Wings & Roots (The Scions Book 3)

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Wings & Roots (The Scions Book 3) Page 1

by Gemma Weir




  Wings & Roots. The Scions: Book Three

  Copyright © 2019 by Gemma Weir

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover design by Rebel Ink Co

  Interior design by Rebel Ink Co

  Contents

  Also by Gemma Weir

  Scion

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Gemma Weir

  Echo (Archer’s Creek #1)

  Daisy (Archer’s Creek #2)

  Blade (Archer’s Creek #3)

  Echo & Liv (Archer’s Creek #3.5)

  Park (Archer’s Creek #4)

  Smoke (Archer’s Creek #5)

  * * *

  Hidden (The Scions #1)

  Found (The Scions #2)

  Here’s to the books that refuse to be written the way you planned. Brain, this is all your fault.

  Scion

  * * *

  noun

  Sci-on

  Definition

  DESCENDANT, CHILD especially: a descendant of a wealthy, aristocratic, or influential family

  HEIR sense: scion of a railroad empire

  As I stare at my beautiful friend, I realize that as much as I hate to admit it, I’m incredibly jealous of her. Nova is gorgeous, tall, vivacious, and brave; so fucking brave. For the last six months I’ve watched as she’s battled with her own mind and won.

  The thing is; until she fell apart, I’d have called myself a selfless person. I’m always the first to offer to run an errand, do a chore, or volunteer for whatever’s needed. But the day I watched my best friend fall to the floor, lost to her own fear and self-loathing, I realized just how selfish I actually am.

  Our group—‘The Scions’ as we recently found out the kids at school call us—is made up of me, Nova, Zeke, Griffin, and now Valentine. We’re the children of the Doomsday Sinners MC; the next generation, the scions.

  My daddy’s the president of a biker club and a total badass who most people are terrified of. My mom’s a genius; a self-made millionaire and general all-round Wonder Woman. Then there’s me. I look like a watered-down version of my mom. I have her coloring: the fair skin and red hair, but where she’s tall and gorgeous, I’m small and freckled.

  I’m not looking for sympathy or expecting anyone to feel sorry for me because I come from impressive stock. This is just me being honest. In an extraordinary family, I’m ordinary.

  I’m surrounded by people who stand out. Nova’s gorgeous; Zeke’s the golden boy, a larger-than-life personality who everyone wants to be friends with; and Griffin, the happy-go-lucky charmer, is someone you’re just compelled to like.

  The circumstances of our births brought us together, and a lifetime of friendship is what’s kept us that way. Every single one of my firsts was with them. My first steps were taken at Nova & Zeke’s house, my first kiss was with Griffin. They’re my constant, an ever-present part of my life. We’re family, or as close as you can get without matching DNA.

  But growing up as the only normal one in a group of special people is hard. I’m not a social butterfly. I’m not likeable. I’m not easy to befriend. I don’t like parties. I don’t want to date a hundred boys. I don’t like to gossip.

  I’m boring.

  I’m tolerated.

  I’m weird.

  Nova, Zeke, and Griffin know who I am. They accept my flaws and mostly that’s okay. Over the years they’ve refused to let me sink into the background and so I’m a Scion, even if I don’t want to be.

  As I watch Nova pull back her shoulders and visibly steel herself, I try to decide if I could ever be as strong as she is. We’re at a party in a field about a mile away from our high school. I don’t want to be here and neither does she, but nevertheless here we are, because she’s determined to fight her own insecurities.

  I’m in the middle of an epically good book and the urge to read, to lose myself to a fictional world is calling me. Glancing around, I search for anyone who will care if I mentally check out of this godawful party, but all I can see is a crowd of kids, and no one is paying me any attention.

  None of these people are my friends, and even though that’s probably as much my fault as it is theirs, that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like anyone here and they don’t like me. Brittany, Nova’s ex-friend, always took pleasure in reminding me that I didn’t deserve to be popular; that the only reason people tolerated me was because of Zeke, Griff, and Nova, and as much as I always disliked the bitch, she’s right. My dad’s reputation and my friends are the only thing keeping me on the top tier of a social sphere I have zero interest in.

  Scanning the crowd, I search for their familiar faces. Zeke’s in the middle of a group of football players, his head tipped back laughing while the rest of the guys look on. Nova is sat on Valentine’s lap, completely ignoring everyone but him as the group surrounding them try to get the attention of the most popular couple in school. Griffin is wrapped around a girl, her blonde hair all I can see as his lips devour hers.

  And I’m alone.

  Other outsiders stare longingly in the direction of the beautiful people, hating their places on the outside looking in. But for me, I’m not the outsider. I’m one of the popular ones. I’m part of the inner circle and instead of basking in my position, I’m jealous. I envy the ones looking in; I want to be them and isn’t that just an ironic twist of fate.

  The metal tailgate beneath my butt is cold, and I wiggle my weight from side to side trying to find a comfortable spot. What would this party be like if no one here knew who I was? If I was completely anonymous, a stranger.

  A cold laugh escapes me. As if that’s even possible. I doubt there’s a single person here who doesn’t know who I am, or the notoriety that haunts me and my friends. Some people spend their whole lives desperately trying to be seen, but I just want to be forgotten in a world so narrow that I can’t be invisible no matter how hard I try.

  My gaze moves back to Nova and Valentine and I exhale wearily. If Valentine hadn’t come into our lives, I doubt I’d be here right now. When school finished for summer la
st year, I made the conscious decision to distance myself from my friends. Back then it had all seemed so simple. The future was looming ever closer, and all I had left to do was get through my senior year, get into a good college and get as far away as possible from Archer’s Creek. I hadn’t cared about anything else.

  I didn’t think about the friends I was leaving behind. I was selfish enough to only think about myself, what I wanted and how dissolving the bonds I had to my home would make my escape a little easier.

  Everything changed the day I watched my best friend fold into herself and lose the battle with her demons. I had no idea how much she was hurting. I was clueless to her struggles. But I promised her that I’d hold her broken pieces together until she figured out a way to make them all fit again, and I couldn’t do that from a distance.

  “Hey,” Valentine says, hoisting himself up onto the tailgate beside me.

  “Where’s Nova?”

  “Dancing with Zeke,” he says distractedly, his eyes fixed on his girlfriend dancing with her brother. He isn’t looking at me, but I can still feel the intensity rolling off him in waves. “Why are you sitting by yourself?”

  “I don’t mind being alone,” I answer. He and I aren’t close. I’ve forgiven him for what he put Nova through, mainly because she has, but I haven’t forgotten.

  “You’re not like them,” Valentine says in that succinct way of his that has you flinching beneath his hard tone.

  “No, I’m not,” I admit, and even though I’ve always known it was true, for some reason it hurts me to admit it.

  We fall silent and strangely it’s more comfortable than I was expecting. Valentine’s an outsider too. I don’t know him well enough to know if he’s always been this way, or if his history influenced it; but even though we’re not talking, it’s nice to have someone to be silent with.

  I’m not sure how much time has passed when Griffin barrels over to the truck and leaps up into the back, lifting me up and stealing my spot before dropping me back down into his lap. “Eww, Griff,” I cry, pushing at his hold on me and climbing out of his lap, “You smell like sex and cheap perfume.”

  Griff smiles, his eyes a little glazed. “Ahh the sweet smell of being eighteen.”

  “Gross,” I groan, as Valentine chuckles beside us.

  “Don’t be like that, Em; come cuddle with me,” Griff whines, dropping his arm over my shoulders and pulling me into him.

  “No, eww, I don’t want to smell like that skank you were dry humping.”

  His sigh is loud and so full of exasperation that I have to bite at my lip to stop myself from laughing. Reluctantly, he lifts his arm releasing me and I edge away from him and closer to Valentine.

  “I’m starving. Let’s go find something to eat.” Nova announces, as she prances across the field, Zeke following closely behind her. Skipping the last few steps, she moves straight between Valentine’s legs and into his waiting arms, wrapping herself around him and pressing her cheek against his chest.

  “This party sucks. Let’s go back to ours and order a pizza,” Zeke suggests.

  “I should probably—” I start.

  “Nope,” Griff interrupts me. “You’re coming too, no excuses.”

  “But.”

  “Nope,” Griff says again, jumping down from Valentine’s truck and scooping me over his shoulder before I have a chance to say anything more.

  The others laugh loudly and I glare at them from my upside-down position. They simply smile and follow as he strides purposefully to the cab, opening the door and placing me onto the seat, before climbing in after me. Nova slides in after Griffin, pulling the door closed as Valentine and Zeke get into the front seat.

  “What happened to your shirt?” Nova asks Griffin, and I see he’s removed it, his warm tan skin exposed to the cool night air.

  “Emmy said I smelt like skank,” Griff says with a chuckle.

  “Which skank?” Nova asks, her body swaying a little from side to side.

  “It was either Erica or Rebecca. I can never remember,” Griff replies with an offhanded swish of his hand.

  “Dude, they’re nothing alike. Erica has enormous tits and dark hair, Rebecca’s blonde and tall.” Zeke says, twisting around in his seat.

  Griff shrugs. “Might have been Jill then. Who cares? I only made out with her a little bit.”

  “You’re a pig,” I hiss, shaking my head.

  “No, I’m not,” he insists, draping his arm over me and pulling me into his side. “Don’t be like that, Em. You know I only want you, so none of these other girls even matter. Say the word and I’ll never look in their direction again.”

  The others laugh and I can’t help the chuckle that pulls at the corners of my lips. Griff’s such a joker and tease.

  Everything in Archer’s Creek is close to everything else, so a few minutes later we’re out of the truck and climbing down the stairs into the basement den Auntie Liv and Uncle Echo made for us to hang out in.

  “Pizza’s gonna be here in ten, someone grab some sodas,” Zeke calls.

  Crossing to the refrigerator, I pull out a bunch of sodas and carry them back across the room, placing them on the coffee table in front of the huge sectional couch. Nova is in Valentine’s lap in one corner, so I sit down in the opposite corner, curling my legs beneath me.

  Griff sits down beside me, pulling my legs up and laying them back down over the top of his. “Come snuggle with me, shortcake. I’m lonely,” he whines.

  Rolling my eyes at him, I reach for a can of soda, cracking the ring pull and waiting for the first hiss of air to escape, before lifting it to my lips. Zeke’s messing with the TV, loading a game into the Xbox and collecting controllers. I take a second sip before the can is taken from my fingers and Griffin lowers it to the table.

  “Emmy,” he gripes. “I need my snuggle ration.” Then he looks up at me with puppy dog eyes and Nova gigglesnorts.

  Spinning my head in her direction, I glare at her, but she just smiles back at me unrepentantly, her head resting against Valentine’s chest.

  “You already had snuggles from Jill or whatever her name was,” I chide him.

  “Nuh huh. You promised me you would always be available for snuggles. I’m calling it in,” he says, flashing me a playfully smug look.

  “What the fuck is with all the snuggle talk?” Valentine asks, his brow furrowed.

  Nova giggles then lifts her head. “When Griffin first moved in with Duke, we were what, seven, eight?”

  “My parents had just died,” Griffin interrupts. “One day when I was really sad, Emmy told me that snuggles always made her feel better and that all I had to do was ask and she would snuggle with me until I was happy again,” he says, looking at me expectantly.

  Sighing, I shake my head softly. “But you’re not sad.”

  Griff pouts, dipping his chin until it’s almost touching his chest. “You won’t be my girl, Em. I’m real sad.”

  “God, you’re such a dick,” I hiss, lifting my legs from where they’re draped over his and turning into his waiting arms. He pulls me into his chest and rests his chin against the top of my head, wrapping me in the tightest hug.

  “Dude, that was pathetic,” Zeke says deadpan.

  “Got my snuggles though, didn’t I?” he says, with a low satisfied chuckle.

  The next morning, I’m lying on my bed reading the last chapter of a brilliant book, when my door flies open and Griffin marches in.

  “Okay, I’m here, the epicness can start,” he announces dramatically, throwing his arms out wide as if he’s expecting me to start applauding him or something.

  I glance at him then pointedly turn my attention back to my book. He won’t allow me to ignore him for long, and a smile forms unbidden on my lips as I silently count down in my head.

  5

  4

  3

  2

  1

  The bed lurches as he bounces onto it, jostling me into the air. He uses my distraction to rip my book f
rom my hands and fling it to the other end of the comforter. “Books are boring; let’s go do something,” he moans dramatically.

  Griff and I have always been close, we’re best friends. But since Nova’s illness retightened the bonds I was deliberately loosening, he seems hellbent on making sure I don’t try to distance myself again. “I was reading that,” I say glaring at him and pursing my lips.

  “I know. It must be my psychic vibe that warned me you needed me to come and save you and here I am.”

  “Don’t you have a girl you can go pester? There must be someone in our class you haven’t fucked yet. Maybe you could leave me alone and go track her down?”

  He clutches at his heart and mock gasps. “You wound me. I’ve fucked all the hot ones except you.”

  I roll my eyes so hard they actually hurt. “I’m not hot and I’m never going to fuck you.”

  “You’re right, you’re not hot,” he agrees, nodding.

  My chest pangs. I know I’m nothing special, but hearing him say it in such a blasé way actually hurts.

  “You’re fucking stunning, Em. Above and beyond any of the girls at school,” he says so effortlessly that I’m thrown by the sincerity in his voice.

  My lips part and my mouth falls open.

  Seeing my shock, his brow wrinkles. “What? Don’t act like you don’t know you’re hot, Em. All that fucking hot red hair and banging rack.”

  The crass words help me shake off my surprise at him calling me stunning. He didn’t mean it. He’s just a good friend, a best friend, and he’s being nice. “Why are you here? I thought you and Zeke had football practice.”

 

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