thirty-one: in which she wants to break the cycle

"I built you up, but you let me down" –Linkin Park, Burn It Down

********************************

I walked out of the bedroom just in time to catch Ghost leaving Catalina's room, head lowered slightly as he focused on doing up the zipper of his jeans. I only had a split-second to decide if I should dart back into my room like a scared rabbit, or acknowledge Ghost with a greeting.

He looked up, deciding for me. "Maya," he said by way of greeting, a smile curving his lips. "How's it going?"

"Um. Good. Yes. Good." I cleared my throat. "How are you?"

He glanced over his shoulder at Cat's closed door. "Great, Maya. I'm great."

"How's Jacob?" I hadn't meant to ask, because in the four days that I'd been with the Bloody Marys, Sticks had been giving me a daily report that amounted to absolutely nothing, since Jake was AWOL. Nevertheless, I appreciated the gesture, more than Sticks would ever know.

Ghost's face clouded over, his gray eyes stormy. In that moment, he looked every bit the menacing leader of a gang of outlaws. "You should ask him yourself, Maya."

"His phone goes straight to voicemail. He's OK, though, isn't he?"

"Come back to the clubhouse."

I looked away. "I can't."

"Maya –"

"No, Ghost. I've thought about this. I can't be there." I forced myself to smile. "I appreciate everything, but I'm fine here."

He nodded once. "You have my number."

"Yes."

And then he came forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Use it sometime."

He left, and Catalina stepped out, wearing her usual black leather pants and jacket. She was finger-combing her dark, wet hair.

"You have dinner yet?"

I looked at her. "It's after midnight. I was, um, going to have some milk."

"Can't sleep?" She put her arm around my waist as we walked to the kitchen.

"I haven't been sleeping much," I confessed, sounding put out.

"What you need is some red wine."

I let out a sigh. "I'm not supposed to drink, Cat."

"You had your appendix taken out, Silver. You're not five months pregnant."

I rolled my eyes at her, heaving my butt onto a lone bar stool at the kitchen island. "Regardless, doctor's orders."

"I bet the doctor told you no sex, too, but that didn't stop you."

I felt my skin heat up and she grinned at me.

"I've known Ripper forever. He wouldn't let that stop him from getting inside you."

I groaned. "Please stop."

Laughing, she poured herself a glass of wine and chucked it down her throat. "You're cute. I remember when I was your age –"

"Only eight years ago, but proceed."

"Anyway, I was hung up on a guy who was kind of a sex addict and nothing – I do mean nothing – could stop him from fuсking me," she said, pouring herself another glass. "He was in hospital with a broken leg and he insisted I ride him. And don't get me started on period sex in the show---"

"Oh, God, Cat. I'd rather not!"

"My point is, when you have a man like that, keep him. He's good people." She winked at me. "That's Ripper, in case you didn't get it."

"Life isn't all about sex and spending time in bed pleasuring each other," I mumbled, hopping off the stool to go to the refrigerator. Everyone in the house had told me to make myself at home and slowly, I was beginning to. It helped that they were well stocked with my favorite junk foods.

"Life fuсks you and then you die. I know this," Cat told me. "So that's why you have to appreciate the little things. Like good sex."

I took the carton of milk out and poured it into a glass on the kitchen counter. "What you have with Ghost?"

"Ghost and I have a mutual arrangement."

I turned to look at her, leaning against the counter. "You're fuсk buddies."

"No, not really. He wants to get married. I'm not ready to stop having fun."

I felt my mouth drop open. "Ghost wants to settle down? And you don't?"

It wasn't exactly that I was shocked that Ghost wanted to settle down; it was that I'd seen how he was with women at the clubhouse. They fed off his dark good looks, his authority. Every night, he'd had a different woman. Sometimes, he repeated. And he was supposed to be the face of the picket-fences-and-wedding-bands lifestyle?

Catalina gave me a small smile. "I'm not ready for it. Ghost understands that."

For a moment, she looked sad, but then she finished her wine and that look on her face soon vanished.

"Do you want to tell me why you and Rip are fighting?" She tipped her head to one side curiously. "I've been patient for four days, Silver. You gotta give me something."

I clutched my glass a little tighter, as if I were afraid I'd drop it. "It's nothing."

It's everything.

Cat sighed heavily. "You wouldn't know this by looking at me, but I give good advice, so when you're ready, I'll –"

"He has a problem, Cat. I think it's mental, but I can't be sure until he gets diagnosed. If he gets diagnosed."

"What kind of problem?" Cat's voice was soft, and that was all I needed to be transported to that evening. The evening I was afraid of Jacob Ford.

"Maybe I'm naïve – no, I know I was naïve – but I didn't... I never imagined that Jacob could kill people so easily," I said, putting the milk down. I found that I could stomach it no longer. "Drugs and guns and fistfights. That was all I imagined. It was bad, yes, but I could... I could deal with that, you know? But then...McNally..."

"Maya," said Cat, "you do know that Ripper's part of an outlaw club? With a road name like Ripper, what did you expect?"

She didn't sound condescending but all the same, I felt myself quickly becoming annoyed. "When Jake and I got together, he was retired. He quit even before we were anything, when he was in prison. He did that for his mother," I told her, pushing off the counter and standing straight. "And then all of a sudden, I find out that he wasn't being completely honest with me. I find out that he was a Phantom again and he didn't even have the decency to tell me himself. I let that go. But this? Cat, I don't know how to move past this. You don't just move past the guy you love ending up to be this...this monster. You don't just move past the possibility that every minute he's breathing, someone wants him dead. I have to be selfish and...and back off."

I scrunched my eyes shut, fighting against tears. It didn't matter, because nothing would come out anymore. I was officially cried out. I had a bad experience with gangs and it just seemed like I couldn't get away from the death of everyone I loved.

"OK, breathe," Cat was saying, her voice sounding closer. When I opened my eyes, she was standing right before me. "This is life, Maya. There will always be bad guys and good guys. Then there are our guys – the guys that have to be bad sometimes to protect themselves and the people they love. Ripper is good to you; you can't deny it, can you?"

I chewed on my bottom lip. "I don't know anymore."

Cat's brow furrowed. Her green eyes were filled with confusion. "What does that mean?"

"It means that when we're together..." My voice trailed off as I tried to search for the right words. "He's become my best friend. When he's inside me, I want us to stay like that forever because I can feel his heart beating against my front. Or back. Depending. His heartbeat reassures me that he's still there. Still alive." I knew I had issues. This was one of the few things I kept to myself: That long after Jake fell asleep, I would lie awake, praying that I wouldn't have to watch him die before his time.

"That's sweet, Maya," Cat offered.

"Is it? Because it just means that we love hard and fight harder. We're obsessed with each other and it's scary. He thinks everything is fixable by slow lovemaking and that he's always right. He's manipulative and dominating and sometimes I feel like I don't know him." I scrubbed a hand down my face. "This is the most I've ever said about Jacob and me. I'm sorry you had to hear my crap."

"Crap? Shit, no. You're just showing me that my love life's so not complicated." She smiled. "Maya, this is the life of an MC member. This is who they are, what they do. You can't ask Ripper to change because that would be asking him to stop being him. The Phantoms and the Bloody Marys are on two opposite sides of the spectrum and everyone accepts that."

The Bloody Marys were basically just a sisterhood of women who loved bikes, riding said bikes, and competing in rallies every year. They weren't outlaws. They were just pretty cool women with pretty cool Harleys.

"Do you know why Jake went to prison?" Cat asked me, searching my eyes for something.

"Of course," I replied. "He went after the guys who killed my cousin."

"Yeah, but the Phantoms own almost all the judges in Sallow County. A bribe would've kept Jake out of jail," Cat explained. "Hell, the judge was waiting for his payout when Jake let everyone know he wanted to be put away. Because of Ella. He felt responsible for her death, Maya. He thought he deserved to be locked up. He's not a bad guy, Maya. He's just a guy who's done bad things to survive."

I wanted to ask her what the difference was.

***

It was all over the news, how there had been a shootout at The Wreck early evening.

My chest hurt just thinking of the casualties. Even before I could call or text anyone, Sticks beat me to it: Ripper fine.

Just two words and I felt the weight on my chest lift. Jake's phone was still going to voicemail and maybe that was a good thing because I didn't even know what I'd say to him if he picked up.

"Coke?" a voice asked from behind me.

I was sitting outside, trying to get some fresh air after being cooped up in the house for days now, but the summer night air was doing more harm than good.

I accepted Eve's offer of a soda with a murmured thanks. Out of all the women Catalina called sisters, Eve was the quietest. Her blue pixie cut, colorful skin, and numerous piercings might have screamed extrovert, but I'd quickly learned that looks could be deceiving. For starters, she was a vet and when she did speak, her voice was so soft I had to strain to hear her.

She sat beside me on the porch, nursing her own can of Coke. "Pussy and Ghost explained how you're in the middle of all this gang bullshit. That sucks."

It was a struggle to hear her, even though she was right next to me. "Yeah. Sucks," I seconded, thinking that that was a major understatement.

"But the guy killed someone for you," Eve whisper-breathed. "I'd be flattered."

"Flattered?"

"It means he loves you. It means he'd do anything for you – anything, even take a man's life. A man who would do that is worth loving back." She let out a sigh, staring off into the distance, looking dreamy. "I have a lot of romance novels on my Kindle."

Yes, I can tell.

"I'm sorry that I don't share your views, Eve," I said, my voice just as soft. "I don't want anybody thinking they're doing me a favor by taking another human being's life." Taking a sip of my soda, I looked at her. "Can you even begin to imagine what James McNally is feeling right now? His twin brother was murdered - tortured."

Eve raised a pierced brow. "The McNally family isn't a group of missionaries, Silver," she stated matter-of-factly. "They're killers and gun-slingers and drug traffickers and so much more. In fact, just last year, we heard about how they were trafficking women – kidnapping them from neighboring towns and selling them to the highest bidder. How sick is that? Do they deserve your empathy? They're fuсking insane and Ripper did his good deed for Christ by taking out one half of the top hierarchy. The world should thank him."

Her voice had started getting louder by the end of her tirade. She gripped the can so tight I heard it clank as it was squeezed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just... I went to high school with the McNally brothers."

I kept quiet, hoping that she'd go on. She seemed to sense that that was what I wanted.

"They weren't so bad when they were younger. Smooth-talking charmers and jocks, the both of them. I had a major crush on David and do you know what he did?" She laughed bitterly. "He fuсked me, recorded the whole thing, and emailed it to my father. Turns out my dad, who was a police chief, wasn't willing to look the other way when it came to McNally Senior's dirty dealings. They blackmailed my father, saying they were going to post this sex tape everywhere. My dad adored me too much to let that happen and I watched him lose his self-respect until eventually, David's dad had him killed. So you see why I have no empathy for those fuckers."

My brain whirred, imagining how twisted a father had to be to whore his son out on a blackmail expedition. There was something to be said about the sins of the father. My mind automatically went to Jake. His father had been a bad seed, had terrorized the town as a key member of the Phantoms MC. Or, at least, that was what I'd heard in the past. Maybe Jake wasn't too blame for turning out this was if this was all he'd known growing up.

The violence. The corruption. The sex. The anger. Vengeance. Hatred.

I shook my head, rubbing at my eyes. I was doing it again – making excuses for him. I'd read once that you are a product of your childhood, not a prisoner. That meant that you could break the cycle; you didn't have to let the abuse you suffered as a child make you a victim as an adult. You didn't have to let the poverty you endured when you were younger make you miserly and mean when you got older, scared to part with money. You didn't have to let your past dictate who you became.

Jacob could escape. He could break the cycle. But he believed that this was who – what - he was, and who was I to change him?

"Earth to Silver... Hey!" Eve was waving a hand in front of me, trying to recapture my attention. "Where were you?"

Instead of answering her, I put my arm around her lower back in an awkward side-hug-while-seated. I wasn't usually this touchy-feely but when I thought about what had been done to her when she was younger and how it still obviously affected her today, at twenty-seven, I wanted to show her I cared.

Tentatively, she put her arm around me, and we sat like that, drinking our Cokes and listening to the easy sound of Disclosure streaming out of the house as the girls drank in anticipation of the weekend. Eve and I were the only two who weren't drinking anything stronger. I was actually wishing I had my Patrón and pineapple juice to give me a buzz.

No, what I really wished for was for Jake to call me. Just to say that he was okay. Sticks' constant reassurances weren't as effective.

Deciding I might as well just go to sleep, I got to my feet. "Later, Eve," I said, squeezing her shoulder. "Thanks for the Coke."

She'd gone back to her silent self and I felt a pang of sadness for her. McNally had really affected her.

Making my way to the kitchen, I disposed my empty can in the trash. I eyed the dinner dishes piled high in the sink and cursed my upbringing because my hands were itching with the need to do them. Aunt Stacy had ingrained it in me that a dirty kitchen was a crime against humanity.

The women here took better care of their motorbikes than they did this house. It was kind of jarring.

"Bloody Marys?" I muttered to myself, proceeding to soak the various pots Monroe had used that evening. "They should call themselves the Dirty Dianas."

I had to give it to Monroe, though. The woman could cook. She was a head chef at one of Sallow County's few four-star restaurants, so that explained it.

"Dirty Dianas? You should put that to vote at the next meeting."

The pot I was holding fell from my hands and into the sink full of soapy water, splashing the entire front of the gray Bloody Marys' T-shirt I was currently wearing. Slowly, I turned around, ready to believe that I wouldn't find anyone standing there. That my mind was playing tricks on me.

It wasn't. Jake was leaning against the kitchen island, his arms folded across his chest. I looked him over, noting how wild his dirt-blonde hair was. It stood up in the places where it was short and fell over his forehead where it was long. He hadn't been shaving, and the light stubble across his jaw and cheeks begged to be touched. He was wearing a nondescript white T-shirt and dark blue jeans. I could hear my heart pounding a couple beats faster than normal and when he took a step toward me, seeming to study me the way I did him, I took an invisible step back by pressing myself against the edge of the sink.

He stopped, and backed away.

"Hello, Maya," he said. So polite. So formal.

"Hello, Jacob." I huffed out a breath. "What are you doing here?"

He ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip, drawing my attention to it. Now, it glistened with moisture, looking so darn pink and full and edible.

What is wrong with me?

"I wanna talk," he uttered, even as I was shaking my head. "Maya, please. I want – no, I need to talk to you."

OK, so I was curious. The last time we'd talked... It hadn't been good.

So I nodded my assent.

Jake cleared his throat. "First, can I... Is it OK if I hug you? I just... That's all. A hug." He implored me with his golden eyes. "Please."

I shook my head when all I wanted was to fall into his arms and inhale his scent and feel his heart beating beneath the cotton of his shirt. It physically pained me to refuse him but a hug would turn into a kiss and a kiss would turn into us christening the kitchen counter. I just knew it. When it came to this man, I just couldn't help myself, no matter the circumstance. I'd proven it at the clubhouse, hadn't I?

Jake's face fell. He looked away for a moment before his eyes met mine again. I couldn't stand to see the hurt in those eyes, yet I couldn't make myself look away.

"I get it," he said softly.

He didn't get it.

I watched him scrub a hand down his face. He straightened up, pushing off the counter. "I didn't mean to fuck you," he muttered, looking dejected. "The last time. I shouldn't have. I should've thought. Been more...considerate. Are you OK?"

"I'm fine," I replied curtly. I was healing up just perfectly. My stitches were beginning to dissolve. Soon, I'd just have a nasty little scar. "You didn't force me. It was wrong, but I wanted it as much as you did."

"Is everything wrong about us?" He sounded like he genuinely wanted to know. He wanted my answer; he wanted the truth.

"Not everything," I told him. I had to clench my hands to keep from reaching out for him. "There's a lot of things right about us. Like how cherished you make me feel when you look at me. Like how I know you like being the little spoon, and how you make me laugh."

I stopped myself before I listed...everything. Besides, we were supposed to be talking in past tense, weren't we?

Jake's eyes lit up, but he didn't try to come near me again. "The little spoon gets to feel your tits pressed against his back." He grimaced. "Sorry. I shouldn't –"

"No, you shouldn't," I agreed, feeling my face heat up.

Silence reigned.

"I went to church," Jake surprised me by saying out of the blue. "It was that, or a head doctor, and I don't know, I like how God doesn't say I see and ply me with meds."

"That isn't funny."

"I'm not being funny, Maya. I'm telling you that I've been examined before. Shrinks are fucking useless and I don't see the point," he told me. "So I went to the church and it was empty. I stood at the doors for a little while, thinking maybe God would smite me for daring to show my face there, but nothing happened. I sat down in one of the pews and broke out into a cold sweat. I felt sick, Maya, but you know what? I also felt – I don't know – safe."

He paused, the look in his eyes asking if I thought that sounded stupid. I gave him a small smile, and he went on.

"I've done bad shit. Shit I can't change. And Maya, I don't wanna lie to you, I will continue doing bad shit." He let out a heavy breath. "I prayed for you and God to forgive me, but I'm under no illusions about where I'm going when I die."

"Ja---"

"Wait. I'm not done yet. McNally found me in church." His brow furrowed. "He sat beside me, said hello, and told me that he wasn't ever going to lay a goddamn hand on me. No, he told me that he would hurt everyone I've ever cared about and watch me suffer."

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. A shiver ran up my spine, and I felt the fine hairs on my skin stand up. Of course, that could've been attributed to the water soaking my front and making the wet fabric stick to my bare skin.

"I don't just care about you, Maya Fenton," Jake said fiercely, "I fuсking love you. And I understand why you wouldn't feel the same about me anymore. I get it now, and I don't blame you. But if something were to happen to you because of me... You were right to walk away from me. I'm gonna give you up and I'm gonna die doing it but at least...at least –"

"You can't turn it on and off like a faucet, Jacob," I spat, making his eyes widen in surprise.

"What?"

"Love, damn you! I didn't just wake up yesterday and think to myself, 'Oh, goodie. I'm out of love with Jacob'!"

Jake tore a hand through his hair, rumpling it up even more. "You dumped me."

I felt my chest tighten remembering the things I'd said to him that night. They were awful things. Awful, but necessary. It was healthier for us to be apart right now.

"Yes, I did," I agreed, "but that doesn't mean I stopped loving you. I still do."

He drew his bottom lip into his mouth before whispering, "I'm gonna put my fuсking arms around you now and you're not gonna stop me. Because I need it, babe. I need to feel you."

The instant the familiar endearment left his lips, I was putty. He marched over to me and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into the warmth of his embrace. I could feel his heart beating erratically in his chest, could smell his scent of soap and laundry detergent. My arms went around his waist and my cheek was pressed against his front. I closed my eyes, listening to his breathing. His nose was in my hair and I couldn't even cringe when I remembered that it had been days since I'd washed it.

"You have to stay with me, at least until I kill McNally," Jake murmured. "You understand that I have to do that, right? I have to finish this. It's the only way."

The sad thing was that I did understand. This was his world. Murder was just an everyday occurrence. Catalina had told me that the woods were a burial ground for the Phantoms' rivals and detractors. I'd probably hiked over numerous graves, picnicked over them, even.

In my silence, Jake continued talking. "I can't keep you safe if you're not around me. I can't sleep knowing I don't know how the fuck you are." Then, the pièce de resistance: "You're putting the Bloody Marys at risk by being here."

Damn it. He had me.

I pulled back, looking up at him. "OK. Point made."

Jake tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I've missed you."

I let him go, but he didn't do the same. "Jacob –"

"I missed you," he repeated, his voice softer.

I tore my eyes from his. "I should go tell the girls I'm going."

"My truck is out front. I'll wait."

The weight of his last two words hit me hard, and when my eyes drifted to his once more, the meaning was clear. "You'll be waiting a long time," I said, more to myself than him.

He leaned in, his breath fanning my face, making me think he was preparing to kiss me. "Doesn't matter, sweetheart," he said instead, one corner of his mouth lifting into a smile. "You're worth it."