by Bella Jewel
I feel every pulse of his cock as he finds his release.
The way it makes me feel is out of this world.
When we both come down from what would have to be the roughest and most anger-fueled sex I’ve ever had, we find ourselves in complete silence. The only thing I can hear in the dark night is the pouring rain that is still soaking us. I tip my head back and I can only just see him in the dim light coming from a nearby shed security light. His hair is stuck to his forehead and rain droplets roll down his face.
He’s incredible.
So fucking beautiful.
I open my mouth to say something, anything, but a bellow stops me.
“Alarick, fuck, you need to get over here now!”
Cohen’s bellow into the night has all the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. The way his voice sounds, the frantic nature of it, has me panicking almost immediately. Alarick steps back and is doing up his jeans in seconds. I find mine and hop and curse as I try to pull them up over my wet body. Alarick turns and runs in the direction of Cohen’s voice, and after a lot of angry curses, I get my jeans up enough and run, too.
When I reach the front of the club, all the guys plus a few random club whores are all staring at something on the ground. One of the girls turns around, her hand over her mouth, shaking her head in horror.
My heart jumps into my throat and I run closer, shoving past someone, I don’t know who, until I see what’s on the ground.
My entire world stops.
I don’t say that lightly.
Every single thing around me disappears. I can’t hear, I can’t think, I can’t feel. I don’t notice the droplets of rain falling onto my skin, I don’t notice the sounds of male voices yelling and shouting, I don’t notice anything.
I just stare down at her.
My sister.
My baby sister.
Lying in the dirt, her dead body.
I’ll never unsee the sight before me.
The gunshot wound in her forehead.
The way her body is bloated and a blueish shade.
The way her lifeless eyes stare into nothing.
The way her clothes are soaked and torn.
I’m screaming.
I don’t know I’m screaming until huge arms wrap around me, and I’m being pulled against a body, my face crushed into a familiar chest.
My screams are so frantic, I can’t even breathe through them.
“Get her out of here,” Alarick orders. “Now!”
He’s not talking about me.
He’s talking about my sister’s dead body.
“Magnolia!” I scream, trying to pull away from Alarick, but it’s no use.
He’s stronger than me, and he’s not letting me go.
He’s not going to let me look again.
With one quick movement he lifts me into his arms and strides inside the clubhouse. I’m still crying and screaming and clawing at him. I beg him to let me go, I beg him to let me see her, but he doesn’t answer me. He carries me into the main bathroom and he slams the door shut before placing me on the ground and standing against it, so I can’t run out.
“Let me out there, Alarick!” I scream, grabbing at his shirt and trying to pull him away from the door. “Let me go. Please. Please!”
“No,” he says calmly. “No, you’re not goin’ out there.”
“That’s my sister,” I wail and crumble to my knees. “My sister.”
Alarick moves, dropping down to his knees in front of me and taking my face in his hands, tipping my head back. I can barely see him through my tears. “We’re goin’ to find out who did this, and we’re goin’ to make them pay. Do you hear me?”
“She’s gone,” I sob, my body trembling all over now. “She’s gone. I didn’t help her. I should have helped her. This is all my fault. Magnolia, oh god.”
The door opens—I don’t hear who comes in.
Murmured voices echo through the bathroom, something about giving me something to calm down.
Alarick pulls me into his arms, and a moment later there is a sting in my right leg before I slowly start becoming numb from head to toe.
I sob.
I cry for my sister.
And then my entire world goes black.
“OH, HONEY,” KAREN SAYS when I emerge from a room at the clubhouse, my eyes bleary, my soul tired. “Come here.”
She rushes over and throws her arms around me.
I hug her, but I feel nothing.
I’m empty inside.
The last two days have been hell on earth. I have cried more than I ever thought possible. I have screamed. I have broken things. Now I’m numb. My heart is heavy, and my soul is dying. Magnolia was the only person I had left, the only family, and now she’s gone. She’s gone because I made a mistake. I went to the cops, I asked too many questions, I did all the wrong things.
I should have listened to Alarick.
I should have done what he said.
Maybe then Magnolia would be alive still.
Karen steps back and says in a gentle voice, “I’ll get you a cup of tea.”
She disappears, and I keep walking until I’m in the main living room where all the guys are still working tirelessly to figure out who did this.
I haven’t asked any questions.
I haven’t wanted the answers.
All I have been able to see is her body, lying in the dirt.
Dead.
I want answers now. I’ve cried all my tears.
I want to find whoever did this to my sister and make sure they never walk another day on this earth.
My bitterness is out of control, the numb emptiness in my heart is all consuming.
I stop at the group of men who are all discussing something quietly amongst themselves. When Mykel notices me, he nods and everyone turns around. Alarick’s eyes come to mine, and they’re showing a softness I haven’t seen from him since I’ve been home.
“I want to know what you know,” I say, my voice broken. “I want answers.”
“We don’t know anything yet, honey,” Mykel says, his voice calm. “All we know is someone dumped ...”
He trails off, realizing he’s not just talking about any old person, but my sister.
“Her body,” I go on, my voice flat. “They dumped her body at the club.”
He nods.
“She had been dead a few days,” Alarick says, his voice careful. “So if you’re thinkin’ it’s because you went to the police station, it ain’t. Her body looked water-logged, like it had been dumped and somehow dragged back up again. No fuckin’ idea, but it wasn’t fresh. There was a note in her pocket that warned us to keep out of it. That was it.”
I feel like I’m going to vomit.
I grip my stomach and wince as the pain of acid burning my throat has me clenching my eyes shut for a second.
“I’m sorry,” Alarick tells me. “Know this is fuckin’ hard for you.”
I nod, keeping my eyes clenched shut, and then after a few shaky breaths I open them and say, “I want to be part of this. I want to find whoever did this to her. I will follow your lead, do as you wish, but please let me be part of this.”
“That’s Mykel’s call,” Alarick tells me. “He’s the one who makes the calls in regard to this shit. He’s the Sergeant In Arms.”
I look to Mykel, and for a moment, he looks confused. Like it’s the worst idea he’s ever heard of. I get it, I really do. He doesn’t think I can handle it, hell, I don’t even know if I can handle it, but I also know that I can’t sit back and do nothing, either.
I need to do this for her, for Magnolia.
“Okay,” Mykel says, his voice a little hesitant still. “But you do every single fuckin’ thing you’re told, one instance of you not doin’ it, and you’re out. You hear me?”
I nod.
“Where ... where is her body?” I ask them, a question I’ve been dreading since the night they took her away.
“It’s at the m
orgue, honey,” Kendric says, finally speaking. “We took it there because we wanted you to be able to bury her properly. A full service.”
“Doesn’t that mean the police are now involved?” I whisper, my eyes burning with unshed tears.
I didn’t think I had any left.
“It does,” Alarick answers. “But it’s nothin’ we can’t handle. You don’t need to worry about that side of it. We weren’t goin’ to dump her or bury her somewhere else. She deserves a proper burial and you deserve to give her a funeral.”
I make a low, sobbing sound and then step forward, wrapping my arms around Alarick’s middle section. He responds quickly, putting his arms around me and hanging onto me tightly.
What he did. Risking his club and all the questions that will follow, just so I could do the right thing by Magnolia, means so much to me.
It means the damned world.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Anytime,” he murmurs.
I pull back just as Karen walks into the room with a cup of tea. She gives me a little smile and hands it over, and I take it with a small thank you.
“Where do we go from here?” I ask.
“We try and find out her last movements, try and figure out where she was and who dumped her here. We can rule out Constable Bennett because she was most certainly dead before you went and spoke to him. Doesn’t mean he ain’t involved, it just means that we can assume you talking to him didn’t trigger this.”
“What if it did, though?” I say softly. “What if he knew where her body was and wanted to make a point ...”
Everyone falls silent, probably because they know what I’m saying rings true. If I did make things worse by going to Constable Bennett then he may very well have pulled my sister’s body from wherever she was dumped and delivered it to us. That’s what those sorts of people do, right? They make a scene. They let us know that they’re not going to be messed with.
“She has a point,” Samson murmurs. “There is a chance that it was still the cop.”
“Look into it,” Alarick orders Cohen. “See what you can find, the sooner the better. He shouldn’t be out there roamin’ the damn streets if he’s doin’ this shit.”
“On it,” Cohen says, turning and walking out of the room.
“I’m goin’ to start askin’ questions, see if I can find out if anyone had seen her,” Samson says, nodding at Kendric who follows him out the door.
I look back to Alarick and he exhales, running a hand through his hair. “We’ll go and talk to everyone you have spoken to already—someone knows something and they’re simply not tellin’ us.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“I’ll ask a few of Magnolia’s friends, I know a heap of them, see if anyone will give any new information,” Karen offers.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
My head is pounding.
Every thump reminds me that I’ve got a tumor that needs to be dealt with. I know I should be doing it now; I was putting it off until I found Magnolia but I have found her now and there is no reason for any more delays. The appointment is in a week, and nobody knows yet that I’ve even got a condition.
Now seems like a really bad time to tell them.
I need to lie down and rest.
“I’m going to get some more sleep,” I murmur, my voice dull and flat. “Let me know when you find something.”
I turn and walk back into the room where I take painkillers, jerk the blinds shut, and crawl into the bed.
This has to get better eventually, right?
Or am I going to feel this way forever?
15
THEN - BRIELLA
“Nobody has seen her for days,” Alarick tells me when I roll into the clubhouse a few days after all hell broke loose at Aviana’s house.
We’ve looked high and low; nobody has seen her.
It’s like she just disappeared.
I don’t even know where to start, let alone who she might know that she could be with.
We’ve tried the little family she had left, but none of them claimed to have seen her. Wherever she’s gone, she’s either done it on purpose or someone has her.
The idea that someone has her makes me feel sick to my stomach.
“Do you think someone has her?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “It’s hard to know without knowing what happened.”
“You know what happened, Flick, I told you. Your dad was part of this, if anyone knows where she is, it’s him.”
“He wasn’t there, Bri.”
“You’re still defending him?” I whisper, narrowing my eyes and expressing my hurt through my gaze. “Even after I told you exactly what happened that day.”
“You didn’t see anything. Aviana did, but she’s not here to tell her story. King told me he wasn’t there, I believe that.”
“Did he tell you he wasn’t involved?”
“Briella ...”
“He’s mixing his words so he doesn’t have to come outright and say it, but he was calling the shots with that murder and he was the reason they were at that house to begin with. He’s lying to you.”
“I trust my father, and if he isn’t giving me information there is a reason for it. He’s not a cold-blooded killer, Bri. If that family all died, there was good reason for it.”
I shake my head, angry and frustrated that he doesn’t have my back. Everyone is going about their business, trying to convince me that I’m basically losing my mind and that I don’t know what really happened.
I was there.
I know what happened.
I know what I heard.
King has something to do with this, I just don’t know why everyone keeps defending him.
“You know what, I’m not getting into this with you,” I say, turning and walking toward the front door.
“Briella, wait,” Flick calls, following me out to my car.
“Don’t,” I say, spinning around and glaring at him. “Don’t you come after me when you’re not hearing me out. You’re not even trying to understand my side of it. You’re always just going to defend your dad and this club. I’m not going to matter more.”
“You’re wrong about that,” he growls, crossing his arms. “I care about you more than you could ever fuckin’ know, but I trust my dad and I know there are things about certain situations that you don’t understand. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I’m sorry you got caught in the crossfire of whatever the fuck went down with Aviana’s family, but hatin’ my dad for it isn’t going to make it go away.”
“I hate him because he’s a god damned monster. He ordered an attack on a family and left my friend to suffer alone. She has nobody left now, that’s if she’s still alive. He put her in danger. He didn’t check that she was safe before carrying out his dirty work. He is to blame for this and nothing you can say will make me change my mind.”
Alarick exhales. “You’re makin’ this so fuckin’ hard for me.”
“No, Alarick, you’re making it hard on yourself. You won’t admit your dad did wrong and was careless and cruel. You’re too wrapped up in this world.”
I get into my car and he slams the side of it with his fist, frustrated, as I back out.
I drive out of the lot and pull out my phone, dialing Aviana again. I know she’s not going to answer, I know that, but I can’t help but hope.
I don’t know what’s happened to her, but I do know that she didn’t deserve any of it.
She didn’t deserve to see that.
She didn’t deserve to lose the last people she had left.
She just didn’t deserve any of it.
I get back home and pull up on the curb just in time to see two men in a car, reversing out. For a moment, I think maybe it’s one of mom’s friends, but when their eyes meet mine and I see the evil coldness in their gazes, I know that’s not the case. They disappear down the road before I can even get a good look at them.
I get out of the car and rush
toward the house, calling out for my mother.
Who were those men, and were they here to hurt her?
Or did she know them?
Something is very very wrong.
I push the front door open and keep calling out for my mom as I rush into the kitchen and the living area.
She isn’t in either.
I run down the hall but stop dead when a smeared and bloodied handprint lines the hallway wall, like someone has been dragged down it and tried to stop themselves. My heart jumps into my throat as I round the corner and there, lying flat on her bed, is my mother. She’s covered in blood, so much so she’s almost unrecognizable. Her face is battered and bruised, her throat is slit and her clothes are ... gone.
I don’t realize I’m screaming.
Not until my voice gets hoarse and I start to cough.
I rush over to my mother’s lifeless body and shake her a little. She makes a gurgling sound.
“Mom!” I scream.
She’s still alive.
I pull my phone from my pocket and dial an ambulance, and then, I dial King.
“What is it, Briella?”
“Mom,” I sob, my voice breaking. “She’s ... someone came in and ...”
“Calm down,” King orders, his voice hard and worried. “Tell me what happened.”
“Someone tried to kill her.”
“I’m coming.”
I drop the phone and carefully lift my mother’s head into my lap. There is so much blood I don’t even know where it’s coming from. She’s making a terrible gurgling sound and there is blood leaking too quickly from the wound on her neck. Tears run down my cheeks as I hold her gently, praying that she makes it through.
Praying that she doesn’t die.
The paramedics arrive minutes later, and I’m removed from the room as they work on her. With a trembling body, I lean against the wall and stare into the room as they try to stabilize her. A moment later, King runs down the hall, his face pale, his breathing frantic. He takes one look at me and his face drains of all color. He turns slowly, and glances into the room, and I hear his sharp intake of breath.