Thrash (8 page)

“
Something like that,” I
say coolly, but he isn’t really having it. Darren doesn’t let
things go. He’s always the one to decide when to end a
conversation.

“
You could have been
something, you know,” he says. And here we go. “I’ve always
believed in you. So have my parents. I remember back in high school
how much you wanted to get out of this town and away from the club.
I don’t know what happened, but I remember a girl who couldn’t stop
talking about going to college and traveling the world.”

Feeling my temper rise, I say, “Life
happened. I have a brother who needs me. Things could have been
different, but they’re not, and I’d rather not talk about
it.”

“
You could have let the
Stones keep him,” he says, referring to Jim and Ruby. I bite back
the smart comment that’s sitting on my tongue. What a stupid thing
for him to say. No, I never could have left my brother in the hands
of the club—no matter how well-meaning they were. Darren sees
something in my face that tells him he’s stepped on the wrong
topic, and he gives me a soft, apologetic smile. He’s always been
so careful about his public image. If only the public
knew.

“
Sorry. I just hate to see
you waste so much potential. I remember what you could have
been—what we could have been together.” I don’t bother to tell him
that us together wasn’t going to happen.

“
Yeah, but listen. I just
remembered I’m supposed to pick Jeremy up from a friend’s house.”
Sliding off the stool, I give Darren a quick look.

Reaching an arm out and
grabbing my wrist, he holds me in place. Though he’s working to
keep his face blank of emotion, there’s a small tick in his cheek.
No, nothing has changed since high school. He’s still a total
control freak, and apparently, even years later, he’s still upset
that I broke it off between the two of us when I got Jeremy back
from Jim and Ruby in my junior year. Not that he cared—he’d gone
public with that cheerleader a month before that anyway, and he was
her problem.

“
Remember the fun we used
to have,” he says. It’s not a question, but a statement. It might
even be a warning. Back in the day, Darren Jennings suffered many a
private temper tantrum. Though you’d never know it by looking at
him, he can be a real mean son of a bitch when he doesn’t get his
way.

With that, I pull away,
clear my throat, and straighten my spine. “You’d be surprised what
I remember,” I say and walk out.

Chapter 6

My legs shake as I walk through the bar
and out the noisy front door. There was a time when I wouldn’t have
smarted off to Darren, much less walked out on him. But times have
changed, and so have I, but apparently he hasn’t. Still, I walked
away without even thinking about it. Neither of us are in high
school anymore, and I’m no longer that terrified and fragile little
girl I once was. She’s been gone a long time, and thank God for it,
too.

Struggling with the key in the door
lock, I waste precious time trying to calm myself down. Taking deep
breath after deep breath, forcing myself to relax before trying to
unlock the car door, I don’t hear the footsteps approach behind me.
A large hand lands atop the roof of my car. I jump in surprise and
drop my keys in the gravel below.

“
You okay?” Darren’s voice
travels through the tunnel of paranoia that overtakes me. He sounds
so calm, and so nice, but I know better than to assume he’s not the
same person he once was. Nothing he’s done is any different than it
used to be. As I turn to face him, he brings up his free hand. I
take a step back and press myself against the car. My stomach
lurches at the movement, and my face contorts in fear.

Looking him in the eye, I
see the softening of his features. His face falls and his forehead
smooths. His thin lips turn down, and, for the briefest of moments,
I feel sorry for upsetting him, which is beyond fucked up
considering our history. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I know I
can be a real jerk. I’m just nervous and sad because I don’t want
to mess this up.”

I almost believe him, but even I’m not
that stupid.

“
Okay,” I say. It’s all I
can manage. I can’t bring myself to forgive him, and I can’t say
that I trust that he’s being genuine. Not that any of it matters.
He’s going to be gone in a few months anyway.

“
Okay,” he says and turns
around, walking across the gravel lot toward his shiny BMW. Maybe
in the last few years he has grown. I guess it’s possible that he
really is maturing.

With that, I regain my confidence and
easily slide the key into the lock and crawl into the driver’s
seat. I check my phone and find eight more missed calls and one
from Duke that reads, FINE.

For once, the car starts
up immediately. Without another cognitive thought, I pull out of
the lot and head north on Main Street. Somewhere in the back of my
head, I realize that I’ve missed my turn toward the house, but I
keep going. It’s another few blocks before I swing into the left
turn lane at Adler Street. I hadn’t really considered what I was
doing when I got into the car, but apparently there’s something I
need here. Maybe it’s the ability to forget what I’m searching for.
Maybe it’s just Duke and all of his fake promises of being there
for me that I want to hear. Maybe it’s his strong arms and his
imposing size. So as the gates to the Forsaken clubhouse swing
open, I don’t delay in hitting the gas and pulling in.

It’s a weekday, but the
clubhouse is pretty active regardless. It’s a rare occasion when
nobody’s around, and that’s especially true at night. The guys
never seem to tire of one another, or at least they don’t very
often. Before Dad got locked up, he was always at the clubhouse,
and even more so after his bitch wife left us. Parking the car, I
climb out, and take my time walking across the lot. Most of the
party’s inside, but some of the guys have filtered out here. On a
picnic bench between Chel and Bear is Chief. His dark brown eyes
meet mine, and a smile spreads across his face. He gave up long ago
trying to tell me that I don’t belong here. As my dad’s closest
friend, he took it upon himself to try to care for both me and
Jeremy. Chief and his absent wife— made evident by the way he and
Chel were so close together— have always been good to me and
Jeremy.

“
Baby Girl,” Chief says.
He moves his long, pitch-black hair over his shoulder and leans
forward, swinging an arm over Chel’s shoulders. Chel smiles
uncomfortably at me and then looks away, but doesn’t move. She
knows how fond I am of Chief’s wife, Barbara, and it’s not cool for
her to be with Chief in front of me. It makes me feel disloyal to
Barbara and their kids, but that’s not something I’m allowed to
even touch on, so I don’t.

“
What’s up, Old Man?” I
ask with a smirk on my face.

“
Nothing
good, that’s for sure. What are you doing here?” he says. I’ve
never understood it— the blind loyalty to the club, but the often
disregarded promises these guys make to their wives. How they hang
around here and fuck whoever and however they want, totally turning
their backs on the people who they’re supposed to love the most.
But that’s the problem with club life— the thing these men love the
most
is
the club. It’s always been that way and always will be. The
women who marry these guys are just too fucking stupid to accept
it.

“
You seen Duke?” I ask,
realizing a moment later that I’m showing my cards way too soon. I
never ask for anyone. Normally, I show up just to hang out and
sometimes end up staying over in one of the guy’s rooms, but it’s
never planned out, and I never have a specific companion in mind.
This is new not just for me, but everybody who’s witnessing it, as
is obvious by the looks on their faces.

“
Duke, huh?” Bear asks,
quirking an eyebrow up at me. I shrug my shoulders in response. I
may be stating my intentions, but I’m not about to give these guys
ammunition to fuel their fire. They’re all a bunch of gossipy
assholes. Bear clears his throat and looks me over—like every time
he sees me. It’s useless. I’ve always told him I’m not going there.
For one, he’s got a wife, and for two, she’s absolutely insane.
“Thought after that fight today, he’d be done with you. He’s
inside,” Bear says.

“
Uh, I don’t think so,”
Chief says. His eyes dart to the door. “I think he headed out
already.”

“
You been smoking too much
bud, Dude,” Bear says, shooting Chief a look. “He’s
inside.”

Chief’s eyes narrow at
Bear’s then soften when they fall on me. I know those looks all too
well. Bear’s mischievous smile gives him away, and Chief’s worried
glances solidify my assumption. Duke’s inside with someone else. A
knot twists in my gut, and I consider my options. I could go home
and spare myself the irrational anger that’s going to flare at the
sight of him touching some other chick, but maybe I need this.
Maybe I need to see him doing his thing so I can stop pretending
he’s my knight on shining chrome.

“
Thanks, guys,” I say
absently make my way inside the clubhouse. Smoke wafts up as I
enter, filling my lungs and tickling at my nose. There’s nothing
about the clubhouse after dark that is inviting unless you’re one
of us. It’s smoky, dirty, and a hot spot for unparalleled
debauchery. The only windows are wide and short and they line the
wall at the ceiling, offering no light after the sun sets. Long
rows of overhead fluorescent lights form an orderly design on the
ceiling, but that’s where any semblance of order stops. From the
front door all the way to the chapel and out the back door, this
place is a mad house.

I find myself simultaneously loving and
loathing this place as I search the room for Duke. In the corner,
drinking a beer with some chick by his side is Diesel. He’s nodding
his head as she talks in his ear, but his eyes are someplace off
across the room. Jim is notably absent from the crowd. It used to
be weird not seeing him here when all of his men were, but ever
since the club got back from their trip to New York, it’s becoming
more routine for him to be absent.

“
I heard you’re looking
for somebody,” a deep voice says from behind me. The words are
laced with an arrogance that can only belong to Ryan Stone,
Forsaken’s Road Captain. Like Duke, Ryan’s a few years older than
me, and is—by all accounts—Duke’s best friend.

“
Yeah,” I say, deciding
there’s no point in trying to cover it up. “You seen
Duke?”

Turning to face Ryan, I see that he’s
twisted his face up in a look of disapproval. Ryan Stone is a
handsome guy. He’s well built, both by design and genetics, and
he’s got the attitude to match his good looks. With pitch black
hair that’s shorter on the sides and longer on top and a
well-defined jawline, Ryan’s got everything a girl could want,
including these gray eyes that used to make me blush when they fell
on me. But that was a long time ago. That was back before any of us
could drive a car much less ride a motorcycle, and that was back
before he and Duke turned into the men they are now. Unfortunately
for Ryan, he’s also a Grade-A dickhead with a mean streak a mile
wide. I pity the bitch who gets saddled with his ass.

“
Last I see him he had a
face full of pussy,” he says thoughtfully. My stomach feels like it
drops ten floors and slams into the concrete below. He leans his
face in and eyes me suspiciously. “You gettin’ a thing for our
boy?”

“
No,” I lie. It comes out
much too quick to sound truthful. The callous smile that spreads
across his face tells me he doesn’t buy it.

“
Tell ya what, I’ll bend
you over the bar and fuck you raw and hard for everyone to see.
Make sure you scream real loud, too—that way he’ll be sure to hear
you.”

“
You’re a real asshole,
you know that?” I say. I’m only mildly surprised by his comment,
but it still bothers me. I don’t know exactly where Jim and Ryan’s
stepmother, Ruby, went wrong with him. Back when he was in school,
she would always show up to his shit. It didn’t matter how little
he cared about the project or how poor his grades were. She always
showed up for his and Ian’s events. I have half a mind to slap the
idiot right out of him, but I’m not stupid enough to think whatever
history we have would save me from the repercussions of such an
act.

“
I know,” he says without
an ounce of sorrow in his voice. His arrogance knows no bounds.
“Walk with me, Nic. Let’s go find Duke,” he says and leads me
through the crowd of strewn about tables and chairs and the
occasional sofa. I’d rather not be tucked into Ryan’s side, but
it’s not worth the argument, so I go anyway. We pass the main
hallway that leads down to the chapel, the palace, and the
bedrooms. In the back of the clubhouse is the game room. In the
center is a pool table with dark red velvet lining and an overhead
light that’s styled in a Nordic head-piece fashion. There’s an
AC/DC pinball machine in one corner and a Pac-Man machine in
another. Ryan removes his arm from over my shoulders and moves to
stand in front of me.

“
Hey Brother, you wanna
share?” Ryan asks. My entire body tenses up at the question. The
word no flies through my brain repeatedly and at rapid speed. No,
no, no, no. He’s a jackass, but is he really this much of a
jackass? A rough, masculine voice laughs and instinctively, my head
flops forward between the shoulder blades of Ryan’s back. It’s
Duke. Just like I knew it would be, but knowing something and
finding something out are two totally different things.