Kid: Cerberus MC Book 2

by Marie James

I don’t remember the conversation, but it’s entirely possible that it took place.

  “Do you want me to start the application process?”

  “Yes, please.” I mean, what else can I do?

  “Listen, Khloe. I need to apologize to you.”

  That gets my attention. “Gary Reamy was indicted last week on sexual assault of one of the girls he and his wife were fostering. I should have listened to you years ago when you told me he hurt you.”

  I swallow my tongue, filled with rage that another girl was hurt when it could’ve been prevented if they’d have trusted me.

  “The statute of limitations hasn’t run out. You can still go after him for what he did to you,” she adds.

  I shake my head. It wouldn’t make any difference, and I’m not certain how much longer I will even be in town. Reliving those memories, telling my story to a jury is not something I’d want to have to come back and do.

  “Well,” she says pushing her plate away, “you have a few more years to make that final call. I’ll get to work right away on the service applications, and I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

  I stand from the table and walk away from the woman who, for the most part, I’ve seen as a thorn in my side for almost ten years, knowing I’ll probably never see her again. After the shit I’ve been through and the lack of support on her part, even never is too soon.

  Kid stands when he sees me walking across the diner. He holds the SUV door open for me without a word this time; I’m grateful for his silence.

  “Can we stop at that U-Haul place on the way back?” I ask Emmalyn as she buckles up.

  “Sure,” she says giving Kid a pointed look since he’s the one driving.

  I catch his pleading eyes in the review mirror for a split second before I force myself to look away.

  “Eight thirty-two,” the clerk says ten minutes later. I’ve picked out some sturdy boxes to pack my things in even though I have nowhere to go.

  I rifle through my wallet, knowing I have enough from my last twenty that I had to break last week to grab tampons on a shopping trip with Rose.

  Kid walks up and slaps a ten dollar bill on the counter, before scooping up the boxes and walking out the door with them. I swallow my pride at his offer to pay for the very boxes I’ll use when I leave; an action that is sure to kill us both.

  Emmalyn is waiting just outside the door to the tiny, square office as I walk out. I ignore Kid as he angrily shoves the boxes into the back and slams the gate closed with more force than necessary.

  “He’s mad at himself, not you,” she says. “We have one more stop to make. The liquor store is on the way back home.”

  “Can you get me a bottle of vodka?” She narrows her eyes at me, but I ignore her judgment. “It’s my birthday.”

  She frowns but nods her head in agreement.

  “Don’t tell anyone,” I plead. “I’m not trying to get anyone in trouble. I just want to forget for a while.”

  I opt to stay in the car while they go into the liquor store. I’m wrapped in guilt at Em getting me alcohol. I don’t drink. I’ve tried a beer before, and I could go a lifetime without tasting that again. Girls at school used to brag about how easy vodka is to drink, and it’s clear and odorless. I figure I can give it a try.

  Kid walks out carrying a large cardboard box; several different bottlenecks can be seen peeking out of the top. I lower my eyes when he sees me watching through the windshield, and I keep them down the entire way home. A text from Em on the way back to the clubhouse informs me that she’ll bring my bottle to me later.

  Climbing out of the SUV at the clubhouse, I walk around to the back to get my boxes.

  “I’ll get those,” Kid says reaching into the back before I can.

  “I got them,” I tell him.

  He pulls his arms back allowing me to grab them.

  “Sweet Girl, will you please talk to me?” He shifts, so his body is close to my back as I bend in to get the small stack of boxes.

  “Don’t,” I say before he can touch me. His hands on me would be my undoing. I’d forgive him in an instant, losing part of myself along the way. I shift away from him, unable to look him in the eye and walk into the clubhouse. My heart breaks just a little bit more when I close myself back into my room.

  Chapter 38

  The guys made the trip back safely. BT, of course, took Aviana straight to a room with only a head nod in my direction. I’m glad he was able to be a hero to his girl. The smile on her face when she came in was a testament to the mutual feelings she has for him. I know he was worried she wouldn’t reciprocate the way she felt for him, or that she’d have been so damaged when he found her that she’d be unreachable. It happens to a lot of girls who are abducted.

  Snatch has a new girl on his arm; the one that came from Vegas with BT and Aviana. I don’t know her story, but from the looks of it, he’s going to have his hands full with her. She looks like a feisty ballbuster.

  What has my blood pumping with fire and rage is the sight of Khloe across the room leaning a little too close for my liking with Itchy of all people. I’ve seen her getting up and leaving the room several times this evening, never taking her hand off of that damn water bottle.

  I knew what was going on the second Em asked me for the best vodka for a first timer. She tried to play it off as if it was for her, but I knew better. I let her believe I didn’t know she was buying that shit for Khloe. Kincaid wouldn’t approve of her helping get a minor drunk, but I’m not going to deny Khloe a single thing that she wants, within reason.

  I’m here; I knew I could keep her safe. Vodka is much better than the pills she was popping the first day we met. How can I judge her when I spent the night before last so drunk I couldn’t manage to crawl my sad ass into the clubhouse?

  I seethe as I see Khloe repeatedly placing her hand on Itchy’s knee. Each time he lifts it and places it back on her own lap. He looks across at me, obviously uncomfortable with the situation but too much of a gentleman to call her out and make her stop.

  She just smiles at him and continues talking, her hand once again roaming from her own leg to his. I bite my lip and take a long sip from my beer. She’s swaying back and forth, clearly intoxicated. Each time she blinks, her eyes take longer to open than the last time. It doesn’t help matters that she changed from her jeans earlier into a little dress. I commend Itchy for not glancing at her breasts that are damn near in his face.

  “Hey, baby,” I hear whispered breathily as arms ending in long red fingernails reach over my shoulders from behind my back.

  I jerk, standing from the couch, turning to face Snapper, who has the fucking gall to look affronted by my reaction to her; it infuriates me.

  “Have you lost your fucking mind?” I roar turning on her.

  Her eyes widen, realizing she’s pushed me too far.

  “Kid,” she says lowering her voice to try to defuse the situation and not bring the attention of everyone in the room. It’s too late; I already feel everyone’s eyes on me. “Should we go somewhere and talk?”

  “As if,” I sneer, “I’d ever be caught fucking dead anywhere alone with you!”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “You act like I sought you out. You fucked me, not the other way around.”

  “Everyone here has fucked you!” I wave my hand around the group including every biker in the room. It’s almost comical when I see Kincaid holding his hands up and shaking his head ‘no’ as Emmalyn looks over at him.

  “You knew I was hers,” I say pointing to Khloe, who is looking on with bleary eyes. “I told you that the last time I made the mistake of taking you to my room. I didn’t fuck you then! Why would I want to fuck you after losing my memory?”

  She opens her mouth and closes it several times without a sound coming out.

  “I never should’ve propositioned you. That’s on me,” I say slapping my hand roughly against my chest. “But you should have shot me down. As a woman who claims to be loyal to thi
s club, you don’t act like it. I may not have known better at the time, but you did! It’s some backhanded bullshit that you did. We don’t need shady bitches like you in this club. We deal with enough chaos in the field to have to come home to conniving whores like you!”

  “Enough, brother.” Kincaid put his hand on my shoulder. He knows it had to be said; it’s the only reason he’s allowed it to go on as long as he has, but when the Prez says enough is enough, you listen.

  “I don’t want you near me. You see me coming, you sure as fuck better turn and walk the other way.”

  I send every ounce of hatred in my body her direction as she begins to cry and rushes out of the front door. I hope that bitch stays away forever. My hands are trembling as I sit back down on the sofa beside Kincaid and polish off the rest of my beer.

  One more look at Khloe is the final straw. Itchy isn’t paying any attention to her, but her hand has once again managed to find its way to his knee.

  I jump up from the couch. “Enough of this shit,” I hiss.

  “Easy, brother,” I hear from behind me as Kincaid realizes how pissed I still am. Itchy’s eyes widen, certain I’m about to attack him. I can’t place any blame on him. I don’t blame her either, but I won’t sit here any longer and watch her act like this.

  I scoop her up in my arms and carry her out of the room. I can’t help but moan softly when she nuzzles into my neck. The feel of her in my arms again calms every nerve that was set on end by Snapper and her bullshit.

  I close us into her room and place her gently on the bed. I watch in awe as she pulls her dress over her head and tosses it to the floor. Her perfect, firm breasts bounce as she lowers her arms back down.

  “You going to fuck me now?” She asks seductively even though she looks like she can hardly hold her eyes open.

  “No,” I say and turn to her dresser. I grab the first t-shirt from the top drawer, knowing it’s where she keeps her sleep shirts.

  I toss her the shirt, and she immediately begins to pull it over her head.

  “Is it because my hair's not red enough for you?” she spits tugging at her beautiful auburn locks. Her breath hitches. “Why do I repulse you?” She says to my back as I turn away from her.

  “I’m not repulsed by you, Sweet Girl,” I say turning back to face her so she can see the sincerity in my eyes. “I love you.”

  “No,” she says angrily. “You don’t get to say those words to me after what you’ve done.”

  “My actions while I was hurt don’t change how I feel now that my memory is back, Khloe.”

  She lies back on her pillow, looking beautiful with her hair fanned out. The shirt I tossed to her is the one she was wearing when I woke up with her hands on my body. I’ve had it for years, and it’s recently become my favorite.

  “Did you love me?” I ask uncertain if I even want to hear her answer.

  I see a tear force itself out of the corner of her closed eye. “What difference does it make?”

  “It’s something I can build on, Sweet Girl,” I say against her forehead before pulling the covers up over her body.

  I grab the nearly empty bottle of vodka from the dresser and leave her room. I hold it up in front of me when I see Emmalyn waiting in the hallway. I know she’s out here to make sure things don’t get out of hand.

  “It’s her birthday,” she says softly.

  I just shake my head and turn it up. It will be empty very shortly.

  Chapter 39

  My headache when I wake up is otherworldly. The incessant pounding and the rolling in my stomach are my punishment for acting the way I did last night. I sit up hoping the new position will help settle my stomach; it doesn’t. The sunlight reflecting off of a silver box on the pillow beside mine catches my eye.

  I pick up the small, unassuming box and turn it over and over in my hands. I know Kid had to have left it last night. I know the placement on the pillow he slept on so many nights was intentional. He wants me to picture him in my bed. It would be a genius plan if I didn’t think of Snapper being in his bed.

  I open the box just as my bedroom door opens. Emmalyn walks in carrying enough food to feed an army.

  I look away from her and back down to my gift. Inside the box is a beautiful silver heart inscribed with “forever yours”. The sight of it and his declaration makes me cry.

  Em sets the plate down on my bedside table and reaches for it. “Let me help you,” she says softly pulling the necklace from the cardboard insert. Against my better judgment, I lift my hair and allow her to encircle my neck with the dainty chain and charm.

  “It’s beautiful,” she says taking a step back and looking it.

  I give her a weak smile and tuck it behind the fabric of my t-shirt.

  “I brought everything Diego says is good for a hangover.” She points to the plate piled high with food.

  “I’ll puke if I try to eat.”

  “You’ll puke if you don’t,” she insists picking up the plate and placing it on my lap.

  I look down at the greasy eggs and bacon sitting beside a fluffy stack of pancakes.

  “This first,” she says holding out a bottle of water and a few Advil tablets.

  I pop the pills and wash it down with a huge gulp from the bottle she offered me.

  “Eat,” she says.

  I lift the fork and begin to do as she says. I’ve never been drunk before, so I take her word for it.

  “After you eat, you have to go out to the kitchen.” I give her a sideways glance. “BT and Aviana are leaving shortly. It’s tradition to see everyone off when they leave.” I shake my head at her insistence. “You can’t fuck with tradition.”

  “Fine,” I mumble around a bite of heavenly eggs.

  “After that you’re more than welcome to come back and take a nap, but not for long. I have errands I want to run later, and you’re coming with me.”

  I know we won’t have to take one of the guys with us since Kincaid is back at the clubhouse, and getting out of here for a while is just what I need.

  I tried the whole breakfast thing with everyone, but couldn’t force myself to stay longer than a few minutes. Kid somehow managed to go from a pained expression I’ve seen on his face the last couple of days to pissed off. I don’t know if it was because of me or that Snapper was in the room hugged up on Itchy. I didn’t stick around to find out.

  “Where exactly are we going?” I ask climbing into the passenger side of the SUV a few hours later. My head still hurts, but I feel much better than I did before my three-hour nap. It’s now late afternoon, and I can’t fathom what kinds of errands she has to take care of.

  “Here and there,” she says noncommittally from the driver’s seat.

  I’m lost in thought as we drive through town. It’s not until we pull up outside of a familiar house that I turn and glare at her.

  “What are we doing here, Emmalyn?”

  “Someone has to water the plants while Dom is gone. Diego asked if I could do it.”

  “You don’t even water the plants at the clubhouse,” I mutter.

  She shrugs and turns off the engine and climbs out of the truck. I follow her because she took the keys and it’s hot as Hell outside.

  I follow her through the house but head out back to the dock. The ducks see me making my way down the path and anxiously begin swimming toward the end of the dock, quacking in joy. I don’t have a sleeve of crackers like the last time I was here with Kid. The ducks soon realize I’m empty handed and go about their business.

  I lean back on my hands and let the warmth of the sun wash over my face. I hear footsteps behind me on the wooden dock.

  “You ready to go?” I ask Emmalyn.

  “I just got here,” a masculine voice returns.

  I peer over my shoulder, not at all surprised to see Kid walking toward me. I’m going to kill her. I knew this was a damn setup the second we pulled up outside of Dom’s house; I could feel it in my bones.

  He’s carrying two cups,
which I know will contain half chocolate and half strawberry shakes from the diner. He offers me one, and I take it graciously. The cold will help combat the heat.

  “Thank you,” I say as he squats down and sits beside me. His thigh is touching mine, and I don’t for a second consider moving it.

  “And thank you for the necklace,” I say pulling it out from behind my shirt.

  He nods and turns his eyes back to the water that’s rippling softly from the light breeze.

  “Let me guess? Em had something come up and had to leave.” I look over at him.

  He smirks and nods his head.

  “And you’re my ride home?” He grins bigger.

  I chuckle because I fell for their trap hook, line, and sinker. I take a long pull on the milkshake and look out across the lake. It’s so peaceful here, almost peaceful enough to forget about the pain I feel in my chest at his nearness.

  “We probably dodged a bullet,” I say quietly.

  “How is that?” he asks shifting his weight, so more of his body touches mine.

  “I lied to you when I told you my parents died from carbon monoxide poisoning. For the longest time, I believed they’d been murdered. I came home from that sleepover, and they were lying in blood on the living room floor. Protective services allowed me to believe that. My caseworker never lied to me; she just let me believe what I thought I saw.”

  The tears begin to fall just like they always do when I think about the day that turned my life upside down. Kid scoots even closer to me and places a tentative arm around my shoulder.

  “I found out years later while snooping through my case file that it was a murder/suicide.”

  Tighter he holds me.

  “They just had that shit written in your file and left it where you could read it?”

  “Worse,” I say. “They had a scanned copy of the suicide note in full color, blood and all, in that file.”

  “Fuck,” he mutters more to himself. “How is that dodging a bullet?” he asks softly against the top of my head.

  I remain silent. Saying the words out loud is much harder than the truth bouncing around in my own head. He allows my contemplative mood for a bit, but true to Kid form it doesn’t last forever.