by Marie James
Focused, I head down the hall, straight through the common space where the party is still in full swing, and right out the front door of the clubhouse. My heels only sink into the gravel of the parking lot once as I stride toward the gate that has held me prisoner for far too long. Determination is on my mind, but my throat hasn’t gotten the memo.
“Pete, open the d-damn gate,” I stammer.
“No can do Sweet-Tart,” comes from the other side. “Briar just texted and said you have two minutes to get your ass back inside before he has to report your absence to Prez.”
With the way that Lynch was acting earlier, I don’t imagine that he cares if I leave.
“Lynch wants me gone,” I argue.
“Let me verify,” Pete says, and I imagine he’s sending a text message to the asshole inside.
“Forget it,” I hiss and turn back around. Seeing Lynch again, either with the confirmation that he wants me gone or in some possessive fit to keep me here, isn’t what I want. Plus, it’s after midnight, and I don’t have any other place to go.
No one seems to notice me when I walk back inside, my eyes searching for my friend. She’s right where I left her, only the group of people around her has thinned out. I know where one of the girls is that I’d considered a friend a few short hours ago. I push down the pain and sense of betrayal Xena has caused this evening and walk toward my friend.
“Are you ready to go back to the house?” I ask Molly the second she looks at me.
Her frown is telling. I’m not hiding my distress as well as I need to.
“I think going to bed is a great idea.” I don’t even look at Briar as he walks up behind my friend.
Molly’s expectant eyes turn to Briar, and I notice her inability to turn her head without swaying on her feet. She’s still drunk. And why wouldn’t she be?
She didn’t get used and practically slapped in the face right after having sex with someone. Briar doesn’t touch the girls. He doesn’t call one of the women in to suck his cock while she watches, and I don’t imagine he’d replace one hole to fuck with another only moments later.
If you had pleased him, he wouldn’t need Xena for a follow-up fuck.
My masochistic brain chooses now to stab me in the back. Fresh tears pool on my lashes as my brain works on another memory. Vixen sucked him off, and he was still hard. One woman is never enough to please him. A weak smile attempts to form at my lips, but I’m just too over today for it to come to fruition.
I’m not the problem.
Xena isn’t the problem.
Vixen isn’t the problem.
Lynch is a bitter, emotionless prick who’s never satisfied.
That shit is on him, not us.
The only difference between Xena, Vixen, and myself is that I’m not here to service him whenever he calls. Lynch just became my first one and done. What’s good for the goose and all that.
“To bed, Molly.” Briar catches my friend’s arm and turns her toward the kitchen.
“Dream about me,” she slurs as I wrap an assistive arm around her waist.
“Every fucking night of my life,” he mutters as we walk away, but I don’t think she heard him.
The trek to the house takes forever. Ronan chats with us some when we get to the kitchen, and navigating the steps off the back porch seems more like trying to walk under water.
TJ is reclined in one of the rocking chairs on the front porch of Lynch’s house. Legs, as if it’s her new mailing address, is settled between his feet with her lips wrapped around his dick.
I ignore them and don’t think Molly even notices as we walk past them and into the house. I’m counting the minutes until I can leave this damn place and put Lynch far behind me.
Chapter 17
Lynch
“Did you hear a damn word I just said?”
Looking over at Briar, I just stare.
I stopped listening the second he mentioned Candi.
“She’s not cut out for this type of life, man. If she wants to leave, you need to let her go.”
“Boston needs help with the books,” I counter.
“Hornet isn’t even working on the books.” Anger rushes over me. That motherfucker knows what his expectations are. “And before you wrap a fucking noose around his neck, keep in mind you sent him to Detroit for a damn week. He can’t get shit done if you don’t let him work.”
A grunt is all he gets in concession.
“But seriously, man. I know you’re an unhappy person, and nothing ever fucking goes right for you, but you’re extra surly lately.”
“You have more important things to worry about than my mood,” I mutter as I bring my cup to my mouth and swallow down the hot creamy mixture.
Briar stared at me when I bypassed the sugar and creamer and dropped a dollop of French silk ice cream into my cup this morning. I didn’t explain a damn thing to him. There isn’t one person in this world I owe an explanation to.
That’s a lie, the little voice in my head whispers.
“You could concentrate more on the club if you let her go.”
“Brother,” I warn. “Are you questioning my devotion to this club?”
“I would never,” he answers immediately. “You just seem unhappier than I’ve ever seen you.”
“I’m always unhappy,” I remind him.
That’s a lie, the little voice in my head whispers again. I wasn’t unhappy last night when my cuffs snapped around Candi’s wrists, and her eyes dilated with need. In fact, I was in heaven. Not one single other thing filtered through my mind when she took me to the root, and her cunt fisted my cock like she never wanted me to leave.
“You don’t have to be.” He doesn’t make eye contact with me, and I’m grateful for the reprieve from his scrutiny.
“You are one miserable motherfucker. You don’t have any room to talk.”
It’s his turn to grunt in reply.
At least I have an outlet. I can pick a girl or leave the clubhouse for some new pussy, but he’s just existing, alone, except for the camaraderie of the other bikers and his work.
“I was wondering if I could head down to Miami. Try to build rapport with the Colombians.”
“No.” I reject his request immediately. “We haven’t heard back from Jiménez, and until that happens, we aren’t stepping foot in Florida.”
“I can’t sta—”
“You’ll go where I need you.” My tone doesn’t leave room for argument, and he doesn’t test the boundary. “I have something I’m sure you’re going to want to take care of. I didn’t want things to get derailed for Detroit, but we need to talk about why Molly is back home.”
We are outside in the open, but I feel the air shift around us immediately.
“Prez.” His voice is rough with emotion already. “Tell me she got kicked out because she couldn’t pass Biology.”
“I wish I could.” Avoiding eye contact with him, I keep my eyes focused on the closed basement door in the distance.
“Is she pregnant?”
“No,” I answer immediately. “She’s still a virgin.”
“Thank fuck,” he spits, and I don’t know if he’s relieved she isn’t going to be a teen mother or if it’s an answer to a question he hasn’t asked yet.
“The rape kit from the hospital came back negative,” I add.
The wood of the chair arms groans under his grip.
“She and Candi went to a party a couple miles from school.” I swallow and clear my throat twice before I speak again. “Molly was drugged, but Candi got to her in time. They left, but not before Candi set the house on fire. There were three guys lurking over her by the time Candi made it upstairs.”
“Tell me the sick fuckers didn’t die in the fire,” he begs.
A menacing smile spreads across my face. His mind has gone exactly where mine went when Molly cried through her recollection. After noticing my face and knowing I was already making plans, she’d made me swear I wouldn’t go after the guys. I
promised her I wouldn’t lay a finger on them, and I keep my word.
“Smalls did some research, and thankfully all three of them are alive and well,” I answer.
“Perfect.”
“I figured you’d rather head to Andover than Miami. How much time do you need?”
A wicked grin tilts the corners of his mouth. “It’ll take a few days.”
Satisfaction, or as much as I will allow myself to feel, spreads through me. Andover is only an hour away. If he wanted, he could leave now and be back in time for lunch. If Ravens Ruin was a corporate setting, I’d give him a bonus for his dedication to his job, but we aren’t that civilized. Their blood on his hands will be payment enough.
“The police are looking for Candi. They don’t have a clue that she could be here.” I turn my head in his direction. “I can’t let her leave because she isn’t safe.”
“Have you shared this information with her?” My head shakes. “Don’t you think she should know?”
I nod. It’s an agreement to tell her soon because I can’t tell him the truth. I can’t confess out loud that I want her to be here because she wants to be here, that the way I treated her last night is the exact opposite of how I feel.
“She needs to know,” he urges. “She tried to leave here last night. You would’ve felt like shit if she left and got picked up by the damn police.”
“I’ll fucking tell her,” I grunt.
We settle back into our rockers as the sun finally clears the horizon.
“Are we just going to leave the other matter open-ended?”
“No,” I grunt.
I know what he’s going to ask. I know exactly where his head went the second I mentioned Molly being drugged.
There are aspects of our business, of my father’s business specifically that he’s never been happy with. He was silenced years ago and has bided his time, but he’s not going to go uncensored again. Not after what happened to my sister.
“Are you going to tell me it’s a process, and that shutting down an operation this size is going to take time?”
“No.”
“Has it already been taken care of?”
“For the most part.”
“Can you give me a little more information?” He’s agitated but questioning how I’ll react once our business has hurt someone so close to me is infuriating.
“Give me a minute,” I hiss as I lift my coffee to my lips.
He waits in silence as I finish my coffee and calm down. He’s right. I am on edge, and although I’ve never once regretted stringing someone up by their fucking neck before, something low in my gut tells me that Briar swinging from the end of my rope might cause me some mild discomfort in the end.
“This should be discussed in church,” I begin, feeling exhausted just looking at the back of the clubhouse, “But I don’t fucking feel like walking over there.”
He doesn’t respond, well aware that any interruption will only leave him waiting longer.
I hate that my cup is empty, but I won’t risk licking the rim of the cup in front of my VP.
“All shipments of GHB and ROH have been canceled. After Smalls collected the information in Andover, he made the rounds and collected the remaining supplies.”
“To be stashed somewhere until the sting wears off?” he interrupts.
“My position is quickly changing on whether or not to walk your ass to the basement. A few minutes ago I didn’t because I’m fucking tired, but I seem to be gaining energy each and every damn time you open your fucking mouth.” I turn my head to glower at him.
Faith in my friend grows exponentially when his hard eyes don’t change, and in the determination, I also sense the accusation. The idea that some of our very own dope could’ve ended up in Molly’s system, compromising her safety, has weighed heavily on me for the last two weeks. I’m sick with the idea of it all, nearly debilitated at turning a blind eye to the fact that our products have been used to help sexually assault women for years. I’m so fucking hypocritical in my vow to never physically hurt a woman. Knowing I’ve let others hurt them by proxy is almost enough to wrap the fucking rope around my own goddamned neck.
But, I’m so fucking tired. Too tired to do even that.
Briar was the only one who stood up to my father when one of his original crew members recommended switching from liquid GHB to Rohypnol capsules. It was the same day he saw my father lift his gun and shoot me without another word. After what happened with Molly, I know he’s not willing to back down again.
“The drugs have been buried in the Chasm. It’s the best we can do right now. I don’t trust anyone else to destroy them, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s the only thing that can be done.”
“And the molly?”
I wince when he mentions the ecstasy, knowing that my fucked-up father thought it would be damned hilarious to name his daughter after the drug that put Ravens Ruin on the distribution map.
“I don’t know many women purposely taking roofies to get gang raped. Most women interested in the group thing, I feel, want to be awake when it happens. Molly is taken to stay up and party. I don’t think it’s on the same playing field.”
He nods, expecting my answer.
“So it’s all off the streets?”
I frown. “We’re planning a trip back to Syracuse tomorrow. The house there didn’t hand over all of their product like they were instructed. When the guys stopped by last week, they didn’t know that Smalls had already been through there to confiscate the GHB and ROH.”
“That’s why you looked irritated when Chains mentioned them in church last night.” I nod. “And Smalls actually told you all of this.”
I smile because he knows better. Smalls rarely ever fucking talks. “He sent it in an encrypted email that was harder to read than a fucking encoded kite in prison.”
“Wouldn’t know,” he says standing with a quick tap to my back. “I’ve never been to prison.”
“Keep it that way.” He looks back over his shoulder at me. “Dead is dead. Remember that when you get to Andover. We need you here, not serving life in Cedar Junction.”
Chapter 18
Candi
Leaning in closer, I press a finger to the bags under my eyes. Even in the perfect light in Molly’s bedroom, I can see dark circles under my eyes. I can’t blame the shadows on low lighting.
“Gross,” I mutter as I reach for her foundation and brush.
The brush falls to the ground when a loud knock, followed by hushed whispers and a giggle come from the other side.
“It’s open.”
Refusing to face them, I bend over to grab the brush.
“Where’s Molly?” I point toward the bathroom, unable to face Xena when she asks.
I’m not mad at her. She lives here. She works here. Last night she was only doing what was asked of her. I’m just upset over the entire situation.
“Hangover?” Legs asks.
“I didn’t know you took your mouth off TJ’s dick long enough to notice us walk by last night,” I tease her.
She giggles, turning her eyes to her hands. “I didn’t. He just said something about it later.”
“No,” Molly grunts as she opens the bathroom door and sees the other girls in her room. “I don’t have the energy for anything today.”
“Don’t put that on,” Xena orders, touching my arm before I can lift the brush to my face. “We’re having a salon day.”
“We get to leave?” Hope fills my voice as I finally turn to look at her.
Her small smile fades. “We have a room with amenities at the clubhouse.”
I scrunch my nose at her, but the broken nail on my hand pleads with me.
“I could use a pedicure,” Molly says, “But the second my stomach rolls from the chemical smells, I’m leaving. The last thing I need is to throw up.”
“Again,” I clarify. “You’ve been barfing all morning.”
Molly flips me off before whipping her t-shirt over
her head and getting dressed.
“Xena calls it a room, but it’s incredible.” Molly smiles at me with a quick nod of her head as if I need to be encouraged to be pampered. “Hands, feet, face, massages. Anything you can think of.”
“Waxing,” Legs sighs.
“I do it all,” Xena says holding her hands out. “You in?”
Her look is pleading as if she’s begging me not to be mad about last night.
Teasing, but with a brazen edge, I hold up my broken middle finger. “I’m a little pissed I’m just now finding out about this damn room.”
“Prez mentioned your broken nail last night.” Her jaw snaps shut. “I promised him we’d get it taken care of.”
I have no idea how I should feel about this news. I just push it out of my head and give her a weak smile.
“Are you going to change?” Legs asks as I walk toward the door.
“Change?” I look down at the yoga pants and tank top I’m wearing. “Why should I change?”
“All of the guys are around. You don’t want them seeing you so—”
“So what?” I snap.
“Relaxed?” Her eyes dart to Xena for help.
“I’ve got no one out there to impress,” I mutter before heading out into the hallway.
“Sometimes more is less,” Xena says at my back as we walk down the stairs. “Her ass looks great in those leggings, and there’s no way to hide that fantastic rack of hers.”
“True,” Legs agrees as we make it out on to the front porch, but I can tell she doesn’t fully agree.
“This is amazing.” With my eyes closed, I tilt my head back on the headrest. “I could spend every second in here.”
The bubbling heat around my ankles is blissful, and I’m in line to have a massage by Xena once she’s done torturing Legs during her waxing.
“Oh hush,” Xena snaps when Legs yelps like she just ripped her clit off. “It doesn’t hurt that bad.”
“Any idea what color you want?” Vixen has been taking care of my nails while my feet soak in the salon grade pedicure chair. Molly groans, totally relaxed beside me in an identical chair.