Dead Man's Isle (Harlequin Crew #2)

by Caroline Peckham

  She pouted at me, her hand falling to my thigh and squeezing. “I miss you. I heard you got shot, I was so worried. Is your phone broken or something?”

  “No,” I grunted. I always treated her like this, like she meant nothing, like her mouth was good for one thing and to be honest it wasn’t even that good at it. If I really analysed it, I guessed it was because I was an asshole. And if I really, really analysed it, it went even deeper than that. Rosie Morgan had given Rogue hell when they lived together in their group home as kids. Frankly, I didn’t like the bitch, and fucking her whilst treating her like shit had felt kind of cathartic. I’d never promised her shit though, so she really only had herself to blame every time she came crawling back into my life for more punishment. I’d never once been nice to her, so what did that say about her? It wasn’t anything good, that was for sure. Was I responsible for her pining over me and begging for my cock even when I never made any attempt to make her come? Nope. Maybe she knew deep down she deserved this shit, because Rosie was a bitch plain and simple for all the world to see. She used to rat out Rogue to their group home carer Mary-Beth for all kinds of shit, plus she’d make out Rogue hit or called her names to make sure she got given priority in the TV room – and yeah okay, sometimes Rogue did those things when Rosie was being a twat, but most of the time she didn’t.

  But my girl’s name got blackened so Mary-Beth always sided against her, meaning she lost out on her privileges more often than not and Rosie took the few comforts away from her that her shitty life had to offer.

  Rosie reached out to run her fingers over the reddened flesh left by the gunshot wound on my arm which was scarring up nicely. “Poor baby.”

  I finished my cigarette and flicked the butt away. Not at her, well okay I didn’t exactly not aim at her because she had to swerve it with a squeak of fright. I felt extra pissed at her today, with her too easy life and her days spent here in Sunset Cove while my girl had been lost far, far away from town. I’d once have handed Rosie right into the hands of the Devil if it would have brought Rogue back. Maybe I’d still do it just to see if it might fix things anyway.

  “How’d you even find me here?” I took out my cigarettes, lighting up another one and she stole one from my packet too, slipping it into her mouth and trying to look sexy as she took my lighter from beside me and lit the end.

  I was pretty sure she was trying to impress me, but I’d stopped thinking smoking was cool years ago, now I was just an addict who needed nicotine lacing his blood and soothing his worries. Not that it lasted that long, hence the chain smoking.

  “You passed my car on your motorcycle,” she said with a smirk.

  “So you followed me?” I asked in a growl and she shrugged innocently, batting her lashes like I might think it was cute. I didn’t.

  Her hand dropped to my thigh again and I jerked it up to knock it off. She frowned, going all moody faced.

  “What’s going on with you?” she demanded. “I’m your girlfriend, you can’t just ignore me for weeks and not even see me when you get shot, Chase. It’s not okay.”

  “Firstly, you’re not my girlfriend,” I said as I sucked on my cancer stick. “And secondly, I can do whatever the fuck I like because of the first reason. I can draw you a negative feedback diagram if you like.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re so blind. I know you wanna keep up this tough guy act in front of your friends, but you always come back to me. Your heart wants me, Chase, just admit it.”

  “My heart’s got better things to do than want you, Rosie. Like beating blood around my body.” And being eternally broken over Rogue.

  Instead of being insulted by that, her eyes just moved to my damp boxers and the outline of my cock within them. She licked her lips again and my dick recoiled. How had I ever even let her put those lips on my cock before now? Oh yeah, rum. Maybe there really was something to be said for this sober bullshit. My mind was as clear as a blue sky and there wasn’t a single thought in my head dedicated to Rosie. Nope, they were all reserved for Rogue just like they always used to be. Rogue my nemesis, Rogue my downfall, Rogue my forbidden desire. Nah, changed my mind. I missed the rum, just not the pussy I chose when I was drinking it.

  My phone buzzed angrily and I took it out of the carrier bag, finding a couple of messages from Fox.

  Fox:

  Now, Chase.

  Fox:

  Are you fucking with me?

  Fox:

  You don’t wanna play this game. I want a sober reading right now, Chase Cohen.

  I can’t believe he full named me. What an asshole.

  I sighed, getting up and grabbing the breathalyser from the box under the seat of my motorcycle and Rosie watched in confusion as I breathed into it until it beeped then sent Fox a photo of it with me putting my middle finger up in the background.

  “What’s with the breathalyser?” Rosie demanded, seeming infuriated for some reason.

  “Fox is making me go sober because apparently I’m a liability,” I told her.

  “Is that why you’re never at parties anymore?” She frowned like this was the end of her whole world.

  “I guess.” I shrugged.

  “Ergh, fuck Fox, why’s he got to be such a bore?”

  “Probably because I was gonna die choking on my own vomit if he didn’t ban me from the shit,” I said taking my clothes out of the carrier bag and pulling them on. She watched me closely, her eyes roaming over my body and making my skin prickle. I may not have had sex in a long fucking time, but I wasn’t remotely interested in getting my end away with her again. Being sober meant she looked as appealing as a toad in a bonnet to me. I mean, all props to the toad for dressing up nice, but I just wasn’t into amphibians.

  “That’s ridiculous,” she muttered then her eyes sparkled with an idea. “Hey, I could get us some weed? There’s a party on the beach tonight, we could get silly and you could do that butt thing to me again with-”

  “No thanks,” I cut her off. “Sober means sober.”

  “Yeah, but weed won’t show up on that breath thingy. Fox won’t know,” she implored.

  “My position in the Harlequins is up for question, Rosie, do you not get that? I’m not smoking pot, I’m not drinking rum, I’m staying as sober as a priest so long as Fox tells me to because I’d rather die than lose my brothers.”

  She sighed disappointedly. “Fine. But come to the party anyway.”

  “He said no,” Fox’s deep voice resounded from behind me and Rosie paled as her eyes whipped over my shoulder.

  I turned as he and JJ moved either side of me and Fox folded his arms, glaring down his nose at Rosie with dislike in his gaze.

  Rosie bowed her head like a shamed dog. “I just think it’s a bit extreme to stop him from having any fun,” she muttered.

  “If you think fun looks like Chase half killing himself every night, then you’ve got a fucked up idea of it,” Fox bit at her. “But feel free to go ahead and continue to have as much fun as you like on your own, Rosie.”

  She kept her eyes downcast, her cheeks turning pink then she huffed, giving me a longing look before heading back to her car.

  Relief filled me as JJ clapped a hand on my shoulder and I looked to him with a half smile. “Why’s your hair wet? Tell me you didn’t go muff diving in Rosie’s reef?”

  “Ergh,” I laughed, shoving him away and he started wrestling me. Fox scruffed my hair and the three of us started tussling like kids until we all fell on our asses on the grass beside the bench. I smiled as I lay among my brothers, knowing it was where I belonged, even if some pieces of us were carved off and missing. I just had to hold on tight to what was left and never let go.

  “Luther was a no show, so we’ll have to have that meeting with him some other time,” Fox said and I nodded.

  “So come on, what’s with the wet hair?” JJ pressed.

  “My dad gave me his boat,” I told them as I gazed up at the endless sky.

  “Seriously?” Fox que
stioned.

  “Uhuh. I drove it out to sea and sank it by Falcon Rock where he could watch.” I grinned. “You should have seen his face when I swam back to shore.”

  They laughed and JJ threw an arm around me. “Did he shake his cane at you?”

  “Yeah,” I snorted.

  “Make me a promise, Ace,” Fox said. “If you ever destroy any of his property again, bring me with you.”

  “And me,” JJ said excitedly.

  “Deal,” I chuckled. “So are you guys all ready for your next job?”

  “Yup,” JJ said. “It’s gonna be a good one.”

  “You sure you don’t need a decent getaway driver?” I asked with longing in my voice.

  “Basset’s semi-decent,” Fox mocked and I punched him in the arm in frustration.

  “Come on, man,” I begged.

  “No,” he said simply then got up, pulling me after him. “But maybe next time.” He smiled at me, clapping my cheek. “I really am proud of you for staying off the booze, Ace.”

  “Shut up.” I shoved his chest but he just grinned at me.

  “He’s a good boy, isn’t he J?” Fox teased.

  “He’s a real good boy.” JJ pinched my cheek and I threw a punch at him that he danced away from. I couldn’t stop smiling though, because dammit I loved these boys. And nothing and no one was ever going to take them away from me.

  I f I closed my eyes then the dark was my own choice. It had nothing to do with the man who had taken me captive and everything to do with control over my own destiny.

  We'd driven through town in the murder van in silence and had finally pulled up somewhere. But then Luther's phone had started ringing and I'd been left to wait. And wait. And wait.

  Seriously. I was starting to wish he'd just come back and fucking finish it at this point because all of this waiting to die was going to give me a heart attack.

  Luckily the van wasn't hot. The engine was still idling and whoever was in the front clearly had the A/C pumping so at least I hadn't been left in here to cook to death. Though on second thoughts that might have been a kinder fate than what Luther had planned for me. His style was well known –two to the chest and one to the head, unless he wanted to make an example out of someone and then the stories of the torture and bloodshed I’d heard were more than enough to have given me nightmares ever since he’d first placed this threat over my head. And it seemed pretty damn likely to me that he’d want to make an example of someone who went back on a deal they’d made with him like I had. Not that I’d ever been given any choice in the matter. Either way I was done with this waiting.

  I was ready to face this fate, get the fuck on with it and just die.

  The sound of the van door rolling open sent a spike of fear through me and my eyes snapped open as I found two big motherfuckers there, covered in tattoos and looking like an evil version of Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.

  Oh fuck. I don't wanna die. Ignore my last statement universe, because I'm not done with this life no matter how fucking miserable it might have been. My ass is too peachy to end up rotting in some grave in the woods and my tits need more of the good stuff in life. I never even really looked after them all that well but I could wear bras more often, be a more supportive owner of my body if I was just allowed to keep on living in it.

  A meaty hand reached for me while the other dude pointed a big fat shotgun right at my head.

  I moved, fighting down the urge to scream and taking stock of the things I had going in my favour. I wasn't tied up. And I was fast. If I could just figure out some kind of escape plan then I could run for it. I was good at running. Damn good at it. So that was what I was going to have to do.

  I squinted against the brightness of the light outside the van, raising a hand to shield my eyes as a sweaty palm closed around my wrist and began tugging me along. The shotgun jabbed me in the lower back and I sucked in a shaky breath as I tried to get my bearings.

  Shit.

  We were up high on a cliff, the sea air billowing over the bluff and blowing my hair to my left as we walked. My heart began to beat even faster as I recognised our destination.

  We were up on Devil's Pass. The same cliff where my boys had stood over me after becoming Harlequins and had shoved me down in the mud. The same place where they'd broken my heart and sent me away from them. The same place where my once perfectly imperfect life had come to an end right before I'd been cast adrift.

  The shotgun was prodded into my back a little harder and I wasn't surprised to find myself herded towards the little shack which stood just inside the tree line.

  My pulse was pounding even more furiously now because I didn't want to go in there. Not because I was certain my death lay waiting for me inside, but because there was a ghost lurking in there too. The last piece of the girl I'd been. That place held the memories of me waiting for my boys when I'd believed with all my heart that they would come back for me. The last time I'd been so certain of their love that the idea of what had come next never would have even occurred to me.

  This grass I stepped across held a taste of the last time the five of us had all been together. And no doubt my tears had watered it and become a part of the cliff itself. I’d already died here once, and it looked like Luther had decided to haul the rest of me back here to finish the job.

  I stepped into the little shack, remembering the way the rain had leaked through the roof and dripped onto me. Ten years had weathered the place even more and the scent of damp clung to everything.

  Luther sat on a stool which I guessed he'd brought with him because it looked new, solid and clean unlike everything else in here.

  Before him another stool sat in the centre of a clear tarp and my throat closed up as I was forced to walk my ass over to it.

  The plastic crinkled beneath my bare feet and I wondered if it would really be enough to capture every drop of blood in my body? Maybe Luther would torch this place once he was done carving me up too. Just to make certain no piece of me remained.

  My ass hit the stool and a wave of calm suddenly washed over me. I wasn't sure what it was or why, but my fear just melted away. I guessed my body had accepted my fate. This was it. I was here at his mercy and there was no way I could do anything other than accept it and I wanted to go out strong if this really was the end.

  I raised my chin as the two goons turned and left and Luther remained silent until the door closed behind them.

  "It seems you and I are overdue a chat, Rogue Easton," he said slowly, reaching down to his murder bag which sat by his feet and forcing my gaze to follow his movements. My brow furrowed as he pulled two cans from the bag and tossed one to me.

  I caught it automatically, looking down at the cold can of still lemonade in confusion before glancing back up at him.

  "I figure we can try and do this the nice way," Luther explained, cracking his own drink open. "But if that doesn't work out then I assume you know how this will go."

  "You're saying you might not kill me?" I asked, running my finger around the top of the cold can.

  "Maybe is a powerful word in this kind of situation, don't you think?"

  I nodded because fuck yeah it was. I had been deader than dead three seconds ago and now I had a lemonade and a maybe. So I was all ears.

  I cracked the can open and took a hit of sugar to try and help calm my nerves. The drink was cold and sweet and I would have sighed in satisfaction had I not been sitting here prepped for death.

  "So," Luther began, his gaze running over me in an assessing way. "You're back."

  "Seems like it."

  "And Fox is in love with you. Even after all these years." He said it as a statement and I couldn't be sure if that was true or not. Fox certainly made it seem that way sometimes, but he also reminded me of the man sitting before me often enough too. He'd seen something he wanted and was determined to claim it. Was that love? Hard to say. Maybe of the toxic kind.

  "What about the other two? Johnny James and Chase?” I opene
d my mouth to reply but he held up an inked finger. "It might be worth adding here that I’m not a fool. You showed up in town and the three of them banded together to hide you from me. They chose you again just like they did all of those years ago and it seems damn clear to me that this time apart hasn’t dulled the infatuation they all held for you. So I can only assume they all want to claim you for their own."

  My open mouth fell wider and my heart thrashed. What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? He'd just told me he thought his son was in love with me and now he was saying he thought his two best friends wanted me too. That sounded a whole lot like a problem to me. This didn't seem good. Not at all.

  "How's Maverick?" Luther asked, changing lanes again and I just blinked at him. "I know you were out in his compound for more than a week and if the information I was given was correct then it seems he's still quite fixed on you too."

  "I...don't know what to say to all of that," I admitted eventually because what the fuck was I supposed to say?

  Luther watched me closely and I couldn’t help but see so much of Fox in him. He was a powerful man, built tall and broad like his son though his skin was marked with more ink and a scar crossed one side of his jaw. There was a coldness to him which I’d seen in Fox too, a brutality which his son seemed to switch on and off as required but which seemed to live more permanently in this creature. Though maybe that was just because he was looking at me.

  "I'm gonna tell you a story," Luther said, readjusting himself so that his ankle rested across his knee. He held his can of lemonade loose between his fingertips as he leaned towards me to tell me whatever the fuck it was. I felt like a mouse in the paws of a lion but there wasn’t anything I could do other than wait for him to stop toying with me. "I assume you know the basic facts about Fox's mother being out of the picture. But perhaps if you hear the full extent of what she did to me, you might be more inclined to understand why I sent you away ten years ago."