Vengeful Bastard: A Hero Club Novel

by Nicole Dykes

  There was no effort. No lines.

  And it worked.

  I’ve been off my game since Christmas. I cringe, thinking about Christmas Eve and the large family event I stupidly attended.

  “I wasn’t kidding about starving. Let’s go.”

  I snap back to reality and pull a shirt over my head, leading Adele down the stairs and to the front door of my house.

  I’ve come a long way from the street kid I once was, living only a few blocks from my favorite park in the heart of the Johnson County suburbs. I am the definition of a sellout.

  I pull open the door after grabbing my car keys and almost have a fucking heart attack when I nearly crash right into Rhys. Big motherfucker that he is, he takes up the entire doorway.

  “Rhys?”

  “Hey.”

  Not a lot of words come from the guy. “What are you doing here?”

  He used to live with me, but recently moved into the apartment above the tattoo shop where he works. “My cellphone here?”

  I chuckle. Rhys is a freak of nature. He’s not big on technology. “You haven’t been here for three days. If it is, how the hell did you just now realize it was gone?”

  “Guess I don’t rely on a machine like you do, fucker. Is it here or not?”

  Adele chuckles from behind me, and only then does Rhys realize I’m not alone. His eyes meet mine with a question. It is really fucking weird for me to have a girl at my house in the morning. I move out of the way, letting Rhys walk in and gesture toward the living room. “Your guess is as good as mine.” I nod my head toward the Aussie stranger. “This is Adele.”

  He nods. “I know.”

  “What?”

  I turn to Adele, who’s smiling as if she knows a secret I don’t. “The quiet stranger.”

  Again with the “a” sound at the end of the word. “How the hell do you know, Rhys?”

  “Is that his name?” She looks satisfied with herself, and I’m beyond fucking confused. She looks over at Rhys, who has started to rummage around my living room, going through the couch cushions. “I’m not sure I can say.”

  “She was at a meeting last night.”

  A meeting? “AA?”

  She nods her head, no shame on her pretty face. “That’s right. Addict here, at your service.”

  Rhys has struggled with addiction since we were twelve. He’s been through a lot of bad shit in his life. He frequents meetings, but this stranger? She doesn’t seem nearly as dark as my buddy Rhys. “I met you in a bar.”

  Rhys looks up, but there’s no judgment on his face. He’s not one to give a damn about what others do. She takes a deep breath, her eyes on Rhys. “I had a moment of weakness, but I didn’t slip.”

  Rhys finds his phone and tucks it in his pocket, walking back to us. “I wouldn’t care if you did. I’m not your keeper.”

  “Isn’t that part of the meetings. I’m supposed to be able to rely on you?”

  “I’m not your sponsor.”

  He’s an asshole. But so am I. Adele just laughs. “Fair enough, mate.”

  “You were in a bar last night?” Rhys, however, is my keeper. And I’m his.

  Although, I’m not an addict. “Yeah, I went by the shop to see if you wanted to hang and you weren’t there. Figured you were at a meeting so I went by your usual, and again, you weren’t there.”

  “Must have just missed me.”

  Something is going on with my best friend, but I’m pretty sure he’s not using again. “I guess so, so I went to the bar which, by the way, it’s pretty fucked up your meeting is two blocks from a bar.”

  “Keeps things interesting.”

  I chuckle at that and give his shoulder a pat, which is the only sort of hug he allows. Rhys hates to be touched.

  “I guess so. You want to grab breakfast?”

  “Nah, I gotta get to work.” He nods to Adele. “Take care.”

  “You too, handsome.”

  Rhys leaves, and Adele turns to me. “Not a man of many words, that one.”

  “No. He’s not.”

  “Breakfast?”

  We walk out to my car, and I drive us to the coffee house not far from my place. We go in, order, I pay, and then we do something I rarely do with women.

  We talk.

  “So, you’re an addict?”

  She takes a drink. “We all have our vices.”

  “Agreed.”

  “What’s yours?” I smile, with an animalistic grin she understands immediately. “Ah, yes. Pussy.”

  “There’s no better vice.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “And you?”

  For the first time this morning, I see a crack in her demeanor. “Anything to numb the pain.”

  I swallow, my eyes darting to hers. “I get that.”

  She smiles. “Do you believe in soulmates?” Fuck. My eyes must give away my first thought and the panic I feel because she laughs at my response. “Not lovers. I mean friends, just people in general who were meant to be in each others’ lives.”

  “Yes.” I don’t have to think about my answer. Quinn, Rhys, Logan. They were all supposed to be in my life.

  “Me too. For whatever reason, Sean Bennett, I think we were both supposed to be in that bar last night.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I’m not sure about that part, but I’m rarely wrong about these things.”

  I fight the smile. For whatever reason, I think she’s right.

  “So, what now that you aren’t starving?”

  Adele smiles as we walk out of the café onto the crowded sidewalk. I breathe in the fresh air, the coffee and food fighting my slight hangover as I listen to her reply. “Well, I think I might stick around for a day or two.”

  Surprisingly, that doesn’t make me panic like I’d expect. “Yeah? Not on a tight deadline?”

  “Not really.”

  “Where are you headed anyway?”

  “Iowa.”

  I turn to her, trying to see if she’s fucking with me. “Iowa? And I thought traveling from California to Kansas was weird.”

  “Bite your tongue. I can’t wait to get there.” She shrugs. “Although, the adventurous part of me apparently can because I really am considering staying here for a couple of days.” She shrugs playfully. “Maybe learn a little more about you and Mr. Silent Type.”

  “You gonna try to fuck Rhys too?”

  She laughs at that. “Nah, I’ve done the bad-boy, addict type. I’m over that phase.” She looks at my car. “Where are you headed now?”

  This is completely insane. I should be itching to ditch her, but the charming stranger is a nice distraction. “I’m not sure. Maybe head to my studio for a bit.”

  “Now that sounds fun!”

  I study her and hit unlock on my car. “Okay, Aussie. You have my interest piqued.”

  She laughs as I open the passenger side door and motion for her to climb in. The drive to my downtown studio isn’t long, considering it’s later in the morning and most of the rush hour traffic has died down. I open the metal door to my studio, and Adele walks inside, looking around in wonder, which sends a shot of pride to my chest.

  “These are all yours?”

  I beam happily as I look around at the photos displayed in the large studio loft. To pay the bills, I take bullshit family photos, but this is my real passion. Photos shot in real life, day-to-day moments of the city and the quietness of nature. I’ve been gaining attention, even been mentioned in a couple of local art magazines as an up-and-comer in the photography game. “Yes.”

  She stops in front of a picture I took on the city bus of a young mother in tattered shoes, her hair in a haphazard bun, a baby asleep on her chest with a toddler resting in the crook of her arm, and her head laid back against the seat. It captures what I imagine is a real mother, exhausted to her core but clinging to her children.

  I won an award for that photo a couple of months ago.

  “This is breathtaking,
Sean.”

  Normally, I would spin this into her clothes falling off. But somehow, even though we’ve had sex and she’s absolutely gorgeous, I don’t feel a strong sexual attraction to her.

  “Thanks.”

  “The beauty that can be captured with a camera is unfathomable.”

  “What is it that you do?”

  She laughs at that, but it’s sad as she moves to the next photo. “I was working for an accounting firm.”

  Yawn. Just the thought of that puts me to sleep, and it seems to have the same impact on her. “Was?”

  “I quit last week.”

  “Hence the spontaneous road trip?”

  She stands in front of a nature still I took last summer on a trip with Rhys to see our friends Logan and Quinn in Nashville. “Yes, I suppose.”

  “Something tells me there’s more to this story.”

  She laughs. “Interested in my backstory, huh? So different from the man I met last night? Could this be the real you?” Her eyes narrow and focus on me. “Or was he?”

  “I’m not really sure who you met last night.”

  “Well, the man last night was quite charming—the tall, dark, and handsome Casanova type.”

  I stand up straight. “Sounds like me.”

  Her pretty eyes roll as she shakes her head and moves down the line of photos, taking time to study each of them. “You were arrogant, certain you could get me into bed.”

  I grab my camera and start to sift through photos. “Seems I was right.”

  “True, but I was fairly easy prey last night.”

  That gets my attention, and I look up. “You told Rhys you didn’t slip.”

  “I wasn’t drunk. I went there to do just that though, bored with sobriety.”

  I almost feel guilty. She was clearly in a vulnerable place last night. “What made you stop?”

  Her heels click on the ground as she moves to stand before me. “You. You asked me if I believed in fate.”

  I need new lines. “And you do?”

  “I didn’t until that moment. But the line was so damn corny, it made me laugh and took me to a different level.”

  “Ouch.”

  She laughs again. “I decided sex with a stranger would be better than messing up my sobriety. And to be fair, you didn’t seem on your game last night, bored with your own pick-up line. You were most definitely in your own vulnerable state.”

  Christ, I don’t want to talk about feelings. “The vulnerable thing works for you?”

  “That, mixed with the cocky asshole, yes.” She smiles, looking down at the picture of a couple with their new baby. It’s posed. Fake.

  “So, what’s in Iowa?”

  She swallows, her slender throat moving with the motion. “My grandmother’s house where my mum grew up.”

  “Your mother didn’t come with you?”

  Her eyes gloss over with a watery sadness. “She died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She takes a deep breath, one that seems to give her strength because she looks more sure of herself now. “I need to go there. I want to feel close to her. My grandmother left the house to her, and then it went to my older brother, Chance, when she passed.”

  “And he’s okay with your trip?”

  “He wasn’t thrilled about me going alone.”

  “Can’t blame him.”

  “I needed to do this for myself. I need to go there.”

  I nod, searching through the pictures, trying to find the decent ones. “Sort of a ‘back to your roots’ thing?”

  She nods her head. “Exactly.”

  “Where’s your car, by the way? I remember you driving my car back to my house last night.”

  “I’m taking my trip by bus.”

  “Damn. Old school.”

  She laughs at that. “I don’t mind the bus.”

  I left the door to the studio open, and Rhys blazes in, knowing he doesn’t need an invite but totally interrupting our conversation. “Sean, we have to talk.” His eyes dart to Adele. “You’re still here?”

  “I just can’t seem to part with your friend.”

  She’s smiling. Rhys, of course isn’t. He doesn’t smile often, but when he does, it’s always slight. His eyes meet mine, speaking in a code, asking if I’m okay or if this chick has moved to stalker-status. I swear he’s looking for some sort of weapon she’s holding on me. I laugh it off. “I had to hear her story.” I shrug. “Call it boredom.”

  He looks irritated, but that’s also just his face, and then he shakes it off. “Okay. We have a problem.”

  I groan. I’m not interested in more problems.

  My entire life has been one problem after another, full of drama and stress. I’m looking for a little easy for once.

  “Can it wait? Adele here was just telling me about her cross-country trip on a bus.”

  Rhys barely registers her, and I know whatever he has to tell me is really going to fuck up my good mood.

  “No. Logan needs a favor.”

  Well, fuck. If it’s for Logan, I know, without a doubt, we’re going to do it.

  “Okay, Rhys. Let’s hear it. What’s up?” I ask as Adele moves to peruse my studio, giving us some space.

  “Logan called me today. Apparently, Quinn has a show in Chicago this weekend.”

  What the hell, Rhys? “That sounds like good news, not a problem.”

  “Nah, it’s a big-ass problem.” I stare at him, waiting for more of an explanation. Quinn is the most talented singer and guitarist I’ve ever heard. She and Logan moved to Nashville where she’s attending college, but she’s had nonstop gigs in that town since. Rhys runs his tattooed left hand through his hair, seriously stressed the fuck out. “She wants us there.”

  I shrug and start looking through the pictures on my camera again. “Okay. So, we’ll go. Chicago isn’t that far.”

  “He offered to pay for the flight, but I told him to fuck off.”

  I smile. That’s not surprising at all. Rhys has had a rough road and only just started a steady job at Chris’s tattoo shop. He hasn’t saved enough for a flight, and Rhys doesn’t do charity. “So, we’re driving?”

  He gives a curt nod.

  “I’m still not seeing the problem.” My eyes lift to look at his. “What the hell am I missing?”

  “Apparently, Quinn made some friends.”

  My eyes narrow, Rhys isn’t one to beat around the bush. “Who?”

  “Melody and Blair.”

  I’m pretty sure my jaw just dropped as Adele reaches my side, looking at Rhys. “Melody, did you say?”

  I turn to look at her. Why the hell does she seem so damn amused? I haven’t said a word about Melody. Rhys meets my eyes to answer. “Yes, and Blair.”

  “What the hell, Rhys? Of all people, why would Quinn befriend those two? They don’t live in Nashville.”

  His large, stocky shoulders shrug upward. “I have no fucking clue. I know Logan and Blair kept in touch. I guess, when you’re friends with one, you’re automatically friends with the other.”

  That is messed-up. Logan used to fuck Blair. He went to the fancy, rich-kid school she and Melody attended when he moved in with his father. Now his girl, Quinn, is friends with them?

  I swallow what feels like thick bile, but I think it’s absolute terror. “How is Quinn being friends with Melody and Blair our problem?”

  His jaw ticks, and I know this isn’t good. “Quinn wants them there too.”

  Fuck. I haven’t seen Melody since Christmas, several months ago. And I really don’t want to again. It’s clear she’s not the same hopeful, naive teenager she was when we met. She hates my guts and rightfully so. “So? Is the show a small, intimate one? Or will there be plenty of people to block us from their wrath?”

  Blair isn’t a fan of mine either.

  “It’s supposed to be a large show. That’s not the problem.” Yeah, I had a feeling. “They’re insisting on a road trip of their own.”

  He has to be messin
g with me. “Those two? No fucking way.” I didn’t see that coming, not at all.

  “Yes, for the experience or some shit.”

  These girls are used to first-class and room service. “Okay, so they aren’t even going to make it to Chicago. No worries.”

  His head shakes from side to side. And I know I’m fucked, I just don’t know how fucked until he opens his mouth. “I told Logan they could go with us.”

  Adele looks entirely too pleased as she leans against the wooden table I use as a desk. “Oh, the plot thickens.”

  I turn to her, horrified, but don’t have the energy to ask why she is so invested. I focus on Rhys. “What the fuck? Why would you do that?”

  “Logan’s worried about them. He should be worried about Quinn. This is huge for her and her career.”

  Of course. It always goes back to Quinn for Rhys. They dated for a long time after Logan took off when we were kids. We found out later that Logan’s real father was granted custody of him, and he moved to the good life, leaving us all bitter and angry. But now Quinn and Logan are together, and Rhys was left to watch the one who got away from afar.

  “Rhys—”

  “He’s not wrong to worry. They’ll fucking die on their own.”

  “So, they can fucking fly. This isn’t our problem.”

  “I’m making it our problem.” His back straightens, and his chest puffs out, telling me he isn’t backing down.

  “Then you three have fun. I’m not doing this.”

  “Pussy,” he sneers, and my eyes narrow. He knows I hate that word when it’s used in a dare.

  Neither of us can back down from a challenge.

  I walk to him, our inflated chests nearly touching. I have few inches on the fucker height-wise, but he’s broader. It would be a fair match.

  “I have an idea.” We both turn to look at Adele who’s now standing beside us.

  “What?” I ask but stay focused on Rhys, still pissed off. I can’t believe Rhys would agree to this.

  “I could go too.” I turn to look at her now.

  “What?”

  She shrugs. “Iowa is on the way. I’m already going there. I could serve as a buffer.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Rhys glares, not liking the idea. He doesn’t trust strangers.

  “Just a traveler, mate.” She flashes a bright smile his way and then turns to me, placing her hand on my shoulder. “It makes sense, right?”