Page 19 of Paladin's Hell

Chapter 7

Moira

Present day

It’s one of those evenings when it’s impossible to settle. Each time I get comfortable my body starts burning, sweat pouring off my brow. So I open the window, standing there for a moment, letting the freezing cold air cool me. Back on the couch, within minutes I’m too cold, so I’m getting up to close the window again. Fuck I hate this. My thermostat’s broken. Jeez. What a state to be in. It’s not long before I’m back to wiping my dripping face. No wonder Hell can’t stand to be near me.

What’s he doing now?

My mind tortures me with images of his still lean ass pounding in to a willing sweet butt. Any of them would go with him without giving a thought to me, his wife. One reason I no longer go to the compound. They’d let me know if they’d scored one over on me, a snide comment here, a knowing look there. I wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Thirty-six years we’ve been married. Lots to show for it. Not least my gorgeous kids. I stare at the photographs on the mantelpiece. There’s Demon, looking fine in his cut and leaning against his Harley. That was taken on a ride last year. The last time I remember being on Hellfire’s bike.

Then there’s Kennedy, my beautiful daughter. She got married a few months back, and I’m hoping there’ll be grandchildren in my near future. I admit to having breathed a sigh of relief when she finally settled down with a good man. Accountants don’t need to be boring, and at least, she has nothing to do with the club. I didn’t want that for my daughter.

Then there’s Samuel. My, but he was an afterthought. Didn’t think we were going to be lucky with another. There’s eight years between him and Kennedy, but it saved me having empty-nest syndrome too early. He’s at college, brains of the family went to him. He’s studying law—Hellfire suggested he concentrate on the criminal side. My lips curve as I recall the conversation. Samuel’s a good boy nowadays. Still relies a lot on his mom. Still getting us to bail him out when his student allowance doesn’t stretch to feeding him. He’ll learn. In time.

Does it upset me that the menopause signals no more babies for me? Nah, not at all. I’ve done my part to repopulate the world. And got three great kids to show for it.

I just hope Hellfire also appreciates how much he’s got, and doesn’t throw it away. If I know for certain he’s been unfaithful, I’ll file for divorce. Couldn’t live with this uneasy feeling inside of me. I’m not that woman who would turn a blind eye. There’d be ugly fights, uglier tears. Trying to work on a marriage that’s failed wouldn’t be worth it. That’s why I don’t want to know for sure. Want to hang on to these last few days, weeks, months when I’m in ignorance. The day he admits it, well, he’s not coming back.

How did it come to this?

We’d overcome the worst beginning a marriage could ever have. I’d always thought our relationship was unshakeable, that having survived what we had, nothing could come between us. We were it. For life.

His father had raped me. Had tricked me into his room under the pretext of showing me some old photographs. Said since we were going to be family, I ought to see them. He was the president of the club; how could I refuse? It’s only when he shut and locked the door behind me, I realised his intentions were something else entirely.

It might have been thirty-six years ago, but the memories still come back to haunt me, especially times like this when I’m feeling low. I’d turned and looked at him, seeing something positively evil in his eyes, summoning up the only defence I thought I had.

“I’m with Carter,” I say, firmly.

“You’re a bitch. You don’t care whose cock you ride. Came here with the hangarounds tonight, knew what you were asking for.”

My heart’s beating fast. How do I get out of this? “I’m with Carter.” I repeat, wondering why I allowed Jeannie to persuade me to accompany her tonight. I knew it was wrong. Carter had told me it was best I didn’t come to the club. Not until he patched in. “I’m sorry,” I try to tell him. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’ll just leave.”

It’s as if I hadn’t spoken. “Prospects can’t claim women. Asshole’s been lying if he told you other than that.” He walks closer, near enough I can smell his perspiration. My nose wrinkles, it’s unpleasant. “And why would you want a boy, when you can have a man? The president at that. Doesn’t get much better, sweetheart. Now why don’t you show me what you’ve got. Strip.”

I refuse. He won’t listen. I say no. He ignores it. I scream, the music from downstairs drowns my cries out. I fight him, of course I do. But he’s so much stronger, he easily overpowers me, laughing as he does and when each of my weak kicks misses its mark. Then he roughly takes what I’d preserved for so long, what I wanted to give to Carter.

I’d refused to see Carter. Hadn’t wanted anything to do with him ever again. My thoughts of him tainted by his father. My greatest fear was coming face to face with Blackie, him perhaps even wanting more. There could be no future between Carter and I. Family dinners? I couldn’t even imagine it. I was scared of Carter, was he like his father? Had I had a lucky escape? Would he have become fed up with waiting and forced me himself?

I was embarrassed too, not wanting my parents to know. I had gone to a notorious biker club, where girls only go for one thing. Biker cock. In their eyes, I would have been asking for it. In most people’s eyes, I suspect.

Telling my folks only that I’d broken up with my boyfriend, they were sympathetic at least as far as to follow my instructions when answering the phone, telling him I wasn’t home, or that I didn’t want to speak to him. He came to the door, my father turned him away, and then shook his head at me. I’d been dating a biker. What did I expect?

One time I’d tortured myself, and had watched him ride away, noticing his cut no longer read Prospect, but instead had a full patch there. The patch he’d been after. Did he get that because he allowed his father to hurt me? Was that the price he had paid?

“You can’t keep yourself hidden away, Mo. It’s not healthy.”

I’m not sure if I’m glad Jeannie’s come to visit or not. That night she’d left her hook-up to come with me, taken me back to her place, looked after me. But the loss of my ‘cherry’, as she put it, didn’t seem such an earth-shattering event to her, while I was completely devastated.

Worse, she seems to have found a boyfriend, the biker she went with that night. She’s always at the clubhouse, and reporting back how much fun she’s having, while I just wish I could erase its existence from the earth.

She hasn’t seen Carter’s father around, and there seems to be a new president, but she knows no more than that. When I ask her, she heard nothing to suggest his disappearance is related to me. Bikers live a mysterious life, I’m told. They never divulge their business, even to those they take as old ladies.

“I’m not feeling well, Jeannie. Leave me be.”

“How, not well, Mo?” Where men are concerned she’s shallow, but she’s got a good heart underneath.

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