Meyah (The Club Girl Diaries Book 9)

by Addison Jane

  Did Brew scare me? No, not really.

  Because I knew he’d only act if he felt like the club was under threat, and I wasn’t a threat to the club, not like he originally thought.

  Brew climbed off the barstool beside me, nodding his head. “See you ‘round, princess.”

  As Brew moved away, Huntsman moved in, his eyes cautious, maybe even a little nervous. “You have a nice chat?” he asked, not snappy or rude, but definitely tense.

  “Scared he told me something you didn’t want me to know?” I taunted, enjoying the way his lip twitched uncomfortably before he gained his composure. I was starting to see more and more of Huntsman not in control. Maybe it was because we were on his home turf, a place where he didn’t feel like his walls needed to be as tall. Or maybe it was because having a daughter had forced him a little out of his element.

  “That’s not something I need to worry about given that none of my men would tell you anything I didn’t want you to know.”

  I smirked. “So there is something?”

  He didn’t have time to answer—despite the fact that I saw the way he wanted to argue—because a young guy, covered in tats and wearing nothing but a towel came around the corner, dragging my friend by her arm.

  “Seriously, what the fuck is going on around here? We just let midgets roam the clubhouse walking in on people showering?”

  Dakota was cringing, the pain in her face obvious from the tight grip he had on her.

  I launched forward, taking several large steps toward them. “Let her go. You’re hurting her,” I demanded, grabbing his wet arm and trying to pull it away.

  “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but club bitches aren’t allowed to just walk into our fucking bedrooms unannounced,” he barked, finally releasing Dakota. Who for the first time in the past few months we’d been hanging out didn’t have some witty remark, and instead, tears filled her eyes.

  “Ripley, calm the fuck down,” Huntsman ordered, taking a step forward, but the young guy took very little notice. His mouth might have stopped running, but he was looking at Dakota and I like we were pieces of trash.

  Fire flared inside me as I watched my ever bright friend cave in on herself, her body curling into mine. “Luckily then neither of us are your fucking club bitches,” I sneered, every word laced with venom. “So we will go wherever the fuck we want.”

  “Enough!” Huntsman’s voice echoed off the walls deafeningly, the boom that bounced back hitting my body with force—just the sound of his voice enough to scare anyone straight.

  Ripley gritted his teeth before turning around and stomping back the way he came, muttering to himself words I thankfully couldn’t make out, because God help him if he said one more thing against Dakota.

  This girl went out of her way to befriend me and promised to have my back, even when she didn’t know me. And she’d always followed through on that, supporting me whenever I needed someone. I would fight tooth and nail to do the same for her.

  “He’s a jerk,” I declared as I pointed Dakota toward the bar and started pulling out ingredients for margaritas.

  “Yeah, but you two are gonna have to find some fucking way to get along,” he muttered, scratching at his beard. I was about to argue until he added. “You’re the only sister he’s got.”

  Sister?

  Damn.

  Romeo and I climbed out of the SUV at the curb in a nice fucking neighborhood. We rounded to the backseat where we both pulled backpacks out. Backpacks that had bottles of gasoline in them. The plan was to douse anything that could point to a connection between the sheriff and Romeo. Anything the sheriff might have kept as collateral and could be used against him.

  Basically, destroy anything that could hurt him—or did hurt him.

  I guess you could call it pyro-therapy.

  The house was relatively new, on one of those streets where all the houses looked the same—or at least, pretty damn alike. They all had this tropical feel and were mostly different shades of terracotta or orange.

  The neighborhood we were in had a little bit of grass out the front of each house, which seemed like a luxury, given a lot of the places we passed by had stones and maybe a couple of bushes or trees. This two-story house was homely, it was tidy, and it had a little character.

  “You’d never guess what kind of hell was raised inside, right?” Romeo commented dryly as if reading my mind, the both of us just standing there staring up at the building.

  Even not seeing the inside, and just knowing what John Visser was like, gave me this gross feeling in my stomach. Like I was about to walk in and find God knows fucking what. A body? Fucking maybe. This man was unpredictable, he was unstable, and a fucking sociopath. There was nothing we might find inside this house that could stun me.

  I was prepared for anything.

  And yet, I still hated the idea of going in there.

  Hated the fact that my brother had to spend part of his life inside these walls with that fucking psycho.

  “You ready?” I finally asked after taking a few moments to search for my balls.

  I wanted to get this over with. Get Romeo the answers he needed and then get the hell out of this place and go down to surprise Meyah. Things were a little tense since she left. But the only difference now was we both knew what we had was forever, and that it didn’t matter where the hell in the world we were, we would make it work. We just needed to figure out how we were going to do that without me feeling like I was letting the club down, or letting my brother and sister down, and without her feeling like she had to give up college and her friends and the place she’d really found herself.

  We were going to find a way.

  Somehow.

  But in the meantime, I was going to head down there for a week or so after Romeo and I had finished here.

  Looking over at my brother, I tried to ignore the way his hand shook. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was scared or angry maybe? Or maybe just because he was ready for this part of his life to be over so he could get back to where he wanted to be—making his own choices, building his own empire.

  Romeo was smart. He knew what he was doing here. This was his turf. But first, this place needed to come down.

  “Come on,” I finally insisted, walking up the path to the front door. “You have a key?”

  I heard him take a deep breath before his heavy steps came up after me, moving me to the side as he pulled the house key from his pocket and put it in the lock. As the door swung open, I was cautious, following my brother as he walked inside like he’d been here just yesterday while tossing the key onto the side table and continuing on through the entrance.

  I looked around. There were photos on the wall. Some of Eliza with those same freckles, that same red hair. Some of an older woman—the red hair again, instantly making me assume it was Eliza’s mom.

  “Wow, she’s pretty,” I commented, stopping at one in particular which showcased all three of them.

  “Beth was apparently the complete opposite to John. Where he was stern and strict, Beth was sweet and understanding,” Romeo mused as he looked around, maybe trying to see if there was anything out of place or different.

  “They say opposites attract.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Come on, we’ll head upstairs, that’s where anything important was kept. I just want to get the hell out of here.”

  I nodded, following as he took one step at a time, slowing the closer he got to the top. The lower level had been immaculately kept. It was a wide open plan, there were decorations, accents, pictures placed on the walls and mantel. And while you could tell it hadn’t been lived in for a little while—dust settled on surfaces and the stale, musty smell—it felt strangely homey and made for entertaining.

  Which is why when I reached the top of the stairs, I almost lost my shit.

  I sat down on the top stair and just… fuck.

  Romeo walked down the hall like there was nothing out of the ordinary. Like there wasn’
t fucking jail cell doors on the bedrooms, and as if there wasn’t some kind of god-awful stench which had me regretting saying I wouldn’t be surprised to find a dead body.

  Romeo stopped at the end of the hallway, looking back at me. “Don’t look into the bedroom to your left,” he ordered before he disappeared around the corner, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to move at all. It was like being back in prison.

  “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” I yelled, waiting a few seconds before he appeared again, leaning against the wall and looking down at me. “You are fucking joking. You lived like this? Locked in like a fucking prisoner?”

  He pursed his lips together tightly, his eyes not moving away from mine even as I pointed at the metal bars which were attached to the outside of every single room. Even the damn bathroom which was at the end of the hall.

  “It is what it is,” he responded, the emotion lost from his tone.

  I knew this house was sucking the life from him. The only reason he’d stepped back inside was because he was so desperate to find Eliza and destroy anything which might stop it from happening or that might come back to haunt him later on.

  “Don’t shut down on me, Rome.” His brow pulled together between his eyes. “Don’t let this bullshit win. He broke you once. He’s fucking dead. Don’t let this change the man you’ve become.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “The man I’ve become is because of this, Hamlet.” His fists clenched at his sides. “He wanted a kid with issues like mine. The first six months I got drunk, I stayed out all night, I did drugs. Then came the doors. First, it was at night. It was his way of disciplining us… mostly me, ‘cause Liza was a fucking saint…” he paused his eyes glinting with hate, “…. making sure I didn’t taint his perfect name.”

  A shudder ran through me, I knew more was coming.

  “The more trouble I got into, the worse the kids became… the ones I was spending time with, fucking rebelling, the more he realized, and he started to use me. First, he would just bargain with me, give me part of the money if I sold something. And then the bullshit really started.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it back, away from my face. Romeo hadn’t talked much about the punishments he received, or how Visser managed to keep someone like him in line. Romeo was twice his size. Romeo was the one with respect on the streets. But sometimes, it was all in the manipulation, it was all about how you controlled them because the mind can be a far stronger tool than the body.

  “First, he started getting rid of anyone who I got close to. I’d make a friend, that friend would be found floating in the river. One after another, after another. Then I started pushing people away and got used to the isolation, so he started other shit.” His lip curled in disgust, his breathing becoming heavier. “He’d bring men in and lock them in with Liza while I was locked in my room. I couldn’t get to her…” his eyelids drooped and his forehead furrowed, “… all I could hear was her screaming.”

  He shook his head like he was trying to get rid of the memory like he could hear her again.

  I felt his pain, I saw his face turn from anger to just fucking anguish. It was all a mental game to Visser. To isolate him. Then hurt the one person he trusts. Over and fucking over again.

  “I thought she got out. I told her not to contact me at all, but that was a mistake. All this fucking time,” he spat, the anger returning, morphing into a rage as he turned and drove his hand through the plasterboard. “I gotta know if she’s still alive, man.”

  I got my ass up off the step and forced back the vile smell that filled the air. There was something, or someone, dead up here, but it didn’t matter. We just needed to get rid of this fucking house and all the memories that come with it.

  “Come on.” I walked down the hallway to where he was standing, taking his advice and not looking into that bedroom. “Let’s light this shit up.”

  “Why do you look so nervous?”

  I licked my dry lips and took a sip of the strong ass margarita Dakota had made me. “Honestly? I guess I’m waiting for your wife to jump out at me. I’ve been petrified to ask where she is since we got here.”

  Texas snorted and got to his feet, dipping his head before he left. “I’ll leave you to field this.”

  The past two days I’d spent inside the clubhouse, meeting members, playing cards, eating far too much food, and enjoying the way this place made me feel.

  Huntsman had come and gone like the wind, chattering on about still having to work while I was here, but Tex and Diddit had been around to give us a tour, take us into the city and have a look around like a couple of tourists.

  One time, Ripley had even come with us, but he barely spoke two words—the tension between him and Dakota like a fucking storm swirling.

  He was kind of an asshole. But I found myself already getting used to it.

  Huntsman shook his head and took a sip of his beer. “My wife died when the boys were six and eight.”

  My heart skipped, and my mouth dropped open. “I’m… I didn’t know. I’m really sorry.”

  He snorted and leaned back in his chair, the most relaxed I’d seen him yet. “There’s a lot you don’t know, girl. Just not really sure how much you want to hear.” A warm wave rolled over me, and a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. Huntsman was confused by my instant change and raised his eyebrow. “What you grinning about now?”

  I used my straw to stir my drink. “Nothing. It’s just, everyone at home calls me that, too.”

  “Calls you what?”

  “Girl. My uncle has done it since I was little. It was always… hey, girl… how’s it going, girl. It kind of became a thing. Reminds me of home,” I babbled on, trying to talk to him about my home life without having to discuss the fact that there were also around twenty other uncles who called me the same thing and a few old ladies too. I was scared he would shut down, just when I was beginning to get some kind of emotions and shit from him that weren’t angry, annoyed, or just… eh. That kind of thing needed to be done at the right time when he trusted me more.

  “Mmm. Well, if we’re sharing…” he started with a sigh, letting me know whatever he had to tell wasn’t something he enjoyed speaking about. “I guess you deserve to hear since it was one of the reasons why Carly kept you away.”

  I leaned in, eager to hear anything I could about my mom. What she was like. Why they were drawn to each other, and ultimately, why he wasn’t faithful. I wasn’t stupid, I knew there were plenty of men out there who lied and cheated, and I think within the biker community, a lot of the time it’s kind of expected of them given they were looked at as rebels, people who don’t conform, and sometimes just assholes.

  The Brothers by Blood I always see as the exception, not the rule. These men found their life partners, and they fought hard for them, were loyal to them, and never even looked at another woman. They sure as hell never cheated.

  “My father was the president of the club years ago. His dad was the vice president before him. For The Exiled, bloodline mattered. They wanted to have strong ties, weave each member’s family through the club, so it was strong like a rope. My father married the president’s daughter, that’s how he came to run the club. So when it was my turn, I didn’t have a fucking choice, my life partner was chosen for me… a daughter of a club member.”

  I cringed. It was like a fucking arranged marriage, and I could tell by the way his face was pinched into a frown that it wasn’t something he would have chosen for himself.

  “So everyone had to marry inside the club?” I asked, screwing up my nose like the words left a bad taste.

  He shook his head. “Not everyone. Only the men pegged to be president or vice. They were expected to marry and have children with another member’s child. I guess in their eyes it showed loyalty and strength. To me, it was just fucking stupid.”

  I giggled softly, hiding my mouth behind my drink as I slowly watched this man give a little rather than hold back.

  “So I m
arried Josie when we were young. We had two boys. That was fucking enough for me,” he went on. “Our marriage was hell. We only made it work because of the boys and the club.”

  “What made it hell?”

  “He’s trying to say nicely that Mom was a bitch.” Ripley took a seat at the table with us, relaxing back into the chair. I’d still yet to see a smile from him. Maybe that was something he just didn’t do? I really wasn’t sure.

  “Don’t talk about her like that,” Huntsman defended, reaching over to slap his son around the head.

  The thwack was loud, and Ripley instantly turned to glare at his father while he rubbed the sting away. “Why? It’s fucking true. You tell me one fucking maternal thing she ever did for us?” I saw the challenge between them. I wasn’t sure if this was something they talked about often, or whether my presence had brought up a sore point.

  “Did you die? No. She managed to keep your dumbass alive, didn’t she,” Huntsman threw back before taking a sip of his beer, only to realize it was empty. “Tex! Bring me a fucking beer.”

  “She also stuck me in a box and put me out on the sidewalk when I was three and threatened to post me to China,” Ripley scoffed, stealing the bottle of beer from Texas’ hand before Huntsman could get it, forcing Texas to go back to the bar for another.

  It was strange, but I felt at home here. The way they argued, the way they talked, the casual nature where you knew that even if one of them raised his voice, that in five minutes they’d be over it, just like at the Brothers by Blood.

  When Huntsman finally got his beer, he looked over at me and sighed. “She never wanted to be a mom but felt like her parents forced her into it. Forced her into marrying me. Forced her into being a parent when all she wanted to do was travel the world. I tried to do what I could, bought her plane tickets for holidays away, told her to take the time she needed. But she’d come back the next day, her dad having ripped them to shreds, telling her old ladies didn’t leave their men. So she turned sour. She turned into this person who hated the world, who hated life, and who didn’t care who she hurt or dragged down because if she couldn’t be happy, no one could.”