by Bella Jewel
“Dakoda.”
He studies me, squinting. “Yeah. OK. Come around the back. Make it quick.”
I thumb the gun in my jeans that I shoved in before I left home and move around to the back of the building where a solid door opens and Jarod appears again, his domineering presence a lot stronger now. I wouldn’t fuck with him unless I had a lot of fucking weapons to back me up. He’d snap a man even my size in a millisecond.
He looks at me, for a long, long time.
“This some sort of fuckin’ joke?”
I pull my hoodie off and he takes a step back.
“You’ve got some fuckin’ balls comin’ out here,” he growls, pulling out his phone.
“I’m not Braxton.”
He grunts. “My eyes see what my eyes see, and you’re Braxton.”
I reach for my hoodie and he pulls out a gun quickly, so fucking quickly I pause and hold his eyes. “Got I.D. in my pocket. Goin’ to show you. I’m his twin brother. But I’m here on his behalf. You don’t want me to move, I won’t. You can get it out yourself.”
The big man’s eyes narrow. “Don’t fuckin’ move.”
He reaches for my hoodie pocket and jerks out the papers in there. I made sure to bring it all, in case questions were being asked. Birth certificate, all my photo identification. Everything. He studies it all, flicking through the pages, looking at the pictures, and then thrusting them back at me. “Twin brother. Hate to say it, but you’re fuckin’ in as much danger as he is, walkin’ around lookin’ like him.”
“Fully aware of that,” I mutter. “But I gotta get him safe. He fucked up, but he’s my brother. Family. Blood. Can you help me, or not?”
He stares at me, jaw tight, eyes intense. “Do the same for my brother, and frankly, I stay out of other people’s business. Just know, your brother has a lot of people after him.”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
“Big hits against his name.”
I jerk back. “What?”
“You didn’t know?”
I clench my jaw. “Please fuckin’ explain.”
“Man he fucked over. He don’t do his own dirty work. He puts hits out. Big ones. Lots of money. Enough to get the attention of desperate people out there, junkies, people who need money. All they gotta do is put a bullet in your brother’s head and bring him to him, and they’re walkin’ away with big cash. Two mil, last time I checked.”
Fuck.
Me.
Two. Million. Dollars.
That’s big. Fucking massive.
“Fuck,” I hiss, running my hands through my hair. “How fast can you work? Startin’ to think he’s not safe, even where he currently is.”
“Tell you somethin’, your brother ain’t safe anywhere in this state, hell, possibly this country.”
Fuck.
Dammit, Braxton.
“Can you help me?”
“You got cash. I’ll help.”
I pull out the right amount of cash, handing it to him. He counts it, one bill at a time. Then he takes all the paperwork he needs to give us a new identity.
“Give me two weeks.”
“I don’t have that fuckin’ long,” I bark, clenching my fists.
“Shit like this, shit that’s goin’ to pass through not only government agencies, but airports, borders, means I gotta fuckin’ do it right. It ain’t easy. It’s risky. Two weeks or nothing.”
Fuck.
“OK,” I growl. I don’t have a fucking choice. “Two weeks.”
“Come back here, two weeks exactly. I’ll have what you need.”
I nod, studying him once more. If he fucks me over, if he runs with my money, I won’t have time to do this again. He knows it. I know it. Both Braxton and I will be dead. The heat is fucking rising, and we’re starting to crumble under its pressure.
“Not goin’ to do a runner on you,” Jarod says, voice gruff. “You got enough problems, if you get away with this alive, I’ll be very fuckin’ surprised.”
Him and me both.
Yeah.
Him and me both.
~*~*~*~
NOW – KODA
One sip.
Then another.
Three quarters of a bottle of bourbon and my arm is still fucking hurting. I stare over at Charlie, who is sitting with Scarlett and Amalie, drinking and laughing. She looks so fucking beautiful, and my dick twitches just imagining how god damned much better she’d look beneath me. The things I’d do to put that girl beneath me.
But I can’t.
Because I’m too close to finally fucking finding the man who stole my brother’s life and took my soul with him.
“When are we goin’ to ask her if she knows anyone we can use?” I mutter, looking over to Malakai.
“When she’s less fuckin’ traumatized. Big night, big day, let her breathe.”
“We got two men who have given us fuck-all, except they knew about the hit and found her number. Not goin’ to be hard for others to find her. Anyone can be found with the right person lookin’. Even the well-hidden ones. Trust me on that. We gotta move soon, or we’re goin’ to end up with a very dead girl and a fuck load of danger for the club.”
Malakai’s eyes flash with rage. “I fuckin’ know that, Dakoda. But I also know that girl needs five fuckin’ minutes to process. First light, I’ll talk to her, ask the question, get the ball rollin’. You need to back down. She had your back tonight, ‘bout time you started havin’ hers.”
“Not my fuckin’ job to have her back,” I seethe.
“Anyone tell you you’re bein’ a fuckin’ dick lately?” Maverick asks, glaring at me. “Know you’re not usually like this, Koda. Whatever it is that this case is stirrin’ up, you need to lock it down before shit starts gettin’ out of hand. That girl has done a fuckin’ lot for us. We’re not goin’ to risk her life without first makin’ sure we’ve got all our bases covered.”
I grit my teeth, but I know they’re right. I know it, but I fucking hate it. I don’t want to see Charlie end up in danger, fuck, I’m not that much of an asshole, but I also don’t want to see that piece of shit that she has as a father walk once again without suffering slowly for what he’s done to other people. Monsters like that deserve to die in the most painful way.
And I’m going to make sure that happens.
One way or another.
“You got something against her father we don’t know about?” Malakai asks me.
Hate lying to him, more than anyone in the world. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be where I am now. I wouldn’t have the club. I wouldn’t have family. I wouldn’t have been able to pick myself up off the ground and recover after I lost Braxton. For that, I’ll be forever grateful to him for giving me a chance.
And I know when he finds out, he’ll lose his shit.
But if I tell him, if he knows how close this is to me, he’ll put me back. He’ll make sure I have no involvement, with Charlie or otherwise. Protecting Charlie was my opening, and they knew I was the perfect man for the job. What they didn’t know, however, is that I wanted to do it for a reason. My reasons, regardless, don’t mean I’d let anything happen to that girl.
She doesn’t deserve the life she lived.
She certainly doesn’t deserve to have to call that pig her father.
“No,” I say, holding Malakai’s eyes. “But this one touches home for me, understand? Men like that are the reason my brother is dead.”
Not him exactly. I’ll never say him exactly.
“And because of that, it means more to me than it does to you, to see him taken down. Not to mention—” I glance at Charlie, whose eyes flicker over to mine, and she gives me a small smile before turning back to Scarlett “—he used a child to do his dirty work, and in the process, he ruined her life.”
I glance back at Malakai, and he’s staring at me, compassion in his eyes. Don’t talk about Braxton, never have, probably never will. It’s a subject that’s very fucking sore for me. But Malakai knows I los
t him, and he knows it forever changed me.
“Understand, brother,” he says, voice firm. “Understand. Just keep your head about you.”
I nod. “Yeah, I will.”
When I have Benjamin Masters’ head in my hands, I’ll have my head about me. I’ll sleep easy, knowing my brother didn’t die for nothing. I’ll make sure, with his blood still dripping from my fingers, that he never hurts another human being.
“Got the look in your eyes again,” Mason says, and I jerk, looking over to him, scowling. “That look that is so fuckin’ empty it’s scary. I thought I could look in the mirror and see pure emptiness, but you, you’ve got emptiness and a bitter hate that runs so deep your bones are filled with it.”
His words hit me right in the gut, but I don’t say anything, I just nod.
“Be careful with that,” he mutters, voice gruff. “Eat you alive.”
Too late for that.
Far too fucking late.
It already has.
-13-
THEN – CHARLIE
“I’m sorry, Father,” I stammer, pressing my back against the wall. “But he hurt me, and he touched—”
“I don’t give a fuck if he cut your fucking hands off, you ran out of there, causing a scene, making people ask questions. You little fucking bitch. You stupid, stupid child. I told you how important this was. Now you’ll never be allowed back in his house. He’ll fuckin’ know it’s you. So now I can’t get what I need.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I tried …”
“Tried?” he bellows, taking my tiny shoulders in his big hands and launching me off the ground, slamming me into the wall so hard the breath is knocked out of me. Tears stream down my face because it hurts so much. “You fucking tried? You didn’t try. I told you, no matter what, that you never fucking run. You do your job. I told you, and you didn’t listen, you stupid little—”
He lifts me off the wall and slams me back again so hard my head bounces off the wall and I bite my lip, making blood pour down my chin.
“Bitch,” he roars.
He drops me to my feet and his big hand swings back. I close my eyes, waiting for it, because I know it’s coming. I knew when I ran that it was coming, that he’d be so angry at me. That he would make me pay for running out. The slap comes hard, so hard my little body goes flying across the room and I land on the floor with a thump, rolling to my side and curling into a ball.
It’s the only way.
His boots hit my ribs, once, then twice, and he bellows in rage.
I made a big mistake.
I released the monster.
“You waste of fucking air, I wish you were never fucking born, you complete and utter disappointment.”
I clench my eyes shut, my body shaking. It hurts everywhere.
Everywhere it hurts.
I wish Mommy was here.
I wish she never met him.
I wish she found a nice dad for me.
“Waste. Of. Fucking. Air.”
The door slams, and I make my first sound. I have learned not to scream. Any noise, any at all, and he’ll get so angry he’ll fight harder. It’s better to be quiet, to let him say what he wants to say, to let him hurt me as much as he needs to, and then cry after. When he’s gone. When I’m alone and he can’t hear me.
I tremble, and a tiny sound comes from my throat. There is blood in my mouth, and I don’t like how it tastes. It makes me feel yucky, and I don’t like the pain that always comes after it. I can’t eat, and Rebecca has to make me milkshakes when my dad isn’t around, so that I don’t get too skinny. That’s what she told me, anyway. She said I’m already too skinny, and if I don’t eat, it’ll get worse.
I don’t care.
The door creaks, and I know it’s Rebecca. She gets bolder every time. She knows that my father will sit in his office fuming for a while, so she has a little bit of time to come and see if I’m okay. This is the worst he’s hurt me, the absolute worst, and I feel like my body isn’t going to move from the ground. Maybe I’ll die on the ground, just like Mommy did. Maybe we’ll be the same. That’s okay with me.
A cool hand strokes my hair back from my face, and I don’t move, I don’t even look up.
I know it’s her.
“What did you do this time, kid?” she murmurs, dabbing at my mouth with a warm, wet cloth.
“I ran away,” I croak.
“You know you should never run away, your father doesn’t like running away.”
“I was afraid, Rebecca. The man was hurting me, and touching me …”
Her hand pauses. “Touching you? A man was touching you?”
“Y-y-y-yes.”
“In the places I showed you no one should ever touch you?”
“Yes.”
She makes a strange sound, I’m not sure what it is, but I’ve never heard it before. It sounds a little sad, and maybe a little frustrated. “Then you should run away. You should always run away. Nobody should ever touch you if you don’t want to be touched.”
“But when I run away, Father hurts me.”
She wipes my face, the cloth cleaning up the blood and making it feel less yucky.
“Yes, but one day you’re going to grow big, which is why I always tell you to eat up. And when you’re big, you’ll be able to stand up to him, to make your own choices, to be free.”
“Father says I’ll never be free.”
“But you will, kid. One day, you will fight the monster back. Until then, you have to be strong. There is nothing else out there for you. Nothing but even more monsters.”
I turn and look up at her, my eyes are blurry. “There are more monsters out there?”
“So many more, some of them a lot worse than your father. Like I tell you, you fight the monster you know. Be strong. Be smart. Get bigger. Get smarter. And maybe, one day, you’ll get what you deserve.”
“What do I deserve?” I ask her, as she helps me up from the floor.
“Freedom.”
“Does that mean he won’t be here anymore?”
She nods, lifting my shirt and placing an ice pack on my ribs. I hold it there and slide my shirt back down over it. “That means he won’t be here anymore.”
“And what about you, will you be here?”
She glances around. “I’ll be here for as long as I can. But if I’m not, if I’m not here, you have to always remember what I told you.”
I nod, and the ice is burning my skin, but I know it’ll make it feel better. It always does.
“What is that?” she prompts, holding my eyes.
“That I have to get big.”
“And?”
“Strong.”
“And?”
“And fight the monster.”
“And what else?”
“And never let anyone touch me.”
“And the most important?”
“The most important,” I say softly. “The most important is that I never stop fighting. That I always find my way out, even if I think there is no way, even if I have a big wall in front of me. There is always a way out.”
“Even if you have to what?”
“Blow my way out.” I smile.
She smiles back.
“That’s right, kid. You’ll get past that wall, even if you have to blow your way out. Because on the other side is freedom.”
I nod.
Blow my way out.
Yes, blow my way out I will.
After I finish fighting the monster.
~*~*~*~
NOW – CHARLIE
“How come you never told us about your father?” Scarlett asks me, handing me another drink.
“No offense, but you and I had only just met; I wasn’t about to spill those kinds of details.”
“I know, I just figured after the hit came to light, you might explain more.”
I shake my head. “I don’t really like talking about it.”
“Understandably.” She nods. “I’m really sorry. That’s
such a hard life to live. I don’t think I could be as strong as you.”
Strong.
It isn’t a word I’ve ever really used for myself.
Survivor? Sure.
But strong? No.
How am I strong when the monster I was supposed to fight is still out there, still chasing me, still trying to make me suffer?
I’m not strong.
I’m just running.
And hiding.
And doing the best I can, which sometimes I feel is not enough.
“I wouldn’t use those exact words,” I say, sipping my drink, liking that my head is feeling light already. “But thanks.”
“I’d use them,” Amalie says, smiling softly. “I have endured what I thought was a lot, but what you have lived through, that’s something of a whole new level. I could never have gotten through it the way you did. You’re incredible, Charlie. And strong, absolutely strong.”
I give her a grateful and warm smile, but my head is warm from the alcohol, my body fuzzy, and I really need some air. And, if I’m being honest, I don’t want to talk about my father anymore, or the life I lived, or the fact that everybody thinks I’m something I’m not. Because they do. They think I’m some sort of survivor, a warrior, someone who fought through the storms and came out the other side stronger.
But it isn’t exactly true.
I did bad things. I endured bad things. I only fought because I had to, not because I wanted to.
I think that defines strong, right?
“Thanks, Amalie,” I say, standing. “I need some air. This alcohol is going straight to my head tonight.”
They both give me concerned looks, like they feel like they’ve upset me.
“I’m not upset,” I say to them, giving them a big grin. “Honestly, I need fresh air. Or I’ll probably pass out. Thank you both for everything you’ve done for me, and for this cabin, Scarlett.”
“Always.” She smiles. “I’m going to crawl into bed after I rope in my man, anyway. I’m tired.”
“Me, too.” Amalie nods. “Goodnight, Charlie.”
“Night,” I say, waving and then walking through the cabin.
I pass Maverick, Malakai, and Koda sitting around a table in the kitchen. There are two cabins, Koda, Mason, Boston, and I are in one, and the other couples are in the other. I don’t know if they realized they put me with three single men, but they did. I don’t mind. I got my own room, Koda got his, and the other two just threw out some bedding in the living room. It isn’t for long. Most of the club will go back in a few days anyway.
