Vengeful Bastard: A Hero Club Novel

by Nicole Dykes

  Adele hugs her, which makes me laugh because I watch Blair cringe at the affection. Eventually she sighs, giving in and patting her on the back.

  “Any time, gorgeous.”

  “Well, I mean, we’ll be back this way in a day or two. So this definitely isn’t good-bye.” I add, not ready to leave Adele behind.

  Melody brightens up at that. “That’s true. You might have to deal with us in a couple of days.”

  “So, then why the hell are we doing this long good-bye.” Blair takes a step back, but she has a smile on her face.

  A sad look passes over Adele’s pretty face. It’s quick, but I catch it before her smile shines brightly and she straightens her back. “You’re right. I’ll see you all soon.”

  “I’m gonna hold you to it.” I hug her again, and we all pile into the SUV.

  We wave good-bye to Adele and start toward Chicago.

  Quinn’s show is in roughly twelve hours.

  Here’s hoping we can make it there without killing each other now that we don’t have our beautiful buffer between us.

  The next six hours are completely uneventful. And I mean nothing happens.

  We stopped to eat lunch around noon. There was no conversation. There hasn’t been all day. We’ve all been lost in our own worlds as Rhys drives us to Chicago.

  Adele was a beautiful gift for the first part of the trip. And it’s apparent, now that she’s gone, there’s something missing. There’s so much tension in this SUV that when we arrive at the hotel, I swear it pours out when the doors open.

  It follows us like a black cloud as I roll my largest piece of luggage up to the front desk to check in. Sean checks in for him and Rhys, and the nice woman at the front desk informs us that our rooms are adjoining.

  Why?

  A door separating us is not enough.

  But apparently, there’s a lot going on in Chicago this week. And it’s too late to change the rooms, so I’ll just have to deal.

  This is for Quinn.

  I really admire the hell out of her.

  I haven’t spent a lot of time with her. And to be honest, when Blair told me she’d formed a friendship with her when Quinn reached out, I was shocked. Blair and Logan had a thing back in high school. Nothing serious, Blair doesn’t do serious. But there’s no way I would have enough confidence to contact the woman who once had constant sex with the man I loved.

  But Quinn did. She wanted to hang out when she and Logan came back to visit, and Blair carted me along. Then I couldn’t get enough of Quinn and Logan’s stories. Their childhoods were rough, but they both came out of it well.

  They aren’t angry at the world even if they should be.

  I look over at Sean as he passes his license and credit card to the woman at the front desk. Quinn and Logan tell stories about the past, which, of course, include Rhys and Sean, but they don’t offer many details of what landed them in foster care.

  All four are abandoned children, looked over and uncared for. I know their life was hard. I know they had to hustle, and sometimes even steal, to survive. But none of this I learned from Sean.

  The truth is, I don’t know the man I’ve yearned for all these years. I have no clue who he is. All I know is when I close my eyes at night to dream, it’s his face I see.

  It’s also all his lies I hear.

  The elevator dings, and my smile brightens when I see Logan and Quinn appear.

  Sean finishes checking in just in time for us to greet them. Rhys hugs Quinn, and Logan playfully shoves him back, which surprisingly Rhys handles well. “Hands off, Moore.”

  Rhys Moore.

  “Fuck off, Davis. I can’t help it if your woman wants to touch me.

  Logan Davis.

  “Aw, you three are so fucking cute in your love triangle bullshit. I can’t even handle it.” Sean Bennett.

  “You are completely ridiculous.” Quinn Foster.

  Four lost souls—some may say broken, but I see how strong they are—all joined by a bond that’s unbreakable.

  Quinn hugs Sean, and he holds her tight, lifting her tiny frame off the ground.

  “What the hell took you all so fucking long?” Logan nods a hello to Blair and me as we join their little group.

  “Sean picked up a drifter,” Rhys answers. Even though he doesn’t seem outwardly happy, he does seem to be at peace now that all four of them are together.

  “Oh shit, I need to hear about this.” Logan checks his phone. “But first, food. I’m fucking starving.”

  “It’s like, three in the afternoon, Grandpa.” Sean raises an eyebrow and laughs, totally in his element with his oldest friends.

  “I haven’t had anything to eat today. Let’s go grab a pizza.”

  Sean shrugs but agrees. Blair shakes her head. “You guys go ahead.” She turns to me. “I need another shower.”

  I laugh, grateful to my friend for doing something so completely unfamiliar just for me. “Sounds good.” I look at Quinn. “We’ll catch up with you guys later.”

  Quinn, dressed casually in jeans, an oversized t-shirt, and a backwards, white, baseball cap but still stunning, gives a thumbs up. “Sounds good. Text us later, and do not miss the show or I’ll have to kill you both.”

  Blair waves her off, but I see her small smile as I agree and follow Blair to the elevator.

  The four of them leave the hotel, and we go up to the room reserved for us by Quinn. It’s quaint, not really what we’re used to but also not bad.

  Blair tosses her bag on the bed and flops down. “Can’t we just fly back?”

  “Why are you in such a bad mood? Is four hours in a car with Rhys really that bad? I mean, you are sleeping with him.”

  “I’m not sleeping with him, Mel. It’s not a relationship.”

  I unzip my suitcase and find my hairbrush, running it through my tangled locks. “So, what? You’re pissed because you wanted to sleep with him but couldn’t find the time this trip?”

  She rolls her eyes. “We aren’t animals. We don’t jump each other every time we’re in the same area. Jesus, Mel.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you two are because you haven’t told me.”

  I was still pissed when I went up to our room last night, but Blair was already out cold, so we haven’t talked much.

  “There’s nothing to tell. I’ve told you everything.”

  “So, why do you want to fly back?”

  “Because this,” she gestures around the room, “is so not me.”

  I shrug and put my brush back in the bag. “It’s not that bad.”

  “I didn’t say it was, but this life isn’t me. I don’t like fast-food or greasy food. I like room service and first-class. That’s me, Blair Ashton, snob extraordinaire.”

  I hear her words as they come out cold and mechanical, and I look at her face. Something happened. I don’t know what. But something happened, and I’m assuming it was with Rhys. “You are not a snob.”

  She stands up and walks to the window, folding her arms and looking out at the street below. “I am. And I’m fine with who I am. I’m not changing for anyone.”

  “Does Rhys want you to change?”

  She sighs. “No. He definitely doesn’t.”

  “Wha—”

  Blair cuts me off quickly. “I’m going to shower.”

  “Blair, we can talk, you know.”

  She walks into the bathroom, her hand on the doorknob. “Don’t worry about it, Mel. You just worry about your own shit tonight.”

  I sit on the edge of the bed as she closes the bathroom door. Thinking about my conversation with Adele as I stare at the door connecting our room to Rhys and Sean’s.

  Were Sean and I just finding ourselves? Can we ever actually make it work? Do I even want to?

  He’s a liar, I know that much. And although what happened between us may seem totally insignificant to most others, to me it was turning point.

  Trust is something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give him.

>   Quinn’s show is epic. It’s just her and her guitar on a stage. But it’s hands down, the best concert I’ve ever been to. And that’s all Quinn really needs.

  Hundreds of people are packed into the club, and they’re here to see Quinn Foster.

  And even though I’m here for Quinn, my treacherous eyes are only on one person.

  Melody.

  She is, without question, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I still see the girl I met six-years ago, but she’s grown into a fucking gorgeous goddess. There was a naïve innocence to her when we first met, and maybe it’s still there, but she’s also gained confidence.

  And maybe a little skepticism.

  Tonight, instead of braids, her long, blonde hair is up in a tight bun on the top of her head. She looks angelic and sinful at the same time, wearing a shimmering, silver dress with sheer sleeves and deep V that has me salivating. The short dress shows off her long, tan legs as she stands with the rest of the crowd.

  And like everyone but me, her eyes are fixed on Quinn.

  Her pouty mouth is slightly agape in awe of one of my best friends and her talent.

  Growing up, we were never free, always chained to our backgrounds, trying to figure out how to help Logan pay his mom’s rent, how to get all of us out of the shithole foster homes we were in, how to get Rhys off the shit that overtook him.

  We were shackled to that life.

  That is, until we found our art, something that freed us.

  For Quinn, it was music. It lights her face up and projects that brightness to the entire crowd because, up there on that stage, she’s no longer imprisoned.

  For me, it’s photography. For Rhys and Logan, it’s ink.

  I watch Melody lip sync the words along with Quinn. And, after all these years, suddenly something becomes very clear . . .

  She’s been trapped in her own cage, one I put her in.

  I move next to her and take her hand, startling her as she turns to look at me, confused and maybe a little angry. “What?”

  It’s loud, so I lean in to her ear. “Come outside with me for a minute.”

  She pulls back, away from me and looks into my eyes with more confusion. “What? No.”

  “Please.”

  I don’t beg, but I need to take care of this now before I lose my nerve.

  She looks back at the stage. I see Rhys, Logan, and Blair’s eyes are on us. Melody huffs and nods, gesturing for me to take the lead.

  Rhys shakes his head, but his eyes are back on Quinn before I even start walking. I know Logan isn’t happy with me right now, but he’ll forgive me.

  We walk out of the club and onto the sidewalk, where some people are taking a quick smoke break.

  “What, Sean? What couldn’t wait until after Quinn’s show?” She folds her arms over her chest, highlighting the deep V and the perfect cleavage I’m trying to ignore.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine, but I don’t want to miss any more of the show.”

  “No, I mean I’m sorry for what I did.”

  Her big eyes meet mine, and I see so many emotions I might drown in them all. “Don’t.”

  “Melody, just let me do this.”

  “Why?” She looks so vulnerable as she clutches her stomach. “Why should I?”

  “Because I wasn’t wrong at the Christmas party.” She glares at me. I don’t think that night is a pleasant memory for either of us. “You still dream about me.”

  She drops her arms to her sides and starts back toward the front door. “Screw you, Sean.”

  I move to block her from the door, begging her to look at me. “I only know that because I do too.”

  She stops and looks up at me. “You what?”

  I gently take the crook of her arm and silently urge her to walk with me, further away from the door. She does. “I don’t know how many times I’ve run that game.”

  “Game?”

  I swallow the shame I feel. I’ve never faced this before, and it’s not easy. I take a seat on a metal bench by the curb, while she remains standing before me. I decide to take a different approach, to go deeper. “I don’t know a lot about my father.”

  “Why are we talking about your father? What does that have to do with your ‘game’?”

  I take another deep breath. I don’t talk about him. Ever. I look up and meet her eyes. “I never knew him, but what I’ve been told was that he was a rich asshole going to college when he met my mom.” She takes a tentative seat next to me but as far away on the bench as she can get. “She came from nothing. She was working at a diner and had just barely graduated from high school. But she fell head over heels for his bullshit lines and flashy personality. Brand new car, designer clothes, big attitude.” I watch her as she hangs onto every word as I bare my soul and feel a sickening feeling just thinking about it. “Anyway, they had a few weeks together, him telling her everything a poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks could want to hear.”

  She starts to say something but stops herself, probably connecting the dots. “What happened?”

  “She got pregnant. She was terrified, but she went to him, full of hope and determination that they could get through it together.”

  I cringe, thinking about how she must have felt telling him.

  I look into Melody’s pretty eyes and see no trace of anger as she listens to me. “You know what he did?”

  She slowly shakes her head from side to side with apprehension because my voice is tight and dripping with anger.

  “He threw two hundred dollars at her and told her to deal with it.”

  “Sean . . .” Her hand smooths over my shoulder, but I stand up, unable to take her kindness.

  “She never saw him again. He disappeared. Transferred schools, left the state, who the fuck knows? But she searched for him, pregnant, alone, heartbroken.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “According to her sister, my mother was never the same, a broken shell.” I take another deep breath and sit back down. “I guess she tried. She had me, but she just couldn’t do it alone.”

  “Her parents couldn’t help her?”

  I laugh at that but not cruelly. Melody grew up in a different world than I did, one where you can go to your parents for help. “My mom’s dad left when she was young, and her mom had six kids of her own, three that were still in the house at the time. There was no help.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because you deserve to know the truth. All of it.” I turn toward the busy Chicago street, unable to look her in the eyes. “She left me at a Safe Drop site when I was a baby and ran away.”

  “You don’t know where she went?”

  “No, no clue. She left a quick note, basically saying she wouldn’t be back and that she was sorry, and that was it.”

  “That’s awful.”

  I look back at her, trying to push down the rage and sadness. “She had no one. I try not to blame her.” Fury swirls in my chest as I grit my teeth. “But I do blame him.”

  “You went into foster care?”

  I nod. “My mom’s oldest sister came to visit me to make sure I was okay.”

  “She couldn’t take you?”

  I laugh again, thinking back to when I used to wonder the same thing. “She had two kids of her own and was barely twenty. She couldn’t.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, as I grew up, I started to despise the wealthy and privileged, hating the spoiled people with seemingly no problems who looked at me like a piece of trash.”

  “That’s not how I saw you.”

  “I know you didn’t.” I fight the guilt and won’t allow myself to chicken out. “That’s why I’m sorry.”

  Her eyes search mine. “Why?”

  “Because every other time, it was with a rich, entitled girl who didn’t give a fuck about me, who thought she was better than me. I wanted to prove something to myself, maybe even punish them. But Melody . . .” My eyes hold hers.
“I knew you were different the second you spoke—hell, the second we locked eyes, and I still fucking did it.”

  She doesn’t waste any time. “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” My hand rests on her knee, lost in her. “Maybe because I needed you. And part of me wanted to stay, knowing you were different.”

  “And still you left.”

  “I was sixteen.”

  She pushes my hand away, folding her arms defensively. “So was I!”

  “I know.” I put my hand over my heart. “All of those other girls thought I wasn’t good enough for them. And they were wrong.” Her gaze is angry and sad all at the same time. “But you . . . You didn’t look at me like that. You saw something different, and it didn’t seem to matter that my clothes were second-hand or that I would never go to college or be able to support you. You acted like I was good enough for you.” My eyes narrow, looking deep into hers to prove my point. “You were wrong.”

  She shakes her head, tears forming in her eyes. “That was not for you to decide. And you’re right, you aren’t good enough for me, not now. But not because of your bank account.”

  Fight the pain. Do not run.

  “I know. And I’m sorry.”

  “I won’t feel bad for you.”

  “Good. I don’t need your pity.”

  She stands up from the bench and smooths her skirt. “I’m going back inside. I don’t want to miss the whole show.”

  I nod as I stare blankly out into the street. “Okay.”

  She starts toward the door, but I hear her heels stop clicking and then her sweet voice. “Thank you for telling me that.”

  I don’t say anything as she walks back into the crowded club and sit thinking about all my past mistakes.

  But leaving Melody the morning after is by far the biggest.

  “You okay?” Blair is on me instantly as I walk back into the club, and I’m still in shock. He apologized?

  For something he did years ago, something I’m sure seems insignificant to most people, including him, or so I thought.

  It was a one-night stand. It was a reckless, crazy thing I did in my youth that I should be well over by now, but I’m not.