Unravel

by Tara Lynn

  Everett had made me want again. Not just want to be dominated for a night, but possessed.

  Allowing myself to admit that made me feel freer than anything had before. Maybe he was the only one who could. Not my work, not Austin, not me. Just him.

  What would I do when he’d be living hours away? Anxiety churned my stomach.

  I wanted him too much. It felt worse than just letting him go.

  But the day passed, and when I got back home, my heart leapt at the sight of his chopper in the driveway.

  My mom called out to me as I passed her in the living room, but I said only the smallest things and rushed up. Everett's room door sat wide open and he lay propped up on the bed lazily, gazing out. He wore just a tight white t-shirt and his rough cut jeans.

  His mouth flashed in a wicked smile at the sight of me. I paused at the door, unsure of what to say as he sat up.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

  A dozen things crossed my brain, all the worries I’d fretted about today.

  But all that made it to my mouth was. “Make it up tonight.”

  He grinned, came up to the door and wrapped me up with a kiss.

  “I can't fucking wait,” he growled in my ear.

  And when our folks turned the light out, got up and went into the rooms, I brushed and lay and waited. Not long after, a creak came from outside, and then my door creaked open, too.

  That sound had meant horrendous things once, and my heart clenched a moment. But Rett came in shirtless, and the moment I recognized his face, the fear dissolved, released to giddy excitement. My legs almost parted on their own as he climbed over me.

  “We have to be quiet,” he whispered, right before he kissed me.

  “I will.”

  His gorgeous mouth curved up. “I'm not going to make it easy for you though.”

  I sighed and cupped his cheeks with both hands. “I don't think you know how.”

  The smiled dimmed, but I pulled him to me.

  And as he set to work, and my thoughts faded under a wave of lust, I had the last worry.

  Maybe I could steer him away from the MC. Maybe I could set him free. But there was barely any time. Soon I’d be away from here.

  The clock was ticking down, distant but certain.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Everett

  I had seen many things I wished would abandon my thoughts, but nothing quite held a candle to this. To see my legacy tarnished so completely was unbearable.

  Men – no kids – ran recklessly to their demise even though they could see what was coming. The astroturf on the field might as well have been stained red with blood.

  “Again,” I screamed at my wannabe replacement.

  Groaning, the sophomore scraped himself off the field. He was clad in padding that was thicker than what I normally wore, but he looked broken. The two linebackers who had tackled him looked at me and shrugged.

  I wasn't pissed at them. They did their job. This kid though – he wasn't amounting to shit. I went over and huddled with him as he walked back to the 1st down.

  “What's your goddamn play?” I said.

  “Play?” the kid muttered airily through his helmet.

  “You're the fucking QB. What the hell are you running?”

  The kid looked up and down the empty field. The stadium lay completely except for the other players on the benches and a couple stragglers in the front rows.

  “I don't have a team,” he said. “How do I have a play?”

  I rapped his white helmet. “The play is in here first. If you don't see what you want, having help won't bring it to life.”

  The kid nodded, but I could see he didn't get it. The quarterback was the brains. He held the vision – without that future, the game meant nothing but a bunch of guys slamming into each other.

  The plays might not be perfect. If they went wrong, you adjusted, you learned – tipped the odds further in your favor.

  If only life was the same goddamn way. But when plays went wrong in real, you could end up in the negative. You could end up too deep to ever pull back.

  I didn’t call plays in the MC. Calling shots on which drugs to sell where, which weapons to move? I’d never want that. I just wanted a place where it was ok to be me.

  Protect your own – the words still sounded good on my tongue. But the past days, I kept wondering: what came after? What bigger things kept you riding on each day?

  I’d long accepted that no more football lay in my future. Losing a dream was one thing though. It felt like I’d lost the ability to dream, and that was terrifying.

  Liza. Liza had done this to me, to think about how in the world I could be with her. Precious little time remained, though. Graduation came faster than ever. Thinking about it felt like a boot on my lungs.

  I got the kid back to the starting line and knocked him on the shoulder. I didn't see any potential in him, but then again I'd never coached before. I went back to the sideline by the real coach and stood watching as the kid got sacked again.

  “What did you tell him?” Coach Jacobs asked. He chewed something, and stood in his blue jersey, clasping his arms.

  “Nothing useful, apparently,” I said.

  “They're going easy on him,” the coach said. “What the hell am I supposed to do with a quarterback who can't out-think a couple linebackers?”

  “You got anyone better?”

  “No one that can compare to you.”

  I chuckled. “I'm not anything special, coach.”

  “Bull shit, you ain't.”

  He spit on the ground. There was nothing black in it like the MC guys and their tobacco. I almost felt warm at the gesture.

  “I’m not,” I said. “It's not like I got recruited or anything.”

  Jacobs gave me a strange look. “What?”

  “If I was any decent, people would have come looking for me.”

  The wannabe QB was limping up the field our way, but the coach ignored him and turned his squat body square to me.

  “What in the hell are you talking about?” he said. “You telling me you never talked to that gentleman?”

  He pointed up at the seats, towards a greying but stocky guy sitting up front. The man was looking directly at me. He looked familiar, but damned if I'd ever heard his name.

  “Who is that?”

  “Who is that?!” Coach lifted off his hat and shook his head at the hot blue sky. “Son, that's the goddamn lead scout for the Aggies – Lewson Smith.”

  “Lead scout?”

  My heart pumped like I’d broke into a sprint. The Aggies played for UT-Austin. Despite every truth I knew, a warmth pooled in me. If they wanted me in Austin…

  Well, I couldn’t go, anyway.

  Protect your own. I’d pledged myself to become a full member of the Blood Brothers, and the MC had no business anywhere near Austin.

  Only, now Eliza was mine too. And she’d need me in Austin. Could there be a way to thread that needle?

  “You never talked to that guy?” Coach Jacobs said. “He's been watching every game. He was there when you won the regional championship.”

  All I remembered was rushing out that night, seeing Liza in a pool of streetlight alone in the parking lot. If that had led to where the two of us were now, I held no regrets about choosing her over him.

  The sophomore QB was mumbling something in our faces now, but Coach Jacobs ignored him and walked up the foul line and whistled at the stands.

  Smith stood and filed down onto the field. Jacobs called me over and we stood eye to eye.

  “Smith, why the hell have you been yammering in my ear if you haven't talked to this young man even once?”

  The scout held out a meaty hand. I shook it, felt its power. He had played once, that was for sure.

  “Pleasure to finally meet you, Tull,” he said.

  “Yeah,” was all I could manage.

  “What's been going on here?” Jacobs said. �
�You said you had a sizeable offer for my boy here. I assumed you'd actually gone and delivered it.”

  “There was an offer sent through the mail,” Smith said. “You didn't get it?”

  “To my old address?” I said. “We just moved.”

  “Well, that must be it then.”

  “Bullshit,” Jacobs said. “You find a goddamn prodigy out in Loving and you send him an envelope? I've only had two other kids recruited under me, but they weren't quarterbacks, they weren’t for places like Austin, they weren't half as good as Tull. They still got the royal treatment. You didn't try to reach out?”

  Smith glanced around as if he were hiding a secret. The stadium lay empty, but the way his eyes dashed here and there, he saw shadows we didn’t.

  “I was discouraged from doing that,” he said softly.

  And suddenly, I knew where I’d seen him. It’d only been once – when Clash had been talking to him in the stands after that final game.

  Bragging about me, I thought. And maybe he had, but also to let them know I was theirs.

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Oh,” Jacobs said. He knew, too. No one in Loving crossed the MC.

  Protect your own. The words twisted in my head. They owned me. You protect what you own.

  The whistle blew on a drill further afield, high and perverse.

  Fuck. They didn’t even trust me to make my own choice? I wasn’t just some random prospect. I’d been in the MC for years.

  Starting with my first failed night. A slow chill seeped down me.

  I glanced at the two men waiting expectantly. Maybe the MC was just protecting me from this moment. It all came too easy, forgetting what put me in the MC in the first place. Especially with Liza heavy on my thoughts.

  Liza, who didn’t know who I truly was. Just like these men didn’t.

  “Yeah,” Smith said. “I actually came here hoping to see that arm in action.”

  “That's not what this practice is about,” I said.

  “No.”

  The three of us sat inhaling the fumes of the Texas spring for awhile, chemical and hot. The action on field had stopped. My replacement had simply sat down.

  “What's your new address?” Smith said.

  I gave him Liza's house address. “Why?” I said.

  “Austin will send you the full offer,” he said. “It's still open. I don't fully understand what is happening out in this town, but I made sure they know you exist.”

  I nodded. “I'll keep an eye out for it.”

  “Do that.” He gave me a curious look. “Boy, come play for us. I'm already risking trouble saying that, but I got a feeling you got far more at stake than me. The lord has given me a good enough life to risk passing on a few words. You're too good to become bad. Put your talents to use.”

  He held out a hand.

  I stared at it. A week ago, it would have been useless. The only place that would have me was Loving, in the MC. No force out there could dislodge that.

  But this handshake would let me ride to the same place my girl was headed. It didn’t matter if didn’t cut it on the field – I’d still be her rock. And if it turned out I was as good on the field as I thought, we'd be gorgeous together – her, the artist, me, the beast.

  The dream ran away swiftly. No midnight chime would undo what I’d done – no magic could reverse time. I couldn’t be with her forever without revealing the truth of who I was. If she cast me aside and I washed out from the field, nothing would remain. I’d have no MC, no real home.

  Smith had the luxury of ignorance. If he knew what I had done for the MC, he would have spat in my face and headed back for Austin and a stiff drink.

  “I'll take a look at the offer and let you know,” I said softly.

  Smith tucked his hand back. “That's all I can ask,” he said. “But take a long look, alright? You owe it to yourself.”

  I nodded at the turf. Coach Jacobs was peering up into my face, but I avoided it. He had always seen me in the best light. I didn't want to invite him into the darkness within.

  We ran a few more plays and soon I was riding back home. Liza was waiting for me, as she had been this entire week. We spent near every night together. I grew hard just thinking about the crack of her voice when I made her come. I could do that for her. Some power in me could make her whole.

  But being in her couldn't change what I'd done. I had killed. And I had hurt. Regaining her trust did not absolve me of sin. I belonged with the MC.

  Two days later, the envelope from Austin showed up in the mail.

  I slid it in my desk without so much as creasing the fold. I didn't want to know what I didn't deserve.

  And yet, not two hours later, I let Liza slip into my bed, and slid into her in turn.

  Did I deserve her?

  Maybe not. But I owed my life to her, the bad and the good.

  As long as she lay in reach, I would hold tight and pretend the moment would last forever.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Eliza

  A stack of sauce splattered plates sat under the water in the sink. The mesh sponge grated my skin as I scrubbed, and the lemon soap and scalding water seared my palms and steamed my face.

  Some part of me felt all this, but I hardly cared.

  Soon I'd been upstairs. Soon the lights would turn off throughout the house, and I would get a visitor to my room. Soon another pair of hands would cover mine, bring my hands to his bare body. And he preferred me rough. I’d grip him tight as he thrust into me over and endlessly, round after round until sleep took us.

  He’d been busy with MC business. We hadn't been together in almost a week. It'd be a while before we let each other drift off tonight.

  “You need help, sweetie?”

  I turned away from my dream. My mom had crept up beside me, already changed into a dark night dress, her auburn hair frayed, her worn face wrinkled deeper with pleasant concern.

  “I'm fine.”

  “Your hands look like lobsters.”

  Like anyone in this family had ever even seen lobster. “It's good for them. I'll stay clean.”

  My mother shrugged and fussed over the oven. I tried drifting back to my thoughts. But, of course, things couldn't be that simple.

  “You seem happy,” Mom said.

  “Oh,” I said. “If you say so.”

  A tiny prick of worry hit my brain, though. Maybe my transformation was more than mental. My mom might be weak but that didn’t maker her an idiot. We’d been careful, but maybe not careful enough.

  My mother laughed softly. “It’s just good to see you happy. Ever since that Austin visit, you've been different.”

  “That's the point of visiting, mom. They're trying to get me excited to go to their school. And it worked.”

  “The campus must have been wonderful then.”

  She waited expectantly. I didn't want to trap myself with any detail though.

  “It was nice,” I said.

  “And it's not so far away,” she said. “You can come home now and then.”

  “I can.” I had plenty of reason now.

  But that just tipped my anxiety higher. Yeah, I had Rett here. Bu would Rett still be unchanged, after his life became the MC. I believed him when he said he mostly just made deliveries, but how long could that last?

  “I know we never talked about that when you applied,” my mom said. “We...never talked about a lot of things.”

  “I’m not really much of a talker anyway.”

  “No, I know. But some things shouldn’t stay hidden.”

  I looked up at her, thoughts and boiling water alike completely lost. She glanced helplessly at a table corner, her mouth pressed down.

  She wasn’t talking about me and Rett.

  No. No way.

  My breath sat solid in my chest. Was she going to admit what had happened in her house?

  “We don’t always pick our families right,” she said. “But they’re still family, blood or not. It’s hard to choose
one over another.”

  I said nothing. She shook her head softly and looked up. “Well, at least things are better now. Ronald is a kind man, don't you think?”

  The water rang in the sink. Her face was pleading, like a puppy standing over the carpet she had wet. Her face seemed to wither the longer I didn't speak.