Silver Runners MC

Self-Destruct

I squealed in delight at the sparkling river in front of us. I nearly dropped the orange creamsicle in my hand.

"This has always been our place, huh?" Wolf smiled down at me, his hand on my lower back as he guided us to an old park bench along the bank of the river. I adjusted my tube top and started licking at the popsicle.

Wolf, Trace, Brynn, and I always came down to the Ogeechee River when we were kids, to fish and canoe. It was beautiful, with trees canopying over the water. Serene and calm, everything I wasn't.

"So how have you been? Tell me what I missed." I scooted closer to Wolf, smiling genuinely for the first time in a while.

Wolf stretched, giving me the wolfish smile he got his club nickname from. "Eh, just club business. Banged a few girls here and there. Partied a f**k ton. Mostly was miserable without you."

I snorted, picking at a hole in my black skinny jeans. "My little man w***e only banged a few girls?" I joked, nudging him.

"Haha. You're so funny." Wolf rolled his eyes at me, stopping my fingers from picking at the hole in my jeans. He took the joint from behind his ear, lighting it quickly and inhaling.

"Tell me about rehab though, Rilyn. You disappear for a year and think I'll let you get away with carrying all that s**t alone?" Wolf's blue eyes turned serious as he watched my face closely. He blew smoke out away from me, ever the gentleman.

"What do you want to know?" I asked, tucking a long piece of hair behind my ear. I felt anxiety roll through me. I didn't want to talk about it.

"What was it like? What did they make you do?" He continued puffing on his joint, the reflection of the river sparkling in his eyes.

"Well. When I first got there in September, it was torture. At least withdrawing was. I had a seizure and had to be in the medical ward for like a week straight." I chewed on my lip, remembering wasting away the past autumn in rehab.

Wolf nodded, his eyes on mine. His forehead crinkled in concern.

"By October, I got all your letters. And Trace's, London's, Kane's, Diablo's, all the guys." I smiled to myself, thinking about how most of the guys from the club wrote to me, encouraging me to get sober and come home to them. That I was family and we could all figure it out together. "By winter, I could barely f*****g stand it. Or myself. I barely participated in therapy, I just wanted to sleep. They kept...wanting... to talk about her." I cleared my throat from all emotion. "To talk about Brynn's death. For months, everyday, they tried." I coughed, my fingers itching to steal the joint from Wolf.

I continued on. "The end of February, I was able to leave." Wolf stared at me in surprise. He knew I'd been gone for a year; but was only six months sober. "I checked into a motel, bought a s**t ton of tequila and tried to..." my voice cracked embarrassingly. "Pretty much Drink myself to death."

Wolf exhaled loudly, turning his head away from me. But I could see the pain flash in his eyes. I reached for his hands, some kind of anchor in these terrible memories.

"I guess I was there like three weeks?" I watched as a bird flew over the river, searching for fish. "I can't really remember. Then someone called the police when I wouldn't answer the door and the cops took me back to rehab. Rage kept calling the rehab, threatening to come there and get me." My gut twisted, thinking of his beautiful face.

Rage and I had dated for years. He was the Raging Bastards MC Vice President. Their club was from Augusta, two and a half hours North of Savannah. He was charming, sweet, and funny when we first met. He was the bad boy and my brother forbid me to even look at him, because of who he was and what he did. At first, he never talked about or brought me around his club. He never came with me to any of the Death Reaper club events, for obvious reasons. We were able to keep our relationship a secret for almost a year. Then everything got rocky and my family found out about him. Brynn began to loathe his guts, Trace wanted to kill him, and Wolf tracked my every move when I was out. Brynn was the one who introduced me to him, taking me to a Bastard club party when I was legal. And we just clicked from there.

Wolf scratched at his short beard. "He called you from jail? He got sent away right after you did."

I nodded, thinking of Rage's short phone calls at rehab and the letters saying he'd do anything to get to me, how I'd always be his. He had started treating me like his possession a little bit before Brynn's death. He was controlling, paranoid, and even violent at times. My chest hurt, thinking of his dark, angry eyes.

"Yeah. He told me he'd send some of his brothers to get me. That they had been watching out for me." I avoided Wolf's eyes, still feeling shame at all the time I spent with the Raging Bastards MC instead of my own family.

"Son of a b***h," Wolf cursed. His hands reached for his phone, shooting off a text to someone.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. "Anyways after that, I stopped having contact with him. He was relentless though." His letters got more threatening, until I told the facility to throw them all away. I didn't want them.

"Mostly the therapists wanted to talk about my mom's and dad's deaths, and so we did. They think that's why I have substance abuse problems. We talked about it all and I finished the program and here we are." I shrugged, my fingers reaching into my black backpack for a cigarette.

"You talked about it all?" Wolf stiffened.

I quickly rushed out my words. "Not about club business. Jesus, Luca, you should know me better than that." I lit my cigarette, purposely blowing smoke in his face. I grinned at him, lightening the mood.

Wolf winced, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me to him. We stayed quiet for a long time, just listening to the river in each other's arms. He was so familiar to me, it felt like home.

"Are you ready to talk about that night?" He whispered, his voice strained and cautious.

I pulled away from him quickly, my red hair falling from the loose bun at my neck. I pushed it out of my face, my cheeks on fire.

"No. Fuck." I stood quickly, needing space from him. I turned in the direction of his bike.

"Rilyn!" Wolf called to me, as I came face to face with Trace. I hadn't even heard him pull up. I stopped short, staring into his light green eyes with confusion. The same eyes I saw in the mirror.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my eyes flickering back and forth from Wolf and him. Wolf closed in behind me, stopping a few feet away.

"Trace just wanted to talk to you, Ri." Wolf's voice was deep, rasping with an emotion I didn't recognize.

Trace coughed awkwardly. His white shoes stood out sharply in the fallen leaves. His gravelly voice echoed in the silence. "There's some things you need to know. I think you have the wrong idea."

I stepped away from my brother, bumping into Wolf's chest. His arms came around me gently, trying to comfort me. I shoved him away as hard as I could.

"You f*****g set this up, Wolf?" I asked, my voice betraying how hurt I felt. As much as I loved Trace, it felt a little too raw to be around him right now. I didn't want to think any more about the past.

Wolf turned his back, his face pinched. "You need to talk to your brother, Ri. You're making this into something it's not." He strode away to his bike, quickly placing my helmet on the ground, firing up his motorcycle, and tearing away from the gravel path. Okay then.

Trace cleared his throat, walking towards the bench Wolf and I had just spent an hour on. He pulled his sunglasses low over his eyes, patting the spot next to him.

I sighed, still feeling confused. I took the place next to him, kicking my boots into the dirt.

"Well??" I asked, annoyed.

Trace grinned to himself, amused, shaking his head. "Why are you avoiding me?"

I turned my face towards the sun, pulling on my own sunglasses to hide my eyes. "I'm not." I lied.

Trace snorted, running his hand through his slicked back hair. Calmness radiated from him, bringing me some comfort. "You were gone a whole year and have barely talked to me since."

"Yeah, well, you know why." I muttered, looking around for a way to leave this conversation. Damn Luca.

"That's why I wanted to talk." Trace replied lowly, turning towards me and taking off his sunglasses.

I waited, my fingers drumming on my lap. I suddenly wished I had charged my cell phone, just to have something to distract me.

"Did you know Brynn's death was ruled a suicide..?" His words hit me like a Mack truck, breath leaving my chest in a strangled sound. Right after I had found Brynn, and they carted her body away, Trace refused to believe she was murdered. I had called him that night before the police, hysterical and terrified.

I shook my head no, leaning away from him. I could barely form a response.

Trace's eyebrows rose. "London hacked into the Savannah police departments' records. We looked through everything, Rilyn. They said she used the razor blade...to... uh, slit her throat. There was no other evidence that someone else had been with her that night, except you. And Rage confirmed your alibi. Autopsy said death caused by h****n overdose."

I jumped to my feet angrily, my boots crunching in the rocks below. "You are f*****g lying!" I shouted, struggling to catch my breath. "I found her! The apartment was tossed, the door was kicked in! There was blood everywhere. Where is the actual murder weapon?! Did they test it for prints? She wouldn't have done that! Not to us, Trace!" My voice rose frantically in a scream.

"Rilyn-" Trace stood hesitantly, his hands reaching out to me slowly.

"She wouldn't have f*****g left me, Trace!" I got in his face, my hands pushing him away. The wildlife around us became silent.

"You have to move on, Rilyn. She's gone. She killed herself and she's not coming back." Trace's low words were like a slap to my face. He turned away from me, walking towards his Harley.

"Don't you walk away from me, asshole!" I chased after him, grabbing his muscular arm and turning him towards me. His eyes were stormy, and pissed off. Once again, mirroring mine. He wouldn't lose his temper though.

"How could you not want to find our sister's killer, Trace? Why are you doing this?? I don't understand." I started yelling again, my small hands shaking him as best as I could.

"She was a drug addict who associated with the Raging Bastards, of all people! For the past eight years, she made my life f*****g hell. She hung out with the wrong people and had the f*****g nerve to drag you into her scummy life!" Trace finally yelled back, his voice deafening. "She just couldn't let you have a better life than her!"

I turned my head away then, tears filling my eyes. He was wrong.

"And you! You are determined to follow in her path. Drugs. DUIs. f*****g that piece of s**t Vice President of the Bastards." Trace scoffed, his eyes angry, his face red. Rage was the ultimate betrayal in his eyes. For three years, Trace loathed me for being with his rival.

"f**k you!" I shouted, stomping over to his bike and grabbing my helmet from the ground. "Take me home. I can't believe any of this shit."

"You can be mad all you want. But I f*****g know you. I came into this world with you. You think you're going to find a killer? Justice for Brynn? Look around Rilyn! Everyone you hang around with is a f*****g killer." Trace shook his head, getting on his bike and kicking it to life.

I barely held on to him as he took us back to his house, his bike pushing 90 mph the whole way.