by Jessa Kane
She has me.
I’m not letting her fall.
Coming to my feet, I watch the dot moving on the screen, letting me know she’s on the move, thanks to the tracking device I put in her phone last night when she finally fell asleep.
When I realize where she’s headed, I mutter a curse and snatch up my keys, running for the door.
4
London
The Devil’s Den is the place to go in town when you’re looking for trouble.
I should know, since most of my youth was spent in there, beneath the freeway overpass. From a distance, I can see that it’s the same old characters leaned up against a beat up Chrysler, passing around cigarettes and something stronger. My most recent stint in juvenile hall was six months after helping fence some stolen iPhones, so I haven’t seen these idiots in a while.
That’s exactly what they are. Idiots.
The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result—and that’s what they do. Committing petty crimes, thinking they won’t get caught. At least I know I’m going to get caught. I’m well aware that the cops are going to come straight to the Devil’s Den and pull us in for a lineup as soon as the crime is committed.
I’ve had a lot of time to think over the last six months. Knowing I will be put in real prison next time I do something illegal has made me pretty introspective. And I’ve started to ask myself, why? Why do I continually let these criminals include me in their activities when I know it’s only going to land me in a cell?
Growing up, I was always shuffled to the side. Pawned off on neighbors, friends, the barest acquaintances, while my mother vamoosed with new boyfriends. For so long, going to juvenile hall was my way of controlling where I ended up. Instead of being put somewhere, like a sack of useless sand. Like someone who only gets in the way.
Now, though…I’m an adult. I can still control where I end up, but I no longer have to find refuge from my mother’s whims and her sketchy boyfriends behind bars.
What if I can actually make something of myself?
I’ve never allowed myself to wonder, but dammit, Brody got in my head.
I think that’s why I’m here, across the street from the Devil’s Den, trying to psyche myself up to make my triumphant return. Because I’m scared.
Shit. I hate admitting that.
This is what I know, though. I know how to mess up, get sent away, continue the pattern. It’s been my safety net for so long, but I’m not a kid anymore. The consequences are more severe. Am I really willing to chance prison so I don’t have to expect more from myself?
You’re young, London. People have started over a lot later in life. It doesn’t hurt to fill out an application or two. You can make it happen.
Brody’s voice stops me from taking the first step across the street.
Unbelievable.
My stepfather’s encouragement is actually working on me. How pathetic.
What would he gain from my success, anyway?
What is his angle?
I’ve never been anything but a burden to my mother’s significant others. I don’t understand why Brody is different. Or how he could want so much for me when we’ve only just met for the first time.
With that thought weighing heavily on my mind, I decide to put off my return to the Devil’s Den for another day, and turn to head back to the bus stop—
“London!”
Someone calls my name from across the street and a loud cheer goes up from the dozen or so teens and twenty-something’s loitering beneath the freeway overpass. I can’t help but feel a spark of warmth in my chest over their earnest reception. Despite their mental shortcomings, these people were here on the days and nights when I had no one at all. So despite the tug of foreboding in my stomach, I execute a sweeping bow and pirouette across the street to a soundtrack of thunderous applause.
“You’re back. How was the slammer?”
“Looking hot, as always, blondie.”
“Did you bring us presents?”
The unofficial leader of the group is Lurch, thanks to his height and slightly curved upper spine. He steps forward and ruffles my hair now, leaving a cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. “Hey, London,” he drawls, giving me a speculative once over. “You’re just in time.”
That seedling of trepidation in my belly grows roots. “For what?”
A couple of them trade looks.
Lurch tosses down his cigarette, grounding it out with the toe of his boot. “We’re going on a run. Nothing major.”
“Yeah, nothing major,” a girl to his right echoes.
I keep my expression neutral, but I’m wishing I’d just stayed home. Maybe filled out another engineering school application. Not that I expect to be accepted anywhere, but I have to admit…it had felt good to complete the form and send it. Felt good to try. “What is nothing major?” I ask, blithely.
“You always were a good wheel woman, weren’t you, blondie?”
“London,” I say tightly. “And I’m not really…prepared for a run. Not today.”
There’s a shift in the energy around me. I know how this goes. Once you’re in this world, you’re completely in. Or you have to get out, free and clear. There is no in between and that’s where I’m standing right now. “It’s just a beer run,” Lurch says, holding up his gloved hands. “The weekend is coming up and we’re low on supply. Tommy and Grinch have a contact at Walmart. He’s going to open the exit door, so we can get in and out without a problem.” He claps me on the shoulder and a shiver runs down to my wrist. “You drive.”
They don’t need me. There are plenty of options for drivers.
This is just their way of pulling me back in.
“Ah…” I plow my fingers through my hair and back away. “You know, actually, I have plans this afternoon. I really just came by to say hey—”
“What are you…going straight?” Lurch laughs while lighting another smoke. “Aren’t you the girl who drove a stolen police car into a lake on her sixteenth birthday?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell them it was an accident—at least the lake crashing part—but everyone is already laughing and I have no choice but to laugh, too, or look salty. Yes, I did steal the police car. I was desperate. My mother was getting ready to leave me with her ex-boyfriend’s sister, who I’d never met. And I was scared, angry, young and reckless.
“Yeah…” Someone else pipes up. “Didn’t you once chain yourself to the door of city hall to protest the circus coming to town?”
“Then take a swing at the mayor when he tried to unlock the chains?”
More laughter.
I don’t tell them that the mayor groped me while trying to unfasten those chains, his clammy hands roving beneath my belly button and over my breasts, squeezing until I cried.
The words die in my throat because I realize…I am one of these idiots. A lot of the times I was taken into custody, I was acting out so they would take me out of my mother’s care. Other times, like protesting the circus, I really cared about the cause. But none of that matters. What matters is that every stupid thing I’ve done is a stain on my reputation.
Lurch holds out the keys to the Chrysler, raising an eyebrow.
Waiting for me to take them.
They’re right.
I was crazy to think I could overcome my past now, wasn’t I?
Still, Brody’s voice in my head makes me hesitate, my fingers pausing over the keys. Maybe…maybe if I call him, he’ll help me? He’s so confident. Bossy.
He’ll know exactly what to do and—
They all start pushing me toward the car, playfully, but I can’t get away. I laugh and push back, but I’m already being nudged into the driver’s seat, keys tossed into my lap. The door slams, Tommy and Grinch piling into the back seat, Lurch in the passenger side.
Okay. One run and I’ll never come back. I’ll try. I will.
I’ll fill out applications and
let Brody convince me I have potential.
What’s the worst that can happen?
Oh. A lot, apparently.
5
Brody
When the call goes out from dispatch, a pit opens in my stomach.
Five suspects in custody.
Robbery.
The more I listen to the chatter between the dispatcher and the responding officers, the more I learn. An employee of the store is also being held on suspicion to aid and abet the robbery. The entire offense was caught on CCTV. No mention of London, but I know she’s among the five suspects. I know it.
I’m driving like a bat out of hell from the other side of town, hitting the gas through red lights and turning corners on two wheels. She must have left her phone at the Devil’s Den, because I tracked her there only to find her gone, a bunch of punk kids in her place, none of them willing to talk. More than anything, I just want to concentrate on getting to her and making everything okay, but I refuse to take her safety or freedom for granted. Picking up the radio, I bark into the receiver. “If one of the suspects is London Allen, keep her at the scene until I get there.”
A crackle comes from my dashboard mounted radio. “Copy that, Captain.” A long pause, followed by a snicker. “It’s London, all right. Didn’t know she was back in town. Girl’s always been trouble—”
“Don’t question her. Don’t even look at her.” The muscles in my throat are strained. “Do you copy?”
His tone changes abruptly. “Yes, Captain.”
I slam the radio back into its perch and peel into the parking lot where the robbery took place. Red and blue lights flash in the alley behind the Walmart and with a squeal of tires, I’m parked and exiting the vehicle, ignoring shouts of my name and storming toward the row of suspects lined up on the curb.
There she is.
Handcuffed in the middle of street scum, like a diamond mistakenly dropped among ashes. Her cornflower eyes find me immediately, then zip away, her chin turning stubborn. The tip of her nose turns red, though, giving her away—and my heart turns over.
Goddammit. This is my fault.
I came on too strong.
Didn’t give her a chance to trust me before I started asking her to consider the future. My poor girl probably got scared to death. Of course she fell back on bad habits. It was too much, too soon. Fix it.
Clearing my throat hard, I turn to the closest officer. “I’ll bring London Allen down the station and take her statement myself.”
“Keep a close eye on your keys,” warns the officer, smirking. “She’s been known to steal cop cars and take them for a swim.” He turns his back to the row of suspects and lowers his voice. “I wouldn’t mind taking her for a little joy ride, if you know what I mean.”
Rage makes my eye tick. “She’s my stepdaughter.”
The color drains from his face. “Jesus, I didn’t know—”
“Go near her and I’ll saw your dick off with a butter knife. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Captain.”
My hands shake with the need to wrap around his throat. “Get the fuck out of my sight. And if I hear that kind of filth out of you again, about anyone, I’ll have your badge.”
Head down, he scurries away and I waste no time approaching London. Though she’s stiff as a board, I help her stand and walk her to my police car, loading her into the backseat. I’m desperate to get the cuffs off her wrists, but I’m already putting myself under speculation with this personal treatment of my stepdaughter; releasing her too quickly would put me in jeopardy with internal affairs. I have no choice but to bring her to the station and take her statement. But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let this angel spend another second behind bars.
On the drive to the station, the car is silent, thanks mostly to the thick partition between us. I suspect she would have stayed quiet no matter what, but I can’t tell if her pride has been stung or if she’s pissed over getting caught.
Minutes later, I lead her through the back of the police building into a private interrogation room and finally allow myself to touch her. Making sure the room is locked and there is no one on the other side of the glass, I grip her waist and lift her onto the edge of the metal interrogation table, curling my fingers into fists before I give in to temptation and skim them up her smooth thighs.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she bites off, still refusing to look at me.
I’m not having it. I capture her chin and lift, giving her no choice but to look me in the face. “What happened?”
She rolls her eyes. “You know what happened.”
“I want to hear it from you.”
Puzzlement shifts her features. “Why?”
It pains me that she seems genuinely confused. “You don’t think your side of the story matters?”
“It never has before.”
“It does now.” I brush my thumb along the curve of her jaw. “It matters with me.”
She searches my face. “Why?”
Because I’m going to love you, make you mine, keep you forever. You don’t know it yet but you’re looking at the man who is hungry for you every second of the fucking day. It’s too soon to spring any of that on her, though. Look what happened the last time I got impatient. She hauls off and robs a goddamn Walmart. “It matters because you’re my stepdaughter. That makes you my responsibility.”
“Is it your responsibility to touch me like you did this morning?” she challenges, huskily.
I fist the sides of her jean skirt and yank her closer to the edge of the table, making her gasp. “You wrapped your legs around me, little girl, if you remember.”
“I remember,” she breathes, quickly shaking herself. “What’s the point of telling you my side of what happened if you’re not going to believe me?”
“What makes you so sure?”
“No one ever does. Ever.” Pink climbs her cheeks. “I heard that officer laughing about the time I drove the police car into a lake. It was a stupid thing to do. I know that, but…there was a deer in the road. That’s why I swerved and ended up…never mind.”
“Keep going.”
“That’s why I drove it into the lake. Not to destroy property. I barely made it out of the car in time myself.” That nugget of truth pulls a choked sound out of me. For a moment, all I can see is London crawling out through the window of a police car, water pouring in from all sides, and it rattles me to the core. “I’ve done some reckless things, but I meant well some of the time.”
Her voice cracks on the final word and I can’t help it, I trace her temple with my open mouth, planting a kiss on her hairline. “Of course you did.”
“I just wanted to be in control of something. Everything, my whole life, every second of it, felt so…changeable. At a moment’s notice.”
I pull her close and she rests the side of her face on my chest, relaxing against me completely when my hands start to trace circles on her back.
“If you really want to know what happened today…”
“I do.”
She lets out a slow breath. “I fell back into my old pattern. There I was again…pawned off on another one of my mother’s men. Sometimes it feels good to be self-destructive when the alternative is sitting there and acknowledging how terrible I feel. You know? But…”
My palm slips under her T-shirt and drags up her spine, causing her to shiver against me. “But what, baby?”
Her nipples turn erect against my chest and she tries to draw her thighs together, but I block their progress with my hips, slowly urging them wider by stepping closer, resting the ridge of my cock against her lacy pink panties.
London draws back slightly, looking up at me, dazed. “I tried to say no and walk away, because I thought of you. I wanted to call you to come help me. I’ve never even thought of doing that before with anyone.” Moisture swims into her blue eyes. “I didn’t want to do it. I changed my mind, but I got stuck. And then everything happened so fast—”
&n
bsp; “I believe you,” I say without hesitating.
And it’s not just a line. I do.
It’s about time someone did.
About time someone took a look at the setbacks she’s been facing since birth and marveled over how bright she’s become despite it all.
“You…do?” London whispers.
“Yes.”
Her eyes briefly stray toward the door. “But they won’t. I’ll still have to get booked and go in front of a judge. Tried as an adult—”
“No, London. I won’t let that happen.” I wrap her long blonde hair around my fist and tug lightly, watching her perfect lips puff open. “Repeat after me. My stepfather is going to take care of it.”
Her tits rise and fall quickly, her back arched thanks to her hands still being cuffed behind her, pushing those little globes against the front of her thin T-shirt, displaying her puckered nipples like works of art. “My stepfather is going to take care of it.”
God help me, I told myself I’d take this slower, but she’s so sweet with tears in her eyes, her body opened to me like the petals of a flower. We’re alone in this darkened, locked room and she’s just shown me the first sign of trust. Her admission that she almost called me, that she second guessed her actions, might not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but it’s a huge step for us. It’s a foundation.
I can’t stop myself from lowering my mouth to hers, brushing my lips side to side on top of her gasping ones. “As your stepfather, I should comfort you in times like this, shouldn’t I? When you’ve been upset?”
Slowly, she nods. “Yes.”
I push closer, pinning my hard dick between her panty-covered cunt and my belly. “Are you comforted by kisses, little girl?”
She whimpers. “I don’t know, I’ve never kissed anyone.”
A moan kindles in my chest. “If you want your first, you better offer me your tongue.”
Her breaths are racing now, but that tongue does sneak out to wet her lips, remaining perched there on her lower lip, her eyes on me obediently.
