One Hundred & Thirty-Six Scars (The Devil's Own #1)

by Amo Jones

  I smile. “Meadow. And your name is… Beast?”

  He laughs. “Yeah, that’s the only name I’ve ever known.”

  Tilting my head, staring into his eyes and trying hard to ignore the sudden weight of my chest, I ask, “What does that mean?”

  Pushing his seat back, he shakes his head. “Nothing. Do you live in Westbeach? What are you doing here?” His face changes, eyes hardening slightly. “Are you with one of them?” He nudges his head at the door.

  “What? Am I an Old Lady?” I scoff, shaking my head. “Definitely not. Don’t get me wrong, I love some of the guys, they’re like family to me now, but no… definitely not.”

  Bringing my eyes up to his standing form, I notice a small smile on his lips.

  “What? Is there something wrong with dating a guy in a motorcycle club?” he asks in a mock tone with raised eyebrows.

  Dragging my eyes away from his, I run them down the leather vest that sits over his hoodie. Shaking my head again, I smile. “President, huh? I guess I should be surprised. But I’m not.” Standing from my stool, I shake my head, boring my eyes into his. “And to answer your question, no… the motorcycle club part doesn’t bother me. The dating part… does,” I answer, picking up the bottle from the bar, suddenly feeling like I need more of the numbness vodka is bringing me. Seeing Beast tonight has brought to the surface old feelings. Not toward my dad, but just feelings. Memories. The last time I saw him, he’d killed my dad. I want to celebrate seeing him, but then beat myself up about celebrating something that’s so tragic. As much as I hated Donald with all the hate I have inside of me, it was still a life that had been taken.

  I begin walking to the door, ready to talk with the girls when his voice stops me.

  “Wait… what does that mean? Dating? You haven’t…”

  I smirk over my shoulder. “A little personal? Don’t you think?” Before pushing through the bar doors and walking back down the wooden steps that set off the porch. I spot the girls sitting at the picnic table, the crowd is larger, louder, and drunker. Usually, this sort of environment wouldn’t sit nicely with me. But all those earlier drinks of vodka have obviously settled nicely inside me, morphing me into an easier version of myself.

  “Hey, you okay?” Phoebe asks from under Ryder’s arm.

  I nod my head. “Yeah, long looong story.” I chuckle, taking a seat beside her.

  She opens her mouth about to say something until her eyes divert to the door behind me. A smile pulls on her lips and I know she’s got something ticking in her brain. “We need to talk about this soon,” she answers, eyebrows raised.

  “Probably. But right now… right now, I need the comfort from vodka.”

  “Vodka?” Melissa asks, shocked. This is no surprise. I’m not a heavy drinker. When I drink it’s a couple of glasses of wine, not ‘walk outside a bar with an entire bottle of vodka, drunk.’

  Nodding my head, I answer, “Yeah. Just for tonight.”

  Phoebe’s eyes go behind me again, and I fight the urge to follow what she’s staring at. She smirks again, resting her eyes on me. “Hmmm. Interesting.”

  I point to her bottle. “How many have you had?” Phoebe smiling after finding out about Abby’s death is something new.

  She laughs. “Enough to do the running man.”

  “Please don’t,” Mellissa groans from her spot. “What if the paparazzi snap you doing it? Give them something else to pick on you for!” Melissa continues.

  Phoebe laughs. “Oh good. Maybe they’ll tell something truthful for once.”

  Since Phoebe and Ryder have been together, the paparazzi haven’t been all that nice to her. Being from a motorcycle club and all that.

  I take a look down at my bottle. Fixing my vision, I laugh. “Holy shit! I’ve drunk half a bottle of vodka!”

  Melissa and Nettie both laugh and Phoebe pats my hand. “Let loose girl, you’re safe here. Get it out tonight. But you will always be safe here. You could get batshit drunk and none of the SS men would touch you. Although…” her eyes drift behind me again, “…I can’t speak for a Devil.” She gives me a wink before raising her bottle to her mouth.

  A laugh erupts from my mouth before I can stop it. “I’m sorry. I think I’m drunk, and I don’t know why I just laughed. Shit.”

  They all erupt into fits, Ryder included, when Tommy takes a seat beside me. Tommy is the drummer in Twisted Transistor. He and I have established a close friendship. After he showed me New Home we spent a little time together. But it was only ever as friends, he and I both know that.

  “Hey,” he answers, flipping his cap backward and pulling his drink up to his lips.

  “Hey! How have you been?” I ask, with the sound of Delinquent Habits ‘Return of the Tres’ sounding through the speakers making me want to get up off my seat and do a dance, or attempt to.

  His eyes scan Ryder before setting back on me, glancing at the bottle in my hands.

  He laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, no way. Do I need to confiscate that from you?”

  My hands clench around the bottle.

  “No. No, you do not.” I raise it back to my lips and take another sip, letting the warm liquid once again, cover my throat before settling its burn in the pit of my stomach.

  Phoebe’s still laughing, when her eyes drift behind me and her laughing abruptly stops. “Err, hey? You okay?”

  “Yeah, Meadow? Come… I want you to meet some people.”

  Shit.

  Turning my head around, I see Tommy twitch in his spot before his head turns again.

  “Beast, I’m not really in a good fashion to meet new people right now,” I whisper to him, making the girls laugh again. I turn around and narrow my eyes at them. “Don’t be mean, what if I fall on my face?”

  “Well, if you fall face down, ass up… I’m sure they won’t mind.” Tommy winks at me. If it wasn’t Tommy who said that, I would have vomited in my mouth, but I know he’s joking.

  Beast, however, doesn’t.

  “I wasn’t asking you,” his voice is low, almost a growl.

  The laughing around the table stops and Phoebe shakes her head. “Calm down, Beast. They’re just friends.”

  “I didn’t say anything, Phoebs,” he retorts behind a smirk.

  “You didn’t need to,” she quips back.

  Silent conversation is exchanged between the two of them, before Beast lowers his hoodie from his head, showing his hair that’s a little longer than what I remember, but still quite short. He smiles at her before reaching for my hand. “Come, they don’t bite. Well… they don’t bite hard. But they bite where I tell them to, and they know you’re out of bounds.”

  Taking his hand, with the bottle of vodka in my other, I smile. “Thanks for that.” I meant it, I don’t like men hitting on me. Vodka or no vodka, I’d still find the situation uncomfortable.

  His face settles into an understanding smile. “No problem.”

  We begin walking before I realize my hand is still in his. Pulling it out, I laugh. “I have a feeling some of these guys already know about me?”

  “One, yes. He’s quite persistent on meeting you.”

  Oh, joy.

  I caught that hand pull from Meadow, that was bad form on my part and I know that. I’m here for three nights, or until this shit is semi-sorted with the Russians, so I plan on getting to know her a little more. It’s probably our past that’s playing a big part in the magnetic pull I feel for her. She brings out feelings in me that I’m not familiar with. I guess the only familiar way I can recognize those feelings are as I was with Jada, or Hella and the boys. Protective. Only with Meadow, it brings out a feral side of me that the devil himself wouldn’t want to cross, so when I saw that rock guy taking a seat beside her on the table, my body naturally made its way there. I didn’t lie, Hella does want to know who she is, but he didn’t care about it right now.

  Walking to the table where the guys are sitting, a mini campfire in the middle of us, I nudge my head down to the se
at next to me. Bringing my eyes to Hella, I run them back to Meadow.

  Fuck. I got a shock when I saw her.

  The girl standing in front of me right here isn’t the girl I left all those years ago. I remember those eyes. They still hold a beautiful haunting sadness in those bright baby blue depths. Her face shape is still the same square structure, and she has two perfectly deep dimples that sit on both of her cheeks. She’s fucking beautiful. It was hard to see it under the matted hair, ratty clothes and the severe situation that was happening around us before, but now as I gaze upon her she’s remarkable. I won’t go there with her, though.

  Hella nods his head to her. “Sup, are you Meadow?”

  Meadow nods her head, taking the seat beside me. “That’s me.”

  “So you’re the reason the big guy took so long to come home all those years ago?” he teases.

  Taking a large gulp of her drink, she nods her head. “I guess so.” She brings her eyes to mine, tilting her head. I can see the questions in her glare.

  Smiling at her I lean into her ear. “That’s Hella. He and I have been close since we were young. But he’s the reason we’re here. He knew Abby when she was little, both in foster care and all that.” When I bring my head back, my eyes divert straight to the red blush sprawled out across her cheek. Laughing, I lean back into her ear. “What?” Dropping my voice to a low growl. “This the first time you’ve had a guy this close to you?”

  Her head snaps up at me, eyes narrowed. “Yes, it is. But that’s by choice. I don’t need attention to make myself feel better.”

  Not able to contain the laughter that rips out of me, I swing my head back before bringing my drink back to my lips. “Hey, I didn’t say none of that.”

  Shaking her head, she brings her eyes back to the camp fire. “So Las Vegas, huh?” she asks, keeping her stare fixed on the fire, the warm waves coming from the flames covering my skin around the cold night.

  “Yeah. When I met you, I had only just found out who my real dad was. I needed some time to let it sink in, so I booked into the easiest and cheapest apartments.”

  She nods her head, leaning back into her seat and taking little sips of the vodka. I’m surprised no-one else has come to ask her who she is and all that. The boys were a little curious about who she was. They don’t know much about her, just that I stayed behind for her.

  “You know my story, what’s yours?”

  I laugh, stretching my legs out. “That’s in the fast lane a little, don’t you think?” I answer, squashing all the memories I have of my past down. The memories I can remember. Surely the serum would have worn off completely by now, but all I’m getting are the same dreams through the night. Little white gaps in between dark walls, but that’s where it all stops. Hella seems to think it’s because I don’t want to remember so my brain won’t let me. His flashbacks came within the first three months of us being out. He told me that it’s better I don’t remember all of it.

  I opt for changing the subject. “Do you live by the beach?”

  She smiles a small smile but big enough for those cute as fuck dimples to pop out. “I do.”

  “I figured as much.” I don’t know why, but I did.

  “Where are you guys staying while you’re here?” she asks, tucking her legs underneath herself. The way she holds herself is relaxed and natural. She doesn’t try hard. She doesn’t even wear hardly any make-up. Everything about her is natural.

  Pointing my beer at the clubhouse, I answer, “Up there. Why’s that?”

  Shaking her head, she takes another drink. “No reason.”

  “Yo! Beast, this fucker thinks he can take you in the ring!” Hannibal points at the pretty boy who greeted us here when we first got into Westbeach all those years ago.

  I laugh. “What’s your name?”

  “Travis.”

  Nodding my head and raising my bottle up to the rim, I laugh again. “Yeah, I don’t feel like creating another funeral. Not tonight anyway.”

  Strike one.

  Meadow stands from her seat, balancing herself on the rim.

  I stand quickly, taking her arm into my hand. “Wow, you okay?”

  She smiles. God, that fucking smile is killing me. “Yeah, I’m a little drunk. I’ll get one of the girls to take me home.”

  “I’ll take you,” I answer, standing from the log I was sitting on. The eyes I can feel boring into the side of my head don’t go unnoticed. All the boys will be wondering what the fuck has gotten into me.

  “It’s okay, really. I’m sure… well, I hope… one of them is still sober. Although, that’s highly unlikely.”

  “Yeah, so let me take you.”

  She points to my bottle. “You’ve been drinking, too!”

  “I’ve had two beers. Beer doesn’t get me drunk.”

  “All right then,” she answers. “I’ll just get my bag.” She walks off to pick up her bag and I’m still watching her when Hella and Hannibal step up to me, shoving me in the arm.

  “I’ll take you,” Hella mocks, taking a drink of his beer.

  “Fuck off, Hella,” I laugh, shaking my head. “I’m just making sure she gets home safe.” That’s a lie, I’m making sure drummer boy doesn’t take her home. I know he’s been drinking water the whole night and I noticed he’s been watching Meadow carefully. Don’t fucking like it, and I don’t know why.

  Throwing her handbag over her shoulder, she breathes out. “I’m ready. Wait! You’re on a bike?”

  We begin walking to our line of bikes when I chuckle. “Yeah, it’s fine. Just hold onto me tight and lean into the corners.”

  “Okay,” her eyes lighting up like Christmas. Handing her my helmet, I laugh.

  “You excited?” My gut was wrong. I thought she may have been scared.

  Her cheeks flush out as she unlocks the helmet. “A little.”

  Fuck! She’s cute as shit. Damn.

  “Where do you stay?”

  She rambles off her address and directions about how to get there.

  Swinging my leg over, I kick start my bike to life and look over my shoulder, ready to tell her how to get on, that’s until she’s already swinging her leg over and sitting comfortably behind me. Shaking my head, I grasp onto her from behind me and pull her arms forward, wrapping them around my torso. Her chest stiffens up against my back for a second before she relaxes and we pull out of the high iron gates.

  My brain is fuzzy from the alcohol speeding through it at electrifying pulses but I can’t wipe the grin off my face. Clutching onto Beast’s torso a little too tightly, I smile as the wind gushes past me, whipping my hair back. This is the first time I’ve ever been on a bike, and I gotta say, I’ve been missing out. The freedom, just you, these two wheels and the air of nothingness surrounding you. I have definitely been missing out.

  Beast pulls off down my street before pulling into my apartment beside the beach. I don’t own the bungalow, but it’s beautiful and it’s mine so that’s all I care about right now. He pulls down into our underground parking, the loud pulsing engine of his Harley vibrating and echoing through the walls. The sound is deafening. Yet, I can’t help but smile. I must be very drunk.

  Unclipping the helmet and fluffing up my hair, I pass it back to him. “Thank you for the ride.”

  He takes it, not moving off his bike. I try not to look too deep into his eyes, because every time I do, I feel like he knows my deepest and darkest secrets. Like the guard I surrounded myself in means nothing with him standing in front of it because it’s as if he sees past it. That’s probably because he knows such deep things about me, and it doesn’t bother me one bit. Also, having his massive tight body beneath my fingertips rose some unknown feelings in the pit of my stomach. I’m not ready to explore those yet, but I know how dangerously close I am getting to being burned.

  “No problem. Want me to walk you up?”

  I shake my head, trying to talk my brain into behaving itself. Beast is sexy, that’s a given. He has this dark, danger
ous, brooding, swag about him. I’m not sure how else to explain it but I feel something toward him that I’ve never felt. Again, that’s probably because we share such a deep memory together.

  “I’m okay, thank you, though.”

  His eyes narrow before he bites down on his plump bottom lip. Involuntarily, my eyes follow his motion. Something about him makes me feel safe. He makes me want to feel safe. This must be what girls feel like when they’re with their partners.

  Sheltered.

  “You sure?” he smiles at me.

  Nodding my head, I answer, “Yes, thank you. What are you hoping to do? Check under my bed for monsters?” I smile at him, steadying my feet.

  He laughs, placing his helmet on his head. “Waste of time, babe. I wouldn’t find any monsters under your bed. All the monsters live here,” he answers. “I’ll give you my number just in case, though,” he continues with a small smile. I see what he did there, but it doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable.

  “I don’t have my phone on me, it's upstairs, I’ll give you mine.”

  After rambling my number off for him, he pushes his phone back into his hoodie pocket under his MC cut. “Meadow, don’t go anywhere without your phone. I mean it.” The tone of his voice pulls me alert. He smiles. “I’ll text you.” Before kick starting his bike and riding out of the parking lot under the roar of his departure.

  Turning on my feet, I make my way into the elevator and push for my level. Smiling to myself, I think over what’s happened tonight—how much has happened. I can’t believe I’ve seen him again. The elevator dings open, and I walk out to my room, pushing open my door with my shoulders then relaxing. I didn’t realize how many nerves I’d been holding in. Removing my jacket, I hang it on the hook and walk into my kitchen that sits to the right as soon as you enter my apartment. Opening the fridge door, I take out a bottled water, taking a large drink before placing it back into the fridge. If there was anything I’ve learned from my party-lover best friends, it’s that you should always drink as much water as you can and pop an Advil before heading to bed.