Every Breath You Take (Bayou Devils MC Book 3)

by A. M. Myers

  “You want any help?” I ask as he fumbles with one of the steak knives and he glances up, glaring at me.

  “I got it. You just sit your pretty ass there.”

  My brow arches. “You better watch it unless you want a repeat of our first meeting.”

  “Maybe I do. You’re not as scary as you think you are.”

  I scoff and hop up from my chair. “You’d be singing a different tune if you emptied my purse right now.”

  He studies me for a moment, trying to decide if I’m telling the truth and I almost want him to do it just so I can see his face when he pulls out the Taser, knife, and pepper spray. Not to mention the pistol I stowed in the glove box of Mia’s car.

  “I never know if you’re serious or not about the weapons.”

  Crossing my arms behind my back, I flash him an innocent smile. “Why don’t you take a peek?”

  My stomach growls again and he shakes his head. “Why don’t you get some food and tell me why you feel like you need to carry around multiple ways to defend yourself?”

  Sighing, I take a plate from him and go to the grill where I grab the tongs and put one of the steaks on my plate.

  “What’s in the tin foil?” I ask, eyeing the shiny little pouches on the grill.

  “Potatoes and veggies.”

  I grab one and set it on my plate before walking back over to the table and sitting down as Lincoln passes me. With him behind me at the grill, I take a deep breath, mentally reminding myself that I’ve got this before he walks back over and sits across from me.

  “So, how was your Valentine’s Day?” he asks as I cut into my steak and I picture two nights ago when the girls and I went through five bottles of wine and spent hours bashing the men in our lives – including the one staring at me now.

  “Uh…uneventful. You.”

  He nods, staring at his plate. “Same.”

  Something is off with him tonight but I can’t quite place my finger on it. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “What?” he asks, his head snapping up.

  “You’re being weird. What’s going on?”

  Shaking his head, he finishes chewing before setting the fork on his plate and sighing. “Sorry. It’s just… uh, not a good day.”

  “Why?”

  “Forget it, it’s nothing,” he says, waving his hand through the air like he might be able to physically push whatever is bothering him away.

  “Hey,” I snap and his head jerks up, his gaze meeting mine. A quiet gasp slips past my lips at the pain etched into his face and I stand up, rounding the table and straddling the bench next to him. “You can talk to me, Lincoln.”

  Reaching forward, I lay my hand on his face and he sucks in a stuttered breath.

  “I’m sorry, Tate. I thought if I invited you here, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard but I guess I was wrong.”

  I scowl, searching his face for answers. “What wouldn’t be so hard? Please just talk to me. I’m your friend.”

  I scoot closer to him and he glances up at me.

  “Tomorrow is the nine year anniversary of my little sister’s death.”

  Tears flood my eyes in an instant as I gasp and squeeze his hand. “Oh my god, Lincoln. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s something that’s always in the back of my mind, you know? Something that always haunts me.”

  I try to put myself in his shoes and imagine what it would be like if I lost Theo and the pain is unbearable. Honestly, I don’t know how I would survive.

  “What was her name?” I ask and he quickly wipes away a tear.

  “Nora.”

  Our knees touch as I scoot closer to him and I take his hand in both of mine. “Will you tell me what happened to her?”

  “Just…uh, please don’t think less of me.”

  I shake my head. “Why would I ever think less of you?”

  “Because it’s all my fault.”

  “What happened?” I whisper. I don’t believe that it was actually his fault for a minute but I know hearing me say that wouldn’t help him right now. He sucks in a breath and nods.

  “Right after Nora graduated high school, she met this guy, Ben. I did the usual big brother thing and he seemed like an all right guy so I was cool with them dating. Eight months later, Nora decided to end things and Ben lost it. I didn’t know it at the time but he’d been stalking her for months, begging her to take him back and it didn’t matter that she ignored him because he just kept at it.” His voice breaks and I wish I could wrap him up in a hug but I want him to finish his story first.

  “About two months later, Nora started dating someone new and that’s when Ben really went off the deep end. For the first time, she was scared of him and what he was capable of so she came to me for help. At the time, I worked two jobs to help support my family and I always intended to look into it but I never got the chance because Ben killed her and her new boyfriend.”

  “Lincoln,” I whisper, tears running down my cheeks. His hand trembles in mine and I can’t hold back anymore. I wrap my arms around him. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I understand if you want to leave,” he murmurs and I squeeze him tighter, shaking my head. How could I possibly leave him?

  “I’m not going anywhere and her death was not your fault. I’ll say it as many times as you want me to but I get the feeling it wouldn’t do any good.”

  “I should have been there for her, Tate. Taking care of them after Dad died was my responsibility and I failed her.”

  Imagining myself at fifteen, I don’t know how I would have handled everything I’m dealing with now and the full weight of the pain he’s been carrying around for years crashes down on me. Pulling back, I cup his cheek and turn his face toward mine.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  His brow furrows as his eyes search mine. “What are you sorry for?”

  “All this time, all I’ve been focused on is my own pain. I was so blinded by it that I couldn’t see how much you still carry around every day. I’ve been a shitty friend but my eyes are open now and I see you, Lincoln. I really see you.”

  He sucks in a breath and his gaze drops to my mouth for a second before he leans in and plants his lips on mine. I’m frozen for a moment and then a big, strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls me into his lap. All bets are off. His hand slips into my hair as he flicks his tongue against the seam of my lips and nothing else in my life has ever felt this…right. In this moment, I don’t care that he’s the wrong guy for me and I don’t care about the promise I made to myself all those years ago because I’m lost in him.

  “Lincoln,” I whisper, rocking my hips over the growing bulge in his jeans and he groans, gripping me tighter. At the firm touch of his hand, I sigh and my lips part in invitation as I grab the back of his neck. A large hand presses against the bare skin on my back and my body arches into his, aching with a need unlike any I’ve ever felt before. Pulling back, I look down into his eyes and I know that I’m not going to stop this. Not tonight, despite any consequences I’ll face in the morning.

  Or maybe, just maybe… we could be more.

  “Fuck,” he growls, shutting his eyes as he pushes me away from him. “You should leave.”

  Before I can say anything, he picks me up, deposits me back on the bench, and stomps up to the house. As the screen door slams shut, tears burn my eyes and I hate him for doing to me what I always knew he would.

  No, he doesn’t get to have this power over me.

  He doesn’t deserve my tears.

  My hands tremble and anger racks my body as I stand up, swinging my leg over the bench before marching over to the other table and ripping my bag off it. Pain throbs in my chest and I suck in a stuttered breath as I turn toward the car and practically sprint to it before throwing myself behind the wheel. The fall is coming. I can feel it building inside me and the crash is going to be spectacular. God, I was so stupid. From the start, I knew better than to get involved with Lincoln but with my mother’s death, I lean
ed on him and I didn’t even realize that I’d begun to need him. I always knew better and yet, I still went there.

  The first tear slips down my face and I grit my teeth as I start the car and slam it into reverse, flipping around way faster than I should before flying back down the way I came in, pounding my fist on the steering wheel. So, so stupid. It takes every ounce of self-control I possess to not turn this car around and taze Lincoln just on principle. I was vulnerable with him in a way that I never am with any one else and he rejected me as soon as I was ready to give him everything. It burns more than I care to admit. Not to mention, I’m truly alone now. The only friend I had who understood the emotions that rock through me on a daily basis just walked away from me.

  On second thought… renewed anger surges through me and I slam on the brakes before flipping around on the narrow gravel road. As I ease my foot off the brake, I reach into my purse and grab my Taser, flipping it on so it has time to power up. Fuck this asshole for thinking he can play me after I let him in. I don’t do that shit with anyone and I fucking trusted him. When I get to the house, I put the car in park and jump out with the Taser in my hand. My heart pounds in my ears and my knuckles hurt from balling my hand up as I stomp up onto the porch and pound on the door.

  It flies open and he looks surprised for a moment before he scowls. “I’m sorry, Tate. I can’t do this…”

  I press the end of the Taser to his beefy arm and hold it there as his body seizes and drops to the floor like a goddamn rock, still twitching.

  “Fuck you, motherfucker,” I snarl before spinning on my heel and marching back down the stairs to the car and climbing inside. He’s struggling to get up as I flip the Taser off and put the car in reverse again, flying out of the driveway. Serves him fucking right. Don’t play games with a girl that knows endless ways to cause you pain.

  As I drive closer to the city, my mind drifts back to the kiss and fresh tears well up in my eyes, irritating the hell out of me. I’m not a crier. I don’t do shit like this but here I am, bawling like a baby because a damn guy rejected me. But, then again, I’ve never experienced a kiss like that either. It was damn near poetic and I can’t stop myself from wondering what it means.

  “Don’t fucking go there,” I growl to myself, glancing in the rearview mirror and wincing at my red, puffy eyes.

  I spend the rest of the drive to my house focusing on not thinking of anything and it’s harder than I imagined it would be. For some reason, my brain wants to torture my heart tonight and the look on Lincoln’s face just before he leaned forward and destroyed everything between us keeps popping into my mind.

  Pulling into the driveway, I slam the car in park and grab my purse and bag out of the passenger seat before climbing out and trudging up the front walk. When I reach the front door, I fumble with my keys for a moment before noticing the note taped to the door with my name scrawled on the front. Scowling, I rip it off and unfold it.

  LAUNCELOT

  Yes, look, it’s true that children are punished for the sins of their fathers. That’s why I’m worried about you. I’ve always been straightforward with you, so now I’m telling you what I think. Cheer up, because I think you’re going to hell. There’s only one hope for you, and even that’s a kind of illegitimate hope.

  JESSICA

  What hope is that, may I ask?

  LAUNCELOT

  You can hope your father isn’t your real father. Maybe your mother fooled around, and you aren’t the King’s daughter.

  JESSICA

  That really is an illegitimate hope. Then I’d be punished for the sins of my mother.

  LAUNCELOT

  In that case I’m afraid you’re damned by both your father and your mother. When you avoid one trap, you fall into another. You’re in trouble either way.

  It’s in modern text but I recognize the scene from The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare that my high school drama program put on when I was a junior. The only other change is when it says, “King’s Daughter”. The original line was “Jew’s Daughter”. My scowl deepens as I study the note but there’s nothing that stands out about it, nothing special. The hair on my arms raises and I glance over my shoulder as I slip the key into the lock, eager to escape from the feeling of someone’s eyes on me. As I twist the deadbolt, unlocking the door, a car door slams and my hand is in my purse before I know it, gripping the knife tightly.

  Mrs. Saunders across the street waves to me when I turn and I force a smile to my face, still on edge, and my mind racing with the possibilities of what this note means. And in the back of my mind, I can’t help but think it’s one more thing to add to the growing list of questions my mother left behind in her wake.

  Chapter Ten

  Tatum

  Sighing, I watch the customer walk out of the gas station with his soda before plopping down on the little stool tucked away behind the counter and cross my arms over my chest. I spent the whole weekend analyzing that note, trying to figure out what it really means and its implications for me but I’m as lost as I’ve been since the moment my mother died. And I can’t help but feel like I’m being watched now. I searched the surveillance cameras set up around the house but whoever taped the note to my door was as average as they come and he kept his face covered.

  My gaze flicks to the windows surrounding me and I shudder as my phone rings. Slipping off the stool, I grab it out of my bag and make sure Reed isn’t looking before pressing it to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, T. What are you up to?” Theo asks and I let out a relieved breath. I’ve been so fucking paranoid since that note showed up so it’s nice to talk to him.

  “Not much. Just at work.”

  “Oh, do you need to go?”

  I shake my head, scanning the empty parking lot “Naw, I can talk for a minute. What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to see how you are. My twin sense was tingling.”

  I snort, slipping out from behind the counter and ducking into one of the aisles. “Your twin sense is broken then.”

  “Or you’re lying.”

  “I don’t think that’s it,” I lie, the high pitch of my voice betraying me.

  “Start talking, Tate,” he orders and I sigh. I don’t want to tell him about the note because he will just freak out and there’s nothing he can do from all the way in Charleston.

  “It just this guy.” It’s not a total lie and honestly, Lincoln has been haunting my dreams these past few days.

  “Wait. The guy from Friday night? What the hell did he do to you? Tell me the truth, Tate. I’ll call my chief and get in the damn car right now.”

  “Slow your fucking roll, Theodore,” I say as I roll my eyes. God, he’s so overprotective. “Do you honestly think he could do anything to me that I didn’t want him to do?”

  “Then why are you upset?”

  Sighing, I rub my fingers into my temple. “Because he kissed me.”

  “And…you didn’t want him to…?”

  “No, I wanted him to but after he kissed me, he just said “fuck” and “you should go” before stomping into his house.”

  “I see,” he replies and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “And then what happened?”

  “Then, I marched up to his door and tased his big, stupid ass before leaving.”

  He starts laughing and he’s so damn loud that I have to pull the phone away from my ear.

  “Of course you did. You better be careful or someone’s going to call the police one of these days.”

  “Why?” I cry. “I don’t run around in the streets laughing and tasing innocent civilians. If I tase someone, there’s a damn good reason and they know they deserve it.”

  “I’m just sayin’, sis.”

  “Tate!” Reed calls from the office and I shrink down the aisle, covering my mouth and the phone with my hand.

  “Hey, I gotta go. My boss just yelled for me.”

  “Call me later, okay? I love you.”

  I no
d. “I love you, too.”

  Hanging up, I slip my phone in my pocket and walk to the office, arching a brow as I stand in the doorway.

  “Yeah?”

  He tosses a notebook at me. “I need you to go in the back and do inventory.”

  “On it,” I reply, snagging a pen off his desk. Maybe I should point out that this is his job but I’d prefer to be in the back room today. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that someone is watching me since I started my shift two hours ago.

  Once in the back room, I start going through the shelves and my mind drifts to Lincoln. I hate myself for it but I kind of miss him. Before Friday night, he would send me at least one text a day asking me how I was doing but my phone has been painfully silent since I drove away from his house. I guess I can’t be surprised though. If he wasn’t already thinking about ditching me, tasing him probably sealed the deal.

  Whatever.

  I don’t need him.

  “So, Tate,” Reed says and I gasp, glancing up to find him standing in the door. “I was thinking about what you said to me last week. It was very disrespectful.”

  “And?”

  He takes a step toward me and I wish I had my trusty Taser in my pocket right now. “And I can’t have my employees speaking to me like that.”

  “Maybe you should act like our boss instead of a prick, then.”

  Another step closer and he wags his finger at me, chuckling. “See, there’s that mouth again. Why keep flinging barbs at me when I can think of such better uses for it?”

  My brow arches and anger surges through my veins. “You mean like filing a police report on you for sexual harassment?”

  “Who would believe you? I mean, with your past and all…” He trails off and my mouth pops open. “You see, one of my buddies used your services once and when he came in here to see me, he recognized you. I gotta say, though. You look better than any hooker I’ve ever seen.”