I stripped down in the bathroom and turned on the shower. Hanging my head and letting the hot water pound my shoulders. Letting my mind wander as I tried to look at this thing between Jinx and me with logic. I liked her. I was attracted to her for sure. I cared for her and wanted to take care of her. I also wanted her in my bed every night, wanted her feet pressing between my thighs when she got cold. Wanted to see her smile when I added cheese to her eggs and hear her laugh when something funny happened in those movies she loved so much. I wanted all of her. The broken bits too.
I wanted to heal her and have her be the balm for my soul that I needed.
I wanted forever. Because I loved her.
“Motherfucker,” I hissed, turning off the water and jumping out of the shower as the need to tell her, to grab her and apologize for being an idiot and make amends pushed me to move hastily. Fuck drying off. Fuck cleaning up after myself. My girl was out there hurt and needing me, and I couldn’t stand that thought.
“Jinx,” I yelled as I rushed into the kitchen. No dice. I turned and headed for the living room, dread pushing down on my heart. Empty as well. “Jinx.”
No answer. In fact, the house was silent. Almost eerily so. I was headed for the bedroom again when I noticed something out of place. A piece of white paper on the little table by the front door.
A note.
I approached it slowly, cautiously. Knowing what it was before I reached it. Before I saw the black slashes and loops across the pristine surface. Before I read the words that opened up a gaping hole in my gut.
I’m sorry, but this won’t work. I’ll get your truck back to you.
Gone. Left. Took my truck and everything as if we were somehow living in an old country song. But that didn’t matter, what did was that she’d taken my heart with her. I hadn’t been enough for her, so she’d left me behind.
I stumbled my way to the kitchen table and plopped into a chair, fighting hard to hold back the hurt. I wanted to drink, wanted to get high and erase all these emotions. Wanted the numbness I remembered from before.
Before…
When I couldn’t think of anything except where I’d get my next hit.
When nothing really hurt because the drugs numbed out the world.
I’d have done anything to be numb again.
I reached for my phone—fucking thing that had become a symbol of my screwed-up day—and tapped a few times to pull up a number. A few times more to connect and put the call on speaker. And then I waited.
One ring.
Two.
Just a little longer.
Three.
Maybe not. Maybe I’d go to voice mail. Maybe—
On the fourth ring, I heard the click of the call connecting. “Finn? What’s wrong?”
My brother’s voice was the only thing I could hold on to at that moment. The only thing that could keep me grounded. “I want to use.”
Elijah wasn’t my sponsor, he wasn’t my addiction counselor, and he wasn’t my parole officer. What he was surpassed all of those. He was my lifeline to past me, the Finn before the drugs. The responsible guy who’d wanted to go to school and earn a degree and do something with his life. That guy was dead—buried under guilt and shame and bad decisions—but Elijah remembered. He would always help me regain whatever little part of past me I needed. And right then, I needed his strength.
“Hang on.” Elijah whispered words away from the phone—likely excusing himself from something far more important than I would ever do—and then came back to me with a breathy, “What’s going on?”
What was going on? I wanted to use, yes. Wanted to get high and numb, totally. But that wasn’t the right answer. Back when I was detoxing and trying to find my way through the drugs, a fellow inmate—one who’d been sober longer than I’d been using—took me under his wing. Had seen me struggling and chose to shore me up. He’d asked me one question—what’s your problem? When I’d tried to tell him about my drug use and my cravings, he’d just shaken his head.
“That’s not your problem, boy. That’s just a side effect. What’s your real problem?”
It had taken me a long time to figure that out. Loneliness. In a family as large as mine, it hadn’t even seemed possible, but I had always been buried behind Alder and Bishop, lost the youngest status to Lainie—the only girl and therefore the doted-on princess—and had been the twin to the family clown. I’d never stood out, never had a place of my own. I’d been one of the Kennards, and that had led me to make some really bad decisions on the path to finding attention.
So today, wanting to use wasn’t my problem. It was the side effect.
What was going on? Well, there was only one answer. “I think I fell in love.”
Elijah was silent for more seconds than was comfortable. “With the girl, the one from the bar.”
“Yeah. The one who’s been staying with me.” I couldn’t say her name. I tried, but it got stuck in my throat. Got caught up as pain ripped through my chest again.
“Okay,” Elijah said, drawing out the word. “So why—”
“She left.”
“Oh.”
Yeah. One syllable. What else could he say? The big, bad lawyer speechless struck me as funny, though. At least until I thought about that—big, bad lawyer. Shit. “You were probably busy at work. I’m sorry to bother you like this—”
“You got someone with you there? Alder or Bishop or Deacon, maybe?”
“No. It’s okay, though. I’ll track someone down to hang with. I won’t use.”
“Four hours, man. I can be there in four hours. I just need to know you’ll be okay while I’m on my way.”
Guilt burned, adding to my pain. Elijah had a big job to do, an important one. He had a life in Denver that I didn’t want to be in the way of. “Don’t come. You don’t have to do that.”
“Fuck you.” The slam of what had to be a car door sounded in the background, my brother practically growling that curse. “You think I’m about to leave you alone when it’s the first time you’ve ever reached out to me for help like this? I’m already driving.”
I…wasn’t sure what to say. Too lost in my own thoughts. Was it really the only time I’d reached out to him? I called him every day, spoke to him on the phone more than I spoke to anyone in person. That was me reaching out for help—for stability and comfort. I’d been solid in my sobriety since I’d gotten out of prison, though. Had never wanted to use as bad as I did in that moment. Even after Anabeth had come back and stirred up all those memories, after Bishop had punched me in the face for what had happened between us all those years ago, I hadn’t wanted to be numb.
Today was different, I’d give him that. Today, I wanted to get high and pretend the world around me didn’t exist anymore. Today was a struggle. “You don’t have to come here, though. I can call Alder. I will…I’ll call Alder. He’ll come over and stay with me.”
“Alder isn’t the one you called first, though. I was, so I’m coming.”
“People need you.”
“You need me, and you’re my brother. You outrank them.”
“I shouldn’t.”
Elijah was silent for a long moment, the only sound coming through the speaker the rumble of the engine in his fancy car. The one he’d gotten right after he’d started his own practice. The one he’d bought with the money he made defending people who’d been wrongly accused or convicted. Like I had been. Trying to help people the way he hadn’t been able to help me.
If my old friend from prison had asked Elijah what his problem was, my brother would likely say he worked too hard. But that wasn’t the problem—that was the side effect. Elijah’s problem was wrapped up in my imprisonment. Was a giant ball of guilt sitting heavy on his shoulders. I knew that feeling. Knew that ball well. Mine may have moved into place for different reasons, but we both carried the burden of them. We both suffered.
Elijah broke the silence, issuing a quiet, “Finn?”
“Yeah?”
“Talk to me.”
I sat back, leaning against the wall. Not sure when I’d dropped to the floor in the first place, but feeling right in that spot. “About what?”
“The girl. Tell me about the girl.”
Jinx. I sighed. “It’s sort of a long story.”
“We’ve got four hours.”
Yeah, we did.
“Her name is Jinx.”
Chapter Nineteen
JINX
It wasn’t hard to find the clubs once I made it back to Rock Falls. Bikers were everywhere—they practically swarmed the small town like ants. The weather hadn’t warmed up much, so most of them wore their winter riding gear. Once the snow really fell, they’d all be stuck in cars and trucks. Cages, they’d call them. These guys weren’t hobby riders—they were hard-core bikers. A little cold wouldn’t stop them from staying on two wheels.
There were two different crews in town, Soul Suckers and Black Angels, both national clubs with members wearing different house patches. Arizona, Colorado, Utah, Nevada—I saw indications of bikers from many places. Guys from all over the southwest had come to town, it seemed. That fact might make my job harder, but I had to try.
I headed for what I figured was the safer of the two clubs, looking for the patch that indicated they were from my hometown. The guys who were supposedly Parris’ brothers. The ones who would likely kill me at some point along the way. The Black Angels of Las Vegas.
Surprisingly, I found them without too much trouble. A small group of Vegas Angels stood in an abandoned fast-food joint’s parking lot, surrounding their bikes, drinking what had to be hot coffee from the truck stop next door. The same one where Finn had taken me for an ice cream sundae. Where he’d first held my hand. That seemed like a lifetime ago.
No time to worry about the past. I pulled into the lot, drawing every bit of attention from the crew. Good. Time to get this over with.
“Hey,” I said to the Vegas bikers as soon as I had the window rolled down. “Where’s Edge staying?”
One guy stepped forward—road name Knuckles. “What are you doing out here, Luckless?”
That was a question even I couldn’t really answer. “I need Edge. You know where he is?”
Knuckles locked eyes with me, looking almost wary. But Edge—the president of the Vegas chapter of the Black Angels—had likely told all his guys to keep an eye out for me. Knuckles knew better than to deny the prez what he wanted.
And what he wanted was me. Always.
“Nash and the prospect here can take you in,” Knuckles said before turning his back on me to talk to the other guys. That was fine with me. I rolled up the window and sat in the warm truck, waiting. Biding my time and doing my best not to throw up all over myself. This was my decision. My way to help Finn and the rest of the town of Justice. My sacrifice. But this time—almost a year after I’d attempted to do the same thing for my mom—I knew exactly what that sacrifice entailed.
The two Black Angels started their bikes and headed out of the lot, one riding ahead of me and one behind. Trapping me between them, of course. A few turns, a few stretches of blacktop with nothing around but nature, and a camp appeared in front of me. Lots of recreational trailers, mostly those pop-up ones, small wooden structures that had to be rentable cabins, and bikes of all types littered a piece of land with a stunning mountain view as a backdrop. Beer cans and whiskey bottles were piled high at the side of the entrance road, right beside a boulder proclaiming this some sort of park. Protected land. The club had taken it over and trashed it right there under the glory of nature. Typical.
“Jinxy girl. Such a surprise. Where ya been?” Tiny, the huge, body-building enforcer of the Vegas Black Angels, strolled over, probably having known I was coming from the time I hit the Rock Falls city line. No way was he actually surprised to see me. I knew better than not to play his games, though. He’d put chains on me for less.
“Playing barkeep over in Justice. Is Edge around?”
Tiny looked me up and down, considering. Likely examining the handiwork of the scars Edge had left me. The slashes and lines Finn had thought were self-inflicted. The ones I definitely hadn’t done myself and had made sure to show off for this particular trip. Tiny was probably hoping he’d get a chance to see me bleed and scream again. That was fine—let him look. Let him see those marks. Didn’t matter. I’d take them all over again if I had to, and I had a feeling I was going to have to.
“He’s not in the greatest of moods,” Tiny said, surprising me for the first time since I’d left Finn’s house. Tiny had never warned me when he was going to hurt me or when Edge had been in one of his moods. He’d never even hinted at what was to come until I was trapped in the middle of it. That comment about Edge’s mood was a warning if ever I’d heard one, but I couldn’t turn around now. Couldn’t give up. I had one shot at making things right, and I needed to take it before I lost my nerve.
“I can handle him.”
“Yeah, you can. But it’s likely going to hurt.”
Not the first time. “Just tell me where he is.”
He nodded toward a trailer—a big, drivable unit with extendable parts pulled out and what looked like a picnic table sitting outside of it. As if this were some sort of family vacation. I headed that way, fighting to keep my breathing smooth and my heart from thumping out of my chest. I kept picturing Finn—all serious and sweet, kind and caring. I didn’t want to, didn’t want to bring such a happy thought into this hell, but he was the only way I’d make it through this. Knowing my sacrifice was for him.
I knocked twice when I reached the trailer, not even giving myself time to wait. Just act. Don’t think.
“Well, what do you know,” Edge said as soon as he came strolling to the door. He wore a faded pair of jeans that hung loosely from his hips, likely because he hadn’t buttoned them, and nothing else. Bare feet padded across the carpet, and his muscles bunched and pulled as he opened the screen door for me. “Jinx has found her way home.”
Home, my ass. “I want to talk to you.”
“Come on in, then, darling. Make yourself comfortable.” I brushed past him, stepping up into the trailer and heading for the back. I knew the setup of these things—knew where the bedroom area was. Knew exactly where I needed to be. This negotiation was going to take place where Edge was most vulnerable whether he liked it or not.
A blonde lay across one of the couches in what must have been considered the living space. I paid her no mind, at least not until Edge did.
“Shelly, go on back to Tiny now. We can play some more later.”
“But I thought we were going to get high and fuck,” she said, her voice soft and almost whiny. Her craving for the drugs Edge had obviously been denying her clear as day. He did love to make women beg for what they needed.
“Tiny will take care of you. Tell him I said to give you the good stuff and then treat that pussy real nice.” He smacked her on the ass twice as she headed for the door, though that didn’t stop her from throwing a serious glare my way. Whatever. She didn’t have any scars yet—that bitch didn’t even know what would be coming for her if Edge decided to claim her.
“You in some sort of hurry, Jinx?” Edge asked when I’d passed into the bedroom. Yeah, I was, but only because this needed to be done. This deal needed to be locked down.
I sat down on the bed, and I turned my arms just so. Just the way he liked me to so he could see the burn marks from his cigarettes. The ones he’d been giving me for almost a year. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”
“You.” He grinned and slithered closer. “Have a proposition. For me?”
“Yeah, and I think you’re going to want to pay close attention to it.”
“Well, I’m all ears. Hit me.”
I wished. “I’m offering the one thing you’ve never been able to get from me. The one thing you’ve been trying to get since I first walked into your club. What you’ve lied and cheated and manipulated to get, not that I ever gave it up.”
“
I’ve had that pussy, Jinx.”
My stomach lurched at his crass words, but he wasn’t wrong. He’d had me before—had coerced me into letting him take what he wanted in exchange for what I needed. And I was about to make a similar deal, but on a much bigger and more dangerous scale. “I’m not talking sex. Sex is simple—you can get sex anywhere. I’m talking more.”
If I hadn’t studied him as long as I had, hadn’t made sure to learn everything I could about him over my year with his club, I wouldn’t have noticed the tic in his jaw. The way his eyes sharpened and his nostrils flared slightly. He was interested—far more than he wanted to let on. “I’m listening.”
This is it. No turning back now. “I’ll give you my surrender.”
He blinked, staring. A single muscle twitching in his jaw the only sign he’d even heard me, but I knew he had. Knew this was just what he wanted. Me…not fighting back. At his mercy voluntarily. Unlike what he’d done to most women around the club, he’d never been able to break me, and I knew it ate at him. I knew this—Edge knew this as well. For a guy who loved control as much as he did, I was offering him his grandest wish. To control the one thing that had been uncontrollable.
No way was he turning me down. “What’s your price?”
“The Black Angels go home. All of them leave Justice and the people there alone, no matter what the Soul Suckers ask you for.”
“That’s a steep cost, Jinx. I expected you to ask me to find your mom for you. That’s all you’ve wanted since you came walking into my club a year ago.”
He was partially right. That had been all I’d wanted. That’s why I’d come back into the club world after avoiding it for so long. Why I’d been hanging around for the past year, letting them do whatever they wanted to me in exchange for information. To find out what had happened to my mom. But I already knew her fate—always had—I’d just spent a long year refusing to believe it. “I know my mom’s dead. I also know Ravel probably killed her with your approval. She’s not what I want in the exchange.”
He nodded all slow and deliberate. Taking up time. Likely trying to figure out a way he could get more from me. “Did you come with a backup deal? With something more to negotiate with in case I don’t see this as even?”
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