Flick (The Black Sentinels MC Book 4)

by Victoria Johns

  “I don’t. Not to be blunt, but you don’t know me and I don’t really know Beckett, well, not anymore, and I just think it’s best if we figure this co-parenting thing out one day at a time. In any case, I know you’re close to him and I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

  But I did. If my jealously was anything to go by, I wanted to dig a crater between them.

  “I can respect that.”

  “I popped by to say, well, how sorry I am for the misunderstanding the other day. I got the wrong end of the stick.”

  Now she really laughed. “I’ll say. Although I like that you care enough about Shadow to take me on.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Well, for someone who doesn’t know him, you sure got stuck into defending him.”

  I thought about what she’d said. I did do that. I jumped in without a hesitation. “Yeah, I’m not really sure where that came from.”

  “Bet I could guess.” Malia smirked and waggled her brow.

  Dammit! Me and my big mouth.

  “Christ! No! We’ve kissed like once, years ago, a stupid teenage kiss, a regrettable one too. Nothing more. Eons ago, so long ago it barely even registers in the memory banks.”

  She grinned again. “Sure.”

  I was about to protest again, but I figured it wouldn’t help my case. “I should go, I have to get dinner on the table for his lordship.” My face turned to a grimace and she laughed again. “I also need to label the kids’ new school clothes and then search the internet for a job.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m a lawyer, but the legal stuff was too cutthroat, so just office stuff, management, organizational things. Bookkeeping, stock taking, that kind of stuff, anything officey. I had to leave my old job because this place is not exactly commutable.”

  “Oh, okay. Interesting.” Malia stopped there and said no more on the subject. “Thanks for coming by, consider the slate wiped clean. I’ll arrange drinks for the old ladies, that way you can really get to know us.”

  Geraldine appeared with the kids; we said our goodbyes and as we drove home, I immediately regretted not dissuading her from the drinks idea. Although, it would be nice to get to know her, I had a feeling that getting too settled was a bad idea.

  Shadow

  Darkness

  So. Fucking. Dark.

  That putrid familiar smell of death. Infecting my pores.

  I know as soon as I flip my night vision goggles down, my eyes will confirm what I already know.

  Deep breath in.

  Long extended exhale.

  Drag the goggles down and activate.

  Fuck.

  Bodies.

  Women.

  Children.

  Blood. All the blood.

  “Fuck!” I bolted upright in bed, greeted by darkness for real this time. I must have fallen asleep with the lights off.

  Wait a minute, I was sure I’d left it on. I didn’t want to make that mistake again. My mouth was dry, and my torso was hot and clammy, I’d been seconds away from breaking out in sweat.

  I flicked the lamp on my nightstand on and found my hands shook that much that I nearly knocked the damn thing to the floor.

  I crept out of my room in search of a drink, my feet recognizing everything that told me I was home, I was safe. Bland, plain, cream walls, plush carpet under foot and lastly, silence. Chugging back a couple of glasses of water in the kitchen, I filled a third and headed for the couch. With relief I sunk down into it, drank my water and put my feet up on the coffee table.

  My eyelids felt heavy and I welcomed the peace.

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d been there when I felt fingertips touch my shoulder.

  Quick as a whip, I reached up and grabbed for the neck of the intruder, intent of eliminating them.

  “Beck…ett, Beckett,” replied the strangled voice as I felt the glass thud on my foot. “Stop! It’s… me!” A hand clawed at my arm in panic and everything clicked back into place.

  Flick.

  In my house.

  “Fuck!”

  I released her and she fell to her knees, holding her throat and breathing deep.

  “Jesus. Never, ever, sneak up on me.” I dropped to my haunches and ran a hand over her head. “You okay?”

  She scuttled back, slammed into the couch and looked at me like I was a stranger. “Get away from me.” Her voice warbled, having lost all that fire and fighting spirit I loved so much. I’d done that to her, made her feel fear, the Shadow within me had come forward and taken control with the one person who should never, ever see him.

  “Shit, Felicity, I’m sorry.”

  I did the only thing I could, I stood up and let her have some space. I went to switch the lights on, before I approached her again. She was wide-eyed, almost feral, and definitely terrified. “Let me check your neck,” I asked gently.

  “No,” she scratched out.

  “Not gonna ask again.” She had a split second to decide and thankfully, she chose wisely. As I tilted her head back, I saw her pretty neck elongate elegantly with caution. I held my breath while my hands scanned her skin. “You’re good.” With my hands still holding her, this time I looked at her and repeated my earlier apology. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “You already said that.” Her eyes darted down and then back up, before dropping again, this time for longer and that was when I knew she’d seen them.

  “What are those?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Doesn’t look like nothing.”

  I released her from my grasp. “If I say it’s nothing, it’s nothing.”

  “Since when are scars nothing?”

  I exhaled. “Stop fucking pushing, Flick.”

  I saw her swallow and braced for her to ignore me and forge ahead. “That one looks like a… slice. And… and, is that a bullet wound?” I saw how hard it was for her to drag her eyes from my chest and torso.

  “Line of duty. Past. Now can we fucking drop it?”

  She moved her fingers to her throat, letting them flutter over her skin to check I wasn’t lying and that she was indeed okay. “Looks like they had hurt,” she whispered.

  “Taking a chunk of metal at high velocity tends to sting a bit.”

  Finally, she smiled. “Stings?”

  “Yeah, just a bit.” I smiled and sat next to her, this felt better.

  “Your sister never talked about your time in the service.”

  Tracey wouldn’t, she knew very limited information, that was all part of helping to keep her safe. I couldn’t do what I needed to do if I was worrying about people who were back home worrying about me.

  “Where did you serve?”

  I gave her a look and nothing more.

  “You won’t tell me?”

  I hadn’t taken my eyes from hers.

  “You can’t tell me?”

  Ever so slightly, I shook my head, and felt my defenses crumbling bit by bit.

  “What was it like?”

  “Flick,” I warned.

  “Must be hard, going to war and not being able to talk about it.”

  She had no idea. No one needed to see the horrors of war, but my problem was that most of the shit I’d done was so secret, so black ops, that we were in wars that no civilian even knew we were fighting.

  “Time for bed.” I went to move.

  “Why were you out here?”

  “Pretty sure, I just said it was time for bed.” Frustrated, I slumped back on the couch again.

  “Did you have another nightmare?”

  I froze as she voiced the concern I’d always had. That someone would figure out just how fucked up I was. I never let any bitch I fucked outstay their welcome, just in case they saw this side of me. Turns out I was right, and what had happened tonight would suggest that they may have been in danger, I could have fucking killed one of them. “What do you mean, another nightmare?”

  Flick looked around sheepish, it was then that I noticed
she was dressed in the sexiest set of PJ’s ever. Her long legs stuck out of the bottom of booty shorts and her ass cheeks were barely covered. I imagined slapping that cheek and watching it blush pink, just like she did when I embarrassed her. “You had one last night. Although—”

  “Although what?”

  “Although, the way you were moaning, I thought you’d brought someone home. You know, to…” She finally blushed. “I was worried you might wake the kids. Lila’s worse at night, doesn’t sleep too great and because of that Ben sometimes sleeps light too. I didn’t want Lila to go wandering and find her uncle with some tart’s legs wrapped around him.”

  First Malia, and now some person she’d dreamed up. Flick had a jealous streak.

  “That bother you?” Fuck, I wanted it to bother her.

  “Of course.” She looked all outraged. “No kid should catch any adult doing the nasty. I thought I made that clear at the clubhouse.”

  Okay, so that felt… disappointing. “You turn my night lamp off?”

  Her eyes flitted from side to side. “Yes, I heard you scream and was worried. I thought you might settle better if it was dark.”

  “Clearly, I fucking didn’t.” I snapped, back to feeling aggrieved again at having my personal space violated.

  Her back went straight and I knew what was coming. “I didn’t know that,” she retorted. Before she said in a gentler tone, “What are they about?”

  I stood up. “None of your fucking business. Now, go to bed. And stay out of my room.”

  “Aren’t you going to bed?”

  There was no chance I was going back in that bedroom tonight; I needed a few hours alone. Hopefully the ghosts of all the people I’d slayed would get bored without me and fuck off, so I lied to her. “Yes. Night, Flick.”

  “Night, Beckett.”

  Sleep was now even further away. I was wired, and not just from my recurring dream. I could now add a visual of Flick’s lifeless body to my private horror story. That could have been really nasty. My hands shook; I could have fucking killed her, and what if it had been one of the kids? I’d have snapped a little neck in seconds.

  I watched as dawn came, the sun poking through the drapes and the only thing I could focus on was just how dangerous this was, how dangerous I was, and that the kids probably shouldn’t be around me. But my sister knew what she was doing when she left that fucking note, she was challenging my fucked-up psyche, gambling that my heart would win over the demons inside me and come good. What was she thinking? I needed to offload all of this, and there were only a handful of people I trusted. Mac would tell me to grab life before it got sucked away. Wave would never understand, he looked past the darkness that shrouded me every day, but Wolf, he would give me an honest answer and above all, he’d want to keep the kids safe. He’d fuck me over every day, if it meant saving the life of a kid who’d had a rough ride in life.

  “Talk,” Wolf growled, up in my space in five seconds flat.

  I sighed and looked at the spanner I’d discarded with intent and anger, narrowly missing him while he was on a trolley cart beneath the car I was working on. Totally in the danger zone, and it wasn’t just down to the shit swirling in my head, it was because I was too much a pussy to just come and ask for a chat. My mood had escalated and here we were. “Sorry, Prez.”

  “You need a break.”

  “I don’t.”

  He picked up a rag and began wiping his oily hands. “You apologized; you never fucking apologize to anyone. Take five.”

  “Don’t fucking tell me what I need.”

  I saw his eyes flash and as Wolf was a man on the same spectrum as me, death and destruction at one end, patience and control at the other, it was never a good thing to cause him to have to restrain his temper. Wolf might not have been as deadly as me—I’d killed more, maimed more, fuck I was like the doorman to hell’s nightclub—but Wolf, that deadly motherfucker was only a few paces behind me.

  “Everyone! Take five.”

  All my brothers dropped whatever they were doing and left. They weren’t stupid enough to challenge his authority or counter his demands, right now, I was the only stupid motherfucker here. “Prez…” I stopped and sighed, shaking my very tired, sleep deprived head.

  “Is it the new house mates?” He got straight down to detail, it was necessary, he’d just cleared his very busy workshop for me, and time was money.

  “Kinda.”

  “This could be good for you if you give them a chance.”

  “I’m… I’m not coping well with having my space invaded.”

  “You did alright when Mal and Wave stayed.”

  Neither of us really needed to say what I meant, he knew the situation, he’d had the pleasure of sharing a cell with me for a few years and he was the only one who’d ever fought back. When you put your hands around the throat of the then Carnals MC President, it usually had deadly consequences. Fortunately, he’d been listening to my nightmares for a good week before he decided to intervene. I’d been sent there after hospitalizing some cock in a bar. I was in a bad place; I’d just come out of the back end of black ops assignment that saw me killing a wife and a mother just to bring some cartel fuckhead into line and under the control of the government. The guy decided to get in my space repeatedly even though I asked them not to. Turns out that judges take a very dim view of trained soldiers taking the law into their own hands. Good job he didn’t know just how trained I was, or the things I’d really done, otherwise I’d still be in lock-up.

  “Wave knew how to tire Mal out and she never, you know… pushed with inane fucking questions.”

  Wolf grinned. “She’s under your skin; Little Miss. Prickly Pants is burrowing deep.”

  The brothers had taken on the nickname for her with pleasure. “It’s not a good place to be.”

  “Or maybe it’s just what you need.”

  I came to him because I didn’t expect this. I expected this from Mac, who was searching for his purpose, for his happily ever after. Now I was regretting this.

  “I don’t need someone seeing me like that.”

  Wolf leaned his ass against a work bench, crossed his legs at his ankles and looked at me. I knew his casualness was just an attempt to hide some truth he was about to deliver. “Hiding it is only fucking you up more. You need to let someone else ease that burden.”

  “No one needs to see the ugly shit I see.”

  “Time to let it go; get it out. Share the fucking load.”

  “It won’t end well.”

  “But it might,” he countered.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “And neither do you, brother.”

  Flick

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sleeping with one eye open.

  The first night I thought it was through fear, but that was bullshit. When he’d shown concern after he’d hurt me, it was the first glimpse of the Beckett I’d loved as a teenager.

  The Beckett Hope who gave me my first kiss against the tree by my childhood home.

  I’d spooked him, and I knew that guy would rather cut off his arm that hurt me willingly. I wasn’t sleeping because I was worried that he was suffering. I was worried he needed someone and had absolutely no one.

  In the days after, we settled into a routine and I likened it to a couple having marital problems. We were testing a trial separation, in separate bedrooms and being cordial for the sake of the kids. We were co-existing, friendly, and dare I say it, responsibly so.

  The kids had started school. Lila’s was nothing more than a glorified playgroup, she was learning through play, paint, and chalk, and any other messy substance she could get her hands on, in her hair and definitely all over her clothes. Her night terrors and dreams about her mother had mostly disappeared, but I still made sure that I read her a story every night and the princess or hero was always called Tracey. These kids would not forget their mom, I would never allow that to happen. Her cuddly unicorn was pretty much superglued to her side and
at some point, I was either going to have to buy a spare or figure out how to launder it overnight while she was asleep.

  Ben was still a little too closed off for my liking. He did exactly what was required of him and was zero trouble. Almost like he wasn’t convinced about the permanency of our living arrangements and I couldn’t blame him, because I didn’t know that either. Beckett Hope was a mystery most of the time and just when you thought you had a read on him, the world shifted. It always felt on edge, uneasy. Ben did his schoolwork, he got his homework done, ate meals politely and when he was asked a question he answered, but there was nothing more, he lacked fire and personality. If I didn’t crack through soon, I’d have to approach the subject and as much as I hated that the only way to do it was jointly with Beckett. Ben wouldn’t settle into this life if he didn’t think we had both as well.

  I still hadn’t found a job, so my days consisted of playing homemaker to kids who weren’t my kids, and a wife when I definitely wasn’t one of those. I had to find something to do or I would go nuts.

  The house was clean thanks to having little else to do, and it wasn’t an arduous task. If we ended up staying, I had visions of going wild in pottery barn and getting this place decked out and feeling a bit more lived in.

  I’d put some marinated chicken in the fridge, so it was quick to rustle together with some veggies when Beckett came home. He didn’t work a regular nine-to-five pattern, but generally made it home so we could eat together, and he could spend some time with the kids. I was carrying a load of laundry back to the bedrooms when I noticed Beckett’s bed was unmade. The sheets were ruffled and honestly, smelled a bit funky. If he sweat regularly anything like he did the night I found him, then it was hardly surprising. On a snap decision, and with nothing better to occupy my bleak, boring day, I stripped the bed and shoved the lot in the washer in his basement. As soon as I pushed the on button and heard it lock and fill with water, I regretted it, he’d already told me to stay out of his room and I knew without a doubt that I was overstepping the mark.

  Too late.