by Jessica Ames
“I’m fine.” The words slip automatically from my mouth
His cocked brow tells me he doesn’t believe me.
“Know you went to that club in the Sic Bastards territory.” His words take me by surprise, but they shouldn’t. On some level, I knew this was coming. Levi isn’t stupid, and even though I’m no longer under his roof, he’s not in the dark. I’m guessing Daimon told him what happened in the club the other night. These men stick together. Although just how much he told him, I don’t know. Things happened that night I’m not exactly proud of.
“I’m nineteen. Legally, I’m allowed to go to any club I want to.” I can’t help but bristle at his tone.
“Ain’t saying that, Brie. Don’t care that you went out. You’re young, you should be enjoying life.”
“Then what are you saying?”
He leans forwards on the table. “I’m worried about you, that’s all.”
My heart clenches. I don’t want to give my brother a problem. He has always done everything to solve mine. I lean across the table and snag his hand, squeezing it.
“There’s no need to be. I’m fine.”
He eyes me and I see the scepticism in his eyes.
“Daimon said you were shit-faced in enemy territory.”
I roll my eyes at him, irritation flaring. Tattletale. “I don’t have enemies, Levi.”
“No, but the club does. They could use you to hurt us.”
A ripple of fear works through my belly at his words. I knew I had been in danger. Daimon had also made it clear, but hearing Levi say it makes it more real.
I place my sandwich back on the plate, the food swirling in my stomach.
“How have you been without me?” It’s a blatant change of subject, but he doesn’t comment on it, other than to eye me.
“I miss your cooking. Been eating nothing but takeaway since you moved out.”
This doesn’t surprise me. Levi is a fucking disaster in the kitchen.
“I’ll bring you over some stuff you can put in the freezer. I don’t want you to waste away to nothing.”
He smiles. “You know if you need anything I’m here for you. Always. Don’t care if it’s to put the fear of God into an ex or help you bury a fucking body. I’m here for you.”
I swallow hard as his words shred me. “I know,” I whisper.
I don’t deserve his support and if he knew the truth, I doubt he’d give it to me. If he saw how unclean I am. How dirty and wrong. If he finds out, what will it mean? Levi will want to hurt him for touching me, but that can’t happen, not without my brother possibly losing his life. This isn’t just a regular brother he’s going up against. He’s Ravage’s blood. Nothing can happen to my brother. Nothing.
“What’s going on with you?” Levi demands.
I shake my head. “Why is everyone suddenly so interested in me? Between you and Daimon, I’m losing my mind. I don’t need either of you interfering in my life.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. I know it the moment his eyes narrow on me.
“Daimon? What the fuck’s he got to do with this?”
Shit. We’ve done nothing wrong, but the look Levi’s firing at me is positively scary.
“Nothing.”
“Something going on there I should fucking know about?”
I roll my eyes at him. “You’re my brother, not my father. Stop being a dick.” My ambiguous words don’t calm my brother down.
Levi leans forward on the table and hisses in my face, “Is he fucking sniffing around you?”
“Levi—”
“Has he fucking touched you?” Panic assails me. If he’s this angry about the hint of Daimon touching me, what will he do when he finds out my secret? I can’t allow Levi to do time for killing a brother, which is exactly what he’ll want to do when he hears the truth.
“No.” I grab his arm as he stands, rattling the table as he does. “Levi, sit the hell down.”
“Why’s he interfering in your life?” he snarls out and honestly, I’m a little scared. I’ve never seen my brother like this—other than when he pulled me out of Dad’s house, but that anger wasn’t directed at me then.
I swallow before I speak. “He’s just… being overprotective after that night in the club.”
“Ain’t his fucking business. You ain’t his fucking problem.”
Despite the situation, I arch a brow at him, my own anger flaring now. “Is that what I am to you? A problem?”
He tears his hands through his hair. “Don’t make this about shit it’s not.”
“You’re the one making it about shit it’s not.”
“He been around?”
I can’t lie to my brother. I should, but I can’t, so I open then close my mouth.
“He’s been around,” Levi correctly surmises and I can see the fury racing through his body. “He trying to get into your fucking knickers?”
“Levi—”
“Go back to work.”
He scowls and before I can stop him, he’s taking off for the door.
Shit.
15
Daimon
I’m sitting at the clubhouse’s bar with Ravage and Titch, drinking a pint and smoking a cigarette. We’re talking about my favourite topic—money. The club acquired a new business this week. We took it as a debt from a client who owed us a shit ton in missed payments. He’s down a business and two working kneecaps, but the message was delivered loud and clear to anyone else who feels like crossing us. It won’t be tolerated.
Problem is, we don’t know what the fuck to do with it.
We run bars and strip clubs. We’ve never run a real business before. What the fuck do we know about telemarketing? It’s a lucrative opportunity, though. Turns a good profit from what I can see from the books. It’ll be a good asset for the legal side of the Sons.
“You think we should keep the staff on?” Ravage asks me.
I scrub a hand over the back of my neck as I consider his question. “I think we don’t want the hassle of recruiting.”
He nods. “It looks like it’s going to give us a good income.”
“Yeah, it should,” I say, as I take a sip of my pint.
Titch leans forwards on the stool, so he can look past Rav to me. “You think we might need someone in place to oversee things? Make sure shit runs as we want.”
He’s probably right about that. We need someone we can trust to keep shit ticking over.
“What about Bailey?” I say.
Nox’s sister currently works at the garage as an administrator. We all trust her implicitly. She grew up in this life, a club brat, so she knows how shit works around here. Not sure she wants the job of CEO, but it’s worth asking.
“I’ll ask Nox to talk to her,” Rav agrees.
“Briella works in telemarketing,” Titch says.
“I’d rather have someone in place with a little more experience,” Rav says, “but she wants a job there it’s hers.”
The door suddenly bangs open behind us, drawing all of our attention. I turn quickly on the stool, even as Rav draws a gun from the back of his jeans. He lowers it when he sees who is standing in the doorway. Levi.
My heart rate starts to slow, until I realise he’s shooting fire in my direction. What the fuck? I slip off the stool, all my senses going on alert. Something is wrong. Very wrong.
He stalks towards me, anger pulsing from every part of his body. I brace, prepared for whatever is going to come at me. When he throws his fist out, I duck back easily, but the bar is at my back, meaning I can’t move far enough and he clocks me in the chops. Levi isn’t a small guy. He’s built and his punch connects hard enough to leave a trail of white-hot pain radiating through my jaw. I taste blood in my mouth, the coppery tang coating my tongue.
I stagger against the bar, clutching my face as I glare at him. Rav is standing between us, his hand pressed against Levi’s chest while Titch holds him from behind. He’s smaller than Levi by quite a way, but he’ll give as good
as he gets if Levi decides to push things.
“The fuck, man?” I demand.
“Someone start fucking explaining.” Rav’s eyes flare with unbridled rage. Fights between brothers happen from time to time, but we usually dole out our grievances in the ring, not in the middle of the fucking common room. There’re rules
“What are you doing with my fucking sister?” Levi growls out, ignoring Prez completely.
I huff my breath out as I try to regain control of my anger. Cold clutches around my stomach at his words, an uneasy chill racing through me. I haven’t done a thing with Briella, but there’s definitely a connection there that I can’t and won’t deny.
“Fucking answer me, you bastard.” Levi’s mouth pulls into a snarl as his eyes shoot daggers at me.
I swipe my hand over my lip, pissed when I see a smear of crimson on my skin. Fucker made me bleed.
“Ain’t doing shit,” I sneer at him. “But maybe if you weren’t so wrapped up in club snatch you’d realise your sister is fucking drowning.” It’s cruel maybe to bring up his weird relationship with Noelle, but I chuck it right in his face.
Part of me wonders why I’m throwing myself to the wolves with this shit, why I care about sticking my nose into Briella’s business.
Except she’s more than that to me. I feel shit for her I can’t explain, shit I’ve never felt with any other woman.
Levi throws himself against Titch’s hold, fire blazing in his eyes. It might be sick, but I relish the rage in his glare. It’s about time he stopped putting his dick first and took care of Briella. She needs him, and I don’t care if I was the one who had to make him wake up and see that.
“The fuck do you know about my sister?”
“Enough to know she’s having nightmares every fucking night, that she can’t sleep because of it. Enough to know she’s drinking her fucking problems away because she can’t stop and deal with whatever is going on with her.”
My words cut through me, so they must gore Levi. How can we all have been so blind to what she’s going through?
Levi stops struggling and I see the pain bleed into his eyes at my words.
“She’s drinking?”
“Yeah, brother. That night in the bar she was tanked, but I’ve seen her since and smelt alcohol on her breath.”
“Sasha said she saw her in the park the other day getting drunk on a bench,” Rav adds.
I’m not surprised Sasha told him that. I get the impression there are no secrets between them any longer, not after keeping secrets nearly destroyed them both. Sasha kept hidden what Rav’s brother, Sin, did to her. She left town instead of dealing with the shame she felt, which left both her and Rav devastated. It was only when she was forced to come home because Lily-May, their daughter, was sick, that the truth started to come out.
Levi pulls free of Titch’s hold and paces the floor, his hand scrubbing over his face. I can see the dismay, the tension in every line of his body.
I want to punch him for hitting me, but I know why he did it. If the roles were reversed, I’d gut him.
“Something is fucking going on with her, Levi, and I can’t get to the bottom of what the fuck it is.” There’s a hint of desperation in my words that has his nostrils flaring at my words.
“Why are you even trying? She ain’t your business.”
I push around Rav, so I can snarl in his face. “Everything she fucking does is my business!”
“Since when?”
“Since I became the one picking up the broken pieces and trying to put them back together.”
“She’s a fucking kid, Day.”
“She’s an adult, capable of making her own choices,” I counter.
He scoffs at my words, throwing his hands up in the air. Itchy fury scrapes down my spine.
“And she chose you?”
His words piss me off and I bristle. “Fuck you, shit head.”
“If you’ve touched her, I’ll fucking bury your body in the woods.”
“Ain’t laid a finger on her yet and I won’t until she’s ready.”
His mouth curls up at my words. “You won’t touch her at all. She ain’t available pussy for you to sink your dick into. She’s my fucking sister.”
I see red, my anger reaching breaking point. I pull my fist back and slam it into his face before Rav or Titch can stop me. He staggers back and glares at me as he wipes the blood from his nose.
I don’t know how the fuck he can talk about Brie like that. I don’t see her as ready-made pussy at all, the fucking cunt.
“Have I ever given you the impression I think of her like that?”
He can’t argue with that, because I haven’t.
“She’s fucking nineteen years old,” he says.
“At her age I was patched into the club. She ain’t a kid, Levi. Whether you want to admit it or not. She’s a fucking adult.”
“You’re twelve years older than her.”
“I don’t care.” I’m fighting for us, pushing my brother when I have no idea if Brie even wants me. We haven’t done anything together, but when I think about her leaving me, I feel a wave of rage. She’s mine, and I’ll do whatever it takes to fucking keep her—even go up against her brother.
Levi snarls a curse and pushes away from Titch. His finger stabs in my direction.
“This shit ain’t over.”
“It is over,” I tell him, and I mean that. I’m not prepared to give up what I’m building with Briella. Not for him.
“Where’re you going?” I demand as he heads to the door.
“To find out what the fuck is going on with my sister.”
Panic assails me for a moment. This situation is tenuous and the last thing Brie needs is him rushing in and fucking shit up.
“You run in there all guns blazing, she’s going to shut down. We need to handle her carefully.”
“Don’t tell me how to deal with my sister. I know her better than you.”
“Yeah, then how come you didn’t know about any of this shit?” He opens then closes his mouth and I see the guilt weigh heavily in his eyes. “I get you want answers, brother. I want them too, but we have to do this strategically if we’re going to get them.”
Levi’s hands drop to his hips, his shoulders sagging.
“What do you propose?”
I give him a half-smile. “An intervention.”
16
Briella
It’s two days after I screwed things up with Levi and things have been quiet. It’s putting me on edge. I have no idea if he spoke to Daimon because I haven’t seen him either. Everyone seems to be avoiding me—even Layla has been busy with work.
I’m sitting at home alone, the voices that plague me chipping away at what little sanity I have left. I need them to be quiet, to leave me alone. Before I know what I’m doing, I head into my bedroom and pull a half empty bottle of whiskey from one of my drawers. It’s hidden underneath some clothes, buried at the back. A voice in my brain whispers it isn’t normal, that I should be worried about my secret stashes of booze hidden around the house, but I silence it with the first sip, loving the way it burns away the filth.
I walk barefooted back into the living room and sink onto the sofa as I take another slug of it. Relief washes through me, that itch between my shoulders lessening, that fire in my gut doused. I need this like I need my next breath. It quietens my mind, giving me a break from the constant memories that flash behind my eyes. It makes me forget the pain of what happened to me. It stops me drowning in the filth and darkness that now permanently shrouds me.
Letting the alcohol flow through my body, I relax as I slouch on the sofa. I let myself drift, let my thoughts empty, let go of my fear, my inhibition and I exist as more than just a victim.
A knock on the door startles me, and I jolt, sloshing the whiskey in the bottle. Fuck. I sit up straighter, wondering who could be at the door.
Slowly, I cap the bottle and slip it down the back of the sofa cushions before I push
to my feet.
When I get to the door, I peer through the peep hole and see Daimon on the other side. My heart starts to gallop as I realise just how much I’ve missed him over the past few days. I drag the door open, excitement at seeing him making my movements sharp.
As soon as my eyes lock onto him, I feel my entire body relax in ways the booze couldn’t make happen. I let out a little breath as I take him in. He looks divine, standing there with his dark hair pulled into a tie at the nape of his neck, his kutte moulded to his torso like it’s a part of him. My mouth dries as I take in the thin grey tee he’s wearing and the jeans that are sculpted to his perfect arse. He has a cut lip, which is new. It wasn’t there a few days ago, when I last saw him. I want to ask him about it, but I don’t.
“Hi,” I breathe out on a rush of air.
He steps inside without saying a word, kicking the door shut with a booted foot.
“I need to talk to you.”
My heart skips several beats, his words clawing up my spine as I wonder what he could possibly have to talk to me about.
“Oh… Okay.”
He moves into the living area and gestures for me to take a seat on the sofa, which I do. Nervous energy beats frantically against my stomach as he sits opposite me.
“Don’t want to blind side you, so I’m telling you in a few minutes your brother, Sasha, Ravage and Layla are going to be here to talk to you too.”
My heart starts to pound at his words. Why would they want to talk to me? This can’t mean anything good and the tension I lost is back in full force.
“Why?”
“Think you know why.”
Because of the bottle stashed down the back of my sofa. Because I have three other bottles hidden around the house or because of my dark secret…
I wipe clammy hands on my jeans.
“What the fuck, Daimon? I don’t need to talk to anyone.” Panic makes my words terse and angry. He doesn’t seem fazed by my outburst.
“I can smell the booze on your breath. Smelt it as soon as I walked into the flat.” There’s a hint of sadness in his voice, which makes my heart start to race faster. This is about my drinking, not him. I don’t know if that makes me relieved or not. Which would be the lesser sin to find out?