Drifter (MC Sinners Next Generation #2)

by Bella Jewel

He nods jerkily. “Nice to know someone around here has the balls to stick it to her.”

  I blink.

  What?

  “Stick it to her?” I say, voice small.

  “To Maxine.”

  “Isn’t she your girlfriend?”

  His eyes drop to my lips, and I squirm. “Don’t mean she doesn’t need to be put in her place occasionally.”

  “Right.”

  “Later, Killer.”

  Killer? Strange.

  “Right, okay, later.”

  Was that almost a normal conversation? I’ll be damned. The man isn’t an emotionless rock after all.

  ~*~*~*~

  “I look awful!” I groan, turning from side to side in the mirror.

  “You’re a zombie.” Taj laughs. “You’re meant to look awful. You eat brains and such.”

  “I know but . . . ew.”

  He throws an arm around my shoulder, and we both look into the mirror. I must admit, as gross as it is, we look pretty awesome. I’m wearing a white tank that’s got fake blood down the front and ripped white cut-offs. My hair is messy and has an unkempt look, and I’ve got dark shadows under my eyes, as well as random bloodstains all over my body.

  Taj is wearing exactly the same as me, only his pants are white jeans that are also ripped, and he has on an old grey hoodie.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  “I think so.”

  “Let’s do this.”

  The party is at an old warehouse that’s been decorated in a Halloween-type theme, even though it’s clearly not that time of the year. Taj tells me they often have themed parties here, just for something different.

  I dodge my way through spider webs, zombie dolls, and statues to the drink table, where all the beverages are red. Very cool. I take one and sip it, instantly tasting the vodka. I grab another for when this one is done and turn to Taj, who also has two drinks in his hands.

  “Great minds.” He nods at my drinks.

  I grin. “Yep! Let’s look around.”

  We move through the warehouse together, taking in everyone’s costumes. It’s hard to tell who is who when they’re all dressed like zombies. Fake brains are being tossed around, making hilarious versions of a zombie whine. I can’t help but laugh; it really is a cool idea. I sip my drink as we find a fake-blood-covered chair outside. I touch it, seeing it’s dry, and sit.

  “So, what’s the verdict?” Taj asks.

  “It’s pretty awesome!” I admit.

  “I knew you’d like it.”

  I grin at him.

  “You want to dance?” he asks, nodding to the dance floor in the middle of the yard out front of the warehouse, where everyone is dancing in slow motion.

  I burst out laughing.

  “Is that even called dancing?”

  “It’s zombie dancing. You should try it.”

  “All right. I’m up for anything.”

  We finish our drinks and stand, moving to the dance floor. We spend the next hour laughing and practicing our zombie moves as the scary music plays. I’m actually having a really good time. My phone rings in my pocket, vibrating through my shorts, and I stop my epic moves and dig it out to see my dad’s number on the screen. I didn’t call him the last few days, and if I don’t answer this now, he’ll probably ride down here.

  “I just have to get this. I’ll be back.”

  The music is pounding, so I can’t take the call here. I rush to a quieter area, but the noise from the party seems to follow me. I go around the back of the building and find an old shed. That’ll work. I rush in through the open doorway and see it’s been decorated in here, too. They went all out. I answer the call and press it to my ear.

  “Hey dad,” I say.

  “Not answering my calls?”

  “I’ve been busy studying. What’s up?”

  “Where are you?”

  “At a friend’s house.”

  “Your friend plays some loud music.”

  “Dad,” I warn.

  “Right. Just callin’ to see if you’re comin’ back for your mom’s birthday in a few weeks?”

  “I’m going to try. Does she know?”

  “Don’t wanna tell her and get her hopes up if you can’t make it.”

  “Keep it that way, so if I do make it, it’ll be a surprise.”

  “Try hard to make that happen, yeah?”

  “Will do. I gotta go. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “All right, baby.”

  “Later, Dad.”

  I hang up and step out of the shed, but trip over something and tumble forwards. My phone flies out of my hand and into the darkness. Great. I pat around on the floor for a few minutes but I can’t see well enough. Letting out a frustrated growl, I turn and go back into the shed, looking for a light. I’m searching when the sound of the door slamming makes me jump. A second later, the lights go out and I’m enveloped in darkness. I spin quickly, rushing over to open it back up.

  It’s locked.

  Feminine giggles can be heard outside and something tight creeps into my chest.

  “Hello?” I call, rattling the door.

  No one answers.

  The music outside stops.

  “Everyone, we’d just like to inform you that you can’t go behind the warehouse. It’s out of bounds; those are orders. Anyone who is seen back there will have to report to the owner. He has fragile things he doesn’t want touched. We’re sectioning it off now.”

  That bitch. That filthy, filthy bitch.

  “No,” I scream. “No. I’m in here. Help!”

  The music has already started up before I can finish screaming. Frustrated, I rush around the shed, trying to find a way out. There are no windows; it’s only a little garden-type shed. I get on my hands and knees and search for something to make some noise. I find a few pieces of wood and slam them against the walls, but the music is far louder than me.

  “Help!” I scream, standing and pounding my fists on the door. “Hello?”

  Panic rises in my chest. This place is out of town; once everyone leaves, I might not be found for days. Taj wouldn’t go home without me, I’m sure of it, but if Maxine has someone tell him I’ve had to go home . . . he’d probably believe them. My heart races as I pound my fists over and over until they hurt.

  She’ll pay for this.

  “Hello?” I scream.

  Exhausted, I fall to the seat along the left side. I drop my head into my hands. It’s getting hot in here, so much so it’s hard to breathe. I try to calm myself, but the longer I sit, the more frantic I get. They’ve probably got my phone. It’s locked, but that doesn’t mean they can’t crack it. A tear leaks out and runs down my face, followed by another and then another.

  I should have kept ignoring her. I woke the dragon when I tackled her and now she’s getting revenge.

  I take a deep breath and stand, kicking the door this time. Maybe it’ll come undone. I kick and punch, and scream and yell for what seems like hours. The more panicked I get, the louder my yelling becomes. I hit the door so hard my knuckles bleed, but I don’t stop. If I get left out here, it could be a long time before someone figured it out. When the morning sun hits, I’ll have nothing to protect me from it. Surely Maxine wouldn’t leave me in here that long? It’s just a joke. Right?

  “Help me,” I scream, tears streaming down my face. “Please!”

  I shake the door over and over, crying and screaming.

  Then I’m being thrown forward as its jerked open. I stumble a few times before I’m caught in a pair of strong arms.

  “You’re all right.”

  Diesel.

  I clutch his shirt, trembling.

  “Hey, you’re safe.”

  “Oh my God, what happened?”

  I lift my head from Diesel’s chest to see Maxine standing a few feet from him, actually daring to look shocked.

  “You bitch!” I scream, throwing myself out of his arms and towards her.

  He catches me and hauls me back.
“Calm down, Killer.”

  “She locked me in a fucking shed!” I yell, trying to pull his arms off me.

  “I said, calm down,” he orders.

  I take a shaky breath and stop fighting, not once taking my eyes from Maxine. “You’ll pay for this,” I rasp.

  “I didn’t do anything.” She smirks, but the second Diesel looks to her, she puts her worried face back on.

  “You do this?” he growls.

  “Of course not,” she cries, pressing a hand to her heart. “I didn’t even know she was here. I was with Sandy the entire time.”

  The brunette, who I now know is Sandy, nods frantically. “Yeah, she was with me.”

  “You locked me in and announced that no one could come back here, you lying cow!” I screech.

  “The owner must have accidently locked you in,” Maxine says, her voice all kind and fake. “He told me to make the announcement before he left.”

  Liar.

  Fucking liar.

  “If I find out you did this, I won’t be fuckin’ happy,” Diesel warns her, before turning me to face him.

  He reaches down and lifts my hands. “Fuck, you’re bleeding. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

  “Diesel, you can’t take her home!” Maxine protests. “What about me?”

  He glares at her. “Go with Sandy. Taj went lookin’ for her an hour ago; she’s got no one else here to take her.”

  “Anyone at this party could.”

  Diesel lets me go and steps closer, leaning down and hissing, “I’m taking her.”

  Maxine frowns as Diesel turns and moves back to me, taking my arm. I look to her as we walk away and she’s glaring at me. “Guess that plan backfired,” I mutter as we go past.

  “Stop stirring the pot,” Diesel grunts as we walk through the crowd.

  “She locked me in a shed.”

  He says nothing more, just leads me to his truck and opens the door for me. I climb in and wait for him to do the same. I glance down at my hands, they’re bleeding worse than I thought. Some of the skin is cracked; other parts are swelling and red.

  “You could have broken something,” he says, and I flinch.

  “I don’t think I did.”

  “You need to get those looked at. I’ll take you to my folks’ house; it’s close. Fix you up and then take you home.”

  It took Taj and I more than half an hour to get to this warehouse, so it’s a good distance out of town.

  “I can wait,” I say, not sure I like the idea of going to his parents’ place.

  “You need ice as quickly as possible or you ain’t going to be able to write from the swelling Monday. My folks live five minutes from here; you live over thirty. Your choice.”

  “Okay,” I say softly, too exhausted to argue.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  He starts the truck and pulls out.

  “Have you been drinking?” I ask.

  “No. I don’t drink.”

  “Oh.”

  We sit in silence as he drives, and he’s right. Five minutes later we pull into the driveway in front of a gorgeous two-story white home, surrounded by gorgeous gardens. It’s absolutely stunning.

  “This is a beautiful house.”

  Diesel hums a sound and gets out. I shove my door open and stand up before he can make it around the car. He frowns at me but says nothing. I fall in step beside him as we walk up to the house.

  “Will your folks be, ah, awake?”

  “Probably. Don’t worry—they won’t bother you.”

  I’m suddenly nervous, which makes no sense because it’s not as if we’re dating. He’s just helping me. I take a deep breath as Diesel shoves the front door open and we step in. The sounds of laughter and music flow through from the backyard, and I stop. “Are they having a party?” I whisper.

  Diesel shrugs. “Probably.”

  We move through the house towards the sound. The building is stunning. Truly breathtaking. The floors are polished wood, the walls creamy white. The kitchen has glossy black counters and the furniture is homely, yet modern. Diesel walks into the kitchen and grabs an ice pack from the freezer, handing it to me. I take it and press it against my knuckles, sighing with relief.

  “You want to go and meet them?” he asks, nodding towards the door.

  “It would be rude to use their ice pack and not say hi.”

  His lips quirk. God, he’d be beautiful if he smiled.

  He walks towards the door and I take a shaky breath, following him out when goes. I stop dead the second I take in all the people sitting on the back porch.

  Holy. Shit. My mouth drops open, and the ice pack slips clean from my hands as I take in a group of . . . bikers. My eyes flick to a patch, and I see it’s the same club I saw on the street when I first got here.

  The Joker’s Wrath MC.

  Oh boy.

  Oh fucking boy.

  Maybe Diesel’s family are just friends with them.

  Right. Right?

  “Diesel, I wasn’t expecting you!” a gorgeous woman cries, leaping up from her chair and rushing over. She throws her arms around his neck, and he gives her a hug.

  “Just had to stop in and get Mercedes some ice. Your house was closest,” he says.

  He said my name. My heart flutters unexpectedly.

  The woman lets Diesel go and looks to me. Gosh, she’s pretty, and a little wild-looking. Her dark hair is streaked with purple, and she’s short but has a killer body. Her face is stunning, her eyes incredible.

  “Hello there. Wow, Diesel has never brought anyone home. I’m Jaylah, his mom.”

  She’s his mother? Shit.

  No wonder he’s good-looking.

  “Ah, he hasn’t? Wow. Well, ah, shit I’m mumbling.” Holy crap. I just said that out loud.

  Jaylah bursts out laughing and comes over, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “Oh, I like you.”

  I bite my lip and glance at the bikers all studying me. I notice Maddox sitting at the end of the table, a gorgeous woman tucked into his side. She looks like Pocahontas. God, she’s pretty. Where do they get these women from?

  “Ah, hey Maddox.”

  Jaylah’s head swivels towards him. “How did you meet her before me?”

  Maddox grins at Jaylah. “Met her at the store. Some girls were givin’ her trouble. I helped her out. Didn’t know she was seein’ the boy.”

  “I’m not seeing him,” I say, grinning. “He isn’t even on my friends list yet.”

  Diesel is studying me, his expression curious.

  “He never brings anyone here, but whatever you say.” Jaylah laughs. “Come and meet my husband, Mack.”

  She rushes over to the man I saw the day on the street. Oh my God. That really was Diesel’s dad. I have to force my mouth to stay closed. He’s absolutely beautiful, just like his son. His hair is long and braided over one shoulder, kind of like how Jackson keeps his. His skin is soft, olive, and he’s tall and well built, but it’s the eyes that gave it away then and give it away now. Soft brown, slightly slanted—stunning.

  Native American heritage at its finest.

  “Hi,” I say nervously.

  “Hey,” he rumbles back. “Good to see you again.”

  “Again?” Diesel asks.

  “Your family helped me out the other day at the store. When Maxine was being her usual self. I didn’t know he was your dad, though.”

  “Right,” Diesel mutters.

  I turn back and glance at Diesel’s dad, Mack, again. My eyes drop down and I see he’s got one leg straight forward. A slight bit of silver shines from just above his shoe. Fake leg. That explains why he was holding his bike differently.

  “You can ride with that? That’s really impressive,” I say, before my brain engages. I throw a hand over my mouth when it does. Shit. How rude. “Oh my God, sorry, I didn’t . . .”

  Mack looks at me, then grins. “Yeah, I’m with my wife. I like you.”

  I laugh nervously.

  “
Might as well meet them all now,” Diesel mutters. “There you got Krypt and his wife, Ash.”

  I look to a scarily stunning man who is grinning at me, and his beautiful wife who, like the rest of them, is so pretty it hurts to look at her.

  “Then you got Pippa and Tyke.”

  I look to the next couple. Tyke is also handsome—definitely biker, but not as scary and in your face as the rest. Pippa, however, is tiny, blond, and looks like she would break if you simply breathed on her. She’s sweet as hell.

  “You met Maddox. His wife is Santana.”

  That name suits the dark haired beauty.

  “Hey everyone,” I say, waving a hand. “I’m Mercedes.”

  “That’s a killer name.” Santana smiles.

  “That’s what I said,” Maddox adds.

  “What happened to your hand, girl?” Krypt asks.

  “His bitch of a girlfriend locked me in a shed,” I grumble.

  Ash snort-laughs and Krypt gives her a look. “What?” She giggles. “I like this girl.”

  “You have a girlfriend?” Jaylah asks. “And I didn’t know? Diesel . . . why?” She presses a hand to her chest in mock horror and I laugh. She’s way cool.

  Diesel is staring at me again.

  “Diesel!” Jaylah cries again. “Why? And what is wrong with the bitch if she’s locking people in sheds?”

  Diesel looks back to her. “Got to sort out her hands.”

  “Sort them out here, boy,” Mack says. “We want to talk to her. Go get a first-aid kit.”

  Diesel exhales loudly, but nods and pulls a chair out for me before disappearing inside to get a first-aid kit.

  “You hit the doors?” Maddox asks me.

  “She’s the kind of girl that would have left me there, so yeah,” I say wincing at the pain that shoots up my hand.

  “Come sit by me. Wanna make sure those fingers aren’t broken,” Mack says.

  I get up and walk over, sitting beside him. I extend my hand out, and he takes it. His fingers are soft, long, and just like Diesel’s. I look up at him as he flexes each finger. Yes, beautiful like his son.

  “This hurt?” he asks flexing my pointer finger.

  I wince. “Shit yes.”

  Jaylah laughs again. I look over to her and grin.

  “You’re not scared of us,” Mack says, flexing my other fingers.

  I meet his eyes and try to avoid looking guilty, because maybe I’m being too obvious. Still, not everyone would be scared of a club, right? “Why would I be?”