Thrash (11 page)

Sneaking out of the crowd,
Chel strides over to me. Her bright red hair needs to be redone,
and her makeup is a little frazzled. She’s wearing velour sweat
pants and a tight baby doll tee shirt, but her make-up is in full
force. Glittery silver eye shadow, pink lipstick, and heavy black
eyeliner. Reaching out with her perfectly manicured nails, she
grabs my hands and pulls me toward the crowd. “Finally,” she says.
“Now go break it up.”

I stop dead in my tracks and give her a
wide-eyed and weary look. Surely she’s joking about me getting in
the middle of this. “Oh, hell no,” I say.

“
They are fighting over
you,” she says, “And since you were too damn slow to answer your
phone the first time I called, this little tiff got out of control.
So, break.it.up.”

I pull my hand away and shake my head.
“Fuck that,” I say. Suddenly, I feel like such a dumbass for being
here. I shouldn’t have reacted like I did—racing down the street
and beelining it here like there’s no tomorrow. I should have just
figured out what was going on. Had she told me they were having a
pissing contest and had decided to drag me into it, I would have
done my grocery shopping like I planned and let them sort this shit
out on their own.

“
No, seriously. Diesel
made me text you to get here ASAP, and then he started talking some
shit about Duke and disrespect, and then Chief jumped in and backed
Diesel up. Duke doesn’t dare get in Chief’s face, so he got in
Diesel’s instead. So please, go break it up.”

“
You are out of your damn
mind if you think I’m getting involved with this. Besides, it’s not
like they’re going to listen to me anyway,” I say. Truly. It’s not
like any member of Forsaken has ever listened to a Lost Girl. We’re
here for show and for fun. We’re not here for our brain power or
our diplomacy skills.

Parting from the crowd is
Grady, the club’s Sergeant at Arms. He’s the lead enforcer of the
club, and he’s probably the last of the men I’d be inclined to piss
off. As President, Jim may hold more sway over the club, but it’s
Grady who has the tenacity and position to take matters into his
own hands when it’s in the best interest of the club. He’s a mean
son of a bitch when he means business, but I’ve seen him with his
daughter a few times. It’s times like that, where he’s soft and
sweet with her, that make me think that if Grady, who they call
Bloody Knuckles, can be gentle, then maybe they all can with the
right person.

Grady’s somewhere between
Jim and Ryan’s ages. He’s seasoned, but not exactly old, and he
certainly doesn’t carry himself with that youthful arrogance that
the younger members have. His chestnut brown hair is tucked behind
his ears, and his green eyes narrow as he approaches. Placing his
hands on his hips he looks me over and says, “You cause
this?”

“
Fuck if I know,” I say
and meet his eyes.

“
I break this up, you talk
it out with Duke. I don’t want you pitting brother on brother
again.”

“
Yeah,” I say. My eyes
slide over to find Jeremy, but Chel is partially blocking my
view.

“
You Duke’s girl?” he
asks. His deep voice practically vibrates with every word he bites
out. The second his tone changes from grouchy to pissed—for no
reason I can figure out—Chel backs up and wanders off. I’m about to
answer Grady when I see Jeremy leaning up against a bike. My heart
spasms at the sight, and my entire body tenses up. I imagine this
is what being electrocuted feels like. Touching one of the
brothers’ bikes is a big fucking no-no, and that’s an
understatement. I can’t tell whose bike it is, but it doesn’t
really matter. Nobody—not even Chief—will let this kind of offense
go. He’s watching the fight from the back of the crowd and nobody
is paying attention to him so far. Though he wears a bored
expression on his face, I know he’s really excited as shit that
he’s here. That excitement is going to wear off the minute somebody
sees how fucking stupid he is. I want to scream at him—maybe even
slap him—and tell him to get off the bike, but I don’t dare while
Grady’s talking to me. If I think Diesel can be mean, then Grady is
one fucked up bastard.

“
I don’t know,” I say, and
cross my arms over my chest. “It’s complicated.”

Grady nods and gives me a questioning
glance before turning back around and pushing his way through the
crowd. Just as I see his brown hair making progress, the crowd
shifts and sways. Hoots and hollers come from the entire circle and
beer bottles are raised in excitement. Grunts and groans followed
by muted sounds of skin hitting skin reverberate off the
crowd.

On my way toward the crowd, I catch
Jeremy’s attention. I signal for him to get off the bike and shake
my head with the coldest expression on my face that I can manage.
He nods his head and lifts off the Harley, then takes a step
forward. Disaster averted.

Chel points to the picnic table just
behind Jeremy and the bike he stupidly used as a perch, before
rushing over and climbing on top of it. I rush over and follow
suit.

I can see what’s going on much better
from up here. Duke and Diesel both stand in a fighter’s stance.
They hop around and then one of them swings, the other blocks, and
then the process is repeated. Finally, Duke throws his arms down at
his sides and screams at the top of his lungs and barrels forward.
Just as he reaches Diesel, he reaches his arms out, grabs a hold of
Diesel’s head and slams his forehead into Diesel’s nose.
Instinctively, I cover my nose with my hand. Out of sympathy, my
nose pounds in my face.

I hate what I’m seeing, but I can’t
look away. Blood sprays from Diesel’s nose as he wipes it off and
then pulls back and slams his fist into the side of Duke’s face. As
Diesel out-manuevers Duke, he manages to take advantage of the
situation and slams a few good blows to Duke’s face before tackling
him to the ground and slamming his head into the concrete. From
what I can tell, Duke started it, but this is horrible. I don’t
even realize I’m screaming until the crowd stops and Chel shakes my
shoulders from behind. As I come to my senses, I realize my hands
are over my mouth and I’m freaking out to the point where
everybody’s noticed—including Duke and Diesel. I move to the edge
of the table, but Chel grabs my arms and says, “No, it’s too
dangerous. They’re way too charged for you to run into that. You
could have stopped this shit.”

“
His head,” I say, looking
down at Duke whose head is twisted, his eyes on me. “Diesel could
have hurt him.”

“
Christ,” Chel mutters and
keeps hold of me. “You used to live for this shit.”

Grady doesn’t waste any
time. He strides through the crowd and grabs Diesel by the
shoulders and pulls him off of Duke, then pulls Duke off the
ground. Chief holds Diesel back, and Ryan takes control of Duke.
Neither man gives up much of a fight, but they do shrug off Grady’s
intervention. Their shoulders heave in anger, and they walk in
circles on the inside of the crowd.

“
Are you two fucking
idiots done yet?” Grady asks as he looks between the two men. Each
gives a non-committal grunt and mutters words of discontent under
his breath. “Good. Sort out whose dick is bigger, and we’ll let the
winner fuck Trigger in the ass for starting this whole
mess.”

My attention snaps from
Grady to Duke, who’s holding the back of his head with one hand. He
keeps removing it to check for blood and then putting it back. I
shove Chel off of me and climb off the table, ready to push through
the crowd. By the time I get there, the crowd of people has moved
out of my way. I don’t even have a chance to throw up an elbow. In
the center of the crowd, Duke stands with his head down. I don’t
even think about it as my feet carry me over to him.

Stopping a foot away, I
stand awkwardly, unsure what I should be doing. In the back of my
head I think I want to tell him that we’re done, but I can’t quite
bring myself to feel the words. At least, I know I should. But then
he lifts his head, and the way he looks, so sullen with his mouth
turned downward and his eyes empty, I can’t bring myself to hate
him, even though I want to.

“
Gonna
pick a fight?” he snaps. I flinch, realizing what Chel meant about
them being charged, then narrow my eyes. I take a deep breath and
remind myself of the talk Diesel and I had last
night.
Not in public.

“
We need to talk,” I say.
He waits a moment before nodding his head and reaching out for me
with his arm. I take the step forward and welcome the way he wraps
his arm around my waist, holding me close. The crowd scatters now
that the fun is over, and the few people who hang around seem to be
primarily on-hand on case shit starts up again.

We turn to walk into the
clubhouse when Duke’s eyes catch sight of something near the picnic
table. I follow his gaze, and my stomach feels like a thousand
butterflies are let loose at once. Directly in the line of Duke’s
sight is Jeremy. He’s leaning up against that same fucking bike
again, which I now recognize as Duke’s. He’s locked eyes with Duke,
and his shoulders are straight. He’s always trying to prove how
tough he is at school, and he’s always trying to show me how he can
be the man of the house at home. And now here in front of the club
he’s trying to be the man he thinks he’s already become. But he’s
not, and suddenly I’m horrified for a whole new reason.

“
Are you on my fucking
bike?” Duke asks. He removes his arm from my waist and rolls his
shoulders as he strides toward Jeremy, leaving me behind. I scurry
to catch up with Duke, but it’s too late. He’s already reached my
asshat brother, who has his chin stuck up in the air like he’s an
O.G. or something. Idiot.

“
I like the paint job,”
Jeremy says, giving the gas tank a pat. The air is forcibly sucked
out of my lungs, and the entire world disappears with the exception
of Duke and Jeremy.

“
Off,” Duke says, hitching
his thumb backward. “Before I break your fucking
kneecaps.”

“
Chill,” Jeremy says and
gives Duke an incredulous look. As he pushes off the bike, a
grating, scratching sound sends a shiver down my spine. I don’t
move a muscle, nor do I take in a breath. Very slowly, Duke moves
toward his bike and shoves Jeremy to the side. Before I can react,
Duke’s got Jeremy by the collar of his tee shirt, and he’s holding
him so they stand nose to nose.

“
You scratched,” he says
very slowly, “my bike.”

“
Sorry?” Jeremy says in a
casual way, like it’s a question he doesn’t really care about.
Before Dad went away, he tried to teach Jeremy what it means to be
a man, and part of that lesson was to never back down. Only bitches
back down, and no son of his is a bitch. Actually, no daughter of
his is to back down, either. But Dad isn’t 5’5” and barely a buck
twenty. When you’re my size and going up against someone Duke’s
size, it’s totally okay to back down and plead for mercy. It might
even be okay to beg, I think. But does Jeremy do any of those
things?

No.

He smirks.

He fucking smirks.

“
You’re going to pay for
this, shithead,” Duke says and shoves Jeremy away. The second I see
the opening, I stand in front of my brother and stare up at Duke.
He grits his teeth and, with rage in his eyes, says,
“Move.”

Knowing that this could turn out to be
a very bad idea, I take a step closer to Duke and place my hand on
his chest. Leaning in, I say, “Please, we need to check your
head.”

Duke shakes his head and pushes
slightly against my hand. Being sweet is all I got in my toolbox to
get Duke to chill out enough so that my brother can keep his teeth,
and unfortunately for Jeremy’s smile, sweet doesn’t always come
easy for me. Stepping off to the side, I remove my hand from his
chest, and look at the pavement. Diesel said I just have to do
better and demand better of Duke, and that’s all I really got. So I
bite back my temper and gently place my hand on Duke’s back. His
muscles tense at the contact. I keep my hand still, but make
circles over his cut with my thumb. It takes a good, long minute
before the tension dissipates and he screams, “Fuck!”

“
He’s lucky he’s your
brother or he’d be in the emergency room right now,” he says
without taking his eyes off Jeremy. The words are clearly meant for
me, so I give him an “I know, baby,” Grady strides up and grabs a
hold of Jeremy by the back of his neck, giving him a menacing
grin.

“
I’ll
babysit while you two talk your shit out,” Grady says then drags
Jeremy, who’s
finally
catching on that he did something wrong, into the
clubhouse.

Duke turns around and
stares at me with a blank expression. I move slowly, reaching out
and taking his hand. With a quick squeeze, he moves forward, and we
walk into the clubhouse, hand-in-hand.

I’m sick of the walk down
the hall to his room. Nothing good ever comes of us going to his
room, but I have orders from Grady, and I don’t want to be the next
person he babysits after he gets done with Jeremy. As far a I’m
concerned, Grady and I can be like ships passing in the night. This
time, though, it’s different. I lead the way, and I’m the one to
open the door. I’m the one who waits until Duke walks in, and then
I shut the door behind me.