Shake (The Club Girl Diaries Book 8)

by Addison Jane

  I could tell she wanted to argue, possibly try to send me to my room for talking back, but she didn’t. She held her tongue, and I finally felt like we were getting somewhere which gave me the courage to ask the question which had been floating around in the back of my head for days. “Why didn’t he want me?”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and I was shocked seeing this woman I looked up to, who comforted me when I was feeling sad and destroyed, on the verge of melting down. “He doesn’t know,” she whispered.

  My mouth went dry, and a hot flush washed over my body. “You never told him?” I accused in a whisper trying not to focus on the way my stomach was churning.

  “I went to talk to him when I found out about Mom and Dad’s accident. I needed to get home to Kim,” she explained through tears refusing to let go of my hand when I tried to pull it away in shock. I needed answers.

  “And what did he say?” I croaked, trying not to cry or think any less of the woman who raised me, who loved me more than the earth itself.

  “Nothing. Because he wasn’t there.” She looked up at me from beneath her lashes, and I saw it, the pain she was reliving. “But his wife was.”

  Reaching down into the bucket, my hand curled around that smooth surface, fingers running the line of the seams in a grip that felt so easy, so second nature.

  It was also something I hadn’t done in a long time.

  Baseball was my passion.

  I had scholarships. I had colleges lining up desperate to have me. Not only did I have the grades they wanted, but I was the best pitcher in the high school baseball league for the state of Louisiana. There was a chance I could have gone to the major leagues. It was my dream anyway, and my parents were behind me one hundred fucking percent. They put up with the constant practices and my need for perfection.

  There were no parties, no drinking, no girls. None of that interested me. I was focused, and I was driven. So much so I decided to stay late after practice and work on my batting. I was good, but I wasn’t great, and to get to where I wanted to be, I needed to be a better all-rounder. Pitching got me the attention, but if I could bring up my batting, that was what would hold it.

  I should have been home already, but I had amazing parents who were determined to support me, help me follow my dreams, and get to where I wanted to be. They would pick up, take me home, and then it would start over again the next day.

  But that night, they never made it.

  They never should have been on the road in the first place.

  We should have all been home, but I was fucking greedy. I wanted the extra time on the field, the extra practice so I could be better and putting in the extra effort toward my future.

  It was all about me.

  It was all my fault.

  The ball fell from my hand.

  Stepping away, I glared at it as if it were diseased, a dirty piece of my past that I’d rather forget.

  Six years, that’s how long it had been since I picked up a baseball.

  Why now?

  Because it seemed like I was about to face the bullshit of my past whether I liked it or not. So I was choosing to do it on my fucking terms.

  I’d lecture Meyah about not living her life with regrets, encouraging her to talk to her mom and sort things out, yet I wasn’t speaking from experience. There were two things that haunted me every single day, and since I’d decided to talk a big game, it was time I faced up to them and tried to change them, so I didn’t spend the rest of my days letting them weigh me down.

  One was not fighting hard enough for Romeo and Phee—a work already in progress.

  The second was giving up the one thing that I fucking loved. The one thing I knew for a fact made my parents proud, and that they would have wanted me to fight for.

  I was naive back then, but now I was old enough to know they would have never wanted me to throw in everything I’d worked so hard for. And in hindsight, maybe if I’d continued to battle through, maybe if I’d shown the courts how much determination and drive I had to succeed, they would have allowed Romeo and Phee to stay with me.

  Hindsight was indeed a great thing.

  It certainly rubbed those epic mistakes into your wounds.

  I growled deep in my throat, angry with myself at how pathetic I was. It was just a fucking ball, so why in the hell was it so hard for me to just hold it? It should be easy especially given it was the only connection to a past where things were good—where my family was happy, and the people I loved and cared about were there with me.

  Unfortunately, it was also part of the reason that I felt I destroyed my family.

  It was hard when the one thing that never failed to make you feel better about life and more empowered and ready to face the world was the reason you needed to feel that way in the first place.

  Rolling my shoulders, I plucked the stray ball up off the ground, breathing in deeply through my nose, trying to calm my muscles. If I threw this and fucked it up, I could have serious repercussions. I’d seen pitchers break their arms on a bad throw and do all kinds of damage to their ligaments and muscles.

  Wouldn’t that be fucking karma?

  I scuffed my feet against the ground and rolled the ball in my hand.

  It felt natural for it to be there. I thought it would feel strange or awkward—I even wondered if it would feel painful.

  It didn’t.

  This was comfort.

  This was peace—home.

  My heart was in my throat, and every beat made it hard to breathe as I decided to just go for it. Fuck everything else. I wound up the pitch, my muscles all working together to move the ball at the kind of force that could seriously injure someone if they were at the other end. It was like my body remembered every movement. The way I twisted my torso, how high my leg needed to come up, that subtle twist and flick that made my pitch so dangerous—the one that had taken me years of throwing to my dad in the backyard to perfect.

  The instant I released, I knew my aim was on point, and in a split second the ball easily flew into the middle pocket of the nine-pocket catching net I had down at the other end of the short alleyway.

  “Jesus, how are you not in the big leagues?” Leo asked as he came around the side of the building to the small space I guess I’d commandeered so no one would have been able to see me had this been an epic fail. I rolled my shoulders but didn’t answer him, planning on just picking up another ball and throwing and throwing until I had to ice my shoulder because I was in so much pain.

  It was like that part of my brain remembered how damn fucking good it felt and had suddenly switched back on, and I felt electrified. Instantly, I reached for another ball snatching it from the bucket and getting ready to wind up.

  Then my plans of self-destruction were crushed.

  “Your sister is here.”

  I could see her standing at the gate looking so sure of herself as she stared down a handful of dangerous-as-hell looking men—my brothers. Leo trudged along beside me, letting me know in no uncertain terms that he had my back.

  The notion could have been kind of amusing if the situation were different, given that Phee had never grown over five-foot-four inches. The moment she laid eyes on me, though, I was reminded of the fire that burned in her eyes was enough to make any man or woman cautious of what she was capable of.

  “You should have stayed away from him!” my little sister yelled, running at me.

  My brothers weren’t sure what to do looking between each other awkwardly.

  Did they try to stop her?

  Was she dangerous?

  The answer was… I really had no idea.

  For all I knew, she was going to rip a knife out from underneath her denim jacket she had on and drive it straight through my heart.

  I probably wouldn’t blame her.

  Her hands connected with my chest and with the force of her small body, I was pushed back, my feet scuffing the gravel. I grabbed hold of her shoulders and moved her back holding her at arm’
s length while she continued to huff and puff, looking up at me as though she hated me more than her entire being could express.

  I caught some movement, a couple of guys who must have come with her standing beside a blacked out SUV outside the clubhouse gates. They looked like they wanted to protect her, both racing forward a couple of steps before Op and Leo both pulled their concealed weapons and instantly put a stop to their movements.

  I admired their bravery, ready to jump in and protect Phee at a moment’s notice, but they obviously were out of their depth.

  She struggled against my hold, and I finally let her go. Her ashy blonde hair was loose and uncontrolled flying around her face and whipping in the wind like she was controlling it with her anger. The weather was picking up. What had been a beautiful day just an hour ago was now threatening a storm, and I could feel it, not just in the sky but right here between us. She’d come here with a purpose. Phee had something she wanted to say, and just like I’d done with Romeo, I needed to hear her say it.

  It was probably going to hurt, but that was okay.

  There was no healing without first having hurt.

  “You should have stayed away. You should have just left him alone,” she yelled again, this time with less power and more emotion in her voice. Her eyes were red but still fierce and determined. My little sister was not one to let someone get the better of her before she had her say.

  I stepped forward, reaching out to her, but she slapped at my hand. “Phee, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. What is going on? How did you even get here?” I was confused. She was meant to be staying at a home in Cali. How did she even afford to get all the way across the damn country?

  “Romeo!” she snapped. “The prison rang me. He had the shit beaten out of him and was put in the infirmary. Funny that happened the day after you visited him.”

  My heart stopped.

  “Fuck,” I heard Wrench curse softly from behind me. I looked over my shoulder at him, and he was already pulling his cell phone from his pocket. His eyes met mine, and he nodded. “I’ll find out what happened.”

  “It’s your fault,” Phee accused, drawing my attention back to her. “You should have just stayed away from us, Hamlet. We got this far without you. We don’t need you.” Her voice was unsteady, her posture not as strong as it was a few moments ago.

  I clenched my teeth and took a step forward forcing her back. “You don’t need me, but I sure as hell fucking need you. I want my family back. I want you back, and Romeo, and I will do whatever I need to do to make that happen.”

  She shook her head refusing to listen to what I was saying. She backed away. “Stay away from us. Just stay the hell away.” She was backing off toward the gate like she was done and had her say.

  But I wasn’t, no fucking way I was going to have her right here and just let her leave.

  “Why’d you even come, Lia?” I asked, using the nickname that only my mom and dad called her. Everyone called her Phee, but to Mom and Dad, she would always be their little Lia. She sucked in a sharp breath, and her hand reached for her heart. But she kept trying to get away, obviously not expecting for things to be this way. Maybe she thought she’d show up and yell at me, make me cry, break me down, and then leave feeling better. Or maybe she thought I wouldn’t be the same person I was six years ago believing that I left her and Romeo to rot.

  “You’re living in California. Why did you feel the need to come all the way to Alabama to tell me to stay away?” I prodded, matching her step for step as she tried to escape. “I was almost as far away as I could fucking get. Yet you came to me. So go ahead and tell me what you need to tell me. What you want me to hear.”

  I was prepared, I had steeled myself. I could tell she was holding back. She forgot I was her damn brother and knew her inside and out. I was the one who patched up her skinned knees when she fell off her bike. I was the one who taught her how to hide her vegetables in her pockets so she could have dessert. I was the one who walked her to school every damn day since pre-K.

  She stopped moving, and so did I.

  The fight in her was still strong, but it was forced. Her eyes were watering, her bottom lip quivering as she fought against the tears. “I hate you,” she whispered. Tears were finally breaking through the barrier and streaking down her cheeks. “I wish it was you in the car, not them.”

  The words struck me hard like a fucking sledgehammer to the face.

  She fell back, her mouth hanging open as if she’d shocked herself.

  I felt fucking sick, my stomach churning as though I wanted to vomit. It was hard to hear those kinds of words from people whose opinions didn’t matter. But to hear them come from someone who you would give your life for, in a heartbeat, it was like a hand reaching into my chest and crushing my heart in its fist.

  “They would have protected me. Do you know what kind of kids I was forced to live with? Girls who shaved your hair when you were sleeping. Boys who… who…” Phee sobbed her words each like a punch in the gut. “They would have never let me be put in a home. They would have fought for me.”

  “I fought for you,” I roared, my voice echoing through the trees at the edge of the compound. She was startled for a second, and I caught a brief look of fear in her eyes. I needed her to hear me, and if this was how we were going to do this, then I guess this was it. “I appealed the courts for over a year to get custody of you. I used Mom and Dad’s life insurance. I sold the house and used that money. I lived in a shelter for months so I wouldn’t have to pay rent. So that I could use every bit of money I had to fight the court’s decision. Over and fucking over again.”

  Phee stared at me, those bright and sparkling eyes full of emotion as she listened to the bullshit and hell I went through.

  “I’ve got court records,” I barked, taking a step forward, my voice raspy with emotion. “Denial, after denial, after denial. At one point the court banned me from knowing where either of you were because they considered me crazy and a risk to you and Romeo. I fought with everything I had until I couldn’t afford to fight anymore. And when that day came, the day where I knew I’d failed the both of you, I went and sat on the edge of the nearest bridge, and I questioned whether it was even worth me taking another breath.”

  I tried to inhale, but it shook. I tried to fight the lump in my throat, but it wasn’t even worth the energy, the tears already breaking through the barrier I was trying to keep up.

  I’d never admitted that to anyone before, not a single fucking soul, scared of looking weak or having people think that I was pathetic. I wasn’t expecting sympathy, or for people to feel sorry for me, especially my brothers. But if Phee was going to turn around and walk away today, I needed to know she had all the information, and she knew the truth and the hell that I endured.

  Sometimes it felt like people forgot I lost my parents, too. Not only that, but there was suddenly no one there to fight for me either. I lost all four people who I could rely on to have my back, and I was going at it alone.

  It wasn’t fair, and God did it hurt, but I fucking did the best I could.

  Everyone was still, afraid to breathe as my little sister tried to process what I’d told her. The little pigtailed girl who used to look up at me like I was her hero, she was gone—maybe not completely—but in her place was this beautiful woman. She was strong, unafraid, and full of sass that if fired at anyone else, would have brought a smile to my face.

  I just stood there waiting for her to turn and leave or rip me another asshole—at this point, I wasn’t sure. But when a gut wrenching sob left her lips, and her feet skidded on the gravel as she fought to get to me, I broke.

  She launched at me, I caught her but didn’t have enough time to steady my body, and the momentum sent the both of us flying backward with me landing right on my fucking ass. Stones and God knows whatever else stabbing into different and strange parts of my body. Phee landed directly on my stomach forcing the wind from my lungs with a hard “oomph.” />
  My little sister buried her face in my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her, swearing that someone would have to pry her out of them before I’d ever let her go again.

  Six fucking years ago she was taken away.

  Now here she was.

  My family was being pieced back together.

  A throat cleared, but I refused to look up, knowing it wasn’t good. “Sorry to interrupt this moment,” Wrench drawled. “But we need to talk about Romeo.”

  “Can you tell your friends to put their guns away now?” Phee whispered with that crooked smile I adored as the both of us climbed up off the rough ground. “Heath and Bray are two of the richest kids in Cali. I don’t think they’re really sure what they’ve just stepped into.”

  I looked over at the two fashionably dressed teens. They were trying to hold strong, but it was obvious that this environment wasn’t what they were used to. No doubt back home they were the kings of the castle, they probably threw a few punches at a party or two to show just how alpha they were, to keep the competition at bay. But down here, you didn’t have a gun, no one was about to wait for you to get close enough to let you throw a punch.

  We didn’t street fight.

  Around here, it was kill or be killed.

  “Bring them in,” I told her, nodding at Op to let him know they wouldn’t be a threat. Both he and Leo tucked their guns away again but continued to watch the two boys carefully as they made their way toward us, their eyes scanning the compound carefully. The boys followed behind as we hustled inside, the worried look on Wrench’s face like a foot up the ass.

  “Guys, this is my brother, Hamlet,” she introduced with a smile. Her hand still gripping tightly to my arm. “Hamlet, this is Heath and Braydon Carson. Their family owns the home that I live in. Their mom started it for us to give us a place to go to school and learn skills that would help us to get jobs and stuff.”

  Holding my hand out, Heath, the eldest brother, took my hand and shook it hard. It was amicable, and for a pretty rich boy, I was impressed with the strength he held. “Nice to finally meet you,” he noted. “Wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to say that or not.”