by Addison Jane
“Kenz…” I started, tapping my foot. “You gave her everything she needed and more. Nobody could love her as you can.”
“And what about now?” she challenged, twisting her body to face me in the tiny space. “I dragged her from one biker compound to another. She’s being bullied at school. She’s opening boxes with bloody body parts inside. And now she wants to get the hell away from me.”
“Stop!”
The light coming up switched to orange, and I moved my foot to the break.
My heart was racing, my skin tingling because I was listening to this woman, this beautiful, incredible, courageous woman question whether she’d done enough. “Stop that right now,” I snapped, trying to glare at her and letting her know how stupid that shit sounds, while also focusing on the road in front of me, so I didn’t cause a damn accident or give one of the boys a little tap. “When she couldn’t make her own decisions, you made them for her. And you made the best fucking decisions you could at the time.”
The car was practically silent for a few seconds, except for the steady hum of the motors around us and the soft tinkle of the radio playing in the background. She was listening, finally shutting her damn irrational brain out.
“And now she’s old enough, she gets to make those decisions for herself,” I continued. “Forcing her to stay would be a mistake, but you aren’t doing that. You’re supporting her taking this new journey on her own, and that’s exactly what you’ve always done. Supported her and loved her no matter fucking what.”
The light flicked to green, and I slowly pressed down on the accelerator of Kennedy’s car.
“I missed you.”
The frustrated frown on my face slowly evaporated, and I laughed. “I missed you, too.”
“No. I really did.” Her voice cracked. “You always kept me sane. Always pushed me through the mud when I felt like letting it suck me in.”
My head shook back and forth. “No. You made it because of you.”
The sharp snort that flew out of her nose made me jump.
“I got one thing to say… Zombie stripper.”
“Dammit!”
I looked up from my makeup mirror, catching a glimpse of Kennedy’s face.
“What the hell…” My eyeshadow palette slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the vanity before I spun my chair around. “You’re getting on stage in ten fucking minutes.” I rushed into the bathroom and grabbed some wipes.
She was slumped in a chair when I got out, blood dripping from a swollen lip, her eye black and blue, a cut through her eyebrow and some hand marks around her neck. He’d beaten the fuck out of her, and I already knew who without asking.
And while the men who frequented this hellhole had serious mental problems, they weren’t going to throw money for a bitch who looked like she was five minutes from death. Which meant if she went out there like this, she’d likely be booed off the fucking stage.
No dance meant no money for the night.
And to top things off, Crow would have a reason to take her for another round.
He fucking knew that too.
“I need to get out there,” Kennedy mumbled as I dabbed at her lip that wouldn’t stop bleeding. “It’s the middle of winter, and if I don’t pay the power bill, they’re gonna cut it, and we’re gonna freeze.”
This was how we lived.
Or I guess, survived.
There wasn’t much living done.
If we didn’t make enough in a night’s work, we didn’t eat, we didn’t have heating, and we didn’t have water. That was the harsh reality. And on top of that, Kennedy had a younger sister to support. A teenage girl who, after losing two parents and having to watch her sister come home beaten and raped daily, deserved some kind of fucking normality.
Like food.
And the ability to shower.
Or just fucking watch television.
“Okay,” I said, turning back and snatching my palate off the vanity. The dark colors would be perfect. My whole idea for the night had been to go dark and creepy, to play into Halloween, which was only a few nights away. But instead, it was all going on Kennedy. “You’re gonna get on stage.”
“Looking like this?” she deadpanned, her eyes already completely defeated.
“No,” I told her, hooking my finger under her chin and lifting her gaze. “You’re going to be a sexy zombie.”
She blinked, the tears that had been barely balancing on the edge of her lashes now falling to her cheeks. “A sexy zombie?”
“We add some fake cuts, play up the bruising a little, leave the blood,” I explained, smiling down at my best friend, the woman who inspired me every damn day to fight through. The woman I would do anything to protect. “And you go out there and kill it, sexy zombie stripper style.”
A tired laugh burst from her lips, and she shook her head. “This is our life.”
I smiled through the pain in my chest. “Yeah, but at least we get free tequila shots?”
“So, I can pull some shit out of my ass in stressful situations,” I answered with a shrug. “That doesn’t make me awesome, it simply makes me full of crap.”
Kennedy chuckled, leaning her head back against the headrest and closing her eyes. “It doesn’t matter now, right? We made it out. You’re going back to school. Repo said he’d pay for Brook to attend any private school she wants. And I really, actually, kind of enjoy working for the club and pouring drinks. It’s simple. I like simple.”
After everything she’d been through, I wasn’t surprised.
She and Repo had the kind of relationship so many people search their entire lifetime for. He was her perfect fit.
Some weird kind of biker fairy tale.
“Can I ask you something?”
My stomach instantly twisted into one giant knot, and unconsciously, I felt myself beginning to form those lies on the tip of my tongue, my natural instinct to always be prepared with something to fight suspicion, to protect myself.
She knows the truth.
You don’t have to hide anything anymore.
My shoulders slumped, but I still fought the way my grip tightened nervously on the steering wheel, awkwardly clearing my throat to try and relieve some of the attention. “Can it be like, what is my favorite ice cream? ‘Cause these complicated conversations are really draining.”
“You ever wish that bus had never stopped in Utah?”
“No.” I didn’t expect the answer to be so instant or for my voice to sound so sure. “Never.”
“Why not?” I sat a little taller, Brook’s voice coming from the backseat pulling my eyes to the rearview mirror. “Why wouldn’t you want to change something that caused you so much pain?”
“Why would I want to change something that gave me so much more than that?” I threw back, my brow pinching together.
Brook didn’t respond. Her gaze was glassy, welling with tears, and I knew she hadn’t been asleep. She’d been listening, and maybe that was a good thing. Maybe she needed to hear Kennedy’s pain. Maybe she needed to understand how our choices can and had impacted others. Because she was about to make a huge choice, and my gut was telling me it wasn’t a great one.
That she was running from something.
And I was all too aware of how that was going to turn out.
I just hoped she heard me.
MYTH
We’d barely been at the hotel for an hour before my body got itchy, and I needed to run.
Laken didn’t blink twice as I suddenly ducked out, just waving at me over her shoulder as she curled up on the sofa and flicked through the television channels.
I’d watch my brothers find old ladies, but I’d never had the urge to take one before. I wasn’t sure how it would work or what it would look like given that most days I kept myself so fucking busy, I barely had time to eat or breathe.
Laken was different, though.
She didn’t demand attention—she wasn’t in my face.
Because she understood
the need I had for space, for time to breathe. She fucking got it, she understood the side of me a lot of people just wrote off as a flaw. She wasn’t scared of being burned by this fire that raged inside me because she knew I’d burn down the world around her before I’d let it touch her.
And that was almost enough to have me turn the fuck around and drag her to the bedroom like I’d been itching to do the whole ride here.
Almost.
There was time, though.
The night air was fucking hot as I stepped out of the hotel and onto the street. Not fucking ideal, but I’d take it. In the cooler morning air was my favorite time to run. The sun would start to peak at the top of the skyline. There were no people, no hustle and bustle, no distractions from the mission ahead.
It was simple.
Head down, music on, pushing my body to its limits.
Then when I reached that wall, push some more.
Running hadn’t always been my favorite way to work out. It took time and practice and more fucking practice—hours and fucking hours of pounding your feet into the pavement, finding the right rhythm and breathing. And fighting tooth and nail with your body as you tried to convince it to run a mile more when it simply wanted to curl up in a ball in the corner and cry.
But it had its purpose.
There was no technique needed. No game plan. No head games.
It was simple.
And it was simple I often craved.
We’d found a hotel in Santa Monica, out of the city but a few blocks from the beach. It had small apartments, security, a large gym, and somewhere to lock up our rides. That, and the girls were determined to take every advantage of being close to a beach.
I ran for as long as I could enjoying the ocean air as I made my way along the boardwalk and past Santa Monica pier, trying not to get frustrated as the crowds strolled leisurely. The heat was intense at this hour of the day. But given I was so accustomed to Phoenix heat now, it managed to drive my body a little further than I thought I’d be able to, pushing myself past the point of exhaustion. Then when I thought I was going to vomit, I finally gave in and made my way back to the hotel, trying not to pass out on the way. That’s one thing I make sure those boys who train with me know—I don’t just set them these ridiculous expectations and hope they hit them.
I push them like I push myself.
The doorman nodded as I ducked past. Jogging through the dark hotel lobby to the staircase I took the couple of flights up to the hotel gym to finish the rest of my workout. I wanted time to go back up to my room and climb back into bed with my woman.
My woman?
The words didn’t sound so fucking scary.
I shoved the doors to the gym open, my attention instantly being drawn to the one other person in the room, and the familiar thwack of fists against a punching bag.
Of course, he was going to find out where we were staying and show up.
“Thought you gave up,” I called, making my way toward the lockers where I’d left my bag before I’d gone out for a run. I tugged at the zipper, pulling out my strapping before slamming the locker shut and going to work on my hands.
Casen paused, catching the swinging bag he’d just been beating on, his chest rising and falling dramatically. “I could say the same about you.”
“I didn’t give up,” I corrected dryly. “I got kicked out.”
I wasn’t ashamed of that part of my past, despite the fact things could have been a lot different.
The call that my brothers had found my sister and she was fine had come in just minutes before the fight was meant to start. I could have gotten in the ring, beaten the shit out of the bastard, and won the fight at the same time. Instead, I walked from my locker room to his and I beat him to within an inch of his life.
Why?
Because I didn’t give a flying fuck about the fight. This wasn’t about that, it was about a man who had taken my goddamn family and tried to hurt them to try to bend me to their will, and like hell, I was going to let a referee dictate how the hell I was going to punish the bastard.
“I would have done the same had it been Leah.”
I snorted, my eyes following the tape as I wrapped it over and around and through, the process almost automatic. “First of all, she’s not Leah anymore.” I could practically hear him grind his teeth. “Secondly, your dad beat on her for years, and you and Atlas didn’t do fucking shit.”
Most guys would probably try and play nice with their girlfriend’s brothers.
Unfortunately for Laken, I wasn’t most guys.
If he wanted to talk shit and act all innocent, I was going to fucking call him on it.
“We weren’t living at home,” he snapped, the sound of Velcro being torn and heavy footsteps against the wooden floors letting me know he was probably about to throw down his gloves and get in my face. “I didn’t know what the fuck was going on.”
“That’s bullshit,” I growled, sticking down the end of the strap and finally giving him my attention. “When he hit her that first time, you should have gotten her the hell out of there. But you didn’t because you were too eager to please fucking daddy to give a shit about how miserable your sister was.”
“You don’t fucking know me.”
“No, but I know her,” I roared, stepping forward and meeting him halfway. “She’d just lost the most important person in her life, the one person she was holding onto for some kind of support, some kind of real love. And the people who were meant to have her back when she needed them, they left her out in the damn cold.”
He swung.
I knew he would, so I was prepared and ducked before it could connect. In the same movement, I plowed my fist up into his gut, catching right underneath his ribs and forcing the air from his lungs.
He stumbled back, curled in on himself, groaning in pain and shaking his head. “Motherfucker,” he cursed, coughing and choking as he tried to suck in a steady breath.
Maybe I should have let him connect.
Maybe I deserved it? In his mind, I was taking his sister.
The sister he assumed was dead just last week.
“This is fucked-up, right?”
Casen choked on a laugh. “Yeah. It’s fucked-up,” he croaked out as he shuffled over to a bench and dropped his body onto it with a hard thump. Each breath seemed like it was coming a little easier, the pained look on his face evening out slightly. “She wasn’t the only one who felt broken after Mom died, you know. We needed her.”
The room was quiet.
I braced my shoulder against the wall, leaning into it. “The hell was a woman like your mom doing with a man like Trenton Clarke?”
Lake’s mom had been an actress since she was in her early teens. She grew up in the spotlight, she should have been the perfect fit for a narcissistic asshole like Clarke, who liked the sound of his own voice and thought his farts smelled like freshly baked cookies.
Except she was quite the opposite.
“That would be my doing,” he answered, a sharp laugh breaking the tension in the room when he looked up and saw the confusion plastered all over my face. “I was the ‘oops’ baby.”
Click.
“Mom’s family told her it would ruin her career if they didn’t marry, and Dad paid off the court clerk so they would backdate the marriage certificate to before I was conceived, so it looked like I was completely planned.” Puzzle pieces were beginning to fall into place, but the picture they were creating wasn’t fucking looking good. “It was a marriage of convenience, but my mom just wanted to be a mom, which didn’t work for Dad’s big plans of world domination.”
I wasn’t sure what tell him, so I stayed silent, giving him his chance to have his say.
“Mom ‘n Dad’s relationship was rocky just before she got sick,” he explained, letting his elbows rest on his knees and interlocking his fingers. “I heard them arguing one night, talking about how she wanted to leave the spotlight behind for a while, that the world didn’t n
eed to know the truth, but she needed to step back. Atlas and I were older, we’d already started our own lives, but Le… Laken was only eleven or so. Mom wanted to take her, get her away from this shit show. The two of them could have walked away, lived differently.”
The more I listened, the more my attention was piqued.
It was starting to sound like she was preparing to do a runner and get herself and Lake the hell away from Trenton. Unfortunately, she got sick before she could run.
Coincidence.
Or maybe not.
Maybe I needed to make a few phone calls.
It would be handy to have something in my back pocket, something to use on the off-chance Trenton was just as fucking stupid as I thought he was, and he decided to come back for Laken.
Suddenly my workout was placed on hold, and I turned back to my locker, my mind racing, my body itching to expel some of this built-up energy, but first, I needed to make a phone call.
My fingers had barely brushed over my cell phone when it began to vibrate, the screen lighting up with a name that brought a smile to my face, but at the same time unconsciously sent my eyes rolling. I snatched it from the locker shelf and swiped across the answer button. “Yeah.”
“I have to find out that you’re in town by watching the news.”
I snorted, tucking my phone into my shoulder and working the tape back off my hands. I knew I wasn’t going to get any-fucking-thing done now. My mind was too wired with questions, and no amount of beating the shit out of anything was going to bring it back down to earth until I started a process to figure shit out. “You don’t watch the news.”
He cleared his throat. “So, I had to find out you’re in town from my assistant who watches the news.”
“We’re trying to stay low,” I told my little brother with a heavy sigh.
“Same,” he quickly fired back. “I’ve hired out The Reign Bar in Hollywood on Friday night for my birthday.”
“It’s not your birthday.”
“Did I say birthday? I meant un-birthday,” he corrected unconvincingly. “I’m only in town for a few days, I’ve got a tour starting in New York next weekend.”