Jump: Book 7 in the Vengeance MC series

by Natasha Thomas

  –Mia’stext toZara “Stop fidgeting, you’re going to do great,” Scarlet chastises, swatting my hand away from the loose thread I’ve been pulling at on the hem of my skirt.

  It isn’t the interview with, Dan, the bank manager that I’m hoping will approve the small business loan I applied for last week making me nervous. It is having to go out in public for the first time since I fled the hospital and showed up on Scarlet’s doorstep in the middle of the night.

  Behind closed doors, it’s easy for me to hold onto my righteous indignation over being lied to by the two men I trusted most. By ignoring their endless calls and texts, and locking myself away from the world, my anger has manifested into hurt and disbelief. Which in turn, makes it almost impossible to even consider letting Jump and Austin rationalize why they thought it was okay to lie to me for all this time.

  It wasn’t hearing that they were lovers when they were younger that hurt the most; it was that they didn’t trust me enough to tell me. Instead, I had to overhear them arguing about their failed relationship, and on top of that, their failed relationships with me. Never have I felt more used than I did at that moment. The words ‘cheap slut’ echoed in my head as the walls started closing in on me. So knowing I had to get out of there or risk doing something I’d regret later, I went to Scarlet and asked if she would mind if I stayed with her for a while.

  Scarlet didn’t ask questions; she ushered me inside, showed me to her spare bedroom and gave me something to change into that would be more comfortable to sleep in than the set of borrowed scrubs I was wearing. After a nice long, hot shower, Scarlet handed me a double shot of whiskey and told me she’d see me in the morning before padding down the hall to her own bedroom and shutting the door.

  Over the next few days, Scarlet probed gently, asking open-ended questions, but never taking offense when I refused to answer them. I appreciated that more than words can express. Not many people are as astute as Scarlet when it comes to reading others and knowing when to back off, which is part of the reason I went to her to begin with. The other part was because Scarlet is as fiercely protective of her friend’s as any one of the Vengeance MC members. I knew if I put my foot down and told her that I didn’t want to see Jump or Austin, Scarlet would ensure I didn’t have to.

  Now, I’m not saying Zara or Aislinn would have caved quickly, but at the end of the day, they would have given in to Jump and Austin’s demands eventually, regardless of how I felt about it. Their husbands would have seen to that.

  “You know, I think that skirt looks better on you than it ever has on me,” Scarlet grumbles, throwing herself into the chair beside my bed.

  Scarlet has been fussing over my hair and makeup for the last half an hour, and that’s after she spent an hour rummaging through her cavernous walk-in closet searching for what she deemed to be appropriate interview attire.

  “That’s nice of you to say, but don’t lie. You look good in everything you put on,” I reply, running my sweaty palms down my thighs.

  Looking at myself in the full-length mirror, I have to admit I do look good, though. The charcoal pencil skirt I’m wearing hits me just below my knees and hugs my slim curves perfectly. How the same item of clothing fits Scarlet’s much curvier frame is a mystery, but it’s hers so it must. Scarlet paired the skirt with a pale pink, fitted blouse that has a high collar, and is ruffled down the center, covering the row of tiny pearl buttons. On my feet has to be the most expensive pair of heels I’ve ever worn, and I can’t help feeling like a runway model in them.

  At least four and a half inches high, the patent leather snakeskin pumps in the same shade of gray as the skirt bear the trademark Jimmy Choo logo, which at first scared the shit out of me. I knew if I ruined them there was no way I could afford to replace them, but Scarlet, seeing my distress, laughed it off and told me if I was so worried about it just to keep them. I refused, but she was insistent, and since I’m wearing them, you guessed it, Scarlet won that round.

  “Do you have to work tonight?” I ask surreptitiously checking over my appearance one last time. “Yeah,” she huffs. “Unfortunately someone has to pay my credit card bills, and until I find myself a hot, young sugar daddy who knows how to use the huge cock he was blessed with, that someone would be me.”

  “Ah, I hate to break it to you, but isn’t the term ‘sugar daddy’ reserved for old, wrinkly men with small penises but large wallets?” I tease.

  “Tell me about it,” Scarlet laments. “If only I were attracted to Nate, then I’d be set for life. He’s sexy, his bank balance is nothing to scoff at, and he’s packing one hell of a weapon in his pants. And for what it’s worth, which is a lot in my book, he knows how to wield said weapon and give copious orgasms too. He’s like the perfect man. It’s just a shame sleeping with him would make me throw up in my mouth a little, or I’d so tap that.”

  Not able to restrain myself, I burst out laughing. “Does he know this about you, that you’d have sex with him if just the thought of it didn’t make you sick?” “Fuck yes, he does,” Nate’s deep voice booms softly from the doorway to Scarlet’s room.

  “Mmhmm, indeed he does,” Scarlet agrees as Nate walks over, picks her up and deposits her in his lap. To look at them together, it would be reasonably safe to assume that Nate and Scarlet are involved. They are overtly affectionate, banter like an old married couple, and it’s plain as day that they care for each other deeply. But like Scarlet said, there’s nothing going on there and never has been.

  According to Scarlet – who took great pleasure in sharing all the dirty details of Nate’s love life – he is secretly pining for the third member of their dastardly trio, Ebonee. The three of them have been friends forever, and while Nate and Scarlet are the fun-loving, outgoing comedic relief, Ebonee is the glue that holds them together. I’ve only met Ebonee a couple of times, and I have to agree with Scarlet. Their dynamic is strange, but it works for them. Or it did until recently.

  ***** Three weeks ago, Nate was drunk, belligerent, and seconds off starting a fight out sheer boredom at his local bar, Raven’s. Thankfully, the owner and bartender for the night, Raven DeLuca called Ebonee before things got too out of hand. However, it was obvious to Ebonee on their way out that Nate had made a few new enemies due to the size of his mouth and what came out of it.

  See, that’s the other thing; Nate has absolutely no tact or filter when he’s been drinking. Something Ebonee was aware of previously but is now intimately acquainted with.

  After struggling to get him out of the car and into the house, Ebonee made sure Nate was safely tucked into bed before making the twenty-minute drive to Lower Falls only trailer park. She didn’t make it far, though. Nate called out her name, stopping Ebonee in her tracks and proceeded to tell her that while he loved her like a friend, she wasn’t the type of girl a man like him settled down with. Much to Ebonee’s horror, Nate wasn’t satisfied with the level of humiliation he’d achieved, so kept going until Ebonee left in tears.

  A few things bothered me about that night and the morning after, but I haven’t found the right time to bring them up with Scarlet. First of all, why for the love of all things holy, would you stay and subject yourself to that type of abuse? Listening to the man you’re undoubtedly in love with explaining all the ways in which you’re lacking sounds like masochism to me.

  Secondly, even though Nate had no recollection of what he’d said and done when he woke up the next morning, why didn’t Ebonee tell him? Why did she pretend as if it never happened, allowing him to get away with treating her like that without any consequences? From my observations, Ebonee may be soft-spoken and slow to anger, but she is far from meek and mild. The best way to describe her is to say that she is a happy medium between Scarlet and me.

  But what concerns me the most, is how Ebonee has changed after Nate inflicted his brutal and undeserved verbal blows. Stunningly beautiful in every way, there was nothing wrong with Ebonee’s appearance before Nate’s vicious insults. Quite the opposi
te, actually.

  Her long blonde hair is naturally wavy and reaches the base of her spine. Ebonee’s job as a landscape gardener means a large portion of her days are spent outside in the sun, giving her an awesome year-round tan. And because her job is physically taxing, she is toned, yet curvy in all the right places. So in other words, Ebonee is practically a goddess which is why Nate’s insults make no sense whatsoever.

  ***** “Have you heard from Eb today?” Scarlet asks the room at large. “I’ve sent her a million texts, and she hasn’t replied to any of them?”

  “Maybe she’s busy,” Nate hedges, keeping his eyes cast toward the floor.

  “Eb is never too busy to answer me when I ask her what color vibrator she wants me to order her online.” Choking a little, Nate’s head snaps up, and the shocked expression on his face would be funny if it weren’t somewhat alarming. He’s bright red, and his eyes are as wide as saucers. If you ask me, Nate’s breathing is labored too, leading me to believe that he’s not as unaffected by Ebonee as he would like people to think.

  “Fucking hell. I don’t need to know what Cricket does alone in her bedroom, Scar,” he complains. “Who said she’d be alone. I happen to have it on good authority that adding a second dick to the mix can enhance playtime for all involved,” Scarlet goads, making me blush beet red.

  Trying to appear un-phased, Nate queries,

  “Is Cricket seeing someone? Last I heard, she was going to focus on the business for a while and have a break from dating.”

  “Meh,” Scarlet shrugs. “She was, but then she changed her mind. I don’t know if it was a guy or not, but all of a sudden she’s started going to Knights to work out more often and eating healthier. Then, a few days ago, she messaged me and said she couldn’t make it to lunch because she had a doctor’s appointment. When I asked her about it later, Eb said she was thinking about getting her boobs done.”

  Nate’s face pales at Scarlet’s words and he all but throws her off his lap as he yells,

  “Why the fuck would she want to go and do something stupid like that for? Her tits are fucking perfect exactly as they are.”

  And it looks like the cat’s out of the bag. Deny it as much as he wants, Nate has just made a massive Freudian slip.

  “Ah-ha, I knew it,” Scarlet jumps up, rubbing her hands together with glee. “I freaking knew you liked her.” “Shut it, Scar, and answer the damn question,” Nate demands angrily, not necessarily at Scarlet but the situation in general.

  “If you want answers then go to the source. I’m not telling you shit. But now I think about it, the timing makes so much more sense,” she muses thoughtfully.

  Breaking into their sibling banter, I remind them that I have somewhere important to be.

  “You guys know I love listening to you fight like twelve-year old’s, but I don’t think Dan is going to approve my loan if I can’t even make it to a meeting on time.”

  “Oh, shit. Sorry, chicklet. Nate, you drive, and I’ll give her a pep talk on the way. Ready…break,” Scarlet shouts as if we’ve just broken off from a huddle.

  “You get used to it, you know,” Nate chuckles.

  “What? Scarlet?” “Yeah, she grows on you after a while. A bit like a fungus. First, you try everything you can to get rid of it, and then, give or take ten years, you learn to live with its annoying side effects.”

  “I don’t think it will take that long, but thanks for the heads up,” I smile. “Hey,” Nate stops me by grabbing my hand. “For what it’s worth, Austin and Jump are great guys. You could do a hell of a lot worse than ending up with one or both of them.”

  With my mouth gaping open like a sideshow clown, I stutter,

  “What…How?”

  “Thin walls and good hearing, babe,” he states, tapping the wall beside his head. “Look, I get it. That shit doesn’t seem normal to you, me either if you want the God’s honest truth. But just because something isn’t normal doesn’t make it wrong. If they love you, and you know they do, and you love them, it’s no one else’s fucking business what the three of you do.”

  “But I…” “Seriously, stop sweating the small shit, Mia. Walk into Dirty Dan’s office and knock his socks off with your business plan, get your loan, and start your dance studio. You’re a fucking amazing teacher, and those little girls deserve to have someone like you to look up to. And when you’re ready, let Jump and Austin explain why they did what they did. If you forgive them and shit works out, great. If it doesn’t, then at least, you know you tried,” Nate finishes with a solemn shake of his head.

  And just when I thought Nate was nothing more than a shallow, womanizing, heartbreaker, he has to go and prove me wrong.

  As a thank you for saying exactly what I needed to hear, I throw my arms around his neck and place a quick kiss on his cheek, smiling broadly at him.

  “She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s lucky to have you. You’re a good man too, Nate, you just have to let everyone else see this side of you more often.”

  ***** Dan’s office is small and pokey. His desk is piled high with unfilled paperwork, haphazardly stacked and threatening to topple over at a moments’ notice. The air is stale and smells like old socks and sweat, and the man sitting across from me isn’t much better.

  Dan Murphy has been the manager of First National Bank and Trust for going on twenty-five years, and it shows. His beer belly hangs so far over the waistband of his poorly tailored slacks and the shirt straining at his middle looks perilously close to splitting at the seams.

  All of those years spent behind a desk have taken their toll on, Dan for the worse.

  His skin is pasty white and deep frown lines are carved around his eyes, mouth and into his forehead. The lack of exercise and fresh air has his five-foot-eleven frame struggling to accommodate the extra fifty or sixty pounds of weight he’s carrying. I’m not surprised Dan’s wife left him; he resembles a homeless man with a wandering eye, wearing a tragically ill-fitted suit.

  “Miss Reynolds, was it?” Dan peers up at me through his wire-framed glasses.

  “Yes, Sir,” I smile politely. “At this juncture, I’m really not sure what we can do to help you. You have no collateral, no savings, and your current employment is far from steady. In fact, if what I’m reading is correct, you haven’t received a paycheck from your current employer yet,” he says looking puzzled.

  I know it sounds strange, that I would work for Louisa at her dance studio for months without pay, but I love what I do, and she couldn’t afford to pay me, so I told her not to worry about it. Her promises to fix me up when she was in the black again fell on deaf ears after I got my first glimpse of the little girls I’d be teaching.

  At four and five, the youngest of my students are simply adorable in their pink leotards, tu-tu’s and ballet slippers.

  Sure, they trip over their feet, talk too much, and we have more bathroom breaks than I do actual teaching, but I love it all the same. When they learn something new, their eyes light up, sparkling with excitement. Their squeals of delight when they see me walk into the room is enough to melt my heart.

  That’s why I’m here. That’s the only reason I’m still listening to Dan drone on about interest rates and repayments, and insurance and risk assessments. I desperately want to give those little girls a place they can go to express themselves. Whether they’re sad, happy, confused, or elated, I want them to be able to use the barre, the mats, the music, and their bodies to create something beautiful.

  “So, in short, I just don’t think you are a good investment, Miss Reynolds,” Dan states with no regard for the fact that with one sentence, he’s crushing my dreams.

  The door swings open, violently slamming into the wall, startling Dan and me. The stark terror on his face as he glances over my shoulder is only upstaged by my shock as Austin and Jump stride into the tiny room, wearing matching furious expressions.

  “Get out,” Austin barks. I go to stand, and his face softens a little, but the menacing aura he is p
rojecting doesn’t dull even for a moment.

  “Not you, baby. Him,” Austin says, pointing to Dan who is seconds away from peeing his pants. When he doesn’t move quickly enough, Jump intervenes.

  “You heard the man, now get the fuck out.”

  Dan stumbles to his feet and then rushes out of the room far faster than a man of his size should be able to, leaving me alone with the two men I’ve effectively avoided for the past week.

  My gaze travels the length of their bodies, appreciating the hard muscles underneath their shirts, and the way their eyes seem focused solely on me as if I’m their prey and they are starving hunters, staring at their next meal. From their square jaws, broad shoulders, down to their trim waists and thick thighs everything about these two men exudes raw power and sexuality.

  Jump’s beard is darker and longer than Austin’s closely cropped blonde whiskers, but the differences in them don’t stop there. They are like night and day. Dark and light. My avenging devil and protective angel. Jump’s has far more tattoos than Austin, both of his arms are covered in ink, where Austin only has the one on his back. They both have an eyebrow piercing, but Austin’s is a hoop while Jump’s is a long bar with spikes on each end. Jump is the only one with a lip ring, which I can vividly remember shivering when it touched me as the cold metal slip across my bare flesh.

  “Mia,” Jump’s gravelly voice rasps. “Baby, are you okay? You look kind of out of it.” The molten tone of his voice elicits memories I thought I had long since buried. Memories of Jump sliding his long, hard, thick cock inside of me as I whimpered, trying to accommodate his size. My body shudders involuntarily when I recall the pain of him stretching me; first with one finger, then two, and eventually four before thrusting his huge erection into my bare pussy.

  “I’m fine,” I eventually find the courage to say through the arousal coursing through my veins. “I won’t ask what you two are doing here, but I will ask you to leave. This meeting is important to me, so what you have to tell me will have to wait until later.”