Animal (Royal Bastards MC 1)

Every nerve ending inside my body fires off, coiling my muscles and sending a spike of adrenaline through my veins.

“Motherfucker!” my old man snarls, stamping his boot down on the carcass.

Present

“He shot himself, Drew. He was surrounded by brothers all wanting a piece and knew it was either end it himself or suffer a painful death.”

“You’re lying to protect me from the truth. You got your patch. I know what it takes to earn a patch.” She waves her arms around, animated and hysterical.

I grab her arms, pinning them to her side, and stare her straight in the eyes. “I was willing to kill him. I was hurting about my mother and saw the video of him on the phone with the feds while she was fucking dying. The memories of her blood coating my hands…” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to clear the flash of images assaulting me. “I was willing to kill him, and that was enough to get my patch. But I promise you, Drew, he grabbed the gun out of Kai’s holster and shot himself under the chin.”

Tears leak to her cheeks, trailing down like raindrops. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry this happened, that we were ever put in that fucking circumstance, but why should we lose each other on top of everything we’ve already fucking lost?”

My hard breathing and her sobbing plays around us like the soundtrack to our lives.

“I need time,” she sniffles. “Just let me get some sleep, please. I need to just digest everything.”

“You can have my old room.” I tuck her hair behind her ear, letting the pad of my thumb stroke her cheek.

“Old room?” she croaks, her voice broken.

“I moved rooms. I couldn’t sleep in that room. It was consumed with memories of us.” I hold my hand out for her, sighing when she slips her palm into it. I open the door to the back hall—the one she ran down eight years ago—and lead her to my old room, unlatching the bolt I placed on it.

I couldn’t sleep in there, didn’t mean I wanted anyone else in there.

Pushing open the door is like stepping into the past. Nothing has been touched since we made love in the bed. Her boots still lay haphazardly on the rug.

“It’s like a museum.” She sniffles a laugh, swiping at her eyes.

“I can have clean sheets put on the bed. It’s probably dusty as all hell.”

“No, it will be fine.” She gives a dismissive wave of her hand. “If only we could rewind time with the knowledge we have now.” She moves inside, swiping her fingers over the dresser to collect the dust there.

“Would you save him knowing he killed my mother?” I ask, making her wince.

“I just don’t know why he would write the letters claiming she already knew about him talking to the feds and them planning to run away together.” She shrugs. “If your mom knew and was talking to them, would you have been able to let your dad kill her?”

My hands clench. “I don’t think so,” I tell her honestly.

“He was my dad.” Her shoulders slump as she sits on the bed, her eyes tracing over the rumpled sheets.

“When you told me back then I was safe, was it true?”

How can she ask that? I drop to my knees in front of her, taking her hands in mine. “Yes. God, I would have killed everyone to protect you. How can you not know that? My old man knew we had plans to travel, that you wanted to go to school and see the world. He knew wherever you went, I’d go, so he made me promise we’d stay here—that I’d patch in and become a full, dedicated brother.”

I fucking hate the tears streaming down her face. They’re breaking my fucking heart. I want to pick up all the pieces of our broken story and stitch them back together.

Reaching up, I swipe the water from her skin, almost toppling over when she launches into my arms. Her face burrows into my neck, her body shaking with her sobs. Her petite arms clasp onto me for dear life as I wrap my arms around her, stroking up and down her back. It’s like taking the first gasp of air after nearly drowning. I pick her up and lay down on the bed, keeping her pinned against me. We’re fighting our demons, our mistakes and darkness, to get to the light again.

We could never do that alone. We need each other.

Twenty

Drew

Emotions drained me last night. Being in Alec’s arms, this room, hearing the truth about my dad… There are things missing, puzzle pieces we may never get to find the truth, but I’m so damn tired of running, being in pain, missing him, missing my life. It’s time to heal, forgive, and learn how to move past all the hurt.