Origin

by Ana Jolene

  Lucky shrugged. “I guess it means more than one thing to me. Victory. Strength. Power. Fearlessness. The eagle has a fatherly connotation to it as well, representing authority, guardianship, and control. A protective spirit over a family unit. That was me.” He paused. “For a time anyway.”

  There was a touch of sadness in his voice, but I didn’t want to remark on it in case it offended him. “When did you get it?”

  “I had a friend who was a tattoo artist. I had it done a few years before the flares happened.” It was an intricate piece for sure, no doubt taking multiple sessions to complete. I eyed the exquisite detail of the wings, the liveliness of its eyes. At any moment, I would think it could fly right off his back. “It’s beautiful.”

  “It’s my favorite. Well, after my Glory MC one.”

  I found myself returning his smile. “Must have a good story behind it for it to be so special to you then.” The moment I said the words Lucky’s body stiffened, turning closed in just a blink of an eye. I drew my hand away, wondering if I had said something wrong by mistake.

  “Trust me,” he said over his shoulder. “You don’t want to know.”

  Oh, but I did. I wanted to know everything about him. But I didn’t push. Instead I just resumed my exploration of his beautiful body, growing comfortable with his presence.

  For a long time we avoided each other that we never really got the chance to get to know one another. Somehow, through the course of Lucky living with me, we’d grown closer. Even more surprising, I’d grown to trust him.

  My finger paused over a scar that I hadn’t noticed before. It was tucked under one arm far enough on his side that only a part of it could be seen from the back. “Aren’t you going to ask what that’s from?” he asked when I remained silent.

  “Not unless you want to tell me.”

  “I got it the night I tried to run away.” I froze, sensing that this topic was a fragile one. Was he feeling the same way I felt the night of the break-in? Vulnerable? A little lost? His voice lowered, barely a whisper. “Keep touching me. I like it.”

  I did as asked, only this time replacing my fingers with my mouth, spreading kisses along his spine as he continued his story. “The edge of a dumpster caught my side as I was running. I had to stop to tend to it before I could go on. But luckily it didn’t get infected or anything.”

  “Why’d you run away?”

  “I’d come home from a night shift at work, hungry as hell to find the fridge empty. That shouldn’t have surprised me though. We never had much food in the house. But that day, I was just fed up with it all. I was fifteen and tired of running a household and working for money that seemed to disappear.

  “I checked the cupboards to find one last can of ravioli, but decided that Lennon could have it when she came home from school. Just as I was putting it back, a man came out of my mother’s bedroom.” He gave me a look filled with hatred. “Didn’t know the guy, didn’t care. But the fact that he was walking around naked in my apartment pissed me the hell off.

  “He made a grab for the can. Said shit about this place never having food around every time he came here. It got me thinking, how many times had he been around without me to watch over him? How many times was he here while Lennon was?

  I blanched, sickened by the thought. If Lucky was fifteen at the time, Lennon would’ve been too young to protect herself. “I’d had it then. I told him to get the fuck out. He’d gotten what he wanted and now he needed to leave.” Lucky turned to me, anger sparking in his light eyes. “Do you know what the fucker said to me then?”

  I was almost scared to ask, his eyes taking on a hellish cast. “He said, ‘Listen, punk. I like your ma. She gives great head, but a blowjob isn’t gonna make me put up with your fucked-up attitude.’” The insult was a slap in the face. I couldn’t fathom how Lucky had taken it. “I saw red. I just fucking lost it. I grabbed the baseball bat I kept in my room with Lennon and grinned when he saw me with it.”

  “I hope you beat the shit out of him.”

  “It wasn’t until I was swinging that I saw his pupils. He was as high as a fucking skyscraper, totally blitzed out of his mind. He probably wouldn’t remember that night, let alone the fact that he just fucked my ma raw.”

  The crudeness of his words had me wincing, but this was hardly turning out to be a comforting story anyway. “He rushed towards the door, sparing one glance over his shoulder, probably to see if he could grab his clothes. I didn’t give him a choice, swinging the bat and grinning like some crazed murderer at the chance to work out my aggression on him. I wasn’t big by any means, but when you had a weapon and rage on your side, even a druggie could tell it was time to dip.

  “The fucker sprinted through the doors, skipping the elevators and going straight for the stairs. I tailed him until I could only hear his scampering footsteps.” Lucky shot me a grin, which surprised me considering his earlier mood. “It’s kinda funny now when you think about it. But shit only got worse that night.”

  Worse? How could anything get worse than that? “Done with him, I came back to the apartment, ignoring the neighbors who came to see what the ruckus was about and went to check on Ma.

  “I knocked on the door for several minutes. Hearing no response, I feared the worst.” My pulse kicked up in fear. Oh God, had he killed her? “Unable to wait any longer, I pushed inside, finding her beneath the sheets, unmoving.”

  “Lucky,” I breathed, wanting to hold him closer to me, hearing his sadness in his words.

  “I reached out, touching her shoulder and she turned. ‘There you are,’ she said. God, she nearly gave me a heart attack, but I couldn’t stand to be mad at her for long. I was just relieved that she was alive.

  “She gave me a smile. I grinned back, excited to be the center of her attention after being cast out for so long. I was ashamed to say that I was desperate for her attention. Years upon years had stacked onto each other without her ever giving a crap about me. That smile shot in my direction was a relief, like being offered water after being so parched. In that moment, I was a boy, being comforted by his mother, happily drinking it all in. It wasn’t until I felt her hands drawing up my leg that my smile dropped.”

  My blood ran cold as his words settled in. This poor boy was seeking love from his mother, only to have it turn into a nightmare.

  “I asked her to stop but my words fell on deaf ears. Her hand rose higher on my thigh, venturing too far to be appropriate.” His voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. “‘My little boy, you’ve grown up so big,’ she cooed, her voice sounding delirious. Off, you know?”

  By now, my mouth was a desert, gone grainy by the vivid memories of Lucky’s past. How could a mother do such a thing to her own child? My own heart was a painful organ in my chest, hurting just from the details Lucky had recalled. How much more would it hurt to be the one afflicted with such abuse? That explained his reaction to me when he saved me the night of my attempted rape, as well as his attitude after having found Tansy. Lucky had experienced it, had known what it felt like to be abused that way.

  “I stumbled off the bed in my haste to put some distance between us, but she was fast as she pounced on me.

  “Even as I scuttled back on my arms and heels, desperate to get to the door, quick hands landed on the fly of my jeans. I didn’t know if she was so high that she didn’t recognize her own son, but her earlier words registered in my mind then, turning me into ice. ‘My little boy, you’ve grown up so big.’”

  Lucky stopped, not speaking, possibly not even breathing. I, myself, was fighting back the urge to cry. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, knowing it wouldn’t ease his pain. “And I’m also sorry I made you tell me.” Through his retelling, Lucky had to relive it and I could tell by the trembling of his voice that he never quite got over it. Probably never would. “But you can’t feel guilty about running away from that, can you?” His silence was my answer. “You knew that if you’d stayed, she would have continued to abuse you.”


  “I left her and my sister—”

  “But you eventually came back, didn’t you? You came back for Lennon the next morning and she made the informed decision to stay with your mother.”

  “She was a child, she didn’t have a choice! She probably didn’t understand what was happening.”

  “But you made your own choice and it wasn’t a mistake. You don’t get to sacrifice yourself just so you can prevent others from suffering less.”

  “It was all for nothing anyway.” He sounded so hopeless that it broke my heart. “Lennon ended up just like her.”

  I threaded my hands through his hair, offering comfort where a mother forgot to. “Lennon has changed. You’ve helped her with that.”

  To my surprise, Lucky reached back and hooked his arm around my waist, pulling me into him until I was curled into his lap. “I don’t know how to fix it,” he murmured against my temples.

  “You’re a good man, Lucky.” I had to help him see reason. “You and I have some fucked-up pasts, but I’ve always believed that it isn’t where you come from that determines who you are. It’s what you do with your days onward that do.”

  His brow lifted and the corner of his lips twisted up, a figment of the man I knew returning. “That sounded really philosophical. You don’t think your origins set a path for the future?”

  “If I did, I’d still be an abandoned child, a sisterless loner, and a paid whore.” He winced at the raw emotion in my voice. “But I’m not anymore,” I said more strongly, confidently. “I’m whatever I want to be. And you aren’t either, Lucky. Your past doesn’t make you. You decide who you want to be.”

  His smile was a gift. And when I put my mouth on his, he opened, allowing me in. Into his arms and hopefully, one day, into his heart too.

  Lucky

  “I’m not used to this,” I admitted.

  Seven shifted. “What, snuggling?”

  “Spooning.”

  “Why? It’s nice.”

  “I disagree.” My face was currently lodged into the back of her head where strands of her blonde hair kept getting caught in my mouth whenever I spoke. “My arm underneath you has lost all feeling and the boner I have is poking you in the ass. I don’t want you thinking I’m some perv watching over you as you sleep.”

  Seven laughed and then turned around in bed to face me. “Are you trying to tell me that I’m fat?”

  “Never. I think you’re beautiful.”

  “Good save. But you can move your arm now.” She lifted herself up enough so that I could slide my dead arm out from underneath her.

  Tingles spread through my fingertips as I flexed them. “Ow.”

  With a smile, Seven took a hold of my hand and brought it to her lips, kissing the pad of each finger. My heart immediately softened at the tender gesture. Here was this tigress, kissing away the tingles in my arm.

  I never once thought that Seven and I would be in this position, lying with each other, content to just be here. Especially when we couldn’t stand each other a few months ago. “Where are we going with this, Seven?” I asked her. It all seemed so strange and yet, I found myself enjoying it.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You and I. Are we together?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t really had good luck with dating.”

  The corners of my lips tipped up even as I tried to stop it. Yeah, Seven had shit luck with men. But so far, things were going well apart from the whole Trey thing. “We’ll take it easy then.”

  “Easy,” she agreed, twining our fingers together. “You know, I haven’t ever held a guy’s hand before.” What? How was that even possible? “It’s true,” she said, gazing softly at our connected fingers. “With Daniel, it was hard because we both had issues about trust. And before that . . .” She drifted off as her mind settled back on her whoring days. “I never kissed or showed any type of affection with them. It was never about romance anyway. Just sex.”

  A riot of emotions rolled through me but apart from holding her now, there wasn’t much I could do for Seven concerning her past. She never had romance. Never had love. I wanted to be the one to give it to her. “Turn around,” I said abruptly.

  “What?”

  “Come on. Just do as I say. Lie on your side, away from me.” With a strange look she did as I asked, shifting on her side. Her wide hips created a perfect valley for my arm. I tucked my other arm underneath her again, scooting as close as I could get to her without physically lying on top of her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We’re spooning,” I informed her.

  “I thought you hated spooning.”

  “I love it,” I whispered. “With you, I fucking love it.”

  “What about your arm?”

  “My arm is fine.”

  “It won’t be in a few minutes.”

  Fuck, she was cute. “Stop worrying about my arm. It’s not going to fall off from holding you.”

  “God, I hope not. I like you holding me. Makes me feel safe.”

  “Then I’ll hold you as long as you want me to.”

  * * *

  I woke later when Seven stirred in my arms. “Everything okay?” I asked as she looked out the windows.

  Night had fallen, creating a black canvas devoid of stars and the moon. It made the inside of the house shadowy. Seven went over to turn on the lights but when she flipped the switch and nothing happened, I figured another solar flare had occurred, zapping out all electricity in the process.

  “Damn,” she said, as she felt her way back to the bed. “I wanted to go down to the kitchen to grab us something to eat.”

  I rose to kiss her. “You stay. I’ll go down to get something. You always do it.”

  “But—”

  I silenced her with another kiss, taking my time, savoring the sweetness. Pushing off the bed, I dressed and snatched my phone off the dresser table by the bed and slid it into my back pocket without a glance. With the flares, it wouldn’t be in service but at least I would have it on me when the power did come back on. You could never tell when with these crazy solar flares.

  As I made my way downstairs, navigating by memory rather than sight, I was hit by the thought of what would happen if Trey had tried to break in while Seven was in the house. What if I wasn’t here with her or was on a run with Glory MC and couldn’t be here at a moment’s notice?

  And worse, what if it happened while there was a flare? There would be no way for her to reach out for help. The thought made breathing difficult.

  I’d have to call in Angel and possibly Beck to ask if they could install additional bars on the windows like they did for Kitt’s warehouse. It wouldn’t be aesthetically pleasing, but at least Seven would be safe and it would ease my mind.

  I snatched up the flashlight that we kept on the kitchen table for moments just like these. Switching it on, I opened the fridge. My hand reached for the small Tupperware container, its contents the leftover pizza that Seven had made the other day. At least pizza was good whether it was hot or cold.

  Just as I moved to go back upstairs, my phone rang. Cursing, I reached into my back pocket again. “Yo.”

  Hastie’s voice rang clear through the line. “G’s gone missing.”

  “What?” I was supposed to bring Seven to see him before he left in the morning. “Where did he go?”

  “If I knew that, moron, he wouldn’t be missing, would he?” I cursed harshly. “He was supposed to meet us an hour ago but when he didn’t show up, we went to his place. He’s not here and there are signs of a struggle.”

  My blood chilled instantly. “They got to him,” I said, knowing it had to be the Phantoms. But how? And how was I going to tell Seven this?

  “Yeah. Looks like. We’re looking for him now but stay there in case he shows up or something.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Just do as I say. I’ll call you if we find anything,” Hastie said before hanging up.

  “Fucking hell.” As I pocketed t
he phone again, I froze. Pulling it back out, I checked the screen. Full battery. Good reception. “What the—?”

  If the phones were working then the flares hadn’t taken the lines down. And if the lines weren’t down then why was the power in the house out?

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Body Go Boom

  Lucky

  I peered out the windows, using a finger to part the curtains. The neighbors’ lights were shining brightly even through their curtains. Eyes darting farther out, I saw more lights on in the distance and felt my blood run cold. Son of a bitch! Someone had cut the power in the house.

  Instinct had me diving for the spare pistol I kept hidden underneath the couch before I sent off a quick text to Hastie. Then I quietly stalked back up the stairs where Seven was. As I approached, all my muscles were tense, locked tight with fear and panic. “Seven?” I called out.

  No response.

  The room was empty. The sheets were hanging off the edge, dragging onto the floor. The window was open, allowing a hot breeze to waft over my fear-chilled skin. Where the fuck was Seven?

  A sound had me pivoting to find Trey’s back towards me, standing in the doorway of the bathroom. In front of him, Seven had her own gun pointed straight at him, her eyes filled with both adrenaline and fear. She must’ve ran into the bathroom to grab the pistol hidden behind the toilet when she saw Trey come in, but in doing that, she had also trapped herself in a tight enclosed space.

  As I breathed out her name, Trey turned around, finally noticing me.

  “Don’t move!” Seven barked as she held the pistol in her hand up higher. I hoped to hell she knew how to use that gun.

  Trey turned back towards her, giving her a sweet grin. “You can’t shoot me.” The grin built into a smug smile. “Only I know where G is.”

  Seven blanched at the words. “What are you talking about? What happened to G?”

  “Why don’t you ask him?” Trey answered, tossing his head in my direction. Seven’s panicked eyes met mine, pleading for information.