Restraint (Heaven Hill Generations Book 5)

by Laramie Briscoe

  “Before times?”

  “Ya know, before Travis went crazy and kidnapped me? I got the laptop a week before it happened. It was the first big purchase I’d ever gotten that I didn’t have to share with Harley. I’ve been holding onto it for a long time.” She wipes at the corner of her eye. “It’s stupid, but this thing has always kept me grounded.”

  “Aww hell.” I reach in, grabbing her around the waist, pulling her close.

  Her smaller arms wrap around my neck, holding on tightly as I rub my hand up and down her back. “Like I said, it’s stupid.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s my bike for me. The thing that keeps me grounded,” I whisper in her ear. “But she’s a piece of machinery I can upgrade all the time.”

  “You can’t upgrade my laptop?”

  The hope in her voice is enough to strangle me. I have to kill it, because there’s no way I can do what she’s asking. “No, not a laptop. I can build you an amazing PC.”

  “Ugh! But that’s not what I want.” She pushes away from me, wiping at her eyes.

  My fingers find their way to the turquoise lock of hair, tugging on it. “For a twin, you’re spoiled as hell.”

  She giggles, the noise going through her nose since she’s cried. “I tend to get what I want.”

  “Not this time.” I shake my head. “Come see me tomorrow and I’ll have a new laptop set up for you. Keep this one, make it a shrine, sleep with it under your pillow every night, I don’t give a damn, but it’s served you well. You need an upgrade.”

  She grumbles as she pushes her seat back away from mine before getting up. “An upgrade in friends.”

  “You know you’ll never find anyone as hot as me.”

  “I can try.”

  “Keep tryin’. I’ve got the market cornered on a brooding bad boy with a pinch of nerd.”

  She laughs this time, the kind of laugh I love from her. “I gotta go teach a self-defense class. I’ll be here to see you tomorrow. Don’t disappoint me.”

  As she leaves, I watch her through the door of my office. My eyes glued to the sway of her hips, memorizing the way her jeans cup her ass, and wonder when in the hell we’re gonna stop dancing around one another.

  Chapter Two

  Justice

  I’m emotional as I carry my laptop out to my car. This is the one thing I never wanted to give up. Seems crazy and stupid, I’m sure my therapist would tell me all the ways I’m co-dependent with it, but she’s gotten me through a lot.

  Opening my trunk, I put her safely amongst a blanket, rubbing her beat up cover, and thinking about all the papers, poems, and thoughts I’ve written on her.

  “Justice!”

  Turning at the sound of the voice, I grin when I see my dad, jogging my way. “Hey.” I reach out, hugging him tightly. “I haven’t seen you in a few days. Are you finally okay with me and Harley moving out of the house?”

  “I’ll never be okay with that.” He tightens his arms around me. “But your mom mentioned I had to let you two live your own lives. Whatever the fuck that means.”

  “Dad…”

  “I know, I know. What are you doing here?”

  Tilting my head toward the trunk, I glance down. “She’s given up the ghost and I was hoping Caelin would be able to fix her.”

  “Jesus, you and that laptop. Could he fix her?”

  “No.” I shake my head sadly. “He can’t, but he told me he’d have a new one ready for me tomorrow.”

  “What are you going to do with her?” he asks this question carefully. It’s the way everyone asks me things that tend to deal with either the person I was before the kidnapping, or anything that happened after Travis got killed.

  “I’ll keep her.” I put my hands in my jeans pockets. “She’s been through a lot with me.”

  Everyone gets credit; no one gives me shit for referring to my laptop as a friend. At this point, I’ll take what I can get.

  “You sure you don’t want to give her a great sendoff with a bonfire?”

  “Positive.”

  My phone beeps with an alarm, reminding me I need to be down at CRISIS so I can help with the self-defense classes.

  “I know, you gotta go. You and Harley are always going somewhere these days. Got no time for dear old dad.”

  “Oh my God.” I roll my eyes. “Could you be more dramatic?”

  “If you keep asking with that attitude, I’ll be ninety times more dramatic than I am now.”

  “Love you, Dad, but I gotta go.”

  “Love you too.” He tugs me to him, kissing me on the top of the head. “Text me when you get home. I know, I know, you don’t live with me anymore, and blah, blah, blah.”

  “Caelin knows when we use our code to get into the apartment,” I point out.

  “But Caelin isn’t me, and I’d like to know when you’re home.”

  I close my eyes, counting to ten. “Got it.”

  He finally turns, walking to the clubhouse, and I gratefully sink into the front seat of my car, thankful to be driving away from this testosterone-laden property. Some days I can take it, others I can’t, and tonight, I’m ready for the self-defense class. I’d love to kick some ass.

  “Who’s got you irritated tonight?” Meredith Blackfoot asks as I clean up the room we use in the back of CRISIS for my classes. This right here is my little sanctuary. When Caelin gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday I’m not sure who he was trying to help more, him or me. But it’s saved me, working better than anything else has since the kidnapping.

  “Your son.”

  “Ohhh,” she laughs. “There’s no telling what he did either. There are times when I’d like to let Tyler alone claim him, but then I realize how much I love the stinker.”

  She says stinker like he’s five years old. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so far from the truth. Caelin Blackfoot is all man, and I’m starting to notice it more than I ever have. If I close my eyes I can see every inch of him as if he stands before me. The long length of his body, the angular cut of his jaw, the lazy beard he always wears, the way the tight t-shirts he opts for show off the strength of his biceps and highlight the ink on his arms. The tall, dark, and handsome vision he makes with his dark hair and eyes. It’s all enough to put him as the lead in any romance. The good news is, I’ve claimed him, and Heaven help anyone who stands in my way.

  “I wanted him to do something for me, and he explained he couldn’t. I’m a brat who’s always gotten her way, and he pointed it out. He’s also making me exchange my laptop for a brand-new one.”

  “You love her.”

  “I do, but as Caelin so eloquently put it, it’s time she went out to pasture. Like a cow.”

  She does her best to keep from laughing, but she can’t hold it in as it comes out as a snort. “He’s got a way with words, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s got a way with something.” I heave the mat off the floor, stacking it against the wall. “He’s right, but I don’t want to admit it.”

  “Never tell him he’s right, you won’t hear the end of it,” she cautions. “He’s too much like his dad in that respect.”

  “Not like you at all, huh?” I smirk over at her.

  “Not at all.”

  She stretches, walking around the room as she swings her arms. “I should’ve come in here for your class. It always helps me not feel so stiff, but we had a few arrivals right as I was about to lock the door for the night.”

  While I’m glad they’ve found their way here, I hate they had to make a run for it after the sun went down. “Did you tell them I have a class the day after tomorrow?”

  “I did, and I think they’ll be joining. I will be too; I’m getting too old to sit at that desk for hours on end.”

  “Oh please, you don’t look a day over thirty.”

  “Girl, I feel it. Trust me, the way my body cracks and pops, it knows exactly how old it is.”

  If there were anyone I would usually confide in about the feelings I have for Caelin, it would
be Meredith. But he’s her son, and I don’t want to put her in an awkward situation, so I’m quiet as I finish putting up my equipment for the night. When I’m done, I look over at her. “I’ll see you in a few days? I need to head home, have to work for Mom in the morning.”

  “Yeah, be safe. Okay, Justice?”

  Everyone always tells me to be safe, even if I’m driving up the road to get a corn dog at Sonic. It’s almost as if they’re afraid I’ll disappear without a trace. Which I guess they are because that’s what happened when I was kidnapped, but it’s still hard for me to get used to. No one tells Harley to be safe every time she walks out the front door. Maybe that’s something I need to ask her about.

  “I will, have a great night.”

  “You too.”

  When I’m outside, I bask in the night air, enjoying the stars in the sky and the sound of bugs in the distance. As I was always taught, I’m parked under the light, and when I get into my car, my phone beeps with a text. Looking down, I see it’s from Caelin.

  C: You should lock your car doors, especially if you’re at CRISIS. You know some weirdos like to check out the place when they think no one is paying attention.

  J: Stop watching me through your camera system.

  C: I watch everybody. It’s not just you.

  Perfect.

  He pointed out that I’m not really special. Rolling down the window, I stick my hand out, flipping him off.

  Now I’m being the brat he called me earlier. God, why do I let myself get involved in this with him, every time. I try to make him admit I’m something to him, I’m obviously not and then my feelings get hurt.

  J: Then spend your time texting them. I’m tired and on my way home, and I know how you feel about texting and driving.

  C: Keep that finger inside the car. Sleep sweet, Justice.

  Then he has to do shit like that and confuse me to no end.

  I’m equally conflicted too. Part of me wishes I’d never kissed him on my birthday. On either of them, my sixteenth or eighteenth, but then another part of me wishes I’d kiss him every day to see what will make him take notice. What’s the one thing that’s finally going to force him to make a move?

  If I knew, then I wouldn’t be sitting here in the parking lot of CRISIS upset that he’s just told me he watches everyone. Which is what he’s supposed to do. It’s literally his position in the club. Irritated with myself, I turn my car toward the apartment Harley and I are renting, trying to ignore the way my feelings roll around in my stomach, balled up like clothes in a dryer.

  When I pull up to the apartment, I see Bishop’s bike parked next to Harley’s. I should’ve known he’d be here. He always is.

  All bets were on me when we were kids. That I would be the one in love before I was twenty, married with kids before twenty-three. No one thought that Harley would meet Bishop and they’d turn out to be everything the other needed. He’s lived with us since that high school football game. He came home with us and never left.

  Most nights I don’t care if he’s here, but tonight I don’t want to see them sucking face, don’t want to hear her headboard hitting the wall, and seriously don’t want to see him in the morning with scratches down his back and a hickey on his neck. All it does is remind me of what I want and don’t have.

  Steeling myself, I stomp up the stairs to our second-floor apartment and knock before putting in the code. Hopefully giving them enough time to get dressed if they’re making out on the couch.

  Instead, when I walk in, Harley’s on the couch by herself, watching TV. “Hey.” She waves at me. “How was class?”

  I dump my stuff at our catch-all, taking my shoes off in the entryway. “Good, I seriously need a shower, but it was good. Where’s Bishop?”

  “He went with Dalton to Nashville to grab some parts they need for tomorrow. They’re coming in on a truck and the two of them decided to make an evening of it. They’re having dinner and stuff.”

  “Why didn’t you go with them?” I have a seat next to her.

  “Wasn’t invited. It was dude bonding time, or what-the-fuck-ever. So I’ve been here waiting for you to get home. I know it’s eight, but do you wanna make some cookies? I’m dying for some chocolate.”

  “Oh my God, me too.” I hop up when she does, following her to the kitchen.

  “Do we want chocolate chip, or double chocolate fudge?” she asks as she flips through our cabinets.

  We both know I’m going to be the one making them, but she likes to be involved in the decision making.

  “Double chocolate,” we answer in unison.

  As the two of us work like a well-oiled machine, getting the ingredients and bowls out, I look over at her. “Harley, I have a question.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Does anyone ever tell you to be safe?”

  Her eyebrows furrow. “No.”

  “Exactly what I thought.”

  Chapter Three

  Caelin

  The vibration of the bike underneath me is one of the things I love most about riding. The way the bumps in the road move up through my body, the wind slapping against my face, and the howl of my bike slicing through the air as I speed down Louisville Road with my dad beside me.

  Early morning is our time.

  I’ll never give it up, even for all the money in the world.

  We come to a stop over the river, obeying the red light. “Do you want to stop at the law office before or after breakfast?” he yells over the idling.

  “I’ll do it after. If she’s nice, I might even give her a biscuit.”

  Dad grins, causing me to smile back. “At some point you’re going to have to admit it.”

  “Admit what?”

  “That you’ve got it bad for little Justice Walker.”

  The light flips to green, allowing him to take off before me. I immediately hit the gas to catch up, his words tumbling around in my head. Little Justice Walker, my ass. The last few months she’s grown up more than I ever thought possible. Since she and Harley moved out, I’ve seen a whole new independent side to her.

  It’s hot as hell.

  I’ve never been one for the woman who needs to be saved all the time. If anything, Justice has never been a product of her circumstances. She’s fought hard to find her place in the world. Although it’s been tough at points, she’s hung on with both hands, swinging off a ledge with nothing beneath her.

  Our issue? Her dad. I’m not sure Drew would take well to me wanting to do all kinds of dirty things to his daughter, and I respect him enough to not want to sneak around.

  Therein lies my issue. Do I nut up and go to him? Tell him I want the opportunity to date her? Ask for his blessing? Or do I let her be the one to decide?

  Either way I’m leaving myself open to criticism from all sides. The choice isn’t clear, but what is, is that I’ll have to make one sooner rather than later, because Justice and I? We’ve waited long enough.

  Justice

  “Seriously?” The word falls as a grumble from my lips as I pull into the back of Mom’s law office. Even though we pay for parking with her building, the annoying assholes next door tend to steal it.

  Which is why, although I’m almost thirty minutes early for work, I don’t have a parking spot. I’m half-tempted to take a picture and text it to my dad, along with my complaints. He’ll probably come out with guns blazing and threaten them, making the situation worse. Which forces me to take a trip around to the front of the building, looking for parking on the street.

  As I make the left-hand turn at the light, I’m surprised to see a very familiar bike sitting in front of our office. His head is down, over his phone, which gives me a chance to take a look at him without him noticing.

  Caelin Blackfoot is the type of man dreams are made of. He’s hard where he should be, and soft in all the ways you want him to be. Although I’m not dumb; I know he’s not like that with everyone. I seem to be one of the only people he reserves his soft side for.

&nbs
p; But the hard? I think I kind of like that more.

  He looks like a badass motherfucker no one would want to mess with as he sits parked on his bike. A backward hat on his head, sunglasses cover his eyes, and a short-sleeve shirt underneath his cut. The jeans he wears have seen better days, but they have the lived-in look, where at one time they were definitely blue, but now they look almost white. Frayed edges kiss the tops of his boots, little holes dot the knees. This is the look I love on Caelin, and immediately I’m more than excited to see him.

  Parking across the street from where he sits, I do my best not to fuck it up. Parallel isn’t my strong suit, and when my dad is with me, he likes to get out, stand on the corner, and yell “C’mon back”. It’s the most embarrassing thing, but it’s what I deal with.

  Turning my car off, I grab my purse, my lunch box, the daily bag I bring, along with my coffee, and get out. As I walk toward him, I use the key fob to click the locks. “Is that good enough for you?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

  “So long as you’re lockin’ it, I could give two shits.”

  No man should look as hot as him on a motorcycle. I always compare him to everyone else in my life. There are a lot of men and women I know who ride a bike, and no one else causes this little dip in my stomach when I see him astride one.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He gets off, grabbing a backpack, as he follows me to the door. I juggle everything in my hands, until he grabs my lunchbox and coffee. “Open the damn door, and then I’ll show you what I’m doing here.”

  “So snippy.”

  “Be nice to me or I won’t give you what I brought you.”

  The idea I had yesterday plays in the back of my mind. Giving him a kiss every day until he finally responds and asks me out. It has its merits, but I’m not sure I have the guts to do it right now.

  We spill into the office. Quickly I dump my stuff on my desk and then race to the alarm to stop it from going off. It makes a horrible sound, and if I can prevent it, I’ll do it.