“Be safe, Ms. Winters.” Warner levels me with a serious gaze once more. “Try not to do anything stupid.” The last words are said with a smile.
“I’ll do my best.” I smile back, but the simple act seems to take all of my energy. I watch Agent Warner walk out the door and the realization that I really am going to be on my own from here on out hits me.
Mr. Jones stops before he follows his boss out. “People do stupid things for love,” he says, and it sounds like he’s speaking from experience. “Try to keep your head, even if it hurts your heart.” He squeezes my shoulder and the friendliness of the gesture almost breaks me in half. Then he walks out the door, leaving me well and truly alone.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I can’t believe that I said those things to Aimee. The words were sticking in my throat and I had to fight just to get them out. I hope she understands why I had to do it, why I had to make it look like I didn’t care.
So does that mean you believe her, Summers? The suspicious voice in my head asks me, and the truth is I don’t know the answer to that question. I know that I desperately want to believe her, and such a short while ago I would never have had to think twice over whether or not I could trust her. But that doesn’t take away from what she did and I don’t know if I can ever forgive that, let alone forget.
The appalled expression on her face when I said those terrible things to her makes me sick of myself. I pace around the dark room that I’ve been locked in again. Scar had said that it wasn’t a prison, but it’s hard to see it as anything else when I have no way of getting out.
Ryan had barely been able to stop talking when we’d arrived back at the compound. We’d headed back into Wheels and he hadn’t even bothered to hide that he was rubbing coke on his gums as he ordered us a couple of beers. I’m pretty sure that I don’t imagine the looks of disgust some of the bikers give him as he gets high with the stash that they’re supposed to be dealing. But if Ryan notices, he doesn’t seem surprised or bothered by it.
“You should’ve seen her face!” Ryan tells the story over and over again. The words that I say to Aimee get worse at each telling and her reaction becomes more and more pathetic until I can’t take hearing about it anymore. It’s bad enough that I did it and I have to live with the memory of it. I don’t need a director’s cut doing the rounds with the bikers.
“I think I’m going to hit the hay. It’s been a long day.” I hope that my expression is rueful and not disgusted when I look at Ryan, but I soon realize that he’s too far gone to even notice the difference.
“Sure thing, Summers, sure thing. But tomorrow, we’re going to celebrate our new Patch! So rest up; you’ll need your strength!” Ryan laughs like a hyena at this and waves me away before turning to the pretty bar tender and trying to engage the poor girl in conversation.
I feel like I might have hit the jackpot and that I’m going to be able to slip away to figure out if I really do want to go see Aimee. But I underestimated the Angels, and that never ends well. Before I get to the door, a heavy hand lands on my shoulder, and from the sheer size of it I can tell it belongs to Spike.
“Here to escort me back to my suite?” I joke, but Spike’s clearly not in the market for hilarity tonight. He doesn’t even respond, just gives me a little shove in the direction of my one-roomed cell. I barely have time to walk in and turn around before I hear a bolt slide into place and then the familiar click of a padlock closing around it.
“So no bedtime story then,” I mutter under my breath, and sit down heavily onto the bed.
I already know what I want to do. I made my decision almost as soon as Aimee asked me to meet her at the shop tonight. There’s nothing that I want more than to see her. I want to apologize for the hurtful things I said to her. It had been too easy to say them, as if I was trying to punish her for the hurt that she’d caused me. It wasn’t right and she deserved better than that.
Did she think that you deserved better when she was boning Ryan? I wonder. I wish there was a way of turning off a part of your brain. Right now, I could do with shutting up the obnoxious voice in my head.
I pace around the room trying to figure out how to get out of this box, but I know it’s an impossible task. There’s one way in and one way out, and there’s no getting out without a key, which I don’t have. It’s a simple equation: Me + No Key = Screwed.
I’m well aware that if I don’t show at the body shop, I don’t know when I’ll see Aimee next. The idea of being apart from her, of not seeing her face, of not seeing the cute way she bites her bottom lip, gives me an actual pain in my chest. I know what she’ll think if I don’t show tonight. She’ll think that I meant all the terrible things I said to her, that I don’t want to see her, and that the words I called her are exactly what I think of her. She would be wrong. But if I can’t get out of this box then there’s no way of making her see that.
These thoughts are revolving round my head when I hear a murmur of voices from the other side of the door, followed by the click of a padlock opening and then the sound of the bolt sliding back. I jump off the bed, readying myself for whatever it is that the Angels are going to do next.
But it’s not an Angel that walks through the door. It’s Suzie.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t even bother to veil the contempt in my voice. I haven’t seen her since she’d managed to persuade me to go with the Angels without making a fuss, since she’d managed to convince me that Aimee had betrayed me.
“Just thought you might want to see a friendly face.” Suzie smiles lazily and for a split-second there’s a glimpse of the pretty girl that she used to be rather than the wreck of a person that stands in front of me.
“And that’s what you think you are? A friendly face.” I couldn’t sound any more sarcastic if I tried. “Go away, Suzie. You’ve done enough damage for a lifetime.” I lay back on the bed, throwing my elbow over my face and waiting for her to leave.
But I don’t hear her footsteps retreat; instead, it’s the opposite that happens. I can hear her footsteps advancing towards me until she’s standing by the bed. She looks down at me, her chin set in what looks like grim determination and then she does the last thing that I expected. She grabs hold of my belt buckle and deftly opens it, like she’s done it a thousand times. Uncharitably, I think that she probably has.
“Woah, there!” I jump back as if I’ve been burned. “What the hell are you doing?” I hold out my hand to stop her from advancing any further towards me.
“I thought it was pretty obvious what I’m doing.” Suzie looks flirtatiously at me from underneath her lowered lashes. “Why do you think that meat-head let me in? I told him I was your initiation present!” She laughs, but the throatiness sounds more like a harsh cough.
“Well then, I’d like to return the gift.” My voice doesn’t brook any kind of discussion. I don’t want there to be any mistaking what it is that I’m saying.
“Ah, come on Jake. You’re telling me you’ve never wondered what it is that you’re missing?” She sidles over towards me, her breath in my ear, her hand on my chest. I catch her hand in my own, stilling it before she decides to move it anywhere else. She looks like she’s taking this little exchange as flirtation on my part so I release her hand, unable to shake the feeling that I’ve done something wrong. “I saw the way you were looking at Blake at the bar earlier. You want her, don’t you? You can’t wait to have her.” Suzie whispers the words and, before she can advance any further, I stand up and guide her gently a few steps back from me.
“Suzie, don’t do this. Whatever you’re doing, this isn’t you.” I try to connect this girl to the one that I played with as a kid, but she’s almost an entire world away.
“Oh come on, Jake. No one would have to know. I won’t tell. After what Aimee did to you, what is there to think about?” Suzie twirls one of her greasy curls between her fingers and gives me a look that is probably supposed to be seductive, but it just makes me sad.
�
�Suze, I don’t know what you think it is that you’re doing, but I don’t want this. I’m in love with Aimee. I would never do this to her.” As I say the words, I realize how true they are. I know that I love Aimee more than I thought it was possible to love anyone. Only for that reason, she deserves for me to hear what she has to say.
“Good.” Suzie looks at me and nods as if this was the reaction she had been hoping for.
“Huh?”
“Close your mouth, Summers, you look like a goldfish.” Suzie puts her hands on her hips and there’s a ghost of a smile on her lips. She almost looks like the girl that I used to know. “Now listen and don’t talk; I know it’s hard for you, but that’s what you need to do. Wait here for five minutes and then walk out and grab your bike. It’s the last one on the right. Don’t start it straight away, wheel it out onto the path until you’re a hundred feet or so away, and then you can start it. Make sure you’re back by six. Understand?” She asks the question as she’s already turning back to walk towards the door.
“Yes—I mean, no. What’s going on Suzie? What are you talking about? Back from where?” The questions come tumbling out of my mouth and I wish that I didn’t feel like the one left out of the loop.
“You know where. Just remember, lover-boy, you’re not making a break for it. You need to be back here in the morning. I like my head where it is, thank you very much. I don’t have any intention of letting anyone put it on a stick.” She winks at me before disappearing back through the door.
I make a move to go after her and then I remember her instructions. I can hear voices on the other side of the door; it sounds like two or three different guys, all of them in various stages of drunkenness. I can’t make out what it is that they’re saying because their words are so slurred. But all of a sudden I hear Suzie’s voice clear as a bell.
“You can put it anywhere, boys.” And, as if by magic, the sounds of heavy-booted feet move away from the door.
“Suzie, what are you doing?” I mutter. I take a chance and slip out of the room before the 5 minutes are up and I see Suzie bringing up the rear, pointing some men in the direction of a dark outbuilding. Whatever it is that she thinks she’s doing, I can’t let her. Even if she’s trying to help me, her putting herself in that position isn’t right. I can’t have that on my conscience. I take a couple of steps in the direction that they walked off in but, as if Suzie had developed some kind of sixth sense, she looks over at me and her eyes lock with mine. She gives her head a firm shake and jerks her chin behind me, towards where she had told me to pick up the bike. Then, without waiting to see what I’m going to do, she disappears behind the building, following the men that she’d lured away from my door.
“Jesus, Suzie.” I breathe the words out in frustration, but I know that this is the only chance I’m going to get and I know that Suzie has given it to me. I hurry over to the bikes, recognizing the one that I’d been allocated until I have time to tool up my own. I follow Suzie’s instructions and push the bike down the path I probably wouldn’t even have seen if she hadn’t told me it was there. Looks like Suzie had figured her way out of the compound. I check my surroundings to ascertain that I haven’t been seen. When I’m satisfied that I’m alone, I swing my leg over the beast and start the engine, riding as fast as I can.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I sit on the edge of the bed, knees drawn up, replaying what Jake had said to me. I’m not doing it to torture myself, although that’s what it feels like. I’m trying to figure out what it is that I’d seen in his eyes, to see if I’d missed something. A signal that would give me some indication that he didn’t mean the things he said.
But every time I get stuck at the point when he told me he didn’t want to be with me and that we’re over. I had never known Jake to be cruel; he was the kind of guy that would bury a bird if it broke its neck flying into a window. He was the last person I would ever have expected to say those things, and I was the last person that I would ever have expected him to say them to.
It doesn’t matter, I remind myself. You went into this knowing that Jake may never want to be with you again. That was the decision that you made, that his safety and his life was more important than your relationship. I know that it’s the truth, but it doesn’t make it any easier to take.
My eyes go to the alarm clock by the bed. It reads 2:03 in the morning. I’ve lost any hope that Jake is going to do what I asked and come over to talk. Now I guess I just have to figure out how I’m going to deliver on what I’d said to the Feds. How am I going to get the information I need to nail the Angels? I feel like time is running out, like Jake is slipping further and further away from what he was and closer and closer to them. Whatever I’m going to do, I need to do it soon. This isn’t something that can wait.
All of a sudden, I hear a noise downstairs. My first reaction is to think that it’s Bill, but I know that he went home tonight--he’d left me a note telling me to call if I needed anything. That only leaves one other option: it’s someone that’s come here to get whatever they can get their hands on—money, valuables, or me. I race to the kitchen as I hear footsteps on the wooden stairs and grab the only knife that Jake had in his possession in the studio.
I realize too late when I look at the door that in my eagerness for Jake to appear, I hadn’t bolted the lock. It’s completely unlocked and on the other side is someone that’s ready to rob me or kill me or worse.
I lift up the knife, ready to defend myself if I have to and, as the door slowly opens, I rush forward. But as soon as I see who it is, I stop dead and the knife clatters to the floor, breaking the silence.
“You came,” I say the words breathlessly, drinking in the sight of Jake. I can’t stop myself from walking towards him as if to hold him.
But he stops me in my tracks. “I can’t just pretend like nothing happened. I need you to tell me.” His words come out through gritted teeth and I have to prevent myself from stroking the stubble on his chin.
I nod in understanding. I don’t have the right to touch him anymore—he’s not my Jake, not until he says so. I betrayed his trust, so it’s in his hands now.
“You might want to take a seat.” I motion towards the couch that we’d sat on together, made love on, our legs intertwined, our bodies so close you couldn’t tell whose limbs belonged to whom.
“I’ll stand.” The expression on his face is guarded, like he doesn’t want to give anything away until he has all the facts.
“Okay,” I take a deep breath and tell him the story. I tell him that Ryan had offered an exchange when he came over here that day—my body for Jake’s freedom. I don’t look at him as I tell the story. It’s easier to look at the floor. It’s hard enough to concentrate on the facts and not to get caught up in it all again, without dealing with meeting his gaze too. I tell him about going to Wheels and Ryan promising me that sleeping with him would guarantee that Jake wouldn’t become an Angel. I stumble at the part where Ryan told me to undress.
“Don’t leave anything out.” Jake’s voice wavers, like he’s trying to keep his emotions under control. “I need to hear it all.”
I keep my gaze trained on the floorboards and do as he’s asked. I tell him about undressing in front of Ryan and how cheap he made me feel. I tell him about Ryan wanting to take me from behind and that I’d resisted him. “That’s when he hit me the first time.” The words leave my mouth mechanically, as if replaying a tale of someone else’s horrible fate.
The loud crack! that resounds through the room makes my head whip up and I see Jake standing with his fist halfway through the plaster wall.
“Jake, what the hell—” I start, jumping up to take a look at his hand, but he stops me.
“Finish it. Tell me everything.” His tone is dull and he doesn’t look at his bloody hand as he pulls it away from the wall.
I rush through all that I have to say, skipping to the part where Ryan lost his erection and couldn’t get hard again. I tell Jake about how mad he got and ho
w he got increasingly drunker until he let slip that it had all been a trick, that he’d used me to bring Jake into the fold, to make him feel like he could trust them and not me.
“I… I shouted at him, mocked him for not being able to finish the job with me. I wanted to get to him, and I did. That’s when he hit me the second time.” Unconsciously, I lift my hand to my cheek. Telling the story is a little like re-living it and I feel the force of the blow that knocked me to the floor. “After that, I ran back here as quickly as I could. But you’d already gone.” I shrug and finally look up at Jake. “The rest, you know.”
Jake is leaning over with his hands on the back of the couch and I can see the deep breaths that he’s taking. I notice that he’s clutching onto the fabric until his knuckles go white. His right hand is starting to swell from punching the wall and it looks like he’s opened up a cut that was just starting to heal. I wonder how many walls he’s punched since he went with the Angels.
“Let me get you something for that.” I stand quickly and go about the kitchen, filling a bowl with some warm water and grabbing a towel.
A Dream of Summer (Bleeding Angels MC Book 3) Page 10