Chapter 13 Lana #2
The guy crosses his arms, eyes sending daggers at me.
The air is colder tonight, and I can almost smell the first scent of fall leaves blossoming.
I look to my right, and my bike is parked in front of her house, with the Raven Sons logo imprinted on it.
I notice a small droplet of water on a leaf behind him.
He’s still talking. The droplet falls silently on the lawn.
The street, her house, and the freshly cut lawn, they all remind me of what I used to picture as a dream life after I lost my family.
I wish… I wish I could get there someday.
I may never be. And perhaps the whole white fence dream will never happen, but…
perhaps something else is waiting for me.
And maybe, maybe if I don’t fuck it up, it’ll be a future with Lana, her son, and the club.
And maybe that’s the dream.
Maybe that’s what I’ve been working for all these years without knowing. My chest fills with something heavy, intoxicating, only this time it’s not only for Lana or the passion I have for my club. This time it’s richer, fuller. And I recognize it instantly.
Protectiveness.
That’s what’s happening to me.
I want to protect them.
Not just Lana. I want Noah safe too, even if I haven’t seen his face for more than two seconds. He’s half her; that’s enough for me.
Ben’s face turned a darker shade of red a few seconds ago as I was watching the lawn.
He must be pretty pissed off right now by my lack of responsiveness to whatever he’s been mumbling.
I inhale deeply, taking my time, just like I do with all my victims. Builds the anticipation, gets them all worked out.
I look down at the ant before me, the little man is bouncing on his feet slightly, impatient, annoyed at me for interrupting what he thought was still his.
Then I scrutinize him with a look capable of freezing the blood of many men. Even the bravest one. Trust me, I’ve used it a lot, and I stopped counting the number of guys pissing themselves when they knew in whose hands they had been delivered.
Not the hands of the devil or a psychopath.
Nah.
When I’m there, in this headspace, back in my basement, even if I’m out in the light, I’m not a man anymore.
I’m a predator, willing to shred my prey into pieces to protect those I care about.
I have no limit when it comes to that. No moral compass.
And I hope as I stare at this little human, that he won’t push me that far.
Because I want to honor my girl and let her own her healing, let her push him out of her life.
I’ll be a tool on her journey, but she’ll be the one giving the last blow.
I owe it to her to contain myself, to restrict the most primal values I carry.
To show her that I’m capable of stopping this urge in me, even if it costs me my sanity.
My gaze drifts past his face, and the fucker looks back one second, then smirks.
“You cuckoo or something?” He mocks me with his blinding white veneers.
I shake my head back to reality and focus on keeping my arms by my sides.
No physical contact. I can do this. I won’t bring violence into this home.
"Have you ever seen a wolf back a deer into a corner?” I ask, stepping a bit closer, my voice low, almost like a murmur.
He doesn’t answer right away, his hooded eyes turning into slits.
I continue, taking my sweet time. “The deer might kick and thrash, but every move just wears it down, slower, weaker, blood filling the air. The wolf doesn’t rush it,” I say, inclining my head and staring at him.
“Just watches it, knowing damn well it's done, letting it feel the end coming. Of course, the wolf could end it in one bite, but it takes its time. Make sure the deer knows exactly what’s waiting.
" His eyes flicker, but he won’t meet mine.
“If you think you’re scaring me, you’re not. You should know that I’ve been doing business for years and I’m not new to intimidation tactics and—” I close in, letting each word settle heavy between us.
“Tell me, Ben, when that deer sees the wolf’s teeth, what do you think runs through its mind?
Does it keep bluffing? Telling itself it’s brave?
Or does it finally realize what’s staring it down?
” He holds his stance, but his pulse is written clear as day, flickering at his throat.
His lips open like he’s about to say something, but he thinks better of it.
Good.
I let a faint smile cross my lips, one I’ve learned in a horror movie, but that the guys at the club keep telling me is too creepy to use in real life.
“The way I see it,” I continue, my voice dropping low, “you’re out of your depth, and the only thing left for you is how fast you’re going to run.” I step closer, a drop of sweat falling from his forehead. “So I guess my real question is, how fast can you run, Ben?”
He swallows then glances around him, as if he were afraid someone would witness him in a position of weakness.
“I’m… I’ll go to the police and tell them you threatened me,” he spits back, but his tone falters, losing its momentum. I can tell he’s scared, his pulse betraying him on his neck.
“Nah, you won’t, ‘cause if you have any sense you’ll already know all the cops in the area are on our payroll.”
“You fucking son of a bitch,” he mutters, a thick vein in his forehead pumping hard.
I look down and notice his clenched fists.
I let the insult bounce off me. Insults from my victims always remain out of my shield.
I guess I’ve never considered taking seriously people who liked to prey upon others for no good reason.
I flex my hand, wondering how long I’m going to last without circling his throat and squeezing the life out of him.
“You’re gonna go back inside, say you had, let’s say, a work emergency, and then you’re gonna go back where you came from. You’re not gonna make a fucking scene and then, when you’re all sat in your shitty fancy car, you’re gonna remind yourself of those words.”
“What words, you asshole? You think I take orders from you?” he sneers, agitated, his cheeks red.
“I won’t repeat myself, so listen carefully.
” I zero in on him. “Leave her alone. She doesn’t want you here.
You’re scaring her and your son. If you ever come back outside of your visiting days, which also includes harassing her on the phone.
Know that I will find you, and I will bring you back to the club.
And then, well, how can I put this? I’ll make you wish you were never born in the first place.
” He swallows, his lower lip trembling. Bingo.
“Nod if you understand.” A second passes, his ego processing what’s happening, and then he makes the slightest nod.
One that costs a lot for a man like him with such a big idea of himself.
“Alright, let’s go,” I order, opening the front door again, staring at his neck while he walks ahead of me, his step less assured, less confident. Lana and her son are back at the dining table, her hand resting on his shoulder.
“Guys, I’ve just got a call from the office, I have to go,” Ben states, his voice strained as if I was holding a gun to his head. “Come, give me a hug, buddy. I’ll come back next week to see you at Auntie Nancy,” he says and I know that this is how it should be.
On his visiting days, safely with a third party at Lana’s sister's. Like she said, it was decided a year ago. Lana and her son turn to us, and he hesitantly lets go of his mom and walks to his dad with a large teddy bear under his arm. He’s got cars and trucks on his PJs. Perhaps he’ll like my bike.
“Bye, Dad,” mumbles Noah with the sweetest voice, but his hazelnut pools say otherwise.
This boy lost a bit of his innocence too soon, and from the stare he’s giving his dad, he knows something’s up even if he doesn’t get the full picture.
Kids are smart. We don’t give them enough credit.
Hence why protecting him is so important.
“Goodbye, Ben,” says Lana with a shaky voice, trying to sound cheerful for her son, but her chocolate pupils are dilated as she steps toward him, taking back Noah’s hand in hers.
She’s trembling like a leaf. That fucking guy is still scaring her.
Her ex stares at her for a second, both of them exchanging something I’m not getting.
Is it a threat? A remorseful look? I have no idea.
He glances at me one last time, then swallows, most likely remembering my threats if he doesn’t get the fuck out.
Then he chuckles and turns back to the door, exiting the house and taking with him the violent charge he brought to this place.
The house is suddenly lighter and warmer without him.
Noah waves one last time at his dad before Lana closes the door. I’m still standing next to it, and I have the sudden urge to run. My legs tickle and my head fills with a cloud of darkness.
“You’re big,” Noah remarks, interrupting my thoughts and, staring up at me, cocking his small head to the side. I’m not skilled with people. And I must be even shittier with kids. I part my mouth to respond, but no sound escapes, and then something unnatural unfolds.
I feel it climbing, twisting the muscles in my face like a fist releasing. It’s unfamiliar, making my skin crawl. My mouth’s attempting something, and I’m paralyzed by it. The corners of my lips flicker, and I recoil. Exposed, vulnerable, weak. A freak.
“Carter, are you…” Lana’s voice echoes beside me. “Are you trying to…smile?” I shake my head, then look at her, my eyes wide, filled with something I never feel.
Fear.
“I have to go,” I declare like a coward, then turn back and exit, as if they’d burned me.
I can’t do this. I’m too messed up for them.
Lana follows me out onto the porch, staying silent, like she knows no word could appease my torment.
The storm raging in my head is too strong for me to stay above water.
“It’s alright, really… It’s alright,” she repeats with the warmest hazel eyes I’ve ever seen. I try to respond, but nothing comes out. It’s trapped inside. Exactly like I felt when I lost them.
“Give it time,” she says, and then, unexpectedly, she wraps me in a tight hug, hands clasped behind my back, holding me like she needs it just as much as I do. And because I’m a screw-up, I stand there, frozen, trying to process what happened seconds ago with her son.
A smile.
A fucking smile.
It was just instinct. I didn’t even try, it just…
surfaced. I thought I’d buried that part, that nothing in my dark world would ever make me smile again.
But this kid… Damn. She releases me, steps back, and gazes at me with the calm warmth of finally coming in from the cold.
Lana feels like coming home after a long day.
I study her face, but there’s no hate, anger, or frustration.
“I…” I try, but the words don’t form in my head like I’d just been struck by lightning.
So I leave, because I can’t deal with this now, I just can’t.
I head to my bike, turning my back on her, and I ride, I ride until I can’t feel the drops of water from the cyclone inside my head.
I ride until I can no longer hear the pounding of regrets against my skull.
LANA
He left.
And the look in his eyes when he did broke something in me.
After coming to rescue me, he just left, like it was too much, like me, my son, our home was outside his comfort zone, outside of what he could handle.
I sigh and sink into my couch, the colorful pillows surrounding me as I take in all my plants, little knick-knacks, and rocks Noah has given me after our weekly walks.
Perhaps this is it. It’ll always just be Noah and me.
Although I thought it’d be enough, somehow the picture lacks something to be finished. Or someone.
“Mommy, can we eat now, please?” asks Noah, making two plastic figurines fight each other.
“Of course, honey, let me reheat your plate,” I tell him as I stand up and pass the sink where Carter and I first kissed.
“Your friend was huge, Mommy.” Noah settles on the chair by himself while I stir the food.
“Yes, he is. He’s very strong.”
“Why did he go? I wanted to show him my toys.”
“He…” I stutter, my son eyeing me without comprehending the monumental moment that happened tonight. And yet, all I can think about is that he does not ask about why his father left. He felt good around Carter. Just like me. And he wanted him to stay.
Just like me.
"He forgot he had something to fix at his place, so he had to head back to take care of it. But he’ll be back once it’s done.
" I smile at him, realizing with a sudden clarity that this was it, Carter was just overwhelmed. It had nothing to do with us. And deep down, I know, just as I felt when we first met and despite my past still lingering at my door, he's not the type to take the easy way out. He had every reason to walk away from me, yet he didn’t. And I won’t either.
I’ll wait for him, because if there’s one thing I’m sure of tonight, it’s that he’s the missing piece of my puzzle.
He’s the one who makes it whole.
And I’m ready to wait until he’s ready for us.