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I was lucky enough to have always been protected in this club, but I had seen things no kid should ever see.
Other MC’s had raided our club before. Often times causing deaths. The earliest memory I had of a shooting at the clubhouse was when I was six. I was sitting at one of the booths, using old pencils to color on napkins, then all of a sudden, there were loud bangs.
I was pulled away from the booth and carried over into the kitchen where the old ladies hid behind the u-shaped counter. I didn’t remember which member brought me in there, but he shouted for us to stay down and don’t make a sound.
Shortly after, I was being cooed in one of the old ladies’ arms while she whispered to me not to be afraid.
I wasn’t afraid in that moment. I had no idea what was happening. The aftermath was what lingered, and to this day made me sick to my stomach.
I was carried out of the kitchen by Rodney, and he pressed my face into his chest so I wouldn’t look around me.
But I got glimpses of my surroundings, taking in the blood-spattered booths and floors. The bar had become a slaughterhouse, and my eyes grew bigger when they took in the most gruesome scene.
A man’s body was on the floor, covered in blood and gun wounds, and where his head was supposed to be was a large, dark puddle of blood. Instead of closing my eyes, they stayed wide open, and I started looking for his head.
Every time I thought back to that moment, I wondered how I could’ve ever been so curious. I didn’t need to see a detached head. Yet, six-year-old Remedy kept looking for it.
Myra’s cry pulled me out of my thoughts. I blinked and looked at her still in Woodrow’s arms.
“You alright, kid?”
“Yes. I’m fine.”
I drank my milk, then I heard the front door open. Agnes was back, and I hoped she was able to change Woodrow’s mood.
“Good morning,” she said as she stepped into the kitchen with two full bags of groceries.
“Morning,” I replied.
“Oh sweetie. Come here.” She put the groceries down and took Myra from Woodrow’s arms, and now that he didn’t have to hold his daughter anymore, he left the kitchen without saying a word.
Something was up. He was too damn quiet.
“Mommy’s here. Let’s have breakfast, hm?”
Myra already had her milk, but she’d need more than that.
“Mind holding her?” Agnes asked. I shook my head and held out my hands to take her, and I sat her down on my lap, holding her with my right hand around her stomach. She smiled up at me and I pressed a kiss to her forehead, then I let her play with my hair.
“Any plans for today?” Agnes asked.
“Not really. You?”
“I was thinking of taking Myra to the park. Have her play in the sand. You want to come with us?”
That sounded refreshing. I needed to spend some time outside for once. “Sounds good.”
Myra had her breakfast, and while Agnes got her dressed, I went upstairs to take a quick shower.
After grabbing my clothes for the day, I reached for my phone on the bedside table and checked if there were any messages from Jagger. Instead of his name on the screen, it was Fender’s.
Can’t get that sweet taste of your pussy off my tongue.
I bit my bottom lip and smiled at his text. I shouldn’t have been smiling. Hell, I shouldn’t have a reaction at all. But I couldn’t help it.
Then, the realization of this just being a fun game to him set in, and I gripped my phone tighter, trying my best to contain myself.
Did you try mouthwash?
