Chapter 14
Something that sounds a lot like celebrating drifts across the yard from the barn, and nothing about it makes me want to join in. Not even the gunshot had fully pulled me out of my misery, and I’m beginning to wonder if this is just who I am now.
Miserable. Mournful. A real downer.
My gaze sweeps over the names etched into the metal plates of the memorial wall. I wandered here after Brody rushed off. I’d lost the urge to hit Daniel in that moment, but my mind refuses to snap out of this dark haze wrapped around me like a bubble.
Reaching out, I hover my fingers over the name, Jamie Halley - Mule, but stop the moment I spot red coating my hands.
Blood.
Daniel’s blood.
And I’m still wearing the knuckle duster.
Oh… should I wash it? How does one take care of a knuckle duster? And does it even need taking care of?
“Abbey!” I hear a yell. Ringo’s yell.
Turning to glance over my shoulder, I see him bounding from the dungeon shipping container, his eyes frantic as he searches for me.
I guess he’s seen what I’ve done. How I left Daniel beaten and bloody.
How can he even love me?
Jesus… I’m so sick of feeling like this.
Glancing back at the memorial wall, my glassy eyes lock onto Mule’s name.
“Am I redeemable?” I whisper. “If I get Bobbi back, and she grows up to find out what I’ve done. Who I’ve killed. The monster I can be… Will she hate me?”
“Abbey!” Ringo’s voice is less frantic now, coming closer with the sounds of his pounding boots approaching. “Fuck, Angel. Are you alright?”
I don’t turn back, shame washing over me as I prepare to be caught red-handed. Literally.
I don’t deserve him.
The feel of his strong hands on my shoulders makes me jolt, like his touch finally breaks through the bubble, and a sob lurches from my lips.
“I’m a monster,” I murmur as he gently spins me to face him, those whisky eyes roaming over me to make sure I’m okay.
“You’re not a monster, Angel.” He tries to soothe me, but I shake my head, holding up my blood coated hands.
“These are the hands of a monster, Cam. That’s what I’ve become.”
His shoulders drop, like he’s finally accepting that, so I steel myself for his disappointment.
“You’ve become what you’ve needed to become to get through this. To survive this.”
I frown at his words. “I’ve become a monster. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve to be a mother. My mum was right.”
“No way.” His fingers dig into my upper arms as he gives me a single shake.
“No fucking way am I letting that woman’s toxic words settle in your head.
You do deserve to be a mother, and any woman or mother that says they could never harm someone else is a lying bitch, or living in a fucking dreamland full of unicorns and fairies, because let me tell you, the moment someone hurts their kid, they’ll turn into the fucking she-devil herself. ”
“Not every mother,” I whisper, my eyes burning with tears I hate since they are related to the woman who birthed me.
“I guess not every mother,” he agrees, “but those mothers are the ones who don’t deserve that fucking title, Angel. Because if they aren’t willing to burn the whole fucking world down for their own child, then they don’t deserve to be called a parent.”
For a long moment, I just stare up at this big brute of a man wondering how I got so lucky to have him fighting in my corner.
“I don’t know if I can be the mother Bobbi deserves,” I admit quietly, and those big hands shift from my arms to my face, framing it as he leans in closer.
“Every good mother thinks that, Angel. I know the idea of being a mother is scary, especially after grieving for so long and thinking that your little girl was gone… was in the afterlife with my Hope…” His voice cracks, and big fat tears burst from my eyes as my heart aches for him.
“But Bobbi’s alive, waiting for her mum to find her.
Waiting for her mum to hold her and never let her go. ”
A loud sob escapes me as I nod, trying to smile through my tears, and Ringo crashes me to his chest, holding my head to him like I’m precious, while I hold my arms out to each side, trying my best not to get blood on him.
“Thank you.” I sob into his chest, and he squeezes me tighter.
“Come on. Let’s get you showered and into some fresh clothes.”
I nod against his cut, and when he pulls back, he takes my blood-soaked hand in his, not caring about the mess, and leads me across the yard.
“Is Daniel…” I trail off, wondering if I killed him. I can’t really remember.
“He’s alive, Angel. You did a number on him though.”
I cringe, and Ringo chuckles.
“Nothing he didn’t deserve. Don’t even think about him. We have a celebration to go to.”
My brows hitch. “What are we celebrating?”
When Ringo glances down at me, his eyes are light as he answers.
“Brody got patched in.”
That news has me smiling too, so we hurry to the path that leads to the bungalows and take a quick shower.
Together.
That may or may not have involved some suckling… Jesus, my cheeks still flush at the fact we do that, yet it still doesn’t feel wrong.
Nothing I do with Ringo feels wrong.
We join the celebrations a short time later, and even though my smile is forced, I start to relax with Ringo remaining by my side the entire time.
There’s a big barbeque cook up, the Doxies filling a table with various salads and side dishes, and for a while, I stay in the moment. Not thinking about Bobbi. Not thinking about Tahli. Not thinking about Daniel. Yet thoughts of my mother linger at the edges.
She knows Bobbi is alive. Someone told her. A little birdy, she’d said.
She’d also known I was gone from Ringo’s house. That Tahli had been left there. And whoever is working with her, had left a note for my sister. They were in her room. Right by her bed.
The thought makes it hard for me to eat much, but I manage one drink, hoping the alcohol will calm my nerves, but that doesn’t work either. I just spend the time pretending that I’m okay. Pretending that I’m present.
“Hey, Abbey. How about a kiss for the new club brother?” Brody snickers, ignoring the growl that rumbles from Ringo, whose knee I’m perched on.
Brody is loving all of the attention, returning to the level of cockiness I first witnessed in him at the previous compound. He was such a dick then. A sex-crazed dick. But he has changed since then. Since shit got real, I suppose.
“I’ll pass, thanks. I’ve seen where that mouth has been.”
He throws his head back laughing, proud as punch about that fact, and I can’t help but giggle at the guy.
His cackling stops as he grins down at me, his eyes roaming over my face as his expression turns more serious.
“What?” I ask, and his gaze flicks to my husband, who’s watching him like a hawk.
Stepping closer, Brody lowers to one knee, bringing us eye to eye.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and I frown, shifting uncomfortably on Ringo’s lap.
“I’m fine.”
His eyes narrow at my lie, but he doesn’t call me out on it.
“Did I do the right thing, or the wrong thing?”
I frown at his question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The knuckle duster,” he whisper-hisses, and I feel Ringo straighten.
“I tried to hold you back, but it was like you were in agony not being able to beat on Daniel, so… I let you go, and well… the things you said…” His eyes turn glassy and his lip curls in disgust. “Did he really do all of those things to you?”
I swallow thickly, not able to speak, so I nod, just once.
“I wanted to kill him for you, Abbey. And I would in an instant if you asked me to, but then, in that moment, I knew you had to be the one to hurt him, so I gave you something to help. Did I do the wrong thing?”
I consider that, letting myself go back to what I can remember of that moment. To the minutes that followed. I’d been ashamed of behaving like that, but Brody is right. I was in agony. I did need to unleash it on someone who deserved it.
“You didn’t do the wrong thing.” I smile softly at him, but it’s a weak attempt at best. “Thank you for being there for me. And congratulations on becoming a fully patched Southern Sadist.”
He beams, and I flick my gaze to Ringo.
“Did I say it right? Fully patched? Is that the right lingo?”
Ringo’s lip kicks up at the corner. “You nailed it, Angel.”
“Yeah, you fucking nailed it.” Brody beams, standing and turning to the crowd. “Who wants to suck my cock?!”
A squeal flies from me as drinks get thrown at Brody, spilling over me and Ringo, and I duck and hide into his chest as the music gets turned up louder.
Things quickly turn indecent after that, and as Ringo chats to Vender and Murf, I pretend not to notice Helina pulling off her top and kneeling in front of a group of Southern Sadists as they take their dicks out and start stroking them.
A red hot blush heats my cheeks, and I squirm on Ringo’s lap, ducking my head yet still watching through the fan of my lashes as Helina sucks on one dick, using her hands to jerk off two of the others, while the remaining guys do the work themselves.
Shit. I can’t look away.
“We call that live porn.” Ringo breathes against my ear, making me stiffen, and his deep chuckle rumbles against my back. “Want a closer look?”
“No.” I shake my head, and Ringo grunts.
“Liar.”
“Hey, Darla.” Vender calls from next to me and Ringo, and the Doxy magically appears like she’s been waiting for this all night. “Murf’s cock needs attention.”
She beams, her eyes flicking to me and Ringo before settling on Murf, who is sitting on our other side.
“You want some of what they are getting?” she asks Murf, and I squirm on Ringo’s lap again as Murf quickly takes his dick out, which is already hard.
Oh my God, are all these men hard?
Is Ringo hard?
I shift my arse a little, wanting to know, and his fingers dig into my hips. “Unless you want to ride my cock here, Angel, I’d suggest you stop doing that.”