A Biker’s Tiny Present (Rebel Vipers MC Christmas Standalone)

CHAPTER TWELVE

RILEY

I’m wide awake the second the door swings open. The clock on the nightstand reads ten-oh-five p.m. and I push back the blanket, fly out of bed, and jump at Tiny. God, it feels so good to be back in his arms.

The last nine hours have been a roller coaster of emotions. Several times I swung from being extremely happy, feeling super welcomed in the club, to the opposite end and facing some serious blues. I didn’t know where Tiny and the other guys went. He wouldn’t tell me where they were going, only that they had a lead on Taylor’s boss and had to track it down.

I could tell all afternoon that Nicky was feeling my blues. He ate less than normal, refusing to finish a whole bottle any time I tried to feed him. I laid him down for a nap shortly after Tiny left, but he cried for almost thirty minutes before he exhausted himself enough and passed out. Putting him down for the night went a little smoother, but not by much. I just had fallen asleep when Tiny returned.

Holding me up, he backs out into the hallway, shutting the door behind me, and carries me into an empty room across the hall. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stay attached to Tiny and am in his lap again.

“This is my favorite spot.” I burrow as deep into him as I can. I missed this. I missed him.

Tiny rubs his hands up and down my back, over my backside, down my legs, touching me everywhere his maneuvering hands can reach. “In my lap?”

“Uh huh,” I mumble and nod into his neck.

“You can sit on my lap any time you want.”

“Good.”

Tiny hugs me and says the worst words anyone in a relationship can hear. “Hey, Riley. We need to talk about somethin’.”

I sit back and look him square in the eyes. “Taylor is gone, isn’t she?” I already know the truth, but I need to hear him say it out loud. I need to hear it before I can accept that my life is about to change again, but not in a good way.

“I’m sorry,” he answers and nods, verifying my worst fear. “How much do you want me to tell you?”

“I want it all. Don’t leave out any details. I need to know what happened to her.”

“You sure?”

“Please, Tiny,” I take his face in my hands and beg him. “I can’t move forward unless I know.”

It may be macabre, and I’ll probably have nightmares for a few days, but I need details in order to process.

I hate that I never get to talk to my sister again. I hate how Nicky will grow up not being able to remember how amazing his mother’s hugs were. And I hate even more that Tiny has to sit here and tell me everything that happened to her. He had to witness it once already based on the haunted look in his eyes, and now I’m forcing him to trudge through the mud all over again.

“Alright,” Tiny says with a sigh. “If it becomes too much and you need me to stop, just say so and I won’t say another word.”

“Tell me,” I beg. “Please.”

Sitting in Tiny’s lap, not letting go of my grip on his Rebel Repairs sweatshirt, I listen as he tells me the horrors that his Brothers found in that asshole’s house. He tells me about where they found her body, what physical shape she was in, and what they suspect had been done to her.

I listen as he goes into gruesome detail about the torture he inflicted on the man who murdered my sister. I take in every word and absorb the knowledge that a man is currently being turned from bone and flesh into ash, then washed down the drain erasing his existence from the land of the living. I take it all in as tears flow down my cheeks, crying the poison of knowing he existed from my mind.

From this day forward, only happy memories of Taylor will be shared. Only stories of her joyous moments will be told to Nicky as he grows. I will give her son a great life and raise him in her honor.

With Tiny by my side, I will teach him to love others, not spread hate. We will guide him to be fierce, but also loyal and kind and courteous. We will raise him to know it’s not okay to lay a hand on a woman out of anger. So much from our childhoods will be used as lessons to give our boy a better life. I don’t mind if he follows in his father’s boot prints and joins the club when he’s old enough, because even in the short time I’ve been here, I’ve witnessed the character of these men.

They are strong. They are sturdy. They are our future.

Tiny carries me back to our bed and I snuggle in as he underdresses, shedding the heavy stress of the day. Crawling in beside me, Tiny rolls me over and pulls my back into his chest. “Tomorrow morning we’ll talk with Whiskey about a funeral for Taylor,” Tiny whispers in my ear. “That okay?”

“Yea.” I nod as new tears start to fall, but these ones are happy tears. Happy that I know she’ll be laid to rest properly, happy I’ll get to say goodbye to my sister, truly content for the first time in two days.