by Debra Kayn
Jett refused to join in the conversation. He'd remembered the devastation that followed Rollo's murder.
Just because his father had become involved with a child and planned every step of his life while waiting for Johanna to grow up didn't mean Jett wanted to repeat the pattern. He'd be the first to admit that what Chief and Johanna had together went past understanding. It was a connection based on need, despite the age difference. They'd both recognized something in each other from the moment they met, and that was it for them. Nobody else existed.
Sydney was younger than him, and that's where the similarities with his father and Johanna's relationship ended. She'd been dropped on him without any thought. He could've walked away that night at the travel trailer. He hadn't needed to protect her and kill Victor Clark or get his MC brothers' money back.
He had no desire or inclination to wait until Sydney grew up and hope she turned into the perfect woman for him. Stripped of her makeup, her defense, he'd recognized her hitting her limit. A limit he'd never force her to exceed because there would be no way back.
There was a difference between teaching her and scarring her.
"She walks away with a club secret that holds your freedom." Chief stepped forward, stopped, and turned back to his son. "Don't sacrifice yourself for another."
He moved to the opening of the gate and looked down the road. Sydney, in typical rebel mode, walked down the center of the asphalt.
Taking his cell out of his pocket, he called his brother.
Thorn picked up on the third ring. "Yeah?"
"I need you," said Jett.
"Where are you?"
"I'm at the gate." He disconnected the call.
Keeping his gaze on Sydney, he went over his options. She wouldn't set foot close to town for at least forty-five minutes, but he didn't want her out of his sight. The way she threw away her safety in favor of doing what she wanted, when she wanted, made it necessary to hire a damn babysitter to follow her around.
Sydney veered off the dotted line running down the center of the road. He squinted, studying her, and caught her looking over her shoulder.
His father was right. Sydney wanted to stay at Brikken.
He'd dealt with smarter men who'd come after the club. Survived eighteen months in a state penitentiary. Participated and dealt out Brikken punishments and helped secure one of the biggest illegal chop chains.
Yet, he couldn't figure out what burden Sydney carried that she'd willingly go up against Brikken and throw away her life for a chance to walk away from him. From the club.
At sixteen years old.
Being a female.
Half child/half woman.
Danger lurked around every corner.
Shore greeted Thorn. Jett glanced at his brother's approach and directed all his attention to the lone figure walking away.
"What's up?" asked Thorn, stopping beside him.
"Sydney." He lifted his chin, directing his brother to look down the road.
"She's leaving?"
"She thinks so." He inhaled deeply. "I need you and D-Con to go after her and bring her back."
Thorn chuckled quietly. "You can't control her?"
If he controlled her, he'd lose control. He stared at the spot in the road getting smaller and smaller. If nothing else, he knew his limitations.
Cross that boundary, and he lost sight of what was in front of him. Since prison, his brain went into survival mode when he let his anger or fear escalate, and he'd take anyone down that tried to stop him.
Sydney brought something out in him that tempted him to step over the line. He knew it, and he owned it.
"I want her back." He looked at his younger brother. "Unharmed."
"Don't worry. I don't have a thing for children." Thorn took out his phone. "Unlike you and Chief. The genes stopped after inheriting our father's good looks."
"Fuck you," he muttered, being ignored as Thorn put in the call to D-Con.
He enjoyed women. When he wanted to have sex, he never searched out the twenty-something-year-olds to fulfill some kink. He took whoever was free and willing, whatever their age. Hell, he'd had women older, younger, and two at a time.
He never planned to need Sydney.
"We're taking off." Thorn slapped Jett's back and motioned to the road. "She's about three minutes from the corner. We'll catch her."
"Don't hurt her." He turned away from the road. "Bring her up to my room, and whatever you fucking do, don't believe a word she says or fall for her tears."
Thorn's mouth hardened. "She's going to cry?"
His throat tightened. He'd witnessed her falling apart. It hadn't been an act.
"Make sure she doesn't." He walked away before he went after Sydney himself.
Chief often ordered him to take care of problems with betrayers. Regardless if they were women or men, he had ways of dealing out punishments.
Yet, he found himself at a loss handling Sydney, and that was a weakness he couldn't afford.
Chapter Twelve
D-con and Thorn held onto Sydney's upper arms and escorted her back to Brikken. She pointed her toes, trying to drag her feet on the ground to slow their attempt to take her into the clubhouse but they kept lifting her up as if she was a marionette in Jett's stupid puppet show.
She gagged. "I’m going to be sick."
The moans came naturally. It was easy to change her frustration to pathetic wails.
Her feet landed on the ground. The men's hands left her body. She bent at the waist and gagged. Emotionally charged to stop them from taking her inside, she almost lost her stomach in overacting her part.
There were two of them and one of her. She couldn't run, because they'd catch her.
"All right, enough." Thorn grabbed her arm and hauled her up. "Let's go."
Her stomach seized for real at the harsh, unmoving tone. He sounded exactly like Jett.
She burst out screaming, stopping Thorn from opening the front door of the clubhouse. It wasn't difficult to find her voice. She would do anything so that Jett allowed her to walk away from Brikken property.
Kylie would be waiting for her soon, wondering where she was at, and then worrying. She'd become sick with fear.
"Stop that." Thorn shook Sydney, pulling her into the building.
She shut down and walked beside Thorn. Determined not to give up, she resorted to waiting for a new time, a new moment, a new opening to leave Jett. If she let herself feel all the emotions she exhibited in the act to get away, she'd break.
Up the stairs in the clubhouse, Thorn stopped outside Jett's bedroom door. She looked away as he studied her. Unable to get over the fact he even glared like his father, she almost missed the thin line of his mouth that reminded her of Jett.
Stoic family. Did they ever laugh?
"A little advice." Thorn waited until she looked at him again. "My brother is an open-minded man unless you fuck him or the club over. If that's your plan and you've already broken his trust, I feel sorry for you because once he's done, there will be almost three hundred brothers waiting to get a piece of you."
She shook. "What do you mean?"
"You're a smart girl. Don't play dumb." Thorn opened the door and motioned her inside.
She leaned forward and peeked into the room. Jett stood at the window with his back toward her. Thorn placed his hand on her shoulder and pushed her in, shutting the door with a loud bang.
Her racing pulse filled the silence in the room, and his dominating size suffocated her. Conscious of his awareness of her returning, she tensed. He'd given her a choice to leave, and she'd made the wrong decision.
He'd killed a man simply because he believed Victor Clark took advantage of her skills conning people. Jett made that choice without knowing her. He saw someone younger and weaker and acted on instinct to protect her.
Would he handle her the same way? Without a thought? On instinct? Out of responsibility to the club?
Her overheated body chilled. She wanted
to reassure him that leaving was not because of him or Brikken. His worries that she had a...a crusade against his club were laughable. What could she do to a group of bikers?
She couldn't understand why he felt threatened.
Mainly, she couldn't understand why he refused to let her go.
Her chest trembled, and she shrugged her duffle bag off her shoulders and set it on the floor. Jett still refused to turn around.
She sat on the edge of the bed and clasped her hands together. All her life there'd been reasons behind the changes that came to her. Foster parents sent her to another home because she'd caused trouble while protecting Kylie. Teachers kicked her out of the classroom because she found it more entertaining to dodge her schoolwork and break the rules. Victor Clark hired her because she'd proven her skills on the streets.
There was nothing she'd done to make Jett bring her back to the clubhouse. Initially, when he'd caught her conning a few Brikken members out of their money, he'd chased her away.
Until she understood why he continually brought her back to Brikken, Kylie remained out of her reach.
"Why?" she whispered. "Why wouldn't you let me leave?"
Jett turned around. She flinched at the power of his gaze directed at her.
"Rollo would tell me it's fate," he whispered back.
She swallowed. "Rollo?"
"My grandfather." He tilted his chin and looked at the ceiling. "He built this clubhouse, gathered the men, sacrificed his life for Brikken. He also had a fucked-up idea that a man should follow his gut, and my gut tells me to keep you."
That was the most messed up reasoning she'd ever heard. In cons, going by your gut worked against her. It took skill and confidence to make sure other people believed in her to make sure she succeeded.
"Though I tend to lean toward Chief's outlook on life," he muttered.
"What's that?"
He tucked his chin to his chest, and his gaze hardened. "Get rid of any threat toward the club."
"I-I'm not threatening the club. I haven't. I swear, I've never even mentioned coming to Brikken, except to Victor. I told you that already. I was conning a few members out of money for someone else. I didn't even come inside the fence but stayed outside on public property." She sprang from the bed. "Can I leave here if I promise to come back this afternoon?"
"No."
"Then, you are worried I'll hurt the club."
His gaze intensified. "I wouldn't allow that to happen."
"Then, why won't you let me leave?"
He slowly shook his head. "Damned if I know why I can't let you go."
His confession filled her with pain. Any other time and situation, she would've enjoyed getting to know him. If he hadn't forced her to stay, she would've been excited about spending time with a dominating, brooding biker because she liked how he took care of her. Despite the situation, she felt safe.
Anyone else would tell her she was crazy to think Jett was a decent guardian, but nobody else had lived her life. Jett was safe compared to Mr. Jones. Jett was nice compared to Mr. Riley. Jett was a provider compared to Mr. Hill.
He took better care of her than most of the men approved by the State of Washington.
"I have a life outside Brikken." Her painful gulp brought tears to her eyes. "I can't stay. Please don't make me."
He stepped toward her and cupped her face, tilting her head. "What do you have in Tacoma that is more important than a roof over your head, three hundred men to protect you, and a safe place to live?"
A sister.
The only person in her life she could call family.
Her experience at telling foster parents the truth never worked out for her. People would believe whatever they wanted to think. She couldn't expect Jett to be any different.
So, she lied.
"I have a friend. She's in an abusive relationship and the only day I can check up on her is on Sunday when her boyfriend has supervised visitation with his kids from a previous relationship at some park across town. I'm trying to help her find the confidence to leave him, and she's extremely paranoid that her boyfriend will find out that I've stayed in contact with her and she's confided her problems to me. I-If he finds out I go see her, he'll harm her. Again. That's why it's important that I go today. I have to know if she's okay."
Jett caressed her cheek with his thumb. The area between her breasts warmed. She pulled at the front of her shirt.
"I only need two hours," she said. "I'll come right back."
"I'll take you."
Her heart raced. He needed to stop touching her.
"You don't get it. Emily would never open her door if she noticed a man with me. She's scared, Jett. She'd never take the risk of someone else showing up when her boyfriend is dangerous."
That much was true. Kylie's foster parents wouldn't let her set foot in the backyard if she brought someone with her.
He brought her forward and lowered his head, kissing her forehead. Hope filled her. If she pulled this off, it'd be the most important con she'd ever delivered.
"I can go?" she asked, grabbing onto his vest.
"No." He let go of her and stepped away.
"What do you mean?" She followed him across the room and grabbed his arm. "I just told you why I have to go. My friend is counting on me."
"Bullshit." He walked over to the door. "You're lying."
"I am not."
He held on to the knob with his back to her. "I won't let you go because you don't trust me. Until you stop trying to con me, I'm not giving you any freedom. For reasons I haven't figured out yet, I want you. In my bed. In my life."
"Th-that's kidnapping. And, sick." Lightheaded hearing him admit he wanted her, she reached out and touched air, needing something, anything, to hang on to for support.
He exhaled loudly. "Call it what you want."
This couldn't happen. She hurried to the door to stop him from leaving and watched him join Keeffe in the hallway. Hanging back, she contemplated what to do. There was no chance of her getting away today to see Kylie.
She'd never missed a Sunday since the first month after she'd ran away. It'd taken her that long to find out where social services had taken her sister, contact Kylie's foster parents, and convince them she was Kylie's older sister who would like to visit every Sunday. Because they'd wanted to keep their happy little family appearance up to their friends and family, they'd agreed to a discreet once a week visit.
It'd been an offer she'd taken full advantage of. Kylie thrived at the Mathew's house. While the foster parents were cold in emotions, they provided Kylie with the best private school and everything she needed. Kylie's living situation could be worse. It had been worse.
Keeffe walked off in the opposite direction. She hurried after Jett and caught him before he headed down the stairs.
"Please." She hated the desperation burning her throat. "I have to go."
"You have the freedom to wander around forty acres, talk to any member of Brikken, and make a home here with me. The only person holding you back from being happy and having freedom is you." He tilted her face when she looked away. "Give me the truth, and I'll take you to Tacoma myself."
She pressed her lips together. Her whole life, she'd protected Kylie.
No matter how much she wanted to be the woman for Jett, to explore the attraction she had for him, to feel the comfort of everything he offered her, she couldn't tell him the truth.
Kylie was only fifteen years old. All Sydney had to do was protect her sister for three more years until she turned eighteen and could leave foster care. She couldn't stop now.
Chapter Thirteen
A hundred feet away from the clubhouse, Sydney carried Stassi in her arms as Jackie walked beside her. Jett planted his boot on the bench of the picnic table and leaned his forearm on his bended knee watching the small group walk through the field. Instead of joining the women on Family Day, Sydney chose to entertain his little sisters away from everyone.
For the last two
weeks, he'd witnessed Sydney fall into a depression. She continued to clean, cook, and sleep with him every night but she refused to open up or answer his questions with more than a yes or no.
Nothing he'd tried bolstered her spirit. Every day that passed without her sass, he felt her slipping away from him.
"I don't trust her with my kids," said Chief.
"I do," said Johanna. "I'm not leaving her alone with them, but I've seen how she treats them over the last month. She's really good with Jackie and answers all her non-stop questions and Stassi is fascinated with her and settles contently when she's held."
"Don't let our kids out of your sight."
"I never do." Johanna kissed Chief. "Don't be so hard on the girl."
Jett stayed out of their conversation. How Chief wanted his kids raised was up to him. Those kids were the only thing that made Sydney smile lately, and Johanna wasn't the only one watching her. He practically stalked Sydney twenty-four/seven to make sure she didn't do something foolish like try to run away again.
A group of Brikken members shouted in amusement over at the line of motorcycles. He glanced over at the barbecue where the women gathered, chatting and laughing. Family Day was planned around the success of shipments of chopped motorcycles to California. A day of celebration for the men and a gathering for the women. The children, depending on age, broke off into small groups—some flirting, while the younger ones chased each other around.
He'd spent his whole life within the club. Since walking out of prison, he'd set himself apart. His future as the president weighed heavily on him. While his father raised him for the responsibility, he'd hit the age where he wondered if he'd be able to settle down like Chief, like Rollo.
He gazed back out at Sydney. She'd sat down in the field with his sisters. He could see her mouth moving and Jackie's rapt attention on her. Sydney had Stassi cradled in her lap. The baby flapped her arms at the sound of Sydney's voice.
Sydney brought contentment to him, despite her reluctance to be with him. He'd never had a moment in his life where he felt like he needed someone. Surrounded by his brothers, his mom, Chief, he also had all of Brikken. Even during his time spent in prison, he had Brikken members within the penitentiary so that if problems came up, they were only a phone call away.