Scooter

by Marie James

  “I’m Jasmine,” she says in introduction, and like she’s taken a class on how to deal with traumatized women, she doesn’t offer her hand for me to shake.

  I’m grateful because it keeps me from feeling like a jerk when I refuse.

  “I’m Max’s girlfriend.” She grins. “I’m Max’s and Kingston’s girlfriend.”

  Her cheeks heat, turning the skin pink as if she’s still a little embarrassed by the new relationship.

  “Nice to meet you,” I whisper.

  Her head snaps back, and I know Max has told her that I don’t speak, but I’m trying to stick to my New Year’s resolution of interacting more.

  “I brought you some things I thought you could use, but I want you to tell me to get lost if you feel like I’m pushing too much on you too soon.”

  “Are you pushy?” I blurt.

  She grins as her shoulders lift. “Depends, I guess. I teach at the college, and young adults think everyone owes them something, so I guess at times I can be pushy, but that’s not my intention with you.”

  She drops a duffel bag on the floor and crouches over it.

  “I brought scarves.” Like she’s working with Mary Poppin’s bag, she pulls at least a dozen brightly colored scarves from the bag and places them on the foot of the bed. “If you go outside again, I don’t want your head to freeze.”

  I cringe at the idea that she’s uncomfortable with my newly shaved head. It must be hard to ignore the woman who looks like a G.I. Jane reject, only I have all the injuries and none of the victory.

  “I had to guess on your shoe size, so I left the tags on.” Two boxes of shoes hit the bed next. “If they don’t fit or if you hate them, just let me know, and I can swing by after work tomorrow and exchange them. Let’s see.”

  Jasmine continues to unload the bag, and I look up at Ryan. He’s watching me, face unreadable, and I know he’s trying to determine my mood before he responds to Jasmine and her offerings.

  I give him a gentle smile to let him know I’m not going to freak out on my brother’s girlfriend.

  “Max got you a phone. He’s already programmed his number in.” Jasmine looks up from the bag, handing Ryan the phone so he can hand it to me. “I will tell you that he urged me to ask you to call your parents, but I told him you’d do that when you were damn good and ready, but those numbers are in there as well.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her with a genuine smile.

  Ryan offers me the cell phone. I take it but immediately set it to the side.

  “I brought a ridiculous stack of trashy magazines because I know sometimes you need to get lost in other people’s bullshit while sorting through your own thoughts.” She pulls at least a dozen magazines from the bag. “I recommend this top issue of Cosmo. It has a great article on the do’s and don’ts of an amazing pedicure. It’s my philosophy that if your feet feel great, you feel great.”

  She smiles up at me, and I find myself grinning back at her as well.

  But then her face grows serious.

  “He, umm—” Her eyes dart to Ryan like she’s going to ask advice about something, but then she smiles, resolved, and looks back at me. “He also got you a canister of pepper spray, a taser, and a 9mm.”

  My eyes widen as she spreads the items to the side of the magazines. They look completely out of place, sitting beside the picture of the smiling women who are raving about the power of self-pleasure.

  My eyes dart to Ryan, but his face is once again unreadable.

  “If they make you feel safe, I want you to keep them,” he tells me.

  “You said I was safe here,” I argue.

  “You are safe here. I want you to feel safe,” he clarifies. “If you don’t and these things will help, I want you to keep them.”

  “I don’t know how to shoot a gun.”

  “I can teach you gun safety.”

  “I’m somewhat of an expert myself,” Jasmine interjects. “I can teach you a few things, as well.”

  “I won’t feel comfortable with them until I learn,” I mutter.

  “Not a problem.” Jasmine pulls the gun from the comforter and shoves it back in the bag as if it being out of sight will make me forget the woman offered me a gun. “Still want to keep the pepper spray and the taser?”

  I look back up at Ryan for answers, but he shakes his head. “This is your call. There isn’t one person on this property that’s going to cause you problems, but if you feel like you need them, then I want you to have them.”

  “I’m safe here,” I tell him rather than ask. “But I may want them if we go somewhere.”

  A smile begins to pull up the corner of his mouth, but he catches it, schooling his face back to impassivity.

  “Cool,” Jasmine says as she stands. “We can just shove them in the closet until you leave the clubhouse.”

  She opens the closet door and stashes the pepper spray and taser in the top corner before turning back to her bag.

  “I got you a couple of pairs of fur-lined leggings. I have these in navy, and they are amazing.” The bag continues to produce clothes and various items she thinks I need.

  “I was going to go make us lunch,” Ryan says, leaning over to whisper in my ear as Jasmine goes on and on about the body wash she pulls out next. “Do you want me to stay until she leaves?”

  I shake my head, keeping my eyes on Jasmine as Ryan leaves the room.

  “Good,” she says when Ryan leaves the room.

  My blood runs thin with her tone, but when I look back at her, she doesn’t have a sinister look in her eyes. She has a box of tampons in her hand.

  “Now that he’s gone, we can do the girl talk stuff. I got you the multi-pack, but if you let me know what you prefer, I’ll get you stocked up on those. I also got panty liners and regular pads.”

  “Thank you.” My eyes burn with tears, but I do my best to hold them back. I’m so tired of crying.

  She pulls a medium-sized pouch from the bag.

  “Don’t take this as me telling you that you need any of this shit, but I just wanted it available if you want it.” She hands me the bag, and it’s the first time she’s directly offered me something. I take it on instinct. “There’s a little makeup in there, but there are also some face creams. There’s Chapstick and cuticle cream. I tossed in a couple of samples of shampoos and conditioners that people rave about helping hair grow.”

  I watch her face, and although I can see concern in her eyes, what I don’t see is pity. I know I still have yellowing bruises on my face, but she isn’t focusing on any of that. She’s here to help, and she makes no apologies for that.

  “This is more than just because you’re my brother’s girlfriend,” I say, my eyes searching hers.

  “I was adopted by my older sister and Dominic. He’s the club president’s older brother,” she begins. “When I was younger, before Cerberus welcomed me with open arms, I lived with the Renegade MC. Those guys were awful. They hurt people. Hell, they hurt each other just for the thrill of it. I’ve seen women get hurt and abused. I was a coward then. I didn’t help. I stayed out of the way and huddled in the corner. I knew my time was coming soon. I felt the men’s eyes on me. Could almost read their filthy thoughts.”

  She shakes her head violently as if trying to dispel the vulgar thoughts.

  “How old were you?”

  “Eight when Dominic and Makayla got together.”

  “You were a child, not a coward.”

  She swallows as she stands, making her way closer to me. “And you were a woman overpowered by men who have spent their lives perfecting the ability to take women and hurt them. What happened to you wasn’t your fault, either.”

  She places her hand on my knee, giving it a slight squeeze.

  “Everyone will tell you to get better, to put it behind you, but until you forgive yourself for the things that were always out of your control, you’ll never be able to move forward. Start there, first.”

  Chapter 13

  Scooter


  “A week tops,” Jinx assures me as I take a loaf of bread from his hand.

  “I don’t know, man. I think we’ll be gone longer than that,” Grinch adds. “They still haven’t found Caroline Spring.”

  Caroline was one of the three girls we went after the last time we were in Venezuela raiding Xavier’s compound. The youngest girl, eleven-year-old Lupe, was found deceased. Caroline’s mission buddy, Maria Yves, the girl she was abducted with, was rescued.

  “It’s possible she was moved to the other Cortez compound,” I remind them. “Hitting them both at the same time means we’ll clear everyone out, but that’s a lot to coordinate, and I know it’ll take longer than a week.”

  “They’re constantly working on it,” Jinx tells me with a brotherly slap to the back. “Just because we’re not there doesn’t mean the work isn’t getting done. All we’ll have to do is show up, infiltrate, and fucking kill them all.”

  A throat clearing across the room halts all conversation. We’re usually pretty good about only talking about work when it’s just us guys. The meetings are great, but sometimes we have to step away for a while before we can process the information we’ve been given.

  Jasmine is standing in the doorway of the kitchen, and knowing that she’s left my room makes me work faster on Mia’s and my lunch, but before I can turn back to the ham and cheese sandwiches, Jasmine steps aside and Mia is standing there with her.

  She’s changed out of my baggy sweats into a pair of form-fitting leggings that hug her from the knee down. The top half of her legs are still covered with one of my t-shirts, and it makes me grin that she’s still in some of my clothes.

  “Ham and cheese okay?” I ask, rather than making it known how excited I am that she’s out of the room.

  We tried this yesterday, and it ended with her taking off. I vow not to let that happen again today.

  She nods, smiling at me before letting her eyes wander around to all the guys in the kitchen. They part, giving her room as Jasmine leads her to the furthest table in the corner. Mia sits with her back to the wall, facing all the guys, and without a word, the men move around, each helping her in any way they can.

  Jinx grabs a canned soda from the fridge and places it in front of her on the table, all the while keeping as much distance as possible.

  Rocker grabs several different kinds of chips and two different flavors of dips, and he also places them on her table. He also whispers an apology for walking into the kitchen yesterday without a shirt on, then pledges never to do that again.

  Grinch, weirdly named such because he loves listening to Christmas music year-round, grabs glasses for her and Jasmine both and fills them with ice.

  “Can you get me a glass of ice?” I teasingly ask Grinch.

  “Get it yourself, you lazy fucker,” he responds.

  Mia freezes, but when Jasmine leans closer to her ear and whispers something, she slowly begins to relax.

  “They’re barbarians,” Jasmine mutters as I hand Mia the plate with her sandwich on it. “But they’re mostly housebroken.”

  A small smile plays on my girl’s lips as she takes the plate.

  “I’m completely housebroken,” I tell her before stepping away to finish my sandwich.

  “Lies,” Tug says as he walks in the room.

  He’s mindful of Mia’s space, but it doesn’t stop him from swiftly crossing the room and planting his lips on Jasmine’s mouth.

  Mia watches them as they kiss and whisper to each other, but she doesn’t seem adversely affected by it. When Max enters next and does the exact same thing, her cute little nose scrunches up at the sight of her brother kissing someone. I chuckle, topping my massive sandwich with the second piece of bread before joining them at the table.

  Tug and Max are the opposite of Mia and Jasmine, so I sit on Mia’s left side.

  “Did you want extra pickles this time?” I whisper in her ear.

  “This is perfect,” she answers, her fingers toying with the corner of her bread. She’s yet to take a bite.

  “We can eat in the bedroom if you’re more comfortable there,” I offer.

  “I’m okay.” Her lips pull up in a quick smile, but it’s gone in a blink.

  I know she can feel Max’s eyes on her. Hell, I feel like they’re boring a hole in both of us right now, but neither of us acknowledges him.

  She’s dealing with his resurrection on top of her abduction, and I don’t think she knows how to process the two events individually much less at the same time.

  “French onion or cheese?”

  “What?” Mia turns in my direction. Her cheeks are flushed, and her breathing has grown more rapid.

  “Dip for your chips?” I point at the spread in front of her, but I don’t think the distraction is going to work.

  “No, thank you,” she mutters, keeping her eyes down on her sandwich.

  “I think we have bean dip in the fridge.” Pressing my hands to the table to stand, I’m stopped by Mia’s hand on my arm.

  When I look down, her eyes are begging me not to leave.

  “I’ll get it,” Jasmine offers, and it only takes a handful of seconds before she’s back, scooping some of the dip out of the container and placing it on Mia’s plate.

  Mia whispers a thank you, but I don’t think she’s going to eat a thing. There’s too much going on, too many people pulling her attention away from her meal. I’m seconds away from asking her again if she wants to leave, but she finally picks up her sandwich and takes a bite.

  She moans into her food. I’ve learned that ham and cheese is her favorite, and I’ll keep making it for her until she tells me she’s sick of it. In the hospital, I was worried she’d waste away to nothing. It’s why I started hand feeding her soup when they brought it to the room.

  Eventually, the other guys finish their lunches and begin to filter out of the room. As each one leaves, she grows calmer. Her muscles relax, and the steel rod forming her spine begins to soften a little.

  Max shows no sign of leaving. Nor does Jasmine or Tug.

  Before long, we’re the only five people left in the kitchen dining area, and even though Max, Tug, and Jasmine carry on an unassuming conversation, they don’t attempt to force Mia into their chat.

  But it only lasts so long.

  “I’m Kingston,” Tug says as he offers his hand across the table.

  Mia looks at it before darting her eyes first to mine and then to her brother. Neither one of us urges her to take his hand. I don’t know about Max, but I don’t want her to feel obligated to touch anyone she doesn’t want to.

  With a weak smile and slow movements, Mia shakes his hand, but she pulls it back quickly.

  “I’m…” My friend and fellow Cerberus teammate looks between the man at his side and the woman across from him, and the love in his eyes for both is as clear as day. “I’m theirs.”

  “I remember you, idiot,” Mia chuckles.

  My body freezes. I haven’t heard her laugh at all, but even her chuckles are few and far between since we met.

  “Just trying to break the ice. You can cut the tension with a fucking knife in here.” Tug gives her a smile that I have no doubt has stopped a lot of women in their tracks. Men, too, now that I’m thinking about it. “I’m really glad you’re safe, Pia.”

  Max’s eyes go wide, and I think he’s about ready to throw down with his lover, but Mia chuckles again. Twice in less than five minutes? Is the world coming to an end?

  “Really?” she playfully snaps at Tug. “I’m not twelve anymore. I think we’re all old enough to have a conversation without resorting to childhood nicknames.”

  “Pia?” Jasmine asks as she lifts a chip to her mouth.

  “Mia Pia,” my girl mumbles. “They were so mean to me as a kid.”

  “Mean?” Max says with a grin. “You’re the one that couldn’t take a hint. You followed us everywhere.”

  Mia glares at her brother, but I can tell by the sparkle in her eyes I’ve ne
ver seen before that she’s not angry with him.

  “I followed you around because I was bored, and because maybe I had a crush on Kingston.” Her cheeks grow redder with the confession.

  “Well,” Max chuckles, “apparently, so did I.”

  We all laugh at that, and the smile doesn’t leave my face as I watch them all interact.

  She hasn’t been this light or talkative. It’s amazing, but I also can’t help but wonder how long it will last. I think she’s happy, but I can’t judge the genuineness in her smile either.

  It doesn’t take long for the sparkle to begin to dim, and it’s as if the others at the table can sense her retreat back into herself. Jasmine stands, offering to clean up the kitchen, and her two men stay behind to help as we make our way out.

  Once in the safety of my room, I feel like I can breathe a little better. She didn’t insist on going to her room, and she doesn’t have that look in her eye that says she wants to bolt.

  She doesn’t make a move to climb into the bed. She just stands in the middle of the room and eyes it warily.

  “What’s wrong?” I inch closer, but at the same time keep distance between the two of us.

  It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It’s difficult to keep my own needs in check. She gravitated to me because she feels like I can protect her. I’m her savior, the man who carried her out of hell, but at the same time, I need to give her room to heal, and forcing my needs on her, the need to touch her, to tell her everything will be fine, to make her yearn for my warmth the way I yearn for hers is selfish. It can also be detrimental to her recovery. She has to set the pace and direction here.

  “I feel like I’m disrupting your entire life.”

  “You are,” I tell her honestly.

  She jerks, her body stiffening as she looks up at me.

  “Before you, I’d never lie in bed all day and watch movies. Before you, I wouldn’t be caught dead sleeping in clothes.” I wink at her with this information, but she isn’t seeing the playfulness I’m trying to display. “Mia Vazquez, you’ve turned my entire world upside down. I’ve gone on countless missions. Protected my country for years in the Marine Corps, and then you came along, making me feel legitimately useful for the first time in my entire life. I want to lie in bed with you and watch movies all day if that’s what you want.”