Devil's Pass
Page 2
The old dear who lived here was like a hundred and fifty so she never even noticed us sneaking onto her property and we never left much sign that we'd been here either. But we were always careful to stay fairly quiet just in case.
I hopped off and Maverick wheeled the bike into the trees to the side of the drive, leading the way down the well worn path around the edge of the property.
I glanced over my shoulder as a flash of red and blue caught my attention and I hissed at Maverick to hurry up as he quickly hid his bike behind a large oak tree.
I ducked down as the cop car turned onto the road and Rick dropped down beside me half a second later, taking my hand as we hid in the bushes and waited for it to pass on by.
My heart was pounding so fast that I could hear it thrashing against my eardrums, a shaky breath passing between my lips as I watched the car roll past.
When it moved on down the street and turned out of sight again I turned to look at Maverick, finding his dark eyes on me instead of the road, the look in them making my pulse skip as I bit down on my bottom lip.
"I think they're gone," I whispered.
"Yeah," he agreed, but neither of us moved for another moment.
The sound of a coyote howling in the distance drew my gaze away from his and Maverick stood, tugging me after him as we approached the gap in the fence which we'd used a hundred times before and slipped inside.
He didn't let go of me as he led me onto the Rosewood land, drawing me along with him as we headed for the summer house that we'd all claimed as our own a long time ago.
The little wooden building sat beside the pool and we slipped inside, glancing at the distant manor house where a single light glowed in a downstairs window as usual. I was pretty fond of the old woman who lived there – she was arguably the only adult in my life who actually gave a shit about me. Four years ago Miss Mabel had caught me and Chase sleeping in this summer house one night when his dad had been knocking him about and instead of kicking us out or calling the cops, she’d invited us up to the house, given us both a cup of hot cocoa and told us we were welcome to come whenever we liked so long as we were willing to do a few jobs for her. She’d even turned on the electricity for the summer house so we had lights out there whenever we came over. Last year we'd chased off a bunch of assholes who tried to egg her house on Halloween and gave them a good kicking for it too. I liked to know we were looking out for her, even though she didn't know about that specifically. Sometimes if we came up here during the day, we’d help her out with work in the yard and chat to her on her porch. She didn’t really have anyone which was something I could seriously relate to because aside from my boys, there wasn’t a single fucker in this world who gave a shit about me. And maybe in some small way our visits meant she was less alone, even on the nights we didn’t even go up to the house.
Miss Mabel had even gone one better than letting us hang out in her summer house and giving us sugary snacks whenever we swung by – she’d given us access to another building on her grounds. Right around the back of the property, the manor had a graveyard which included several family crypts dating back to the very first Rosewood to own this land.
Before his death, Daniel Rosewood had built the first crypt alongside a hidden treasury with a stone door which had five locks on it – one for each of his sons so that they could only come and claim the family fortune as a unit, keeping the family united. Over the years since, the treasure that had supposedly been kept in there had been taken out and the Rosewood heirs had handed their keys down when they died until only Mabel Rosewood was left to inherit them. The crypt was empty and derelict now and the five keys had been sitting in a drawer in her dining room, but after getting to know us, she’d gifted us one each so that we could use it how we wanted.
Mostly, we used it to store shit we stole that was too hot to pawn right away. But we’d also taken to hiding other things down there over the years, weapons and secrets and things that could be wielded against us or those we knew. All of it stashed away in case a day came when we might need to use them. There was something about there having been five keys that had always felt like fate to me, like they’d been destined to be ours. And even though the boys liked to laugh about that, I knew they coveted theirs too. The first thing I’d done after getting mine was hang it from a leather thong which I wore around my neck and I never took it off.
We moved inside and Rick pulled the summer house door closed behind us as I headed into the shadows before he switched the lights on. The place was cosy enough with little couches and a table, some playing cards and sodas left here for whenever we showed up. Miss Mable often left snacks out for us too because she was a freaking superstar.
I glanced down at my black shirt and cursed as I spotted the bright pink and orange paint coating it.
"Mary Beth is gonna have a fucking fit when she finds this in the wash," I groaned.
"I think it looks pretty cool," Maverick protested. "But we can't go back out there covered in paint while the cops are still hunting. Maybe Chase has left some of his shit here again. Then I can take the painty clothes back to mine and give them back to you once they’re clean and your evil step mother will never find out."
"Foster carer," I growled. "That bitch is no kind of mother to me."
"Mmm." Rick tugged his own paint covered shirt off and tossed it to the ground before starting to rummage through the stuff piled in the corner of the room.
"What the fuck is that?" I gasped, striding towards him as I spotted a black mark curving over his shoulder.
"What?" Maverick asked innocently. But innocent didn't sit right on him. Never had, never would.
I grabbed his arm and made him stand up and turn back to face me. He had a shirt in his hand which looked like it belonged to Chase, but my attention was fixed on the big ass tattoo he had scrawled over the entire left side of his chest.
"Come on, before the cops show up," Rick teased, ignoring the way I was staring at his new ink and grabbing the hem of my shirt before yanking it off of me.
I was so focused on the big ass tattoo he'd apparently gotten that I didn't even fight him and I shrieked in alarm a moment too late to stop him, throwing my arms around my chest as I found myself standing in front of him entirely topless.
"Shit," Rick breathed as he just kind of stared at me and my mouth opened and closed like a fucking fish as I cursed the world for the fact that I wasn't wearing a damn bra. But my stupid boobs kept growing and Mary Beth wouldn't give me my freaking clothing allowance until the end of the month so I'd just been making do, clearly not expecting my friends to tear my fucking clothes off of me.
"Do you just go around ripping people's clothes off all the damn time as well as getting secret tattoos?" I demanded as I tried to decide if I should grab for the clean shirt or just continue to shield my nipples until a hole opened up in the ground and swallowed me.
I was blushing, like burn the whole goddamn house down blushing, and Rick kinda looked like he was blushing a bit too but neither of us seemed to know how to proceed.
"Why the fuck aren't you wearing a bra?" was the choice he made and I scowled at him.
"I didn't know I had to run my underwear choices by you, asshole," I snarled. "You didn't see anything. Right?"
"Err, I kinda saw everything. And I hate to break it to you beautiful, but you've got really nice tits and I'm not going to be able to forget them. Ever. Like on the day I die, I will probably have a flashback to this moment and be like, damn-"
"I hate you," I growled.
"Alright, alright, I'll make it fair," he said, raising his hands in surrender as I narrowed my eyes on him.
Maverick grinned at me in a way that always meant trouble, kicked his shoes off, unbuckled his belt and dropped his jeans, boxers, the whole freaking lot before stepping out of them and just standing there butt naked.
My mouth fell open as I found myself face to face with his dick and I couldn't actually force myself to look away from it.
"Are they always that big?" I asked because how the fuck was one of those supposed to fit inside me?? Or not me specifically. But someone. Or no, me…I mean, me was better than someone else anyway so it would have to be me. Maybe.
Rick grinned way too widely at that question and shrugged. "Well, like I said, beautiful, you've got really nice tits and I can't say I've really seen all that many in person so..."
"Right. Yeah. Umm..." I was looking at it again and maybe it was rude but we were friends and perhaps that meant it didn't matter. Right? Except I was kinda feeling weirdly hot and I was almost certain that if I wanted to stop being rude, I should stop shielding my tits from him but I wasn't quite as confident in my body as Maverick apparently was.
"I mean, I'd like to think it's also big generally, not just because it's hard," he said and I about died.
"When the fuck did you get a tattoo?" I tossed back, forcing him to change the subject, my gaze lifting to the tribal design sprawling across half of his chest which he definitely hadn't had the last time we'd gone surfing.
"I wanted to surprise you guys once it was healed. But it's pretty much there now. I convinced one of Luther's guys to give it to me when he was drunk last week."
"So you got some drunk drug pusher to mark your body for life like a fucking crazy person?" I summarised and he cracked a grin.
"Are you jealous?"
"Fuck yes. Get him to give me one next. Plus I'm pissed at you because you swore we'd get our first together." I pouted at him and he pushed his tongue into his cheek as he took a step closer to me.
"I'm sorry," he said, giving me that false innocent look again and reaching out to touch my arm, his fingers trailing down my skin slowly and making me shiver. "We can have another first together instead."
"Like what?" I asked but my voice came out kinda rough and the look Maverick gave me made me think he might mean something a whole lot bigger of a deal than some dumb tattoos.
Maverick seemed to realise that we shouldn't really be joking about that and dropped the smirk.
"You do know all four of us are in love with you, right?" he murmured, his hand shifting to my cheek. "One day you'll have to choose between us."
"I won't," I disagreed, shaking my head because the mere suggestion of that was unthinkable. Me and the boys would be together forever, it was written into our souls. I couldn't pick between them any more than I could pick between stars in the sky. "All of us belong together. I wouldn't do that."
"You will," he said, a sad smile touching his lips as he pulled his hand back again and I didn't know if I wanted him to keep away or touch me more. "And that will be the end of it all. This little bubble of perfect we're living in dashed to pieces by that choice."
"I love all of you," I said more firmly.
"Yeah," he agreed. "But one day I think you'll love one of us more than the others. And I'm kinda hoping it'll be me."
I winced at the sound of my dad shouting at my momma downstairs and pushed to my feet, kicking on my worn sneakers.
The thing I'd learned from being my dad's kid was that being too small to fight back meant you'd better get good at running fast. I'd filled out more this last year than I had in the past five and shot up half a foot too. Now I looked my dad in the eye, but I still couldn't pack a punch like he could.
"He's a lazy piece of shit, just like you," my dad slurred.
It was late, and he was drunk. Didn't make a whole lot of difference whether it was eight pm or eight am. He was always drinking and when he wasn't drinking, he was either sleeping or crying.
Things hadn't been so bad when I was younger before he got laid off work. Me and Momma would spend time together, play on the beach and build castles in the sand. We didn't do that so much anymore. Now that he was home all the time, he got jealous if she spoke to me more than him. I didn't know what he expected me to do. I was her kid, not her fucking boyfriend. But my dad didn't like it when the attention wasn't all on him and his depression.
We barely scraped by on the occasional jobs Dad took down at the harbour and he refused to let Momma work even though she was far more able than he was. I didn't need his charity anymore though. I got by stealing, taking what I needed to fill my belly and Momma's too whenever I could. But I could never risk bringing food home when he was here. He took it as a fucking insult upon his manhood. But if he was such a man, maybe he should have provided for his damn family.
I grabbed a bag, stuffing some clothes in it along with my phone and keys before pushing out the door and creeping quietly onto the landing. My gut clenched as Dad's voice filled the house once more, his dominating aura seeping everywhere, right down to the peeling wallpaper.
"He's a good for nothin', worthless cunt," Dad growled and my spine straightened, hate inching through my blood. "I shoulda punched you in the stomach to rid us of that burden livin' upstairs, leechin' off of us. We were happy before he came along.”
"Just leave him alone, Michael," Momma urged, a quaver of fear in her voice.
I loved her for those words, but sometimes I hated her for how little she really stood up to him. She talked a good game about loving me, but when it came down to it, she never physically tried to stop him. Once upon a time, I'd begged her to leave him until my throat was raw, even considered running myself. But then I thought of abandoning her to him and I just...couldn't. So I comforted myself with the fact that one day I'd be big enough and strong enough to take him on myself. And one day he'd regret not killing me when he had the chance.
I crept downstairs quietly, praying for the shadows to cling to me and keep me hidden. The house was small, just an old wooden house on the shittiest corner of town. Everything in this place creaked, but I knew where to place my feet to remain silent as I moved, I'd adapted to my environment like the street dogs in town had adapted to theirs. The ones who survived built a pack of their own. And so had I.
"Boy!" my dad's booming voice made my heart crush like it was held in his fist. I paused on the stairs, holding my breath. "Get down here!" he hollered.
I ran, leaping down the final few steps and racing into the kitchen. I made it to the back door, yanking it open and sprinting down the steps into our overgrown garden. I rounded the house, grabbing my bike as I fumbled to unlock the gate.
My dad's strong hands latched around my shoulders, wheeling me around and throwing me to the ground. My heart lurched into my throat as I tried to scramble away but his fist slammed into my cheek, making my head ring from the impact as the back of it hit the ground. Dad hauled me back inside while I fought to get his hands off of me and he dragged me to my feet in our shitty little kitchen which smelled of lemons since Momma had tried to cover the scent of the mould crawling across the ceiling.
Dad shoved me back against the refrigerator and Momma screamed somewhere to my right. I stared at my dad with my upper lip peeled back; his thinning grey hair was overgrown just like his beard and his eyes were bloodshot from the PBR he'd drunk. Always the same. The cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon were scattered around the house like confetti and it looked like my dad's demons were ready to party.
"You wanna run from me, boy?" he spat, his muscles bunching as he wrapped a hand around my throat. I wanted to shove and hit him, but fear was making me freeze up. As much as I longed to be bigger and stronger, to destroy this monster who tormented me and my momma, I was always reduced to this frightened fucking kid when he had me in his grip. The older I got, the more brutal his blows became, the more I feared he might just go too far and see through on his threats to get rid of me. "You're not man enough to face me," he growled. "You're weak. Pathetic."
"Michael!" Momma wailed. "Let him go. He's just a boy."
"You hear that, Chase?" Dad growled. "Your momma says you're just a boy, that still true? 'Cause you're gettin' taller every day and I see that look in your eye..."
I s
hoved him with a shout of effort, but his fist slammed into my gut and took the wind out of me.
"You think you're a man now, huh? Show me what a man you are then," he laughed coldly.
"Let go of me," I snarled through my teeth, gripping his wrist as his fingers tightened around my throat.
He shoved me to the floor at my momma's feet and I cursed as I stared up at his dark silhouette, the exposed bulb hanging behind him meaning his face was cast in shadow.
"You're not mine," he hissed, the same old shit coming out of his mouth as usual. "He's not mine, Amber, is he? Look at him, he's a weak piece of shit. Who was it then? Who fucking was it?!"
I pushed myself to my feet as he stalked towards my momma, placing myself between them as I glared at him. My heart beat erratically and sweat was breaking out on my brow, but I wouldn't let him hurt her. Not this time.
"Get outta my way, you little cunt," he snapped and a tremor ran through me, but I didn't move.
"It's alright baby, it's alright," Momma cooed and for a second I thought she was talking to me before she hurried toward my dad, clutching his arm with one hand while cupping his cheek with the other. It cut deep seeing her run to him like that. Like he was right and we were in the wrong. "I'd never betray you. He's your boy. And he's a good boy."
Dad grunted, but didn't push her away, his eyes trailing down her body with a possessive, toxic kind of desire. My upper lip peeled back and my hands started to shake.
"Come on baby, come upstairs with me," Momma urged him, pulling him by the hand and guiding him past me.
I clenched my teeth, blinking back tears as I stared after them and she threw me a look that said go.
My throat burned and everything inside me hurt far more than any of the bruises left on my flesh ever could. Sometimes I really did wanna run and never look back. Maybe she'd be better off here without me. Maybe I really was the cause of all their problems.
I released a heavy breath and forced myself to keep my head as I shoved out the back door, hurried around the house and unlocked the gate. I started riding down the road, peddling faster and faster as I worked to put as much distance between myself and that fucking house as I possibly could.