Before I Wake: A Kimber S. Dawn MC Novel Read online

  “Not used to visitors in here when I get off. Rox is—”

  Shit. It’s probably too soon to mention Rox. Much less the odds and ends of our even odder relationship. There’s no way in hell I’m mentioning Roxy’s current location.

  “Rox usually works. She doesn’t get off till seven or eight.” I nod. then hook my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m gonna go hop in the shower. You didn’t rummage through any of my shit while I was gone, did ya?” I chuckle and head towards the bathroom, highly doubting she’d be so ignorant.

  Puffing her chest up, she crosses her arms over it in my peripheral as she steps forward, ignoring the bottle of water. And then she does the stupidest thing she possibly could. She tattles on herself.

  “As a matter of fact, I did. I want my necklace back. Now. I realize, by all rights, it’s justifiably yours. But I’d like you to take into consideration that, in this life, there’s very little I place much value on. And the number of things that I have from my past are very few and far between. So, before you directly disregard me and my request, please keep this in mind: I cannot name the number of times that necklace has been my saving grace over the years of my life. I know you don’t remember me. I know you don’t remember shit, much less a knobby-kneed little girl who had the proclivity of running her mouth and climbing fucking trees, but I’ve been here. And, right now, I’ll do just about anything if you’ll give me back that necklace. I swear I won’t lose it. And I promise, cross my heart, that I’ll give it back. I just…”

  “You need to learn about Jesus,” I taunt her. Sort of on purpose, I guess. I’m maybe trying to get her to smile.

  “Yeah. You’ve said that before too.” She smirks, and finally, the tension between us releases its hold a little bit.

  “I’m gonna go hop in the shower. You mind eating supper with me? Or, if you’ve already eaten, sitting with me while I do?” Changing the subject, I try to put some much-needed space between us. I’m not sure how I want this to play out.

  But, if I can gather intel and gain some answers from her, that’ll fucking work too.

  “No, I haven’t eaten. Actually, I’m starving.” She smiles, and when it falters, I hurry to clear her concerns.

  “I’ll text Dreads. What do you want to eat, a burger? I think the grill was still lit on my way up.” I drop the towel, and when her eyes go as wide as saucers, I know she sees I’m still packing. I may not remember her, but I want to make fucking sure she remembers me.

  “Y-yeah...a burger’s good,” she stammers before snatching her water bottle off my bureau, where I set it on my way into the bathroom. Then she hightails it back to her side of the threshold.

  Figures. I chuckle before heading under the showers spray and shutting the curtain. “Just about figures. The little pipsqueak,” I mutter around the warm water flooding my mouth.

  “I heard that.” Her voice, though it’s small, is mighty as it courses through the small room and echoes off the walls. “And I want that necklace, Jacques. I’ll fucking play nice...for as long as I have to. You want me close ’cause I’m an enemy. Fine, whatever. I can be good. Just give me the cross, okay? I can’t—I don’t know how to explain it. I just need it. Please.”

  “Dinner first. Then we’ll see. Deal, Eve? I’m dirty, and I want some peace and quiet while I shower. Okay?” I grunt, grabbing the shampoo bottle and squeezing some out into my palm.

  As I lather the shit in my hair, her calm words ring out through the shower curtain.

  “Fine. Dinner with you...is fine. But I’m serious about the necklace. And I won’t let the subject go, either. As long as I’m close enough to hear, I’ll be bitching. I want the necklace. I’m serious, Jacques.”

  After I’ve stepped from the shower, I hook my towel around my waist and dry my hair with a smaller one. Then I head from the bathroom. When I find Eve curled up on my bed, passed the hell out, something inside my rib cage hammers against it. I curl my hand into a fist before shoving it against the ache in my chest, and for reasons I can’t explain, I hurry to cover her the rest of the way up with my comforter. Then I tuck her in.

  Once I’m dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt for the night, I slip my feet in my house shoes and quickly text Dreads.

  Me: Hey, man. Bring up two burgers and fries. Don’t fucking ask. Has King said anything?

  I set my phone on the bedside table. Then I ease next to her on the bed. Like I said, I can’t fucking explain my actions. They’re just happening. And I just fucking let them, for lack of a better goddamn idea of what to do.

  When my phone dings, notifying me of an incoming text, it startles the little vagabond in my bed. She sits up before stretching her arms over her head and smiling.

  “Sorry. I’m so tired lately,” she mutters as I glance down at my phone.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I reply.

  Dreads: Nails is headed up with two well-done burgers. And no. King’s not back in town yet. Tomorrow morning.

  I hold my phone up before returning her smile. “Supper’s headed up.” I stand from the bed and head in the direction of my bureau. There, I shoot Dreads a text asking for Eve’s father’s ETA and then chunk my phone on top of my dresser. After I open the top drawer, I grasp the silver chain as soon as my hand feels its coolness. Then I curl it around my fist and pull my hand out of the drawer before slipping it into my pocket.

  “I assume you like your burger well-done. I hope that wasn’t wrong on my part?” I ask, raising my eyebrows and allowing the smirk to slither its way across my face. And my dimples make their appearance.

  She’s fucking cute as shit. And I don’t remember tapping it… So that makes her a virgin to me. Sue me. I’ve never dipped into a pregnant chick before, and from what I’ve heard...it’s much wetter. And worth every effort.

  “Well-done’s fine. Why are you suddenly being so nice,? You want more answers? Don’t you?” she asks, her tone laced with suspicion.

  “Of course. But I also figured maybe hanging out with you wouldn’t be so bad. I’m not going to regret that though. Am I?” I chuckle and almost go to settle beside her on the bed. But someone knocks, interrupting my movement. “Shit. Hold on a sec. It’s Nails. He’s bringing our dinner.”

  After Nails has made several sideways glances towards Eve, I shuffle the trays away from him and slam the door shut behind his intruding ass a few seconds later.

  Once I’ve set her plate next to her crossed legs, I settle on top of the bed with my legs in Indian-style too. Facing her. Then I set my plate on my lap.

  “So…” I begin out of pure boredom. “Six months, huh? You didn’t even know? Never crossed your mind you were pregnant? Not one time in the six months Ben held you captive in his basement? It was his basement, right? That’s what Dreads said Philip said.” I make sure I’ve got the story correct, making eye contact with her.

  “Yes. I’m six months pregnant. And yes, believe it or not. Mention it or not—the baby is yours. As for where your sick psychotic cousin held me against my will, I’m not certain. I just know there were stairs leading up to a house. A house I never saw past the first room of, which was a kitchen—in case you were wondering.” She spits the last few words at me.

  “Okay. Cool your jets, Momma. I’m just making small talk. That’s all.” I’ve learned over the past few months that, if you can keep a calm resolve, almost anything—nine times out of ten—works out more in your favor. I plan on seizing this opportunity to do just that.

  Remain calm. And remember, as far as she needs to know, there’s no rush. There’s no threat.

  Not to her. And not to her baby.

  She can’t fucking know the shit that was in the letter that came with the last No Name No Colors bike. Not yet. She can’t know me and the brothers just held a vote and lives are about to be lost. Not hers though—at least not yet. The lingering thought quickly enters then leaves my mind. No, not hers…but definitely Roxy’s.

  If Eve had any idea how unstable our current founda
tions are right now, she would more than lose her shit. She’d fall the fuck apart. I may not know her, but I’m not dumb. That’s for damn sure.

  Yeah, we’re just gonna talk. About the easy shit. But that’s it.

  When I wake up the next morning, I’m facing the planes upon planes of dark, tanned, tattooed back. I can’t help the smile that walks its way across my face as my eyes follow the lines of ink everywhere and the sun filters in through the curtains and across his flesh.

  As slowly as I can, I turn onto my side and tuck my hand under my face. Then I settle in to watch him breathe as he sleeps. My gaze moves from the lines tattooed across his shoulders and his back to the actual lines of him. Where the crook of his arm meets the dip of his waist and the sheet just barely covers the crevice of his butt crack. Then I focus on the pattern of his deep breathing, pulling my eyes back to his broad, freckled shoulders.

  I don’t know what I’m doing here. I mean, I know how I ended up here. I get that. After eating, he and I lay down. On top of the covers and fully clothed. Okay, well, I remained fully clothed. He obviously lost a T-shirt last night—at least he pulled the top covers up over his lower half. But we weren’t touching. And we just talked. About everything. His MC. My growing up. His amnesia. My sister’s funeral. The one I missed.

  We talked about everything except the elephant in the room. And we talked until I fell asleep.

  I’m going to be honest with you, mainly ’cause I need you to be prepared. And I can’t promise you I am. My nerves are going to get the better of me soon. And probably a lot sooner rather than later. Especially with my father getting back this morning. That’s one conversation I’m not looking forward to. But, where my family is concerned, you shouldn't be surprised. I hardly look forward to anything if it has to do with them. There’s still so much left unsaid. And way too much I don’t know from both of my parents.

  “How long do you plan on lying here, pretending to be asleep?” Jacques’s sleep-laden voice rumbles through the space between us before he rolls onto his other side and faces me. “I can go get us some coffee while you decide whether or not you want to wake up.” He smiles at me, and as his navy-blue eyes pierce into mine, for the first time, I notice the lines around them.

  “Okay. Coffee sounds good. It’s been a while,” I mutter around another yawn and then smile.

  When he moves to stand from the bed, the sheet slides down from around his waist...and keeps sliding. Which reveals he didn’t just lose his shirt as he slept last night. He lost it all. Including the socks.

  “Sorry. The deeper into REM sleep I get, the faster the clothes come off. I used to think it was a blessing, but I the older I get the more I see it as a curse.” He shrugs, scratching his chest. “I didn’t wake you by talking in my sleep, did I? My sleep pattern has been so fucked lately. I wasn’t expecting to even get a wink last night. Especially with the headache that was plaguing me all day yesterday. So, coffee... You want sugar? Cream?” He slides his jogging pants up his thighs before tying the string at the waist and slipping a T-shirt over his head. Then he runs his fingers through his dark, graying hair and loops a ponytail around it as he looks down at me, waiting on my answer. Or answers.

  The shit the sun does to his dark, almost-black blue eyes should be illegal, in all honesty.

  “No sugar. No cream. Straight black, please.” I smile before finishing with, “And no, you didn’t. I didn’t hear you say anything in your sleep.” After shaking my head, I scoot from the top of the bed. And the covers. I was a good girl last night. Then I make my way towards my room. The one I should’ve freaking woken up in. “I’m going to shower.” I nod and keep my eyes down, skirting my way around him until I’m behind the safety of the door between our rooms.

  It doesn’t take me long to shower. After, I finger my hair into a braid and pull on another T-shirt and some yoga pants. As I’m stepping from the bathroom, some of the steam follows me into the closet-sized room. I mutter while trying to find my makeup bag, “You’d think, if my clothes keep popping up, I could find some lip gloss. But I guess not.” Then when I spot a tube in the bottom of my bag, I do a little jig. “Yes!”

  I’m bringing the wand to my lips when Jacques storms into the room like a damn hurricane. Okay, we can’t keep doing this hot-and-cold shit. Come here. Or stay. He’s gotta make up his mind.

  I screw the lid on the lip gloss on a little too tight before stalking towards his room. Once I’m through the door, I let him have it.

  “Okay. This nice-one-second, pissed-the-next thing is getting exhausting. I’m surprised I don’t have whiplash—”

  When he storms past me, I flap my mouth closed. Then I speak again as he walks back past me the other way only to be stopped by his words.

  “Change in plans.” He begins plucking my clothes from various surfaces.

  When he grabs my bra and holds it up before looking back at me with a smirk on his face, I almost blush. Almost.

  “Sexy.” He chuckles and tosses it into my bag. “But seriously, shit just got real. Your pops is back. They found another bike. And this one’s note was a little more descriptive. Whoever was after your sister is now after you. And pissed that Ben didn’t fucking kill you when he had the chance. Apparently, you were supposed to have been dead. Not multiplying.” He nods at my even more pronounced pregnant belly.

  And I swear, since learning about it two days ago, I’ve gone from bloated to obviously pregnant. How the hell does that happen?

  “It’s Roxy.” I laugh at his ignorance and almost feel ashamed for not having mentioned this before. “I’m sorry, but are you fucking blind? I know you lost your mind. Or your memory or whatever. But isn’t it a little more than obvious? When do I need to speak to the police again, Jacques? That still hasn’t been mentioned. Actually, I’m a little surprised the hospital released me without doing so. Aren’t you?”

  Why in the hell are these questions just dawning on me?

  I zero in on his eyes as more questions bombard me. “What does Roxy do? Jacques, what does she do? Where does she work? I saw her in teal scrubs once. Here. When I was a kid. The night—” I shake my head, refusing to fucking go there. If he wants to continue avoiding the obvious, so will I. “My nurse at Mt. Sinai had on dark-blue scrubs. But housekeeping wore teal. Where does she work, Jacques?”

  He doesn’t have to answer. Though I’ll be fucking damned if he thinks I’ll let it slide when he tries to avoid it.

  “How do you know it’s Roxy? Did you see her?”

  “Yes! Where does she work?!” I scream. “And stop packing my shit. What are you doing?” I jump to grab my bag from his hand, but he stops me.

  “It doesn’t matter. Your pops already made the call. You’re heading out with him and Philip in thirty minutes. It’s for the best right now. I can’t take care of you here, not with all the shit going on. Hell, I shouldn’t be taking care of you at all. You have a family now. You’re not my responsibility. You’re theirs. DDDs.”

  I wonder why he winces and squeezes his eyes closed as the last part is said. But I wouldn’t dare wonder aloud. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, not after he’s shattered a heart he’s already shattered so many times before. And, now, he doesn’t even remember it? Any of it?! None of the pain, none of the agony. But neither the bliss. He also doesn’t get to remember the highs. Like the lows, those are mine and mine alone now.

  He slams my bag against my chest before taking both of his hands and grabbing my upper arms tightly. After he slowly slides his palms up and around the top of my shoulders, he sinks his hands into the hair at the nape of my neck. My bag drops to the floor at our feet as he pulls me closer to him, until the fronts of our bodies are flush. And, when his face is less than an inch from mine, he mutters, “You’re like the tree that falls and makes no sound. I know in the marrow of my bones how vital you are. But I don’t remember. So, like the tree that falls and no one hears, if I don’t remember, did it really happen?”

  Riddles
. I don’t like them. Never have. And that’s all he has. I asked specific questions, questions I expected specific answers to, and instead, he’s feeding me riddles. I move to shove against him, back away. Put the space I need between us. But he suddenly has me cinched up by one arm around my waist, his other hand still gripping the back of my neck yet oddly cupping my jaw.

  “Just fucking stop it, Vagabond. Okay? Just fucking stop.”

  The look that crosses his features as he furrows his brow is marred in pain. And then, a split second later, his mouth is crashing against mine.

  His tongue delves, circling before withdrawing. And then his teeth nip at my bottom lip. When a guttural moan escapes my lips, his mouth catches it before swallowing it whole. His kiss is urgent and rough, and his stubbled beard abrades the skin on my face, but it doesn’t stop my arms from slowly circling his neck.

  His rough, callused hands move, shoving their way up my body, squeezing when they reach my hips. And when they’re just under my arms, they circle again before tightening. He lifts me from the floor. When our mouths separate, we’re gasping for every breath. Using one of his hands, he reaches into his pants pocket. But I’m not paying attention to where his hands are. Not anymore. Not with the current look he’s aiming my way.

  “The tree that falls and makes no sound,” he repeats as he sets me back onto the floor.

  One of his hands picks my hair up from around my neck, and then his other strings a silver chain around it before they both meet in the middle behind the back of my neck and clasp.

  I glance down at my necklace—his necklace.

  “Your pops is waiting downstairs. Sorry our time has been cut short, Pipsqueak. I at least wanted a little more time before real life interrupted us again. To see if anything came back, but it looks like fate’s not on our side. Oh, and by the way, King said Ty flew in last night. He wants to take you to Lauryn’s house before y’all head out. They’re probably waiting on for you now.”