Hellraiser (The Devil's Own #2) (8 page)

“Jesus,” Meadow whispers. “I’m sorry. Were you there as long as Beast?”

She bobs her head. “Yeah, I was. I mean, I went in when I was three, so Beast was eight already. Both my parents were murdered in their bed with me lying in between them. My mother was the Princess of the Yakuza who ran away from the family business to live a life in America with her American husband—my father. They were ordered to kill all of us, but for some reason, The
Army took me in instead. To this day, I still don’t know if my mom’s family knows.”

“Fucking hell,” I moan. “Sorry, I mean no disrespect, but all of you are kind of messed up in your own sort of ways.” That was a real bitchy thing to say. I’m abusing the fact that Meadow doesn’t know anything about my fucked-up past.

“Melissa!” Meadow snaps at me.

“Oh, what? I didn’t mean it was a bad thing. It obviously made you who you are today. I just mean that you all have something in common. Even with Meadow.”

“Melissa…” Meadow warns.

I feel like shit instantly that I even raised the issue. I internally begin to blame it on the alcohol.

Jada brushes her off before standing. “So, I better head off. I have to pick my son up from school. But I might see you guys later?”

I blink, smiling politely at her. I know I haven’t been very talkative, but I’ve been feeling a little off balance today.

“You have a son?” Meadow asks as Jada throws on her leather jacket. She looks amazing for having a kid. I think I’d use any excuse I could just to eat a ridiculous amount of food—ergo, I’d be a fatty.

“I do. His name’s Garret and he’s a sweet kid.” She smiles.

“How old is he?” Meadow asks and I know exactly where she’s going with this.

“He’s six. You’ll meet him tonight maybe. We live on the north side.”

Yeah, definitely Hella’s kid. Shit.

“You live on the property, too?” Meadow asks with excitement.

She nods her head, pulling her long hair out from behind her jacket. “Yeah, I’ve tried to reason with moving us out, but Hella and Beast will hear nothing of it. I don’t see an issue with it; this way, I know my boy’s safe. All the people who care about him are in this club. Until everything with The
Army and Yakuza are put to rest, we will stay here.”

I remain quiet, uncomfortable for the one hundredth time since I’ve been here. Once we bid farewell to Jada, Meadow turns her attention to me. “She’s nice, huh?”

“Yeah,” I answer, clearing my throat. “She is. Sorry, I wasn’t up for talking much. I’m feeling a little off.”

She takes my drink away and replaces it with her water bottle. “Drink H20 instead. Maybe you’ll feel better.”

Yeah, I don’t think that’s the issue here.

Hella

We pull into the clubhouse just as Jada is walking out with Meadow and Melissa following not far behind. Melissa stops at the exit, leaning against the door frame. Jada walks up to me and pulls me in for a hug.

I nudge my head. “How’s my boy?”

She smiles, pulling her inky black hair behind her ear. “He’s good, but he planned to stay at his friend’s next weekend,” she says, watching me closely.

“That’s my weekend,” I state, eyebrows quirking.

“I know, but he needs to get out, Hella. This,” she waves her hands airily to illustrate her point. “He needs a fucking break from it too, and Brent’s a good kid, comes from a good home, so he’ll be safe.”

“He’s mine, Jada. You run that shit past me before you make plans for him on
my
weekend. I’ll drop him off there to case out the joint.”

“Brax,” she sighs, placing her hand on my arm. “Brent’s dad is a lawyer and his mom is a veterinarian. You can’t roll up there on your big bad motorcycle with your big bad colors on your back. You’ll terrify them and their neighborhood and eventually leave Garret with no friends. I’ll take him.”

She has a point.

“I don’t fucking like it, Jada.”

She sighs again. “I know, I know, but our boy needs friends and a life outside this club.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

She rolls her eyes and I bend down, kissing her lightly on the cheek, cutting off the conversation. She knows the discussion is over, so she continues her trip toward her car. When my eyes dart back up to where Melissa was, I see her spin on her feet and walk back into the clubhouse.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. I turn around just as Jada is about to get into her car. “Did you tell Melissa about Garret?”

Jada pauses, one foot in and one foot out. “Yes, and she knows about our two-time history. She didn’t ask any questions, though.”

That means she doesn’t know whether Garret is mine or not. Don’t fucking care either. If my having a son bothers any woman, she has no place on my dick. Garret may not be mine by blood, but I claimed the little shit the minute Jada gave birth to him in the clubhouse. I shit you not, she went from “I think I’m having Braxton Hicks” to “I need to fucking push”. I had only just Googled what the fuck “Braxton Hicks” meant when she started pushing. Of course I’d share the name that causes women excruciating pain. I smirked to myself at that too. It’s uncanny. All the brothers were there, but Beast and I kicked everyone out before it began to get graphic. We had 911 on the phone talking us through it until the ambulance got there. Could fucking kill Checker, the sperm donor. The fucker is lucky he’s in Australia, that useless cocksucker. Then again, I’m glad he’s a fucking shit stain. Garret is the best thing that ever happened to me and I’d no doubt kill Checker if he came onto my turf; brother or no brother, that kid comes first.

Melissa

When you pour alcohol on an open cut, it cleans it out, sterilizing the wound. It does the same thing when you drink it: cleans you out from the inside, or at least for the duration in which you’re drunk. Why am I not more drunk? I need more sterilization. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out, standing from the barstool and making my way outside where there’s no rowdy bikers laughing or loud rock music playing. I keep thinking back to what I witnessed a few hours earlier between Hella and Jada and have come to the conclusion that I have no right to have an opinion about it. I don’t know enough about their situation. Anyway, what the hell is it to me? Hella and I hate each other. If a man has a kid, that doesn’t bother me; I’ve slept with men who have children—two is my limit, and they have to be separated. Now I’m starting to sound like a hooker with preferences. I’ve reached my verdict: it was just initial shock. I’ve only seen Hella in one light. It’s hard to picture what Jada drew for us as Hella, and again, it’s none of my business. Once I hit the gravel outside, I slide my phone unlocked.

“Hello?” I answer, blocking my other ear with my finger.

“Melissa?”

Millie? “Hey!” I walk towards the old oak tree that sits in the corner of the parking lot. “Everything okay?” Silence. “Millie?” I urge her.

She clears her throat. “Yeah, sorry. I’m good. How are you?”

This is random. I haven’t heard from my sister in years. I can only think that my mom put her up to calling me.

“I’m fine. What brings you to call me, Millie?” I ask, taking a seat on the grass beside the tree stump.

“I—I—I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry, Melissa. I’m sorry for everything.”

Then the line cuts out. I pull my phone away from my ear and stare down at the lit screen where there’s a selfie of Pheobe and me after a Twisted Transistor concert, drunk off our asses watching her man, front row VIP-style, at a completely sold out Madison Square concert.

“The fuck was that about?” I whisper, shaking my head.

“Unexpected phone call?” a voice says, and I look up to find Nyx walking towards me with his hands pushed into his pockets.

My body instantly relaxes because it’s not Hella. But then why would Hella be here talking to me? He’d feed me to the wolves if he had it his way. Then I’d come back leading the pack and tear him from ear to ear.

I smile deviously and Nyx clears his throat, pulling me out of my psychotic daydream. “Sorry, what?” I ask, pushing my phone into my jean pocket.

He laughs, taking a seat beside me and drawing his knees in. “I said, unexpected phone call?”

I shrug. “You could say that.” Peering up at him, I take a good look at Nyx for the first time. I mean, anyone could tell you he’s gorgeous, but as far as I can tell, he’s one of the good ones. His dark hair spikes up naturally above his head and his gentle brown eyes are shaped by thick lashes. He was who I should be attracted to, but unfortunately, little Lissa likes them psycho. Yes, I named my vag, right after I left college. If men can, why can’t women? He keeps watching, waiting for me to continue. I carry on with an eye roll. “My idiot sister.”

He chuckles slightly, leaning back on one elbow. “Ah, I see. Older or younger?”

“Younger, would you believe it. Bitch is crazy. She’s a nun at one of the local Catholic churches back in Detroit, has been a
‘good catholic girl’
for as long as I can remember. Anyway, I haven’t heard from her in around seven years, so I’m confused about the reach out.” I stop when I realize I’m rambling. “Sorry, boring the big bad biker with my life story.”

He smiles. “I’m not that bad, and your life story doesn’t seem all that boring.”

I grin. “You have no idea.”

Melissa

Nyx and I are both lying on our backs and watching the glistening stars from the sky when he tilts his head and it connects softly with mine. “So your dad disappeared when you were little, your mom survived cancer, and your sister is a nun? Your life story is far from boring. How’d you like college? Wish I went. Instead, I ended up on the other side of the law.”

My cheeks hurt from all the smiling I’ve done since Nyx came out to sit with me. The sun’s beginning to go down, displaying veins of orange and yellow hues in the sky. He’s the first person to actually come and spend time with me since I’ve been here, including Meadow because she’s been so caught up in Beast.

However, that question makes my smile drop slightly as it resurfaces old memories.

“Um.” I sit up, drawing my legs in and swiping all my hair to one side. “I guess I would have enjoyed it a bit more if I chose a better college.”

He pushes up, his face turning toward me. “What’d you mean?”

“I mean—“

“—Melissa!” Meadow walks over to us, glancing over her shoulder every two seconds. “What are you doing?” she whispers, looking between me and Nyx and her body stills slightly.

“Just talking,” I reassure her, rising to my feet and swiping the dirt off my bare legs.

Nyx stands, pulling me in for a hug. “I’ll catch you another time, babe.”

“Yeah, thanks for the chat,” I answer sincerely. He smiles before heading back inside.

“Ahem!” Meadow clears her throat and I ignore her, walking towards the clubhouse.

“Melissa! Did you do anything?”

I stop, turning around to face her. “You mean did I
fuck
him? Because I can’t keep my claws off any men, right?”

Her face falls and I feel like shit instantly. Meadow isn’t a catty bitch. She means well in everything. Walking towards her, I wrap my hands around her arms and smile. “I’m sorry. But to answer your question, no I didn’t sleep with him, or kiss him, or even touch him. We just talked, and it was
nice
, Meadow.”

She exhales in relief. “Okay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. It’s just that Beast said Hella has—“

“—Fuck Hella,” I cut in.

“You’re right, fuck Hella,” Meadow agrees and we both start laughing at the ridiculousness of our conversation.

“Fuck Hella?” A deep growl chuckles from behind me and I still, my smile dropping. I look into Meadow’s eyes and she throws a glance over my shoulder before smiling apologetically at me. Hella continues his torment. “Oh baby, all you had to do was ask,” he adds, his voice coming in closer. I close my eyes, my grip on Meadow’s arms tightening slightly. His lips brush lightly over my ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver through me, and my brain short circuits. “But, I don’t double dip, so thanks, but no thanks.” His hand lands on my ass before he carries on toward his stupid red Harley that has the word “Hellraiser” written on it with a shaded skull. I let out a growl and Meadow chuckles lightly. “Oh honey, come on, let’s go. Jada will be waiting.”

***

I’m sipping my margarita through a straw with my eyes trained on the cracks on Jada’s wooden porch when she walks through carrying a platter of cheeses and crackers.

“Deep in thought?” she asks. Meadow follows in behind her, taking a seat beside me.

“You could say that,” I answer, and Meadow shuffles uncomfortably. I know what she’s worried about: whether Jada’s son, Garret, is Hella’s or not. I don’t really care. It’s not like I’m putting all my hopes and dreams in him, but would it shock me? Yes, it would shock me, but then it will also show me that there is another side to Hella under all the macho bravo bullshit he walks around with. My fingers clutch tightly around my glass and Meadow’s laugh breaks through my daydream. Her hands come up and pull my glass down slowly.

“That’s some grip. Maybe you should chill a bit?” she offers.

I smile at Bethy, one of the ladies who’s close to the club, as she walks toward her seat. I lean down to Meadow’s ear and whisper, “You’re making a big deal out of nothing, and that’s not what I’m day dreaming about. The kid? It’s fine. What’s it to me?”

“Well, then, what are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about the night I slept with him,” I answer, my eyes drifting over her shoulder absently as I bring my straw back to my mouth to finish my drink. “I’m thinking I should have ridden his dick with a machete pushed against his throat until blood slightly trickled from beneath his skin.”

“Jesus, Melissa,” Meadow whispers, her eyes bugging out.

“
Now
I’m turned on,” I reply flatly.

Jada walks in carrying wine bottles. “What turns you on?”

My eyes widen. I smile. “Nothing, nothing at all.”

“So, where’s Garret?” Meadow asks, shuffling in her chair. I internally roll my eyes at her digging.

“He’s just washing up. He’ll be down soon no doubt, especially with all the food here. But I’ll be kicking his butt upstairs after that. He has school tomorrow,” Jada adds. Jada is stunning, there’s no doubt about that. With her long black hair and her bright green eyes, put all that on a tight, toned, tanned and tattooed body and you have Jada. She’s intimidating, to say the least, but she’s a nice chick, so I can’t help but get along with her. Finding out about her job while she was in The Army was alarming. Killing in the art of seduction? With a Katana sword? She’s badass, and I won’t be trying to get on her nerves anytime soon.

“I have to ask,” Meadow says, placing her glass back onto the table. My palms sweat and my breath hitches. That’s not from me not wanting to know about Garret being Hella’s kid; that’s from me being completely uncomfortable with the fact that everyone at this table thinks I will care. I’m not shallow in that sense. I wouldn’t cut a man out just because he has a kid, but if he has many kids with different woman? Yes, I’ll have an issue with that.

Meadow throws a curveball. “What’s it like having a child in this life?”

“Just like one big family. Garret loves the guys. He has twelve badass uncles who ride on bikes and carry guns.” She rolls her eyes, popping a few grapes into her mouth.

Meadow smiles, nodding her head. “I notice you said twelve, not eleven?”

And, there it is.

“Hella is Garret’s father. Not by blood, but by choice. He stepped up since day one to take on that roll.”

“So, he’s not his dad?” Meadow clarifies, and I want to melt into my chair. The girl can be relentless.

“No, he is not.” She smiles, taking a sip of her drink. “But he’s the closest thing that Garret has to a dad. He loves him like a son and Garret loves him like a dad. They adore each other, so Hella is very much active in Garret’s life. He even has him on every second weekend.”

I down the rest of my drink and hand my empty glass to Meadow when I see her going for refills. “That’s really sweet,” Meadow replies.

“I feel really sorry for you,” Jada points to me.

I pause, grape clutched in midair. “Me? Why?” I scoff, popping the grape into my mouth followed by a gulp of my new drink.

“Because Hella
wants
you.”

I snicker. “That’s not true. Even if that were, why would you feel sorry for me?”

“Because he’s ruthless when it comes to something he wants. He won’t give up. And what he wants is
you
.” She pauses, retracing her thoughts. “Actually, because it’s Hella, he’ll look at you like a puzzle he wants to rip apart just to sit back and watch as you attempt to put yourself back together. He’d have his dick in his hand watching you while you do it, too.”

“We will kill each other before we fuck each other again,” I murmur.

Jada laughs. “Yeah, I’m sure that would excite him too, and I bet because it’s Hella, he’d make you like it as he fucked you to death.”

I snicker under my breath, lifting my glass to my lips.

“Hey, kid. Come say hello to the girls,” Jada says, waving Garret over as he walks down the stairs.

“Hey.” He looks at Meadow and me quickly before looking back to his mother. “Can I eat now?” he mumbles with a clipped tone, taking a plate and piling it up with food. I smile. He has an attitude like Hella, that’s for sure.

“Garret, that’s Meadow.” She points to Meadow. “She’s uncle B’s old lady.”

Garret pauses his food piling and looks at Meadow. “Uncle B doesn’t want an old lady,” he answers, narrowing his eyes at Meadow suspiciously.

“You might need to take that up with him. Nice to meet you, Garret,” Meadow replies.

He grunts. “Nice to meet you, too.”

The kid actually grunts.

I stand from the table when I see his eyes light up at the sight of the TimTams that Meadow and I brought with us. We get them from Alaina, our other friend who’s from New Zealand. I would live off them if I could.

“Can I show you something?” I say to him, and he nods his head. I pick up the pack of TimTams and tear it open. Taking one out, I hand it to him. “Bite each end of the TimTam
,
and then suck your hot cocoa through the cookie before eating it. It’s heaven in your mouth.”

His eyes narrow. “Are you sure?”

“Trust me. I’m like, the cookie
queen
.”

He laughs at my dry joke, and I think I fall a little bit in love with him. When he takes a bite from the TimTam
,
his eyes pop open, rolling back behind his head. “Oh my God,” he moans. “You’re shitt’n me. Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Garret!” Jada snaps and he apologizes to his mom quickly.

“I’m the cookie queen,” I repeat with a smile, and he gleams at me with new eyes before picking up the packet of cookies and quickly running back upstairs. Jada stands from the table and huffs out, waving her arms up in defeat.

“Fuck it. The kid will just have to get diabetes.”