by Bella Jewel
I just can’t do that.
I shake my head, and the feelings that are swirling around in my chest, and then I move back to my room.
It’s nearly time, and I’m not sure I’m ready to face the music yet.
Will I ever be?
Once, I was so sure.
Now, not so much.
8
THEN – COHEN
“Ugh,” Aviana groans next to me. “Cohen, you’re nasty.”
I chuckle and keep my eyes pointed up at the stars. It’s the perfect night, crystal clear and cool, the stars on display for the world to see. Any man in their right mind would have their woman here, fucking her slowly as they lie in the back of the truck. Not me, I’ve got Avi here and we’re drinking and lying on a sea of fucking blankets in the back of my truck, looking up at the stars.
Feels like I’ve known her forever when we’re here like this.
We talk so effortlessly. There is never a moment where we fall into any kind of awkward silence.
Our connection is natural.
The guys would fucking nut me if they saw me here with her like this.
Pussy, among other things, is what I’d be called.
“It ain’t nasty, plenty of people do it!”
“It’s a bumhole!”
I burst out laughing, my ribs aching from the sudden force.
We’re talking about anal sex, of all things. Samantha has been begging me to try it, but so far, I ain’t going there with her. When I told Aviana, she threw a lot of words around about what might be wrong with Samantha and perhaps she needed a therapist.
Fuck she makes me laugh.
She makes me laugh so fucking hard it hurts.
“You clean it first,” I say, through the deep belly laughs still rolling out of my body.
“I don’t care if you soak it in bleach, it’s not made for sex.”
I laugh harder.
She rolls to her side, a huge grin on her face, and slaps my shoulder. “You’re terrible, Cohen, stop laughing at me.”
“I would if you weren’t so fuckin’ funny.”
“Well, you want to tell me that Samantha is requesting anal sex and now I have those images in my brain that I simply cannot get out.”
“What images?”
She scrunches her face. “What if she ... poops on you?”
I laugh again, my abs aching from the feeling. It’s not a feeling I get often, hell, I can’t remember the last time I fucking laughed. All I know is it feels god damned incredible and if I could stay here, as pathetic as it sounds, forever ... I would.
God, I am a fucking pussy.
“She ain’t goin’ to poop on me because I’m not doin’ it with her.”
“With her? Who are you doing it with then?”
“Nobody,” I roar with laughter. “Fuck you’re crazy.”
She giggles. “You’re the crazy one. My god, how many women have you got.”
I wink at her. “Plenty.”
“Poor Samantha.”
I roll back over so I’m facing the stars again. If I keep talking to her, my laughter won’t stop. That’s a good thing, but fuck it hurts.
“She and I ain’t forever.”
Aviana lies on her back again, too. “Well, why are you with her?”
“We’ve been over this.”
“For sex, yes, but it seems like a waste of time.”
“Everyone has relationships that they know aren’t forever. Spose’ you could call them learning curves. You know, they’re what teach you who you want to be and what you want from the person you’re with.”
“Seems unfair.”
“Probably is, but it’s how the world works. We all have a past, people who we learn from, until we find that person and, when we do, we know it’s forever.”
“Your forever person,” she murmurs. “How do you suppose you know they’re forever?”
“Don’t know, I think you just know.”
“Have you ever thought you found your forever person?” she asks me.
I don’t look at her, because if I do she’ll see it in my face. She’ll see that everything in my body is screaming ‘yeah’. When I think of my forever, her face comes into my mind and it scares the hell out of me. I don’t know why it’s there or where it came from, we’re only friends and have only been so for a couple of weeks. How in that time my body has decided she’s the one for me is far fucking beyond my understanding.
It’s like it just knows.
Is that how easy it is? Your body tells you that’s the person, and that’s that?
Fuck me.
“I don’t think so,” I tell her, not willing to do a single thing to risk this friendship, even if it means I never fucking lay my hands on her beautiful body.
“Oh,” she says softly. “Well, that’s good then.”
There is a hint of disappointment in her voice, a hint that makes me want to fucking roll over and kiss her until she understands that I wasn’t telling the truth, that it’s her and fuck being friends.
But I’m not going to do that.
“What about you, found your forever person?”
“I’m not sure,” she answers. “I know I’ve found my forever friend, though.”
I glance at her and she’s staring at me. When our eyes meet, she smiles, and something in my heart fucking explodes.
“Hear ya,” I murmur.
Her smile gets wider. “Well, you can go tell Samantha there will be no bumhole sex today, anyway ...”
I chuckle. “I’ll be sure to pass the message onto her exactly like that.”
She laughs. “It’s so nice out here. How did you find this place?”
We’re at a small stream down a dirt road, thick with trees and wildlife. It’s fucking nice and I come here a lot when I need to think. I stumbled across it one day and, ever since, I’ve come here just to unwind. It’s peaceful, and nobody is ever around.
“I just happened across it,” I tell her. “Liked it so I kept coming back.”
“How many girls have you brought out here and laid in this truck bed with?”
I snort. “None, just you.”
She sits up and looks down at me, her hair falling down to frame her face. She’s fucking perfect under the moonlight and everything in me wants to kiss her, to taste those plump little lips, to feel her soft body beneath mine.
“You’ve never brought anyone else out here?”
“Nope.”
“Why me?”
“Why not you?”
She purses her lips. “You make a good point, I’m just as good as any.”
I laugh. “You’re better than the rest of them, no doubt about it.”
“You think I’m the best girl you know, don’t you, Cohen?”
She’s teasing, her tone light.
“Without a doubt.”
“Well, maybe one day you’ll marry me then.”
I wink at her. “Maybe.”
Yeah, fucking maybe.
I PRESS THE MAN AGAINST the wall, fingers tight around his throat. Drug deal gone wrong, he stole from the club, and now I’m here to collect on his debt. Squirming, he gasps for air as his fingers tighten around my wrists, trying desperately to remove my firm grip on his throat. He knows I’ll kill him, he knows the club will kill him, but he still chose to fucking double cross us anyway.
“You didn’t honestly think you’d get away with stealing from the club, did you?” I growl, squeezing tighter. His face is going blue now, a dark shade of blue that is slowly mixing with red. His eyes are bulging, and he’s got saliva running from his mouth.
“Wasn’t me,” he wheezes. “Cohen, it wasn’t me.”
I release my grip, just a little, enough for him to get a tiny amount of air. “What do you mean it wasn’t fuckin’ you? You had the drugs, you sold the drugs, you disappeared with the cash. Who the fuck else was it?”
“Got mugged ... They took it all.”
My god, he doesn’t think I’m that s
tupid, does he?
My fucking god.
I tighten my grip again—this time he pisses himself.
I can smell the strong scent of urine as he squirms harder and harder.
“How stupid do you think I am?” I snarl.
“Please, I won’t do it again. I fucked up. Had a family to feed ...”
“Blah-blah-fuckin’-blah.”
I squeeze so hard now his breath is cut off. I stand and watch as he fights for the last remaining seconds of his life, and then, with a final gurgle, he goes limp. I hang onto him for a second longer anyway, just to make sure, and then I drop his lifeless body to the ground. Blood trickles out of the corner of his eyes and his face is swollen and blue.
I stare at him for a second longer, then turn and walk away, leaving him in the cold dark alley.
As I round the corner, I catch sight of Aviana’s brother, Manny. He’s standing in the alley with two men, two men I’ve certainly never fucking seen before in my life. They’re doing some sort of deal, that much is obvious from the way they’re whispering and exchanging packages. I step behind a large dumpster bin and watch as they continue to speak, and then, Manny pulls out a gun and, without hesitation, shoots both of them.
Holy fuck.
They drop to the ground with a thud and with a package in his hand, he turns and walks off.
Fuck me.
When he’s gone, I rush over and kneel down, checking through the two dead men’s pockets for anything that might tell me who they are. Whatever I find, I stuff into my jacket and then disappear before anyone sees me. Fucked if I’m going to be done for three murders that occurred in these alleys tonight.
Luckily for us, it’s a dead, fucked up part of town.
People die here all the time.
I get back to my car and only when I’m certain there is no one watching me do I pull out the contents in my pocket. I shuffle through a few wallets, pocket some cash, find some I.D, but it’s a slip of paper in one of the men’s pockets that holds some interesting information. On that slip of paper is Aviana’s name. For a minute, I wonder if maybe they’re talking about a different girl, but when I see her last name, I know it’s her.
All that’s written is her name, an address, and a fucking large sum of money, some offshore account details, and a few other scribbled numbers.
What the fuck are they doin’ with Aviana’s name, and why in the hell did her brother kill them?
Curiosity burns in my chest, and I tuck the information away.
I’m going to find out what she has to do with this, even if I have to do it behind the club’s back.
Whatever it is, I’ll make sure no harm comes to her.
Those fuckers better be very fucking careful.
9
NOW – AVIANA
“Don’t fuckin’ trust her, boss, I’m not ridin’ with her.”
Cohen’s voice is angry and low, his eyes pierce me with an intensity that would make anyone a little less strong squirm. Not me, though. He doesn’t scare me, and his little tantrums aren’t going to bother me, either.
We have a mission, and I’m coming on that mission. Unfortunately, it’s a hell of a drive that’ll take us a week, with stops. Cohen and Samson are the only two who have free space in the truck they’re going in, so that means I’m entrusted to travel with them. It doesn’t both me at all, but Cohen isn’t happy about it, not at all.
He still thinks I’m leading them on a wild goose chase, but I’m not. I’m taking them to what they’re looking for, I’m giving Samson his daughter back, I’m just not sure they understand what else is in store for them when they arrive. I told Alarick to be sure he had a good plan, and I know he does, but what I didn’t tell him is that there are more men there than he could possibly imagine. Even if he picks up Benedict and manages to use him as bait, he’ll never take down the mass production they’ve got going on there, there are simply too many men.
Guilt has started to eat away at me, especially considering I’m growing closer to Waverly and I really like Mykel, Samson and hell, most of them really. The idea of doing something bad to them is starting to make me doubt myself. Maybe there is another way? I mean, surely there is a better revenge plan than to lead them right into a fucking ambush?
I don’t know.
I’m torn between two parts of myself, the part that hates what happened to me because of this club, because of Cohen, but the other part of me knows that I’m going to be risking the lives of many innocent people just to make myself feel better.
I shake the thoughts from my head, the doubt, the guilt.
Nobody had any of those feelings when I was taken away.
Nobody, not even my best friend, came after me and tried to find me.
No, I don’t have any reason to feel guilty about this.
Right?
“Don’t get a choice,” Alarick says, throwing a heap of luggage into the back of Cohen’s truck. “We’re full, and I don’t care if you trust her or not. We’ve got to do this, and that’s pretty much all there is to it.”
“She could be leadin’ us right into the devil’s fuckin’ pen, how do you trust anythin’ that comes out of her mouth?” Cohen growls, his demeanor tense and overpowering.
Alarick stops mid throw of someone’s bag and glances at Cohen. “If she does, I’ll make sure the last five years of her life are nothin’ on what I’ll have in store for her.”
His eyes swing to me when he says that, and something inside my stomach turns. Fear, bitter rage, a whole swirl of emotions I don’t fully understand nor wish to.
“Be too fuckin’ late by then,” Cohen growls, fists clenched now. “I don’t fuckin’ trust her and I think you need to be more fuckin’ careful. She shouldn’t be comin’ with us.”
“You don’t get a choice in that,” I say, before Alarick can answer.
Cohen ignores me.
“Got no other options right now, brother. Understand your hesitation, but we have to get Samson’s girl back, not to mention, we got to fuckin’ finish this. You might not like it, but we are runnin’ out of ideas.”
“Well, at the very least you need someone watchin’ her.”
Alarick grins. “You’re right, I do. You’re on the job.”
Cohen glares at him. I do, too.
“What, no?” I say, shaking my head. “He can’t stand me.”
“Well, then it’ll give you both time to get over your fuckin’ issues. Cohen, you keep an eye on her. If she’s up to no good, I expect you’ll figure it out.”
Cohen shakes his head with utter disgust and turns, getting into the truck and starting it. As the truck idles away next to me, I see Bohdi come out with Merleigh. I haven’t had much to do with the two of them, but I do know that Merleigh was someone the club rescued along with Cova and that Bohdi is only new and still a prospect. The two of them spend a good deal of time together and mostly keep to themselves.
Merleigh is lovely, from the small conversation I’ve had with her. Bohdi I haven’t spoken to, but my god he’s attractive. All surfer biker dude. He has an edge about him, and a darkness so deep, you can see it when he looks at you. His eyes are that of a broken man, and his silence speaks volumes.
I wonder what happened to him.
“Can we squeeze in your truck?” Merleigh asks Cohen as he winds down the window. “Mykel and Waverly are going to take Samson now, so we figure it’ll be best if we come with you.”
“Yeah, get in.”
Bohdi climbs into the front and Merleigh and I get into the back. She flashes a smile at me, and I return it before we hit the road, ready for our first five-hour journey. We’re stopping at a motel tonight, and we’ll do so for the next few days until we reach Benedict. Then, we have the wonderful job of somehow getting hold of him, before continuing on to where we’ll find Dax, Blanche and of course, Uncle Peter.
He has so many answers I need.
Monster.
He always was a monster.
He
never liked me; I was always the outcast. After Mom died, I was the only girl in our direct family, and he made it known that I was worth absolutely nothing to their company and their family. He turned my father against me, and even my brothers refused to give me the time of day. They thought they were better than me, because that’s exactly how my father and Peter wanted it to be.
I was just a thorn in their side.
Yet still, they were the only family I had.
I glance out the window, trying to shake the emotions that are desperately fighting for the surface. I need to push them down, need to remind myself why I’m here. I close my eyes and think of the last five years, of the beatings and the rape, of the life I couldn’t get away from for so long. I think of the people who never came for me, who never checked to see if I was okay, to save me from the hell they placed me in. I think of Cohen, and the friendship he betrayed.
My rage soon overtakes any emotion.
“How are you enjoying being home?”
Merleigh’s soft voice snaps me from my memories, and I turn, facing her. “I won’t be here for long.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Cohen mutters from the front of the truck.
His words hurt, but I’ll never show him that. Instead, I ignore him and keep talking to Merleigh. We talk about how she was sold and how she is enjoying being back. The time flies and I find her really easy to get along with. Before I know it, we’re pulling into the motel and climbing out of the truck.
It’s a hot day, and my clothes feel like they’re sticking to my body as we all unpack our things and separate into rooms. I’ve been placed with Merleigh, thank god, because if I had to share a room with Cohen too, I might just lose it. Instead, he’s sharing a room right next to ours with Bohdi and Samson.
The rooms are old, but cheap. They’re clean, and I suppose that’s all you really need. I unpack enough to get me through the night and then decide I’ll go for a walk and check out the town, maybe find a bar to finish off my afternoon. It’s better than sitting here, knowing good and well that nobody really wants me around.
I get changed, slip some comfortable shoes on, and then leave the room, closing the door behind me. I glance around and decide I’ll just wander about until I find something to do. I like exploring new towns—it’s fun and exciting. When you’ve been locked away for as long as I have, you appreciate the small things, like a park, or gardens, or a fountain.