by Bella Jewel
“Wanted to see if you and”—his eyes move back to Preston—“him want to come to breakfast.”
He’s making amends.
Most people would probably shut the door in his face and say they’re still not ready to forgive him, but this is the one and only chance my dad will give. I know better by now than to not take it.
“Sure,” I say.
“Meet us downstairs whenever you’re ready.” He turns his back to me.
“Daddy?” I call.
He looks back to me.
“Thanks.”
He nods, but I can still see he’s a little pissed at me. Fair enough? I’m still a little pissed at him, but we’re here and we’re working past it. That’s a damned good start.
When he’s gone, I turn to Preston who is getting dressed already, a smile on his face. “Is that a good sign?”
I look back to where my father was standing. It could be a good thing, if he made the choice to do it, but if my mom made him then no . . . it could make things a whole lot worse. I’m only praying that he made the choice and we can go back to getting along. I want them to give Preston a chance, because truthfully, if I’m being honest with myself, if they don’t give him a chance I’m not sure how hard I’ll fight for him, and that scares me.
I push the thought down quickly.
“Yeah,” I say softly, finally answering him. “I hope so.”
He walks over and puts an arm around my waist, kissing my temple. “It’ll all be okay.”
I exhale loudly. “I don’t honestly know what’s okay and what isn’t right now, but if you’re willing then so am I.”
He lets me go and moves across the room towards his suitcase. “I’m more than willing. What should I wear?”
He pulls out a V-neck shirt and I inwardly cringe. He shouldn’t be ashamed of who he is, by any means, but I know exactly how he’ll be treated if he wears a maroon V-neck to breakfast.
“Do you trust me?” I ask, moving in to stand beside him.
“Course.”
“Then wear this,” I reach into his suitcase and pull out a plain black tee.
“I sleep in that,” he frowns.
God.
“Yeah, but it’s casual and not over the top. I don’t want any more drama for you, Preston.” Or myself.
“All right, I trust you.”
He hesitantly takes the shirt and stares at it as if it’s a snake that’ll leap up and bite him. I give him a reassuring smile when he looks to me, and he disappears into the bathroom to get ready. He returns ten minutes later actually looking . . . normal. He’s wearing a pair of denim jeans and combined with the simple black top, he actually looks like a casual man, not a powerful one.
“You look really good like that,” I say, walking up and placing my hands on either side of his firm middle.
“You think?”
I nod. “I most certainly do.”
“Well then, are you ready for this?”
I stare down at the dress I put on, casual, calm, not revealing, then back up at the man staring at me. “As I’ll ever be.”
That’s a damned lie, but it’s a lie I’m keeping to myself.
~*~*~*~
“So, Preston, what is it you do?” Mom asks, bringing her coffee to her lips and wiggling her brows at me. My mom is crazy, bubbly, and a little over the top, but I love her for it.
“Hey,” Dad says, grabbing my arm as Preston starts telling Mom what he does in great, lengthy detail.
“What?” I whisper.
“You talked to Danny?”
I flinch. “No,” I gasp. “Why?”
He studies me. “No reason.”
He goes to turn away, but I reach over and take his arm. “Daddy, why?”
“Club business, Skye. Just thought you might have spoken to him.”
“About what?”
His eyes grow firm. “Club business.”
I sigh. Damn the club business. I want to know what he’s talking about. “Is he in trouble?”
Dad shrugs and looks back to the menu. I grind my teeth. I know Danny is stepping up into a role that he thinks is everything to him, but I don’t know if that role is safe and it just reassures me why I’m not going to be an old lady. Right now, in this day and age, it seems like the club lives with more trouble than it’s worth. It has slowly gotten worse each year I’ve gotten older, and I can’t help but wonder what it’ll be like in another ten years. Dangerous. Deadly.
Not what I want.
As if he knows we’re speaking about him, my dad’s phone rings, and I glance over to see Danny’s name flash on the screen. He looks down, snatches the phone off the table and stands, stalking off. Mom and Preston are deep in conversation, so I excuse myself with the reasoning that I need to use the bathroom, and follow my father.
He’s standing outside, smoke in his hand, phone to his ear. He doesn’t smoke much, but when he’s stressed he tends to turn towards a cigarette, which makes me even more suspicious.
“You get what I need?” His body language is tight, wound up, as if he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Yeah, I hear you, kid. It’s a big fuckin’ risk goin’ in there.” My dad’s jaw ticks and I step a little closer.
“Danny, you’re takin’ a big risk, and I’m sure Jacks has given you the go-ahead to do it, but fact is you could get hurt.”
I flinch. Danny could get hurt.
My heart twists with fear.
“Can’t change your mind about this, but you gotta know I don’t agree with it. Keep me in the loop.”
Dad hangs up, and I charge over before he even gets the chance to turn. “What’s he doing, daddy?”
Flinching, he turns and stares down at me. “You listenin’ to my conversations, Skye?”
“Tell me what he’s doing that’s so dangerous.”
My dad steps past me.
“Dad!” I cry, fear and frustration bubbling in my chest.
He stops and looks back at me. “Club business has never been yours, baby. You know it. I can’t tell you what he’s doin’; I can only tell you I’ll do everything I can to make sure he’s safe.”
My heart twists as he disappears back into the restaurant. I dig into my purse and pull out my phone, finding Danny’s number. I dial.
“What?” he answers, his voice clipped.
“Whatever it is you’re going to do, don’t do it, Danny.”
He grunts. “Not sure who you listened to, but it ain’t your business, Skye.”
“It is my business!” I cry, fear tightening my throat. “I heard my dad say it’s dangerous.”
“It’s club business.”
“Stop saying that!” I yell, clenching my fists.
“Listen, Skye, you stepped away because you don’t want a part in this, so why the hell you’re ringin’ me and involvin’ yourself is far beyond me. Go back to your little boyfriend and leave me and my club to do our thing.”
“Your club?” I scoff. “Are you serious right now? They’re my family too, Danny.”
“Funny, you didn’t think so when you decided this life wasn’t good enough for you.”
“God dammit, stop using that against me. I still care about you and them, and don’t want to see you all get hurt.”
“I have to go.”
“Danny, please,” I beg, my voice soft and desperate.
He makes a sound deep in his throat, and then in a softer voice, he whispers, “Call you later.”
“Danny . . .”
He hangs up.
Something awful grips my chest, curling its hand around my heart and refusing to release the pressure. If something happens to him . . . I just don’t know if I can survive.
CHAPTER TEN
I run towards the clubhouse, sweat trickling down my forehead. It’s been more than twenty-four hours since I spoke to Danny, and I still haven’t heard from him. My dad refuses to talk to me, Spike too, and not even my mom will let me know what the hell is goin
g down. I’m here to find out for myself. Preston went back to Denver today, and I’m due to leave tomorrow, but I can’t until I know Danny is okay after whatever stupid stunt he just pulled.
I charge through the front gates and straight to the main house, leaping up the front stairs and barreling through the front door. I step into chaos. Danny is in Spike’s face, and he’s bleeding. There’s so much blood on him. On his shirt. On his pants. On his hands and his face. His hair is a mess, and he looks wild. Spike looks wilder, his hands twisted in his son’s shirt, shaking him slightly.
Danny’s hands are by his sides, balled into fists, as if he’s trying to stop them from raising up and fighting his dad.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, boy? We had a fuckin’ plan!” Spike roars.
“The plan changed, and I did what I had to.”
“You stupid, stupid fuckin’ idiot. The plan was for if he was alone. He wasn’t alone; you should have gotten the hell outta there.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not a fuckin’ pussy. I see three against one, I fuckin’ take it.”
“Could have been killed, you reckless fuck—”
“Danny?” I say, my voice shaky.
They stop yelling, two heads swinging in my direction. Spike lets go of Danny immediately and my dad steps out from the crowd around them, his eyes narrowed in my direction.
“Skye, you shouldn’t be here,” Dad says, his voice hard.
“What happened?” I whisper, my chest clenching with fear. Danny looks like . . . he looks . . .
Like he murdered someone.
Dad steps up beside me. “None of your concern.”
My eyes hold Danny’s and he’s staring at me, panting with rage, his fists still clenched. “Are you . . . What did you do?” I croak.
“None of your business,” he says, his voice tight. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“What did you do?” I scream, making him flinch.
“Get her out of here,” Granddad orders. “Now.”
“Danny,” I yell as my dad takes my arm, pulling me towards the door. “What did you do?”
Tears burst forth and roll down my cheeks. I shove at my dad and he lets me go, looking a little hurt. “Skye, it’s time to go.”
“He killed someone, didn’t he?”
I know what the club can do. I know they’ve all killed. But Danny . . . Danny. . . he’s always been my person, my place, my safe haven and now. He’s covered in someone else’s blood. The thought sends me into a frenzy and I spin, running out of the house. My entire body shakes as reality comes crashing down once again.
This is exactly why I can’t be here.
Tears blur my vision as I reach the car I drove over and leap in, taking off before anyone has the chance to stop me. I drive with far too much speed down the road and to a lake that we used to swim in when we were kids. I skid to a stop and get out, rushing to the edge and dropping to my knees, scooping water up into my hands and splashing my face.
That image of him covered in blood won’t leave.
Someone else’s blood.
He killed so brutally he’s covered in that much blood.
The low roar of a Harley-Davidson comes down the road and stops behind me, but I don’t look up. I can’t.
“Skye.”
Danny. Always Danny.
I can’t look at him.
“Look at me.”
I don’t.
“God dammit, you shouldn’t have come.”
I push to my feet and keep my head down as I try to pass him. His hand lashes out and curls around my arm, hauling me closer to him. I catch sight of his bloody fingers and start fighting. “Let me go. Don’t touch me . . . Don’t t-t-t-touch me.”
“Calm down.”
I look up and he releases me at the horror in my eyes. His face is covered in blood, and tears roll down my cheeks at the sight. “Calm down?” I whisper, my voice far too shaky. “Calm down? You’re covered in blood, so much blood I don’t need a strong imagination to take a guess at what could have happened to cover you in so much of it. You’re. . .”
“Say it?” he rasps.
“You’re a murderer.”
He flinches and turns, walking towards the lake and diving in. The water turns an ugly shade of muddy red as the blood is washed from his clothes and skin. When he surfaces, I can see his face again. He’s got a swollen eye and a busted lip, and his knuckles are red and raw, but aside from that he’s not hurt.
I want to turn and run back to my car, but my feet are glued to the ground, my heart aching to go to him. He looks as if he’s in agony, his faced bunched with pain and regret. I can’t turn away, no matter how badly I want to. Step by step, I move closer to him until I find myself removing my dress and diving into the water.
I surface away from where he just rinsed and with pained eyes, he moves closer to me, leaving the mess to flow off behind him.
“That man hurt my sister and was involved in hurting my best friend. He deserved everything he got.”
“You went after the guy who hurt Mercy?”
He nods. “It wasn’t meant to turn bad. We had it on good authority that he’d be there alone and I went in. It was meant to be a clean kill. He wasn’t alone, they saw me—shit got messy. I didn’t kill them all, Skye. I won’t go into detail but one shot in the right area can bring on a lot of blood.”
“But you did kill someone,” I whisper, my chest so tight I can hardly breathe.
“Yeah, I did.”
I look down at the water, my tears roll down my cheeks onto the surface.
“It was them or me.”
“No, Danny, it wasn’t. You went in there knowing you were going to kill, knowing it was going to end today. You made a choice; it just didn’t go how you planned.”
“Skye, everyone you loved has killed. Why is it different for me?”
I don’t answer. I can’t answer. It wouldn’t make any sense.
“I should go,” I whisper.
“Don’t,” he pleads, and the desperate, broken sound of his voice makes my heart ache. “I don’t want to be left alone with this, because regardless of what you think, it . . . it fucked with my head.”
He’s hurting.
I reach out and cup the side of his face. He turns in slightly, closing his eyes. “This is the life you chose, Danny.”
“Don’t mean it felt good.”
I drop my hand and exhale. “I’m going home tomorrow.”
His eyes flash, and he looks so fucking pained by that I have to look away. “You promised we could talk before you left.”
“I did.”
“Then it’s time.”
I look into his eyes and whisper, “It’s time.”
We sit for a long while in that water, neither of us saying anything, but finally Danny breaks the silence, his voice low and hurt. “I hate this. I know you think I don’t, but I fuckin’ do. I hate not talkin’ to you. I hate not hangin’ out with you. I hate not hearin’ your laugh.”
My chest clenches. I say nothing.
“I know you don’t want to hear what I have to say, but Skye, you gotta hear me.”
“I’ve heard you, Danny,” I whisper. “We’ve fought so much over this; how could I have not heard you?”
“No, baby, you haven’t. Let me say what I gotta say. The outcome at the end will still probably be the same but if we don’t do this the right way, we’ll never talk again, and I can’t live with that.”
“Neither can I,” I admit.
I don’t trust myself here with Danny. Not here. Not in a spot where so much happened between us in the past. It’s where we fell in love and fell apart. It’s where everything about us was formed and broken. It’s everything to us. It’s everything we are.
I just don’t know if I’m ready for this.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for this.
“I don’t know where to start, but I’m goin’ to start with the truth. You might not like it, but I’m givin’
it to you real and I think you need to hear it. First thing’s, that man is not good enough for you. I don’t say that because seein’ you with him breaks my fuckin’ heart, but because it’s the truth. He’s too perfect and he makes you think that’s how you have to be.”
My chest twists, but I keep silent.
“Secondly, I know I haven’t agreed to you wantin’ to be away from here and travel, and that’s because I don’t believe it’s what you really want. I know you think it is, but fuck, Skye, the girl I knew loved her family and loved her club. You were so happy to be here; the furthest you wanted to go was Denver.”
“I always wanted to travel, Danny,” I point out.
“Yeah,” he says, looking to me. “But baby, you always wanted to come home. You’re running, and I think I know why.”
I narrow my eyes and hold his.
“It’s because of what happened to Ava, then to Mercedes. You’re terrified because you’ve seen a side of the club your dad shielded you from for so long. You saw horror and you saw it nearly break someone you love. In your mind, you can’t live that life and you can’t raise a family in that life.”
I flinch and a horrible cold washes over my body. He’s wrong. I wanted out before that. I did. Today just confirms it.
I push the memory of seeing Ava so broken out of my head. No. That’s not what made me feel like this. This is what I want.
“It’s not,” I choke out. “It’s not . . .”
“You were always a free spirit, Skye. You held back with me because part of you knew that someday you’d like to see the world, but you would have always come back to me. You knew that and I knew that; it’s why we kept going even when we thought it was pointless. Then Ava got taken and shit changed for you. Suddenly, you didn’t wanna come back. You just wanted gone.”
I shake my head. “You’re wrong, Danny. I held back on you because I never wanted to be an old lady.”
His eyes harden slightly. “That’s shit and you know it.”
“It isn’t shit; it’s the truth. I always wanted to be something different.”
“Both you and I know that you can be an old lady and still have every-fuckin’-thing you want in life, Skye. It’s more than that.”
He’s wrong.
Wrong.