Seasons of Change (Bleeding Angels MC Book 1)

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Seasons of Change (Bleeding Angels MC Book 1) Page 18

by Stephens, Olivia


  “That’s a good girl,” Ryan says to me, his voice low, and I try to keep my expression blank while I can feel my skin crawling. He looks through the bag, delving into it, and after a short while he looks over towards his father and nods once.

  “Alright, looks like you have a deal, little girl,” Scar says, and I can feel all the tension I had been holding inside of me suddenly float away as his words reach me. I can’t believe that we’ve won; that he’s letting Jake go. “We’ll take the money,” Scar continues. “Congratulations. You’ve bought your friend another month,” he says looking between Jake and me like the cat who got the cream.

  “What? No!” I shout. I’ve just been tricked.

  “No?” Scar asks. “You saying you want to keep the money and for us to take Jake?”

  “No,” I say miserably, realizing that I’ve been backed into a corner and that I’m clearly not as smart as I thought.

  “You give us enough to keep us happy for a month; you get another month with lover boy over there. Sounds fair to me,” Scar says, spreading his hands out in front of him like he can’t do any better than that.

  Ryan is still only a few paces away from me and he closes the distance fast, catching me off guard, his face so close to mine I can smell the rancidness of his breath as he talks. “Be seeing you, Aimee,” he says before he plants a swift kiss on my lips and I’m too surprised to pull back in time. I jerk back and scrub the back of my hand over my lips and spit onto the floor, and there’s a chuckle from some of the boys on their bikes closest to me. Ryan takes a step forward and looks at me with violent intent.

  “Stand down, Ryan.” Scar calls out, stopping his son in his tracks, and I use the opportunity to turn around and run back to Jake. He catches me in his firm hold, crushing me to him as if he’s afraid that I might fly away. “Pleasure doing business with you, Aimee.” Scar inclines his head in a poor imitation of a bow. “See you soon Jake,” he adds, his voice full of promise and he cranks the engine of his bike, wheeling around and speeding off onto the road.

  The rest of the crew follows suit, and Ryan is the last person on his bike. He looks over at Jake and, for a split second, I wonder if he’s going to disobey his father. But he thinks better of it and guns his engine, speeding away from us without looking back.

  I’m in shock as I come to terms with the events that have just played out and I turn around, checking that my mom is doing alright. She’s on the patch of lawn where I’d left her, knees hugged tight to her chest, looking blankly out into the space where the Bleeding Angels have driven off, leaving a trail of dust behind.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” Jake’s voice is harsh, but I can tell he’s still reeling from the emotions of what’s just happened in the same way that I am.

  I turn around to look at him, holding onto his shoulders and looking up into his handsome face—at the man that I am hopelessly in love with. “I couldn’t have done anything else,” I tell him. “I can’t lose you.” I lay my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat in time with mine. “I won’t lose you,” I tell him, and I feel his hold around me tighten, pulling me closer to him so that we create one shadow in the early light of dawn.

  “You won’t.” He plants a soft kiss on my hair. “I’m not going anywhere,” he assures me, but we both know that’s something that he can’t promise.

  We stand like that, Jake and I holding onto each other as tightly as we can, my mother holding onto herself like she’s worried she may break apart at any moment. The silence is only broken by the sound of birds waking up early and the wind in the trees, and all of a sudden there are sirens heading towards us, coming to put out the fire, coming far too late.

  EPILOGUE

  The next day, as I pick through the wreckage of the place that was my home, I realize that what I’m doing is pointless. I’m not going to find anything that we can ever use again. I’m not going to find anything of my dad’s that still has his smell on it, to help me get through the days when things just get too hard.

  I’m not going to find the memory box that I’ve been keeping since I was a kid, filled with notes from friends, birthday and Christmas cards from my parents, friendship bracelets that Suzie and I exchanged. All of that was gone now, just like whatever was left between us. Nothing like that could have withstood the heat of the flames, just like our friendship.

  I don’t know if I will ever be able to forgive her for the part that she played in all this. In the back of my mind I know that it wasn’t her fault—that she was just doing what she needed to feed the addiction that had taken over her life. But I’m not sure if I’m a good enough person to see past what she’s done. I’d like to think that one day I will be, but only time will tell.

  Mom is being looked after by Sally at the Summers’ house, and it seems like she’s slowly coming back to us. It’s baby steps, but we’re making progress all the time. Jonah has taken it upon himself to be her personal doctor, and the sweetness that he treats her with is enough to make even the hardest of hearts sing. I don’t know if she’ll ever be the person that she was before, or even anything close to that, but I have to hope.

  Sally had called it a miracle that my mother had started to find her way out of the darkness. I had thought that miracles didn’t happen in places like Painted Rock, but I suppose I was wrong. I smile as I think about Jake and I suppose what we’ve found together in each other is another little miracle, a bit like a flower growing out of the dusty desert. Something beautiful and fragile and all our own.

  I wander over the broken and sometimes still-smoldering house, and as I make my peace with what happened here and decide to move on without looking back, as I turn to head back to the body shop where I know Jake will be waiting for me, something catches my eye. I squat down, ignoring the soot that flies up, coating my legs in black powder.

  I delve into the remnants of what could have been my bedroom and lift out the object that had grabbed my attention. The photo is curled a little in the heat and there are some soot marks over it, but it’s still easy to see what it is. It’s the photo of Jake’s birthday that I’d found, and as I look at it again I see Sally in heated conversation with Travis, the man that has ruined this town.

  Without thinking twice, I fold the photo and stick it into my back pocket. I may not know what it means right now, but I feel like the key to the Bleeding Angels’ desperation for Jake is there. I just have to figure out what it is. It’ll take some time, but I’m going to get to the bottom of it.

  There are too many secrets and too many lies in this town. If things are ever going to change in Painted Rock, we’re going to have to start bringing some of them to light. Jake and I will do it together, just like we’ve done everything.

  I walk back towards the body shop, my head held higher than it’s been in a long while. We only have a month’s grace before the Angels come for Jake again, but a lot can happen in a month and I’m going to make damn sure that there are some changes. They’re not going to take him, not as long as I have anything to do with it. They’re not going to take him from me. I won’t let them.

  Read on for a sneak peek at the breath-taking sequel: Hearts of Winter

  Available soon

  Now, a sneak peek at Hearts of Winter

  PROLOGUE

  There’s nothing like sifting through the soot-stained wreckage of your home to give you some perspective on your life. I find that I keep going back to the remnants of the building where I grew up, the place that had been filled with so many memories good and bad, filled with so many ghosts. I wonder if this is how it is all going to end, in a fireball that leaves everything blackened and charred behind it, destroying the very foundations of our lives. But I can’t let myself believe that. I refuse to lose hope. I can’t, because if I do then what is left? What is left behind when everything else comes crashing to the ground?

  It was something that my dad had told me, one of the many phrases of his that I carry with me in his absence. They’re
my security blanket. “Keep the faith, hold on tight to it; if you have hope then there is always a chance that tomorrow will be better.” That night he had been comforting me after some bigger kids at school had been picking on me and calling me names because I was so tall. But I cling onto those words now, wondering if he had been hopeful that awful night when the leader of the Bleeding Angels, Scar, took him away from me. I wonder if my father really believed that things were going to get better. I have to think that he did, I need to believe that he was right, that all is not lost, that as long as we trust that tomorrow will be better than today then we’re on the right track.

  But it’s getting harder and harder to see how things can ever improve in Painted Rock. After everything that has happened, to my family, to my friends, to the man I love, I wonder if hope is stronger than the fear and cruelty that the Angels use to keep this town under their control.

  As I stand up and start walking away from the wreck of rubble that was once my home, the sky starts to break out into an array of colors. There are oranges, reds, yellows and all the shades in-between bouncing around the heavens as the sun starts to rise. I could ignore the beauty of the sunrise and take it just as the normal start of yet another day, a day that takes us closer to the horror that awaits us. I could do that. But I won’t. Despair and hopelessness would be easy and I never had been one to do things the easy way.

  “I’m listening to you, Dad” I say, staring up at the sky and drinking in the beauty of what I’m seeing. I stand like that for what must be nearly twenty minutes as the sun rises and the colors of the sky change and morph spectacularly. “I’ll keep the faith, I’ll keep trying,” I pledge softly and I start making my way back towards the body shop. As I walk I let an unfamiliar feeling overcome me and it takes a little while for me to recognize it; it’s hope.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I think we should just spend all our time right here,” I sigh as I lay my head contentedly on Jake’s muscular chest.

  “No argument here,” Jake replies as he absently strokes my back, tracing his fingers softly over the skin. “It’d help if you stopped sneaking out during the night,” he points out and I don’t argue, I know he’s right, I just hadn’t realized that he’d found me out.

  We’re all tangled up in the sheets, our legs wrapped around each other, our bodies so close that there’s no telling where one ends and the other begins. It’s only been a few days since our lives were turned upside down but, lying in bed together in Jake’s makeshift studio above his father’s body shop, all of that feels like a world away.

  “Winters, I can hear the cogs in your brain turning,” Jake tells me gently as he shifts us both so we’re facing each other. “What’s up?” he asks, his voice soft and full of concern.

  I look in his brown eyes and, for a moment, I forget about the reality of what our lives have become; the reality that we only have a few short weeks together before the Bleeding Angels come for Jake. I reach across to trace the line of dark stubble along his strong jaw-line and wonder again at how long it took me to realize that my best friend was so much more than that. Now that I know what Jake means to me, I’m even more scared of losing him.

  “Just thinking,” I reply, shrugging. I don’t need to say any more than that, his eyes show his understanding and he pulls me tighter to him. He knows exactly what I’ve been thinking about.

  “We have a month,” he reminds me, “we can’t spend all the time we have thinking about what’s going to happen at the end of it. It’ll just drive us both crazy,” he finishes, sighing.

  “I know, I know,” I concede; he is right after all. “But we can’t just forget about what’s going on, what’s going to happen,” I tell him. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but we’re going to need to start making plans,” I point out.

  “Plans for what, Aimee?” he asks, suddenly frustrated, sitting up in bed abruptly and releasing his hold on me.

  “To get out of here,” I remind him.

  “Okay, let’s say for the sake of argument that there was any way that was possible, how would we do it?” Jake asks, getting out of bed and pulling on his crumpled jeans from the floor. He starts pacing around the studio floor, looking anywhere but at me.

  “All we need is a car, we just drive, get out of this town,” I tell him, wondering why it’s so hard for us to have this conversation and if it’s going to get any easier.

  “And what stops the Angels from coming after us?” Jake asks, as he starts fiddling with the coffee filter.

  “We have to try,” I say, trying not to wring my hands.

  “Right,” he snorts dismissively, slamming the jug into the machine and leaning over the counter of what serves as his makeshift ‘kitchen’. “And once we manage to get out of town, that’s assuming the Angels haven’t followed us and dragged us back or worse, what do we do for money? They took everything,” he reminds me.

  “I know that Jake,” I say, for the first time my voice getting louder and harsher. Rationally, I know that he’s still in shock over the events that took place only a couple of nights ago and I’m aware that he’s probably as scared as I am over what’s going to happen to him and to us. But I refuse to be his punching bag or the outlet for his frustrations. “I know they took everything; every damn dollar that I have been saving, I was there, remember? I was there when they burned my home to the ground, I haven’t forgotten, Jake,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice steady although it’s threatening to break at any time.

  He doesn’t reply straight away, instead I see his chest rise and fall as he takes some deep breaths, getting himself back under control, calm. “I’m sorry,” he says after a few moments as the silence stretches out between us.

  “It’s alright,” I reply automatically, suddenly not in the mood to talk about how screwed up our lives are. I jump out of bed and grab a band to pile my dark hair up on my head, not even looking in Jake’s direction. “I’m going to take a shower,” I throw back over my shoulder as I head to the bathroom. Jake fitted it out himself when he’d decided to move out of the Summers home and into the body shop.

  I lean my head against the cool glass of the mirror, trying to get myself under control. I can feel my heart racing and my breath starting to come in gasps. I think about the fact that we have less than a month before the Angels come for Jake and we can’t even talk about what’s going to happen without fighting. I’ve suffered from panic attacks for years and I know the only way to get past them is to breathe deeply, to try to calm myself down. It only takes a few breaths today, it’s not a bad one.

  I turn the shower on as hot as I can stand it and stare at my reflection. Green cat eyes stare back at me and I wonder if it’s just my imagination or if they look older than they did only a few short days ago. My vision is obscured by the steam settling over the mirror as the bathroom heats up. I shake my head, reminding myself that wallowing in how hard things are isn’t going to help anyone; not me and definitely not Jake.

  Stepping into the shower I gasp quickly as the hot water hits my skin, but it’s exactly what I need. The sound of the pounding water goes some way to drowning out the nagging, anxious voices circling round in my mind. I pull the band out of my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders before I duck my head under the beating water. I close my eyes, starting to work the shampoo through my hair and I try to concentrate on the simple task of showering. It’s comforting to focus on standard, boring, day to day activities, concentrating on them stops me from thinking about everything I wish I could forget about.

  There’s a noise behind me that catches me off guard and I whip around, almost losing my footing on the slippery, wet floor, but a strong arm reaches out to steady me. I’ve been a little jumpy since the fire. I blink the shampoo foam out of my eyes to find Jake standing naked in front of me, his dark brown eyes looking even darker than usual. His proximity making every part of my body feel like it’s standing to attention, as if I’ve been half-asleep until this moment.

>   “I’m sorry,” Jake says quietly, reaching out his hand and running his thumb over my cheek, an action that has become our shorthand.

  “I know,” I reply, breathing out softly as I feel my body responding to him immediately.

  “No, really,” he tells me, his voice serious. “I acted like an idiot, it’s not fair for me to take out the way I feel on you. Especially not when you’re the reason we have this time together at all,” he says, leaning his head towards mine until my forehead touches his full lips.

  “It’s okay,” I tell him, my voice coming out breathless as his touch works its magic on me, giving me goosebumps and a feeling of warmth in my belly all at the same time. “I’m scared too,” I assure him. Even though he hasn’t said the words I know that’s how he’s feeling. We’ve been friends for too long for me not to know Jake’s signs and tells.

 

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