by Carina Adams
“It was nice to finally meet you, Cris,” Jess spoke in her sing-song voice. “I hope we get to spend time together soon. I think we’re gonna be great friends.”
I dragged her from the house before Cris could respond.
As soon as the door closed, Jessie turned and grabbed my shoulder. “What happened to her face?”
“Shooter.” I shouldn’t have told her, but I needed Jess to understand how fucking dangerous that club was. I needed her to see that it wasn’t a place for nice girls like her.
Fury filled her eyes and made her entire body tense. “Has my dad seen her? Does he know?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Unbelievable.” She shook her head in disgust. “That’s why you brought her up here, isn’t it?”
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t going to tell her a thing about the shit that happened in the club. If she wanted answers, she could dial up her old man or her brother. One of them would tell her, even though it was against the rules.
“How much trouble is she in?”
“I don’t know.” That was the truth. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on.
“And you?” She sighed. “How bad is it going to be?”
“Ain’t gonna be pretty,” was all I managed to say.
“Well, shit.”
I rarely heard Jessie curse. I clicked my tongue. “Language, jailbait. Your mother hears you talking like that, and she’ll kick Tank’s ass.”
“I hate that name,” Jessie pouted, her forehead wrinkling. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”
I knew she hated it, which was why I used it so often. To me, she’d always be a little girl.
“I don’t think Matt likes being called Mateo, but that hasn’t stopped you from using it,” I argued.
“Good point.” Jess smiled up at me as if I was the most brilliant man she’d ever met. “I won’t always be in high school, you know,” she whispered.
“No. But you’ll always be Tank’s baby sister.” I ignored the way her face fell. When she didn’t let me go, I gripped her wrist and tugged it away from my shirt before dropping it at her side. “Thanks for the food.”
“Anytime. It was the least I could do.” She walked to her car slowly, as if she was on display.
Maybe if I’d been another guy my eyes would’ve been glued to her ass. Or I would’ve admired the clothes she’d no doubt chosen for my benefit. It annoyed me that she felt she had to put that much effort into grabbing my attention. I wasn’t worth it, and I sure as hell wasn’t interested.
She turned and looked at me, expecting me to say something profound. I lifted a hand. “Drive safe.”
I stood where I was until she pulled her car onto the road and then I retreated back inside.
“This is really great pie,” Cris mumbled, her mouth full, as she lifted a plate toward me. “Like, really good.”
She was absurd. And annoying as black flies on a warm spring day. “That’s my pie.”
Cris swallowed, her eyes never straying from me. “Is that supposed to be metaphorical?”
“What?” I grabbed my soda from the spot I’d left it. “You’re eating my pie. I pointed it out. How is that metaphorical?”
She cut a large bite of crust with her fork and lifted a shoulder in an almost careless shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe by telling me it’s your pie, you’re really saying that Jessie belongs to you.” She stabbed the piece and shoved it into her mouth. “Don’t worry. It was already painfully obvious.”
“Nah, brat.” I took a long drink. “I was telling you to keep your hands off my pie.”
“Not a problem. Your pie isn’t really my type.”
“Just shut up and eat.” We had serious things to discuss.
She didn’t let it go. “Does Tank know you’re sleeping with his sister?” she asked, voice muffled from another bite. “Because he seriously freaked out about how you and Matty would react when you found out I’d seen his tattoo. I’m thinking he wouldn’t have been so worried if he knew you were bumping uglies with China Doll.”
Rubbing my temples, I fell into the chair beside her. Cris was more than a migraine. She was a bleeding ulcer waiting to happen.
“One,” I ground out, barely holding onto my patience, “I’m not sleeping with Jessie. She’s a child. Two, China Doll? Really? And three—,”
“As if Mateo is any better,” Cris interrupted before I could finish my thought. “She looks like a doll. Seriously, if Mattel took her features and that outfit she wore today, and made her into a doll, you’d have hundreds of parents running out to get the next big thing. Every kid would want a Biker Barbie.”
If Cris hadn’t been talking about my friend, I probably would’ve laughed. Biker Barbie did fit Jess. Perfectly, actually. Instead, I glowered at the woman next to me.
She didn’t let it faze her. “I’m not going to go around spilling your secrets. It’s not a big deal. She seems nice. And she’s beautiful. You could do worse. But you should probably tell Tank you’re boning his little sister before he finds out from someone else.”
“I am not boning Tank’s little sister,” I ground out.
“Yeah” Cris shot me a look that clearly said she thought I was an idiot. “I’m not stupid. You called her babe. I heard you.”
“I call everyone ‘babe’. It’s not a term of endearment.”
“You don’t call me ‘babe’.” She pointed out.
“I don’t,” I agreed. “Because you’re a pain in the ass. That’s why I call you brat.”
She flipped me off, which reminded me of something she’d said earlier.
“When did you see Tank’s tattoo?” When she didn’t answer, taking yet another bite to avoid my question, I leaned close, eyes narrowed. “Brat,” I growled. “Tell me which tattoo we’re talking about.”
Tank had more ink than I did, but there were only two images on his body that he would be worried about me knowing Cris had seen. Neither were in a place that she should have ever had the option to spy. His overall health and wellbeing balanced on how she chose to answer.
Her eyes widened slightly. Then she avoided the question. “Why do you call everyone ‘babe’? Sleep with so many women it’s too difficult to try to remember their names?”
“Which tat? When?” I countered, not letting her change the subject.
“Because,” she continued, as if she hadn’t heard me, “most men only use the term babe for two reasons. One, they’re totally in love and want everyone to know that their girlfriend is taken. Or they are a total asshat who needs to call everyone with a vagina ‘babe’ because in their mind women are completely interchangeable.” She gave me a slight, close-lipped smile. “Are you really trying to tell me you’re the latter?”
I nodded, giving in. “Not trying to tell you anything. I am that dick. I’m not going to learn a woman’s name. I don’t give a shit what it is. Even if someone tells me, I’ll forget it within five minutes. Because it doesn’t matter to me. Now, answer my questions.”
She frowned. “Are you being serious right now? Because even I wouldn’t say you’re that bad. And I hate you.”
“As a heart attack.”
Her eyes grew wide and her eyebrows rose in an almost comical way. “You’re not kidding.”
“I’m not. Now tell me when you saw Tank’s tattoo, and which one you fucking saw.”
“No.” She shook her head.
“No?”
“It’s none of your business,” she huffed. “What I do with Tank, or anyone else, has nothing to do with you.”
I ground my teeth. I’d fucking kill him. If he had touched her, it didn’t matter that he was my friend, he was fucking dead.
“Cris,” I forced out, surprised by how normal I sounded, “stop stalling.”
She snorted. “Oh, please. If anyone is diverting, it’s you asking about Tank when we both know you don’t give a shit. So, let’s get to it, shall we?” She lifted a hand. “Are you really going to Boston tomorrow?”
I let her change the subject. It was better than talking about my soon-to-be dead friend. “My president called me home. That means I go.”
She pushed the plate of half-eaten dessert away and stared down at the table. “Will they hurt you because of me?”
“No. If they hand me my ass, it’ll be because of my actions. What I did. Not you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey.” I leaned forward and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me. “You do not apologize. Not for that shit. You hear me? That’s not on you. I knew what I was doing when I held a gun to his head.”
Her eyes closed, shutting me out. “I’m scared,” she admitted quietly. “They aren’t like you. They’re…”—she swallowed and then blew out a long breath—“dangerous.”
I chuckled. Her eyes flew open, confusion wrinkled her forehead.
“Nah. They just want you to think they are. Guys like Shooter are bullies. They’re washed-up pussies who prey on those weaker than them. The women they hurt won’t fight because they don’t think they deserve better. The men who think they’re his friends are only there because they’re too afraid to be alone.” I lifted her chin a bit higher. She needed to listen, let my words sink in. “Pricks like Shooter only have power because people give it to them. Once that power is gone, he’s nothing. I’m going to make sure he is less than nothing.”
“That doesn’t make me any less worried.” The fear in her eyes was unmistakable. She was truly terrified.
“You never need to be afraid for me. I can handle myself.”
She gave me a dirty look and tried to pull away. I didn’t let her go. “You think you’re so freaking tough.” She rolled her eyes. “You and Matty both. You know you’re just flesh and bone, like any man, right?”
“Well, they do say Matty has been blessed by the Gods,” I teased, hoping to erase her worry.
“Ugh,” she groaned. “Don’t remind me.” Then her face fell. “Matty.” She swallowed roughly. “He doesn’t…” She clenched her fists, almost as if she was angry at the words she was trying to say. “He isn’t friends with Shooter, is he?”
“Fuck no. He hates that prick just as much as I do. More. And after what happened…” I trailed off, not wanting to tell Cris that it was a miracle her brother hadn’t butchered the fucker yet. “What in the hell would make you think that?”
“Jessie,” she started slowly. “She said that the women in the club—”
“Love him,” I interrupted. “They love him. Because they want to. Not because they have to,” I tried to assure her, but hearing her brother fucked everything that moved probably wasn’t comforting.
“Then why are you with them? If you all hate him so much, why be around him at all?”
It was a valid question. One I didn’t have an answer to. At least not one I could give her. Instead, I dropped my hand and leaned back. “We need to figure out where you’re going to go.”
“Go?” she repeated, her voice tinged with worry.
“I won’t leave you here without a car,” I explained. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
She watched me wearily, confusion clear. “I’m going home.”
“The fuck you are!” I smacked my hand on the table when she opened her mouth, no doubt to argue. “Did you forget what started this shit to begin with?”
“It’s been such a fun few days, how could I ever forget?” She inhaled sharply, eyes narrowed and shooting fire. “I’m still going home.”
I wheezed out a humorless laugh. “Okay, brat. You keep telling yourself that.” I pushed my chair back. “I’ll find someone to come stay with you.”
Cris shot to her feet, braced her hands on the table, and leaned over into my face. “I have classes tomorrow,” she hissed the words.
“You can miss a few days. We don’t know what in the fuck is going on—,”
“A few days?” she snarled, cutting me off. “I am not missing school because you decided to be a dick.”
I’d never met someone as frustrating as she was. Cris could drive a normal, calm, and sane man into a homicidal, batshit crazy one in a matter of minutes. I wasn’t normal, calm, or sane. Fuck, she was going to make me lose my mind. I gripped the edge of the table to keep myself from shaking her.
“What in the hell did you think was going to happen? You’d tell your brother that monster was out of prison, admit you were scared shitless, and Matt would listen, pat you on the head, and send you back to your apartment alone? Are you out of your fucking mind?” I smirked at her naïveté. “Nah, Princess. He wouldn’t have let you out of his sight. And I’m sure as hell not letting you go back there.”
Her nostrils flared as she realized I was right. “I’m going back to my apartment. Either you take me, or I’ll walk.” She spun around, stomping from the room.
Before I could stop myself, I was on my feet and grabbed her arm. “Try it,” I countered as I backed her into the closest wall, bracing my arms next to her head, boxing her in. “And I’ll drag your ass back here and lock you in.”
“That’s kidnapping.” She thrust a fist against my shoulder, attempting to shove me back. I leaned into her more. Her voice wobbled as she tried to move me away from her. “You can’t force me to stay here. It’s a violation of your parole. You wouldn’t risk it.”
I was out, free and clear. I’d done my time, no probation, no parole. And she didn’t have a fucking clue what I’d risk. But she didn’t need to know any of that. Let her think whatever she wanted to.
I pushed my body closer to hers. “Don’t tempt me.”
Her hands curled into fists, frustration oozing out of her. “You’re such a pain in the ass!”
I snorted. “Feeling is mutual, brat.”
She took a deep breath. “Is it completely impossible for you not to be a dick for a few hours? This isn’t your decision. You have to go to Boston, remember? There is no way you can keep me here. I’m going home.”
“Is it completely impossible for you to just do what you’re told?”
“Newsflash, asshole. You don’t give me orders. I do what I want.”
“You’ve made that perfectly clear,” I ground out, my voice clipped. “Princess Crissia does what she wants, when she wants. Screw anyone one who gets in her way, right? Problem with that is that when you crash and burn, you drag everyone down with you.”
“Why do you care? Jesus. I’m not your responsibility!”
She adjusted slightly, attempting to move away from me, and her nose brushed against mine. Her breath caught. We both froze.
We were uncomfortably close. I’d been so pissed I hadn’t realized how far I’d moved in, how near my face had gotten to hers. I knew I should back up, give her space. I didn’t.
“But you are!” I snarled. “When I promised your brother I’d watch out for you, I meant it.”
“That was years ago! A lifetime,” she yelled. “Everything is different now! I don’t need you anymore.”
Anymore.
That one word hit me like a lightning bolt, jarring my senses. I forgot whatever insult I’d been about to hurl her way, completely caught off guard. I pushed away from her slightly, putting much-needed distance between us. For a few heartbeats, I was stuck there, suspended in time, staring down at her.
There had been a time when a lost teenaged girl had shoved me away, told me that she didn’t need me. I hadn’t believed her, yet I’d listened anyway. I’d walked away.
It was a mistake that I could never take back, but one that I’d never make again.
Cris couldn’t see it, too stuck in her own head, too blinded by tunnel vision, but she did need me. Maybe more than she ever had. Even if I didn’t want her to. Especially since she didn’t think she did.
As sky-blue eyes glowered up at me, silently daring me to challenge her, something inside me shifted.
“Why?” I demanded softly. “Why can’t you just listen to me and stay here? Why do you have to go back to your apartment?”
>
“Why does it matter to you?” she countered.
I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know how. It was more than honoring Hannah. Bigger than a vow to her brother. And had absolutely nothing to do with the fake-ass claim I’d staked at the clubhouse.
I couldn’t stand this woman. Every single thing about her annoyed me. Half the time, I detested her; the other, I barely tolerated her. And I knew she felt the same about me.
There was something else, though. I couldn’t explain it. There was a part of her, that lost and lonely, broken piece, that I understood. I had one, too.
The need to protect her was pure instinct. One damaged person shielding another. I’d move heaven and hell to make sure she was safe.
I couldn’t tell her that, though. So, instead, I answered her question the way she expected. “I don’t give two shits what you do. But your brother does. Since he’s not here, I’m stuck with you.”
One of her eyebrows popped. “You’re right. He’s not here.” Before I could stop her, she dropped and slid under my arm. “I’m going home.” She tossed the words over her shoulder as she rushed out of the kitchen
I pounded the wall with my fist. Fuck. I didn’t have another option. I couldn’t leave her there, and I sure as hell wasn’t taking her back to Boston.
I had a bad feeling about Glass. There were too many unanswered questions. There was no way to tell whether he knew where to find her or not. I didn’t know his conditions of release. Worse than that was that I didn’t know if he was looking for her. I didn’t have enough facts, and there were too many variables.
Sighing, I grabbed the phone. I’d call in every favor, each debt owed, until I got the information I needed. It was going to be a busy few hours. Because before I left Cris, I needed to know she was going to be safe until I could get back to her.
14
Cris
“Holy hell,” Katie muttered, dropping the pen she’d been tapping mindlessly against a notebook on the table. She hesitated just a millisecond, her mouth falling open slightly as she eyed Rob and me before she rushed across our kitchen. “Oh, my God! Your face! What happened?” Tears welled in her eyes.