A twinge of regret sparked the guilt inside me at killing at Sonya.
I got that her brother had actually contributed to killing her. I got that. But what I don’t think anyone else understood was the fact that I had ultimately delivered the last blow, therefore, I’d killed her.
I’d killed another fighter and I hadn’t used rabbit punches, kidney or temple shots either.
Stepping on her foot had been low, but I wasn’t aware of anyone else actually dying from that type of move. Just my luck, I’d taken a benign move and gave it cancer.
My barely charged phone buzzed in my pocket where I’d shoved it after Stryker returned it to me.
Who could be texting me? I wasn’t exactly popular and I didn’t have any friends besides Sara sitting by me at the counter. The only other person I could see it being was Blaze with his weird demands and ill-concealed desires.
What would he do if I punched him in the nuts? I had no doubt a move like that would be divinely satisfying.
I pulled out my phone. Before I could read the text, Sara nudged me with her elbow. “Can you help a girl out, here?”
Blinking, I looked at her. “Um, with what?” I flicked my gaze side to side, studying each guy as Sara scoffed. “With what? With the fact that they have a good ole boys’ club and girls can’t get in.” She rolled her eyes as she jerked a thumb toward two-thirds of the Jamesons and the tall man in charge of the stove.
“It’s not a boys only club, per se, it’s more like you have to be worthy to fit in. Most of the time, girls aren’t.” Brock smirked, motioning toward Tiny with a chunk of egg on his fork. “For instance, let’s ask Tiny what he thinks of girls in the military.”
Tiny’s grin slipped and he pushed off the counter, holding his hands at chest level. “Whoa, Brock, don’t bringing me into your misogyny.” The group fell silent, each of us studying Tiny with varying levels of respect, curiosity, and worry.
Sensing we weren’t just randomly curious, Tiny’s face tightened and he returned his hands to the counter, thrumming his fingers in a rhythmless beat. “Women don’t belong in the military.” There was no give in his expression. Was he really the type of man to place double-standards?
My jaw dropped and I cast a sharp glance at Sara. He had to be joking.
“I also don’t think men should be in the military.” He dropped his gaze to the counter and his voice lowered, cracking on a couple syllables. “But if we have to have ridiculous politicians and world leaders with no sense in their heads, I’d rather face the world and our enemies with smart people on either side of me. Men or women, we’ve all had to prove ourselves out there. Some never came back.”
Whether he intended to or not, Tiny’s words pushed my thoughts toward Brock and Stryker’s dads who hadn’t come back. What about Gunner’s dad? Why weren’t we hearing about him more?
Sara slapped a hand beside her plate and then wagged her finger in Tiny’s direction. She shook her head. “I’m not buying it. You and I both know that all of these clubs are just run by men. We can’t get in and do you know why?” She glanced at me; her eyebrow arched high.
I nodded. We’d had that exact conversation more times than I could count and usually centered around my fighting and how hard it was to get into the circle of men. “Yeah, they all have penises and we don’t.” I tilted my head to the side. “Penises? Penices? Peni? What is penis plural?”
Stryker returned to the kitchen area, tucking his own phone back in his rear pants pocket and claiming the stool to my left.
All of the oxygen suddenly left the room and I found myself panting to get fresh air. All of my nerve endings fired and I wished for just one moment where he touched me without underlying expectations or confusing elements surrounding us.
“What’d I miss?” Stryker picked up a piece of ham between his thumb and forefinger and I couldn’t help watching as he lifted the piece of meat to his mouth. He watched me watching him and there was a knowing look in his eyes when I met his gaze with my own.
I shifted on the stool, things suddenly uncomfortable and my body was acutely aware of his. I wasn’t amused.
“Answer a question for us, Stryker. What do you call plural penises?” Gunner leaned forward from his position at the other end of the counter, leaning on his elbow to see his cousin better as well was to take us all in with one glance.
Stryker’s amusement almost stung as he huffed a soft laugh. “Well, when I’m forced to talk about them,” He side-eyed Gunner like he couldn’t believe he was actually being forced to talk about the male part. “I refer to them as dicks.”
“Well, that solves that.” Sara laughed, lifting the glass of milk Tiny sat in front of her.
Where had Stryker disappeared to and why did he keep glancing at me?
“What’s going on?” I couldn’t help but wonder what now? I didn’t soften the tone of my question. I was too worried, too tired, too everything to care if I was also too blunt or too nosy. Since what we did had to do with my survival, I figured what he was up to had everything to do with my business.
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Nothing is going to happen to you.”
I finished my eggs and ham, opting to stay away from the pancakes on my plate. I didn’t want to seem rude, but the fastest way to slip out of a hangover was to back up on the carbs and guzzle as much water as possible.
Milk would even do in a pinch.
My phone buzzed again, clenched in my palm where I’d forgotten about it. Was that going to be my existence as long as I was around Stryker – forgetting everything but him? I wasn’t sure I was up for that. Maybe I could screw him out of my system. I’d heard that worked.
I shoved my plate away, pulling my phone in front of me as I swiped the screen up. Two texts from a number I didn’t recognize sparked my curiosity.
Stryker leaned forward, taking a bite of his breakfast, his eyebrows drawn down as if he were deep in thought.
I pressed on the message icon, tilting my phone away from him discreetly, and stared in disbelief as I read the two consecutive messages.
I have Alex Asher. He wasn’t in the ring. If you want to see him alive again, you’ll get back to Declin and await further orders.
Go alone or things will be more painful for your father than they already are.
I clenched my right hand into a fist, trying to ignore the slight shake in my fingers. My dad was in trouble because of me and my incessant need to… do what? Fight? Seek the release of a well-thrown fist? I didn’t even know why I fought and yet I did it with so much passion, it scared me sometimes.
There was no secret that I hungered for it, thirsted for the crunch of a nose breaking or the burn of a well-landed punch to my face. The pain reminded me I could feel. Hitting things reminded me I had some control. All of which I couldn’t seem to convince myself of since my mom left.
I ran my thumb over the keyboard buttons as I replied.
Is this Sergio? You don’t have to hurt my dad. I’ll get there.
I didn’t add that my battery was close to dead so I might not get the rest of the messages. I also didn’t add the fact that I had no idea where I was or how to get back to Declin. All I knew was I had to get to the highway where the cop chased us so I could get back to Declin.
Someone who might help me, if only to irritate or thwart the Jamesons would be the last person I’d want to ask for help. Yet, I had no doubt I’d call him. I couldn’t involve Sara. I couldn’t ask for more from the Jameson cousins.
There was nothing I could do. I had to text Blaze and ask him for help. As much as that rankled, it was something I could do to help fix what I’d broken.
Somehow, I had to get away. With how closely Stryker watched me, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy.
“Who are you texting?” Stryker leaned to the side; his eyes narrowed as if he worried I gave away our position.
“My dad. I’m just letting him know I’m safe. I didn’t tell him where we are, I promise.” I
lowered the phone so he couldn’t see the phone face. The lie rolled off my tongue with the power of fear keeping it easy and languid. I smiled at him until he turned his sharp silver eyes back to his plate. He didn’t trust me and I didn’t blame him.
Before I could lose my nerve, I pulled up Blaze’s number and texted him.
I need you to drive east away from Declin. Pick me up on the side of the road, when you see me. I need your help. I need to get away from the Jamesons.
He would come. The final line was designed to push him into action. I had no idea how long I had, but it wouldn’t be long enough, if he didn’t get my message.
I never should have worried. Blaze was a douchebag but at least he was predictable. Pissing off the Jameson cousins would make his year. Too bad it would only upset me more.
We finished breakfast and I helped clear and rinse the plates, my mind caught up in coming to terms with what I had to do.
Standing at the sink, I rinsed a plate with hot water, bending to place it in the slots of the dishwasher. Since Mom had left, it fell to me to run things at the house when I was there. Doing the dishes made me feel simpler, more like I was in a normal situation rather than running from the Russians and hiding from the cops.
A heat appeared at my back, the warmth intimidating while also extremely fulfilling. I caught my breath as Stryker’s arms came around me but didn’t touch me. He placed his plate in the sink and braced his hands on either side of my waist on the edge of the counter.
I couldn’t turn to look at him. Not yet. I had to figure out a way to get away from him. I had to save my dad and I couldn’t involve Stryker or his cousins any more than I already had.
“Look at me.” The husky timber of his voice locked me in place and I closed my eyes, hanging my head forward before doing what he asked. Everyone else had moved from the kitchen and dining area to the family room, their soft murmurs barely reaching us around the side of the dividing wall.
As I turned, my hip brushed his lap area and I realized just how aware of me he was. That realization brought my gaze up to his in a jerk as I faced him.
The challenge in his eyes clawed at me from the inside. I couldn’t put him in more danger. Not when he was already on thin ice with the cops. My chest rose and fell, brushing me closer and closer.
An image of me standing in front of him at the school with my breasts brushing his folded arms crossed my mind. What I wouldn’t give for the simplicity of that moment.
I licked my lower lip, the heat in his gaze intensifying as he watched. Something clenched in my stomach. I kind of hoped he’d throw me on the counter and ravage me right there.
Instead, he leaned down, his lips hovering scant inches from my own. His hot breath brushed against mine. “Kiss me, Gray.”
His demand unfurled a ribbon of heat that spread throughout my lower body and then arced up to tremble in my arms and lips. I closed my eyes, suffocating the groan his words brought forth. I wanted to kiss him. Oh hell, I wanted to kiss him more than I wanted to keep breathing. But… not more than I wanted him to keep breathing. Not more than I worried about my dad. Not more than I needed to get free from him.
I couldn’t afford the lust thrusting through me. Neither could Stryker, he just didn’t know it.
Gunner walked around the side of the wall, pausing as he took in our position.
It took a split second to remember Stryker’s anger when I’d kissed Gunner last. Maybe now, with his ardor for me that much stronger, he’d be even more angry – enough to walk away – even if only for a minute. I needed to get away from him so I could save us all.
Playing the role of traitor hurt but I sucked it up. I reached up, pushing Stryker’s arm away and strode toward Gunner, leaving the questions in Stryker’s eyes behind me.
I sashayed my hips as I approached Gunner, not stooping low enough to glance over my shoulder at Stryker. I knew he watched me. I didn’t have to rub it in his face that I knew. Sliding my hands up the back of Gunner’s neck, I pulled his face to mine, tugging against his attempts to see what Stryker thought.
Pressing my lips to his, I could feel his resistance fade as I deepened the kiss. His mouth didn’t fight me, giving in as he took over, bending me over his arm. My hair fell behind me, swaying back as he tilted his head to the side and plunged his tongue past my lips. He was a terrific kisser and as I started to fall into the moment, I was suddenly yanked out of Gunner’s embrace and spun around.
I reached up, touching my swollen lips with my fingertips as I faced Stryker. His thunderous expression not only for me but for his cousin as well. He jerked his chin at Gunner who turned, giving me a wink just before leaving the way he came.
Stryker’s nostrils flared as he crossed his arms across his massive chest.
I didn’t want to but I couldn’t help swallowing. The kiss was a buzz. Gunner took what I wanted and ran with it. Maybe he’d sensed I wanted to make Stryker jealous, or maybe he didn’t mind doing that for himself. I wasn’t sure. Suffice it to say, my plan to piss off the leader of the cousins had worked and I wasn’t sure I felt good about that.
Stryker narrowed his gaze at me, the silver of his eyes like ice. “What game are you playing at, Gray? What do you think you’re doing?”
That was it. A game. I had to push him back, piss him off, all so I could save my dad. And the Jameson boys. I wanted to save everyone. If I wasn’t careful, I wouldn’t be able to save anyone, least of all myself.
I shrugged, tucking my thumbs in my front pockets as I jutted my hip to the side. “You’re a means to an end. I don’t play games and you don’t strike me as the type to play them either. So, let’s just call this what it is.” I dropped my chin and tilted my head to the side as I considered him. “I have a reputation to fix. I’m running from the Russians and the police in Washington. Now, thanks to you, I’m also hiding from the cops in Idaho. There really is nothing else that can go wrong. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Kissing Gunner is going to fix any of that?” A muscle in the angle of his jaw ticked and I realized I had created a pissing contest without really understanding what that meant.
“Kissing Gunner was to let you know, I’ll kiss who I want, when I want. You don’t own me. I don’t have to do what you say.” I pressed my lips together, stopping the outpouring of my words to assuage my guilt. I had nothing to be guilty about. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Not to mention I sounded like a petulant child.
He exhaled through his nose, his lips twisting to the side in wry amusement. “Got it. So, I’m just imagining that you’re feeling the same things I am when you rub your tits on me and you lie in my arms? You’re seriously going to try to convince me of that?” He leaned in, keeping his arms folded. “You’re a liar, Gray Asher. I’m going to prove it.”
The challenge in his eyes made a promise I both looked forward to and feared. I didn’t want to be proven wrong. Or right. All I wanted to do was get away.
He pivoted on his heel, striding away and yanking apart my resolve. I reached my hand out, forcing it to fall back to my side. I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t back down from the path I’d chosen.
Even though I won, I couldn’t help thinking I might have lost more than I could have imagined.
Slipping out the slider door was easier than it should have been. Picking my way through the woods wasn’t too hard and when I broke through the brush to find the highway, I didn’t let myself look back.
I had to save my dad and most likely save my friends. No matter what they wanted to do to me, the Russians couldn’t get their hands on Sara or the Jamesons.
No matter what, I had to believe I’d made the right choice.
I walked west, swinging my arms when I started to doubt what I was doing. Turning myself in for my family was a no brainer. Of course, I’d willingly deal with my actions. It wasn’t Dad’s fault I’d killed someone. As nice as it was that Tiny had shared the information about Sonya’s brother and the condition she’d been in, I’d still been
the one to deliver the final blow. I’d killed her – drugged, beaten, or otherwise.
For once, the weather wasn’t horrible. It wasn’t eighty degrees and sunny, but at that point, I didn’t mind the soft sunlight and the slight breeze.
Maybe I could talk Blaze into stopping by my house so I could change. He’d never been there before and he might be excited about the idea of going into Jameson territory. He didn’t seem to care when the Jamesons wandered onto his turf. Maybe he didn’t care about the whole territory thing.
I seriously had problems figuring out what made the guy tick.
About thirty minutes had passed since I’d texted him and then I could see the silver front of his truck. I climbed out of the ditch, waving my arms from the side of the road and glancing around.
He slowed, pulling to the shoulder and leaning across the bench seat to open the door. As I climbed into his truck, he clenched the steering wheel. “What are you doing clear out here? I thought you were with the Jamesons. At least you were last night.” He glared at me as if the fight was my fault.
I shook my head. “I jumped out of the Jameson truck last night. I was drunk. I didn’t know where I was supposed to be or who I should be with.” I gave him a side smile that made me want to vomit. Why was I simpering to this idiot?
Because I needed a ride back to my place to check on my dad.
Blaze shifted into first, then second, and third as he gathered speed. I clicked my seatbelt, feeling worse and worse the further we got from Tiny’s. We didn’t speak as we barreled down the highway-like road.
A stop sign created a crossroads of sorts and I pointed toward the left which would take us to Jameson. “My house is that way.”
Blaze turned right, ignoring me as I pointed behind us. “I need you to take me to my house, Blaze. What are you doing?” I balled up my fists. I had no problem kicking his ass right there in the truck. It was no skin of my back, if we wrecked. I’d still get out of there.
Her Brawlers: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 2) Page 5