Revved Up Soul: A MC Romance (5 page)

And just like that, the curtain fell. It was all over in a horrifying instant, his flame snuffed.

Jasmine called the time of death, moved passed the judging hospital personnel and grabbed the patients chart. Someone had taken the time to fill out the barest of essentials when the deceased was admitted.

You’re a miserable failure, you fool. Her hands were still unsteady, and the image of the man bleeding out was seared now into her brain. He died because you wouldn’t save him, you should have done more – why did it have to be this way? Why didn’t you do
something
.

Jasmine sank down against the ivory wall of the spacious lobby. Stinging, that was all she could feel in her eyes – a hand curling into a fist against her heart. Jasmine’s teary eyes flicked across the page of the patient’s chart until they settled on a singular, frightening detail.

Her hair stiffly bristled as she lingered for what seemed an eternity on the man’s name.

Able A. Reynolds

CHAPTER FOUR

Jasmine

Jasmine could barely breathe. This was
not
how things were supposed to be – these kinds of things are what sent her to the bottle in the past. She couldn’t sit still on the black bench, it was hard and biting against her person – she wondered (if only to distract her mind) why they even made these things.

Time passed by all too slowly, she could feel that invisible noose tightening ‘round and ‘round her neck. She had checked with one of the nurses and they’d informed her that Luke was on his way when his brother was taken in via ambulance.

Jasmine’s head sunk downward, her raven hair of ringlets spilled along the side of her head. You’re a terrible person; she bit down on her lip and pressed her arms tighter against her middle.

Then there was the sound of frantic footfalls.

Jasmine looked up.

She’d never seen a man look so dire before. Luke’s face was somewhere between the hard lines of anger and crushing sorrow. Their eyes locked.

Jasmine’s heart lurched into her throat, rooting itself there – tightness consumed her body.

Luke broke contact, craning his head to the room where his brother died. He looked back to Jasmine “Is he in there?” His words came out in a terrible, terrible strain – the faintest glimmers of hope in his voice.

Jasmine swallowed. God, if you’re up there – if, if you’ve ever been. Please.

Luke’s eyes flashed with anger. “Hey!” He snapped white-hot, leaning in Jasmine’s direction. “Is my
brother
in—“ he jabbed a finger, and then brought his hand to his mouth, sucking in a quick breath before taking a couple of steps forward, “is he in that room?” He asked plaintively, switching moods fast.

Jasmine finally summoned the strength to meekly get up from her bench. There was no easy way to say this, nothing could prepare you for it. He looks truly lost.

Taking another set of tentative steps, Luke kept looking between Jasmine and the room. Clear lines slowly ran down his flushed face and his hand was shaking over his mouth.

“We did everything we could,” Jasmine’s throat tightened and her chest felt empty, yet painfully skewered all the same.

“No,” the tears glinted in his eyes. “No, no-no-no,” he sank to his knees beneath an impossible weight. Luke took in a sharp breath and leaned back against the wall, burying himself within his chest and arms. The sounds that left him made her bones ice over, and for one brief – horrible moment – she was right there with him, the nightly air caressing her coolly and the brightest star fading into black. She swore that she could hear the sounds of the waves crashing.

Jasmine stepped forward, approaching the man carefully.

Luke slammed his balled fist against the wall behind him, shouting in the throes of anger. “No!” He wiped his eyes. “No you
stay—
you stay
away
from me,” he sounded sickened. Disgusted. Like Jasmine were a pox that might spread if it got too close.

Sadness cloaked around her person, drenching deep her bones. Heat trilled up her spine, blooming in the back of her head.

I’m sorry. I tried to save him . . . she retreated two solemn steps, swallowing and averting her gaze from the man.

Luke glared, “Don’t fucking come near me,” he growled, moving up close to her and jabbing a finger at her face. “This is on
you
,” he spat with a venom and turned, walking with quick, powerful strokes like a lion on the savannah.

Jasmine’s head hung low as she watched him, out of the corner of her eye, go towards what remained of his brother.

I’ll never see him again, she thought. And I don’t deserve to.

CHAPTER FIVE

Luke

Fifteen shots and he was already on his eighth, one for each day after. Silver tequila never was his game, but it was Able’s whenever he was socializing. Luke brought the glass to his lips and tilted it back, slamming the shot down onto the bar and shaking his head. Alex, Benny and Sexton were down at the end of the bar, laughing and hollering between one another. Luke idly fingered the second half of the family rings, which was attached now to a silver chain around his neck. It was the last memento that they had from Dad, when brought together the bronze rings would spell out ‘brother’.

Kayla wrapped an arm around the back of Luke’s neck. Considerable care had to be taken when drunk around her, lest he tell her how he really
felt. He made a poor attempt to shrug her arm off, just her touch was enough to make him want to do another shot – of course it wasn’t always this way with her. Some days were good, hell some were
really
good.

But most of them were just a headache. Green orbs with black slits swam into Luke’s mind’s eye as he shut tight his lids. “You’re killin’ my buzz,” Luke enunciated the words slowly to his ‘girlfriend’ – he didn’t dare to think of the woman as his old lady.

“Don’t be so mopey, Tiger,” Kayla replied, nursing her pale ale. Like you have anything to be sad about, Luke glanced over at the woman, warmth curling against his chest in a slow simmer of anger. Your dad pays for everything, and when you’re lucid enough to realize that you’re not high, you go through
my
paper and make like a kite.

Luke shrugged the woman off of his shoulder, eliciting a nasty look.

It was then that Gabriel took a seat on the other side of him, signaling the bartender for a beer. Gabriel had medium length, rich chocolate colored hair, which cascaded to his shoulders. He turned to face Luke; his eyes like two bottomless pits they were so dark. “Nothing,” he said quietly, the man had a powerful voice but spoke very softly more often than not. It was colored with a subtle bit of country, and was typically low and slick. “Someone has to have seen something,” Luke put a hand to his forehead, the room was starting to spin at this point.

Eyes searching, Gabriel commented, “Maybe you should slow down.”

Kayla scoffed, “Let him do him,” she said and sipped her pale ale, tilting her head back further and further. “He’s got to get over this shit somehow.”

Gabriel shook his head, “I don’t think so,” he replied, “this isn’t something you just get over . . .”

Exhaling a long breath, Luke had to fight back at the stinging behind his eyes. Every heartbeat feels like a wrong one without you, bro.

Finishing her beer, she sat it back down on the table. “I’m just saying,” she started, “there’s slack that needs picking up, and he’s the only who can do it.”

Gabriel nodded appreciatively at the bartender, taking his beer and having a swig. “All I’m saying is that, that there’s nothing –
nothing
out there,” the man closed his eyes a moment, “Silence from Los Demonios, Earl’s clueless, Sheriff Martine has his head wayyy too far up his ass. It has to be someone right beside us, you know?” Gabriel had another drink of his beer, “too quiet to be an enemy, why make it something it’s not? Why not leave your mark if you’re trying to send a message.”

It felt like a man had smacked him upside the head with a pillowcase full of rocks, Luke’s head pounded relentlessly. “No,” he managed, “nobody would do that. Not even Robert. Killing a Knight . . . there’s nothing worse.”

Shaking his head, Gabriel brought his hands together and rested his chin on them. “I know it’s not easy to accept—“

“No. I
don’t
accept that,” Luke growled, the anger rising in his chest – he could feel the seals of his self-control buckling under the pressure now. “This was underhanded shit Gabe. You know just as well as I do when we got problems, we make it clear.”

Gabriel said nothing, his eyes drifting.

“Someone
murdered
my brother, and we’re going to find them, and when we do, everyone is going to show them what it means to cross a true Knight.” Luke downed another shot before groaning and getting up from his barstool. I need to get outta here, he thought. He shook his head and muttered that he would be back, shuffling his way out of the clubhouse. He had to get away from them, from everything.

The two lights of his life, one new and one old, were gone.

CHAPTER SIX

Jasmine

The man had a scraggy white beard and sad, sleepless bags for eyes. He was practically dressed in rags, aside from his nice but well-worn sneakers – the man had taken care to wrap up his dirty gold Labrador in a great big towel, holding it to his chest.

Jasmine stepped under the concrete awning of the restaurant, the rain picking up a bit. It was good that she brought her umbrella. She padded over to the man and sat beside him, trying to politely ignore his smell.

The scraggy bearded man looked over to Jasmine, the dog whimpered and glanced over as well. “Hi there,” he offered, his voice sort of hollow, “whose that? Huh Jasper?” The man pet the side of the dog’s face affectionately.

The corner of her mouth lifted, “Hey, that’s a cute dog you have there. How long have you had him?”

“Going on four years now,” he gave Jasper’s head a soft series of pats.

Jasmine reached over and scratched underneath the dog’s neck; it raised its chin in response, letting her fingers dance where they pleased. “Well you’re lucky to have him, he’s beautiful. How long you been on the streets, if you don’t mind me asking,” Jasmine wondered how long it might take her date to arrive. She hated being the only punctual human being in her social circles.

“Six years now, heh, it ain’t easy . . . cold but it’s still beautiful out. How I like it, even when I had a home, would always sit on the stoops and listen to the rain.”

“Yeah,” Jasmine agreed, looking out at the lazy gray sky, “there’s just something about the rain,” she inhaled, catching the wet and earthly scent.

The homeless man nodded his head, playing with Jasper’s ear now.

Something pricked at Jasmine’s heart as the moments ticked on by, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet producing two twenty dollar bills. “Here,” she said gingerly, offering the paper to the man.

His eyes went wide with appreciation, his hand hesitating a moment to take it from her own, “Hey now that’s—you don’t need t-to do that.”

“I don’t need to,” she said, “I want to.” Jasmine pushed her hand out further, stretching as far as her arm would allow.

A couple of heartbeats later and the man resigned, carefully accepting the bills from her small hand. “Thanks ma’am.”

“You’re welcome, I know what it’s like to be down on your luck,” that wasn’t entirely true, her parents had been there for her plenty, she hoped it would make him feel better about taking the money. The two continued to chat for a brief while. It had been a month since she’d seen Luke, the grey clouds looming above her made her think about what had happened – how she slipped up and it costed a man his life. He wasn’t going to make it, she knew. It had already been twenty minutes. Just leave it alone, stop beating yourself up over this . . . give yourself a break. But she couldn’t. It reminded her of too many things, and too many things reminded her of it.

He’s not coming, she thought, getting up from her spot by the homeless man and stepping out into the sidewalk.

Rain pattered softly against her yellow umbrella and a smile walked across the lines of her face when she saw Dale coming around the corner. Jasmine had only met him a couple of weeks ago when she took her Rav4 in to get looked at – the two struck a quick bond. He seems sweet, even if the bastard did keep me waiting, Jasmine thought. She moved over to meet him.

Dale walked over to Jasmine, moving along with her underneath the protection of the concrete canopy above. It had a simplistic red covering and a decidedly fancy black font. Dale wrapped up his umbrella and looked over at Jasmine. He had simple green eyes, caring ones, and a nice oval face with surprisingly pretty white skin. For some reason Jasmine expected him to show up with oil stains, but he was anything if not clean – his beard shaved neatly and his hair parted with gel to one side.