by Bella Jewel
“Why’d you do that?” he asks me, as he walks over to my closet and gets a clean pair of sheets out and begins making my bed.
“I’ve just had enough. She taunts me all the time. She’s so mean to me. She makes me feel silly in front of all my friends. She’s a mean girl.”
“Tonight, you were a mean girl, too.”
His words are like a slap in the face. He looks over to me, and then exhales and walks over, pointing to the bed where he orders me to sit. I do as he asks, sitting down and crossing my arms. This doesn’t seem to bother him, and he begins to speak to me in a low, calm voice.
“I know you’ve had enough, and I understand that. But doin’ what you did tonight only made you as bad as her. When I said stand up for yourself, I didn’t mean drop down to her level. You’re better than that, Briella. You’re not like her. You don’t have to be like her to make a point.”
“She won’t leave me alone,” I half whine, to which he raises his brows and gives me a small smile.
“You’re a warrior, you know how I know that?”
I shake my head, still keeping my arms crossed.
“Because you’ve been through a lot, and you’re still fighting. You still wake up each day with a smile. You still help other people. You’re a strong girl, the strongest I know. A woman like Sissy, she will never be a match to you. You have to know that.”
I stare at him and whisper, “She just hates me so much. I’m tired of it.”
“Then you learn how to deal with it in the right way. What you did tonight wasn’t right, it was wrong, and I know you don’t feel good about it.”
He’s right, I don’t.
I hang my head and say, “I don’t. I just got so angry ...”
“Learn to control that anger. It’s the only way you’ll ever get through life.”
I exhale. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.”
I stand and growl, “I’m not saying sorry to her.”
He stands and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Remember what I said about you being a better woman than her? Don’t let me down, Briella. You know what the right thing is.”
Dammit.
Why does he do this to me?
Always make me think about what I’m doing.
Sometimes I want to be a brat.
Sometimes I just want to fight back.
But he’s right.
I’m not that person.
“I’ll say sorry,” I mumble.
“Good.”
He walks toward the door and looks back at me before saying, “I know my sister can be a pain in the ass, but she will grow out of it one day. You just have to hang in there.”
“Flick?” I ask, just before he steps out.
He glances back.
“Do you see me as your sister, too?”
His eyes flicker with something I’ve never seen before and in a low, very deep voice he says to me, “God no. You’re something far better to me.”
Then he’s gone.
Leaving me wondering, as always, what he means.
I guess I’ll have to figure it out on my own.
After I apologize to Sissy.
6
NOW – BRIELLA
“I found Brock,” Karen tells me, walking through Cohen’s front door like she owns the place.
I guess she’s rather familiar with it, considering she has been on and off with Alarick for a while. He spends a good deal of time here when he’s not at the club, so it makes sense that she would feel like she can just walk in.
I put down the cup I just finished drying and walk around the kitchen counter, stopping in front of her. “You did?”
“Yep. My friend had his number, and I managed to track him down. I know where he works. Do you want to go and check it out?”
I grab my purse and phone. “Yes. I am getting more and more anxious as the days go by. I really need to know where Magnolia is."
“Let’s do this.”
We both walk out, and I lock up with the spare key Cohen gave me. He’s been super kind to me, even though I’ve only been here a couple of days, and it means a lot. He doesn’t have to be, nobody does, I mean I did disappear and leave them all like they mattered little to me.
I think about the other guys in the club, and I make it my mission to go and see them later this afternoon. Screw Alarick, I’m not going to avoid seeing those guys; they’re as much my family as they are his. I spent as much time at that club growing up as he did. King might be gone, and my mom might not be here, but I know that place is part of who I am now.
Those guys are my family.
I owe them a visit.
“Where does Brock work?” I ask Karen as we get into her car and set out to find my sister’s mysterious boyfriend.
We arrive at a warehouse about ten minutes out of town. It’s old and run down, surrounded by thick trees and cars that are now growing their own bushes they’ve been left so long. Other than a few newer cars parked by the door, you’d think this place was abandoned. What the hell are they doing in there? It doesn’t look like a functional workplace.
“Are you sure this is it?” I ask Karen, narrowing my eyes and leaning forward to get a better look.
“Apparently it’s like a packing company or something. Oh, look, there on the sign.”
“Brock’s Packing,” I murmur. “How original.”
The sign is old, rusted, and hanging by only one hook. Whatever Brock is packing in there, he’s not making a hell of a lot of money out of it because my god, I’d never come here for anything. Ever.
We get out of the car and walk toward the warehouse door, which is only small in comparison to the large building. I take the handle, feeling more than icky, and push it open, stepping inside. The inside is surprisingly clean and tidy, not at all what the outside looks like. There are rows and rows of boxes, a few trucks and a small desk at the front where a woman is doing something on a computer.
We walk over and she looks up when she notices us. She reaches for her glasses atop her head and pulls them down over her eyes before saying, “Can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m looking for Brock. Is he here?”
She nods. “Yes, he is. Do you have an appointment with him?”
To discuss what? The type of tape he uses? How big his boxes are? It’s a packing warehouse, what exactly would I need to book an appointment for?
“No. I just wanted to have a quick word.”
“What’s your name?” she asks, standing.
“Briella.”
She nods and tells us to take a seat before disappearing into the sea of boxes to find Brock. I look to Karen and murmur, “This place is super weird.”
“Right?” she whispers back. “I don’t really know how they run a business out of something that looks so ... run down.”
I shrug. “Beats me, but to be honest, I’ve seen worse.”
“True,” she agrees.
We wait until the receptionist returns with what must be Brock, though, as he nears closer, I shake my head in confusion. Maybe Brock isn’t here. There is absolutely no way that’s my sister’s boyfriend. Magnolia is picky. She knows she’s beautiful and she makes damned sure to pick exactly what matches her. She’s never had anything less than an absolutely gorgeous boyfriend. Not this scraggly haired, tall, skinny, pimply man.
I mean, he looks like an overgrown teenager.
As he stops in front of us, I’m certain she’s brought us the wrong person.
“You’re lookin’ for me?” he murmurs, crossing his arms.
Up close he’s even worse, and that’s saying something. His hair is oily like it hasn’t been washed—or brushed—for days. His skin has a greyish tinge and his clothes hang on is rake skinny body. He looks like he’s on drugs, or maybe he just doesn’t care about personal hygiene. Either way, there is no way my sister would be with him. No way.
“You’re Brock?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Yep. You are?”
We’ve obviously gotten the wrong Brock. We’re way off track here.
“Sorry, I must have got my people mixed up. I’m looking for my sister but I’m in the wrong place.”
I stand and Karen stands beside me, looking equally as confused as Brock.
“Who is your sister?”
“Magnolia,” I say, knowing full well he’s not going to know who she is anyway.
His brows go up. “No kidding.”
Sweet Jesus, please tell me this overgrown teenaged man is not my sister’s boyfriend.
Rupert must be pressing on a fragile part of my brain, because there’s just no way.
Am I hallucinating?
The doctor told me that could happen as Rupert got bigger.
“Do you know her?” I ask, even though the words come out strained because I’m still in shock.
“Yes.” He nods. “I’m her ex.”
Oh, thank the lord they’re not together anymore. Thank the sweet, sweet lord.
“You’re her ex?” I purse my lips and glance at Karen who is curling her lip in the same disgust I feel.
“Yeah, I’m her ex, until she ran off a few weeks ago and dumped me. Haven’t seen her since. She’s got my stuff; I want it back.”
“She ran off?” I question.
Brock nods. “Yep, just disappeared one day. No idea where. Can’t get hold of her. Figured she blocked me.”
“You have no idea where she might have gone?”
He snorts. “It’s Magnolia, fuck knows what’s goin’ through her head. She was all over the place.”
Maybe she was, but it still doesn’t make any sense. Mag is not the kind of person to just disappear. She’d never just stop talking to me without an explanation. No. Something is wrong here, I just don’t know what.
“You’re sure you haven’t seen or heard from her?”
Brock glares at me. “That’s what I just said, isn’t it? You want to find Magnolia, go look for her friend Phoebe. She is the one she’s been hanging around. Them two have been gettin’ themselves into trouble, wouldn’t surprise me if trouble caught up to them.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap.
“It means—” he leans closer and I get a smell of his breath and think for sure Magnolia must have lost her mind “—she’s up to no good. Playin’ with the wrong crowds. She’s askin’ for trouble. If you find her, tell her I want my shit back.”
With that, he turns and walks off.
I try to call out, but he disappears into the back and I’m left standing with my hand in the air and my mouth open. I drop my hand and shout, “Fuck!”
“It’s okay,” Karen says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I know where Phoebe lives, we’ll find her and get to the bottom of this.”
I exhale and turn, facing Karen. “It’s like we’re on a wild goose chase that’s just taking us around and around in circles. Do you think I should go to the police? I just have a bad feeling.”
“Let’s go and see if we can find Phoebe, and before you go to the police, I think you should talk to Alarick and the club. They’ll be able to help.”
Alarick won’t help me.
Alarick can’t stand me.
But she’s right about one thing ... the club might.
I TAKE A SHAKY STEP toward the front gates of the King’s Descendants MC lot. It’s exactly the same as I remember it. Not a thing has changed except the bikes are newer and there seem to be a whole lot more of them now. Signs all over the fence announce exactly who they are and warn that intruders will be dealt with. It’s not a place you’d just walk into, but for me, it’s just part of a world I am familiar with.
It’s not scary.
It’s just home.
I push the gates open and walk toward the main house, the massive place that I’ve experienced so many things in my life. From my first party, to my first kiss, to losing my virginity at eighteen right there in the big shed. Memories flood my mind and my heart aches at the remembrance of what I went through here. God, so much. So damned much.
Dust swirls around my feet as I get closer to the house, and as I do, the front door opens, and I can’t help but grin as one of my favorite club members walks out. Tall, oh so tall, with wild dark red hair and creamy skin, eyes that are as green as emeralds and tattoos that make him stand out in any crowd. Mykel.
I’d go as far as saying he was my best friend, even though he’s a good six or seven years older than me. He was always Alarick’s friend and so it made sense he was patched into the club when Alarick took over. Why wouldn’t he be? He fits right in.
“My eyes must be mistakin’ me because there’s no way, no fuckin’ way that you’re standin’ here right now.”
I grin and raise a hand to block off the sun so I can see him better. “You’re seeing me right, it’s me.”
“Fuck me down. Briella. Get over here.”
I rush forward and up the two front steps and when I reach him, he launches me into his arms and hangs onto me so tightly I can’t breathe. Tears burn under my eyelids as I realize just how much I’ve missed them all, and how damned stupid I was to leave without giving them an explanation.
When Mom died, and everything went down with King and the club and the horrors that surrounded it, I honestly thought I was better off without them. Up until this point, I guess I tried to convince myself of that, but now I’m here I realize that I was wrong. These people are family, and I’ve been away from them for too long.
Mykel puts me down and looks over me, his eyes scanning every inch. He’s handsome, he always was, of course, but now he’s a man. He has filled out to be an incredible male, someone that most women would go to their knees for. Hell, if I just met him, I would, too.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice now husky and deep. “Fuckin’ beautiful. You grew up real nice, kid.”
I laugh. “Well thanks, I’d like to think I’m doing okay in the looks department.”
He smiles. “You look just like your momma.”
My heart aches, and I’m reminded of just how much I miss her. I’m reminded of the events that took her life. I’m reminded of the turmoil that came after it. I’m reminded of all the horror that was unleashed. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“Never thought I’d see you again, but I’m glad you’re here. Why are you here, if I might add?”
“I can’t find Magnolia, and I’m starting to get worried. As much as I hate to ask, I need Alarick’s help. Something is wrong, and I need to find out where she is.”
“Mag’s, hey?” he rubs a hand down his chin. “Haven’t seen her for a few months, to be honest. She don’t come around here much. She never did like it.”
“No,” I laugh. “She certainly didn’t. The princess and the frog, her and I, am I right?”
He chuckles. “Nothin’ frog like about you, darlin’. Nothin’ at all. Now get inside, I know those men are goin’ to be glad to see your pretty face.”
He turns us and we walk inside the club house.
The moment we step inside my whole heart feels like it’s going to explode. The same pool tables, the same bar, the same chairs with the same old men sitting on them. Everything, except the few women strutting around, is the same. Everything. My eyes move to the two men standing at the bar, deep in conversation, and my heart explodes. Samson and Kendric. The other two that I got along with so well. The two that make up the five men that became my whole world.
I rush over without thought and wedge myself right into the middle of them, throwing my arms around their big waists, shocking the absolute shit out of them. A few gruff-like grunts and a moment of hesitation, and then they realize just who is hanging onto them like it’ll be the last time I ever see them. I tip my head back and look up at them, a huge smile on my face, and within minutes, they’re smiling the same smile.
“Well fuck me,” Samson chuckles low. “Bri Bri.”
“You’re a damned good sight,” Kendrick r
umbles. “Been a long fuckin’ time, Briella. Got a few words to have with you for runnin’ off and leavin’ us.”
“I know,” I say, pressing my face back down between them and hugging them tight. “You can yell at me later, just let me hug you for a minute longer.”
They do as I request and let me hug them for a minute longer. Their big hands patting me and pulling me in closer. Then, I step back and look at them again. Really taking them in this time. Gosh, not a thing has changed about them really, except now they’re so much more masculine. Their bodies have filled out with large muscles and hair in places that really does good things for them.
Kendric, who was always the quieter of the group, is huge now. His muscles bulge in his shirt, looking as though they’re trying to bust out with every movement. He’s covered in tattoos, which is no shock as they all are. His hair is messy on top of his head, curling at the base of his neck, still the same black I remember. His face is that of a statue, with his chiseled jaw, full lips, striking grey eyes and olive skin. He’s utter perfection.
Samson almost matches his god-like name. His hair is long, thick and flowing down around his shoulders. It’s as black as Kendric’s, and equally as thick. His face is rougher around the edges, with his two-day growth, his deep brown eyes and his skin that has a scatter of scars in different areas. He too is huge, well-muscled and covered in tattoos.
These men are a lady’s dream come true, no doubt about it.
“Thought I told you not to fuckin’ come in here.”
At the sound of Alarick’s voice, I spin around to see him striding into the room with a gorgeous blonde following after him, her face all red and flustered. God. Nothing changes in here, then. They’ve still got those girls flaunting themselves around for a free ride. And not on the motorcycles.
I cross my arms but stand a little closer to Samson to avoid the wrath of the big, angry man currently glaring at me like he would rather Hitler standing in front of him than me.
Well.
I can be just as mean if need be.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be, but Magnolia is missing, and I have nobody else to turn to.”