Throwing his best glare at her, he kicks the chair out and she stands, heading for her dad at the bar.
“Is it me or is India starting to grow into herself? She’s turning eighteen next week, ain’t she?”
I look at my best friend and wonder if he realises what she just put him through. She isn’t interested in him at all.
“Apparently so,” I mumble, and I don’t know what part of his question I am answering. Is she growing into herself, or is she turning eighteen next week. I haven’t given a shit before, and I don’t know if I do now.
“I might put the graft in, you know. I don’t reckon anyone’s been between those legs with a daddy like Slade.”
He’s worse than an overprotective daddy.
“What makes you think you’ll get by him?”
“Please,” he snorts, “I had Emma Simpson and her dad lives on their porch with his shotgun. If I wanted her, I could have her.”
“Only one problem, brother. She doesn’t want you,” I chuckle.
Nudging Pippa, she stands, and I rise to my feet. Again, I wish had free time for her this evening.
“Come and find me when I get back tonight,” I tell her and avoid Zara still scowling my way.
I walk over to Slade and Sparky sitting at the same table they always sit at and pull out a chair. I steer clear of dad’s chair, I don’t want anyone thinking I’m taking his place, or planning to.
“Why did my daughter land a sucker punch in JJ’s stomach?” Slade demands to know.
“What’s he been saying now?” Sparky asks.
“He didn’t say shit, I think she tripped,” I lie straight to their faces.
Slade raises a single eyebrow, not believing me and I ignore him.
“You’ll ride up front with me when we leave. Your dad won’t be in hospital long, once he knows he can leave, he’ll be coming home, and I want the prick ready for him. As Cas’s son, he’ll expect you to show how you defend your family and this club.”
It’s hard to refrain from rolling my eyes and snorting out loud. They may have known my old man for many years, but he is my dad, and I’ll show people just how wrong they are to go against him.
“Don’t worry about me, Sparks, I won’t let him down.”
“Good, cause I hate having to scrub blood out from under my nails.”
This time I do roll my eyes.
“I’ll meet you outside in ten.”
India
JJ is laughing at something Leo is saying as they sit on their precious bikes waiting to leave. Leo lights one of his cigarettes and blows out a long stream of smoke. Is it too much to ask that he blows the shit in JJ’s face and he gets lung disease from it. Actually, that’s a little harsh, but still, they’re both jerks. More so JJ than Leo, but they can both annoy the crap out of me. Still, I showed him he can’t put his hands on me without my permission. Sparky struts by them both and climbs on his bike. In less than a minute, Leo is tying a bandana around his nose and mouth, leaving only his eyes open, and the sounds of thirty-odd bikes rumble through the club. Some brothers ride out first, all making sure they’re in the right formation and then I hear, “They’ll never look at you the way they look at me, not seriously.”
I watch the last brother ride out through the gates, off to grab the guy who shot uncle Cas, and lift my eyes to see Pippa standing to the side of me.
“Good,” I snap.
“Please, if you stood a chance, you’d be all over them,” she snipes.
Pushing up in front of her, I actually hate how much she is talking to me.
“It’s funny you think I’m a threat to you. One, if they look at me how they look at you, then I’d truly know they don’t respect me like they don’t you, and two, Leo and JJ are the biggest sluts around here, I have every chance with them, you’re lucky that they don’t stand a chance with me. You need to back down now before your jealousy gets you hurt.”
I swear, if steam could burst from her ears, they would be steaming right now. I stand up, bringing myself face to face with her.
“Or, I could have them both and get in your way at every opportunity, just to mess with you.”
“India? What’s going on?”
Fuck.
“Daddy to the rescue once again,” Pippa snorts and makes sure to side step around me, as not to touch me.
“Bitch.”
It isn’t long before dad’s shadow falls over me and he’s holding his hands on his hips.
“What’s going on now? What did she want?”
“Just a friendly chat,” I lie.
“Didn’t look friendly,” he points out.
“Well, it was.”
“And why were you punching JJ? You want me to have a word with him?”
This is why they think I nark on them. He assumes I need him to fight my battles all the time. I can’t sneeze without him knowing about it. I love him, of course I do, he’s my dad but he is stifling.
“I sorted it, dad. He was just being a douche and now he isn’t.”
Frowning, he isn’t happy, but he lets it go and changes the conversation.
“Come on, your mom called, she said you have two letters in the mail. They could be your acceptance letters.”
Hopefully they’re not good news, and I’ll get to stay home and do what I want to do, which isn’t go to college.
I rest my head against the seat as dad drives away from the clubhouse and Pippa’s tinny, annoying voice haunts me.
What is it with guys and girls like her? They show so much skin; the guys can’t see girls like me who have more to offer than dropping to my knees. Or perhaps that’s how you get a boyfriend, give them what they want, and then get what you want when you’ve reeled them in. Gah, it can’t be like that. Boys, they’re as complicated as they make out girls are.
“Are you sure, you’re okay? You’re really quiet,” Dad murmurs as he pulls onto our drive.
“I’m fine, dad. Boys are dickheads, and girls are bitches.”
I don’t bother waiting around for a reply. As soon as the car comes to a stop, I throw open the door and jump down from dad’s truck.
Mom is waiting on the porch, holding the envelopes in her hand, and guilt sets in when I see how excited she is. I want the contents to be the opposite of what she’s hoping for.
“Come on, I can’t wait much longer,” she beams, holding them out for me to take.
I plant a smile on my face and take them from her. They are so eager to know we don’t make it inside before I’m ripping open the first envelope.
The wad of papers inside are thick and I don’t need anymore than the first line on the front page.
I’m in.
I pass it over to mom and open the second envelope and mimic the same motions of the first letter.
Again, I’m in.
This time, I pass it over to dad.
I become the filling in a sandwich when they hug each other around me and she squeals in delight.
Me, I can’t wait to get to my room.
“Indie, darlin’, I’m so fucking proud of you. This is such an achievement.”
“Thanks, dad.”
Of course I’m happy to get into two different colleges, but it doesn’t mean I want to go. Many of my friends from school can’t wait to leave town and move on to the bigger cities, but not me. This is my home and it always will be.
This mini celebration on the porch is for my mom and dad, so I slip out and walk inside. I head up to my room and my stomach sinks when I think I won’t be here in a few months.
“Indie?” mom yells from downstairs.
I open my door and stick my head out.
“Yeah?”
“We’re going out for dinner, get ready.”
“Okay.”
I close the door and pick out an outfit that will be acceptable for celebrating and still appropriate for my mood.
My reflection in the mirror catches my attention more than it has done before. I pull out my hair tie and let my hair fall
around my shoulders and down my back, it’s glossy and healthy. My face is symmetrical and not bad to look at. My teeth are white, clean and straight. I wouldn’t say I’m ugly, shrugging my shoulders, I like how I look.
Stripping out of my top and jeans, I stand in my underwear and really look at myself. I haven’t done this before, I feel like I’m getting to know myself for the first time.
My stomach narrows above my hips and my breasts sit comfortably in my bra. Not too big, but not too small, they are just right for me. Standing with my feet together, I have a slight thigh gap between my toned and slender legs.
My figure is small, like Pippa’s and Zara’s, and many of the others that hang around the club.
Size wise, I’m no different to them. I just like to keep majority of my body covered modestly and they prefer to show theirs off.
It goes to show that looks don’t always override personality. It must be me, why no one comes near me.
Leo
Baxter Jones house appears quiet when we ride onto his street, and the rain begins to fall heavier as we come to a stop. Every drop that hits my face feels like a thousand needles pricking my skin.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” I ask Sparky, as I ride up beside him.
I take a good look around, it isn’t the nicest of neighbour hoods, but it isn’t the worst I’ve been to either.
JJ stops behind us and climbs off his bike. He walks between his dad and me and lights a cigarette.
“What now?”
“This is what happens when you’re trouble free for too long, young blood doesn’t know shit.”
“Hey, old man. I’m only asking questions. You said to ask questions before doing shit myself.”
Rolling my eyes, I ignore them both, and movement from the window catches my eye.
Sparky catches it too and swings his leg over his bike and straightens up.
“Time to catch our prey, boys. Let’s go.”
Sparky and Dex take the lead, with JJ and I keeping up close behind. For a brief moment, I think Dex is going to knock, but he steps back and kicks the door in.
It clatters open and bounces off the wall inside. Sparks gives the nod and one by one, we head inside. The shades are drawn and makes the place look worse than it is, don’t get me wrong, the place is a fucking dump. Beer cans litter most of the surfaces and the furniture looks like it should be thrown out with the trash.
Luckily, I glance down and check the floor before I take another step and move around the sleeping cat curled up on the floor, half hidden under a rag, or blanket, or whatever the fuck it is.
“There’s no one here,” Rick gruffly grunts.
“There is, he has to be hiding,” I tell him.
I know I saw something move in the window, Sparks saw it too.
JJ puts his finger to his mouth and points to a door just off into the kitchen. The backdoor still has the key in its lock so he hasn’t left the house.
Within three seconds, he swings the door open and is about to haul the guy out, but something stops him, and he bursts out into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Sparky wants to know.
“Come and look for yourself, old man.”
Sparky steps closer and his eyebrow fly up when he takes a look for himself.
“You dirty bastard,” he grimaces, and looks to the prospect who came with us, “Get him out.”
The prospect, eager to earn his patch and look good in front of his VP, bolts into the kitchen and then stops dead before the door.
“He’s pissed himself.”
“We know, that’s why you’re getting him out.”
I smother a laugh under a cough and clear my throat. The guy is yanked out of the cupboard and hauled into the middle of the room, he lands on his ass and the prospect steps back away from the piss stain.
He’s younger than he looked on the print out and I almost feel sorry for him. What am I saying, like fuck if I care what happens to him. He brought this on himself when he decided to pull a gun on my dad and shoot him. His hair is shaved close to his head and a tattoo of a spider sits behind his ear. He doesn’t exactly give the impression he is a boy scout, if you’re being judgemental.
Anger rises, and I stay rooted in place as not to do anything stupid before my dad can have his revenge on him.
“Why were you hiding?” I ask him, and his head snaps my way.
“I wasn’t.”
“Sit in the cupboard often, do ya?” JJ snorts.
“Because you know who we are, and why we’re here,” Sparky growls, answering on his behalf.
“I haven’t done anything,” he stammers out, looking at everyone.
“We know what you did, we saw it all on the cameras.”
I leave Sparky to do his thing, he knows better than me how to strike the fear into someone.
I was staying over at JJ’s one night, and Sparky came home drunk. We were only thirteen or fourteen and thought we were men when he gave us a bottle of beer and let us drink it in front of him. He went on to tell us what he did to a guy who had hurt JJ’s mom, Bonnie, prior to her meeting him. He tortured and killed a man for the woman he loved, so she didn’t have to fear the guy coming for her again. He killed men who took my mom. He killed men and the man who took Oak’s life. Under his grin and easy-going nature, he’s not to be messed with.
So, as my dad’s best friend, he can take the lead on this one. It’s not like I won’t get a shot at him back at the club, and throwing punches is what I’m good at.
“You know you’re gonna die, right?”
“I swear, I haven’t done anything.”
“We all know you’re lying, so we’re gonna go for a drive and take you home. Get on your feet.”
The guy squirms on the dirty linoleum and embarrasses himself.
“Get up,” Sparky yells, leaning over and getting in his face.
“We’re gonna do this the easy way or the hard way, either way, you’re coming with us. It’s your choice, and you have five seconds to decide.”
He only needs three seconds before he’s climbing to his feet. Thank fuck he’s riding in the van with the prospect, and I don’t have to breathe in the smell of his grown-ass man piss.
Sparky walks out close behind him, all the way to the van and slams the door shut after one of the prospects climbs in after him.
“We ride back to the club, we don’t stop for anything or anyone,” he orders, and no one disagrees.
The ride is smooth, and it takes no time before we’re riding through the gates to the clubhouse.
The two prospects take hold of dad’s shooter and hustle him down to the basement. There is already a chair waiting in the middle of the open space and Pope sits in his chair, looking happy for once.
“Is this him?” he grunts.
Sparky nods and pulls out a chair and sits his ass down.
“Do you remember what we did to Danny, right here in this very basement?”
“How could I forget, the bastard was crying, I mean, bleeding for days.”
“At least he didn’t piss himself,” Ricky snorts.
I make myself comfortable on one of the many old trunk chests and light a much-needed cigarette.
If that bullet had have done anymore damage, my dad wouldn’t be here today. He wouldn’t be getting ready to discharge himself from the hospital. He wouldn’t get to see shit from now on. All because of this man tied a chair.
“Anyway, enough of traipsing our asses down memory lane. The guy you shot, he’s coming home soon, and he wants to meet you. So, you’ll stay down here until then,” Sparky tells him, “No one will touch him, no one will come down here, unless I say.”
Sparky looks around and the brothers nod and agree to his terms, but I don’t move. I might not be able to kill him, but I can release some of my rage on him. Brother’s begin moving upstairs, and Ricky pushes Pope out and bumps his chair up each step.
I remain seated until it’s only Sparky and I with the
prick tied to the chair.
“You’ve got five minutes,” he grins, stepping through the door, reaching for the handle, “Don’t kill him.”
I wait for the door to close before I stand and grind out my smoke under my boot.
“It was my dad you shot, and nearly killed.”
“I didn’t shoot him,” he murmurs pathetically, sounding like he’s giving up the fight.
“We’ve seen the video, we know it was you.”
I walk around the basement and stop behind him. I brace my hands on his shoulders and squeeze down on him.
I could let go and raise them a few inches higher and wrap them around his neck, squeeze every breath from him. It would be easy. But, my dad wants him, and it was him who was shot, it’s only right he gets his revenge himself.
“My dad has killed his fair share of men over the years, but I’ve never seen it for myself. You’re going to be my first, and I’m looking forward to it.”
Releasing his shoulders, I move around him and rest my hands on my knees, as I search for one tiny piece of truth in his eyes.
Just because I can’t kill him, doesn’t mean I can’t rough him up a little. Clenching my hand in a fist, I swing it so hard into his jaw, his head bobs back and forth a few times, before I’m repeating the action and he’s unconscious.
What a fucking pussy. Knocked out after two hits. He is not going to last long with my dad.
Flexing my fist, I stretch my fingers and shake them out.
“See you real soon, sweetheart,” I mutter, walking out.
Up in the bar, brothers are getting their drink on, comfortable in the knowledge that the guy responsible for my dad’s stint in hospital is under our feet and going nowhere.
A bottle of beer is thrusted in my hand and Pippa, without fail, does as I told her earlier to come and find me.
Before I can lose myself in her, I check on Luca. He’s nowhere in the bar, and as I drag Pippa up to my room, I find him in dad’s room, listening to his music and typing away on his phone.
Leo
“Show time,” JJ grins, flicking his cigarette butt across the gravel.
Mom drives dad in and it takes him a few minutes to get himself out of the car because he won’t accept help.
His Father's Son_Sons of Lost Souls MC Book 1 Page 3