I waited till I heard the back door slam before I jerked my thumb after her. “That’s Crew’s mom?” Creed nodded ruefully, reaching for the dog food to fill the bowl in his hand. “I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t a….” I hesitated, searching for the right term.
“Cougar?” Creed said helpfully and I nodded. “Yeah, she’s been after me since I was sixteen and before that it was Cord. Hell, she’d make a sandwich of us if we allowed it.”
I winced at that visual and wiggled my finger, “You haven’t….with her?”
“Oh, God, no.” Creed shuddered, giving me a wounded glance. “What kind of guy do you take me for?”
“I don’t know!” I lifted my hands in the air. “Maybe you were young and dumb. She’s older and more experienced.”
“She’s Crew’s mom,” he enunciated, shaking his head. “She had sex with my dad.” He waved a broad hand in my face. “Just no. I don’t do leftovers or my sibling’s moms.”
“Thank God for that,” I muttered, taking the bowl from his hand. “I’d hate to think of you doing Cord’s mom.”
“Damn it, woman.” He shot me a disgusted glance. “You had to go there.” A laugh bubbled out of me as I crouched in front of Maisy and she eagerly started eating. When I glanced back up, Creed’s expression had transformed and as he continued to stare at me, my laughter died and I brushed at my face self-consciously.
“Do I have something?” I questioned, flushing under his scrutiny.
“No,” he answered as he seemed to snap out of his trance. “You look great.” He filled a bowl with water and set it down next to Maisy, his gaze soft as it skimmed over my face. “I think that cream Norah made is helping.”
I prodded the skin around my eye with the back of my knuckle. “It doesn’t hurt as much,” I agreed, my gaze lowering under his intensity.
“You okay?” He questioned, keeping his voice low. “With everything that happened today?”
I nodded quickly, my hair falling forward as my head bobbed, and he tucked it back behind my ear in a feather light motion. “Is it terrible that I’m more upset about you having to shoot the dogs?” I glanced up, my tongue darting out to lick my lips, as I tried to gauge his reaction to my words. I didn’t expect to find his gaze focused on my lips or the downward tilt of his head as my breath left me in a sigh.
“Creed,” a voice barked and he turned, shattering the moment, and I hurried to duck my head, my hands stroking Maisy to hide their trembling.
“Crew,” he answered, pushing himself up in a smooth motion. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Deacon came to the club, told us what happened, figured you might need a hand getting the dogs,” Crew replied, his steps slowing as he approached and saw me kneeling on the ground next to Maisy. “You alright, Jailbait?”
I pressed my lips together at the damn nickname, but nodded to him, clearing my throat as I said, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“She likes to say she’s fine,” Creed interjected, glancing at his brother pointedly. “But she had a rough day. I had to put four dogs down at the house and we almost had a run in with the guy who’s after her.”
“He’s not after me,” I protested instinctively, trying to make it true if I said it enough. “There’s no reason for him to come after me. I don’t have anything he wants.”
Crew and Creed exchanged a glance over my head and Crew squatted down, coming to eye level and causing Maisy to growl a warning. He stayed where he was, giving her space as he as he gazed at me sympathetically. “Just being you is enough, Jailbait, and some guys don’t know how to take no for an answer.”
I dropped my gaze, not wanting to hear it because if it was true, then everything that had happened was my fault.
“You think you can ride back with Deacon and get the other two dogs?” Creed asked and I exhaled in relief at the reprieve. Crew nodded as he stood up and stretched. “You got that transmission done? I don’t need another reason to have Johnny up my ass.”
Crew chuckled. “Killing a guy and doing another a dog rescue isn’t enough?” Creed shot a glare toward him but didn’t disagree. “Did you manage to get Jailbait’s stuff?”
“I got what I wanted,” I butted in, not appreciating them talking about me while I was sitting there. “I don’t care about anything else.”
Crew gave Creed a puzzled glance and I looked up in time to see rage flicker across Creed’s face. “Someone,” he stated, his voice cold, “Had a good time with Jailbait’s stuff.” He made a crude gesture with his hand to indicate what he meant and Crew’s expression grew icy. “If I’d had the time I would have torched the damn place.”
“We can always go back,” Crew responded, his expression eager, and Creed looked like he was considering it before shaking his head.
“Maybe later,” he stated, shaking his head, “He’ll have to be taken care of, but first I need to clean up this mess I made.”
“Noah’s gonna take care of it,” Crew stated confidently and Creed nodded.
“He will, but you know his uncle is itching for a reason to take down the Rebels. Johnny won’t appreciate the stunt I pulled today.”
“He’ll understand. The guy tried to hurt Jailbait. We don’t let anyone hurt the club.” Crew sounded so sure, like it was just that simple but I could see the worry in Creed’s eyes as he forced a smile toward Crew.
“I took care of the electric bill,” he told him and Crew looked relieved. “I also had a word with your mom when I got here.”
Crew kicked the edge of the kennel, his expression quickly changing to one of irritation. “You didn’t need to do that. She’s been sick.”
“That’s what she said. She also said she was working tonight,” Creed replied bluntly. “I expect her to take care of you, not the other way around. She keeps pulling this shit you need to tell me.”
“Yeah,” Crew said grudgingly, his face stubborn as my gaze bounced between them. “I tell you and you take care of everything. Everyone calls Creed to handle shit.”
“Exactly,” Creed responded without hesitation. “And you’ll do the same.” He reached for Crew’s shoulder but he jerked away. “One day it’ll be you, little brother, who they call to take care of things. No need to rush it.”
“If Cord was here, he’d let me prospect with the club,” Crew answered harshly. “He’d trust me to handle my own shit.”
“He’s not here,” Creed said with more patience than I would have had. “And it’s not about trusting you, Crew. It’s about the fact that you’re seventeen and you shouldn’t have to take care of shit. Not yet.” Crew didn’t answer, fiddling with something on the rack as he refused to look at Creed. “I trust you to go get those dogs, don’t I?”
“With Deacon,” Crew spit out.
“Yeah, with Deacon, because we always ride together,” Creed shouted in exasperation. “Because we don’t ride alone. You know this. Quit pouting like the child you keep insisting you aren’t.”
Crew glared at him before grabbing two huge dog crates. “I’m taking the truck and meeting Deacon,” he muttered, striding off before Creed could say anything. We heard banging and then the truck starting.
“Wasn’t that our ride?” I asked, glancing up at Creed who had his fingers pinched over the bridge of his nose. “I can walk,” I added, feeling bad for him all of a sudden.
“It was our ride, and now you see why Crew and I don’t live under the same roof,” Creed sighed, crouching next to me to clean Maisy’s wounds. “Let’s get her settled and then head back to the club. I want to get there before Noah does.”
We left Maisy on some old blankets, half asleep, but she still whimpered when I left the kennel and I paused, feeling guilty. “She’ll be fine,” Creed reassured me. “I’ll show you the shortcut between here and the club so you can come visit her as often as you want.” I nodded, my gaze lingering on her.
“I’ll be back soon,” I promised as I reluctantly left the kennel. “You sure I can’t just stay here
with her?” I asked Creed seriously, already dreading facing Johnny back at the club. “It might be easier for everyone.”
“No,” Creed vetoed instantly. “You want Johnny’s respect, you have to earn it. That means facing him at his best and his worst.”
“He has a best?”
A laugh choked out of Creed and he shook his head at me. “Come on, Jailbait. I know you ain’t scared of little ol’ Johnny.”
“I’m not scared of anyone,” I answered tartly. “But that doesn’t mean I like subjecting myself to his presence.”
“But you did want to ask him about the Flying Eagles,” Creed reminded me, dangling that fact like a carrot stick in front of me.
I growled, stomping my feet a little as I followed Creed to the corner of the yard. “You had to remind me,” I fussed before stopping short. “My Dad’s jacket,” I cried, tugging on Creed’s sleeve. “It’s in the truck.”
“It’ll be fine,” he rushed to convince me. “Crew won’t touch it and we’ll get it out when he comes back.” His words didn’t have the desired effect on me and I watched as he fished his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call him.” He held up the phone, and I watched anxiously as it rang. I didn’t think Crew would answer since anytime I’d fought with my mom, the last thing I ever did was pick up when she called. He proved me wrong though as Creed said, “Hey, there’s a jacket in the truck….yeah, the leather one. It’s Jailbait’s. It belonged to her dad.” He paused. “Just take care of it, okay? Yeah, that’ll be fine.” He hung up the phone and smiled at me. “He’s going to leave it at the club. He and Deacon haven’t left yet.”
“Oh, thank you,” I cried, impulsively reaching out to hug him. He held still as I wrapped my arms around his torso, and buried my face against him. His chest lifted as he took a deep breath and I started to pull back, suddenly feeling awkward, when his arms came up and settled on my lower back. He pressed me forward and I settled more firmly against him. His scent surrounded me, leather mingled with sweat, as he held me securely, almost as if he knew how badly I needed to be hugged.
I pressed back against his hold, almost experimentally, and he loosened his grip reluctantly. “We need to go back,” I whispered, slowly sliding my hands from his waist. He caught them right before I released him, his larger hands almost swallowing mine.
“Don’t ever be afraid to hug me,” he murmured, dipping his head so our eyes met. “I may not be the best at it, but I’m always available.”
My lips curled up as I told him, “I’d say you’re pretty good at it.” His head tilted back as a low laugh rumbled from him and he took my hand, guiding me to a break in the fence.
“Glad you think so, Jailbait. Real glad.”
***
Nerves shot through me as we entered the dim club. Thankfully, it was too early for most of the regulars but when my eyes adjusted I spotted Johnny in the corner, a familiar leather jacket laid out on the table in front of him.
“Guess I won’t have to ask after all,” I mentioned as Creed escorted me to the table where he sat.
“Don’t be so sure,” Creed muttered as he pulled a chair out for me. “Johnny,” he greeted him, getting a grunt in reply. “You heard.”
“You didn’t think I would?” Johnny leaned back, a cigarette propped between his fingers as he eyed Creed. “I’d ask what you were thinking but what would be the point?” He slammed his fist on the table. “You weren’t thinking, you were reacting, and now we got a dead guy that needs cleaning up and scrutiny we don’t need.” His voice cracked like a whip on the last word and I jumped, drawing his attention. He rolled his tongue over his teeth, pushing my Dad’s jacket toward me with a single finger, as he said, “Did you find what you were looking for, Jailbait? Was it worth it?”
There was no missing the fact that he blamed me for what happened, and honestly, I couldn’t deny it so I didn’t. “I did and yes….it was worth it,” I answered, lifting my chin as I met his eyes. “You’d have done the same.”
“Don’t presume to think you know me,” he sneered in response and Creed leaned forward, ready to defend me, but a curt shake of Johnny’s head froze him. “I would never put this club at risk because of my own personal desire.” He stubbed his cigarette out against the leather of Dad’s jacket, watching me as the dying embers burned into the leather. “You’d do well to remember that the next time you want something.”
“Goddamn it, Johnny,” Creed growled, jerking the jacket off the table and shoving it into my hands. “It’s not like she asked or had anything to do with the guy today.”
“No, but someone came looking for her according to Deacon,” Johnny recollected. “Seems to me you said her past wouldn’t be a problem. When cops roll up it sounds like a problem to me.” He flicked a hard stare at Creed. “Or were you not going to mention that fact?”
Creed didn’t answer, locking gazes with Johnny, as my finger played with the hole in Dad’s jacket. Regret burned through me, for wanting to go back for a damn jacket and for being the reason Creed had killed the man earlier. I opened my mouth to speak when the bar door opened, breaking their stare down as they both glanced to see who’d come in.
“Glad you’re both here,” Noah said, walking straight to our table. His gaze flickered over me and I saw his mouth tighten almost imperceptibly. He pulled a chair out, swinging it around to sit in it backwards. “We’ve got a problem,” he announced and then his gaze swung to me. “Two problems,” he amended, sending an apologetic glance to Creed. “You have the gun?”
Creed nodded, his expression remote as he rolled an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I do.” I assumed they meant the gun he’d used to kill the dog fighting guy, but I wasn’t sure what it had to do with anything.
“Get rid of it,” Noah advised. “Uncle showed up as I was clearing the scene. He’s out for blood. Specifically, yours, and I’d rather not giving him a smoking gun.”
“Second problem?” Johnny interrupted, pointedly not looking my way as he lit another cigarette.
Noah inhaled sharply, holding it for a minute, before exhaling in a rush as he said, “She has to go.” He stared at the table for a second before glancing over at me. “I’m sorry, but there’s an APB out for you. You pissed off someone with powerful friends.”
“That Grant fucker,” Creed snarled, leaning his arms on the table. “He’s the reason. We can’t let him have her,” he declared, glancing at Johnny. “She’s under club protection.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Johnny answered sharply. “And club protection doesn’t mean she has to stay here.” He sent a warning glare to Creed when he opened his mouth. “Not when it puts the entire club at risk.”
“I can leave,” I interjected, my voice faint, as fear pooled in me at the idea of leaving. Creed shook his head violently, crushing the cigarette in his hand as he roared, “No!”
“Grant Ericson,” Noah stated, keeping his voice low. “That’s the name of the guy who filed a missing person’s report on Jailbait. No mention of her mom.”
“No criminal charges?” Johnny questioned and Noah shook his head. “Then why the APB? If she’s just a missing person.”
“He wants her bad enough that without some kind of protection it’ll only a matter of time until he gets her,” Noah answered bluntly. “Add in the fact that she’s a minor….” He didn’t bother to finish, knowing we got the picture. “She can’t be here.”
“How much time do we have?” Creed asked and my head jerked toward him in surprise. I hadn’t expected him to agree so quickly, even though I knew my being here put the club at risk.
Noah shook his head. “Uncle doesn’t tell me much since he suspects we’re tight. It’s only a matter of when.” He glanced between them. “He could show up at any of your businesses so make sure everything is above board.”
“Yeah, we know the drill,” Johnny said dryly. “We appreciate your help and any heads up you can give,” he mentioned and Noah nodded in acknowledgement. “You should prob
ably go before it gets back to your uncle that you were here.”
Noah shrugged ruefully. “That’s implying he doesn’t already know.” He stood up and Creed mimicked him. Noah offered his hand to him and he took it, shaking it as he nodded his appreciation. “I’m sorry,” Noah said again, his eyes darting to me for the barest second. “Really sorry.”
“Thanks for letting us know,” Creed answered, refusing to glance at me. “We’ll take care of it.”
I frowned, not liking him referring to me as it, like I was trash that needed to be taken out. I didn’t bother to say goodbye to Noah, keeping my hands buried in the jacket on my lap. Creed waited until Noah had exited the bar before sitting back down.
“Jailbait and I can leave in the morning,” he announced and my head jerked up in surprise as a tenuous hope spread through me. Johnny didn’t look the least bit surprised though, as he flicked a lighter on and off, the soft snick the only sound. He shook two cigarettes out of a pack lying on the table and lit them, handing one to Creed who accepted it automatically.
“You don’t think that’ll look suspicious?” Johnny finally asked and Creed shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tapping the table.
“She’s my responsibility,” Creed replied.
“And the club isn’t?”
My eyes lowered at the silky question, knowing Johnny had neatly trapped Creed in his own words. The club came first and I was a danger to the club.
“Don’t ask me to choose,” Creed answered, the words low and vicious, his eyes shooting a warning at Johnny as I sat there frozen at his insinuation. Johnny’s eyes widened slightly, his gaze locking on to mine as we absorbed Creed’s meaning. “It’ll be better for the club if I’m out of sight for a while. Let some of the heat die down. You know the Chief has it out for me more than the club.” The words were a balm meant to soothe the bomb he’d just dropped, but as Johnny stared at me, I knew it wasn’t enough. Creed had made his position clear and it was a choice neither of us had expected.
“Chief?” I asked, trying to ease the tension that had developed. “Who’s the Chief?”
Jailbait (Southern Rebels MC Book 1) Page 12
