Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Autumn

"See you tomorrow night," Lila says and lets out a yawn that's totally fake.

"Night," Striker calls out to her departing back."Don't forget we've got the club barbeque tomorrow. You're helping with the kids."

"I know. I'm not a ditz, big brother," she shouts, not turning around. "Night, Autumn, see you in the morning."

I'm not sure what to think of the fact that she's not reacting to the point I'm still there or that Striker told her I was staying the night. She'd been excited and thought it was, in her words, ‘That's ducking awesome.'I couldn't believe it.

The whole day seems so surreal, and honestly, I'm exhausted from it all. All I want to do is go home and curl up in my bed, but that's not going to happen. Striker's made it apparent I wasn't going anywhere.

Throughout the afternoon and evening, it's been one thing after another. From the moment we left the café, I hadn't wanted to leave. I needed to be there to make sure everything was good, but he dragged me out of there. I hadn't put up a fight. I wanted to, God knows I did. All fight left me when he put me on the back of his bike and just rode.

For a good long while, that's all we did. He took me out of town, taking 258 toward Suffolk, turned in Carrsville, and just watched the scenery. It was beautiful, so freeing. He'd slow for the curves, careful not to take the sharp ones to fast. We ended up in Windsor where he took us up 460 and he got on 95 south. We hit Emporia, and that's when he headed home.

I'd been surprised to see he lived in a three-bedroom log house sitting outside the city limit. It's a beauty, and I love how it sits a good way back. You can see some of it from the road, but there's still privacy. On either side of him, he has neighbors, but neither of them is right on top.

The inside of his place was spacious, with an open plan build. The kitchen and living space were all connected. Off the living room was a hallway that had a bathroom, and where Striker's bedroom was located. Going the other way leads next to the kitchen. There's a set of stairs that lead up to the second floor, where Lila's room and a spare room are set up. There's also a door leading to the garage, where I found Striker had two other bikes parked.

"You're quiet," Striker says, his voice gentle as he pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Just tired," I answer and give a shrug while curling my arms tighter around my knees.

Striker twists and reaches across the couch to snag me around the waist. He drags me to him and adjusts us both so we're stretched out along the couch. One of my legs is tangled with his while the other is hitched up to his waist.

"How'd you enjoy dinner?" he asks, stroking along my spine.

"Okay, I suppose." I shrug.

Saying the evening was eventful is an understatement.

Tony got there, and when he did, he had two other men with him. They and Striker had a lot of laughs reminiscing. They talked battle stories. Some dicey ones. Others were hilarious even if they freaked me out.

Then, Tony started in on me, telling stories to Striker, Lila, and Athena about me. Some of the antics I got in alongside Avery. The most humiliating one he told was the story about the ketchup bottle. Not that it was humiliating as much as it was horrifying. We'd been out to eat with Tony's grandparents. I'd gone for the ketchup bottle. It was one of the glass bottles, and the ketchup wasn't coming out. So, I put the cap back on, or I thought I did. Well, when I went to shake it, the cap flew off, and ketchup went everywhere on Tony and his grandfather. Both men thought it was hilarious. They'd eaten the rest of their meals with stained shirts.

Tony went on to tell another story, this one about how I pounced on a girl in school and threatened to jab her eye out with a pencil when she wouldn't stop making jokes about another student who had and struggling with the reading. I ended up in detention rather than being suspended or expelled.

I finally had to put a stop to it when he told the story about me cutting a girl's hair at the ponytail. I mean, I did it, but I'd done it in retaliation for what she'd done. The girl had used a permanent marker and wrote whore on Avery's cheek when she'd fallen asleep by accident in class.

I mean, she totally deserved it and never messed with my sister again. Back then, I went by the rule of an eye for an eye.

"Do I need to be hiding the kitchen utensils from you?" Striker chuckles and adjusts us so we're even cozier.

I swat at his stomach and do my best to seem annoyed. It's not too hard, but I'm also exhausted, and laying like this is comfortable. More so than I thought it could. "No, you don't have to hide anything. I'm more mature now than I was back then. Though, in my defense, they had it coming."

"I've no doubt." He snorts. His fingers sliding up and down feel good, and I find myself relaxing more and more. "We still gotta have our talk."

Great. I was so hoping we'd be able to put that off.

To maybe never.

Then again, I know there was no getting out of it. He's my only way out of here. After everyone left, which happened just a few minutes before Lila rushed out of here with her fake yawn, I knew it was coming.

"Fine," I finally say with a huff, though I close my eyes because I don't think I could keep them open if I tried.

"Mama?" he murmurs.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" I ask, unable to keep the sleep out of my voice. I couldn't hide it if I wanted to.

"Because I can," he remarks, seemingly amused.

"Whatever," I mumble.

Striker doesn't say anything, but that doesn't stop me from feeling his body shake with laughter, which I ignore because, for the first time in God knows how long, I decide to give in to the exhaustion. Mostly, I just let the scent of leather and cologne lull me to sleep.

"Rick, you can't do this." I bang on the door once again, flat palm and jerk at the handle.

"She's fuckin' mine, and you took her from me." Rick whirls around, waving the gun in my direction with one hand, holding my sister to him by her neck in the other. "I'm not going to let you or anyone else take her from me."

Avery's eyes meet mine, and I see the knowing fear in hers. She knows what he's going to do. I know what he's going to do. He's going to kill her like he's threatened to do more times than I can remember.

"Rick, we can talk about this." I try once again to get him to calm down. "Just put the gun down, and we can talk about this. You know you don't want to hurt her. If you love her, you won't kill her."

"The hell I won't." Rick turns the gun back to my sister's head. "She's mine. If I kill her, no one can take her from me again."

Tears roll down Avery's cheeks. "Don't let him kill me, Autumn. Help me."

"I'm trying," I scream, struggling with the door.

Rick laughs, and the gun goes off. Avery's body falls, eyes staring up at me. "You didn't help me. I thought you loved me. That you'd always protect me. That's what sisters are supposed to do."

"I tried," I cry out. "I really tried. I swear it."

"Mama, wake up."

I jerk upright at the voice, my breathing erratic, my eyes feeling like they're going to pop out of their sockets. Worse, the feeling of needing to throw up is nearly overwhelming. I scramble away, escaping the arms holding me, and rush out of the bed, my hands covering my mouth as I search the dark for the bathroom.

A soft glow fills the room, and I immediately see the dark entrance to the bathroom. I rush, barely making it, before dropping to my knees and vomiting.

"Fuck," Striker curses behind me and comes closer, stroking my back while using his other hand to brush my hair out of the way. I don't know how it got out of the messy bun I had it in or how I got to Striker's bed. The last thing I remember was falling asleep curled up to Striker on his couch.

When there's nothing left to throw up, I collapse and sob right there on the bathroom floor. There's no way I couldn't. The dream is still fresh in my head.

I find myself being lifted off the floor and set on the counter. Water comes on, and Striker comes in my blurred vision. He doesn't say anything, and I don't bother either. He stays silent while bringing a washcloth and cleaning my face. He then surprises me by tossing it in the sink and pulling out a fresh toothbrush.

"I can do that," I finally say, not about to let him brush my teeth for me when he hands it over with the toothpaste on it.

"Have at it, Mama," he murmurs, far too gently.

I pop the toothbrush in my mouth and slide off the counter to turn toward it, all while brushing the taste of vomit away. Once I finish, I rinse my mouth and the toothbrush and, without thinking, put the toothbrush in the holder next to Striker's.

"Thank you," I say without looking up. There's no way I can face Striker, not without humiliation.

"Not a problem," Striker mutters and curls an arm around my waist. "Come on, let's go back to bed."

I nod, agreeing, and let him guide me there, though all I want to do is run and hide.

Striker scoops me off my feet and lays me on the bed, climbing in next to me.

"Better?" he asks, curling himself around my back.

"No," I whisper, not wanting to talk about it, but I don't bother lying and saying I am.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

This I didn't know. No one ever has been in a bed with me long enough, let alone able to hear me.

"You were screaming, Autumn," he says, not waiting for me to answer. I guess my silence was answer enough. "You have a lot of nightmares?"

"Yes." Again, I don't lie. "Every night."

"That's why you go home late and leave so early for work," he says more to himself than to me.

"How do you know when I get home and leave?" I blurt out without thinking, though it's kind of creepy he knows this. "Have you been spying on me?"

"Haven't been spying on you, Mama, not exactly," he answers.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I roll over, my body front to front with his.

"Means the building's owned by someone close to the club. They know you're in with the ol' ladies, that Athena works for you, it was brought to our attention."

I stiffen as he explains this. "It was brought to your attention?" I don't like the sound of that.

"Yeah," He tightens his arms around me, keeping me from pulling away as I want to. "You're associated with the club through the women, which means you have club protection. After what happened with you being kidnapped, there's no way the club wasn't gonna have eyes on you."

"Is that why I'm here right now?" The question is out before I can stop it from passing my lips. "Is that the sudden reason for you being so interested in me when I know I'm not your type? "

"Mama, you don't know what my type is," Striker says. He rolls me to my back, his body coming over mine, caging me in beneath him.

"Then what exactly is it you're playing at? You've never noticed me before, and suddenly, you think it's your right to not only touch me but to kiss me."

"You think I didn't notice you?" He growls, dipping his face down until we're nose to nose. "Woman, I saw you at Horse and Kenny's vow renewal wedding ceremony. Didn't know your name, but I saw you. Seen you other times too. Just ‘cause I didn't do anything doesn't mean I didn't see something I like. Each time I saw you, I thought you were pretty, knew you had to be sweet. Also saw that you were shy. Any man who goes for a woman like you can't be a man who isn't looking for something. You're a woman who deserves more than a fuck and thump."

"Fuck and thump?"

"Yeah, a fuck and thump, where you fuck ‘em and kick ‘em from your bed," he explains. His nose brushes mine, and he brings a hand up to cup the side of my face. "You ain't a fuck and thump, Mama. I couldn't treat you like that."

"Then why the sudden interest?" I ask. I inwardly wince at how weak my tone comes across.

"Because I knew it was time to stop fuckin' around when you called me a jerkface while talking to my sister, taking her to your office for an interview. I saw that backbone I knew you had to have in you. Then I learned around the security footage, sat on it for a week before deciding not to fuck around anymore and make you mine."

Whoa. That's . . . That's . . . I don't know what to think of this bit of information. It's huge news. Massive, gigantic, and it scares the daylights out of me.

"Now, do you want to get a bit more shut-eye, or are we going to have that talk you got out of last night when you passed out on me?"

"I didn't just pass out on you," I state in defense of my falling asleep on him. "I was comfy and exhausted. I didn't sleep well the night before." I didn't sleep at all, and for months, I haven't slept for long periods of time.

"Then go back to sleep, Mama. We'll get some more rest, then when we get up, you and I'll talk while I make breakfast for you."

"I have to go to the café," I say.

"No, you don't. It's Sunday, and I know you don't open until noon and only for lunch traffic for the churchgoers. I also know Athena's goin' in to help your cook, Chris, I believe you two called him. I heard her telling you to take a day off. It's something you need to do. So, you're doing it. "

Damn it all to hell. I didn't think he'd heard that conversation. I didn't want him to.

However, if I'm honest with myself, I do like where I'm at. Maybe I could even get a bit more sleep. Or I can try to prolong not having to have any conversation with Striker. He's already freaking me out enough as it is.

Yeah, sleeping more would be good.