The Rampage MC #3: Atlas and Joy

Chapter 13 (Joy): That's A Dictatorship

"I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light." ~ Holding Out for a Hero, Bonnie Tyler

I walked down to the kitchen the next morning, tired but energized from the relatively good night I'd had. Well, at least the time following Kit starting a fight in my kitchen and Stian bringing me back to the clubhouse. Stian singing Happy Birthday to me had been the sweetest, kindest thing someone had ever done for me and the thought of it would keep me smiling for a long time.

But my smile was wiped away the minute I walked into the kitchen and saw Kit waiting for me, a huge bouquet of wildflowers on the counter and a gift-wrapped package next to a box of very nice chocolates. The man himself was smiling at me, but I didn't smile back.

What was it about men that made them think a bouquet of flowers and a couple of gifts made up for all the shit they'd pulled? As if a few material tokens would draw a veil of forgetfulness over our memory and we'd be so overcome with gratitude that we'd welcome them back into our arms with no more than an I'm sorry.

Did they really think that was all it took? They were trying to perform the equivalent of putting a band aid on a gunshot wound to stop the bleeding. But based on the pleading, expectant look on Kit's face, he thought this would work.

"Could you please put the flowers in the common area? You can put the other things out there, too."

"Joy, these are for you." His voice, like his face, was pleading.

"I don't want them."

He looked shocked, and maybe he was at my rudeness. I'd only ever been his sweet, happy Joy.

Men also expect us to be grateful for something we didn't ask for. They want us to be thankful for these gifts because they finally made an effort and that deserved some recognition. As if we should get on our knees in gratitude that they finally were going to treat us well. Unfortunately, it's a quick fix. Flowers don't mean anything's fixed. Chocolates don't tell me that you're a changed man. You don't have to spend a penny on me because real actions don't cost anything but your time and effort. But that's much more difficult, so flowers it is!

"Joy, I'm sorry I missed your birthday. I forgot –"

"To forget something, you'd have to know it first. My birthday never even registered with you."

"I feel awful. I'll never forget it again, Joy."

"No need to remember random birthdays, Atlas."

"You're not random, Joy. And despite it being a day late, happy birthday."

"I feel all warm and tingly that you remembered me twenty-four hours too late."

"Joy, please, I fucked up but I want you to know I'm sorry and it won't happen again."

"It doesn't matter."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. You matter, sweetheart."

"Can you please move all of that off my prep area?"

With a frustrated sigh, he grabbed the vase of flowers and the chocolates and walked them out to the common area. The gift stayed. Fine. I'd work around it. When Kit returned I assigned him his prep tasks and concentrated on what I needed to coordinate to get breakfast ready for everyone.

"You can ignore me, Joy, but it's not going to stop me," he said after fifteen minutes of working in silence.

I continued to beat the eggs, possibly with more effort than necessary, but that would just make them fluffier.

"I know I messed up in so many ways, Joy, but I just want you to know I'm sorry. I'm going to do better going forward."

Beat beat beat.

"You don't have to say anything. That's not going to stop me. I'll do all the talking until you decide to respond. You're going to, you know. Once you see that I'm serious, that I'm not giving up until you let me claim you and you're on the back of my bike –"

"Stop right there. If you think I'll ever get on the back of the bike that you took Brandie on, you're crazy. Are you just going to keep throwing girls on the bitch seat 'til one of them sticks, Atlas? Because I'll save you the trouble. You're going to have to find someone else to be second to Brandie."

"You're not second to Brandie. Not at all."

"Really? Who was first on the back of your bike? The answer is Brandie. And if I were to go on the back of your bike, what would that make me? The answer is second. I'd be the second woman on the back of your bike. No thank you. I'm not going to settle for second place anymore."

Kit shut his mouth, then nodded. "Agreed."

Well...that was easier than I thought to get him to back off.

He may have backed off about his motorcycle, but the man kept up a constant stream of chatter.

"What I did was wrong, Joy. Starting something with you when I shouldn't have because of the order from Beard. He told us that if we started something with you before you'd been here six months, he'd fire you and blackball you from all jobs within a two hundred mile radius. But the first time you smiled at me? Holy shit, I felt like I'd been struck by a lightning bolt and there was no way I could stay away from you. That was the very first selfish act I committed with you, Joy. And I'm sorry. I should have laid it out for you. But I was afraid if you knew what Beard had threatened, you would have stopped anything happening between us. Maybe that would have been OK before you smiled at me, but from that moment on, I wanted you to be mine."

You have a funny way of showing it.

"Trixie was a problem I didn't handle. I pussied out. She saw me patting your ass and confronted me. One of the brothers must have told her across the pillows why all of the brothers were leaving you alone. She knew something was up or the brothers would have been all over you like they were over the last few cooks. So she knew that I shouldn't have been comfortable enough with you to be patting your ass like I did. The bitch threatened to tell Beard unless I'd be friendly with Brandie in front of the brothers. And I couldn't toss Trixie from the club or threaten her in any way because she'd find a way to tell Beard and you'd lose your job. So I was fucked unless I was willing to kill the bitch, which, let me tell you, sounded like a really good option some days. Most days."

I understand that feeling very well.

"It all went back to me not respecting the order from Beard about leaving you alone. It had a domino effect. That's the only reason Brandie was on the back of my bike before you. No excuse, doesn't make it right, but that's why."

I started filling the serving bowls with food, putting out the bacon and sausage. The fresh biscuits had just come out of the oven, and the eggs were scrambled and fluffy.

Kit, without being asked, put out the plates and I quickly set out the forks and knives.

Just in time for the brothers to start walking in. As always, they stopped first at the coffeemaker and filled the mugs I had ready. Kit had put the biscuits I'd taken out of the oven into a basket.

"Looks good, sweetheart," he said into my ear. "We make a good team."

Don't fall for a few excuses and explanations, Joy.

"We were never a team, Atlas. You were calling all the shots and keeping me in the dark and playing up to another woman for a reason known only to you. You may call that a team, but to me, that's a dictatorship."