Kennedy (The Phoenix Club Girl Diaries #1)

by Addison Jane

  I held my breath. Trying to fight the urge to be sick as I carried her back to the sofa and sat down. She curled herself around me, her legs straddling my hips, and her arms wrapping around my neck, pressing herself against me as she struggled to breathe. She wasn’t the only one.

  It wasn’t just that I was being touched or how that made my skin feel, it was fighting the urge to throw her across the room or lose my temper and possibly black out. But I kept fighting it because the longer I managed to fight through the pain, the more the pain seemed to lessen. Either way, I was going to force myself just to harden the fuck up because I wasn’t letting her go. This wasn’t what she was expecting.

  “Why didn’t I just take Brooklyn and run?” she hissed, clinging to me, her face buried in my neck. “Why did I believe everything he told me?”

  “Because you were fucking scared,” Shake answered from across the room. “You were a young kid, and he didn’t give you a choice. Your first instinct was to do whatever the hell you had to do in order to keep Brooklyn safe, so you took option A or fucking B… whatever hell was the one was that kept her out of harm’s way.”

  The room fell into silence. We didn’t really know what to say. The problem with this whole scenario was that we knew Crow was going to come back for Kennedy. He wanted her, and at the time, it seemed like a pretty straightforward reason why—she owed him something.

  Now, though, we knew she didn’t.

  So, why did he want to keep her so badly?

  Or, why did he need her so badly?

  Suddenly, she was pulling back, climbing off my lap with a look on her face which was focused and determined. She got to her feet, but she stayed standing between my legs with her hand out holding onto the edge of my cut—her comfort place—rubbing it softly between her fingers.

  “We need to make sure he doesn’t do this to anyone else,” she announced, looking over at both Shotgun and Shake before returning her eyes to me. “He put me through hell, and that’s exactly where he needs to end up.”

  “We don’t disagree, Kennedy,” Shotgun answered. “But we need to talk to the club about this because things have changed. This isn't just us watching out for you and your sister now. Things are more complicated, and this might be a case of us changing from defense to offense and wiping this sorry excuse for a human the hell out.”

  “I vote yes,” she answered immediately, and Shotgun chuckled.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She looked down at me, the burn from my skin was fading, becoming bearable, but I could still see the pain she was holding. “I won’t let him do this to another girl,” she whispered, her voice not faltered despite the emotions I knew she was struggling to hold.

  “Neither will I,” I agreed. “Neither will fucking I.”

  KENNEDY

  My hands were shaking as I followed the convoy into the large Exiled Eight compound. The gates slid open, they were tall and shiny with thick vertical bars. Unlike at the Brothers by Blood compound, there was no gravel. The expansive area outside was like a parking lot with black top and in certain areas, even parking spaces marked out with white paint.

  I decided to park off to the side away from the line of sparkling chrome Harleys that was more impressive and seemed almost unrealistic lined up in perfect formation.

  Something that the clubhouses did share in common was the giant roller doors they had. But the ones here, they were even bigger, reminding me somewhat of an aircraft hangar and opening the inside of the clubhouse to the elements.

  I climbed out of the car as the boys all walked their bikes into the free spaces at the end of the long line. It was strange, I’d become so comfortable down in Phoenix, but this place was intimidating. It was a lot newer, it was bigger, and I knew they had a lot more members here than the brothers. Not that I should really care because there was only one person here that I cared to see the most.

  “Kenzi!” My sister’s scream pulled my attention back toward the open clubhouse just as she pushed forward and started toward me at sprinting pace. There were tears streaking down her cheeks, and it didn’t take long before she was leaping into my arms and wrapping her legs around me, forcing the both of us backward. Our bodies hit the car with a loud thump but neither of us cared.

  I kept squeezing her, tighter and tighter, the both of us sobbing softly. She buried her face in my neck, and I couldn’t see past the mess of hair flying around her head, but it was nothing.

  She was here.

  She was in my arms.

  That was what mattered right now.

  “Are people looking at us?” she asked softly.

  I giggled. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Fuck them, they can wait.”

  I laughed louder and squeezed her a little tighter before setting her back down on her feet—reluctantly. “You haven’t been a brat while you’ve been here, have you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “I told you to be nice and listen to Huntsman.”

  “Uh… I did, thank you, Miss Accusy-pants.” And there was the seventeen-year-old version of my sister that I didn’t miss. While she could be the most mature person you’ve ever met at times, or when she felt like it, she could also be exactly what she was—a teenager.

  “I haven’t had to tie her up yet, so I’ll count that as a win,” a deep, gravelly voice noted as he approached. I looked up to find Huntsman walking toward us. His thick beard was the giveaway in this case. Meyah had told me all about it, including the things she’d heard from the club girls here that she said almost scarred her for life.

  No exaggeration.

  Brooklyn shrugged. “It’s been okay. Everyone has been pretty cool,” she replied, pulling at her sleeve and then dabbing at the tears on her cheeks before adding quickly, “And Ripley taught me how to shoot a gun.”

  I choked a little on some air, coughing hard a couple of times before I could catch my breath again. “Uh,” I rasped, trying to clear my throat. “Cool?”

  The guys around me all collectively chuckled like it was my shock and surprise that was the out-of-place reaction here. But they were the ones who were still getting to know Brooklyn, and handing her a gun wouldn’t exactly be something I’d be completely willing to do unless you were pretty fucking sure you weren’t going to say a single thing to piss her off during the time she had it in her hand.

  “I’ll grab your bag,” Repo murmured, stepping around behind us and opening the passenger door. He pulled out my backpack, tossing it over one shoulder while carrying his own duffle bag in his hand. Everyone else followed him toward the clubhouse, and I should have too, but I could feel Brooklyn staring at me. It was a questioning look, one that I wish I didn’t have to answer yet.

  “Who is he?”

  I turned to look at her, raising my eyebrow. “You mean, Repo? He’s the guy who started all of this.”

  She still wasn’t satisfied. “Where are you going to sleep tonight?”

  “I don—”

  “Let me rephrase that, with whom are you going to be sleeping tonight?”

  “Brooklyn, stop!” I ordered, narrowing my gaze. “I get that we have a lot to talk about. That a lot of things have changed in a very short amount of time. But you need to remember, these people, they’re on our side, they’re looking after us.”

  “But is that only because you’re fucking one of their men?”

  My mouth fell open. I could hear the slight pinch of pain in her voice like she’d been so excited about our new start, only to suddenly wonder if it was all really that new or if we were just right back where we began five years ago.

  “Your sister is going to sleep wherever the hell she likes, with whoever the hell she wants to,” Repo’s stern tone announced, his heavy footsteps walking back toward us. “Because that’s something she’s free to fucking do, given that no one here owns her or has the right to tell her fucking otherwise.”

  Brooklyn turned to look at him, her lips pursed and biting her tongue. I knew quickly that these two
were either going to smash their heads together or they were going to be best friends. Brooklyn has the tendency just to say it as it is, and while I think Repo admired a certain amount of honesty, he also doesn’t fuck around with disrespect toward the club or himself or people he gave a shit about.

  And sometimes Brook can push all those boundaries to the limit.

  All at once.

  “Then she’s sleeping with me,” Brooklyn announced with a smile, making me roll my eyes.

  While Repo just snorted out a laugh and turned back to the clubhouse. “Glad that’s fucking sorted. Now, I need a drink.”

  My sister hooked her arm through mine, and we walked toward the clubhouse where everyone seemed to already be splashing drinks here and fucking there. She quickly dragged me across the room to where there were some tables set up, and I could see Meyah already sitting and laughing with another girl.

  “Kennedy, this is Dakota, Ripley’s old lady,” Brook announced as we approached the table. The small blonde smiled up at me and held her hand out. I shook it firmly before taking a seat beside Meyah. Brooklyn taking the one opposite.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I told her with a warm smile. “Meyah talks about you all the time.”

  Dakota snorted and looked across at her best friend. “See, you like to pretend like you don’t miss the hell out of me, but you do!”

  Meyah snorted and covered her mouth so only I could see, mouthing ‘she’s crazy.’

  Dakota rolled her eyes, but I could tell her smile was genuine, and the friendship they had was just that kind.

  “Brooklyn’s been keeping all the boys on their toes,” Dakota informed us with a giggle. “I’m not really sure they knew what to do with her, to be honest. For one, you girls are kind of gorgeous, but all the boys knew this one was underage, so she’s innocently coming to breakfast in her PJ’s, that are well…”

  She let the words hang purposefully, and I instantly clicked and turned to Brook, shaking my head. She was trying to hold her hand across her smile and avoided looking me in the eye.

  “That was not innocent,” I groaned, still trying to glare at my little sister while somehow awkwardly apologizing for how she’d made all the members here uncomfortable with her little games. “Damn it, Brook. You couldn’t just… not try to torment the people who are watching out for you.”

  Dakota burst out laughing so hard I was afraid she wouldn’t catch another breath. “Savage. Holy crap! You should’ve seen them all trying to avoid eye contact with her.”

  Meyah was starting to laugh too. She was fighting to keep it contained, knowing that Brook was only being encouraged, but damn.

  “Huntsman didn’t find it so amusing,” Brook announced after a minute, crinkling her nose as if she had bitten a lemon. “So, don’t worry. I helped do the dishes and stuff afterward to make up for it.”

  It sounded like she got what she needed from Huntsman—a little bit of discipline. And not only that, but it sounded like he’d earned her respect, which for a male was really hard because she tended to see them either as a threat or as a knight who was going to rescue her. But I didn’t think he would let her see him as either.

  It had only been the last few months that I’d noticed her trying to push the limits at home. Like with me walking in and catching a half-naked boy in my house. There had been other little things, but for the most part, she was a good kid. She had my back. And even if there were times when she went a little overboard with her attitude, there was nothing like me coming home with a black eye to make her realize she needed to sort her shit out.

  “Church!” Huntsman’s booming voice filled the space.

  The men who were in the room started heading toward a large meeting room off the side of the space we were in. Repo and Shake both headed our way with beers in their hands.

  “Your dad said you can start setting up for the party when we’re done and out of the way,” Shake explained to Meyah, and suddenly I remembered there was another reason we were there, and Huntsman didn’t know about that one little bit of information.

  I felt Repo’s hand on my back as he leaned forward and placed the bottle of beer in front of me. I looked up at him and smiled, my body actually feeling like it could do with something to help me relax at that moment. “Thanks.”

  He nodded, his expression still seeming a little serious. “I’ll see you after we’re done. Stay out of trouble with these lot.”

  He backed away, and I heard some heavy steps jog down the stairs behind us. Rip pressed his lips to Dakota’s head. “We’re heading out for a little bit after this,” he warned her before moving again to follow the boys.

  “Rip, I have to help Meyah set up.”

  He just shrugged and grinned back at her, not for a second acknowledging the dilemma.

  “Rip!”

  The three boys disappeared into the massive room, and we watched them taking seats before the curtains were snapped closed.

  “He’ll have you back in time,” Meyah laughed, brushing it off like it was nothing.

  “We’ll see. Anyway, we have business to attend to as well,” Dakota announced. “Let’s blow up balloons.”

  REPO

  “What are we working with here?” Huntsman asked, sitting at the head of the table.

  We’d kept the meeting pretty small, just a handful of boys from Huntsman’s club in with us, the rest out working their asses off. Technically, this situation didn’t need approval or acknowledgment from the entire club for a few reasons.

  One being that we weren’t actively going to war. They were just helping us out.

  Keeping a piece of property safe—not that I’d ever call Kennedy or Brooklyn that, but it was the easiest way to explain it.

  When Huntsman sent a man to get Brooklyn, she was a package that needed picking up for me. They were doing me a favor, one that I’d happily repay one day when the time came.

  “The short story is that Crow had Kennedy emotionally, mentally, and physically manipulated into thinking he fucking owned her,” I explained, my hand clenching into a fist as it sat on the oversized table. The fucking thing was so big that if someone put something in the center, you’d have to actually climb onto the table to get to it. “All because of these fucking lies he told her about their dad.”

  “What lies?”

  I pulled the papers that I’d inspected last night from my back pocket and slid them across the table.

  “Basically, their dad somehow got mixed up with Red Riot and told them he would do their dirty work and hide their money in different places so it couldn’t come back on them,” I explained, watching Huntsman squint as he attempted to read what was on the paper. Man, the guy was scary as hell, could shoot better than any fucker in this room, but suddenly just looked like a normal guy who needed his glasses to read the newspaper. “I don’t know what happened, if some kind of deal went bad or what, but Crow showed up on the girls’ doorstep ranting about how their dad had done a runner with all of his money and now he was looking for compensation.”

  The guys all around the table looked disgusted.

  “But he hadn’t,” Shotgun added after a few seconds. “When Wrench got the info, he checked to see if there were any deaths around that time that were still looking for an identity. And what do you know?”

  “A match,” Huntsman groaned, shaking his head as he flipped over the death records, shaking his head. “So what’s the asshole’s motive? This is a lot of fucking effort to go through just for two pretty girls.”

  I nodded in agreement. “He was gonna fight for her. I swear if he thought there had been any chance he could have won, he would have fought fucking tooth and nail for her.”

  “Yet,” Ripley interrupted. “He seems far more interested now in Brooklyn. We know every bastard who lives out in these parts of town, and there has been one new car, with two guys in it driving past at least once an hour since she got here.”

  He was right, none of it made any fucking sense.
<
br />   Maybe the fucker was just too lazy to send people all the way back down to Phoenix. Or maybe he was too scared knowing that Shotgun wasn’t fucking around when he told them to fuck off and not come back.

  “We still have no fucking idea what his motive is,” I growled, annoyed by the fact we were still so in the dark even after getting the kind of information that had Wrench found. “We appreciate your help in all this, though. I know Rylan got hurt in the process.”

  “How’s he doing?” Shotgun asked, leaning in. It was never nice when someone got hurt, especially given it was a run that he was sent on for us, not even for his own club.

  Huntsman seemed to grin, though, and shake his head. “He took a shot to the shoulder. But I think it was the knee to his balls that was the most painful when your girl’s little sister found out he only did the run for me in exchange for his prospect patch.”

  I winced. “Ouch.”

  “Yup, the two of them shared an intense few hours as he was trying to get her out of there,” he explained, shaking his head. Kid got hurt and couldn’t ride, so they had to hide out for a few hours until we could safely get a couple of guys to them.”

  “Sounds like he earned his colors,” Shake concurred.

  Ripley chuckled, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. “From what Brooklyn told Dakota, it sounds like he earned the knee in his balls, too.”

  I think almost every single guy sitting around that table all cringed at the same time, squeezing their legs together as if they could imagine the pain. Because we fucking could.

  “So you plan to take them both back to Phoenix?” Huntsman asked curiously.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what else to do. There’s no way they’re gonna wanna be separated again. The one solid thing they’ve had for years is each other,” I explained. “And honestly, if things are headed the way I want them to be headed, I need Brooklyn to be happy in Phoenix.”