Willow and Parker’s game of pool was “up,” so Quin and I flopped onto one of the sofas to watch. Kinsey went skipping off to where several other kids were playing video games.
“I like you with Alamo,” Quin said, and I smiled.
“I like me with him, too.”
“Now, if I could get him to be less...”
“Alpha?” I provided.
She chuckled. “Bossy, but sure, we’ll go with that.”
“He’s good at it.”
Her eyes landed on Alamo across the room and she sighed. “That he is.”
“How did it go with Kinsey this week?” I asked.
“Good,” she said. “Michael didn’t even try to meddle.”
“That’s great,” I said. “Right?”
She nodded. “Did Alamo tell you what they dug up on my darling husband?”
“He won’t tell me shit.”
She leaned closer to me. “He liked to kill animals and rape classmates.”
“Seriously?”
“Remember Alissa?”
“The girl who was institutionalized Junior year?”
Quin nodded. “Yes. He raped her. His parents paid off hers and they buried it.”
I bit back tears. “Ohmigod, that’s horrible.”
“It’s no wonder she was a mess.”
“Maybe he’s the Gentleman Strangler,” I mused.
“Lord!” she said with a gasp. “I hadn’t even gone there.”
“Gone where?” Alamo asked, sitting next to me and handing me a red cup of wine.
“Michael being the Strangler,” Quin provided.
“Fuck me,” Alamo growled. “We’re not talkin’ about that asshole at a family gatherin’.”
Quin gave me a slight grin, then rolled her eyes. “Since Jasmine and I are grown-ass adults, we can talk about whomever, wherever we want to. You don’t get to censor us.”
“I’m not tryin’ to fuckin’ censor you, Quinlan,” he snapped.
I took his hand. “I have no intention of getting in the middle of your family squabble, but I’d just like to say that I don’t feel censored. However, if we want to get into this, maybe we could go somewhere a little more private.”
“We’re not squabbling,” Quin said. “Right, Valen?”
He sighed. “Right.”
“Mama!” Kinsey called as she toddled toward us. “Hungy.”
“Okay, baby, let’s find you something to eat.”
Quin took Kinsey out to the tables laden with food and I faced Alamo. “What was that all about?”
He rubbed his forehead. “Family dynamics.”
“Meaning, you’re an overbearing big brother just like Jared.”
Alamo frowned. “I’m nothing like your brother.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Babe.”
“Yes, honey?”
“You think I’m like your brother?” he pressed.
“Only in the way that you’re Quin’s big brother, and you seem to war between your need to protect her and irritate the shit out of her.”
He dragged a hand down his face and I could tell he was mulling over my words.
“Wanna go make out somewhere for a minute?” I asked.
This got me some semblance of a smile. “Yeah, actually, that’d be great.”
He pulled me up off the sofa and led me to his room, pulling me against him and wrapping his arms around me. He didn’t kiss me. We didn’t make out... he just held me like I was the calm in the middle of his storm.
“We’re watchin’ Michael.”
“I know,” I said.
“No,” he countered. “We’re watchin’ him. My buddy, Dalton, the one who owns the BMW store?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s ex-FBI. Well, he’s still FBI, but on a consulting basis, so he’s got contacts and they’re watchin’ Michael.”
I met his eyes. “So, you think he might be the Strangler too?”
“It’s possible,” he said. “Every woman they’ve found so far looks an awful lot like Quinlan, and the thought of my sister—”
“Okay, Mo, don’t go there.” I looped my arms around his neck. “She’s safe, Kinsey’s safe. I’m safe. We’re covered.”
He nodded, dropping his forehead to mine. “Love you, Firefly.”
I smiled, kissing him gently. “Love you, too.”
“You wanna fuck or eat?”
I giggled. “Both, but let’s eat. We can fuck at home.”
He nodded, and we headed back downstairs.
“Alamo!”
“Hey, Mouse,” he said, and broke away from me to greet him. I caught Parker’s eye and headed toward her, confident Alamo would find me if he needed me.
Quin joined us a few minutes later, still within eyesight of Kinsey who was “helping” Badger play pool.
“She’s in love with that idiot,” Quin complained.
I grinned. “You are too, don’t lie.”
She shrugged. “Hey, I’m sorry I put you in the middle with me and Valen.”
“Don’t worry about it. He and I talked. He’s worried about you.”
She sighed. “Yeah. I get it. He’s always been worried about me.”
I smiled. “Comes with the territory of being a big brother.”
She shook her head. “It’s more than that, though.”
“You think?”
She studied me. “Ask him about Baz.”
“Who’s Baz?”
“Our brother.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother.”
“We don’t,” she said, and rose to her feet. “Anymore.”
She walked away, and I found Alamo in the crowd. He was watching me, and I tried to paste on a happy smile, but I know he saw through it, because he turned to Quin and scowled.
* * *
Two a.m. rolled around, and I could barely keep my eyes open. Partly because I didn’t sleep much the night before, and partly because I imbibed. A lot.
“Come on, baby, let’s get you to bed,” Alamo said, helping me out of the truck.
“I’m so tired.”
“No shit?”
I giggled. “I like your snark, Valen Slater.”
He grinned. “Like yours too, Jasmine Buckley.”
Unlocking my front door, he guided me inside and locked up again. I checked on Scruffy, then headed to my room and fell into bed. I heard Alamo moving around, then he was stripping off my boots and jeans and wrapping himself around me. “Night, Firefly.”
“Night, honey.”
I snuggled close and let sleep take me. I didn’t wake again until Scruffy jumped on my head and used it as a scratching post. I groaned, reaching for Alamo and finding just sheet. Separating myself from my cat, I headed to the bathroom, then went looking for my man. “Mo?”
“Kitchen,” he called.
I didn’t smell bacon, but I did smell coffee, so I followed the scent and found Alamo pouring me a cup. “Hey, baby. How ya feelin’?”
“Mild headache, but otherwise good.”
He handed me my coffee and then wrapped an arm around me. “Thought you’d be feelin’ like shit this mornin’.”
“I didn’t drink that much. I mean, I did, but I made sure I hydrated.” I smiled up at him. “How are you?”
“I’m good.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
He frowned. “That sounds ominous.”
“Well, I don’t know if it’ll piss you off.”
“You can ask me anything, Jasmine.”
I bit my lip. “Who’s Baz?”
His body locked. “Nobody.”
“Valen.” I set my coffee down and met his eyes. “Who’s Baz?”
His face went blank, but his eyes burned with both pain and anger. “Leave it, Jasmine.”
I shook my head. “Who’s Baz?”
“Sebastian. My brother. He died when I was six.”
I bit back tears. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
“It was a
long time ago.”
He tried to move away from me, but I held tight. “How did he die?”
“Don’t wanna talk about that, Jasmine.”
“I get it, but I’d really like to know.”
He scowled. “I killed him.”
“I highly doubt that,” I said.
He diverted his gaze from mine and stared out the window.
“Mo. How did he die?”
“Drowned,” he rasped. “He was four. I was six, I was supposed to save him. I tried, but I couldn’t.”
I squeezed him tight. “It’s not your fault.”
“I’m done with this subject, Jasmine. You makin’ breakfast, or am I?”
I let him escape for the moment. “I’ll make it. Bacon and eggs?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” He left the kitchen and I got busy with breakfast.
Well, until I heard him yelling at his sister.
“Goddammit Quin, you need to keep your mouth shut. This is bullshit. Yeah? Well, that’s my call to make, not yours.” He swore, then slid his phone in his pocket as he headed for the door. “I’m goin’ for a walk.”
“What about breakfast?”
“I’m not hungry.” He slammed the door behind him, and I sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. I turned off the stove and grabbed my phone. Time for some answers.
“Hey, Jazz,” Quin answered immediately. “Is he super pissed at you?”
“No. He’s not happy, but I don’t think it’s directed at me. I don’t even think it’s directed at you.”
“Damn it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. We’ll deal with it.” I grimaced. “I just can’t believe he’s carried this for so long.”
“What did he tell you?” I filled her in and she groaned. “What he left out was the fact he almost drowned himself. My dad apparently pulled them both out of the neighbor’s pool and had to try and get both of them breathing. The neighbor’s dog had broken through the fence, so Baz had wandered through it and fell in the pool. Valen followed him.”
“Ohmigod, that’s awful. Were you born yet?”
“Barely. I was two months old, I think, but Mom and I were at my grandparents, so we weren’t there when it happened. My parents got divorced less than a year later, and Valen and I lived with my mom until she died.”
“I’m so sorry all of that happened. I can’t imagine.”
“Full confession? Valen has spent the better part of his adult life protecting me. I haven’t always made it easy for him, but I love him with everything I have, and now it’s my turn to return that protection.”
“Starting with sharing all of his secrets.”
She sighed. “He loves you, Jazz, and I don’t want him shutting down the dark side of him because he wants to protect you. Because he will.”
“But he should be the one to make that choice, right?” I challenged.
“Should he?”
“Quin, I love you, you know I do, and I get the whole little sister need to be all up in the big brother’s business, but Alamo should be given the freedom to tell me what he needs to tell me in his own time. I trust him, honey, and you should too.”
I started when a hand landed on my lower back and I frowned up at Alamo who’d just scared the shit out of me. I didn’t even hear him come back in.
He took the phone from my hand and put it to his ear. “Quin, Jasmine has to go now,” he said, then hung up and set the phone on the counter.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I am now.” He boxed me in, against the counter. “I fuckin’ love you, Jasmine. More than you will probably ever understand.”
I stroked his cheek. “Mo.”
“Thank you for having my back. Quin’s a force to be reckoned with, and most people just let her have her way.”
I smiled. “Honey, she wasn’t trying to force anything on me. I truly believe she told me about Sebastian because she cares about you, but I still don’t think it was her place. At least, in relation to you. If she’d wanted to tell me about Sebastian because it impacted her life, leaving you out of it, that would be different.” I sighed. “I’m rambling. Am I making any sense?”
“I’m moppin’ up what you’re spillin’.”
“Okay, good.”
He chuckled. “Fuck me, you’re perfect.”
“I’m glad you think so. Remember this when you want to kill me.” I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all of that, especially at such a young age.”
“Yeah, it sucked.”
“Is that why you don’t like water?”
“How’d you know I don’t like water?”
“I remember Badger giving you shit about it after the stuff with Sparky and Poppy, and then when you came to the pool that day, you wouldn’t come anywhere near the water... even the hot tub.”
“You’re a little too insightful sometimes,” he rasped.
“Maybe so.” I smiled up at him. “My family rents a houseboat for a week every summer... will this be a problem for you?”
“Not big on boats, Jasmine.”
“Okay. We’ll figure something else out.” I kissed him quickly. “You want breakfast now?”
“Yeah, baby, that’d be great.”
The rest of the morning was pretty low-key, and we took our time getting ready to go to my parents’. I was nervous, but Alamo had already proven how well he handled himself, so I knew it would all be okay.
Jasmine
We pulled into my parents’ driveway and I turned to face Alamo. “Ready?”
“Readier than you, I think.”
“God, you have no idea how true that statement is.”
He reached over and stroked my cheek. “It’s all gonna be okay, Firefly.”
I nodded. “Don’t let me hit anyone.”
He laughed. “Okay, baby.”
Jared hadn’t called, texted, or sent a carrier pigeon since his unwelcome visit, and I was okay with that. But I was admittedly, a little nervous about tonight and how he’d act, considering Alamo had threatened to break his hands.
“And don’t let my dad bully you.” He raised an eyebrow and I sighed. “Let me rephrase. When my dad grills you, if it sounds like bullying, don’t hit him...or let me hit him.”
“I won’t.”
He kissed me quickly, then we climbed out of his truck and he wrapped an arm around my waist as we headed to the front door. I took a deep breath and opened it, leading Alamo into the kitchen...and chaos.
“If you’re under the age of twenty-one, out, out, out,” Jules demanded, her hands covered in something oily. The kids filed out of the kitchen, but hovered at the invisible room divider.
“Everything okay?” I asked, setting dessert and wine on the island.
“I dropped the olive oil,” Mom said, handing Kelly (on her hands and knees) a wet towel.
“And I tried to catch it,” Jules said, and made her way to the sink.
The glass bottle had shattered on the tile floor, so there were shards of glass mixed in with the oil.
“It’s slick, honey,” Simon warned. “Careful.”
“Can I help?” I asked, but Alamo wrapped an arm around my waist from behind and pulled me up against him.
“I think they’re good,” he whispered.
“You can help by keeping your distance,” Jules said with a smile. “No point in you getting all oiled up...unless you want to wrestle Kelly later...in your bikini.”
“Juliet,” my mother admonished.
“What?” Jules shrugged. “Olive oil’s spendy, Mama... we could sell tickets.”
“You can always count on Jules to step over the line,” Simon said.
“You love it when I step over the line.”
His face got soft and he smiled, but neither confirmed nor denied. I leaned against Alamo, who kissed the back of my neck, while Dad held a garbage bag that Mom, Kelly, and Jules dumped paper towels and glass into.
“Jazzy!” Layla squeal
ed.
“Laylay, you need to stay in the family room,” Jared said, rushing to grab her. “There’s broken glass in here. It’ll give you owies.”
I took Alamo’s hand. “Come with me.”
I led him down the hall and around the corner to enter the family room from a different doorway. Layla ran for me and I caught her in a hug. “Hey, baby, how’s my Laylay?”
She didn’t answer, just hugged me around the neck while the rest of the kids greeted me. I was ready to introduce them all to Alamo, but Noah took over. I could tell he felt very important to already know the man of the hour and be able to show him off.
“Okay, we’re clear,” Dad announced.
Alamo and I headed back into the kitchen and I pulled him forward. “Mom, Dad, this is Alamo.”
Dad shook his hand, while Mom hugged him (she was a hugger), and then we grabbed drinks and I told Alamo to sit at the island beside my brother and Simon.
“We’re ready,” Mom said, handing us women and Dad dishes to carry to the dining room table.
Alamo insisted on helping, so Mom handed him the meat platter and we all filed into the next room. After taking our seats, Dad said grace, then it was a din of clacking silverware and dinnerware.
“Alamo, what do you do for a living?” Dad asked.
I frowned. He knew very well what Alamo did for a living. My stomach churned. I did not like this.
“I own Reliable Auto down on Victory,” he said.
“I bet you’re good with all kinds of engines... heard you’re quite the motorcycle enthusiast.”
Alamo smiled. “I guess you could say that.”
“As are many of your friends and associates.”
I leaned forward, ready to fight, but Alamo squeezed my knee gently.
“I belong to the Dogs of Fire. Our compound’s out at Mosgrove’s old tobacco plantation.”
“Dogs of Fire...sounds like a lively bunch of fellas. You ever find you and your gang end up in places you shouldn’t be?”
“They’re not a gang,” I ground out.
Dad paused his meat slicing. “You know, I quite enjoyed the music of the Rolling Stones until that dreadful Altamont incident.”
“I highly doubt they’re anything like those Hell’s Angels people,” Mama cut in.
“Rest assured, our club is about motorcycles and helping out our community when we can,” Alamo said.
Stealing the Biker's Heart (Dogs of Fire: Savannah Chapter, #2) Page 16