3 | The Dreams Mac
Past ~ 2 months prior
“B ig Mac,” my little sister’s soft voice calls out to me.
I look to see her walking toward Auntie Fay’s SUV.
“What?” I call after her.
Over her shoulder, she says, “Mac, watch out for her.”
I look around and reply, “Watch out for who?”
“The girl with two faces,” Faith explains, climbing into the SUV.
I look around but don’t see any girl. When I see her shut the door, I yell, “Wait, I want to come with you.”
I move toward the SUV.
“No!” she exclaims, putting a hand up and motioning me to stop. “She needs you.”
“No, I want to go with you,” I yell.
“You can’t.” She smiles and gives me a little wave. “Remember the girl with two faces.”
“Faith! Don’t go,” I say, panicked.
Then she’s gone.
Darkness washes over me, and my cheek suddenly starts to burn.
“Mac!” a woman’s voice calls out.
I bolt up in a panic but collide with something or someone.
“Fuck!” I grunt.
“Mac, please wake up,” the woman says, sounding frantic.
I rub my eyes, trying to get them to focus on whoever is straddling me.
“What?” I say, groggy.
“Mac, you had a bad dream.” Recognizing the woman’s voice this time.
Rubbing my eyes a bit more, I finally get them to focus and see Raydene looking freaked out. She moves to my side, sitting on her knees like she’s ready to pounce if she needs to escape.
I sit up, scooting back to rest against the headboard. Thinking about my dream, I run my hands through my dampened hair.
Fucking Faith.
Faith likes to haunt me. Her beautiful face, soft voice, those words, and leaving in the car. Fuck!
“Did I hurt you?” I ask, my voice dry and hoarse.
She smiles softly. “No, you were just calling out to someone.”
Yeah, my dead sister.
I tease, “DamnDean.” Trying to lighten the mood, I rub my jaw and ask, “Did you hit me?”
Her smile slips. “What did you call me?”
I explain to her with a smirk. “You know, like damn, girl, but I used your name Ray-Dene. Get it, DamnDean?”
She stares at me for a beat before taking a deep breath.
“Someone used to call you DamnDean? What’s up?” I ask, wondering why the sudden sadness.
“Someone used to call me Dean, and it took me by surprise, is all,” Ray explains as I watch her facial features change.
When I rub my face again, she huffs and says, “I’m sorry. You started thrashing around, getting louder and more agitated. I tried shaking you to wake up, but nothing worked, so I slapped you.”
I look around the room and see we’re in one of the clubhouse rooms, but not my room upstairs. The bed seems like we’ve had a night of fucking, but I know we haven’t, so I must have been thrashing around.
Dammit. I shake my head.
We partied pretty hard last night.
Memories of the last two days come barreling in. We had a meeting with our rival club, the Black Crows. Dallas found out information about his doctor. Dallas rushed back to Doc for answers. We met Doc’s friends Vi and Raydene, and a drive-by shooting which led to the clubhouse being on lockdown.
This led to me watching and making sure Raydene was okay, and now, both of us are smoking weed.
With all the mayhem in the last two days, no wonder I dreamed about my late sister. I haven’t had a dream about her in a long time.
When I look back at Raydene, she seems to have relaxed, sitting on her ass with her legs crossed.
God, she’s hot. Crazy, but hot as fuck. If she were single, I’d be all over her. She’s got her walls up and seems to be hiding a fuck ton from me. I have to admit she’s got me more intrigued than interested.
“Who’s Faith?” Raydene inquires, snapping me from my thoughts.
I tilt my head against the headboard, looking up at the ceiling. I take a deep breath before shifting my eyes to her.
I usually don’t talk about my sister, but fuck it.
“She’s my dead sister,” I rush out.
Shock fills her eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, regretting it instantly as the pounding starts.
“Don’t be. She died a long time ago. I was twelve years old when it happened.”
When she doesn’t say anything, I chuckle. “She likes to haunt my dreams.”
Raydene’s expression switches to concern and asks, “Why do you say that?”
Needing pain relief, I grab a joint next to the bed and light it up, taking a long drag. Exhaling, I explain, “She comes to my dreams and tells me to watch out for a girl with two faces.”
Raydene doesn’t say anything.
I laugh.
“I know, right? It’s wild. Same fucking dream. Her getting into my aunties SUV…” I pause and take another hit. “The same SUV that she died in and says the same fucking shit each time. Watch out for the girl with two faces. She needs you or some bullshit like that,” I say, running my hand through my hair.
Raydene moves to sit next to me, leaning against the headboard. She grabs the joint and takes a hit.
We sit silently for a few minutes before she asks, “Does she come to you often?”
I shake my head. “Nah, it’s usually when I’m sober.” I grab the joint back from her, lifting it in front of us. “Hence why I’m always high.”
She smiles. “Seriously?”
I tilt my head to look at her. “Yep.” I say popping the ‘P.’ “Which is why it’s bizarre it happened last night. We were really high.”
We both laugh.
She turns toward me. “Do you usually have them with someone in your bed?”
I shrug. “My family, my cousin, and I’m sure a few girls back in the day after it happened. It started with me having nightmares about not being able to save her. Later, they got a little better with her just coming into my dreams. Then, a few years ago, she started with the girl with two faces. I try to block her out, but she occasionally shows up saying the same shit and leaves.”
“Do you mind if I ask what happened to her?” Raydene says softly.
I blow out a long exhale. “My auntie Fay was driving my ma, sister, and Snow. They were T-boned on the driver’s side, where my sister and auntie were, killing them instantly. My ma and Snow were hospitalized.
“Ginger’s mom was driving?” Raydene confirms.
I nod.
“I’m so sorry. That’s horrible. I knew Ginger’s mom had passed, but I didn’t know the details,” Raydene says, touching my arm.
I look down at her slender fingers wrapped around my forearm.
“It sucked. I lost my auntie and my little sister. She was my sidekick.”
“How old was she?”
“She was ten years old,” I reply, putting out the joint.
“Do you think she is trying to talk to you? I mean, do you believe in all that afterlife shit?” Raydene leans back, releasing my arm.
I want her to touch me again. I actually enjoyed our night last night. We didn’t get all deep like we are right now, but it was a good time.
She’s like an onion. I want to peel away all her layers. I know she’s hiding something. I’ll play detective until we get the dirt on her, or at least the background check on her and Vi.
I shrug.
Turning my face to look at Raydene, I ask, “Do you?”
She smiles. “I’ve had a traumatic loss too. So, yes, I do believe in signs of the afterlife. I also believe in following your gut feeling. And if I had the same dream as you, of my dead sister trying to tell me something, I might listen.”
Bitch, I got it all.
I laugh. “Oh, I believe, and I get them all. Gut feelings, signs from the afterlife, or visions, people would say…” I pause, thinking of the red-haired woman in my dreams. “I’ve tried to figure out what she’s trying to say.” I turn my upper body toward her. “You tell me, what does a girl with two faces mean to you?”
Raydene lifts her hand and rubs her chin as she thinks it over.
I laugh. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
She hits my shoulder with a smile.
“How do you feel?” I ask, rubbing my forehead.
“Like a Mac truck…” She stops, slapping her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
I stop her, grabbing her hand. “It’s okay. I’m used to the term. But ladies usually say, ‘Oh, Mac, your truck rammed me good and hard.’” I wiggle my eyes.
She slaps my arm, saying with a giggle, “That is bad.”
I laugh and continue in a girlie voice, “Oh, MacDaddy, give me your Big Mac.”
She hits me again. “Ewh.”
“DamnDean!” I tease again, rubbing my arm.
Her reaction to me calling her that name wasn’t as bad as before, but I can tell it affected her. It makes me want to call her that name more, so I can find the back story to it.
We sit in silence, each in our thoughts.
“Did you always want to be a biker?” Raydene asks softly.
I’ve been in the Wolfeman MC since I could ride a motorcycle, but my dad and uncle have been grooming me to take over since the day I was born.
“Your uncle is Wolfe, Ginger’s father, correct?” she questions.
I nod. “Yeah, and my dad is Bear. They are two of the four founding members of the Wolfeman MC. You could say it’s in my blood,” I say, smiling.
“So you have always wanted to be a biker?” she asks.
I nod and ask, turning it back on her. “Did you always want to be a DJ?”
She sits there, lost in thought. I am wondering if she’s going to answer when she finally laughs. I turn to her, giving her my full attention.
“My life has never been what I’ve wanted. I’ve always loved music. And yes, I’ve always wanted to be a DJ, but I’m not living my life the way I want,” she says cryptically, leaving me with more questions.
“Why not?” I say, looking her in the eyes and trying to read her expression.
“Just things have happened in my life, and now I have obligations.”
Christ, I hate that fucking word. I want to dig more but don’t want to push her.
I smile at her and say, “You could always start today and change your situation. Even obligations can change for the better. You just need to want it.”
“Are you always this cheerful?” She smiles at me, but I can see she isn’t happy.
“Fuck yeah, I am. Life is too short. Okay, change of subject,” I say, feeling high and sleepy.
I move to lie down, turning on my side, placing my head on my hand, and propping myself up. She follows, lying on her back as I look down at her. I don’t want to bring up her loss or anything that will make her sad, so I ask the question clouding my head.
“Do you feel like talking about your boyfriend yet?” I say, giving her a devilish grin.
She turns her head, looking up at me with her glossy eyes, and I can see the weed is also working its magic on her.
“Well, seeing as you opened up to me, and I like talking to you…” She pauses, thinking about what she’ll say. Her long pause makes me wonder if she’s going to tell me the truth.
“We have an open relationship, I guess you could say. We are more together for obligation than love,” she answers truthfully.
I smile. Now I can work with that.
She smiles back at me. “What?”
I give her my pearly whites and answer, “Nothing. I was just thinking I can work with that.”
She chuckles, turning into me as she closes her eyes. “Oh, you definitely can work with that. You just have to try.”
Well, fuck me.
I take the hint and lean down, placing my lips to hers. Raydene opens her lips, permitting me to continue. I softly start to devour her mouth. Her soft lips succumb to my assault, and I’m instantly hard.
A feeling of wrongness consumes me. I fight with myself, thinking I’ve been with women who have had a boyfriend or husband before. I don’t understand why I keep holding back.
We lie there holding each other, letting our highs take over as we explore each other’s mouths. I want to do more, but I don’t.
She’s not mine.
I break the kiss.
Needing to know more, I ask breathlessly, “Why do you stay with him?”
She snuggles into my chest. “Too many lies, secrets, and obligations.”
“Well, fuck me, that was a loaded answer. Where do I begin?” I chuckle, pulling her against my hardness, letting her know I want her.
“Not right now. Sleep,” she murmurs.
I don’t say anything. I lie there and watch as she falls back to sleep. I shift her hair away from her flawless face and wish I had known this last night. I’ve been a good boy, thinking she’s happy in her relationship. I mean, I knew she was a flirt, but given her job as a DJ, they flirt all the time. It’s their job to make people like them. I thought they were fighting a little, but what she said didn’t sound like a tiff.
A voice echoes in my head again. S he’s not mine.
She snuggles closer into me as I caress her back. Her strawberry-blonde hair smells of lavender. I wonder if she’s a true blonde or redhead. I do love a crazy redhead. I swipe a strand of hair from her face and watch as she passes out.
Sleep, my little onion. I can’t wait to peel you to the core and find all your little secrets. Nothing like a challenge to get me going.