CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Seven months later…

Blasting Cannibal Corpse, Ripper pulled his truck off the Harbor Freeway and onto Wilshire Boulevard. Shit was going good. He’d quit drinking hard liquor, stopped smoking green, and work was solid. He’d done a couple of hits for Deuce on the side, earning him a nice bankroll, and he was fucking some airheaded bitch named Colleen or Colette or whatever, that he liked well enough. Liked as in she had a pussy, he had a dick, and if he kept the lights off he didn’t have to see a face that wasn’t the one he wanted to see. You put two and two together and it added up to him not feeling the need to scope out other pussy for the time being.

Yeah, he was an asshole. But a dude’s gotta do what a dude’s gotta do, yeah?

Yeah. Whatever. He was so full of shit, it wasn’t even shit anymore; he was straight up pissing out of his asshole.

Shit wasn’t going good. Shit was just…going.

Barely.

The more time that passed, the more Ripper found himself thinking about a lot of things. About his life before the club, his life with the club, Frankie. Even Eva.

All this free time away from everything he’d known had put a lot of shit into perspective for him. Like how he’d been able to get away from Frankie.

“Eva’s blowin’ up my fuckin’ phone, brother.”

Ripper heard Frankie jump to his feet, heard his heavy booted steps crossing the floor, heard a door creak open, then slam shut.

It took a moment to realize that he was alone.

Eva had saved his life and he’d done nothing but blame her. Maybe subconsciously he’d always known it was Eva who’d saved him, maybe saving his life was what he’d been blaming her for.

Either way, he was a first class asshole.

But mostly he thought about Danny and why she’d stopped calling him.

It bothered him at first. He’d thought something might have happened to her, and he didn’t know how to ask anyone without making them suspicious of why he was asking. But then Deuce had casually mentioned her a few times, so he knew she was still breathing. And like everything else when it came to Danny, he let it drop.

And moved the fuck on.

It was for the best that she’d forgotten about him and what had happened.

Yeah, it was for the best. He just had to keep telling himself that.

Hitting his turn signal, he made a right onto his parents’ street and—

Cox, that stupid motherfucker, was standing in the middle of his driveway, grinning at him.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said, laughing.

He’d barely cleared the truck when Cox surprised the hell out of him and pulled him into a hard hug.

“Fuck you,” Cox growled, squeezing him hard. “Fuck you for makin’ me look for you.”

They pulled apart.

“Dude. Nice hair.”

Laughing, Ripper rubbed his hand over his shaved head and shrugged. “Don’t gotta shower as much.”

Cox snorted. “Nice.”

“Yeah, and what about you? Nice fuckin’ tat,” he said, nodding at the new tattoo of Kami that Cox had on his neck. “What’s that now, your third one of her?”

Cox shrugged. “What can I say? She likes to look at herself.”

He started laughing. “Brother, I need a drink. You want a drink?”

“Depends,” Cox said. “I can’t do strip clubs. Kami fuckin’ knew last time. The bitch can smell a lie a mile away and I ain’t gettin’ locked out of pussy that I fuckin’ own for two whole weeks again. I swear, Ripper, the bitch is psychic. Psychic and crazy and—”

Ripper held his hand up.

“Thanks for sharin’ ’cause, really, I give two fucks about your crazy old lady, but I was only talkin’ brews that I got sittin’ on ice in the kitchen.”

Cox laughed. “Let’s do it.”

Once they both had a drink and were seated, Cox slapped his hand down on the table and grinned at Ripper. “Reason I’m here, brother, is Prez is gettin’ married next week.”

“So?”

“So? That’s your fuckin’ prez and I know you been talkin’ to him. I know he hasn’t said jack shit about you comin’ home for the weddin’, but we both know Prez and you fuckin’ know he wants you there.”

At the thought of seeing Danny again, Ripper’s stomach tightened in anticipation. Even so, he shook his head. “Naw, I already explained this shit to you—”

Cox’s fist came down hard on the table. “You didn’t explain shit! You said you were fucked-up and left. You ain’t lookin’ all that fucked-up to me, and I’m tellin’ you, it’s time to come the fuck home.”

Ripper couldn’t help but grin. “Miss me, huh? Or does Kami miss me?”

For the first time since Cox and Kami got serious, Cox actually smiled at one of his Kami jabs.

“Brother,” Cox said. “Shit has smoothed out back home. Things are good between Prez and Foxy, and whatever the fuck you think you’re goin’ through, you can come back home and go through it there. Where we are. Your fuckin’ family. Havin’ your back.”

“So…everyone is good?” he asked slowly, only really caring about one person in particular.

Cox grimaced. “Prez and Foxy are good, but I’m pretty sure Hawk’s gone crazy, actin’ like an angry hermit and hatin’ on Jase somethin’ fierce for some reason that he’s refusin’ to share with the rest of us.”

Looked like Hawk was still hard up for D.

“Then,” Cox continued, “there was the bullshit with Danny and seriously, brother, I thought Deuce was gonna have her locked up, it was that bad.”

Ripper kept his gaze on his beer even as his entire body jerked to attention at the mention of Danny’s name.

“What was wrong with Danny?” he asked quietly, picking at the label on his beer.

Cox shook his head. “Who the fuck knows? She just stopped talkin’, started gettin’ drunk and high and, get this, hangin’ out with Dirty. She was makin’ scenes left and right, cryin’ and screamin’ at everyone. Straight up, brother, I ain’t never seen a good girl go bad so fuckin’ quick.”

Ripper swallowed thickly, feeling sick to his stomach.

“She good now?” he asked hoarsely.

Cox lifted his shoulder. “She’s better. She ain’t the same but she’s goin’ to college now and her and ZZ are all up in each other—”

Everything just stopped. Screeched to a motherfucking, backbreaking halt. His heart included.

“What?” Ripper interrupted. “Danny and ZZ, what?”

Cox snorted. “Yeah, dude, Danny and ZZ. In love. Fuckin’ crazy, huh?”

Christ. Jesus fucking Christ. No. NO. Aw god, no. He went from feeling sick to pretty sure he was going to vomit.

“Don’t even ask me how those two got together ’cause I don’t know, but Prez is dealin’ with it. He isn’t happy but he’s a whole lot happier than he was when Danny was actin’ nuts. He knows it was because of Z that she stopped flushin’ her whole fuckin’ life down the shitter.”

No. No. No. Just…no.

“And ZZ’s been takin’ some pretty bad beat-downs, which is a whole lot of fuckin’ awesome if you ask me.”

Ripper wasn’t listening anymore. He was too busy trying to remember how to breathe. He’d wanted Danny to move on, forget about him, to meet a guy who would be good to her, give her all the shit he couldn’t…he’d wanted…

How long had he been gone? Around a year? One motherfucking year and she was already in bed with one of his brothers. In love? They were in-motherfucking-love?

She’d lied. The bitch had to have straight up lied. She’d never loved him. He’d been a damn fool to think an eighteen-year-old with a foot still in the cradle had been capable of anything other than the selfish desire to fill the hole inside of her that her fucked-up family had caused.

So, yeah. He’d gotten what he wanted. Only now he knew the truth.

He’d never had it to begin with.

“Ripper?”

He had to clear his throat several times before answering. “Yeah?”

“You’re comin’ back with me, right?”

They stared at each other.

“Why the fuck not,” he choked out, then picked up his beer and downed the remaining contents in one long swallow.