I love how you take care of
me. How you keep working to be
a better man. Even on days I fail
to be a better woman.
-IntentionalToday.com
The days come and go, passing me in what feels like a drug-induced haze. I let Nightmare be my strength.
I’ve been strong for the past few years. I took care of Mav when he was sick, up all night crying through fevers and puking. I took him to the hospital when he stepped on that rusty nail and held his hand and promised him the entire world to get him through his pain. I’ve been brave for him each time he’s gotten scared, but this time I just can’t do it. I need someone to be strong and brave for me, and that’s Nightmare.
He takes it in stride, letting me cry when I feel that I need to. He accepts my hits each time I blame him, and he stands still when I pound on his chest in anger. Most of all, through everything, he keeps trying and he shows me love.
He loves me so much, that if my little boy wasn’t missing, my heart would be so full, it would overflow. Through the anger consuming me over my son being taken by a rival club, I love Nightmare in return. I hold on to him for dear life and let him take the reins, knowing inside that he won’t let me drown. He can’t, because I won’t survive on my own anymore.
My cell rings, and it’s a number I’ve never seen before. “Yeah?” I answer, not in the mood to deal with spam calls. I may rip their throats out if presented with the opportunity.
“This Nightmare?” A gravelly voice replies.
“Yep, who the fuck is this?”
“I’m the one keeping your son alive.”
“Motherfucker! You better not hurt him, or I’ll—”
“You’ll do what?” he interrupts, chuckling. “You forget, I’m the one in control.”
“Fine.” My voice is dark, coated in fury, wanting to rip him to shreds as I do my best not to plead. “What the fuck do you want so I can have my kid back?”
“Oh, I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. It’s quite simple, you see. You took something from me, now I take it back.”
“What did I ever take from you?”
“Well for starters, your other club took my son.”
“I’m not responsible for that!”
“I know that, but you took something from me as well.”
“I don’t even know who the fuck you are!” I can’t stop the shouting. I’m so pissed, I feel like my head is going to explode.
“Shadow was my son, and you killed him.”
“He was at my house, threatening my woman.”
“He wouldn’t have hurt her. He was only there for the child. Like I told the women, you take a son from me, I’ll take one from you.”
“Why? Why my son? There are so many other members that have club brats.”
“I know that, we’ve been watching. However, your charter was the one to torch my clubhouse in Cali. So when that sexy bitch Bethany showed up with your kid in tow, it was the perfect opportunity to get my payback.”
“So you’ve been watching the entire time and planning to take him since she showed up?”
“I have…and now he’s mine.”
“The fuck he is. I will find you, and I will get my son back.”
“No, you won’t, but I have a deal for you. You’ll get him back, eventually. He’s going to be raised by me, and when he’s a grown man, I’ll let him go back to you. If he wishes.”
“Not fucking happening,” I grit and the line goes dead, making me shout.
Throwing my phone against the wall, it smashes and I begin to hyperventilate. His words crawled right under my skin and have begun to fester already. I think he’s crazy enough to believe what he’s doing is in his right. He can’t take my son and keep him.
That’s medieval shit, sending your kid to live off with the enemy or another king. In our case a rival club and I’m assuming Puppet is the President over them all. We didn’t snuff out the Iron Fists; we poked the fucking nest and now they’ve come back to swarm.
I’d heard they were a hard club—hell, we all had. That was why we were sent in the first place. We were warned that they don’t fuck around. Neither did we. At least I thought we didn’t. Clearly we had no fucking clue what the hell we were doing.
There’s so much more here, so much under the surface. I can’t just kill the Fists I find like I’d want to; this is going to take planning. How the fuck can I possibly pull this off? There has to be a way.
To think the Iron Fists have just been sitting back and waiting, biding their time for retaliation. We were stupid enough to believe we’d outdone them. The opportunity arose, and they took it, leading us straight into a goddamn trap. I’d bet their clubhouse isn’t even in Oklahoma. It was all a ruse to make the club weak enough for them to easily take what they intended.
“Talk to me,” Ex grumbles.
They haven’t left yet; he and Ruger have been by my side waiting to help me—everyone has. We buried Scot and Bronx yesterday, but I wasn’t present. I loved my brothers, but I have my own shit to deal with. I know if they were here they would understand and want me to keep looking for Maverick.
“What’s going on?” Viking asks immediately, noticing me flipping my shit. I puke again. I’ve lost weight this week from being sick so much, but it’s the only way my body is coping with the stress and pressure I’m under.
“Breathe, brother; tell us what just happened.” Chaos rests his hand on my shoulder, another good friend of mine, having my back. Regardless, without Mav I will blame them, no matter how much I tell myself not to.
“It was him,” I get out between heaves.
I feel like my chest is seizing up, and I’m having a fucking panic attack or some shit. I can’t breathe. It feels like my ribs are squeezing me in a vice grip. Like my heart’s going to burst straight through my chest. It’s not like running too much. It’s like sticking your head under water and being forced to suck in nothing but water. It fills your lungs, weighing your body down, choking you the fuck out.
My vision goes blurry for a moment, and I puke again, but this time nothing comes out. I have nothing left to expel. Acidic aftermath fills my mouth and I gag a few times. The blurred vision is new and not something I want sticking around.
Eventually it passes and I’m able to explain what just happened. I tell them about Puppet and everything that was said. I feel like I’m losing my mind, like this is all a sick joke or a goddamn nightmare and I need to wake up.
Letting it hit me all over, I shut down and go on a rampage, punching and throwing everything I can find. I down a bottle of Jager and then upchuck it all back up, damn near immediately. It gets so bad that I’m pricked with something in my back, and then everything goes black.
Princess shakes me awake, upset.
“What’s happening?” It leaves me in a groggy mumble as I meet her concerned gaze.
“It’s time for you to snap out of it, B.”
“I can’t deal with this, Prissy. There’s nothing I can do.” Brushing her off, I fall back against the pillows. My body aches from lying around and sleeping so much. I have to, though; I can’t handle being awake and not being able to do anything. No one here will let me leave to go find my son. No one has answers. I can’t cope like this.
“The fuck you can’t,” she replies angrily and suddenly she’s straddling my waist. She rears back and unleashes a harsh slap. Copper overtakes my mouth as my lip splits on the inside, and, for the first time in a week, I’m seeing her face clearly. “Shit is happening!” she screams, her bruised face scrunching up in sadness and anger. “No more, Bethany. You’ve fucking slept and moped for a week.”
“Well excuse the fuck out of me, Mrs. Fucking Perfect, but my son was stolen from your husband’s club!” I shout back and the bitch rears back, hitting me again.
It’s enough to infuriate me to the point of throwing her off my waist and jumping out of bed. “Bitch!” I yell, my hand coming to my face as I get some distance from her.
“Do I have your attention now?”
“Yes. What. The. Fuck.”
“Time to pull yourself together and stop being selfish. Your man lost his shit today, and he needs you. He’s doing what he can to hold it together for the both of you, but girlfriend he’s fucking falling. He got a call last night about Maverick that rocked him. He went off the deep end, and your ass needs to pull him the fuck back so he can get your son!”
“What do you mean? What call? Tell me what the fuck you’re talking about, Princess.”
“Nice to finally have your damn attention. We need coffee and I’ll explain everything to you.”
Hours pass as he sleeps, and I pace the clubhouse like a caged animal. Princess was right. I needed coffee, and then I needed her to hold me while I broke again after hearing what Puppet told Night. And then I became angry. It’s what’s keeping me going right now waiting for Nightmare to wake up. He freaked his brothers out so badly, they fed him a mild horse tranquilizer. Thank God the man’s the size of a mountain or they could’ve killed him.
“Ermmm,” he mumbles, waking from his own fog. He’s been asleep since last night.
“I should fucking punch you for letting them knock you out. Really, Nightmare, a whole bottle of Jager?”
“Huh?” His sleepy gaze meets mine, bloodshot to hell. “You’re up?”
“Well one of us had to be since they put you out.”
“They put me out?”
“Yes, sleeping beauty. Now wake the fuck up and find our son, it’s been long enough.”
“What happened to your face?”
“The new shit? Princess.”
“Jesus, I don’t even want to know.”
“It was my wake-up call, now here is yours. Get up, get your shit together or I’ll be the one stabbing you in the throat.” I hold my hand out, coffee cup near the brim. He’s going to need it just like I did.
“I can’t believe you’re out here.” He sits up from one of the couches in the bar.
“In the flesh.” I hand him the coffee and take a seat beside him. “We need a plan, Night. This self-destruction shit we’re doing to ourselves is getting us nowhere. We’ll be stronger together and our son needs us to save him. No one else will.”
“All right then, what did you have in mind?”