The Irrevocable Series Boxed Set

by Samantha Jacobey

  Bailey leaned closer, eager to hear more, “I wondered why you guys were putting up profiles. It doesn’t seem odd to you?”

  “I guess it does,” he grinned at the memory, “I was already fourteen at the time, but my understanding o’ life outside o’ The Ranch had been severely limited. It was my first chance t’ poke around an’ learn about things beyond our four walls. Stuff that hadn’t been picked over an’ watered down or censored.”

  “Anyways, we built the cyber network solely for the purpose o’ keepin’ her connected to us. After she came back, the menfolk discussed deleting everything, since it had served its purpose. But, they decided it was a good thing, an’ it stuck, allowing us to communicate with each other when anyone leaves the group. Well, not leaves; no one really leaves… more like when they have to be away for a while,” frowning, he noticed that her expression had changed, “What?”

  “Menfolk,” she repeated, her brow crinkled, “The boys said that, and I thought it meant all of you, men-ly speaking, but hearing you say it; it sounds like something else.”

  “Yeah,” he cracked a crooked smile, “It means th’ elders. The seven men in charge o’ the community.”

  Bailey counted on her fingers, quickly deducing who they were. “So that’s your government. Not like a dictatorship.”

  “No,” he exposed even more of his teeth for her, “I guess you could say menfolk is another way o’ saying council, or somethin’ like that.”

  Bailey grinned more broadly as well, a swarm of butterflies suddenly going nuts in her gut. “Ok, I get it. You can go on.”

  “Well, the menfolk basically run things. An’ they make the choices that’ll benefit the group as a whole.” Drawing a deep breath, he exhaled loudly through a dropped jaw. “That’s why it was decided that you would never hold a place among us. Because they, as a group came to that choice.”

  Bailey looked stricken, butterflies squashed. “You mean my uncle had a say in that?”

  “He had a vote, yes,” the man across from her nodded, “An’ I wasn’t there when it was taken, so I don’t know for sure which way he went, but one way or the other, the vote did not fall in your favor. An’ that’s how it goes. As soon as four of them agree on something, that’s the way it is, no matter how the other three feel about it.”

  Nodding, the girl continued to frown, “They were really going to kill me.”

  “Probably,” his voice grew softer, “That’s part o’ their job, remember? They weren’t just some random guys, little bit. They’re mercenaries. Capable o’ taking care o’ whatever needs t’ be done, an’ t’ help defend the group if we ever need it.”

  “Wow,” she gasped, her eyes on the table between them, “Then I’ve put everyone in a terrible place.”

  “It’s not your fault. If your parent’s hadn’t gotten hit by that truck, you would’ve been at college – ” shit; he stopped speaking abruptly, causing the sentence to sound even more awkward.

  “I would have been at college?” she lifted her gaze to his, noting the terrified expression that he seemed to be fighting to remove from his features. “Did you guys have something to do with my parents’ accident?” She sat up straighter in her chair, her brow drawn into deep furrows.

  “No,” he denied flatly, his fingers making it to the edge of the table, tapping it nervously, aware that they had been discussing mercenaries two minutes before. “I really don’ wanna talk about that, Bailey.”

  “You don’t want to, but you are,” she demanded, leaning towards him and stabbing the flat surface between them with a long digit. “I knew something wasn’t right. I felt it in my gut! The car, the apartment, all the shit that was here waiting for them! You guys were after my brothers!”

  Caleb smacked his lips noisily, his tongue flicking around his lips, “I told you before, you an’ I are pawns. We do what th’ menfolk designate,” he held up a stiff index finger to cut off her torrent, “There’s no use denyin’ it. You’ve seen enough, you know what I’m talkin’ about.”

  “Then tell me the truth,” she begged, slumping back in the seat.

  “Ok, the truth,” he blew a puff of air into a cupped palm, rubbing the fingers together as if he were cold, “I… stalked your family. I was actually in town when the accident happened. The cops showin’ up at your door that night scared the livin’ shit outta me.”

  Her eyes grew wide, her voice evaporated, and all she could do was stare.

  “They had noticed a couple of years ago that we were acutely short on boys. An’ after Brenda got sick an’ passed on, it was suggested that your uncle needed a new wife. A younger wife, who might be able t’ provide him with a few sons. That’s when he spouted off an’ suggested he could just borrow his nephews.” He could see the terror in her eyes. “He didn’t mean it, Bailey, it was a joke!”

  “A joke,” she breathed, the extent of her horror evident.

  “Yeah, but once the idea was in the air, it jus’ kinda hung there. An’ grew. I had only been in town a couple o’ weeks, gatherin’ info about th’ boys, an’ your parents… an’ you,” he shrugged, “To feel things out an’ see what, if anything, could be done.” He hung his head as he finished, aware that he might have been safer trying to explain Lawson than the can of worms he had opened.

  “You people disgust me!” she spit vehemently.

  “Yup, pretty much,” he agreed wholeheartedly, “Brings a whole new meaning t’ the words the ends justifies th’ means, now don’ it.” He stared at her, watching her skin slowly shift, picking up a bright pink flush. “I really am sorry about your parents, an’ for everything that’s happened.”

  “I bet you are,” she had no control, “And I’m supposed to trust you, how? You are the scum of the earth! You are – ”

  “They have your brothers, Bailey,” he stated calmly, nodding his head as if to agree with her assessment. Waiting half a minute, he gave her time to process his words, “I told you, we’re the pawns. I do what they say, an’ you do what they say. There is no good scenario here. You go t’ school next week, an’ finish your senior year. Tha’s the smart thing t’ do.”

  “And if I don’t choose to do the smart thing?”

  “Then we can go get on my bike, an’ I’ll take you back, an’ you can pray on th’ way down they don’t have a hole dug for your body when we get there.”

  The girl stared at her roommate for what seemed an eternity. He didn’t speak, only returning her unwavering glare. Finally, she stood from her chair and made her way to her room, closing the door quietly and locking it. Shuffling over into the corner, she slid slowly down the wall, too awestruck to cry, too bewildered to think.

  She knew the door wouldn’t keep him out; not if he wanted in. What does it matter? she asked herself time and again, her mind turning in circles. She trembled in the darkness, waiting to fall asleep; waiting to awaken, so the nightmare would end. Waiting for the dawn, so the next day could begin.

  Bad News, Baby

  Bailey awoke the following morning still pressed against the wood and sheetrock. Standing, she stretched, removing the stiffness from her limbs. Exiting her small sanctuary, she moved through the house, searching quietly for the man who shared her space. Unable to locate him, she stepped out onto the balcony, where she determined that his ride no longer sat parked in one of the spaces below.

  Closing the door, she locked it, only briefly considering where he might be. They have your brothers, Bailey. She figured it didn’t matter where he had gone, he would return. We’re the pawns, Bailey. Going to her brothers’ room, she turned on the computer, pulling up her Facebook page, and new friends list.

  One by one, she looked through the profiles, gathering every piece of information she could about the group. Eventually growing tired of the search, she shut down the machine, making her way to her room. Changing into her shorts and tee, she left the apartment, finding her way to the gym she had seen on her run the previous day.

  Inside, she smirked at the equip
ment in disdain, ready to begin training in earnest. An hour later, she left, utterly exhausted. Back inside their refuge, she showered and dressed to go to the school, eager to double-check her registration, and ensure that her senior year would go off without a hitch. Using her new bus pass for the round trip, she smiled to herself at her resourcefulness, and ability to handle things. I’m only a pawn if I allow myself to be.

  Shortly before five, the girl changed into her new uniform, and walked over to her job, determined to make it through the shift. She wanted to pick up every hour she could, so that her bank account would grow. Someday, she would need funds, and she allowed herself to dream about ways she might break her siblings out of the prison in which they were being held.

  For ten days, she did not see Caleb. She knew that he came home each night, and prepared himself a meal, but he did not go over to her work or disturb her in her room. In the mornings, he left quietly so he did not awaken her. As soon as the door closed, the girl dressed, headed for the gym, and the training that would make her strong.

  When school started, she had to find a way to include the exercise in her routine. Thankfully, she had two off periods in the afternoon, as she had completed all but a few of the courses required for graduation. Catching an earlier bus, she would be home in time to hit the gym, shower, and still make work by five, if she were diligent in her timing. She felt driven to do this, and she used the image of the muscled blonde who had dented her forehead to drive her on, pure hate fueling her desire to prove the man who shared her space wrong.

  Caleb took great care to avoid even a glimpse of silky auburn curls. His chest ached from the pain he had seen in her pure green eyes. Throwing himself into his employment, he went in early, stayed late, and almost forgot to register for his fall class. Picking up his book over at the junior college, he grimaced at the amount of work that lay ahead of him to finish the course by Christmas.

  He had managed to keep things in line, until the tenth day, when his phone rang on his ride home from work. Stopped at a red light, he glanced at the screen, able to see the name John Cross blinking back at him. Easing the bike onto the adjacent parking lot, he took the call, “Yeah.”

  “Hey, Caleb,” a crisp female voice greeted from the other end.

  “’Manda?”

  “Yeah, it’s me,” she giggled, then drew a lengthy breath, “I got some bad news, baby.”

  His lungs clamped shut and his heart stopped dead in his chest, fear gripping him like a vice. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” he demanded loudly, holding his other ear closed to hear her over the traffic to his left.

  “I’m pregnant,” she announced from afar, “An’ yur mamma’s wantin’ t’ plan our weddin’.”

  “You’re what?!?” he demanded loudly, then rushed on, “You know damn good an’ well I ain’ never touched you!” he hollered over the diesel next to him.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you’re happy, baby!” she cooed. “I can hear you’re in a bad spot, so I’ll call you later, hun. Love you!”

  “’MANDA!” he screamed, then pulling the phone away from his ear, he could see she had ended the call. Shoving the device into his pocket, he eased back out into the rush-hour traffic that lasted from five to seven each day. Weaving more than he normally dared, he hurried home as quickly as he could get there, fuming every inch of the way.

  Mounting the stairs, he reached his father’s voicemail, “You call me back!” he demanded loudly.

  Inside, he pulled off his clothes, and jumped into a fast shower, listening for a ringtone the entire time. When the call didn’t come, he pulled on clean clothes. Grabbing his book, he hit the door, eager to get across the street and order his dinner. And talk to Bailey. The idea was out before he recalled he hadn’t spoken to her in over a week. The thought of how long it had been put a knot in the pit of his gut.

  Arriving at the restaurant, he could see the frown on her face before he got to the register. Waiting in line, he hugged the huge volume to his chest, blowing noisily through pursed lips, time and again. Finally at the front of the pack, he lay his newest nemesis on the counter, and attempted a smile, “Hey.”

  Her posture stiff, she inquired, “What will you have?”

  Giving her his order, he produced his debit card, and waited. Receiving it back, he half smiled again, “Could you come an’ see me on your break?”

  “I already had my break,” she replied curtly, fighting the urge to cry.

  Nodding, he picked up the text and cup, making his way over to fill his drink and find a seat. Removing his phone from his pocket, he lay it on the table before him, glaring at it. Ring. The device lay dark, silently taunting him, until he picked it up and opened his news feed.

  The first post knocked the wind from his chest. Amanda had tagged him in a life event; Amanda Knight and Caleb Cross are having a baby. At that moment, a tray containing his dinner landed on his table, and he looked up anxiously, half expecting to see Bailey standing over him.

  Blinking up at the young man, he mumbled, “Thank you.” Then, twisting in his seat, he craned to see the girl still at the register, taking orders, her expression unchanged. Fuck. Making it to his feet, he only took a single step before he realized he couldn’t interfere. He had to let her do her job, and he would talk to her after she had finished. And after he had had time to plan what he would say.

  Returning to the vinyl cushion, he ran his fingers through his nearly dry spikes; damn. Turning to the meal, he unwrapped the burger and scarfed it, then began picking at the fries. When his phone lit up and began to sing, he snatched it up, pushing open the door and accepting the call simultaneously, “What’n the hell’s goin’ on?”

  “Hi son,” his father replied calmly.

  “Is she really pregnant?” he demanded in a loud voice, moving away from the crowded tables and further down the walk.

  “Yeah, she is; Kathy confirmed it! Congratulations!” his old man boasted.

  “No! No, dad, I have never… touched… that girl!” his heart beat wildly inside his chest, “So whatever little game you guys are up to, you can forget it!”

  “We’re plannin’ t’ have the weddin’ at Thanksgiving,” his father ignored the comment, “An’ we’re gonna put Don over there t’ babysit the Dewitt girl,” he continued matter-of-factly.

  “Don? Are you kidding me?” Caleb became more agitated by the minute, “You’re not doin’ either o’ those things. I’m here, an’ I’m takin’ care o’ Bailey. An’ I’m not marryin’ ‘Manda!” His mind raced, “What I will do, is meet you at a doctor’s office for a paternity test.”

  “Aww, son,” the older man’s voice dropped, “You know it really don’ have t’ be this way.”

  “Yeah, it does. Why can’t you jus’ leave us alone?”

  “Is our secret safe?” his tone fell even more.

  “Your secrets are safe, dad,” he sighed heavily, “She don’ know much, an’ what she does know, she ain’ gonna share. She knows you hold two aces in th’ hole.”

  His father began to laugh at the analogy. “Ai’ight son, this’s what I’ll do. These girls are all about makin’ their plans, but I’ll have ‘em hold off for a summer weddin’. Next summer. You jus’ make sure you keep yur business in your pants, an’ don’ go gettin’ anybody else knocked up. An’ we’ll see you at Christmas.”

  “I don’t know if we can make it for Christmas,” he stalled, “Let them plan the wedding for next June, an’ I’ll play along, ok?”

  “There ya go son,” Caleb could almost see the grin on his face, “Tha’s a good boy.”

  Ending the call, the tall blond pocketed the device and made his way back to the shop. Opening his book, he stared at the pages while he waited for the other shoe to drop.

  Getting By

  Bailey exited the door and made for the light, only pausing for an instant when Caleb called from behind, “That baby’s not mine.”

  “I don’t care,” she replied, moving towards her goal, and plac
ing one foot in front the other. I can’t think about your problems. Punching the button, she refused to look at him, and stood facing the street.

  “Yeah well, I could really use a friend right now. A real one.”

  Hearing her own words tumble out of his mouth, she turned only enough to see that he stared straight ahead. The walk symbol lit up and they both moved, taking wide strides, and traversing the distance to their small apartment.

  “Why should I be your friend?” she quipped when they reached the stairs.

  “You shouldn’t,” he replied, “I have done nothin’ t’ deserve it.” He reached to open the door for her, then closed it behind them and secured the lock before following her down the hallway.

  “And why would she say the baby is yours if it isn’t?” the girl continued to rant in a passive-aggressive fashion, turning her back on him as soon as she had spoken.

  “I don’t know,” he stood behind her, staring at her long crimson highlights, “But I have a feelin’ it’s got somethin’ t’ do with you,” his voice dropped to a loud whisper.

  “With me,” she spat the words, “What in the hell could it possibly have to do with me?” she swung around to face him, her locks floating for an instant, daring him to touch them.

  He shrugged, “All I know is, right now, she an’ my mother are plottin’ my wedding, an’ my father wants t’ trade me for Don t’ look after you.”

  “Don? Finch? Why would he want to look after me?” her tone remained dagger sharp.

  “He wouldn’t,” Caleb’s gaze dropped to her perfect pink lips. “An’ I wouldn’t trust him to.” He stared at her, his chest heaving in deep, labored breaths.

  Bailey scowled at him, feeling her resolve weakening. She had known many people in her lifetime; called more than she could count friend. No one had ever taken the time to know the girl hidden inside her perfect shell the way Caleb had. “So when are you getting married,” she pushed the hair out of her face, and turned back around. Her eyes burned, and although she needed to know, she didn’t really want to talk about the subject.