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The Mute and the Menace

Page 17

by A. R. Breck


  “Thank you.” I smile at him and run my hand down my bump, finally feeling a little bit better about tonight.

  “Jex, cook up some burgers for these fuckers, will ya?”

  “Already on it.” Jex shouts over his shoulder, just a moment before loud as hell rock music starts blaring out of some speakers that I wasn’t even aware were out here.

  “Fuckin’ Pascal.” He yells. Walking up to Easton, he leans in and whispers something in his ear. I narrow my eyes as I try to read his lips, but they barely move. Easton nods, and Aziel slaps his shoulder as he walks off.

  What the fuck was that about?

  Jex chats with Easton while our food cooks and Jackson walks off to get me a bottled water, since the only thing in the cooler was beer.

  “This place is… interesting.” I mumble to Rose.

  “No kidding, do you see the women in this place? They all want us dead.”

  I glance around and see most of the women fawning over the men, sitting in their laps, or trying to grab their attention. Either these women are super horny or their staking their claim.

  Maybe a little bit of both.

  The men don’t seem to mind though. The ones falling for the women’s attention are grabbing handfuls of ass or other parts of the body that make me cringe.

  The Grove is bad, but this is something else. But The Grove is like, bottom of the dumpster. These people clearly have more money in their pockets, but their lifestyle is… raw.

  They all seem wild and untamed. I wonder what living here every day must be like. How they live and act and go about their daily lives.

  It’s like a little world inside of the world.

  I feel hands wrap around my waist. Looking up, I see Jackson standing beside me with a water in his hands. “You all right?” He mumbles in my ear.

  “I’m fine.” I take the water, chugging down half of it.

  While staying at the hotel gives us a little bit of an ocean breeze, this clubhouse is further into the desert and the dry heat is stifling for my pregnant ass.

  He lifts his eyebrows but says nothing.

  Easton comes back with our food, and we go sit down at a table with a group of bikers. It’s the last place I want to sit, but it’s this spot or sitting on the grass and sticking out like a sore thumb.

  I am starting to wonder if Rose chose these clothes to piss of the guys or make us blend in. Because I fit in more now than I would have if I wore the dress I was initially going to wear. I would have been a blot of vibrant colors on a dark canvas.

  “Well look who decided to show their ugly mugs.” Comes a joking voice. I glance up from my plate to see a blonde guy with a cut on and the most sparkling blue eyes that are filled with laughter.

  My heart stops.

  Logan…

  “Shit, West. Didn’t see you. What’s up?” Easton says, giving his hand a shake over the table. Jackson sits on one side of me while Rose sits on the other, and Easton next to her.

  This…West… sits directly in front of me and I feel like I’m seeing a doppelganger of Logan. I want to weep. I want to reach out and touch him and see if he feels the same. I want to bring my nose to the crook of his neck and see if he smells the same.

  “Who’s the pretty ladies?” He smiles a cocky smile as if he knows the effect he has on all women. Of course, Logan was the exact same.

  Why? Why is the world doing this to me?

  “This is Rose.” Easton says, draping a possessive arm over her shoulders.

  West smiles like he knows exactly what Easton is doing and then turns his gaze to me.

  I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out. Just a puff of breath. Air. Holy shit, I can’t even breathe. It’s like someone’s gripping my neck and squeezing the life out of me.

  I can’t breathe.

  I feel a hand fall to my bare leg and squeeze tight.

  “This is my girl, Cara.” Jackson speaks, making West’s eyes widen and his cocky smile drip right off his face.

  “He speaks.” West raises his arms, and the hand on my thigh squeezes tighter, this time to the point of pain.

  I wiggle my leg, and he loosens up but still holds my leg in a vice.

  I lower my gaze as Easton and West start talking, going back to my food. Jackson doesn’t eat a bite of his. None at all. He just sits there with his hand on my leg and watching me eat every piece of food on my plate.

  When I’m finished, Jackson grabs my plate with one hand and my wrist with the other, hauling me out of my spot. I glance back at Rose with wide eyes, and she looks at me concerned before turning to Easton.

  He just shakes his head.

  Jackson pulls me around the side of the building where there are less people, pressing me up against the side of the building.

  He seethes.

  “I know.” He growls, confusing me.

  “You know what?” I narrow my eyes.

  “You… all speechless in front of West. Anyone would be blind not to see the resemblance to Logan. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Fucking cocky as hell attitude. You wanna go fuck him, Cara? Is that what made you speechless?”

  I sputter. Stand there with my jaw to the floor as Jackson lays into me. I mean, yeah, he does look a lot like Logan and even seemed to act somewhat like him. But why would I want to fuck him? One, I’m pregnant, and two, I don’t know the guy. It’s just… seeing someone who resembles my dead boyfriend is eerie.

  Eerie as fuck.

  “Fucking speak, Cara.” He raises his voice and it pisses me right off.

  I point my finger right in his face. “Don’t go all possessive on me, Jackson. Sorry if I couldn’t find my words when I look up from a cheeseburger and see a Logan look-a-like sitting right in front of me. I wasn’t even given a second to gather my thoughts before you bruised my thigh and started saying I’m your girlfriend. I mean, really? Girlfriend? When was this established?”

  He looks down at my thigh, running his finger over the red marks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Are you okay?”

  Seriously? I’m less concerned about my thigh and more concerned about the girlfriend bit.

  “I don’t care about that.” I swat his hand away, making him growl right in my face. “Why did you say girlfriend? Since when?”

  Not that I’m opposed to the idea…

  Yes! I’m very opposed to the idea.

  Right?

  He leans his head back and runs his hands through his hair. “Look, I think we should talk about—”

  “Jackson? Sorry.” Easton turns the corner with Aziel on his heels. He looks extremely uncomfortable. “Sorry, but we need to talk for a minute, Jackson.”

  I look from Easton, to Jackson, to Aziel. They each seem a bit tense, and it makes me worry.

  “Is everything okay?” I speak up, starting to sweat.

  “We’re fine. Go to Rose, would you? She’s probably getting into some kind of trouble by herself.” Easton says, nodding his head in a get the fuck out of here gesture.

  I look at Jackson, and he, too, nods for me to leave.

  I deflate. “We’re not done with this conversation.”

  Turning on my heels, I leave the men behind and once I’m far enough away, look over my shoulder and see them walking through one of the doors with a few other members.

  “Hey, you all right?” Rose says, still sitting on the same bench from before.

  I sit down next to her, glancing at everyone around me. No one seems to be paying much attention to us. They must have realized we’re no one of interest to them.

  Good.

  “I’m fine. Shit, did you see…?”

  “West? Yes! He looks just like…”

  “Logan.” We both say at the same time, becoming quiet when Logan comes to mind. A black cloud of grief falls over us and takes the light away. It’s like saying his name aloud brings back the heartache full force. In my mind, he’s just a memory. When his name is spoken, it brings his death to light.

  It makes my nig
htmare a reality.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.”

  “No, you can’t. Because even I don’t know what I’m feeling.” I run a hand over my face. “Fuck, I just… my mind is so confused right now, with Jackson and everything. Then having these feelings about Logan just mess everything up. I’m just so confused.” I wipe a stray tear as it falls down my cheek. “And I’m really thirsty and Jackson threw my water away.” I sniffle.

  Rose chuckles. “Oh, Cara. Come on, let’s go find you something to drink.”

  We stand up and walk over to a separate set of coolers than the one with all the beer. There’s a group of men standing around these ones, and although they have cuts on like everyone else, these ones seem different than Aziel’s.”

  “Excuse me.” Rose says when we get close enough. “Just looking for a water.” Rose and her fucking manners she grew up with. Yeesh.

  All five men turn around and give us the leeriest looks I think a person could get.

  “Well, hiya darling.” The guy in front says.

  “Hi, I’m just looking for a water for my friend.”

  “Water? You sure you don’t want nothin’ stronger? I could go have Barbi pour us a round of shots.” This man is so tall I have to crank my neck back at an uncomfortable angle just to see him. He’s got a black cut on it with a vibrant colored snake on the back, but there are no patches on the front. It makes me question whether he’s affiliated with The Seven or some other gang. Or maybe he’s a stray coming around to get some ass.

  His brownish gray hair is pulled back into a scraggly pony at the base of his head. He looks to be in his late forties, and where Lynx looks rugged for his age, this man looks weathered.

  I glance over at Rose and see her pale face and body tense, giving away her discomfort. It doesn’t surprise me. Rose has had enough perverts leer at her in her lifetime.

  “No thanks. And it’s not for me, it’s for my friend. She’s pregnant.” She emphasizes the word pregnant, the attitude in her tone clear as day.

  Someone in the back bends down to the cooler and grabs a water. He tosses is to me, and I unscrew the cap and take a sip.

  “Thanks.” I say.

  The man in front hasn’t seemed to take the hint of our disinterest, stepping forward and folding his arms over his head. “I haven’t seen you ladies ‘round here before. Where you from?”

  My body tenses up. “Minnesota.”

  He bobs his head. Uninterested. “How’d you get to learn about this place? Seems a little rough for two little ladies such as yourselves.”

  “My boyfriend, Easton Malone, works with Aziel.” Rose stresses, because they really need to get the fucking hint. But they still don’t, instead they look like they don’t give a fuck who Easton is.

  “Hmm.” He runs his fingers over his bearded chin and gives both Rose and I heated looks. “Well, since he’s not here right now, how about that drink?”

  “I’m pregnant.” Fucking idiot.

  He zeros in on my stomach, and disgustingly his eyes flare with interest. His eyes flick to my hand. “From the looks of it, you ain’t got no husband, sweetheart. In my mind, that’s fair play.”

  “Let’s go, Cara.” Rose grabs onto my arm and pulls me away, and I jump out of my skin when I feel a big hand cup my ass.

  I freeze, turning around and staring and the big greasy bastard in front of me. Raising my palm, I’m about to lay it across his cheek when I see a flash of metal on each side of him. The man’s eyes widen in horror for a second before squinting in pain.

  I scream when Jackson comes into view, a knife in each of his hands as he has them plunged deep in each side of the man’s neck.

  He opens his mouth, a trail of blood coated saliva spilling from the corner of his mouth. He tries to say something, sputtering blood across my face in the process. His teeth turn pink as his face turns pale.

  Jackson pulls the knives out of the man’s neck, making blood spray out of the wound and making my stomach turn.

  The man’s eyes close as he takes his last breath, and his knees give out as he falls to the ground in a pile of blood and limbs.

  “Jackson!”

  “What the fuck!”

  “Shit!”

  Voices echo around me, but they all blur together as my ears ring and my throat bubbles with acid. I bend over, spewing the burger and water all over the grass in front of me.

  “Oh, no! Cara!” I hear Rose’s voice and her small hand pull my hair away from my face. I breathe heavily through my nose as I stand up. The bright sun makes me dizzy and I try to squint my eyes to stop the lightheadedness. The scent of vomit and blood is in the air and I nearly gag through every breath.

  “Are you all right?” Rose asks, her worried face coming into focus.

  “I think so.” I wipe my mouth and when I pull my hand away, I see streaks of blood on it. I gag again, my eyes watering through the retching.

  “Oh, honey. I think it’s time we leave.”

  I nod my head, holding in the cries that want to burst free. The whooshing in my ears sounds like a drum. My body is going haywire right now.

  When I look up, I see Easton and Aziel yelling at Jackson, but I can’t hear a thing. I run a hand down my face and try to focus on what they’re saying.

  “Charlie! Clean this shit up!” Aziel shouts at someone. The kid from the front gate comes into view and starts speaking too quietly for me to hear.

  “You’re lucky this wasn’t a member.” Aziel shakes his head. “You guys need to head out. Don’t want any more blood spilt tonight. We’ll talk soon about that other shit.” Aziel looks pissed but gives them each a bro-shake.

  Then Jackson turns towards me. His eyes are alit with a fire that can’t be snuffed out. He rages and the blood on his neck and clothes look absolutely sinful.

  He walks away from Easton, coming up to me and leaning down to whisper in my ear. “I told you it was his funeral.” He leans back to stare into my eyes, a mean snarl on his face. “This blood is on your hands.”

  Then he takes a step back and walks off, heading to the car without another word.

  A sound similar to a cry comes from my throat, but I swallow it back down before it can break free. How dare he blame something like killing someone on me?

  Is he for real?

  “Come on, Cara. Don’t fucking pay him any attention right now.” Rose says.

  Easton comes up behind her with an angry scowl on his face. “You okay?” He says with concern, although his face looks like he’s next in line to kill someone.

  “I’m okay.”

  He runs his eyes over me and then Rose.

  “Come on.” He says, walking ahead of us towards the car.

  Once I get to the car, I turn around and see the man on the ground gone and Aziel standing near the blood-stained grass. He stares at me, and I lift my hand in a wave. He does so back, letting his hand linger in the air.

  Will this be the last time I ever see Aziel? I don’t know. I’m betting this will be the last time I’m at this clubhouse, that’s for sure.

  I tear my eyes from Aziel and hop in the car. Easton turns in on and leaves the clubhouse. It’s awkward and silent on the ride back. No one wants to speak about what just happened. I think we all know it’ll just lead to fighting. I, for one, am exhausted of the back and forth.

  Once we get to the hotel, the sun has already set over the ocean and we’re left in darkness. Easton and Rose hop out of the front seats. I unbuckle my seatbelt and go to open the door when Jackson’s hand clamps over my wrist.

  Too exhausted to pull out of his hold, I just stare at him.

  I see Rose out of the corner of my eye, giving me a questioning look. I wave her off.

  I’m sure we’ll be a while.

  Easton grabs hold of Rose’s hand and they walk to our room.

  Looking back at Jackson, I see him still staring at me.

  Thinking about the last thing he said to me, I
finally pull my hand out of his. “His blood is on my hands, are you serious?”

  He laughs. “I told you to change your slutty outfit. Look where it got you. You got ass-grabbed by an old fuck and I had to kill him for touching what’s mine.”

  “What’s yours?”

  “Yes. What I fucking said. What’s mine.”

  I’m so fucking pissed. “What’s yours?” I repeat. “How the fuck do you get off calling me yours after you just insulted me and told me some guy who tried to cop a feel, his blood is on my hands?” I scoff. “What a joke.”

  “Are you all right?” He changes tune quick, unclicking his seatbelt and sliding over to my side of the backseat. “He didn’t hurt you or anything?”

  “No, he didn’t.” Just scared me. He made me mad, but he also scared the hell out of me. That guy was huge.

  He grabs onto my chin and turns me to face him. “I’m sorry for getting blood on you. I saw him grab your ass and I just… I just snapped.” He shakes his head.

  “So, you’re sorry for getting blood on me, but you’re not sorry for killing the guy?”

  He furrows his eyebrow. “Why would I be sorry for killing him?” His tone comes across like he’s utterly clueless. Like killing him was the obvious answer.

  “I…I don’t know what to say.” I look out the window. “I’m glad you want to protect me, but you can’t go around and do the killing anyone, anytime, anywhere type of shit.”

  “Actually, I can. And I will. You didn’t see the look on your face when that guy touched you. The repulsion on your face was enough for me to kill him. But to know that he did it, without your consent, and he was touching something that didn’t belong to him? Yeah, I’ll kill him time and time again, baby.”

  I stare at him, the sureness painted in his eyes, the protectiveness he has over me. The jealousy that hides behind those green eyes. The blood on his gray shirt. His short brown hair that’s grown out just enough for me to run my fingers through.

  How much he cares, when he has no reason to.

  I lean in, grabbing his face and pulling him to my lips. He groans in surprise, the sounds vibrating through my throat and into my chest. He slides his hands under my thighs, gripping tight and lifting me onto his lap.

 

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