Burn

by Jc Emery

  “I gave you my word that I would never hurt you. That includes not putting you in danger.”

  “But you—” She clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head in dismissal of her thought. I was gearing up for a fight, but she just backed down. How disappointing.

  “I have something to take care of real quick, and I need you to stay in the car,” I say. Mindy’s head snaps around from side to side. Realization dawns on her face as her eyes scan her surroundings. She stares at Trigger’s and Duke’s bikes as they roll down the street and block the driveway of the fucking crack den she tried to buy from the other day. They climb off their Harleys in unison and remove their helmets.

  “What are you doing?” she asks on a desperate plea.

  I bring the SUV up to the curb and park in front of the fire hydrant in the red zone. With the Suburban in park and the keys in hand, I open my door and shake my head as she reaches for her door handle.

  “Business meeting. Stay in the car, Melinda.”

  She says nothing, but her eyes practically bug out of her head as I exit the car and lock it up behind me and set the alarm. She can still get out, but at least I’ll hear her if she does.

  “Ready for s’mores?” Trigger asks as he shakes the bottle of lighter fluid at me with a leather-gloved hand and a huge grin on his face. He walks down the driveway and eyes the house.

  Duke heads past me with a simple nod as he tosses his lighter in the air and focuses on the other side of the house. He catches sight of Mindy in the SUV and gives her a friendly nod. I take my eyes off the house long enough to see her smile and give him a big wave. I know she was staying with Duke and Nic for a few weeks before her attack, but how fucking close did they get? I fight back the urge to shoot her a dirty look. She doesn’t smile enough these days, and if this asshole is her friend and he can make her smile, then fuck it. It’s fine. Besides, Nic would cut his balls off and feed them to him afterward if he fucked around on her.

  The creaking of the front door draws my attention away from Mindy and Duke and toward the house where Clarence, who prefers to be called Smirk, stands with his hands in his pockets. He’s expecting me, but two of my brothers flanking the sides of his house is probably a surprise. With quick strides, I walk up the cement pathway and take the stairs of the porch two at a time until Clarence and I are face to face.

  He lifts his arms beside his head and takes a step back saying, “I didn’t give her nothing and I called you right away, just like I told you I would.”

  “I know.” I eye his skinny as fuck frame and the scabs that have formed on his chin and the inside of his arms. He’s got tracks up and down the inner curve of his elbow, and his teeth are various shades of yellow with tinges of brown at the gums.

  “We square?”

  “You’re selling shit drugs in my town after you were so politely asked to stop.”

  “Man, you said that shit was cool. Said I’d catch a break if I keep you clued in about your girl.”

  “And I’m keeping my word. Is there anybody else home right now?”

  “Why?”

  My eyes narrow and I make a tsk sound with my tongue as I shake my head. Duke, who’s in earshot, leaves his post and walks to the SUV. I unlock the car with the remote from my pocket.

  “Because I’m here to teach a lesson, not deliver a message. Now, it would be wise of you to answer the question.”

  “Nah, man. It’s just me.” Smirk shifts awkwardly on his feet, hopping around uncomfortably.

  From behind me, Duke clears his throat. He and Mindy are standing at the foot of the steps. She’s close to him but not touching. She has her hands shoved in his jean pockets, her eyes volleying between mine and her former dealer’s uneasily.

  “Mindy, Clarence here is under strict orders not to sell to you.” I keep my face firm, refusing to soften under her wide, fearful eyes. She tears up and her chin wobbles, but she doesn’t break eye contact. This has to be fucking humiliating and painful for her. As much as I hate to cause her any pain, she needs to know that I won’t let anything hurt her—including herself.

  “He didn’t sell me anything.” Her eyes close slowly, and she scrubs at her face with shaky hands. When she returns her attention to me, she slumps her shoulders like she’s all out of fight.

  “I know,” I say. She seems to relax a little. I can’t look at her as I say this, so I turn back toward Clarence. “Or he’d already be dead.”

  Trigger swings himself up on the porch using the railing and tosses Clarence the bottle of lighter fluid. My brother hasn’t looked this happy since the last time he and Grady got into it. “Instead, he’s just going to burn down his own house. Aren’t you, Clarence?”

  The pathetic fuck fumbles with the bottle of lighter fluid and nearly drops it on his own damn foot. “I ain’t burning down nothin’.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” Mindy says in exasperation. My breath catches at how vulnerable she sounds. I hate doing this to her, even if I am doing it for her. Catching Trigger’s eye, I nod and jump off the porch, landing in the dirt, and trade places with Duke who, along with Ryan, closes in on Clarence. I position myself between Mindy and the street so I can stop her if she tries to run. I was going easy on her, letting her figure her own shit out, but the moment she tried to score, all that changed. It’s clear to me now that she can’t do this on her own. She may not know it, but she needs me.

  “Yes, we do. I’ve made contact with every dealer I know from as far north as Eureka down to Santa Rosa and as far east as Reno. Nobody is going to sell to you. The ones I don’t know are being put on notice. Any motherfucker stupid enough to sell to you will have a price on his head worth ten grand.” I wait for that to sink in. She turns to me with tears in her eyes. She’s not angry, but I can’t quite make out what’s going on in her head. She seems at war with herself. I open and close my fists at my side to stop myself from grabbing hold of her and never letting go. “Let this be a teachable moment for you, Mindy. You hold the lives of countless people in your hands. The next person you try to score from dies. The next person who hurts you dies. The next person who stands too close to you, looks at you wrong, or just bugs me fucking dies.”

  She whips around and places her hands on my cut above my pecs and leans in. I suck in a sharp breath at the weight of her hands on me. She doesn’t seem to realize she’s touching me. Good. That means she’s fucking listening to what I’m telling her. I don’t like repeating myself.

  “Why?” Her voice is strangled with untold emotion. She pushes on my chest and then grabs ahold of my cut, fisting it in her hands. Tears fall down her cheeks as she lets her head fall forward. “I don’t want anybody else to get hurt.”

  Very slowly, I raise my hand to her chin and stop before I touch her. She doesn’t jump or take a step back, so I give in to the want and let myself feel her soft skin as I tip her face up so she has to look at me. Her chest rises and falls with shaky breaths, and she locks her jaw in an attempt to stop its unwanted movement. Fuck. I’m affecting her, not in the way I’d like, but I’ll take it. Everything in me wants to consume, own, protect, and punish this woman. She’s strong and defiant and so goddamn broken. It’s like she was made for me.

  “Nothing and no one will stop me from protecting you.”

  “It’s not Smirk’s fault—it’s mine.” Her chin sags in shame as she lowers her eyes. She speaks with a slowness that’s tinged with such guilt and defeat that it’s almost gratifying. “I almost messed up everything I’ve worked so hard for. Don’t punish him because I fucked up.”

  “I’m not. He gets to live.”

  Her head shoots up in confusion. I’m not sure where I lost her. Feeling brave, I place my hand at the small of her back. She jumps slightly before settling and letting me lead her away from the house. She’s back in the SUV as I turn to see Clarence shouting at Trigger and Duke about fairness and customer service and some other nonsense about running his business out of his car. I think I even hear the sad fu
ck crying. He was warned about selling his shit in town. We can’t keep the town totally clean, but at least we can have a policy about quality. What Clarence sells is shit, so fucking far from pure that it’s anybody’s guess how many of his customers have almost died from it. Aside from the danger, the lack of concern over quality just pisses me off. If you’re going to do something, fucking do it right.

  Duke tosses Clarence a cheap disposable lighter as he and Trigger hop down off the porch. I walk around the SUV and climb into the driver’s seat. I follow Mindy’s line of sight to the house as Clarence runs off the porch, followed by a bright, furious flame that’s spreading across the front of the house. When he reaches the lawn, he crouches down, clutching his head and rocking back and forth. Duke and Trigger head for their bikes and ride off. I start up the SUV, and we trail behind them but part ways as they head for Ma and Pop’s place and I take Mindy home. It kills me to leave her, but she’s not mine.

  Chapter 4

  Jim leads Michael from my bedroom and into the living room where he sits down on the coffee table and points at the couch. Michael walks in front of me and Duke with a relaxed gait that I don’t expect. Duke and I flank Pop’s sides and remain standing. I know Michael and Jim have gotten closer and have almost come to an understanding in the last few weeks as far as his captivity is concerned. As it stands, we’re still at odds as for how to handle Michael. I don’t even know what we’re going to do with Scavo now, too.

  “You trust this guy?” Jim says with his gaze firmly on Michael. His brows are drawn together, and he’s doing his best to keep a blank look on his face, but it’s not really working. As Michael takes a moment before he responds, Ryan is in the other room bitching at Grady for something or other. Probably for not shooting Scavo on sight. Trigger’s always had a temper, but his willingness to cap dudes is getting to historic levels. I don’t approve simply because a dead motherfucker is a silent motherfucker, and we need some goddamn answers already.

  “Yeah, I do. He’s good people.” Michael leans forward a little bit and clasps his hands together in front of him. “You know you can trust me.”

  I sit and wait for Jim to agree. Months ago there’s no way in fucking hell I’d say Jim and Michael would be getting along. Not because Michael hurt his twin sister. No, for Jim it’s because Michael hurt what belongs to him. The way Jim sees it is that if Alex belongs to Ryan, then she belongs to the club. Aside from the fact that she’s supposed to be under our protection, she’s one of us now because of my brother.

  I’m still not at a place where I’m cool with calling her my sister, even if that’s who she is. It’s hard to go down that road with her being Trigger’s woman. Sometimes I think I can’t let myself accept her for who she is because of him and not because of our history. Regardless, she’s Forsaken, and that means she belongs to us. That much I’ve come to accept.

  Michael’s eyes slide over to mine, and he holds them there for a long minute. The kid has already been given the lowdown on his family history. I can’t remember when Jim told him since I found out after the fact, but ever since then, Michael looks at me differently. His eyes fall on my scar, and he turns away quickly but not enough for me to avoid seeing the difficult pity in his eyes. I fucking hate pity. It doesn’t do me any good. We’re all fucked up and scarred—it’s just that mine are visible to the entire fucking world thanks to Carlo Mancuso. I wonder what it’s like to know your father is such an epic cocksucker. Can’t say I can empathize with him since I don’t even know who my father is. My dad, though, that’s Jim. He couldn’t be more my dad if he were my own blood.

  “Listen, we just got to make sure this guy is gold before we listen to a fucking thing he has to say,” I say. I redirect my eyes from Michael to Jim to avoid having to face the younger brother I still don’t really know. Michael and Alex just bring me back to a place I’d rather not be. At least I see some of Ruby in Alex. The only thing I see of Ma in Michael is his eyes. Otherwise, he looks exactly like the bastard he was named after.

  “I fucked up and hurt our sister. I won’t let that happen again,” Michael says and stops there. He’s not much for trying to convince me of anything anymore, but this is different. He’s bringing up shit he never has before, and damn if it doesn’t make my veins run ice cold.

  Our sister.

  “You’re not exactly someone I put much faith in.” I can feel Pop’s eyes carefully roaming my face to see if Michael’s statement is going to set me off. Part of me wishes it would so I can beat the shit out of the stupid fuck and act like I couldn’t help myself. Ma would be pissed if I pulled something like that, though. She’s got enough on her plate, and the last thing she needs is infighting between us.

  “Your call, son.” Pop leans back, letting me take my time deciding.

  We don’t have much of a choice but to give Scavo a chance to save his own life. He might have intel the club could use, and with the way shit keeps going sideways, we need all the intel we can get. There’s so much up in the air right now, especially with Rig’s fucking betrayal and subsequent disappearance. I’d have suggested we give priority to finding the pathetic fuck, but he’s too much of a pussy to stay around here. He’s got to be long gone by now.

  I slide my eyes to Duke, who’s been silent so far. He gives a curt nod, solidifying my decision.

  “Five minutes. If Scavo has anything useful, then you have a new roommate. Otherwise, I’m going to enjoy ending him myself.”

  Michael nods his head in acceptance and looks down at his lap as he takes a deep breath and waits. I walk away from the impromptu pow-wow and fight the urge to knock Trigger’s teeth out when he starts bitching the moment he sees me. Days like today I have no clue how I’ve put up with this asshole for as long as I have without shooting him. Ma won’t like me beating the crap out of Michael, and even though she’d be more understanding of me shooting Trigger—I think—I know better than to push that theory, even if I’d only shoot him a little. Flesh wound, if that.

  “Tell me that crazy old fuck isn’t thinking about listening to a fucking thing that little parasite has to say.” Ryan spits the words out like they’re sour to the taste.

  “Give it a fucking rest,” I say. Christ, it’s like he’s a fucking ten year-old all over again, pitching a fit when he doesn’t get his way.

  “What, you spend a few weeks with Junior and suddenly he’s your fucking family? You trust him over me because he’s blood?”

  My eyes narrow at Ryan’s words. One of these days I really am going to shoot him, and I’m convinced nobody would really blame me. Ma might, but she’s never gotten riled up by Ryan’s bullshit the way the rest of us do.

  “Feeling insecure?” The words have flown off my tongue before I can stop them. He needs to shut the fuck up, and I need to not instigate this bullshit fight, but I can’t help it. “Worried that mommy doesn’t like you best anymore?”

  I wouldn’t see it if I didn’t know my brother as well as I do, but his Adam’s apple bobs—an indication that he’s upset. Otherwise, he gives no sign that my taunts bother him. I don’t regret much, but I do regret this. Ryan is particularly sensitive about Michael because of how he hurt Alex. As if meeting my sister for the first time since she was born and her not knowing who I am wasn’t enough, having to contend with Ryan falling in love with her has pushed me over the edge. He’s protective and as thoughtful as Ryan gets when he’s with her.

  “We’re dealing with this later, brother,” he says and shoves his pointer finger in my face. Ryan’s cool gray eyes and jet-black hair flood my view as he snarls at me. I’ll let him kick my ass later for my comment. I fucking deserve it. I know all too fucking well that he’s always been uncomfortable with the fact that he’s not really Ma’s son. Like since he’s not blood he’s missing out on something. He’s just a dense asshole who can’t see how she looks at him. If anyone has a right to feel inferior, it’s me. I’m the reason Ma lost so much, including Michael and Alex. I’m the reason all this shi
t went down. If she’d just aborted me when she had the chance, her life could have been so much better.

  “Meantime, get Scavo out of the fucking closet and bring him into the living room,” I say firmly. In the corner of my bedroom, Grady is huddled with his daughter, Cheyenne, and her boyfriend and our newest prospect, Jeremy. He grits his teeth but gives me a chin nod and directs a couple of Forsaken from other charters to escort Cheyenne back to Ma and Pop’s house on the other side of the property. Jeremy says a few words to Grady and disappears out of the room with Cheyenne. Asshole can play doting boyfriend later. Once she’s dropped off, he better be getting his bitch ass back here to help with all the fucking bodies.

  “You want answers, just like we all do, Ry,” I say, much quieter now. As a way of making amends, I use a name I haven’t called him since elementary school. He waits a beat before nodding his head and retrieving Scavo from the walk-in. We have Forsaken here from three different charters. Most of them know each other, some of them don’t. Like the good little soldiers they are, they all move automatically to their positions. The men who want to know what the fuck is going on head into the living room, and those who don’t want the drama head outside to keep an eye out for any more bullshit.

  The entire Fort Bragg charter is crammed into my tiny living room, with Scavo seated on the couch beside Michael. The mood is tense as fuck, but I sense an air of excitement around me. We’ve been in a fucking black hole of ignorance for almost a year now, and it’s wearing on me. I’m supposed to be our tech guy who can figure out puzzles and solve club problems, and it’s pretty much impossible to do my job when I don’t have a clue where to start and I can’t stay upright long enough to figure it out. As the club’s treasurer, I’m also the numbers guy. We’re not in the red, but if we keep spending the way we have, we will be. Everything’s happened in such quick succession this last year that we can’t catch our breath, and solving problems takes time and money we don’t really have. It’s fucking time we got answers and stopped bleeding ourselves dry.