Beyond Reason: Teller's Story, Part Two (Lost Kings) (Lost Kings MC Book 9)

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Beyond Reason: Teller's Story, Part Two (Lost Kings) (Lost Kings MC Book 9) Page 3

by Autumn Jones Lake

The two of them go back and forth in low voices for a few seconds. Heidi’s still bitching at him when he turns, gives me a smirk, flips her over his shoulder, and carries her to the staircase.

  “Put me down.” She squeals and giggles the entire way up the stairs.

  The sound of what I’m pretty sure is his hand cracking down on her ass a few times is enough to make me look around for the nearest trashcan to hurl into.

  “Some love spanks’ll be good for her.” Ravage claps his hand on my shoulder. “They’re probably going to—”

  “Finish that sentence, and I’ll kill you.”

  He raises his hands in the air in surrender but continues laughing at me.

  “Asshole,” I grumble.

  “I wouldn’t go upstairs,” Z calls out. “You know they’re going at it.”

  Christ, the second Murphy and Heidi got together, I should’ve asked to swap rooms with one of my brothers. Or moved to the other side of the damn mountain.

  “Don’t they have a room at Rock and Hope’s to defile?” I join Z who holds out his hand for a slap. “Alexa’s here, so they’re probably spending the night, aren’t they?” I ask, as I sit next to him and take the joint he offers.

  “’Fraid so, brother.”

  “Fuck this.” I really want to call Charlotte. “I’m beat. I’m going to risk it,” I say to Z who laughs.

  As I pass Murphy’s room, it’s surprisingly quiet. It better stay that way.

  Inside my room, I drop down on my bed, remembering how good it felt to have Charlotte here with me.

  Hoping she’s still up, I give her a call.

  She answers on the second ring.

  “Hey, where you been? I’ve been worried about you.” That’s a more stalker-boyfriend type of greeting than I intended, but it’s the truth.

  “Work’s keeping me busy,” she answers in a flat tone.

  “Did I wake you up?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Sorry. I was going to ask to come see you.”

  “I don’t…that’s not a good idea.”

  “How’s your trial or whatever you had going on?”

  “It’s been a rough week.”

  This whole conversation feels off, but I can’t tell if it’s fatigue or something else. “I’ll let you go back to sleep. Call me tomorrow.”

  “I—I’m going to be busy.”

  This is not the way I thought this call would go at all. “All right. Love you, Sunshine.”

  It’s quiet on her end. So quiet, I think she’s hung up on me. Then there’s a sigh or a sob. I can’t tell and it drives me nuts.

  “Charlotte, are you okay?”

  She makes a hiccupping sound that definitely makes me think she’s crying. “I love you too, Marcel. I hope you know that.”

  Before I have a chance to ask more questions, the line goes dead.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I’m scared shitless.

  My fear blocks me from processing the grief of losing my mother.

  The fear of my uncle possibly hurting Marcel won’t go away either.

  The funeral home Chuck demanded I meet him at, is a pleasant enough old Victorian house, painted a cheerful yellow and white. From memory, I park in the back. My heels click over the uneven sidewalk as I circle the building, unsure of what to do next.

  Memories of sitting on that front porch trying to keep Carter occupied during my father’s wake roll over me. My breath catches and my heart thumps painfully.

  I can’t believe she’s gone.

  Approaching the front steps slowly, I’m assaulted by a thousand different memories of my dad’s funeral. Of everyone in the club riding to the cemetery in honor of my dad.

  Of my mother downing so much vodka to blot out her grief she could barely stand up at the funeral.

  They’re both gone now.

  Carter’s sitting in a white rocking chair on the front porch but stands when he sees me. “What’s wrong?”

  “What do you think?” My tone comes out much sharper than I intended. His face falls, and I feel like absolute shit. “I’m sorry, Carter.”

  My brother’s the sweetest, most forgiving person on the planet and allows me to crush him against me. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Carter,” I whisper, hugging him even tighter.

  His body shakes from the effort of holding back his tears. “I was there,” he croaks out. “It didn’t help.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  He nods against me. “Right.”

  I know my brother. He’ll blame himself.

  “Why are you out here?”

  “Waiting for you.” He lowers his voice. “Chuck’s come unhinged. I didn’t want to be near him.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” I mutter.

  He gives me a strange look but doesn’t have a chance to question me.

  The front door opens. “You two coming in or not?” Chuck shouts.

  Carter puts his hand on my back and ushers me inside, keeping himself between Chuck and me, which I appreciate.

  Why he bothered having us meet him here eludes me. Chuck’s not interested in our input. He makes all the decisions concerning my mother and since I honestly have no idea what she wanted, I sit there mute and let him.

  When it’s finally over with, the arrangements made, the bills paid by Chuck, he walks us out to the front porch.

  “You two want to come to the clubhouse?” He gives me a pointed look. “Just gettin’ together with family.”

  I can’t think of anything I want to do less.

  “I’m exhausted.” It sounds feeble even to my ears, but it’s the truth.

  Ignoring my brother, Chuck pulls me aside. “You remember what I said, right?”

  “How you threatened my boyfriend? Yes, I remember.”

  His eyes turn cold. “It wasn’t a threat. You don’t want to push me on this one, Charlotte.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  He pats my cheek. “Good girl.”

  “Come home with me,” I beg Carter once Chuck’s gone. “You shouldn’t be there alone.”

  “It’s fine. I want to look through some things before Chuck gets his hands on the house.”

  I can’t think of anything of value in that house that Mom didn’t sell off a long time ago. “Like what?”

  “Photo albums. Some pictures of Dad. Mom’s journals. You know, before she lost her ever-loving mind.” He flashes a pained smile. “The stuff Chuck will just toss in a dumpster.”

  “Carter.” My heart’s breaking and I have to pause to collect myself. “I don’t want you doing it alone. Let me run home and change clothes.”

  “Bring pizza or something?”

  “You got it.”

  Less than an hour later, I stumble into my apartment intent on getting in and out.

  Marcel’s waiting for me in the living room.

  My heart clenches at the sight of him. For the briefest second I consider falling against him and sharing everything.

  Christ, what if my uncle has someone watching my apartment?

  “Where you been, Sunshine?” he asks, moving in to kiss me.

  I duck out of his hold. “Why are you here?”

  “You sounded really down last night.” He steps back, frowning. “I missed you.” His head tilts. “What’s wrong.”

  What if Chuck’s on his way over now?

  “Nothing. I had a bad day and I want to chill out.” At least that statement’s true.

  “Okay, so let’s chill.”

  “By myself.”

  A flash of hurt crosses his face, but he squares his shoulders. “Can I do anything for you? You want to talk about it?”

  The end of my nose tingles and tears sting my eyes. I don’t deserve this sweet, caring man who doesn’t realize every second he’s with me puts him in danger.

  “No, I don’t want to talk about it. Can’t I have one night without you in my face?” My voice cracks and I have to look away.

  “Are you mental?”
He rattles the key to my apartment in front of me. “You gave me this.”

  “Yeah, well, it didn’t mean come on over whenever you feel like it.”

  “Charlotte,” he says, using a more reasonable tone. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing. I told you. I want to be alone. I need some space.” Part of me hates myself for giving into my uncle’s demands. But I don’t know what else to do. “You’re suffocating me.”

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, he sets my key on the desk and opens the door. “Let me know when you’re feeling a little less psycho.”

  As soon as he’s gone, I want to run after him and spill everything. Beg him to forgive me, protect me, and figure out this mess.

  But that’s a selfish thing to ask when I know how much it will cost him. So instead, I put my back to the door and stare at the wall.

  The week’s events sucker punch me in the gut.

  My mother’s gone.

  My uncle threatened me. Threatened the man I love.

  My brother’s traumatized.

  And I just chased away the only person who could help me make sense of everything.

  I can’t tell Marcel the truth. It’s safer for him to write me off as a crazy bitch.

  The alternative is unacceptable—sparking a war between his club and my uncle’s.

  That’s exactly what will happen if Marcel finds out my uncle threatened me. Put his hands on me. A man like Marcel won’t let that sort of behavior stand. He’ll go after Chuck. The Wolf Knights will retaliate and it will be a disaster. People will get hurt.

  If I allow that to happen, no, if I cause that to happen, Marcel’s club will never forgive him. His club’s his whole life. His family. My uncle’s club ruined my life once, I won’t allow them to rip Marcel’s life apart.

  The numbness that followed me all day ebbs and I slide down to the floor. As I sit there in my darkening apartment, the tears finally fall.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “What the fucking fuck?” I mutter for maybe the millionth time since leaving Charlotte’s place.

  I wanted to stay, but I didn’t know the words to break through her freak out.

  Shit, maybe I don’t know her as well as I thought I did.

  For a brief, insane moment, I consider calling her brother to see if he knows what’s going on with Charlotte, but then I lock that crazy down. One, I don’t know how to reach him and two, I’m not asking her little brother for advice on how to date his sister.

  I drag my sorry ass into the clubhouse, hoping no one’s downstairs to annoy me.

  No such luck.

  “How’s that pussy whip tastin’?” Z asks with a smirk as soon as he sees me.

  Goddamn is he a dick lately.

  “What’s up, you lazy shit? Why aren’t you down at Crystal Ball?”

  Dressed in only a pair of loose running shorts, he’s busy tying his sneakers while the dogs dance around him.

  “I was there all damn morning,” he answers without looking up.

  When he’s finished, he gives me a more serious appraisal as I drop down on the couch across from him.

  “You look like shit. What’s wrong?”

  Before I have a chance to tell him to fuck off, the front door opens.

  Z’s eyes widen at the prospect of fresh meat to torment. “Speaking of whipped,” he yells to Murphy.

  Murphy raises an eyebrow and slows his steps. “What’d I walk into?”

  “Zero’s being a dick.”

  “So, the usual.”

  Z’s devilish gaze swings between us and I brace myself for whatever obnoxious taunts are about to come out of his mouth.

  “Either of you tired of banging the same chick yet?”

  A growl works out of my throat. Don’t care for Z talking about my sister or Charlotte that way. Even if I don’t know where I stand with Charlotte. “Really, bro?”

  “Let it go.” Murphy slaps my arm. “He’s just jealous.”

  “Please, if anyone’s jealous.” Z lifts his chin at us. “It’d be you two.”

  Murphy’s already shaking his head. “Nope. Sorry. It’s a helluva lot better when you actually give a shit about the person you’re with.”

  Something dark passes over Z’s face. I think Murphy hit a nerve. I kick back and wait to see if Murphy’s going to keep pulling at that thread.

  Even though I’d rather not hear anything remotely related to his relationship with my sister.

  Z, on the other hand, has no problem bringing Heidi into the conversation. “You’re just saying that because you’re banging his sister.”

  Murphy takes a few steps away from me before answering. “No. I’m not going into detail because I’m banging his sister.”

  “Asshole,” I growl, leaning over to throw a punch at him. He sidesteps me easily and my fist only grazes his thigh.

  Because she has perfect timing, my sister opens the front door carrying Alexa.

  “Better hop to it, pussy-whipped boy,” Z whispers to Murphy.

  Murphy leans down, getting right in Z’s face. “Damn right. Tastes delicious. You should try it,” he says before meeting Heidi at the door. “Hey, beautiful.”

  He spends way too long groping her before they join us. Z smirks at me the whole time.

  “Hi, Uncle Z.”

  “Don’t talk to him. He’s being a dick today,” I warn her.

  “Stop it,” Heidi scolds.

  Z throws a shit-eating grin my way and holds his hands out for Alexa. “Come ’ere, princess.”

  “I’m serious, Heidi. Don’t let his foul hands touch my niece.”

  She rolls her eyes before handing Alexa to him. “Where’s Charlotte?” she asks.

  Since crazytown doesn’t seem like an appropriate answer, I lift my shoulders. Thankfully, she drops it in favor of answering some of Z’s questions about Alexa.

  I swear the gentle way he treats my niece is about his only redeeming quality lately.

  He sets Alexa in his lap, and the dogs lick and sniff her tiny feet, making her giggle. It’s a cute scene that almost makes me forget what a dick he was being five seconds ago.

  “You tired of this joker here yet, Heidi?” he asks, jerking his thumb in Murphy’s direction.

  Almost.

  Her eyes widen. I flex my fingers. Maybe a fist to Z’s face will snap him out of his mood.

  Unfazed by Z’s teasing, Heidi leans over and kisses Murphy’s cheek. “Never, ever.”

  “Aw, you two are so sweet, I’m about to throw up,” Z cracks.

  Heidi takes Alexa from his arms and pats his shoulder in a consoling way. “Don’t be jealous, Uncle Z. You’ll find someone one day,” Heidi says with a knowing smirk of her own. Murphy and I crack up.

  My sister isn’t easily fooled by any of us. And while she may love and respect all of my brothers, she’ll always take Murphy’s and my side over anyone else.

  “That’s it.” He stands and signals the dogs to follow him. “I’ve had enough abuse from you three. Taking the dogs for a run.”

  “Don’t trip,” I call out. Z answers with his middle finger.

  “Does Charlotte have any friends you could set Z up with?” Heidi asks after he leaves.

  I cock my head, amused that my sister’s worried about playing matchmaker for Z, who can pick up any chick he wants whenever he wants. “Hell no. I’m not subjecting any of her friends to that deviant.”

  Murphy chuckles. “Been there done that. He already ‘dated’ Hope’s friend and look how that worked out,” he reminds us.

  “Did they actually date?” Heidi asks.

  “Who fucking knows.”

  Alexa sort of closes her eyes and makes a little grunting sound. Something I learned she does right before—

  “Oh. Oh, wow. Someone needs her diaper changed.” Heidi glances at the stairs. “I think I have stuff for her upstairs.”

  “Want me to—”

  She cuts Murphy off before he can make the offer. “I got it. Keep my br
other company.”

  “What a good dad,” I tease after she leaves. “Offering to change diapers.”

  “I was going to go upstairs, grab the diapers and bring them down here,” he clarifies.

  “Asshole.”

  He chuckles then winces.

  “How’s your face?”

  “Better than yours.”

  “Please, if you looked this good, you wouldn’t need to cover your ugly mug with that big ol’ beard.”

  “Not my fault you’re not man enough to grow one.” He waves his fat finger in my face. “Whatcha got going on there? Couple chin pubes finally come in?”

  I slap his hand away. “Fuck off.”

  When he stops laughing, he levels a more serious look my way. “Seriously, you look tense. You still mad at me about the fight?”

  “I wasn’t mad. I was worried.” I tilt my head toward the stairs. “She still mad?”

  A slow grin spreads across his face.

  “Never mind. I don’t want to know,” I grumble.

  “You and Charlotte have a fight?”

  Blake knows me well. We’ve been able to read each other since we were kids. Something that developed out of self-preservation from growing up in a rough neighborhood and perfected to survive in the early days of the MC.

  “Not exactly. She kind of flipped her shit. Said I’m over at her place too much.”

  His brows furrow. “I always suspected you’d be a clinger if you found the right girl.”

  “Is that your official opinion, doc?”

  He drops the attitude. “Sorry. You two seemed tight the other day.”

  “I thought so too.”

  Not exactly familiar with sitting around talking about our feelings, we’re quiet for a few minutes. “You think her uncle got to her?” he asks.

  “Maybe. Last time she got weird it was because he ran his mouth about me.”

  “Really?”

  “Talked to him about it at the party. Told him to back off.”

  He runs his hand down his beard a few times, thinking it over. “Probably pissed him off more.”

  “Christ, she’s thirty-fucking-years old. He should butt out.”

  “Always knew you liked the older broads.”

  “You better never say that to her. And a few months doesn’t make her older, you cradle-robbing bastard.”

 

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