Blood of Cupids (7 page)

And I was pacing around my room again.  I couldn’t
sleep. I had just given myself to my family’s principal enemy. Good move,
Gracie. Shit. Did he know who I was? Was none of that a coincidence? Was he
spying on me? He knew where I lived. But would he have been that willing to let
me see his tattoo if he knew I was a Brennan? Wouldn’t that have been a dead
giveaway? Dead. I’m dead. My dad will surely lock me up if he ever finds out
about this. Shit again. I told him I was from Alexandria. He knows
The
Walking Shadows
are from Alexandria. No matter what, he has to know I have
some knowledge of motorcycle clubs. No wonder my father never let me out of his
sight. I was not to be trusted.

I needed to get out. I needed to go home for the weekend. I
couldn’t be alone. All I could think about was Ryan. I needed to get his face,
his beautiful face, out of my head. I needed to stop thinking about what it
felt like to be in his arms, under his weight, warmed by his breath.

That was it. I grabbed my keys. I needed to get out of my
tiny apartment. I walked downstairs and found my car in the garage. A four-hour
drive seemed like the right thing to do at four in the morning.

I drove the dark, empty roads, grateful for the solitude.
The sun was up, and welcoming a new day. My family, I’m sure, was just heading
to bed. The strip clubs might close at two, but that just means the girls and
alcohol are available for an after party. The boys in my life surely loved
after parties. I slowly pulled up to the club, searching for my aunt’s car. It
stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of bikes. She drove a giant, boat
of a car. She always said it reminded her of her first love. I never wanted to
ask her to elaborate on that. 

I turned into a space and killed the engine. Home. It wasn’t
what most people would consider, but to me it was comforting. I opened the door
to darkness. The light from the doorway highlighted the carnage of the night’s
festivities.

I stepped over naked, prison-tattooed bodies, attempting to
keep as quiet as possible. It was always awkward to see the guys like that.
There was no question as to whether they took part, but still, it’s hard to
claim privacy when you know what everyone’s ass looks like.

I made my way down the darkened hall, knowing perfectly well
where my aunt’s office was, even without the help of lights. As I approached, I
heard laughter. Easy to recognize with their bellowing voices, it was my aunt
and father. I always called Aunt Kathryn my aunt, even though she technically
wasn’t. Her own father had been part of the club back when my dad was a kid.
Some deal went awry (I tried not to ask club details, just as everyone tried to
leave the details hidden from me), and both of her parents wound up shot in the
head. My grandfather took her in, and raised her as his own. She and my dad are
as close as siblings could be, but I always wondered if there was more between
them. Now that I was away, I was a little leery about walking into her office.
I didn’t want to see anything I would regret later. Unlike the rest of the
guys, my father had always done a pretty good job at keeping his private life
from me.

As I took a step closer, weighing my options, the door flew
open.  Aunt Kathryn stood there, teased blonde hair and skin tight leopard
shirt, with her arms opened wide.

“Oh my baby girl Gracie. I knew I felt your skinny
presence.”

How do you respond to that? “I’ll… remember to eat dessert
next time.”

We all laughed. It felt good to be home.

My dad stood up, attempting to hide the line of meth in
front of him, and made his way toward me. He was a big guy, with hair much
lighter than mine, and a full beard desperately needing to be trimmed. “Is
everything okay?”

“Yes, of course. I just missed home.”

“I knew it. The city life was just too much, and she missed
the strippers. Those girls just know how to hook you.” She finally let me go
and took my face in her hands. Her smile dropped as she peered into my eyes.

“Okay Bowie. Girl time. Get out.”

My dad never questioned her. He simply kissed the top of my
head and left, closing the door behind him. Aunt Kathryn listened for a few
beats, then grabbed my wrist and sat me down.

“Okay, who is he?”

“What?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Miss Gracie Brennan. When did it happen?
Last night?”

I had no idea how she could read me so well. I just nodded.

“Oh, my baby girl is all grown up… finally. I feared this
day would never come.”

“Thanks.” It was a weird thing to be thankful for, but I was
so happy I had made this decision. I needed to talk more than I thought.

“So, who is he? Cute? Mysterious? Big?”

“Aunt Kathryn!”

“Oh no, no, no. You can’t come in here smelling like sex and
expect not to give me all the juicy details.”

I smiled. “It was…oh, wow, it was amazing.” I wanted to say
something more, but I just couldn’t. The truth was, Ryan really was amazing.

“And the man?”

I leaned back in the chair, recalling him: all of him.
“Perfect.”

“Nice.” She paused, enjoying the moment with me. “So why are
you
here
and not with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s like you forgot how well I know you. Stop lying to
me.”

But how much could I tell her? “I just don’t think I’m going
to see him again.”

“Why? Did he sneak out? On you? What the hell is wrong with
him? Do I need to send out the boys?”

“No. No. I didn’t give him my number.”

“You’re making no sense to me.”

“For that exact reason. If Dad found out what happened, Ryan
wouldn’t live to see another day.”

“Mmm, Ryan. Good name.”

“I know.” I became dreamy again. I hated being this
vulnerable.

“But, Gracie, you can’t spend your whole life fearing your
father. He’ll let you go eventually.”

“You think?”

“I don’t know. It sounded like something I should say,
though.”

I couldn’t help but break out into laughter. I wanted to
tell her everything: how he tickled my palm, how his kiss stirred my insides,
that he had a terrible pick up line, and most of all, that he was a member of
The
Blood of Cupids MC.
But I couldn’t tell her anything. I needed to forget
him.

“I think I should get some rest.” I winked at her. “Maybe
sleeping on it will remind me of more details for you tomorrow.”

She put her arm around me. “Want to drive me home?”

“Sure.”

“Good. My car needs a new transmission. Just like my first
love.”

I shook my head and smiled. It was good to be home.

My bike was holding up pretty well considering I’d used
epoxy to fix it. Sean and I were heading home after meeting up with our ally
club in the Bronx. The truth was,
The Walking Shadows
were the biggest
MC in the area, and everyone was more than happy to aid in taking them down a
notch.

It was still bothering me what my Pop’s deal was with
Brennan. They dealt in the prostitution and drug game, while we were focused on
the gambling and gun business. Our paths didn’t cross. In the past, my questions
had been answered with musings of a turf war, but I never fully believed that.
What had actually happened? What were they all hiding? 

I was following behind Sean, allowing my mind to wander, as
he pulled off onto a small dirt road. Just what I needed: more antics from my
uncle. We made our way down a mile or so, and a small bar appeared in the
distance. I could do a drink.

We stepped inside, and the bartender nodded his head at
Sean. I guess he had made himself known here.

“I’m hungry.” Uncle Sean motioned to a nearby booth.

“Sure.”

We sat down at a booth, and a big-chested blonde approached
the table. She was cute, agile, and yesterday I wouldn’t have thought twice
about slamming her down on the table and finding out if she was wearing panties
under her frayed jean skirt. Today, all I could think about were Grace’s
freckles. Stupid, fucking, freckles.    

“Howdy gentlemen, what can I get for you?” She drew out her
vowels as if she were from the south. We were somewhere on the back roads on
New Jersey; there was no need for that kind of accent in these hills, but she
was obviously playing a part. She batted her eyes at both of us. Pitiful.

Sean gave me a look. The part she played had worked on him.

“Go ahead.” I motioned to the back of the bar.

He grabbed her by the ass, and the two made their way toward
the bathroom. I sat there, knowing I’d have a good seven minutes to myself. I
closed my eyes and slouched, my lack of sleep was starting to weigh on me. In
that moment, I could have caught a wink of sleep, but I was quickly startled by
the blonde’s exhilarated screams. Fuck, Sean, at least cover her mouth.

I thought about Grace biting the pillow to mute her elation.
That image brought me to her jawline, and then to her neck: how much I wanted
to wrap my fingers around it. I wanted to briefly hold her life in my hands and
watch her go crazy with ecstasy. I wanted to teach her new things. I wanted to
show her what she’s been missing out on. Fuck her. I could care less that she
wouldn’t give me her number. I knew where she lived; she couldn’t hide from me.
I’d have more of her with or without her permission.

Sean stumbled out of the bathroom, slapped the blonde’s ass,
and made his way to the table.

“I got us some burgers.” He said triumphantly.

“Great.”

“Okay, Ass Wipe, what’s your problem?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Did I hurt your feelings
yesterday? Are you a fucking baby?”

“Fuck no.”

“Then why are you moping around like a sad puppy?”

“I just want to know what Pop’s deal is with Brennan.”

“Why the hell do you care?”

“We’re about to go to war with them and the rivalry doesn’t
make sense to me.”

“Because you’re a pussy?”

“Never mind, Sean.”

“Let me give you a piece of advice: do your job and don’t
ask questions.”

“My job now is to ask the questions. I’m an officer, not a
prospect.”

“You could’ve used some prospecting months.”

I might have been the only club member in history whose
hang-around and prospecting days could be counted on one hand. When your Pops
is the president, you really don’t have to worry about the shit they make
prospects put up with. I didn’t have to play the part of the beer-running
servant, strip down naked in front of the club and fuck two hookers at the same
time, or kill a man in broad daylight. My prospecting days were just a
formality; the worst thing I did was light Sean’s cigarette for two days
straight.

Sean’s final act as a prospect earned him the skull and
crossbones patch. He had killed for the club. I often found myself wondering
how many of those patches he would have if he were given one for every kill. I
never cared enough to ask him though; that specific topic was something club
members never spoke about openly. That unwritten rule kept most of the guys out
of the gray-bar hotel.

The blonde brought us some beers and giggled at Sean. I will
never understand women.

“Your Pops had an unhealthy obsession with a broad.”

“What? When?”

“How the fuck should I know? You were like a baby. It was
around the time he joined the club. He was trying to impress her or something
stupid like that.”

“And mom?”

“He didn’t give two shits about your mother. It was that
other cunt he was infatuated with. She tried to ignore it for a while, but as
soon as he joined the club, she left your ass.”

“Pops never told me that’s why she left.”

“Well that, and I don’t think she expected to become
property
six years into her marriage.”

“But what the hell does that have to do with Brennan?”

“I don’t know. Brennan shot her, or something.”

“Mom?”

“No you fuckhead. The broad.”

I stopped breathing for a brief second. He shot her? It was
all starting to make sense. Flashes from my past were taking shape. I
remembered overhearing conversations from my parents. I remembered another
woman. I couldn’t see her face, but I remembered her voice. It was soft,
soothing. That’s why my mom walked out on us: my Pops was having an affair. Was
he planning on leaving us? But why would Brennan have killed this random woman?
How could he hate my Pops so much?

Maybe he was just that much of a monster.

Maybe Pops was right to want me armed next Friday.

Maybe I didn’t want any of this.