WE ARE ONE: Volume Two

by Jewel, Bella

  Echo huffs. “If we have the Fucking Sentinels,” she enunciates loudly, “behind us, then Tony’s going to think twice about burning any of us to the ground.”

  My eyes narrow as the final piece of the puzzle slots into place. And it figures. That’s the Marchetti modus operandi. They like to burn everything and everyone who fucks them over.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Ace’s decibel level is high enough to make me wince. I take another sip of whiskey. And another. The cheap flavour improves with each mouthful, probably because it’s burned my taste buds clean away. Ace splays her arms out wide. “The Sentinels aren’t guns for hire!”

  Well … technically that’s true. We aren’t contract killers, but if a Sentinel brother or their family has trouble, then that becomes our trouble.

  Echo looks to me, an expectant expression on her face. I’ve done my part, she’s telling me. Now go do yours.

  My jaw ticks. Nice try, Echo, I tell her with a hard, silent response while Ace perches her butt on the edge of the couch as far from me as possible, her arm stretching to impossible lengths to reach the whiskey bottle, but that’s not how this works.

  After a considerable amount of strained quiet, in which I’m reviewing their argument in my head, I set down my offensive glass of alcohol, stand, walk to the kitchen bench, turn and lean against it so I can eye them both from above, and fold my arms.

  “Kelly—” Ace begins.

  I cut her off. “Let me get this clear. You steal cars—”

  “Used to.”

  My nostrils flare. “You used to steal cars. Considering Tony Marchetti is involved, and yes I know who he is,” I add before Ace can interrupt me again, “that must make him the chop shop you delivered to. But now you’re busy trying to put that life behind you, workin’ hard at gettin’ yourself a quality education, and Tony Marchetti has decided he doesn’t like that—the business is too lucrative and he’s got a reputation to maintain. So he’s asked you to steal a bunch more cars, and I say cars because Echo mentioned it was more than one. You refused. So instead of gettin’ someone else to do his dirty work, he’s makin’ you do it—because you’re the best in the biz—by threatening to burn you…” my hands curl into fists “…and everyone you care about, to the motherfuckin’ ground if you don’t.”

  “Kelly—” Ace tries again.

  “I’m not fuckin’ finished,” I bite out.

  Her eyes narrow.

  “Now I’m figurin’ you did somethin’ since then that he doesn’t like, because your Mustang, along with your grandfather’s garage, are charred beyond repair. Not only that, you were out last Saturday night with Echo and your grandfather, trying to get the cars he’s blackmailing you into boosting, because he lit a fire beneath you. Literally. This means he’s impatient, so you must be on a deadline.”

  “Like I said before, this is not—”

  “What? My problem?” My eyes flatten and every muscle in my body goes rigid. “Because if it wasn’t before, it is now.”

  Echo nods her agreement, her expression smug. Ace is sitting stiffly, fury radiating from every pore of her body. Tough shit. She is not going to deal with this on her own.

  “Give me the list.”

  “What list?” Ace asks.

  “Really? After all that, you’re still going to feign ignorance?”

  Echo stands and walks over to me, a sheet of paper in her hand. I take it, scanning the ten cars (two are marked off so I’m assuming those have already been delivered) with disbelief. Marchetti is expecting the impossible. Surely Arcadia ‘Ace’ Jones is not that good.

  I tuck the list in my pocket and glare at both girls. “Neither of you are gonna do a damn thing from here on out without my say so. I don’t want you talkin’ to Marchetti, or answerin’ his calls, or plannin’ any kind of boost, until I work out the best way to deal with this.”

  I can tell by both their expressions that my orders have not been well received. It’s quite clear that Echo wants me solely for protection, having endorsed me as a hired gun. And Ace … well, Ace doesn’t want me involved at all.

  Unfortunately for them, I don’t get involved unless I have full control of the situation, and in this, I sure as hell am getting involved.

  “Ace. Walk me out.”

  She doesn’t hesitate, rising from the couch and walking to the front door. I’m not fooled by this sudden acquiescence. Ace is spoiling for a fight, and I’m more than happy to deliver her one.

  It’s not until we’re out on the porch facing each other that she lets loose, though not in the way I expected. She does it in a way that throws me completely.

  “Kelly, I know why you’re doing this.” She tucks her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “Why you’re trying to push me out completely and gain control of this mess I’m in. It’s because you care, and you don’t like that you care, but you care anyway. And that makes you scared. I get that, because I’ve been there, with Mason. No one wants people they care about ending up injured, or in a wheelchair, or dead. But you can’t help me. You can’t do what I do. You’re a Sentinel. A biker. If you do anything at all, the cops will be all over you like flies on shit. Tony Marchetti promised me that once I deliver this list, then this will all be over. No more cars.”

  “Bullshit,” I mutter. “When it comes to guys like that, it’s never over.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” She looks away. “But that’s my risk to take.”

  “Not anymore.” I tuck a thumb beneath her chin, drawing her attention back to me. “It’s our risk now.” I duck my head, kissing her. “It’s ours.”

  * * *

  I’m seated around a table at the club later that night, along with Hammer, Lee, and Fox. We’re outside, tucked in a dark corner, where I’ve gathered them all and explained Ace’s situation.

  The girls might have laid the story out to me—in a roundabout fashion—but it doesn’t mean I know how to go about fixing it just yet, short of shooting Marchetti in the head. Ace is basically tied to him for life until something is done. So whatever it is, it has to be a viable solution that won’t ricochet back on her—and on us.

  Hammer rubs at the hair of his beard, thinking it all through.

  “Can’t we just shoot them all?” Fox says, sitting forward, his fingers tapping away at the arm of his chair as if he’s itching to go out right now and do just that.

  Lee gives him a hard glare. “And risk an all-out war?”

  He shrugs. “We can take them.”

  I shake my head. “Shootin’ them all dead is tempting.” My mind recalls the way it feels to end a life. To see blood and brain matter splatter up the wall. It’s the kind of thing that sticks with you in everything you do, even the mundane. Like when you’re fixing a car and you slice your finger on a sharp piece of metal—there it all is, the loud bang of gunfire and blood spraying over your face. Or sitting with your brothers, shooting the shit, and you look up at the bright blue sky and it just slams into you like a fist to the gut—your mother’s brilliant blue eyes and how the life faded from them so damn fast. That’s why I ride, and why being with Ace is so good, because they both make it all go away. “Real tempting, Fox. But the repercussions are too big.”

  “I agree.” Hammer nods his head, taking it in. “I have a better plan. One that doesn’t involve guns and warfare.”

  All eyes slice his way.

  “You still friends with the Valentines?” he asks me.

  My lips press into a flat line. The Valentines are a force to be reckoned with in Sydney. Of the three brothers, two of them, Travis and Jared, are co-owners of the consulting business with Casey. So no, we’re not friends. However, just under a year ago, their sister, Mac, who’s always up in my business, and everyone else’s business for that matter, got in a spot of trouble with the King Street Boys. Mac, I consider a friend. So her troubles became ours. I got the Sentinels involved, and the situation evolved into a shoot-out that ended the life of the eldest Valentine brother’s girlfriend.
But our actions helped save Mac and Romero’s life.

  “I was never friends with them, you know that. We’re not tight.”

  “Maybe not, but they do owe you a favour.”

  I nod my head. “That’s true. Why? What are you thinking, Hammer?”

  He rubs his beard again, his mind visibly ticking over. Appearing done, he leans forward in his seat. “Right. This is what we’re gonna do.”

  Hammer lays it all out, and I can’t deny it. His plan makes solid sense. “We can’t tell the girls, obviously, so we’ll have to work around that. Otherwise, I can’t see any other issues. This could actually work.”

  “Damn straight,” he replies.

  “The plan is solid,” Lee agrees.

  Fox disagrees, mostly because he’s pissed. “I prefer the guns.”

  I shake my head. “For someone who spends his time patchin’ up the wounds of the bleeding, you’re pretty damn eager to go out and put a few holes in some people.”

  “Just those that deserve it,” he counters.

  “Well, not this time.” I stand, clapping Hammer on the back before I head to the bar. “Drinks are on me, you cheap assholes,” I tell the lot of them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Arcadia

  It’s after midnight. I can’t sleep. There was no sex tonight after all. No double orgasm. After Kelly left earlier, Echo declared mutiny by taking his side. Considering I can’t boost any of the cars on the list without her, I had to sit at home and not do a damn thing just like Kelly ordered.

  It irks me that she got him involved. I’m independent, which makes relying on others difficult. There’s never been an easy way out for me. But if I’m being honest, I’m a little relieved too. Now that he knows everything, I feel less of an obligation to push him away. There’s no need now that I have nothing left to hide. And there’s also the fact that I don’t want to.

  When he said that it was now our risk to take, it made me want to cry. It made me want to tell him yes, I need you. But admitting that to myself makes my insides knot with dread. Already, I can’t imagine him not being in my life. He can’t be another Mason. I can’t go through that again. I even admitted that to Echo, though she knows me well enough to figure out what was going through my head anyway.

  She told me, “Everything in life that matters requires risk.”

  Sick at heart, I roll to my side beneath the heavy covers. Kelly matters.

  “But this is different. This is me putting him at risk,” I told her.

  “It’s not, you imbecile.” She took a frustrated breath. “It’s him putting himself at risk. There’s nothing you can do to stop him, Ace. So let him do this. Let him in. Let him help you.”

  So here I am, not doing a damn thing until Kelly’s say so, and I don’t like it. If I’m agreeing to his involvement, then he needs to learn he’s not in charge. I am.

  I roll to my back, my eyes hitting the ceiling. Sleep is proving more elusive tonight than a Mustang rebuild.

  My phone vibrates a message from my bedside table. Sitting up on one elbow, I reach over and grab it, squinting at the sudden bright light as I read it.

  Kelly: On my way

  My pulse leaps like a horse at the starting gate. I’m not ready. I need space. Time. To … to … I don’t know. I’m just so wired right now. Kelly being here will ramp that up further when I’m doing everything I can to centre myself and think things through. I tap out a quick reply.

  Me: Pretty sure I didn’t invite you.

  There. That’s about as welcoming as a fly in your sandwich.

  Three little dots appear on the screen. I stare at them, waiting, biting down on the smile trying to form on my lips.

  Kelly: And I’m pretty sure I don’t need your permission to step over the threshold. I’m not a vampire, babe.

  Me: You wouldn’t dare. You’re not the one in charge here, despite what you seem to think.

  Kelly: We’ll talk about it when I get there

  Fifteen minutes later I hear the rumble of a motorcycle from down the street. It gets closer and closer until it’s in the driveway and all I can hear. My windows judder a little as does my heart.

  Next comes the heavy footfall of boots on my porch stairs. Is he going to just barge his way in? With the covers drawn up to my chin, I hold my breath with anticipation, waiting to find out.

  The doorknob rattles. Does he seriously think I wouldn’t lock the front door before going to bed? What shower does he think I last came down on?

  I wait for the knock, whereby I will calmly walk to the door, open it, tell him that it’s too late for visitors and to return at a more suitable hour tomorrow morning. However, that doesn’t happen. Instead, there’s a jolt and a click, followed by the sound of my front door swinging wide open.

  I jerk upright, my heart a jackhammer behind my ribcage. He did not!

  Scrambling from my bed in just my panties and oversized tee, I stalk from my bedroom. Goose bumps rise on my skin because it’s freezing. Ignoring the chilly air, I find Kelly stepping inside my house. My eyes roam the full length of him. He’s wearing the same thing he wore earlier, though this time he’s added a black motorcycle jacket. I lean against the doorframe of my room and fold my arms, brows arching high enough to fly right off my face.

  Kelly hasn’t noticed me yet. He’s setting his helmet on the floor by the door. His eyes land on me as he’s shrugging out of his jacket. He tosses it over the back of the armchair, ignoring my expression of incredulity. “Babe, what are you doin’ out of bed?”

  “Well, when someone breaks into my house, I think it’s best to greet them at the front door and offer a welcoming coffee, don’t you?” My voice is thick with sarcasm. “It’s only the polite thing to do.”

  “Awesome. I’d love a coffee,” he replies, remaining deliberately obtuse.

  “I’m not making you a coffee,” I hiss. “You just broke into my house!”

  “You’re right. My bad.” Kelly holds up both hands as if surrendering, his lips twitching with amusement. He’s like a cat toying with a mouse, and I’m the mouse. “I’ll wait here while you call the cops.”

  I push off from the doorframe and stalk toward him until we’re nice and close, my eyes narrowing. “Don’t ever break into my house again.”

  He takes my hips, pulling me against him. My arms remain folded, making our joined pose awkward and uncomfortable, but I refuse to yield. I’m not in the wrong here.

  “I wouldn’t have to if you gave me a key,” he points out, as if it were the logical thing to do—which it isn’t!

  “You’re not my boyfriend. You don’t get a key.”

  “Babe.” His palms caress my hips beneath my tee, the gesture warming me like a heated blanket. “I was trying to be quiet and let myself in because I didn’t want you gettin' out of bed. It’s cold as all fuck. Now go.” Kelly turns me around until I’m facing the direction of my bedroom and slaps my ass. “Get back in bed. I’ll go make coffee.”

  I’m already at the door to my room when I realise I’ve just blindly done what he told me to do, but how can I not? The man didn’t want me to be cold. He was looking out for my welfare. I can’t very well be rude and kick him out for that now, can I?

  I pause by the open door and half turn. Kelly’s in the kitchen, opening cupboards, looking for the mugs. He finds them on the shelving above the electric kettle.

  “Can you make mine a chamomile tea?” I call out softly. “The teabags are in the canister by the coffee. I can’t have caffeine so late at night. I won’t sleep.”

  His back is to me when he replies, “Sure thing, babe,” and it makes me smile, so I return to my bed, pull the covers back up to my chin, and drift off listening to the sound of Kelly moving about in my kitchen.

  I rouse a little from my doze when the bed dips. The covers resettle when he slides in behind me. His arm snakes around my middle, and I’m dragged backward until I’m the little spoon to his big one. Heat surrounds me. I turn, burying my face
in the warmth of his chest because my nose and cheeks are cold. He’s shirtless and smells like cinnamon soap with an underlying hint of chassis grease. It’s my kind of heaven.

  “I’m awake.”

  He shushes me quietly. “Go back to sleep.”

  Another order. One I’m happy to get on board with, except we haven’t settled anything. “We need to talk,” I mumble against his chest.

  “Tomorrow.”

  Ah yes. Tomorrow. I burrow further. “Wait. It is tomorrow.”

  “In the morning then.”

  “It’s okay.” I rub my face sleepily. His chest hair tickles. “All I wanted to say was…” I pause to yawn “…that I decided you can help.” His arms squeeze me tighter. “But I’m the one in charge.”

  Suddenly, I’m cold again. I open my eyes. Kelly is glaring, having pushed me away so I’m better able to see just how much my statement bothers him. I’m starting to feel a little more awake though my eyes feel bleary.

  “I know what I’m doing,” I point out.

  “And I don’t?”

  “Look, we can argue about this until the cows come home, but the fact remains I’m the expert here. Therefore, I call the shots.”

  Kelly sits up in my bed, the sheets pooling to his lap. It’s definitely an unfair advantage in this argument. He certainly knows how to fight dirty. “So exactly how do you envisage me ‘helping’ you?” he air-quotes.

  I pause for a moment. Well, I boost the cars and drive them to Tony. Echo does all the intel, and works as a virtual lookout. Kelly could … could … “You can pick me up after I deliver the cars.”

  His nostrils flare as he draws in a deep breath, as though he’s trying to put a leash on his rising anger. My eyes drop, watching his chest rise and fall. “That’s how you envisage me helping you?”

  “Huh?”

  “Ace?”

  My eyes rise to his. Yep. Totally unfair. I whip off my shirt and toss it to the end of the bed. Goose bumps break out across my skin. I shiver and hug my chest, feeling ridiculous and exposed.