BRICK
HJ Bellus
Kathy Coopmans
Contents
Prologue
1. Eden
2. Brick
3. Eden
4. Eden
5. Brick
6. Eden
7. Brick
8. Eden
9. Brick
10. Eden
11. Brick
12. Eden
13. Brick
14. Brick
15. Eden
16. Brick
17. Brick
18. Brick
19. Eden
20. Brick
21. Eden
22. Katch Sterling
23. Eden
Epilogue
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Brick
Copyright © 2017 by Torrid Timbre Press
Edited by: Julia Goda
Cover Designer: Just Write Creations
Photographer: Battershell Photography/Eric Battershell
Model: Alex Boivin
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
My partner left the dedication to me this time.
Heidi, this is for you!
Prologue
Brick
“She’s still not answering her phone. I’m worried.” My very pregnant sister-in-law Amelia waddles out on the deck, gives my brother those sad eyes that dare him to challenge her. He won’t. Fucker is whipped. Ball and motherfucking chain wrapped right around his dick.
Zoe was supposed to be here two hours ago for dinner. Another no-show. No call. No nothing. I should go over there and tell her to knock her shit off. Scare the piss out of her with words. She’s twisting Amelia up, who doesn’t need to be worrying about anyone else except herself and the baby.
If Amelia’s stomach gets any bigger, my brother won’t be plucking her cute little ass up outta her chair like he is now to sit down on his lap much longer, because if he does, they’ll both be yelling for help to get themselves off the ground. Amelia is huge and glowing. Even with the sad scowl on her face.
I hold in a laugh as I tip my beer back, my eyes checking out my brother. His sappy ass is always taking the world by the tail and going after what he wants. Bastard. No, make that fucking bastard. I love the guy, though. Regardless if he’s a pain in my ass at times. He’s one of the good guys in this world. Sincere, and that right there makes him the best brother I could ask for.
My main concern right now though isn’t Zoe. It’s the fact that Amelia is frowning when she should be smiling. My brother is irritated when he should be taking care of his wife. Fucking pansy ass over there rubbing the back of his neck like some fucking romance hero. Get your hands on your woman’s neck! Asshole. Rub her down. Her feet are red, swollen and from where I’m sitting they look to be on fire.
Damn. Listen to me thinking all sappy and shit.
The shit her pregnancy has done to her body creeps me the fuck out the more I look at her swollen belly. It doesn't have a thing to do with her being bigger every time I see her. I ain’t never seen anything so cute in my life. It’s her swollen legs, always being tired, snippy, and peeing all the time. That shit would wear me the fuck out.
I’m a cold-stoned dickhead for thinking that way. I can’t seem to help it. The way her body has been stretching like a piece of elastic adjusting to the life inside of her freaks me out even more. I guess it’s Zeke’s medical training that keeps him calm, because I’d be raising hell. I can’t even fathom there’s a human inside her body. My blood. A niece, or nephew. Hot fucking damn. I’m about to be an uncle. Bring it the hell on. Even a heartless son-of-a-bitch man like me can’t wait to spoil my brother’s kid.
Zeke lifts his head, his gaze snapping defensively to mine.
What the hell?
“Maybe she was called into work. Maybe her son is sick. You never know when it comes to Zoe. Quit worrying. She’ll call. She always does.” Not sure who he’s trying to convince; we all know Amelia won’t stop her worrying. It’s her nature. She’s going to be one damn good mother. Makes me grateful as hell to her. So strong. Zeke struck gold with her. He knows it, too. Lucky fucker.
Christ, the way he enables the bullshitting stories Zoe comes up with is enough to make me ill. A fucking spade is a spade, and why not call it out? She ain’t going to call until that dick of a boyfriend lets her. We all know it, and yet here we sit not doing a damn thing about it. And the coward award goes to? I grip the back of my neck in the same way my brother did, trying to release the tension. It’s not working one bit, might, though, if I were squeezing the back of Zoe’s boyfriend's neck. If given a chance, I’ll snap it in half.
Zoe did shit to me I’ve never admitted to anyone. I wanted her from the first day I saw her. Thought she was a spitfire full of life.
Then she started to change, putting on a false smokescreen whenever she came around. I ignored her erratic behavior because the woman is hot. Went on with my life even though my gut kept on telling me something with her wasn’t right.
My fingertips hungered to sink into her hips and pull that hair as I was pounding into her from behind. It was wrong, all fucking wrong to want someone so sweet and kind. But it seems that’s been the motto of my life since day one. I’m on the outlaw side always thirsty for the black, and not the right ways of life. Ain’t never going to change, but it sure as hell would be nice to have some kind of light in my life. Now I’m really acting like my brother.
Zoe is a basket case. She’s strung higher than a kite. Walks around on pins and needles and needs to dump her pissant excuse of a boyfriend. He’s a dick. A low-life soul-sucking jobless weasel who needs his ass kicked. Lazy-ass motherfucker. If she were to get rid of him, then the true Zoe would shine bright. I know it would.
“Let me help you relax, Bluebird.” Zeke lifts Amelia off his lap, stands, places her back on the lounger, and starts to rub her feet. Fucker can read my mind. I oughta pat him on the back or award him a fuzzy, warm-ass feeling shit award.
I feel a twinge of jealousy rocket through my veins. Goddamn, love is all around me. Every fucking where. Zoe could have been it. Even though I knew it wouldn’t happen, I wanted her to be mine, until she walked into Zeke’s backyard with her boyfriend and son. My jaw never fucking drops. I’ve seen and done shit that would escort most to the grave keeper. But seeing that beauty waltz in and learn she’s been brain fucked by a piece of shit nearly took me out at the knees.
She has a kid. A perfect little boy who’s courageous and everything I was once. He has her eyes and carefree laughter, but it was Ricky, whose arm she was on, who made my blood fucking boil. My armor firmly strapped on to stand next to my brother on the most important day of his life, but all I hungered for was to slit that weasel’s throat. He’s hiding something from her. Something big. I know his kind. Slimy like a snake hiding in the grass just ready to strike.
Funny how the woman I thought I wanted was pulling off the grandest ruse of all when I’m left in my tattooed and muscular stature wearing my scars on my motherfucking sleeves. I hate it when people hide shit. Zoe is hiding a hell of a lot of it, right along with her man. While he’s hiding something dangerous, she’s hiding behind him. If I ever find out my suspicions about him are true, I’ll slice his dick off and shove it clear up his fucking ass.
“Saxon.” The familiar baritone voice of my brother drifts through my delusional thoughts. “Saxon, are you fucking hearing me?” No. I’m over here daydreaming about killing someone, asshole.
Zeke’s hands are now firmly wrapped around his wife’s feet. He’s rubbing them like he’s expecting a happy ending. I can’t bust his balls too much because I know all the medical shit that could go wrong is rampant in the back of his mind. I’ve never been prouder of Zeke than I am right now. He discovered something he needed to survive and never let go of it. Fuck, it wasn’t a gray area with Amelia and Zeke; it was black and white boundaries that no one should cross. But my champion, my brother ignored all of it. Fought it hard and beat those damn odds in the head.
“Yo.” I swallow back the remnants of my third beer. I need a lot stiffer shit than this to get me through this evening and chat about Zoe. If she shows.
“Saxon, could you please go over to her house?” Amelia pleads with her aqua eyes pouring out to my soul. Shit.
“And I know you already know where she lives.” Yup. I sure do. I toss the glass bottle into the near trashcan, listening to the glass pieces shatter.
Bingo! There’s Brick, the sometimes lovable, charming but mostly dickhead piece of shit.
“Saxon, please.”
It’s those two final words that jolt me into action. There are a handful of people who I’d sacrifice everything for. It so happens that Zeke and Amelia fit into that puzzle along with Katch, Caitlin, and Prez, Curtis, and the Hell’s Lovers MC.
“Fuck.” I push off the bar and stand upright. “Whatever, Bluebird.”
The veins in Zeke’s neck muscle tense and pulse. I shouldn’t be an asshole right now; these two have been to hell and back a few times. They need a slice of heaven, not this worrying shit.
“Fine. I’m going. I’ll call you in a bit.” I walk into the house, take a piss, and hit the road on my bike.
“That bastard better not be there. Low-life using, lazy fuck,” I holler out into the night, hit the highway, and park my bike a few houses down the street from her cute little house fifteen minutes later.
“Jesus Christ, every damn light is on in the place,” I grumble as I make my way up the darkened drive.
“Why the hell do I torture myself like this when it comes to her?” Maybe I should stomp my ass in there. Lay the fucker out and run off with her and the kid. It isn’t like I don’t know how to treat a lady right. I do. Just haven’t found one worth treating as mine, is all.
My boots hit the deck and halt me. “The fuck.” The door is slightly ajar. Weird, I think to myself but push it open anyway. Just another sign of this arrogant dickhead and how he treats his woman and child. I know better than anyone about the monsters that are hiding in this fucking city. They’re relentless, invisible, and out to hurt anyone in their way. The kid could run right out. Be gone before anyone knows it.
“Zoe.” I take a step into the house and freeze. The irony why the driveway was blackened out isn’t lost on me.
It’s the familiar metallic smell that slaps me in the face first.
The need to get away without anyone noticing.
Death.
“Zoe,” I holler louder. No response. I take two steps further. My stomach knotting. Something isn’t right here. This isn't good. “Goddammit, where are you?”
Panic sets in as the full picture appears in my view. I place my hands on top of my head and squeeze to a near painful point. This cannot be fucking happening.
Zoe’s lifeless, mangled body lying in her own pool of blood. Her once vibrant eyes cold and dead. I watch all my sins play out in front of me. I kill without thought or remorse, and maybe this is my punishment.
1
Eden
My phone continues to ring on my nightstand with an unknown number. I ignore it for the tenth time and stare at the screen on my laptop.
The words are slapping me across the face as I continue to read. Hard. The sting bitter.
“Oh, Zoe.” I sigh and wipe away the tears streaming down my cheeks.
My heart has been rapidly beating for months out of worry over my baby sister and her four-year-old son, Wilder. And wild he is. The cute little jet-black-haired nephew of mine is strung tighter than my sister is. God, I love that kid.
I take another sip of my water. Wishing for it to be something stronger, preferably wine. I’m on call at the hospital tonight, so water it is for the rest of the weekend.
I place the bottle on the stand next to my phone. Zoom in on the article I’m reading. My eyes are burning because I know Zoe is showing all the signs of an abused woman. I’ve suspected for over a year now. Talked to her, tried to convince her to leave. I’ve begged, pleaded, and even threatened to turn both her and Ricky in to Child Protective Services if she didn’t pack her shit up and leave him. She keeps on denying it. Lies. So many of them I don’t know what to believe anymore. But this, I know it’s true. I know with everything inside of me he smacks her around. The controlling little prick.
She won’t listen, and now our relationship is becoming more estranged every single day. That is the hardest fact to swallow.
It’s been Eden and Zoe since I can remember my mother bringing her home from the hospital all wrapped in a tight little pink bundle of joy.
Zoe and I have different fathers. I’ve never met my biological father, but although Marley Ashton’s blood wasn’t running through my veins, he never treated me differently. He came crashing into our lives like the wild and crazy hippy he was. Turned our mother into a free spirit right along with him. They were proud of us. Unconditional love to the fullest.
Wilder is named after him. Zoe couldn’t have chosen a better name. God, Dad would have loved him. He would have killed Ricky, too. Of that, I have no doubt.
They hit the road to follow their wild souls the day Zoe turned eighteen. They never wanted to influence our decisions in life. They were always there supporting us. Calling us all hours of the day and night. Listening and guiding us through life from miles away.
Until the day they died. Hit head-on by a semi on their way back out into the world after coming home to watch Zoe graduate from nursing school. It shattered us both. Devastated. Numb.
God, just thinking about it breaks me all over again.
Pain digs her ugly claws in my chest. The pills of fear, guilt, and anguish are the toughest ones for me to swallow. I’m scared out of my mind he’s going to hurt her in a way she will never be able to recover from. Or Wilder. What if Ricky becomes so angry he goes after him? I’m at my wit’s end with this.
I’m hurting. Zoe is hurting, and yet she won’t leave.
She knows they could move in with me in a heartbeat. One call is all it would take, and I’d have the cops over there with me to get them out. Her boss, Rowan, would help, too. Even Zeke and Amelia.
It would be nice to let one of my fellow doctors and patients know I’m Zoe’s sister, too. Why she begged me not to tell them when they all became friends, I’ll never know. Deep in my gut, I know Zoe has been fighting to create a blank canvas for herself. She has the courage to break the bonds of her prison but just won’t take the leap. And I have no idea why. It took me a year to get her on medication to help ease her ADHD, but then that fucking slime, Ricky, came into her life. He’s ruining everything she’s worked hard to accomplish. He’s draining her. I can see it escaping behind her eyes.
And yet, as I sit here reading how women lose their lack of confidence, self-respect and feel unworthy, I’ve figured out why. She’s afraid I’ll tell her friends, her co-workers. She’s ashamed when what she should be doing is reaching out for help. My baby sister has nothing to be ashamed of. She’s trapped, and I need to guide her out.
“God, Zoe. Why?” I cry. My eyes are blurring from the images my brain is producing of that son of a bitch putting his hands on my sister.
My phone rings again. I Lived by OneRepublic blaring out of the tiny device. This time, I reach for it without
even looking. It’s the ringtone for the hospital.
“Doctor Parker,” I strongly voice when I all I want to do is hang up and bawl my eyes out.
“You better be on your way. My wife’s water broke. She’s four weeks early. I don’t want anyone else delivering my child.” For a man who is hopelessly in love with his wife and about to be a father for the first time, he doesn’t sound happy. Zeke is distraught.
It’s not a funny situation at all, but I find myself biting back a giggle. Dr. Hartley is the smartest man I’ve ever been around. His medical knowledge is powerful. Not to mention his ability to keep calm in desperate situations and his ability to diagnose rare illnesses. So, him speaking all crazy has me hoping everything is alright.
“They’ll both be fine, Dr. Hartley. You should know this. Is everything alright? Did something happen?” I just saw Amelia the day before yesterday. Everything was fine. Her measurements were perfect. The baby moved down. However, her cervix wasn’t thinning. She wasn’t even close to being ready to deliver.
“Yeah, something did happen. Now’s not the time to talk about it. I can tell you afterward. Just get here; she’s upset and stressed. The contractions are getting closer.” I don’t like the scared tone in his voice. I slip on my shoes, grab my purse, which is more like a weighed-down backpack, and lock the door behind me.
“Doing my best here, Eden.”
I climb in my car, buckle up, and start the engine, pull out of the garage and tear down the road before I speak again. Hoping these few seconds will get him to calm down.
BRICK Page 1