Where Souls Spoil (92 page)

He pulls away and pecks at my lips as he whispers, “You have beer.”

“Not important,” I whisper back and peck at his lips.

He kisses me again and nibbles at my bottom lip with teeth. With ragged breath, he pulls back and says, “Shut it.”

“Excuse me?” I ask him between pecks.

“You’re ruining”—peck—“this for me.”

“What?” I nip at his lower lip.

“Talking,” he says and kisses me in a much less chaste manner. His tongue slides between my lips. My thighs clench around his legs, and it’s getting harder to breathe. I just want to kiss him until I’m numb everywhere. I choose to ignore his comment even though he was the one who started talking first. He can win that battle because I’m about to win the war.

“Who do I belong to?” I whisper as I pull back from his lips. He sucks in a ragged breath, and his cheeks are flushed.

“Me,” he says and leans in to kiss me again. I lean backward and shake my head.

“And who do you belong to?”

He smiles wide. “I belong to you.”

“Don’t forget that,” I say and smash my lips against his.

I’m finally letting myself believe that this might work out between us when I realize that we have company, and I pull away. Ryan is like a spider, the way he sneaks up on people. It’s like, you may not have proof that he’s in the room, but you just know he’s there. Watching and judging and plotting. And then you see him, and all your suspicions are confirmed.

He stands in the corner of the room near the entrance from the main room. A satisfied smirks plays at his lips, and his gray eyes are clearly amused. He’s an odd one, and he’s only getting worse as he ages. Back when Dad and Uncle Jim would ditch me in his and Ian’s care, he wasn’t so bad. Well, maybe he was, but Ian kept him in line. Ryan has always kind of been like the aloof big brother that I never asked for, never wanted, and tried to get rid of. But I wouldn’t want to get rid of him now. He’s grown on me.

“Shouldn’t be doing that. Miss Priss is just a baby,” Ryan says.

Asshole.

“At least he’s my age. Your girlfriend is practically still in high school.”

“Wishin’ we hooked up?” he asks while pointing at himself.

I roll my eyes and wave him away. “Hell no. Don’t you have someone else to irritate?”

A smirk covers Ryan’s face. As far back as I can remember he’s had a ridiculously huge ego. On his way out, he says in a mocking voice, “ ‘Who do you belong to?’ ‘Oh, you Cheyenne Grady, I belong to you. I got no fucking balls, and I’m a total pussy. My name is Jeremy Whelan, and my favorite thing to do is to suck Ryan’s dick.’ ” His laughter trails behind him as he leaves.

“He really lets you talk to him like that?” Jeremy asks in surprise while trying his best to ignore the goading.

“What is he going to do about it?” I’m careful never to embarrass or disrespect Ryan in front of his peers, so I don’t see why he would get pissy about the stuff I say privately. Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. “Plus, he’s obsessed with himself and probably doesn’t hear a word I say anyway.”

“I heard
that
.” He gives Jeremy that head nod and says, “We got Church, and you got clean-up duty in the shop.”

“I’m going,” Jeremy says and takes a step back. He mouths, “
I’m sorry
,” and walks away without another word.

Ryan stands with his arms folded and looking at me with the most serious expression I’ve seen on his face in a while. “He good to you?”

I shrug my shoulders and give him a smile. “I don’t know yet.”

“He’s not, you tell me.”

“Thanks,” I say softly, touched by his kind gesture.

“His sister sucks dick like her life depends on it. Always wanted to see if Baby Boy can do the same.”

“Oh my God, what the fuck,” I say in shock.

Ryan gives me a wink and walks off. I sit there for a few moments before pulling out my cell and texting Alex.

UR BF WANTS JER 2 SUCK HIS DICK.

She responds immediately. HE’S A CHILD. IGNORE HIM.

NOT THAT EASY, I text back.

I’LL GIVE U TIPS. I can’t help but chuckle at her response.

Everything is working out really well now. I mean, I know I’m letting myself get caught up in the excitement of a new relationship, but it’s ridiculous how much things can change in just a few minutes. I’ve barely had him, but already I know that it would break my heart to lose him. Everything is working out except for my investigation. That’s still at a standstill. I grab my beer and take another drink. It’s not as cold now and tastes even worse, but I power through it.

I wish I had access to more club business than I do. It’s just hard because Dad doesn’t like paper trails, so he only has what he absolutely needs to have. The clubhouse gets loud as the men all trail in for Church. One deep voice barking orders after another fills the space, making it feel much smaller. When their voices fade, I can only assume they’re in the chapel now. If only I could be in there with them.

I hop off the pool table, and I grab my phone out of my pocket again and send Alex another text. NOBODY TELLS ME NETHNG.

THEY NEVER WILL, she says back. I’m trying to fish for information on how to get further in my investigation, but she didn’t really bite. Maybe I just need to be more upfront.

I NEED INFO, I say and pray she doesn’t tell her sadistic guard dog.

DANGEROUS, she says back.

I KNOW. MY CHOICE. NEED TO KNOW.

PAY BETTER ATTN, she says. NO MORE TIPS. TROUBLE.

Gah, she isn’t freaking helping me at all. I read her last few texts again and blow out a frustrated breath. The guys are all sitting around the chapel and talking about stuff I could really use to help Holly and Mindy. It’s not fair. I just want to help, and nobody is making that feat any easier on me.

Pay better attention
, she said. I think on that for a minute. Maybe that’s her way of helping? I think back on what she told me about getting in trouble for listening to her father’s business. Scrolling up, I find the text and eye it until the idea comes to me.

They’re in Church, down the hallway, discussing club business.

Club business I could use.

If they catch me, I’m in some serious trouble. I take a sip of my beer and set it down. Freaking gross. I don’t think I’m ever going to like that crap. I nervously tap my foot and think it over.

I’m still thinking it over as I walk into the main room. I’m certain this is a horrible idea as I make sure no one’s around and turn the corner down the hallway. My hands shake. I shouldn’t be doing this, but I crouch as silently as possible in front of the double doors to the chapel anyway. I press my ear to the left door and close my eyes, doing my best not to bump into the wood.

“Jennings is awake and recovering,” Dad says. His voice barely makes it through the thick wooden doors. There’s a few displeased rumbles from around the room and some cursing. “Apparently, since FBPD doesn’t have any solid enough leads to arrest anyone, they kept the asswipe’s progress quiet to keep him safe.”

“Why the fuck didn’t we know about this sooner?” Wyatt snaps.

“Gonzales was taken off the case,” Dad says.

“That asshole Mercer?” Wyatt asks, referring to Lieutenant Harry Mercer, who is Holly’s uncle and Mindy’s dad. “I’m fucking sick of that prick.”

The room is quiet for half a minute before Jim pipes in. “Mercer complicates shit, but he’s a friend to the club.”

Damn straight he is, Uncle Jim! I can’t say I have any personal positive stories about Harry Mercer, but Holly loves him, and he’s been fiercely protective of Mindy since her attack. Dad says he can respect a man who guards his kid like Harry’s been doing. The club barely got to see Mindy after she was released from the hospital, and even then, it was a short visit. I managed to get it out of Holly that she was allowed more time with Mindy but that Harry thought it was enough for the day when he and Ian had some words. But that was a while ago. Nobody’s said a word about Mindy in weeks, and it’s starting to worry me. Out of nowhere, a hand wraps around my face and seizes my mouth, clamping down and suppressing my scream. My stomach lurches, my heart beats frantically, and I desperately try to breathe, but the hand not only covers my mouth but my nostrils as well. Before I can kick at the door to signal someone that I’m in trouble, I’m dragged backward down the hall as my lungs fight for air.

CHAPTER 18

February

14 months to Mancuso’s downfall

I kick my
feet in the air in a pathetic attempt to free myself but can’t make contact with anything. The hand at my mouth moves slightly, allowing me to suck in a ragged breath through my nostrils. I’m assaulted by a familiar masculine musk that I know all too well. My body relaxes instantly as it recognizes his scent. It takes my mind an extra moment to realize who it is.

Jeremy.

Shit. This is so not good, but I guess being busted by the brand-new boyfriend is better than being busted by anyone else. Snooping on Church won’t just get me grounded. It’ll get me in hot water at a club level. I knew I was asking for trouble when I walked down that hallway. I knew the risk and decided it was worth it. But now, after having gotten very little information, I regret my choice. Knowing that Darren is awake and recovering doesn’t do much to help me. I mean, I guess I
could
go talk to him. But then I risk exposing myself if he’s not cooperative. Either way, I fucking blew it. I can’t take another chance to listen in on Church.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” he whispers in my ear. His hand slides away from my mouth. I take a deep breath and let myself feel the stress of the situation. I’m still hauled up in his arms. There’s a creak as he walks us through the now open door.
The palace.
I hate this room.

Once inside, he sets me on my feet and reaches past me to close the door. I don’t dare turn around for fear of seeing the angry look on his face. I’m trying really hard, as I take one deep breath after another, to not act like the baby that everybody still thinks I am. I’m an adult, and I can accept responsibility for the things I’ve done—but that doesn’t mean it won’t suck to be yelled at.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he hisses in my ear. The pure disgust in his voice makes my stomach churn.

The tension in the room is so thick it’s uncomfortable. Too thick. I fold my arms over my chest and focus on the doorknob in front of me. If I thought he was mad the last time he caught me somewhere I shouldn’t have been, then I was dead wrong.

The clanking of metal objects sounds behind me, and a child’s voice whispers something inaudible. I spin around to find Chel and her son, Xavier, on one of the long couches. Xavier has a pair of toy metal motorcycles in his hands that he’s clanking together in his lap. He’s still little, just barely three. He’s got naturally tanned skin and jet-black hair. His brown eyes shine as they land on me. He smiles wide and waves a motorcycle at me. I like the kid well enough. He’s always been easy when I’ve babysat him, and until last month, his mom was always good to me. Not that she knows she did it, but girl did me wrong.

My attention redirects to Chel, who has a textbook in her lap. She’s nervously tapping a pencil on a notebook that hangs off the side of her textbook. She’s studying to be a nurse, and I’ll give her credit for that, but for the time being, she’s just a whore. I let my inner bitch rage and think over the fact that I’ve never heard her give mention of Xavier’s father—that is assuming she knows who that even is.

Chel gives me a tentative smile that falls the longer I look at her. I turn my attention to the wall of mirrors to my side. The expression on my face is clear as day. I’m not happy. My mouth is turned down in the corners, and my eyes are narrowed. My jaw is set in a hard line, and my nostrils are flaring just like my dad’s do when he’s mad. Seeing a miniature female Sterling in the mirror is almost enough for me to force a fake smile to my face.
Almost
.

“Everything okay, Jer?” Chel asks. Her eyes shift to Jeremy, which just raises my hackles even more.

“Why are you asking him and not me?” I snap. She shrinks back, clearly taken aback by my response. She and I have never had a problem before now.

Jeremy wraps a hand around my upper arm and softly tugs me backward as he whispers, “We can talk elsewhere.” Though his voice is soft and he’s speaking quietly, I can feel the tension in his hand as he guides me out of the palace and down the hallway. He grabs my pink helmet from the table near the front door where I left it after Dad escorted me here. He doesn’t trust my car to get me anywhere safely now thanks to Jeremy’s lie.

Even out of the clubhouse, Jeremy’s still frustrated as all get out. He leads me to his bike, throws a leg over, and crooks his index finger at me. I affix my helmet to my head just as he does his own. We’re staring each other down like our lives depend on this eye contact.

As rebellious as I’m prone to be, even I know not to argue in this moment. Without a single word, I climb onto the rumbling bike, place my feet on the foot rests and wrap my arms around his midsection. He signals to Dunce, a prospect who’s been absent as of late, as he opens the gate for us, and we take off through the Forsaken Custom Cycle lot and down Main Street. The wet ground is slick beneath the tires of the bike. It’s been raining here fairly regularly the last few weeks—and thank goodness, too—but it seems like folks forget how to function in the first rain of the season. It could be three weeks without any rain, and the first rain is always the most dangerous. I never understood why until this moment.

Time has a way of making us forget the danger and the pain. I was so angry with Jeremy right after our date and then just disappointed when he never made the attempt to apologize. Then at the school, and with Tracie, and at the Jennings’ house a few weeks ago... after everything, I still like the feel of wrapping my arms around him. I like having my face pressed into his cut. I like his smell and his smile. I love his eyes, and I’m becoming quickly addicted to his bossy nature. But it’s a slippery slope, because the wounds are still so fresh and I’m not the best at letting things go. Chel didn’t technically do anything to hurt me, even if her actions did end up causing me pain. And I know how it is with the Lost Girls, so I really shouldn’t be surprised. Still, it’s going to take a while for me to be mature enough to not hate her.

But I’ve seen her fucking vagina, and if I could see it clear enough from where I stood, then Jeremy definitely got a good peep show. And that just pisses me off to no end.

“Stop it,” Jeremy shouts from in front of me. One of his hands leave the handlebars as he swats at my hands on his abdomen. We swerve slightly before he corrects us, now with both hands on the handlebars. I should be frightened since he’s only been riding since summer, but for some reason I trust him. Maybe not totally with my heart, but definitely with my life.

It’s only now that I realize that the more I think about Chel, the harder I dig my nails into his flesh. I retract my claws and close my eyes and enjoy the ride. As an apology, I trace small circles over the place I was scratching him. We slow down as the road gets bumpy, and the salty tang of the air grows stronger. Opening my eyes, I see we’re at the beach.

Jeremy cuts the bike off and pushes down her kickstand. I reluctantly let him go and push myself off the bike and onto the sandy concrete. He climbs down, and we remove our helmets and rest them on the seat side by side. There’s barely enough room for both of them, but he makes them fit. When he turns toward me, he looks down at my thin cotton long-sleeve and shakes his head. I didn’t think to grab a jacket before he dragged me out of the clubhouse, not that he gave me the opportunity to think about how cold I’d be. I didn’t even know where we were headed. He shrugs off his cut and hands it to me. I take the leather in my hands and marvel at the weight of it. I always forget how heavy they are until I’m holding one. It’s substantial, that’s for sure. It doesn’t weigh quite as much as my dad’s, but I’m guessing that’s partially because it’s maybe a size smaller and doesn’t have as many patches on it as Dad’s does. It will, though. One day Jeremy will have his top rocker and maybe even a few more patches. The only patch I don’t want him to collect is a memory patch, because that means he’s lost a brother.

“You’ll be cold,” I say as I realize he’s unzipping his Forsaken hoodie and handing it to me. He shakes his head and reaches out with both hands. Grabbing his cut, he shoves the hoodie in my face again, so I take it. Slipping the hoodie on, I bask in his scent and the size of the item. I curl the ends of the sleeves around my closed fists and huddle in when the winter wind picks up.

“I like seeing you in that,” he says with a nod.

“I like wearing it.” As awkward as I am, I’m not totally understanding exactly what he’s saying. Does he like seeing me in Forsaken stuff or
his
stuff?

It doesn’t matter, I realize. Because we’re here together, and he’s being sweet. He takes my hand and leads me off the concrete lot and down the jagged shoreline to Glass Beach. It’s a gorgeous spot, really. Millions of little shards of glass have shored up here, morphing and chiseling themselves into beautiful rocks that look like priceless stones. Individually, they’re pretty enough, but all together as they blanket the shoreline, they’re incredible.

He walks us to a spot that’s fairly dry and sits down. He leans up against a flat rock and motions for me to come to him. I lean down and go to sit beside him, but he reaches out and pulls me into his lap. I screech and laugh at the sudden change in direction, then settle in. Even though I know his good mood won’t last, I want to enjoy this calm before the storm.

“Warmer?” he asks. I nod my head, not wanting to speak. Anything I say is going to ruin the moment, I just know it. “Good, so now maybe you can fucking explain what you were doing listening in at the chapel while Church is in session.”

“Are you going to yell?” I ask quietly. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close to him. “Because quite frankly I’d rather just sit here and cuddle if talking leads to yelling.”

“I got reason to yell,” he says.

I squirm in his lap and get comfortable, then place my head on his shoulder. “I still have to find out why Mindy and Holly were attacked.”

“Club business, babe. How many times do I got to explain that shit?”

“Don’t give me that crap.” I sound like a petulant child, but I can’t help it. “I’m doing what I have to do.”

“I told you that I’d keep you safe,” he says in a rather unkind and sterile voice. I don’t want to lose soft Jeremy, but at least this is a Jeremy I can fight with.

“Dad said the same thing about Holly,” I say. “He swore she was safe and nothing bad would happen to her, but something bad
did
happen. Leo Scavo raped Mindy and forced Holly to watch. He probably hurt Darren Jennings, too. At least he’s getting better and can maybe tell someone what happened.”

“Wait,” he says in a firm voice that silences my whining. “I don’t even want to know how you know that name, but before you keep running your mouth, let me school you on something. I’m sure Scavo’s done a lot of fucked up shit in his life, but one thing he did not do is rape Mindy.”

“But you guys talk about finding him and how he’s so awful. He showed up at the—”

He tightens his grip around me and shushes me into silence. “Jennings,” he says. “That asshole is no fucking good. He’s not a goddamn victim.”

Nothing makes sense, and suddenly the last several weeks of my life feel like a total waste. How in the hell is Darren
not
a victim? He’s been in the hospital since the end of summer.

“Nic dated him back in high school. I didn’t fucking realize what was going on. Right under my fucking nose. That asshole made her feel like shit. I think I knew something wasn’t right, but I never really paid any attention. Nic’s a tough bitch. She doesn’t need no sympathy or help or nothing. She’s always able to take care of herself.”