by Linda Kage
The door closed, separating her from me permanently. I was left with both her parents and the sheriff.
“What’s going on here, Abbott?” the sheriff asked, eyeing me warily. “Looks like you roughed the boy up. And why is he tied to a chair?”
“We had to restrain him because he hit my oldest son, Maxwell, first. Everything that happened to his face was done in self-defense after that.”
I could tell from the sheriff’s expression that he didn’t believe Bainbridge’s story, but he didn’t question it. “And what caused the whole attack? Did he trespass again?”
“No. It’s worse. He raped my daughter.”
The sheriff whirled to gape at me. “Is that true, kid?”
I glanced toward the closed door, the last place I’d seen City. The pink-forming bruise on her face implanted itself into my head.
Then I looked to her father. His stare bore into me.
Hoping upon hope that he had at least one honorable bone in his body, I returned my attention to the sheriff. “Yeah. I forced her.”
I guess Pick decided it was okay to put me on the same schedule with Felicity after I agreed to live with her, because that night we had to work together.
I dreaded it. After spending most of the day at the gym, stewing in my guilt and avoiding her so I couldn’t hurt her any more than I already had, I came home to shower and change. I was just pulling on my shirt when she quietly tapped on my door.
After tugging the shirt the rest of the way down and drawing in a bracing breath, I opened my door. She was already in her Forbidden shirt aa well, with tight black pants and her hair pulled up with butterfly clips.
Lifting her chin, probably to appear more distant, she said, “I was just about to head out and wondered if you wanted a ride too, since we’re going to the same place.”
I still felt shitty about hurting her earlier, and declining her offer would be pointless. So I nodded and mumbled a quiet, “Okay. Thanks.”
Following her out the door felt surreal. We were leaving our apartment together, in public, and spending the evening in the same vicinity. It was everything I’d ever hoped for, and yet, it was all wrong. I jammed my hands into my pockets, maudlin, and let myself feel resentment about everything we could’ve had together but now couldn’t because I could no longer be the person able to give her what her heart desired most.
She wanted everything; my heart, soul, dreams, fears, secrets, thoughts. And though some of those things she’d always have, others I was now too guarded to share, too scared to reveal, too smart to let loose and scar her too.
“You’ll, uh...just wait here a second,” she said as I approached the passenger side door of her car. “I have to crawl through my way and open your door from the inside. It sticks.”
I nodded and waited until she climbed in through her driver’s side door and then used her shoulder and all her might to heave mine open.
Sending me a rueful grin as I got in beside her, she tried to start the engine, pumping the gas to get it to finally fire to life. “Far cry from the Audi, huh?”
“Still nicer than any ride I ever owned,” I told her, since I’d never owned any car.
After waiting until the engine was ready, she put the car into drive. “That Audi was really the only thing I missed after I left home.”
I glanced at her, remembering the smell of leather and roar of the engine when I’d gunned it. Then I remembered what had happened after we’d parked it.
Yeah, it had been a sweet ride.
“Lots of good memories in that car,” she said. “Lost my virginity in it. Was proposed to in it.”
I didn’t realize I’d clutched my chest until my palm was pressing hard against my heart, hoping the organ didn’t crumble on the spot. I felt it tearing, though, splitting apart as her words echoed through my head and bruised my conscience.
I couldn’t speak until we reached the parking lot across the street from the club and Felicity opened the driver’s door.
“I’m sorry,” I said so quietly I kind of hoped she didn’t hear me.
But she paused and glanced back. “For what?”
“For not being able to keep all the promises I made to you that night.”
The only promise I knew for sure that I’d kept was that I still loved her, for all the good that accomplished.
“I’m sorry, too,” she murmured. “I’m sorry you don’t think you can keep them, even though I know you really could.”
After she got out, shut her door, and stalked away, I stared after her, aching and wishing I really could return to being the Knox she’d once known.
But he was dead.
“No, I can’t,” I whispered and finally got out of the car too.
It was a busy night, thank God. I worked the bar with Noel, who made sure to tell me he did not agree with Pick’s decision to move Felicity and me in together. Then he warned me if I hurt her, I’d regret it. Other than that, business was too hectic for us to chitchat. Asher’s band played, and the number of female fans he’d collected in the past few weeks made the place more crowded than I’d ever seen it before. They chanted for him to play his song about the girl in the Incubus shirt, but he absolutely refused. Instead, he played something else that was new.
Felicity avoided me altogether, taking her orders to Noel. I had to admit, I hated the distance more than I was grateful that she was finally keeping it.
I couldn’t take much more of the constant tug-of-war inside me. I’d been a fool to think I could get this close to her and not be close to her.
After the doors closed, only the workers and band members lingered. I was putting away cleaned cups when the drummer approached.
From across the room and up on stage, I hadn’t gotten a good look at him before, hadn’t even paid attention to any of the other members aside from Asher. But as he plopped onto the stool across the counter from me and asked for a Bud Light in a bottle, I shook my head, unable to believe I was seeing what I was actually seeing.
I asked for his identification, and he gave me some lip about how all the other bartenders had just given him a drink without harassing him first. But I held out a hand and arched an eyebrow, because I had to see what the name would say, even though I was sure I already knew.
He growled out a sound, but dug into his wallet and handed me a piece of plastic. The name read Rock Parkinson, which made me snort.
“Nice ID.” I handed it back with two fingers. “It almost looks real.”
“What the hell?” The kid scowled. “It is real, fucker. What’re you trying to say? You think I’m not old enough to drink a goddamn beer?”
“That’s exactly what I think,” I spit back. “Because I know you’re only eighteen...Rocket.”
His mouth fell open.
“But I guess you’re going by just Rock now. The Parkinson part, though?” I sniffed in disdain. “Honestly, I would’ve chosen something as far from Parker as possible if I were you.”
“What the...fuck?” He shook his head, boggled. “Do I know you?”
“You should. I’m your brother.”
He flew off the stool, gaping at me as he backed away. “What? That’s not...” Then he fell to a stop before cocking his head to the side and whispering, “Knox?”
A strange elation rippled through my chest. My brother. I’d found one of my brothers. I wanted to leap over the counter and yank him into a hug, and yet a gut feeling told me to keep it cool. Distant. So I followed my gut. “Been a while, huh?”
“What...how...holy shit? When’d you get out?”
“Couple weeks ago,” I said. “I didn’t learn about...everyone until I was released. When I heard you and Cobra were still alive, I tried to find you.”
“Yeah, well...I changed my name, and Cobe ran off to Texas or some shit to join one of them Holy Roller communes. Haven’t heard from him in over a year.”
I nodded, wondering if I could locate our youngest brother after learning that. I hoped so.
“This i
s just fucking awesome that you’re finally out,” Rocket went on, his eyes igniting with excitement as he lowered his voice. “Now we can get those Bainbridge fuckers together.”
I pulled back, startled to hear him say any such thing. “Excuse me?”
I’d been expecting something more along the lines of hearing how he was doing, when he’d learned to play the drums, where he’d been staying, if he was happy. But he went straight to something like that.
He slapped the bar top in front of me. “Man, they put you in jail. They knocked up Mercy. They burned down our house. Every bad thing that ever happened to us was because of them. I say it’s time for some fucking payback.”
I shook my head, utterly confused. “What do you mean, they burned down our house?”
Rocket snorted, rolled his eyes, and waved a hand. “Oh, the sheriff and fire marshal and everyone else on God’s green earth pardoned them, saying they all had alibis, but I know...I know it burned because of them.”
Horror filled me. My mother, Mercedes, Bentley, Speed were gone because— “Are you saying the fire was arson?”
“Well, it had to have been, hadn’t it?” Determination and a sick obsession filled Rocket’s eyes as he leaned closer. “Those bastards always wanted us gone. Well, they finally did it. But there’s two of us still left. Two of us to take them out. For good.”
I started to shake my head—the kid was batshit crazy—when Felicity appeared, only five feet away from him. “Knox. I’ve got my stations cleaned. You about ready to go?”
Tensing as Rocket turned slowly to glare at her with pure hatred, I opened my mouth but no words came. I wanted to warn her to get away from him because he wanted to do her entire family harm. But he was my brother. I didn’t want to believe he’d hurt her.
So I nodded without saying a thing.
She brightened. “Cool. I’ll go get my purse. Be right back.”
As she disappeared down the back hall, I was prepared to leap over the bar and tackle Rocket if he followed her. But he didn’t. Instead, he turned to pierce me with a look of absolute hatred.
“So that’s how it is, then? You’re with them now? Fucking a fuckin’ Bainbridge?”
I pointed a finger at him. “Don’t talk about her that way.”
Rocket sniffed. “Wow, the slut must have some kind a golden pussy. She put you in jail, and you’re still hot after her?”
“Watch your fucking mouth, Rocket. She’s not a slut, and she didn’t put me in jail. Her father did.”
“Same difference.” He huffed and turned as if looking at me was too much for him to handle now that he thought I was some kind of redcoat.
“It’s not even in the same universe of difference,” I growled.
He turned back to me. “She doesn’t have a clue who I am.”
I shrugged. “Why would she? You were twelve, and our families didn’t exactly have picnics and get-togethers.”
“I know the name of every fucking member of her family.”
“She’s not even associated with them anymore. She’s not one of them.”
He didn’t seem to care and had stopped listening to me the moment he’d seen Felicity talk to me. “God, you are such a disappointment. I was so sure you’d be different.”
I clenched my teeth. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You spent six years in prison, man. I’ve been to county lockup for a couple of months myself, and it sucked ass. But you...you’ve done the real thing. They put you in fucking hell.”
I knew that. I knew it better than he could probably ever imagine.
“Don’t you want some vengeance for what they’ve done to us?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t. I just want to put all that shit behind me and get on with my life. And besides, she’s not one of them.”
I’m not sure why I kept repeating that. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if she were still an active part of her family. It wouldn’t change the way I loved her.
Maybe I was just trying to warn Rocket away. Because the moment he’d glared at her, he’d become my enemy.
He didn’t seem to get the memo, though. “Well, kudos to you, man. I wish I could be so goddamn forgiving. They took our entire fucking family away. I’m not going to let that go.”
He turned away and stormed off.
“Rocket,” I growled after him.
“I’m not Rocket anymore.” He glanced back at me with a cold glare. “And you’re not my brother.”
I sighed, but let him go, because I agreed. We were no longer kin.
“Ready?” Felicity said, making me jump.
I glanced at her and could tell from the innocent lift of her eyebrows that she hadn’t overheard anything. That old urge rose to unload everything that had just happened on her, but I pushed it down. With a slight nod, I set the glasses I’d yet to put away to the side and started around the bar.
Asher reached us, just as I reached Felicity.
“Hey, why’d Rock tear out of here so fast?”
“Who?” Felicity asked, digging her keys from her purse.
“Rock,” Asher repeated. “The drummer in my band.”
“Oh. Is that his name?” She tossed the keys and caught them in the same hand. “Guess I didn’t know; we’ve never actually talked.”
Realizing she had no answer, Asher glanced at me.
I didn’t know what to tell him—I wasn’t sure if I wanted to advertise that we were brothers after what had just gone down. So I merely shrugged.
“Hmm.” He scowled thoughtfully. “Oh well.” He started to turn away but Felicity called after him.
“Hey, by the way. I loved the song you wrote for Pick.”
Asher slowed to a stop and then turned back, squinting. “What song?”
“Ceilings, the one about the girl who...” He was frowning at her so hard she stopped talking. Then she delicately cleared her throat. “You wrote that song about the girl leaving her baby at the hospital, right?”
Asher’s confused scowl deepened. “Yeah,” he drew out the answer deliberately.
“Well...” Felicity fidgeted, jiggling her keys. “Wasn’t it about Pick?”
“Why would that be about Pick? It was about a girl.”
“You know...I mean, don’t you know?” She turned to me, looking lost. “Doesn’t everyone know?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I doubt he went to the same school as us. Maybe he doesn’t know.”
Asher waved his hands. “Will someone please explain to me what you’re talking about? What don’t I know?”
“I’m sorry.” Felicity cringed. “It’s just...well, Pick was abandoned at the hospital by his mother when he was born. He spent his entire life in foster care. We, uh, Knox and I were younger than him in school, but everyone knew about it.”
Mouth falling open, Asher gaped at her. The shock on his face told us this was news to him.
Felicity sent me a worried glance before turning back to him. “You seriously didn’t know about that?”
Asher continued to look dazed. Then he finally shook his head and gave a distracted, “No. I...I had no idea.”
“Then who was the song about?”
“What?” He glanced at her sharply. “No one. I just...I made it up.” Scrubbing at the back of his head, he glanced at his wrist, which did not contain a watch. “Shit. I’m late for a...thing. I gotta go. See you.”
As he spun away and hurried off, Felicity stared after him before turning to me. “He didn’t just make that song up, did he?”
“Doubt it.”
She huffed out a breath. “Well, now I’m really curious who it was about. Do you think that happened to him too? His mom left him at the hospital when he was born? That would be totally wicked.”
I opened my mouth to say maybe when I remembered the first night I’d met Asher. “His dad killed his mom,” I blurted.
She whirled to me. “What?”
“The first night I worked with him, he asked me if I knew a
guy from prison. I knew who he was talking about and that the guy was in there for killing his wife. Asher told me it was his dad.”
She gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Holy...oh my God. Poor Asher. I had no idea.”
“Yeah.” I glanced after the singer. “I guess we all have fucked-up families. Just fucked up in different ways.”
Compassion filled her gaze. She reached for my arm as if she wanted to squeeze it, but at the last second, she changed her mind and dropped her hand. After clearing her throat, she asked, “Ready to go?”
I nodded and followed her out. Rocket was nowhere to be seen, but I still felt uneasy. I waited until we reached the apartment and Felicity had unlocked the front door before I said, “That drummer in Asher’s band. Rock. That was my brother Rocket.”
“Wha...what?” Felicity whirled around and gaped at me. When I just watched her, she threw her hands into the air. “Oh my God, why didn’t you say something before?”
I ushered her the rest of the way inside, and once we were both in, I shut the door at my back. “I didn’t know what to say. He was...different.”
“Different?” she repeated, frowning.
“He wasn’t at all concerned about catching up on old times. He seemed more obsessed about some vendetta he has against the Bainbridge family.”
“The...” She shook her head. “Excuse me?”
“He tried to recruit me into his cause. Said they all needed to pay for what they did to Mercy. What they did to me. For how they burned down our house.” When her eyebrows lifted at that, I had to ask, “Was that fire arson?”
“I...I...” she sputtered, before shaking her head. “There were rumors, of course. People came and questioned all of us, but...no, I don’t…I don’t think they ever decided it was arson.” Concern filled her eyes. “Why? Do you think one of the Bainbridges did it? That they killed half your family? Bentley?”
I studied her a second before shaking my head. “No,” I said. “I think an eighteen-year-old boy filled with too much hate was making up reasons to justify his resentment.”
Her shoulders fell, revealing her relief. But then a new hint of caution filled her gaze. “And you’re not filled with that same hatred?”
