Chapter Eight

R uger pushed out the clubhouse door with a beer bottle in one hand and a lighter in the other. He lit the cigarette in his mouth. The music and raised voices behind him no longer entertained him. He was on his eighth beer and still couldn't relax enough to go to sleep.

Maverick and Bane stood at the fire barrel. He looked over at the row of bikes. Jagger hadn't shown up to the party. He had to admit his respect for his MC brother rose even more, knowing he stayed home for Katrina's sake. His daughter had no business being around the bikers in her condition. She was a hard worker, always jumping in to pour a drink or two. Pregnancy wouldn't stop her, and Jagger was smart enough to know the only way to keep her calm and stress-free was to entertain her at home.

"Yo, Ruger." Dio held up a blunt. "Want a hit?"

He shook his head. Life in prison had taught him a lot. Once he let anyone into his life, he was vulnerable. If he hadn't given a shit about Jagger, he would've let him take the rap for killing his father's murderer, and he could've raised Katrina.

Instead, he lost everything because he allowed the vulnerability to creep in.

But he'd do it again, especially knowing Jagger was now responsible for Katrina. Katrina had a good man. A man who followed the bylaws. A man who would take care of her.

Ruger wasn't looking for friends. He wasn't looking to save anyone else. He only wanted a solid future with the security of keeping his freedom.

He'd stopped depending on others a long time ago. Everyone disappointed him—he disappointed everyone.

Wire and Cora walked out of the clubhouse, arm in arm, and headed toward Cora's car.

Lifting his drink, he drained the last half of the beer and tossed the bottle into the garbage can. He put his cigarette in his mouth and inhaled deeply, exhaling the smoke. It was hard to believe he had a baby sister a couple of years younger than Katrina.

For years, he held on to the bitterness that his parents refused to support him when he told them about getting his girlfriend pregnant. They rather he pay to have Sheila abort the baby. But that baby was Katrina. His blood. Even before Katrina was born, he understood family loyalty better than his parents.

He would never walk away from his child like his parents let him walk away without a word. No matter how old Katrina was, it was his job to make sure she was safe, provided for, and loved.

But dealing with his parents happened a lifetime ago. Both his parents were now dead, and he couldn't say he missed them. They were dead to him the moment he left home with Sheila beside him.

Six short months afterward, Sheila proved to him that she wasn't cut out to be a mom. She hightailed it to the highway the moment she could walk after giving birth to Katrina, only making him more determined to never put that kind of hurt on his daughter.

Cora smiled at Wire from the driver's seat. Ruger rubbed the back of his neck. His sister wanted to include him in her life and wouldn't take the hint that he wasn't interested in expanding his family.

Wire could take care of Cora. Even if she hadn't had a Havlin member as her old man, she was set for life with their parents' estate money. She had everything at her fingertips. Money, security, respect. She didn't need him.

But, he couldn't help looking at his sister when she wasn't aware of him around. She sure was pretty like their mom. Almost a damn splitting image of how he remembered her.

"He thinks his shit don't stink."

"Dare you to tell him that to his face. He's a big motherfucker. I heard he got life, but the prison let him out early because he caused more damage inside than they could deal with."

He looked over at the group of Havlin members, talking smack.

"My money was on Prez. I still say he could've taken Ruger out if he fought back," said Steward.

Ruger stubbed out his cigarette. There was no skin off his back if the others wanted to speculate about him. The more rumors floated around, the more people stayed away from him.

"He probably wore the bitch out that he had staying with him." Steward laughed loudly. "I wouldn't have minded if she stuck around and gave us all a turn. Once the bruises and swelling went down, she was a fucking hottie."

Talking about Rachel was where they crossed the line. They could talk shit about him until they lost their voices, but no one was allowed to talk about Rachel.

Ruger made it across the parking lot before Steward could open his mouth again. He pulled back his arm and punched the younger Havlin member straight in the nose. Tate and Freddy stepped in to protect their friend.

If alcohol couldn't relax him enough to sleep, he'd wear some of the adrenaline off with a fight. Throwing Freddy to the ground, he delivered a swift kick to his midsection. Seeing Tate coming at him from the side, Ruger popped his elbow up and clipped him in the jaw, sending him spinning.

The others getting involved gave Steward time to get to his feet. Ruger caught him by the front of his throat and lifted him six inches off the ground. Digging his fingers into his neck, he brought Steward eye level with him.

"If I ever hear you speak about Rachel again, I'll kill you."

Garble came from Steward's throat. Ruger let go, dropping him like a rock to the ground. He looked at the others, making sure they understood he was talking to each of them.

Then, he strolled over to his Harley, sat down, and lit another cigarette. He felt better than when he rolled up with Rachel on his back after suffering through beatings every day. His hands were strong. His ribs no longer hurt.

Bane walked over to him. Ruger glanced at the vice president of Havlin. One wrong word from Bane, and he would have no problem throwing a few more hits.

"You'll have a new schedule starting Monday." Bane widened his stance. "Jagger put you on Crew Two, so enjoy your weekend."

He knuckle-bumped Bane before the V.P. walked back into the clubhouse. Ruger flexed his fingers. The move out of the parts shop happened faster than he'd expected. He was anxious to get out and ride and work security.

Finishing the cigarette, he threw his leg off the Harley when the stray cat that hung around the clubhouse walked up and rubbed against his boot. He bent over and scooped up the cat, who hissed and squirmed. He'd heard that Skye, Maverick's daughter, had earned the money to take the cat in after her last litter and have her fixed. He put the cat on the ground when a soft meow came behind him.

He walked around the bike and spotted the kitten. Only one left out of the litter hadn't found a new home. Knowing the kitten was friendlier than the mama, he scooped up the baby and held it against his chest.

Dio jogged over, picked up the mama cat, and opened the clubhouse door, letting the cat inside. Ruger pointed at the kitten in his arms.

"Put it inside when you're done holding it." Dio chuckled. "I promised Skye I'd put them in the clubhouse if I spotted them tonight."

"Is she going to miss this one if I take it?" asked Ruger.

"You want the cat?"

"Hell no." He tucked the kitten into his vest. "But I know someone who would take care of it."

"Yeah, go ahead. Skye's looking for a home for it. I'll tell her you took care of it." Dio stepped away. "Thanks, brother."

He was probably making a mistake. The kitten was only an excuse to return to Rachel's apartment and check on her. But the cat needed a place to stay, and Rachel needed something she could hold and love. Maybe she would sleep better at night when a cat was around.

He put on his helmet. The kitten sank its claws into his chest. Deciding he'd never make it to Offshore without the cat crawling out from inside his vest, he put the kitten in the duffle bag, making sure the zipper wouldn't come unzipped while he rode.

Looking forward to the night ride, he took off from the clubhouse, leaving the others to party.

In Offshore, he made his way through the streets to Rachel's apartment door with the feisty kitten who no longer wanted to be carried. The ride had taken all its patience. She would need to get used to living life without her mama.

He looked around. It was after midnight. Despite the complex filled with families, it was quiet. Some teenage boys hanging around the staircase looked at him but went back to smoking their cigarettes and bullshitting.

He stopped outside the door and knocked. After several seconds, he said, "Rachel? It's me. Ruger."

His voice boomed in the night. Imagining her freaking out over having someone at her apartment door that late at night, he knocked again and spoke louder. "It's Ruger."

"Shut up," yelled a woman several apartments away. "You wake up my kids, and you'll have to put them back to sleep because I'm done fighting with them."

He looked down the length of the complex. It would be the woman who woke her kids up if she continued to bitch.

The door in front of him opened a crack and then flew open, hitting the wall in the apartment. Rachel grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.

"What happened?" she whispered, holding on to him.

"Nothing." He glanced down at her breasts pressed against his arm through her thin t-shirt. "Everything's okay."

She sagged against him. "I thought..."

He understood what was going on in her head. She thought Los Li members were close and going to come and get her. He cleared his throat and rubbed her back, settling her after the scare he'd given her.

The kitten meowed.

Rachel stiffened and pulled away from him. "What was that?"

He reached inside his vest, where the kitten clung to his shirt, and pulled out the ball of fluff. "I thought you might like someone to stay with you in the apartment."

"Oh, my God." She backed away.

He tilted his head. Had he done the wrong thing?

You're giving me a kitten?" she whispered, stepping forward again. "Really?"

He held the cat out to her.

She took the kitten and held it under her chin. He chuckled. Just like that, the kitten snuggled up to her as if she understood Rachel had a lot of love to give.

Rachel gazed up at him. "I can keep it?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat.

She was making too big of a deal out of the cat. It was just a stray needing a home. He thought the kitten could keep her company. Maybe help her adapt after the kidnapping.

He scratched the back of his head. He hadn't thought things through when he got the idea to surprise her with the cat. All he wanted to do was see her again. But the cat would need a litterbox and food.

"I'm gonna ride around and find a store that's open." He stepped toward the door. "I'll be back. Lock the door."

"Mm-hm." She rubbed her cheek against the kitten's fur, following him.

He stepped outside and waited for the click of the lock. Then, he walked to his motorcycle. He'd leave once he had her set up to take care of a pet.

Rachel would survive on her own. She had the cat to love on now.