Penance

by Kristin Harte

  “That’s a long story.”

  “Quid pro quo.”

  “You’d have to give me something deep for this one. It’s… Let’s just say, it doesn’t make me look good.”

  She chewed her lip as we walked through the vegetable section, grabbing a bag of salad and jar of dressing from the display, along with some precut broccoli. “I think my mom was a sex worker, though I never have been able to wrangle the truth on that.”

  I couldn’t even consider that a breadcrumb. It was an entire slice thrown at me at once. “That’s deep, all right. You think she participated in that profession all your life or…”

  “Participated in that profession?” Jinx raised her eyebrow—just the one—and gave me a saucy sort of grin. “That’s a really nice way to say turned tricks.”

  “I’m trying to tread carefully here.”

  “I can tell. And yeah, I think most of my life she was being paid for sex. Mostly with the bikers she hung around with. Now it’s your turn—tell me about this beef between your brother Bishop and you.”

  I’d set up the quid pro quo thing—it was only fair to follow the rules. “In high school, I talked his girl Anabeth into using with me, then almost killed her with an overdose of meth.”

  Jinx froze, eyes wide as she stared at me right there in front of the deli counter. “Whoa.”

  “Yeah. Do you like ham? I usually buy that for sandwiches.”

  “Sure. Ham is fine.” She frowned at the display of lunch meat as I made my request to the lady behind the counter, waiting until I was done to say, “So… She’s still angry about that, I assume.”

  “Actually, no, but my brother is.” I accepted the packet of meat—twice as much as I usually bought—with a nod. “Anabeth left Bishop not long after that incident without telling him anything, and they spent a lot of years apart. She only recently came back and told him what had happened.”

  “And he got mad at you for it.”

  “Punched me right in the face and told me to keep my addiction away from her.”

  Jinx grabbed a tub of vanilla yogurt as we rounded the dairy case. “But…you’re not using anymore.”

  “Haven’t since before I went in. My family seems to think I’ll crack and fall back into old habits at any moment, though.”

  “Do you worry you might?”

  “Of course. I’m not arrogant enough to say it’ll never happen, but deep down? I know it’ll never happen. I won’t let it.”

  “You don’t seem like the type to fall off the wagon again and again. You’re too—”

  “Crazy?”

  “Regimented. And strong. You’re so damn strong.”

  I grabbed her hand, stopping her. Tugging her closer. “I think the same thing about you, you know.”

  “I’m not strong. I’m just determined. There’s a difference.” She gave me a quick kiss, then dragged me down the cereal aisle. “Come on. Let’s get some Lucky Charms.”

  “I don’t eat cereal.”

  “I do, and Lucky Charms are my favorite.” She grabbed the box in question, smiling up at me. But her smile faltered as her eyes focused on something over my shoulder. I didn’t turn though because three guys had just come into the aisle from the far end, guys in jeans and leathers. In club colors.

  “Shit.”

  “You can say that again.” Jinx nodded behind me. “We’ve got company.”

  We sure the hell did. Three guys stood at the other end of the aisle, six altogether. Blocking us in. But it was the one in the middle on Jinx’s side that caught my attention. That made my stomach drop and my blood run cold. He looked familiar, and he was staring at Jinx as if he knew her.

  The same guy from the truck stop. And from the lot at The Jury Room the other night.

  He stopped a few feet away from us, looking Jinx up and down as he said, “What’s up, Luckless?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  JINX

  Dead. I was dead. This was it—I was going to be killed while standing in a grocery store aisle with a box of Lucky Charms in my hands. Fitting.

  Ravel leered my way, totally ignoring the man at my side. A gift, in my mind.

  “Prez wants to talk to you.”

  The squeal of another cart in the store sounded from what seemed like far away, which meant we had company. Not exactly calming considering it was probably some housewife with her kids in tow, but I’d take what I could get. No one wanted witnesses when they planned to murder someone. “I’ve got nothing to say to him.”

  “You might want to rethink that.” Ravel finally took notice of Finn, obviously playing some sort of game with me. “Who’s your friend?”

  Yeah, he could fuck right off if he thought I was playing with him in regard to Finn. “No one.”

  I immediately wished I could take those words back as Finn stiffened at my back. But I couldn’t—if Ravel or the other guys knew Finn was important to me, he’d be used against me so the prez could get what he wanted. But Ravel wasn’t dumb—no matter what act he put on. He must have noticed something because he smirked at Finn as that damn squeaky-wheeled cart grew louder.

  “You thought you mattered or something? I’ve heard how good this particular pussy is, but never trust your heart to a whore, son.”

  Finn didn’t miss a beat. “I’m not your son.”

  And I wasn’t letting this devolve into some sort of dick-measuring contest between the two of them. “You tell Prez I’m not interested in whatever he’s selling.”

  “He’s not selling, kid. He’s buying,” Ravel said, those dark eyes I knew far too well meeting mine once more. “I heard Parris was putting out feelers within the Soul Suckers for you—looking for the right price to bring you back to the Black Angels since Prez was pretty pissed when Zed lost you. Fucker lost his patch for that mistake.”

  Bastard deserved that after all he’d done, but I couldn’t say that. Not with Finn behind me. Not without seeming heartless and cruel. I was neither, but I also wasn’t one to care about someone who saw me as property and threw my life into a card game like nothing more than a hunk of plastic. Zed deserved to lose his patch. He also deserved a good, swift kick in the balls and a few nights on an ant hill covered in honey with some sort of spinal block in so he couldn’t move or scream. He deserved a lot. None of which I would admit to wishing for.

  But wish, I had.

  “Good,” I said, practically spitting the word. My hatred for Zed likely obvious to the men around me. “He didn’t deserve to wear those colors, not with how he went against orders. And Parris can do what he wants, not that it matters—he doesn’t own me.”

  Why the hell wasn’t that shopper getting another cart? The squeal seemed practically endless at this point. It grated on my nerves and made me jumpy. Like some sort of horror movie soundtrack playing through the store. Closer, louder, closer, louder.

  “You’re right,” Ravel said. “Parris doesn’t own you, no matter how many nights he spent in your momma’s bed. Prez owns you, or he did before Zed fucked up. He’s going to want his property back.” Ravel grinned at Finn. “Preferably unharmed and untouched, though he might accept payment for services rendered.”

  Finn just couldn’t keep his mouth shut after that one. “Unless Jinx herself asks me for payment, there will be no money changing hands.”

  “Didn’t you know?” Ravel asked, looking downright ready to strike. “Nothing is free with this girl. If she spread her legs for you, there was something she wanted in exchange. She might not ask for cash, but she’s a whore nonetheless.”

  “You smoke?” Finn asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

  Ravel looked almost as confused as I did. “No. Never have.”

  “Then for today, you live.”

  “Stop it, Finn.” I knocked him with my shoulder, feeling the tension running through his body against my back. Not wanting him to lose it and lunge at Ravel. Six against one was crappy odds. Even six against two—Finn and me fighting together—wasn’t likely to net
us a win. We were at the Black Angels’ mercy, and they knew that. This was so bad. I’d mentioned my mom to Finn, but I’d never told him how I ended up dealing with the Black Angels. Never explained how I went from college kid to biker bitch in the span of a few hours. I’d never wanted to tell him about the choices that had led me to be sold off like cattle.

  But what I wanted no longer mattered. “Look. If Prez—”

  Deacon suddenly appeared, pushing the buggy with the squeakiest wheel known to man and whistling something that sounded like a song from Mary Poppins. Big, strong, and seemingly oblivious to the standoff before him as he walked down the breakfast food aisle in his faded concert tee, jeans, and flip-flops. All eight of us stared as he strolled right past the bikers, focusing on the shelves. Shoes thwacking and cart screaming that irritating sound. Interrupting us without a word.

  That man had balls the size of cantaloupes.

  He also had one hell of a poker face. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

  Ravel glanced at his crew then asked, “What are you doing here, barkeep?”

  Deacon seemed completely unfazed by the fact that Ravel knew who he was. “Looking for some Pop-Tarts. Ah, there they are.” He grabbed a box off the shelf—strawberry frosted—making a big show of tossing the box in his noisy cart before smiling at Ravel. “Breakfast of champions. Y’all looking for something specific?”

  Ravel smirked my way, glancing over my shoulder as he said, “Yeah. Prez sent us to hunt down his chicken and some fish.”

  The chicken was me—I’d compared myself to cattle. Apparently, the prez didn’t see me as anything holding that much value. Fish… well, that could only be Finn. Ravel had just shown his hand, letting me know there was no saving Finn from whatever was coming from the Black Angels. No stopping it. His fate had been sealed, even if I went back willingly. Unless I dealt with the president directly.

  That made me sick to my stomach. “You’re a piece of shit.”

  “And you’re property of the Soul Suckers, though not for long. Consider yourself lucky that we caught up with you before they did. Not that you’ve ever been lucky.” Ravel glanced at Finn, his eyes dark and his scowl firmly in place. “Expect a visit from the prez, and you’d better be ready to do some serious groveling for your friend here. You know what’ll happen when Prez finds out someone was playing with his toys without his permission.”

  Yeah, I did. They’d kill Finn. Likely in front of me as a lesson since his death would be my fault. Something I couldn’t let happen.

  But it was Deacon who responded. “You tell your prez to come talk to me about anything related to Jinx. Her tie to the Soul Suckers has been severed, so she’s mine now.”

  His words hit me right in the gut, much like a sucker punch. Still, I kept my mouth shut.

  Ravel didn’t. “My boss isn’t going to like that.”

  If Deacon’s grin got any wider, he’d look like the Joker from Batman. “Put up or shut up. I put up what the Soul Suckers wanted and got Jinx in return. She’s no longer for sale. Period. Now get the fuck away from her before I call in my crew. No one wants to bloody up the cereal aisle. Tony the Tiger’s watching us.” He pointed at a box of Frosted Flakes, shaking his head solemnly. As if he was serious about a cartoon character monitoring us.

  Balls. The size of cantaloupes.

  Ravel practically growled. “I’ll see you soon, barkeep.”

  “Name’s Deacon. Come see me anytime, son.”

  He waved. The man waved at the bikers, practically shooing them out of the store. And it worked. They definitely didn’t like it, but they left. I couldn’t believe it. I also couldn’t stop shaking. I kept my back straight, though. Kept my eyes on Ravel and his crew as they headed for the exit. Kept Finn behind me and Deacon at my side as ideas and thoughts and plans ran through my head. Bought and sold again, even if it was to Deacon. This shit had to stop.

  Once the bikers had left, Finn turned and walked off down the aisle, leaving me alone with Deacon.

  Leaving me. I’d messed up. Big-time. But maybe that was for the best. Maybe—

  “Hey,” Deacon said, grabbing my arm before I could follow Finn. “You okay?”

  Nope. “I’m used to their threats, so I’m fine.”

  He frowned. “Is he?”

  Finn. I didn’t have an answer for that. Not really. “I don’t know. What did you mean—my tie has been severed?”

  Deacon took a deep breath, his eyes not quite meeting mine, then headed after Finn, dragging me with him. “We’ll talk about that another day. Just know that they no longer own you, if they ever did. Personally, I’m not a fan of the whole owning people thing, but your situation with them was a roadblock we had to take care of. So I took care of it. Now, I want to get you back to Justice. You two gave me a heart attack when I couldn’t reach you.”

  We caught up with Finn at the butcher counter. The man appeared fine—not calm, but solid. Unafraid. Though he wouldn’t even look at me.

  “You good, Finn?” Deacon asked.

  “I forgot my phone at home.”

  Deacon definitely seemed taken aback by that answer. I was as well. But of course, Finn would focus on that when things had gone so wrong. He’d obsess over the mistake he’d made and how that had thrown off his day. He liked order and despised chaos. I brought him nothing but chaos. And not the good kind.

  It took Deacon a full ten seconds to absorb Finn’s words and respond with, “Is everything all right?”

  Finn lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug, still purposefully not looking at me. “Yeah, I just didn’t get a chance to double-check things. It won’t happen again.”

  Somehow, that felt directed at me. My distractions wouldn’t happen again. We wouldn’t happen again. A statement much like the one I’d tried to play off with Ravel about Finn being no one. A wall to hide his hurt behind. I knew walls—knew how to build them, how to reinforce them, and how to block myself off from all other people with them. Finn had never blocked himself off from me. Not until right then. Not until I’d hurt him enough for him to feel the need to.

  My poor, sweet Finn. I’d broken him.

  “It was my fault,” I said, wishing Finn would at least look at me. At least acknowledge my existence. “I’ve been upsetting his routines for days.”

  “But you two are okay?” Deacon asked, looking from Finn to me and back again. “No trouble out at the house?”

  “No trouble,” Finn replied, finally glancing my way. I’d never seen his blue-gray eyes so dead. So…stormy. A hurricane building off the coast, bearing down on land without mercy. A thunderstorm preparing to terrify all who lay in its path. I’d really hurt him.

  A fact that might just play into my hands.

  “Yeah, no trouble. Are we going to be able to come back to work soon?”

  Deacon stared at me, his face stoic but his eyes—they betrayed him. He didn’t believe our story, didn’t buy that things were fine. His trust in me was gone. “Not until we take care of the threat and run the Soul Suckers out of town.”

  Wonderful. “Are you planning on letting us in on what’s going on with that?”

  “Not in the least, but plans are in motion.”

  Jerk. “Fine. Then we hole up for a few more days.”

  Finn nodded. “Sounds like it. Grab your cereal, Jinx. I’m ready to go home.”

  That was a dismissal if I’d ever heard one. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll meet you up front.”

  I grabbed our abandoned cart from the cereal aisle, then headed toward the checkout lanes. Stopping in the aisle with cleaners and household hardware supplies to grab one extra thing. Something I needed if I was going to enact the plan weaving itself together in my head. If I was going to save Finn from having to face the Black Angels head on. I tucked the package into my waistband and under my shirt, figuring petty shoplifting was better than trying to explain to Finn why I needed it. Not that he’d listen to me in his current mood anyway.

  The drive home was one long exe
rcise in silence and trying hard not to break down. I wanted to talk to him, to tell him how I’d been trying to protect him by saying he was no one. But I bit my tongue and thought through my plan over and over again. All my knowledge of the Black Angels—and specifically of their president, a man who went by the road name Edge when he wasn’t being called Prez—coming together to help me figure out the best way out of this mess. For Finn more than for me. This was how things needed to be. This was the rug being pulled out from under me as I’d expected. Finn would be mad for a while, but that would fade. He’d forget about me.

  It was my job to make sure Ravel would forget about him too.

  Chapter Eighteen

  FINN

  No one.

  I was no one.

  Deep down, I knew Jinx had been fronting when she’d said that, but the words still gutted me. Right there in front of danger, she hadn’t let me help her. Hadn’t even pretended to need me. I’d been rendered useless by her, and those two words had cemented that fact. No one. I had no idea how to get over that, not without a serious conversation. One I wasn’t up to having yet.

  “I need to take a shower.” I tucked the Lucky Charms she’d wanted—the cereal she’d been holding while that asshole had called her a whore—into the cabinet, all groceries put away. Kitchen back to rights. Life in complete chaos. I hadn’t said a word since we’d left Rock Falls, so it shouldn’t have surprised me that she jumped at the sound of my voice. Still sucked, though. I didn’t want to be the one to scare her. Not ever.

  “Sure. Sounds good.” Jinx walked out of the kitchen without a look back, her shoulders stiff and her head up. Whether she was mad or hurt, I couldn’t tell, but I’d fix it. I just needed a few minutes to get my head on straight. To figure out what to do about this whole situation and how to reassure Jinx that I could take care of her. That I wanted to be more than no one. That she definitely was to me.