Chapter Thirty-Three
Indie
Once I finished telling King and the others everything I remembered, including the names of several men and women who, as I suspected, were not in the files Nav had access to, church ended, and we left King alone to deal with my revelations.
Cash went to check on Kytten. She hadn’t been doing well since she spoke with Magyk, and I couldn’t help feeling responsible. I should have left. That first contact with Sting put things in motion that could hurt everyone I’d come to love.
“Don’t even fucking think about it, Indie.”
I spun around on the stool I was sitting on at Gunner’s rough command and crossed my arms over my chest. “And how do you know what I’m thinking?”
“’Cause I’ve seen it enough on my old lady’s face to know you’re thinking about running.”
I looked around the room for Mimic. He’d gone with Cash to check on Kytten and hadn’t come back yet.
“Why do you even care? I know you hate me.” I turned back around, leaning on the bar. Johnny dropped off a Coke, but he wouldn’t even look at me anymore, let alone talk to me. His eyes dipped to the cut, and I swear I saw something like pain cross over his features.
“You know I fucking care,” he said as he sat next to me. “Am I pissed you lied to me? Fuck yes, I am. I’m also pissed you didn’t think you could trust me.”
“It wasn’t that.”
“What was it then?”
I waited for Johnny to drop off Gunner’s beer, then walk away before answering him. “I’ve been running since we escaped. I’ve been on my own for years, Gunner. I didn’t trust anyone.”
“You trusted Mimic.”
I turned to look at the side of his head.
He refused to look at me, and suddenly I understood.
“Is that why you’re mad? Because I trusted him and not you?
I didn’t trust him at first either. I didn’t go to him.
He was breaking into my apartment to watch me sleep.
” I bumped his shoulder with mine. “Sound familiar?”
“I never broke into Haizley’s apartment,” he argued. “Not until after she was attacked.”
“Mimic stormed his way into my life, the same way you did with Haizley. He didn’t give me a choice.” Not that I wanted one.
“You’re important to me, Indie.”
“I work for you. Not even for you. I work with you. So does Bruce.”
“Bruce is an asshole.”
I chuckled, because he was right. Bruce was an asshole, but the kind you enjoyed having around.
“I hired you because you’re talented. But it was more than that. I saw something in you. Something dark.”
“Great, just what a girl wants to hear.”
“Shut the fuck up and listen.”
I smiled at him. For all his bluster, I knew Gunner cared. I just never wanted him to. When people cared, they got close. Letting people get too close meant letting them see the real you, and I never wanted him to see the real me. I never wanted anyone to see the real me.
“You tried to hide it, and for most people, it probably worked. But I knew you were running. I gave you a place to rest, hoping you’d come to me and let me help.”
“I didn’t want help. I never wanted you or anyone here to know what happened.” My eyes dropped to the bar, and I studied my glass. My fingertip spun around the rim as I waited for him to say something.
“Do you know why men join MCs? Because we don’t fit anywhere else. We recognize people like us. The broken people who think no one wants them.”
“Kindred spirits,” I whispered.
“Family,” he countered. “You became a part of the family the day you walked into my shop, Indie.”
“Why couldn’t my dad be like you?”
“Fuck, I’m gonna suck at being a dad one day. Too fucking controlling.” He took a sip from his bottle, and I laid my head on his arm.
“I don’t know. I think you’re doing a pretty good job.”
He smiled at me and kissed the top of my head.
“He’s not good enough for you. No one is.”
I gave him a sad smile. “I’m not good enough for him.”
“Bullshit. That’s like saying Haizley isn’t good enough for me.”
“Haizley and I are nothing alike.” She wasn’t broken, not like me.
She grew up in a small town with both her parents.
Sure, she had trauma; everyone did. But not like mine.
Losing your parents at a young age and feeling alone wasn’t the same as growing up a whore for sick individuals to use however they pleased.
“You’re not as different as you think. She has things in her life she hopes no one ever finds out.
Just like we all do. What happened to you was horrific.
It’s something no child, no woman should ever have to endure.
But you came out on the other side. You’re still here.
You’re strong, Indie. I don’t want to see you get hurt. ”
“Mimic won’t hurt me.”
Not in a bad way. The way he cried in my arms after we had sex was more earth-shattering than the actual sex. Being trusted with someone’s heart meant so much more than being trusted with their body.
The way Mimic opened up to me the last few days, giving me everything inside him, told me I was safe with him. It meant I could let him in. I could give him everything in return.
“You trust him?”
“Completely.” I looked up at Gunner. “I trust you too, you know.”
“I hope so. I’ll always have your back, Indie. Haizley too.”
“Thank you.”
“Indie, come sit!”
I padded over to the couch and sat next to Sam. She promptly put a baby in my arms and sat back with a sigh.
“Are you okay?” I asked, frozen in my seat. I’d never held a baby before and wasn’t sure if I could move. Looking down at the tiny little face with her eyes closed had me tearing up. She was so pure. So innocent.
“I shouldn’t be holding her,” I whispered.
“Why not?” Sam asked.
I just shook my head. I had blood on my hands. The blood of innocent children whose only crime was that they were kidnapped and trained like me. Only they weren’t strong enough. It could just as easily have been me who died on those days.
“Should I call Haizley?”
I couldn’t answer. I just stared at the baby in my arms as tears ran down my face. Sam put her arm around me and held me. Someone came and took the baby, and I clung to Sam.
I didn’t have a mom. My dad was an asshole, and the way I lived my life up to this moment was the stuff nightmares were made of.
But this woman, this mother who meant so much to Mimic, who took him in and gave him something he needed, something that was missing in his life, was now holding me, letting me cry on her shoulder.
She allowed me to hold her innocent baby, not in the least bit afraid that I might hurt her. She trusted me.
“It’s okay, Indie. You’re safe here. No one will ever hurt you again.” She whispered those words over and over as I clung to her.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, sitting up and wiping my eyes.
“There is nothing for you to feel sorry about.”
“She got you too, huh?”
“Kytten, hush,” Sam scolded, but the smile on her face said she didn’t really mean it.
“She’s dangerous you know. Let her too close and she’ll have you believing you’re worth more than you think,” Kytten said, winking at Sam as she sat beside me on the couch.
I chuckled at Kytten’s words.
“Because you are worth more than you believe.”
“You don’t know my story,” I muttered.
“I don’t need to know your story. You were put on this Earth for a purpose. Not the one you’ve been living. The one you’re meant to live from this point forward.”
“See what I mean? Give up now; once Sam claims you, you’ll never be the same. She did the same thing to me, by the way. That arm is lethal. The minute she puts it around you, you’re a goner. Tears you can’t control and haven’t shed for a decade just start to flow.”
Sam just smiled at Kytten’s banter.
“Where is my namesake, by the way?”
“Your brother took her from Indie and walked away.”
“I’ll never get her from him.” Kytten pouted, crossing her arms over her chest like a toddler.
Mimic sat across the room holding the tiny baby in his arms. Charlie, Sam’s oldest, sat next to him, talking his ear off. He might appear to be ignoring Charlie, but every time she stopped talking, he’d look right at her and say something.
He’d be a good father one day. Did he want children? Did I? I knew nothing about being a mom. The few memories I had of my mother were solid, but they weren’t many. I was so young when they took me away from her.
She would have been a wonderful grandmother, though. The kind who baked cookies and babysat without complaint. I looked at Sam. She was a wonderful mom. She’d be a wonderful grandmother one day.
Kytten’s phone rang, and she jumped up to answer it. “I need to take care of something, since Thorne has Rosie and Romeo has Josie. Neither of them are giving them up anytime soon.”
I followed her gaze to Romeo, who sat on the other couch, Josie propped on his chest sleeping. He had a hand on her back, holding her in place, and a phone in his other hand, texting. He glared at anyone who came near him.
“That’s unexpected.”
“It is,” Sam observed. “Romeo, who are you texting and sending pictures of my daughter to?”
He looked up and smiled at Sam. “My old lady.”
“Your what?” Jack asked as he entered the room. “You don’t have an old lady.”
“Sure, I do. She just doesn’t know it yet.” He smiled, and I wondered what type of woman could rein in the manwhore of Diamond Creek. She had to be pretty damn special.
“MIMIC! Get your ass in here!”
“Uh-oh.” I jumped up from the couch and headed toward Mimic. Whatever it was, I would stand by his side. The way an old lady should. He handed the baby off to Aspen, and when he reached me, I grabbed his hand. Together we walked into church.
“What?”
“Drop your pants.”
“Excuse me!”
“You heard me, drop ’em. Now.”
“What the hell is going on now?” Jack asked, stepping in behind us.
“This motherfucker wants me to drop my drawers!” Mimic shouted, appalled. I knew he was worried. I squeezed his hand, and when he looked at me, I mouthed, Pants only.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing what he’s got in those pants.”
“Get the fuck out of here, Brandy!” King roared.
“Why does Jackass get to stay?”
I turned and looked at Brandy, who winked at me.
“Because what’s in his pants does nothing for me,” Jack stated.
“Drop them. That’s an order,” King demanded.
Mimic glared at King before finally unbuckling his pants and dropping them in front of his president.
“Son of a bitch. Jack, go find Cash and tell him Kytten is locked down. She’s not allowed to leave the club and then tell him I need to see him. Mimic, you’re locked down too. You’re grounded.”
“What the fuck for?!” Mimic roared. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Bane, what’s the plan here? I can’t keep Mimic contained for long. The little shit is already a pain in my ass.”
King was quiet as whoever Bane was spoke to him. His eyes never left Mimic.
“You’ve got twelve,” King clipped before disconnecting the phone. “You don’t fucking leave.” King pointed his finger at Mimic, who stood beside me shaking with rage as he buckled his pants.
We sat at the bar, and I tried to calm Mimic down. King’s order didn’t make sense, but he clearly knew something we didn’t.
Cash came in and went straight to King. “What’s going on? Kytten’s not here. She went to see Val.”
“Tank, Big Ben, take Mimic downstairs and lock him up.”
“What the fuck?” Mimic shouted as the two men dragged him from the room.