But what did I know?
I turned eighteen six months ago. The world still considered me a kid, no voice to be heard.
Aunt Jane said she was buying a house and that’s why we had to be patient.
Whatever.
I turned up the volume on the TV.
The argument continued and finally came to an end.
That usually meant Aunt Jane would come upstairs to bed and Jim would go down the basement and drink. There was a rumor that Jim had a girlfriend already, which I know hurt Aunt Jane, even if they were getting divorced.
When my bedroom door opened I figured it was Aunt Jane. Sometimes she’d come to me to cry. She’d sit on the edge of the bed and cry her eyes out, apologizing to me. That put a lot of pressure on me to act more adult-like, even though nobody seemed to care when I wanted to do something for myself.
Like live with King.
I had wanted to do that for a long time but it always got shut down.
I popped my head up from the bed and saw Jim entering my room. He was holding a bottle of scotch.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“That’s no way to talk to me,” he said in a slurred voice. “You’re getting that bitchy attitude from your aunt.”
“Get out of my room.”
“This is my room,” he said. “Every room in this house is my room. I pay the fucking mortgage, don’t I? I pay for everything.”
Jim stumbled to my closet and opened it. He started to tear clothes out, throwing them to floor. Each time he did so, he said I paid for this!, which wasn’t true at all. I worked hard. I saved money. I bought my own stuff.
I climbed out of bed, secretly tucking my cell phone into my back pocket.
“Jim, please don’t,” I said.
He turned and was holding a tank top. “I’d like to see you in this. Nothing but this.”
“Ew,” I said.
He threw the tank top to the floor. “You owe me. Teasing me for a long time. Knowing what you look like. Knowing the kind of guy I am.”
A second later he was touching me. One hand on my shoulder, the other hand reaching for my waist. I swung my foot, kicking his shin. He let out a yell and then lifted his hand, slapping me against my jaw. I fell back into my desk, knocking over a lamp.
Jim came after me, his body was too close to mine. There was something disgusting burning in his eyes.
“Help!” I screamed.
Jim cackled. He grabbed my hair and turned, pulling me toward my bed.
My bedroom door blasted open again and Aunt Jane was there.
“Jim!” she yelled. “No!”
“Shut up!” Jim yelled. “This is her fault. I’m going to make everyone pay for this.”
Aunt Jane came after Jim. She hit him with her shoulder, sending him stumbling away from me.
I kicked back on the bed and grabbed for my cell phone.
I watched in horror as Jim and Aunt Jane were literally wrestling each other. Spinning around. Aunt Jane hitting the dresser, sending the TV to the edge. Picture frames crashing to the floor. Grunts. Growls. Curse words. Nasty words like slut and cunt being thrown around.
I was never so scared in all my life.
So I did what felt right - even if it was wrong.
I sent a text to King.
By the time King got to the house, the situation had calmed a little. Aunt Jane and I were downstairs in the kitchen, both of us frazzled and crying.
King was at the back door, opening it, rushing inside.
“Where is he?” King asked.
“What did you do?” Aunt Jane asked me.
I opened my mouth but I couldn’t respond.
“You two stay right here,” King said.
“Wait!” I cried out.
But King was already on the move.
He literally met Jim face to face at the large archway of the kitchen. Jim had another bottle of booze in his hand.
“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jim said when he saw King.
King put a hand out and pushed at Jim’s chest. “You stay the fuck back. You’re done here.”
“Get the fuck out of my house, asshole.”
“You touched them?” King asked. “You put your hands on not one woman, but two? One you married? One I love?”
“Fuck off, punk,” Jim said.
King swung and punched the bottle out of Jim’s hand. It hit the floor and broke.
Jim jumped at King.
“Stop!” Aunt Jane yelled.
But it was too late.
This was a long time coming and building.
King grabbed Jim by the shirt and spun him around and threw him into the kitchen island. He went right after Jim, throwing a punch, connecting with Jim’s jaw. Jim toppled to the floor, right on his ass. He then started to kick, over and over.
I couldn’t see Jim but I could hear the sound of the thuds as King kicked Jim.
“Stop him right now,” Aunt Jane said to me.
I lunged forward and almost over the island. I grabbed King by his shirt.
“King. Stop. You can’t kill him.”
King looked at me. I told myself I would never forget that look. The rage. The hatred. Knowing that the man he was finally going after was the man who kept us apart for years. Ruined perhaps the greatest love story we’d both ever encounter.
King stopped.
He then walked around the island and hugged me. I hugged him back. I broke down in tears.
“He can’t ever do that again,” King said, talking right to Aunt Jane.
“He won’t,” Aunt Jane said. “We’re leaving. Tonight.”
“Good,” King said. “Figure out what happens and let me know what to prepare for.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, looking up at King.
“I beat him up in his own house,” King said. “I’m going to go to jail for that.”
“No you’re not,” Aunt Jane said. “If he thinks about calling the police I’ll have him put away for hitting me and Lindsey.”
“Okay,” King said. “Do whatever you need to do. I can help, too. I can find a place for you two. Somewhere to hide from him.”
That was one of the most important nights of my life. The best and worst all mixed together.
King grabbed my face and forced me to look at him. Our eyes locked right there in the kitchen. A house of hell. Jim on the floor, groaning in pain. Aunt Jane somewhere behind me.
“I fucking love you, sweetie,” King whispered. “I’ll always take care of you.”
“I love you, King,” I whispered back.
“You two get out of here,” Aunt Jane said. “I’m trusting you, Kingston. Just go. Keep her safe.”
“Always,” King said.
And just like that, King grabbed me by the hand and led me out of that house.
I cried and smiled at the same time when I climbed on the back of his motorcycle.
I threw the middle finger to the house as he sped away.
I had loved King for a long time before that night. But that was the night I knew I would never truly be happy unless I was with him.
24
(lindsey)
After a staff meeting revealed the intentions to close the facility I was drained and ready for a drink. Going to Aunt Jane’s proved to be wise because she always had wine ready to go. Along with pot, but I didn’t touch the stuff. She didn’t smoke around me though, which I respected. And even the wine, I managed one glass and then quit because it didn’t sit right. Nothing sat right. All I could do was stare at my cell phone, waiting for time to speed up so King would come back.
I had no clue where he was. Why he was there. What he was doing. And if he’d actually come back. Waiting a week was torture, but if something happened and he was gone for weeks, months, or years (again), I was screwed.
“So you need to stay here why?” Aunt Jane asked. “Leaky gas? Water main break? Bugs?”
I looked at Aunt Jane. “King told me t
o.”
“Kingston. Again.”
“Not again. He was never…”
“So that guy you were seeing,” Aunt Jane said.
“And the guy you were seeing? The one younger than me?”
She waved a hand. “He fell too hard and fast. I had to let him go. Packed his lunchbox and sent him away to the bus stop.”
“That is gross,” I said. “So gross.”
Aunt Jane grinned. “Tell me about King.”
“You know about King. He somehow got out of prison and now he’s gone to do something, somewhere. He told me I should stay with you. Things with Nelson didn't end so well.”
I gave her to quick, one minute story of what happened the night Nelson hit me and King beat the shit out of him.
All Aunt Jane could do was smile. I always knew that Aunt Jane had a thing for King. At least that was one obsession she could manage to control herself from though. She knew what King had always meant to me.
“Oh, Kingston,” Aunt Jane said. “Always the same. You two were always on that path together.”
“What path is that?”
“Destiny,” she said. “It’s a tough path though because no matter what, you’re always going to feel it for each other.”
“That strangely makes sense,” I said. “I have no clue what he’s doing and no clue what’s going to happen.”
“So you take what’s in front of you and run with it,” Aunt Jane said. “That’s what I would do.”
“I want more. Is that wrong?”
“You want more,” Aunt Jane said and nodded. “Who doesn’t want more? That’s why we’re alive and doing what we do. Sometimes you just have to accept what’s here and that has to become good enough.”
“That’s the thing, Aunt Jane. King hasn’t told me much.”
“And what do you want him to say? If he tells you the truth and it breaks your heart, how does anyone win?”
I adverted my eyes. I knew she was right.
“What about you?” I asked her. “You’ll never settle because of destiny.”
Aunt Jane reached for my hand. “No, Lindsey. I didn’t have destiny. I had a romance obsession that scarred me for life. Don’t compare yourself to me. Learn from me. You were there with me through the worst of it all. Running out of that house from Jim. Scrambling to buy this house. Trying to make sure I could keep my hours at my job, get you through the last little bit of high school. It wasn’t easy.”
“And I never thanked you for that,” I said.
“You don’t need to. That’s what a… a mother would do.”
The night took that turn then, leaving me and Aunt Jane hugging each other, crying. Yeah, she had done some dumb things in life but she always took care of me. Even then, letting me stay with her. I had no idea what to expect with King being away. If I’d ever see him again.
That night, as I slept in my old bed in my old room, old memories flooded back to me. I ended up turning on the light in the middle of the night. And I did something I hadn’t done in a really long time.
I wrote King a letter.
Some days moved fast, some days moved slow. I tried to immerse myself in work but it was a negative week. Three people passed away, two got very ill, and the swirling rumors about the building were almost like a vicious tornado threatening to suck anyone up who wanted to gossip for a little bit.
My little rooftop cigarette smoking heaven escape was no more. There were always at least five to ten people up there, smoking and gossiping. I couldn’t escape the negativity.
I also got a real glimpse at Aunt Jane’s life of dating. A new guy every day I came home. Sometimes they were her age, sometimes they were younger. Lucky for me she didn’t bring anyone home for some extra fun.
So when I pulled up to the front of the house and saw two cars in the driveway I figured it was just another date. I was almost jealous for a few seconds, wishing I had the capability to live that way. But there was no way I could go out with anyone. Not with King back and not without answers from King as to what was going to happen next between us.
I threw my bag and purse over my shoulder and walked to the porch. I opened the door and expected to see Aunt Jane on the couch with her new friend. But they were at the kitchen table. I tossed my stuff to the dining room table and followed the smell of coffee.
Coffee? In the afternoon?
Aunt Jane was at the table.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey to you,” she said. “How was work?”
“Terrible.”
“That’s why there’s wine,” she said with a wink.
I pointed to the empty seat at the table that had a coffee mug in front of it. “Who is…”
“Oh, yeah,” Aunt Jane said. “We have a problem with the one generator down the street. Electric company is going to have to change a wire or something. So the guy stopped by to give me a heads up. They’re going to try and do it without knocking out power, but we might lose power.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Okay then,” another voice said. “I think we’ve…”
The voice trailed off as I turned around.
I stood there, feeling a shockwave ripple through my body.
It was the guy. That guy.
“Hello there,” he said and offered his hand.
He did not look like an electric company worker. He was too casual. His eyes were full of shit. Even his handshake was pathetic.
It was the guy I had seen King talking to right outside my kitchen window. The morning King stood there in his jeans with no shirt on. This was the guy. The guy King wouldn’t tell me about. Yet he was right there in Aunt Jane’s kitchen.
He pushed his chair back in and grabbed the coffee mug. He took a drink. “This is delicious coffee, ma’am.”
“Oh, stop it,” Aunt Jane said. “It’s whatever is on sale.”
“But you made it,” the man said. “Remember that.” Then he looked at me. “Sorry to disrupt your afternoon. I’m sure you’re very busy. Or at least eager to relax after work.”
“Yeah, right,” I whispered. “I… I’m going to do just that.”
The man walked the coffee mug to the sink and then pointed to the door from the kitchen that led to a side porch.
“Mind if I take that exit?” he asked.
“Not at all,” Aunt Jane said. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“Of course,” he said. “I’m hoping we don’t have to touch the neighborhood wiring though. We won’t know until we open the box and see where the wire went bad.”
Aunt Jane nodded and smiled.
The guy left the house and I charged after him, locking the door. I scrambled to the kitchen sink and watched as he climbed into his car and backed down the driveway.
I spun around and looked at Aunt Jane. “What did you do?”
“What?”
“You let a total stranger in the house.”
“He’s…”
“He didn’t have a shirt with the electric company’s name on it. His car is a normal car. Don’t you know people get robbed with schemes like that?”
“He said…”
“If there was something wrong with a wire, wouldn't the company call you? Or write you? Or…” I was starting to shake. I took a deep breath. “Aunt Jane, listen to me. That guy was talking to King. I saw them. Right before King said he had to leave for a week. He’s tied into all of this somehow.”
“What?” she asked, her jaw looking like it was going to smack off the table.
“Yes,” I said. “I told you this stuff was crazy. Oh, I need to try and call King. Tell him that the guy was here.”
“Why would he be here then?” Aunt Jane.
“Could be anything. Checking for King. Trying to find me. Oh, shit, what if he was at my apartment?”
“Wait a second,” Aunt Jane. “You really think it could be that?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
I tried to call King. Three times. Ther
e was no answer.
That was the exact moment I no longer felt safe.
I needed him… I needed my King.
25
(king)
*NOW*
I had my bag packed and attached to the back of my motorcycle. I looked back at the cabin with no remorse. I was ready to head back into town and see Linds. It had been a long fucking week. A lot of conversation between me and the boys, and that also included talking to Uncle Jakey.
We had our story for Anderson.
So I would have to wait until Anderson got in contact with me.
The cell reception was choppy and Slam was the only one who had a phone that was able to take the calls.
My cell started to go crazy on the ride back into town but I wasn’t able to check it. I had to hit the clubhouse before I could go see Linds.
The garage was in full swing, business as usual. Which was good.
I went into the office and cut to the left, going right for chapel. Uncle Jakey was at the head of the table while the rest of us started to fill in the empty seats.
“Any contact yet?” Uncle Jakey asked me without hesitation.
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m sure he’ll be all over my ass when I leave here though.”
“I’ve filled everyone in on what’s going on,” he said. “We’re all on the same page here.”
“In a book I don’t want to fucking read,” Ari said. “What if this ends with King going back to prison? Getting the needle?”
“Then that’s my fate,” I said. “This isn’t about protecting me. This is about protecting the Reap. The name. The cut. The club. All of you.”
“I’m gathering up what I need,” Uncle Jakey said. “We’ll talk about a plan soon enough. I have some more calls to make. This is a tricky situation to be in.”
“Why this guy?” Matteo asked.
“Why not?” Uncle Jakey asked, obviously avoiding the question.
I looked at Knox and gritted my teeth. We had a few deep talks up in the mountains about Uncle Jakey and what he meant to the Reap. For fuck’s sake, he didn’t wear a leather cut. He didn’t represent the MC at all. It was just a power and pride kind of thing.
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