by Amo Jones
Tommy nodded his head, placing his hands into his pockets. “Yeah man, he deserves it.”
Ade nudged his head toward a quiet corner in the carpark, with Tommy following as they headed off to talk business. I don’t know what exactly is going on with Tommy, but I know that the acts this one man has done, the fucker deserves it. We know that nothing will land back on Tommy, it’s why I bought him here.
Blake looked to me. “How’s the band been going?”
“Yeah, good.”
Ryker comes walking up to us, zipping up his jeans with his hair all over the place. I swung my head back to Blake quickly. “Anything that this idiot says ignore him.”
“Blake! Sup, man? How’s it been?” He pulled Blake in for a shoulder hug.
“Ha! Man!” Ryker started, “I didn’t know you had a sister? And a fucking hot one at that.”
I watched as both Blake and Zane stilled at the mention of Phoebe. Of course, she would mean a lot to these men. After all, they practically raised her.
Blake’s face softened, turning into a smile. “I can almost guarantee that you have no chance,” he stated with a cocky smirk.
“Why do people keep saying that?” he whispered in mock disbelief. “I’ve never been turned down in my whole life,” Ryker answered, pretending to be hurt.
“Because it’s true,” both Blake and I said in unison.
Blake’s eyes shot to me and his face changed, his eyes narrowed and his jaw ticked briefly. He must’ve seen something in my eyes. Interest? Maybe.
“Stay away,” he stated with a small curve on his lip.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, going near her,” I replied, matching his smirk. It was a challenge and he knew it. Blake and I are close enough to give each other banter, but I wouldn’t cross him when it comes to his baby sister. Even If I were interested, I’d have to go through an entire MC before getting to their princess. My stomach tightened, heat flushing up my chest before descending back down to my legs.
Well, I’ll be damned. Consider me interested.
We pulled into the Shuttle with Melissa downing her burger in the back seat.
“I can’t fucking believe we just met Twisted Transistor!”
Rolling my eyes, I unbuckled my seatbelt. “Let’s go, groupie.”
Our home wasn’t much, it never was. My father owned and created Rendon Construction. We had a comfortable life, never cold and always had food in our cupboards. When he died, Blake took over Rendon Construction and we split the life insurance. We both decided that we’d go halves on paying for our family home, neither of us wanted to let it go.
It’s a double story suburban home with a little porch out the front including a swing, and a small front yard. It’s what home felt like.
Shutting my car door, I pulled my keys out of my bag. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
Meadow looked to me from the passenger side of the car, shutting the door once she got out. “It’s lovely, Phoebe.” Her eyes drifting to the house, wrapping her cardigan around herself tightly. My heart dropped a little. I wish I knew everything behind why Meadow was the way she was, but why is anyone the way they are? All I will ever do is love her and be there for her. I smiled a small smile at her then begun making my way to the front door, with both the girls following close behind me. Sliding the key into the door, I turned it until it clicked unlocked. Opening it wide, I flicked on the light that sat to the right above a small table. It still felt the same—warm and welcoming. Blake must have asked Nancy to come in before we got here.
“There are two bedrooms you can choose from upstairs. I’ll just whip around the house and turn everything on.”
Meadow made her way upstairs while I proceeded to flick the lights on. The living room is still the same. My dad’s recliner sat in the corner, with our three seater up against the wall. The furniture was still there, the television completely outdated. I wanted to keep everything as it was. I headed upstairs while Melissa finished her dinner in the kitchen. Walking into the master bedroom, I unpacked my stuff into my dad’s drawers. The thing I did manage to do was pack up all of his belongings. It took me four weeks, but I got there in the end.
After slipping in and out of the shower, I slid one of my dad’s Charger tops over my head and threw some socks on before making my way out into the living room. The girls were already cuddled up on the sofa with the old television on.
I laughed, slumping down on my dad’s chair. “Sorry about the television. I wanted to keep everything as original as possible. It’s like my safe house still.”
“Your Shuttle,” Melissa whispered with a smile.
I nodded my head at her. “Exactly.”
“I wish I had a place like this growing up,” Meadow murmured while looking around.
“Meadow, what sort of place did you have?” I asked before realizing I may have overstepped a line. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”
She shook her head and smiled. “It’s fine. I want to tell you. Well, I don’t mind some things.” Melissa looked at her with sadness in her eyes, which is a different look for my little brunette friend who’s usually so playful and happy.
“The truth is we lived in a rundown apartment block. It was just my dad and me. I never knew my mother. She left me when I was a baby, so it was just Donald and me. He doesn’t deserve the title Dad.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them protectively.
“I’m sorry, Meadow. I’m here if you ever want to talk.”
She nodded her head and smiled.
“I’ll get us some wine.” I walked into the kitchen and pulled a cheap bottle of Moscato out of the fridge before walking back into the living room and flopping onto the sofa with three glasses in my hand.
“What’s the plan tomorrow?” Melissa asked.
I shrugged. “We could go out?”
Melissa agreed as she stood up from the sofa. “I better go home, make sure Billy is still alive.” Billy is Melissa’s goldfish.
“No wine then?” I asked her and she shook her head.
“I’ll save it for tomorrow night,” she said with a smile.
Once she had left, I handed Meadow her glass of wine and she took it with a smile. I turned my attention back to the old television that had something playing through the aerial. It’s all fuzzy so we couldn’t see whatever was playing anyway.
“My dad used to lock me inside my room every day.”
I swallowed down some of my wine to stop my squirming. “Why did he do that?”
“So he could play games with me. The first time he put his hands on me I was four. It only got worse with age.” Anger crept into my body, and an overwhelming feeling to wrap her inside a protective shell took over me.
“I’m so sorry, Meadow. No girl should ever have to cop that shit from her own father. A father is supposed to be your protector. It’s terrible that you endured that.”
With her face blank, she shook her head. “It’s fine now. He’s dead. That’s all that matters.”
I nodded my head. I would kill him myself if he weren’t. “Tell me you killed him,” I said with complete seriousness in my tone.
She smiled. “I didn’t. I would’ve loved to, but someone beat me to it.”
I raised my eyebrows and turned the television down.
“Who?”
Taking a large gulp of her wine, she answered, “I don’t know his name. I just remember what he looked like. He moved into one of the empty rooms next to ours. He would have only been a few years older than I was, but he lived on his own. I was fourteen and I must have forgotten to shut the front door properly. Donald began one of his assaults on the living room sofa. I tried to do what I did every time it happened, shut myself off and let the tears rule over me. But this particular day, I was tired and my body was drained. I was tired of living and I had a pistol sitting under my bed waiting for the right time for me to pick it up to prove it. That day was the right time. I decided after he was done, I was goin
g to blow my brains all over his bedroom walls.” She smiled through wiping the tears that were streaming down her face, and I clutched my shirt using it to wipe the flood of tears which were pouring out of my eyes.
She continued, “He was halfway through when he pulled out his pocket knife to slice one of my inner thighs. It’s what he liked to do. He’d done it every time…one slice for each time he stole a piece of me. The scars are there for life, to match the ones embedded in my soul. He laid the knife against my skin and my chest began to heave. I knew what kind of pain was coming, but I rested in the fact that this would be the last time because I was done. I closed my eyes and held my breath, waiting for that sting to come over my thigh and the blood to trickle over my other one hundred and thirty six-scars, but it never came. Instead, I felt the weight of him be pulled off me. The shadow his body created over my shut lids now shone with light. When I heard the sound of a fist connecting with skin, I shot up off the sofa and widened my tear stricken eyes. I stood and ran to the front door, slamming it shut. I looked to my savior to see his massive frame standing over Donald. He wore a dark hoodie and loose jeans. I told him to stop, which he did. I looked down to Donald, who was stock still on the ground. I walked to the man who saved me…who was so huge, Phoebe. He was massive, tall and built like a house and he would’ve only been a couple years older than I was. He was like a human killing machine. He turned his head toward me, and I’ll never forget those eyes. They were empty, dead, and absolutely lethal. He said, ‘I’ve been watching you. I had an inkling that something was happening, but no proof.’ He walked to me, took hold of the throw blanket that was on the sofa and covered me up before he walked back to Donald. ‘Let me finish him,’ were the four little words he said to me, and with a nod of my head it was done. I don’t even know what he did with the body. He told me to gather all my shit and run. I found out I had an aunt, she didn’t know about me until I showed up on her doorstep. I never saw him again, but I dream of him every night.”
My eyes and cheeks were red. I had no words. I’d heard some horrific stories, but that has to be one of the worst. How can someone so beautiful like Meadow go through all that and still smile today, she’s a lot stronger than what she appears to be.
“Fuck, Meadow. I have no words. I’m feeling a churn of emotions right now and I’m not sure how I feel. I just want to turn back the clock and take you. My dad would have loved you.”
She smiled sweetly, shaking it all off. “Me too. I don’t know why we’re given the lives we’re given, but I like to think there’s always a deeper reason.”
“I wonder who the boy was?”
“I tried looking for him. He gave me the key to his room, told me to wait there for him and that he would be back after he’d tidied up and gotten rid of the body. I waited for two weeks. I searched clues around his room trying to find out who this mystery man was, but there was nothing. I owe this man my life. He has no idea how close I came to ending myself that day.”
“I hope you find him one day.”
She nods her head, clutching her glass as a look flashed across her face. It’s a look of loss. “Me too.”
We emptied our glasses in silence and I gave her a brief kiss before I headed to bed.
I dreamt of a little girl locked in her bedroom with the one man whose duty it was to protect her but instead destroyed her. My heart ached and my brain hurt. I wanted to kill this man and bury him all over again.
“Holy shit,” Melissa said from beside me. “I’ve never seen Gypsy’s this full.”
I hadn’t either. There was a huge ass line right back to the end of the street. Gripping onto my black clutch in my hand, I made my way to the bouncers.
“Lucky we won’t have to wait in line.”
A few of the girls who were waiting actually moaned out loud. They were obviously tourists in town. Nobody outwardly gave me attitude, usually.
I walked up to Blaze, who’s the brother of Nikos. “Hey B, why’s it so busy tonight?”
He gave me a chin nod and a one-arm hug. “Twisted Transistor are in there. So they called us to keep everything under control.”
I laughed, punching his arm. “No better security than the big bad Coleman brothers, huh?”
He grinned at me. “I guess not.”
The Coleman brothers were born and bred in Westbeach. They are in my brother’s age bracket and are not to be messed with. They own CLM security, and there are five of them. Nikos, Blaze, Brock, Chase and Cruz. They’re all one year apart exactly, Betty—their mom—needs a medal. Five boys, one year apart? Fuck that.
“Go on in girls,” Blaze said smiling playfully at Melissa. Melissa blushed, following us into the loud nightclub. I didn’t blame him, Melissa looked smoking. Her brunette long hair had some platinum streaks put through underneath. It suited her. She wore a cute little baby doll dress too, which showcased her boobs. Blaze is hot—really hot. All the brothers are in their different ways, but there was always this unspoken rule between them and us that stopped me from ever perusing them. Contrary to what my brother may say, I didn’t want to intentionally cause him trouble.
Pulling out a bar stool, I ordered some shots. Meadow tapped my elbow, nudging her head toward the stairway. I looked up to where she was looking to see Ryder sitting on one of the sofas upstairs, staring down at me, his arms resting casually over the top of the sofa, his legs spread wide, and a small smirk playing on his mouth. Picking up my drink that I could see out of the corner of my eye, I shot it back.
“I think he likes staring at you,” Meadow said through a smile.
I smiled at her. “I think he likes looking at any woman with a vagina and a good set of breasts.”
Melissa chimed in, “Again, no. Not Ryder. If it was Ryker or Tommy or Leo, then yes. Not Ryder, though. Do you not read the tabloids, at all? We all know he’s not gay, though, my gaydar is one-hundred percent spot on and there’s no way that lean piece of beef is gay.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe that. He is a rock god, how’s he never been pictured with women? It’s like a rite of passage.”
“We don’t know. Why don’t you go and ask him?” She mocked my question from the night before.
“Yeah, right,” I muttered.
“Well, you better think of something because they’re coming up fast,” Melissa whispered out quickly.
Ryker leaned down behind the back of my ear. “Boo!”
I swung around and glared at him. “Really? Can you not.”
Ryker chuckled and looked to Ryder. “I like this one. She doesn’t worship the ground we walk on.”
I smiled at him innocently, tilting my head. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you rather I did?”
He stopped his laughing, giving me a crooked grin, playfulness creeping into those deep blues. “Personally I’d rather you on your hands and knees…if I have the option.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not happening…ever.”
Ryder shook his head in annoyance at his brother. “Shut up, Ryker.” Before nudging his head toward the dance floor. My heart skipped a beat at the motion, butterflies setting off deep inside my belly. Jesus, I needed to calm down.
Standing from my seat anyway, he reached his hand out and I looked at Ryker, who was watching Ryder intently again with disbelief in his eyes. Melissa sucked in a breath from behind me at the same time I exhaled out a breath of air. My eyes widened before shrugging and placing my hand with his. His touch was soft, but still rough, the warmness of his long and strong fingers wrapped around mine, and my insides melted at the mere feeling of having his hand with mine. He smiled a half smile at me and caressed my palm with his thumb before pulling me gently to him and leading me toward the crowd. We weaved through the mass of people as they parted like the Red Sea, managing to receive a whole lot of scowls on my way, but shrugging them off. Like I’m not used to being scowled at. My family are feared here, but with fear came respect, and with respect came fear. A lot of families feared us but didn’t
like us.
When we reached the VIP area upstairs, he sat on one of the sofas, pulling me gently down next to him. I shuffled in while he poured two glasses of Gran Patrón Burdeos, taking this time to check him out thoroughly. His inky dark hair was shaved short on the sides, sticking up on the top, textured perfectly. It looked like he spent hours styling it, but when he ran his hands over the top, you could see he put hardly any effort into at all. It naturally sat like that. His five-o-clock shadow beard was perfectly trimmed and he wore dark, loose fitting denim jeans with a white Henley top under his leather jacket. He had a lip ring and a medium sized stretcher in one of his ears. Handing me my drink, he looked at me with his piercing blue eyes, which were shaped around thick dark eyelashes that matched his hair. He tipped his glass up to his mouth, smiling around the rim.
“I thought I’d apologize properly for my brother’s behavior last night.”
I took a drink and smiled. “It’s fine. It’s forgotten already.”
He nodded his head, keeping his eyes locked on mine.
My skin prickled to boiling point, my cheeks flushing out like a throbbing heat waving over my skin.
“Shit,” I whispered, pulling my eyes away from him and taking another sip of my drink.
“What?” he asked around a smile.
“Nothing. It’s just…nothing.” Running his tongue over his bottom lip, he smirked again. “Are you lying to me?” he asked with a crooked smirk and an arched eyebrow, running his long index finger along his upper lip. My hungry eyes following the motion.
“Maybe,” I answered honestly.
He laughed, taking hold of my hand again, pulling me closer to him.
“What are you doing?” I asked him, searching his eyes.
“I’m doing whatever I want to do, that all right with you?” I thought over that question for a few seconds because somehow, I felt like he meant something entirely different.
“That depends on what it is you are ‘wanting to do,’” I tilted my head to the side.
