Scarred Asphalt (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Thorne needed familiarity.

The events of last night had sent her into a tailspin that
she wasn’t so sure she was going to recover from.

Every fiber inside of her wanted to grab Dalton’s gun and
put one right between that bitch’s eyes. It had been like her emotions went on
vacation and the little devil on her shoulder wanted Gabby dead. Thorne knew
she would have had no regrets. Hell, she didn’t have them now. She knew Gabby
would have to have reconstructive surgery, but the satisfaction of hurting
someone that was associated with the club that had killed her sister overrode
her Good Samaritan values.

When she had awakened from her little impromptu siesta, she
had to come to grips with reality all over again. Sitting at the table was her
sister’s daughter. Her niece. Romeo’s little girl. It was too much to take in.

It didn’t help that Romeo had lost his mind when he found
out what she had done to Gabby. Thorne may have unintentionally started an
all-out war between the two clubs. He had complimented her on a job well done,
after
he tore Dalton a new asshole for letting Thorne get the best of him.

Once she got home, Thorne went directly to bed, not saying a
word to Dalton. She was pissed at all of them, Dalton included. He had known
the whole time about Maggie and what had happened, and yet he kept it to
himself. He could take their so-called budding relationship and shove it up his
ass. One thing Thorne could not stand was being lied to. And everyone she knew
had done just that. There was not a single being in her tiny circle of friends
that hadn’t lied to her.

Thorne didn’t want to get up when her alarm went off at
eight in the morning. She dragged the covers back over her head and nestled
down into the warmth of her bed, her eyes slowly drifting closed once more. It
was blissful to just lay there and be lazy.

“Gurl, git yer lazy ass outta that bed. I gots some shoppin’
to do and I need a partner in crime.”

Thorne’s eyes snapped open as the male, but yet feminine,
voice filled the room. Throwing the covers back, she knew her smile lit the
room as Antonia stood in her doorway. He wore a pair of skinny jeans, a V-neck
black T-shirt, and a pair of black Vans. His micro-braids were multicolored, as
were the fake eyelashes the drag queen loved to wear. “Antonia!”

He made a courtly bow with a wiggle of those well-manicured
brows. “The one and only. Now get up and get dressed. I need some girl time and
help picking out some pageant outfits for the finals.”

Thorne scooted off the bed, darting over to her closet to
grab out some shorts and a flowy tank top to wear. Slipping on her Chaco’s, she
grabbed her brush, and glanced to Antonia, a frown forming. “Did Amy put you up
to this?”

Antonia’s hand flew to his heart as his lashes fluttered; an
astonished look crossed the caramel-kissed features. “Darlin’, you ought to
know me by now.”

“So in other words, yes.” Thorne grumped, tossing her brush
on her dresser. She should have known Amy couldn’t keep her nose to herself.
Clamping her hands around her waist, Thorne cut her eyes toward Antonia. “I
swear, why can’t someone just want to be around me, just because they want to,
not because someone asked them to?”

Smacking his lips, making a loud
pop
, Antonia lifted
up an index finger, wagging it back and forth as he moved his head from side to
side. “You listen up and listen good, girly-girl. No one, and I mean no one,
tell me what to do or when to do it. Amy found out I was comin’ here to see you
and asked me to check on you because you was upset. Nothin’ more. Now, if you
don’t want to go shopping with me, all Pretty Woman style, so you can tell me
if my ass looks big, then just say so, but don’t be using Amy as an excuse.”

Thorne hung her head as Antonia scolded her, feeling a bit
guilty at taking out her anger on the drag queen. “I’ll go. I’m just pissed off
and confused and…” Thorne lifted up her bare shoulders, letting them fall back
down. “I don’t know what I am. The shit that happened—”

Antonia clucked his tongue at Thorne, cutting her off.
“Nuhuh. Close them lips. We will discuss it over lunch. As of right now, I’ve
got sales to hit and bitches to make envious of this.” He motioned up and down
with his hand, indicating his body. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself and put on
a smiley face, even if you don’t mean it. I need girl time and I aim to get it.
We can gossip and have a bitch fest later.”

Later ended up being four hours and ten stores later.
Antonia had to try on every article of clothing from Santa Maria to San Luis.
Not finding what he wanted turned into a road trip to Santa Barbara. Thorne was
glad they took his car and not the Tahoe, since it was a gas guzzler. Plus, it
gave her time to just relax and enjoy the time she was sharing with a friend.

Antonia paraded around in various outfits, outrageous in
color and style, but very fitting for his colorful personality. He had her
laughing in no time and even had Thorne trying on a few outfits to see what she
would look like in them. Hell, she barely remembered her scars, catching
herself now and then and hiding them with her hair.

She ended up buying some denim booty shorts and a couple of
pairs of jeans, liking the way she looked in them. Antonia snuck in and bought
her a couple of revealing tops and threw in a pair of fuzzy handcuffs from the
back section of a store they found that carried a fully stocked adult section.

Now, they were in a small café on State Street, enjoying a
light lunch of salad and coffee. Antonia grumbled the whole time about having
to eat healthy, but he had his girlish figure to maintain.

“Now, do you want to tell me what the beef between everyone
is?” His penciled-in eyebrow lifted in question as he leaned back in his seat.

Thorne wasn’t sure she wanted to end her great day by
depressing herself and then growing angry at the lies she had been told by the
people she trusted the most. How could she trust her partner now, knowing he
withheld information like he had from her?

“I found out, from Dalton’s ex, how Maggie really died.”

Antonia widened his eyes slightly in confusion, motioning
her to continue. “That doesn’t tell me shit, babe. Mags died with Demon.”

Thorne shook her head, pushing around her salad with her
fork. Looking at Antonia from under her lashes, she let out a slow breath. “No,
that is what we were told. Maggie was gang raped by the guys that Demon ran
with, then beaten and tortured, and left on the side of the road to die.”

“Oh, Lawdy,” Antonia fanned himself with his hand, adjusting
the way he was sitting in his seat.

“Exactly. Everyone knew the truth but me, and obviously you.
Amy told everyone not to tell me the truth.”

Sucking in his cheeks, Antonia nodded slowly. Taking in a
deep breath, he started to speak, then paused as if he was trying to decide
what to say. “It was club business, yes?”

“Yeah?”

“It was during your most vulnerable and trying time. Am I
correct?”

Thorne cocked her head slightly to the left, studying
Antonia. “Yes, why?”

“I’m sorry sugar. I’d have lied to you to.” Antonia threw up
his hand to silence Thorne before she ripped into him. “Think about it, honey.
Are you a club bitch? No. So you’re on a need to know basis, and you didn’t
need to know. You were already grief stricken from your accident, and you’re
still
not over it. Why add extra onto your burdened shoulders? Why make you look
differently at your sister? She was an amazing, giving, and loving woman. Her
memory needs to be left that way. Think about those who know what happened to
her, and the last memory they have of her; it’s more than likely a memory of
how she was made a victim and brutalized. You at least have her beauty left to
remember. So get off your high horse and get the fuck over it. They did what
they thought was best for you at the time. Now that you know, does that change
how you see Maggie?”

Thorne wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of the ass chewing
she was receiving. Did she need it? Yes, she did. She hadn’t looked at it from
the perspective that Antonia was shedding the light on. She had been walking
around feeling sorry for herself for a while now. That much was true.

“I didn’t think so. And as for you…” Antonia looked
pointedly at Thorne, duck lips forming as he threw up his hand and pointed
directly at her. “You need to quit the one-woman pity party. I’m sorry, Thorne
baby, but damn. It’s been almost a year. Do you think the soldiers who have
their limbs blown off in combat wouldn’t kill to have the two scars you have
and not be disabled? They move the fuck on, girl. They find ways of using their
disability
to their advantage. You? You have a scar that tells a tale of
survival, it gives your pretty ass character. Am I jealous? Hell to the yes.
I’d kill to look like you, scar and all. At least it makes for one hell of a
conversation piece.”

Her brows shot up as she stared at Antonia. Most people
wouldn’t have dared to speak to her the way he did. But that was what made
Antonia, Antonia. He could get away with things others couldn’t dream of. “I
will never model again. That’s why I’m so upset over the scars.”

“Okay, I’m throwing up the bullshit card.” He sniffed the
air, wrinkling up his nose. “Yep, definitely smell some bull shit up in here.
There’s this thing called Photoshopping. It works wonders. Do you honestly
think those models looks half as fucking good as you or I do? Hells nah. They
got zits all up on their grill.” Antonia wiggled his red-painted fingers in
front of his face to emphasize the zit remark. “And let me tell you something,
have you not seen the newest craze of models? They are scarred in one way or
another. It is
real
, Espina Lopez. People relate to that and find the
beauty in the scars, not the ugliness that you seem to dwell on. So get the
fuck over yourself and get back to that sassy girl we all know and adore to
pieces, and the girl whose ass we want to kick on a regular basis because she
looks so damn fine.”

Thorne couldn’t help but break out in laughter at Antonio’s
antics. He had a way of making everything better, one way or another. “There’s
one other thing.”

“You’re pregnant.”

Thorne snorted coffee out her nose, her hand cupping her
face as she gasped, her other hand snatching up her napkin to wipe her nose and
mouth. “What?” she managed to squeak out.

“I’m sure you and Mister Stud have bumped uglies a time or
two.”

“Oh dear God, Antonia.” Thorne laughed, trying not to turn
red, but her cheeks felt warm, letting her know she was failing miserably at
it. “I’m not pregnant. And did you know that Maggie had a daughter with Romeo?”

Antonia blinked and looked away, lips pursing, then popping
as he turned back to face Thorne. “I’m one of the few who did, yes. Rebel is a
fiery thang, ain’t she?”

Thorne’s lashes fluttered as she processed the fact that
Antonia did know about her niece. “Why would she confide in you and not me or
Amy?”

Antonia leaned forward, his hand taking Thorne’s into his
own. “Your parents were devout Catholics and thought the town would shun Maggie
if they knew she was an unwed mother. They lived in the past, like they were in
the fifties. Maggie wanted to tell Romeo and her family. Your parents told
Stone and Gail because they wanted them to support the child in Romeo’s place.
And they did. That little girl has never wanted for anything. She told me
because I am Rebel’s godparent. I was supposed to get custody of Rebel at her
death, but I refused and turned custody over to Romeo. That man needs stability
in his life, and well, I’m too much of a whore right now to take care of a
child. I admit that. Plus, it’s not fair to keep his child from him, nor from
the only part of her mother that is left alive.”

Thorne took in a deep breath, extracting her hand from under
Antonia’s. “Is there anything sacred anymore with Maggie? Any more secrets I
need to know about?”

“Not that I know of, doll. If you’re going to be mad at
anyone, it should be your parents. It was their wish to keep her hidden. They
were ashamed of it, of the fact that Maggie got herself into that sort of
situation. It was out of Maggie’s control.”

Thorne slumped back into the booth, rubbing the heels of her
palms into her eyes, praying the pressure would alleviate the headache she was
getting. “This is some seriously whacked out Jerry Springer shit, Antonia.”

Antonia snickered and took a drink of his coffee. “I was
thinking more along the lines of Maury, unless you plan on going ghetto on
someone.”

“I already did that. Might have started a domino effect that
has really pissed Romeo off.”

He shook his head, “Mmm, girl. What did you do now?”

“I kinda beat the shit out of the rival club’s president’s
daughter, who is Dalton’s ex.”

Antonia’s eyes grew wide, his mouth forming a large O as he
stared at Thorne. “How bad?”

Thorne ducked her face behind her napkin, then peeked over
the edge of it. “Plastic surgery will be involved.”

“Oh shit.” Antonia breathed out, leaning closer toward
Thorne, his voice dropping to a whisper. “What’s going to happen?”

Thorne leaned closer to match the whisper with her own.
“Romeo’s afraid I started a war. But the bitch deserved it. She laughed at what
they did to Maggie, bragged about it.”

“You’re nicer than I am then. I’d have killed the bitch
where she stood.”

Thorne offered a sad smile with a small shake of her head.
“I wanted to, Antonia. I really did. I wanted to grab Dalton’s gun and shoot
her right between the eyes. But that’s not who I am. I save lives not take
them.”

“There’s a time and a place for everything, Thorne. That
bitch will get hers. You just helped her along the way and gave her a taste of
her own medicine. I hope for the club’s sake that they don’t retaliate.”