by Bella Jewel
I’m still not sure the club has what it takes.
No matter how bad that sounds.
“How the fuck do you think we can protect you if we don’t even know where to start lookin’?”
I take a deep breath. “Do you honestly think I’d just throw your club into a fire, without first checking that you were fully protected? If I tell you everything, I know exactly what you’ll do. You’ll all get yourselves killed.”
“No fuckin’ faith,” he growls.
“It has nothing to do with faith,” I snap back. “It has to do with logic. I know the darkness out there, okay? I fucking know it better than anyone. If I honestly thought it wasn’t a risk, I’d send you all running in there. But it is a risk. To your club. To those women the men call family. To kids. To everyone. If you think I’m going to just throw you all into that, then you don’t know me at all.”
“Eventually,” he grates out, “it’s goin’ to catch up with us. Eventually, we won’t be able to hide anymore. Fuckin’ eventually, we’ll have to find a way to end this so you’re protected. We swore our loyalty to you after what you did for us, but we can’t hide you forever.”
“And I wasn’t asking you to. I’ll figure something out. I just … Give me a little bit of time, okay?”
“You have a million-dollar fuckin’ hit on your head, Charlie. Someone is goin’ to find you, and someone is goin’ to put a bullet in your skull. If you don’t tell us who wants that, we’re fucked, and so are you.”
I flinch at the thought of losing my life. Of him winning. Of him having what he’s always wanted. The last woman in his life dead. The very thought makes me angry and frustrated, but mostly scared as hell. My father is the deadliest kind. Dangerous. Reckless. Cold blooded. He will stop at nothing, I know this as much as Koda does, but he simply doesn’t know yet the monster he’s facing up to.
Nobody does.
They have no idea.
None, whatsoever.
~*~*~*~
THEN – CHARLIE
“Nobody will know you’re mine.”
My father’s rough fingers scrape through my scalp, burning my head as he puts something that smells really bad in my hair. His fingers come back black as he grabs the messy bottle and squirts more on, scrubbing it into my hair and making my eyes water. I don’t know what he’s putting onto me. I don’t care. I just want my mommy back. But she isn’t coming back.
I know that now.
I belong to my dad.
“You’re going to work for me. Find out what I need. It’s perfect. This worked out perfectly. Your mother dying was a blessing. I’ll be the fucking best.”
A blessing.
My heart hurts, but I don’t cry anymore.
Dad told me the more I cry, the more he’ll make me wish I didn’t.
So, I stopped crying.
Except for when I go to bed at night and I know he can’t hear me. Then I cry. I cry really hard. I miss my mommy. I want her to come back. Knowing she isn’t going to makes everything really empty. Our maid, Rebecca, comes into my room sometimes and pats my hair. She’s not really supposed to, but I think she feels sorry for me. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t eat or get to school.
Dad doesn’t care about me.
He told me so yesterday.
His fingers wrap around my upper arm after a few minutes with this yucky stuff in my hair, and he drags me into the washing room and pushes my head over the sink. It hurts, a lot, but I don’t complain. He’ll only make it hurt worse. I don’t know why dad doesn’t love me. All my friends at school, their dads love them. They come and pick them up and swing them around in their arms.
My dad has never hugged me.
Or kissed me.
Or told me he loves me.
But I don’t love him, either, so maybe it’s fair.
Black liquid fills the sink, and I stare at it, washing down the drain until it becomes clear. I see strands of my hair, and it’s not red anymore. It’s black. Dad changed my hair color. I’m not sure why. He keeps telling me I’ve got a job to do, and I need to learn and pay attention. And mostly, I can never tell anybody he’s my father. If I do, he’ll send me to be with Mommy.
The same way.
Sometimes I think that wouldn’t be so bad, going to be with Mommy. Even if it did mean some cruel man had to shoot me. At least I wouldn’t be here with Dad.
Maybe.
Dad’s harsh fingers pull me into an upright position and he takes a towel, rubbing my head until it hurts. I bite my lip to stop from making any sound. He doesn’t like it when I complain. He scrubs my head dry and then tosses the towel. “Brush it. Then come into my office. We’re going to go over everything you’ve learned.”
He storms out, and I take the brush, panicking. What if I forget something he’s taught me? There is so much to remember. So many papers and words I have to look for, things I have to find. I don’t think I’m old enough for what he wants me to do. I don’t think I’ll be able to get it right, and if I don’t, he’ll hurt me.
I’m tired of being hurt.
I brush my hair quickly and rush to his office, knocking on the door. He yells something, and I walk in, timidly standing and watching him. He calls me over, and I go, right away. I stop in front of him and he crosses his arms. Mommy told me once that she fell in love with Dad because he was so handsome. I don’t really understand what that means, I just know to me Dad is only scary. And mean.
Really mean.
“What are you going to do? From the top?”
I swallow, and my fingers tremble. “Ummm …”
He steps forward, his fingers grabbing me by the shoulder. He squeezes really hard, so hard tears burn in my eyes, but I don’t cry. “I swear to God, Charlene. I will make you remember, no matter how hard I have to hurt you to get there. Now, what the fuck did I teach you?”
“I’ll go to the houses you tell me to go to,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “I’ll knock on the door and tell the people I’m lost and I don’t know where I am. When they let me inside, I’ll ask to use the bathroom. Then, I’ll run off and find any information I can.”
“And what information are you looking for?”
“N-N-N-Names. Places. Phone numbers.”
“And if they catch you?”
“I t-t-t-t-tell them I’m homeless and I was looking for money.”
“And you never what?”
“Tell them you’re my father.”
“And if they capture you, or get suspicious?”
My bottom lip trembles. “It’s my o-o-o-own stupid fault.”
“Exactly.” He nods, releasing my shoulder. “It’s your own stupid fault. Be smart, that’s what this family is all about. You get smart, you do the job, I might keep you around. You don’t, I’ll make you wish you were never born. And trust me, Charlene, you don’t want that. I’m a very mean man.”
I know.
I know you are.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he growls.
“Yes, Sir.”
He nods. “Get out. Keep practicing. Tomorrow, you go to your first house. And remember, Charlene, we don’t have time for tears, or sniveling. Get tough, or I’ll make you that way.”
I swallow and turn, rushing out the door.
I’m afraid for tomorrow, so deathly afraid.
I don’t want to do it, I don’t, but I have no choice.
He’s going to make me.
He’s going to turn me mean, just like him.
Just. Like. Him.
-4-
NOW – KODA
“How’s it goin’?”
I glance over at Charlie, who is sitting on the side of the porch, legs dangling off. She’s staring off into the darkness, not a care in the world. It’s becoming more and more apparent to me that she’s not afraid of much. I know why. I know the life she’s led. Nothing out here could frighten her more than what she’s already seen. I’d say I feel pity, but I don’t. Everyone has a story—yo
u either choose to embrace it or let it eat you alive.
Charlie is strong.
I’ll give her that much.
But she doesn’t need pity.
She needs to give me information.
I need to end this.
For more reasons than she’ll ever know.
“First night, already fuckin’ long,” I mutter to Malakai on the phone.
“She behavin’?”
“She’s mouthy but not difficult. Won’t talk.”
“Tell her how important it is that she talks?”
“’Course I fuckin’ did. She thinks if she talks, we’ll get killed.”
Malakai hums. “Whoever is after her she obviously knows is deadly.”
Yeah.
Fucking deadly.
A deadly secret.
One she’s holding close to her chest.
We all have our own demons. Our own secrets. And our own battles.
I glance at Charlie again.
No doubt our demons have danced. More than once.
“We’re no closer down here,” Malakai tells me. “We’ve got men out everywhere, tryin’ to find more information. Treyton is dead, which means we need to find new leads. His threat to our club is now gone, but whatever happened when he had Charlie, whatever information he shared, has created a whole new world of problems. Because now she’s being hunted.”
Hunted.
Yeah. Fucking hunted.
“Yeah,” I grunt. “I’ll keep lookin’. I find a lead, I’ll let you know. All we have, so far, is her name. Until she talks, that’s all we have to go on.”
“I’ve got people keepin’ ears to the ground, tryin’ to get word on the street, whispers. Someone big is out there, runnin’ this show, and whoever it is wants Charlie. My guess, it’s a family member, or an ex-boyfriend.”
Right.
“Either way,” I say, clenching my fist, “we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
I fucking hate this.
My demons are eating me from the inside out.
And I can’t tell a damned soul about it.
“Yeah, we will. Few of us comin’ up on the weekend, go over information, have a meeting. Do Charlie good to have female company, no doubt she’ll be sick of you by then.”
“Send a fuckin’ woman up, Malakai. If I can’t get out of this fuckin’ hell hole, I need to get my dick wet.”
Malakai chuckles. “Always about the pussy.”
“Comin’ from someone who has regular pussy.”
He grunts. “True. I’ll send Sugar up. She knows the way. She’s got a sweet ass. She’ll do the job.”
“Don’t give a fuck who it is, so long as she’s got a useable pussy.”
Malakai snorts. “Harsh, brother.”
“Like you haven’t had the exact thought,” I grunt.
“Too right. I’ll send her up.”
“Good. Check in later.”
“Be nice to that girl, Koda. She did a good thing for our club.”
Yeah.
“Later.”
I hang up the phone and crack another beer, staring at Charlie again. She’s deep in thought, hands resting on her lap, staring into the darkness with no expression on her face. Scared? She should be. A hit like that, people will come after her, at all costs. It won’t take them long to track her down. That’s what I’m here for, but I can only hide her for so long.
Eventually, it’ll catch up to her.
And she’ll be standing on the edge of hell, more than willing to fucking jump to escape it.
~*~*~*~
THEN – KODA
“Who the fuck are you workin’ for, Braxton.”
Arms crossed, I glare at my brother who is sitting in his hospital bed, attached to more tubes than I’d like, staring at me with a pale, sunken face and a body that is far too thin for his build. How the fuck did I get so wrapped up in my own life that I didn’t notice he was sinking so heavily? What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Fuckin’ no one, Dakoda. You need to back the fuck off. I had a big night, that’s all.”
“Do you forget who I am?” I bark. “You lie as fuckin’ well as I do. Which means, I know you’re feedin’ me bullshit, and I don’t appreciate it. One look at you tells anyone glancin’ that it wasn’t just one big night, it was many. You look like you’re walkin’ on the edge of death. So, I’ll ask again. Who the fuck are you workin’ for?”
“I said no one,” he growls, voice croaky and low. “I’ve been using, that’s it.”
“Not what your roommate told me.”
“Fuck him!” he yells, throwing a hand up. “Fuck him. He knows nothing. Neither do you. Just because you’re my twin doesn’t mean you get to come in here and think you can run my life. You fuckin’ can’t.”
Braxton and I have always been close. Always.
So why the fuck is he pushing me away?
I know drugs can cause these sudden mood swings, but it still isn’t like him to be so aggressive, which means whatever he’s into, it’s bad. It’s something he doesn’t want me involved in. It’s something he doesn’t want me to know. I don’t like that, not one fucking bit. And if he thinks I’m going to bail and not get him out of this, then he doesn’t know me at all.
But I think that’s the problem.
He does know me, and he knows I won’t back down.
“Say what you want. One way or another, I’ll be getting to the bottom of this, with or without your fuckin’ help, Braxton. You’re my brother, and you’re in trouble.”
“Will you fuck off!” he roars so loudly a nurse comes rushing in, her eyes wide.
“We’re in a hospital,” she hisses, then turns to me. “If you’re going to upset him, you need to leave.”
“I want him out,” Braxton says. “Get him out.”
The nurse studies me. “Sorry, but you’ll need to go.”
I look at Braxton, and I hold his eyes. “I will find out what the fuck you’re up to, Braxton, rest fuckin’ assured.”
Then I walk out of the hospital, chest rising and falling with angry pants. I reach my truck, swinging the door open so hard it reaches its peak and bounces back. I angrily shove it out of the way and get into the truck, starting it up and taking off. I drive in a rage straight to Braxton’s apartment, getting out and charging up to the front door.
I don’t knock.
I walk in.
Two bodies are going hard at it on the couch. A few moaned grunts can be heard. I walk straight past and into Braxton’s room. I glance around, cringing at the smell. Clearly nobody felt the need to clean the mess. I jerk his sheets off the bed and throw them on the floor, then I start looking around. I open drawers, cupboards, lift the mattress—I will find something.
I find his phone on the floor beside the bed, so I pick it up and shove it into my pocket, then I keep searching. I come up with a few bags of drugs and a few scribbled names on paper. I take it all. Then I scoop his sheets up and walk into the laundry room, shoving them into the machine and turning it on.
Then I get the fuck out of there.
The drive back to my apartment takes about twenty minutes, and the moment I arrive, I jump out of my truck and make short work of moving to the front door.
“Dakoda.”
Sighing, I turn around to see Trisha, a girl I’ve been fucking on and off, coming up my front path. Her ass sways from side to side as she walks. I keep her regular because she’s a good fuck and she has an incredible body. But that will end very quickly if she doesn’t fucking back off with the bullshit. Calling me all the time. Showing up whenever she wants to.
A big fucking no.
“Busy, Trish.”
She stops, crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her tits together. “There’s no need to speak to me like that. You haven’t answered my calls.”
I inwardly growl. “Because. I’m. Fuckin’. Busy.”
She frowns, big lips pouting. “Why are you being so nasty? I’m only here to make you
feel good.”
“Don’t feel like feelin’ good today, will call you tomorrow.”
I don’t give her a second glance as I turn and walk into my apartment. I’m not known for being the best man when it comes to women.
I fuck, and I leave.
End of story.
I don’t have time for anything else.
I flick on my lights in my apartment and ignore Trish’s pounding on the door as I flop down onto the couch and start going through Braxton’s phone.
One way or another, I’ll find who he is working for.
And I’ll end the motherfucker.
One way or another.
-5-
NOW – CHARLIE
Soft moaning wakes me from my light, restless sleep. For a minute, I thought maybe I was imagining it, or even dreaming it, but the more I wake up, the more I realize that it isn’t a dream. It’s coming from the living area. I rub my eyes and sit up, tipping my head to the side and listening further. Definitely female, definitely a pleasure moan.
Has Koda got someone here?
And if so, how the hell did he manage that? It isn’t an easy place to find. Which means it must be a woman from the club, because nobody else would know where this place is. I glance at the time—it’s only nine. I’ve barely been asleep an hour and a half. After an extremely awkward dinner, I decided to move to my room and must have fallen asleep. Last time I checked, it was still seven.
I’ve been exhausted lately.
It’s not surprising.
I slide to the side of the bed, shuffling out and putting my feet on the ground. I’m curious, and I want to see who is out there. I probably should give him some privacy, but my mind is never going to allow me to go back to sleep without looking. My heart races as I tiptoe to the door and gently grab the door handle. Will this squeak if I turn it? I can’t remember if it did before, because I wasn’t paying any attention.
The girl gives a loud whimper and I use that to turn the handle. It opens with ease and for a moment, I just hold it there, waiting for another good moan before I push it open. When one comes, I gently ease the door open enough that I can look out. My tummy coils with what I don’t know. Anticipation, maybe? I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help myself.
