Before that, he had always just been the guy I had a crush on. He had shaggy brown hair and green eyes. He was tall, already taller than the other guys and his hair fell over his eyes while he smoked his stolen cigarettes. I used to try my best to not stare at him when I walked past, but he was just so hot. He was my teenage crush, the guy I wrote in my diary about, and it was never supposed to be anything else.
Especially since I was planning to run away. My plan of going to San Francisco had started taking shape when I was fifteen. I started collecting money for it, making plans and researching ideas for the move. It had taken me two years to come up with the final plan. I didn’t want to turn into one of those teenage horror stories of running away from home and ending up in a ditch somewhere. I wanted to be organized and have my shit together before I actually made a run for it.
So, Glock’s appearance in my life seemed to have thrown all of that into chaos. The date of my departure was fast approaching, and here he was, holding my hand and kissing me and listening to me complain about our neighborhood and his friends.
Glock wasn’t like the other boys I knew. He was sweet and polite to my mother, and smarter than he realized. He was funny too, and he was the only other person, other than my dad who had died when I was ten, who could make me laugh. In those three weeks, my crush on him had turned into something more.
I stayed up most nights thinking about a future with Glock, imagining leaving Long Beach together and starting a family somewhere else. But that couldn’t happen. Glock had his family and his friends here. He was getting more seriously involved with the gangs here, and as much as I hated that aspect of his life, I knew it was where he belonged. I couldn’t stay though. I had seen too much that frightened me, and I knew that I had to get out. I had a plan, and I had to execute it. So, I left.
I didn’t leave him a note because I didn’t want him to have any hope for us, I had none. Once I was gone, I was going to be gone forever, and he needed to know that.
So, I had spent the past ten years in San Francisco, searching for the guy who might make me feel the way Glock had, but he didn’t exist. Nobody else could replace how Glock had made me feel.
***
I was outside the same store where Glock had first offered to carry my groceries. I had two big bags full of stuff just like I did the last time, and I was getting ready to make my way back to my mom’s house just like that day.
It was late evening now, and the streetlights were all coming on along the road, and I stepped onto the pavement with a sigh. I could picture the scene from ten years ago like it was happening right now. I had stopped in my tracks when I saw Glock crossing the street. He was making his way straight towards me, and I felt like all my limbs had frozen. When he spoke to me, I couldn’t say anything back. I didn’t need him to carry my groceries, but for Glock, I would have agreed to anything.
I was following the same path now, which we had walked that night. I couldn’t help but wonder if it would be wise to ask my mom a little about him. What was he up to? Had he managed to get patched into the Bad Disciples MC like he always wanted to? I guess with the new nickname of Glock he had.
I gulped as I thought about Glock, with his green eyes, his hair falling over them and how warm and large his hands were. I never liked anyone touching me, in fact, I used to flinch when my mom hugged me. With Glock however, it had always felt so natural. It had always felt safe.
I was thinking about Glock too often since I came home. It had been two days, and everywhere I turned, I was reminded of him. This neighborhood was the culprit, my mom was the culprit. I shook my head to drive those thoughts out of my head. I needed to stay focused and out of Glock’s way. With any luck, I would be able to leave again in two weeks’ time and maybe find a way to get mom to sell the house and move in with me in San Francisco.
I heard the shrill cry at the same time as I checked my wristwatch. It was five minutes past eight. I looked up and down the street, and there wasn’t another human being in sight. I kept walking, thinking it was nothing.
I heard the woman’s voice again, a high-pitched cry like her life was in danger. This time I started running, it wasn’t just in my head; it was an actual person.
The faster I ran, the more incessant the crying became. It amazed me that nobody from the adjoining houses or other stores that were still open had come out to see what the cries were about.
It was coming from an alleyway, and I approached it with the grocery bags still in my hands. At the mouth of the dark, narrow alley, I saw the woman in the corner against a brick wall. A large man, whose back was turned to me, had her pinned against the wall with his hand around her throat.
She caught sight of me and screeched again, and the bags dropped from my hands. The man was turning to me now, his grip on her throat had weakened. I didn’t recognize him.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I hissed as I stepped towards them.
“Mind your own business bitch!” he growled and let the woman go, but shielded her with his massive hulking body. Tattoos were crawling up his neck and a big scar across his left eyebrow. It was difficult to see him clearly in the dark, but I knew he was glaring threateningly at me.
“I can’t mind my own business. You’re assaulting a woman!” I barked at him as I stepped even closer.
The woman could have been a prostitute. She was wearing a tight pink corset and a short skirt underneath. Her pale breasts were spilling out from the top of her corset, and her hair was heavily hair-sprayed.
“Stay the fuck away from us bitch, or you’re going to be sorry!” he growled. I stopped in my tracks, aware that I was all alone here. Even if I threw myself at this monster and tried to scratch his eyes out, he was much stronger than me, and the woman didn’t seem to be in a state to lend me a helping hand.
“You need to let her go, or I’m calling the cops,” I said, and the man threw back his head and laughed like I had told him a terrible joke. Who was I kidding? I wouldn’t have thought of calling the cops back when I lived here. All the cops turned a blind eye to everything that went on in this neighborhood. I’d forgotten.
“Yeah, call the cops,” he growled, and he took one step towards me and grabbed my wrist. I screeched and struggled against his grasp, but he had yanked me to himself. I could smell the whiskey on his breath, and it made me sick.
“Let me go!” I screeched, worried that he was going to do to me now what he was doing to the poor woman. My best guess was that she was a prostitute and he was her pimp, trying to school her for something she had done to anger him.
“Yeah, I’ll let you go, after you’ve sucked on my balls,” he said with a laughing sizzle in his voice, and he kept me tightly in his grasp, close to himself. The woman was sobbing behind him, crouched and cowering into the corner.
“Let her go…please,” she sobbed, but the guy wasn’t paying her any attention.
I screeched again when he caught a fistful of my hair and yanked my face up so he could look into my eyes.
“Perfect, flawless skin, how much money are you going to make me?” he growled and his other hand traveled down my neck, my cleavage, till he had grabbed me between my legs.
“I know Jackson! Glock! He’s going to fucking kill you if anything happens to me!” I screeched. I knew I was taking a chance. There was a probability that this guy had no idea who Glock was.
However, he let me go. His grip weakened on my hair, and I stumbled back from him, panting, trying to catch my breath. I could feel my whole body shaking as I stood and stared at him.
He growled, like a wild animal and then turned around and caught the other woman by her hair.
“Let her go! Let her go!” I screeched, and I could feel hot tears pricking the back of my eyelids. I couldn’t bare to see him hurting her again. What had she done to deserve it? She had a big blue bruise on her jaw, and I stared at it as he dragged her over the cobbled street towards the mouth of the alleyway.
He was lett
ing me free because I claimed I knew Glock, but this girl didn’t have the same fate as me.
“Let her go!” I screeched again, and this time, the hot tears streaked down my cheeks.
“Just go, just get out of here!” the girl screamed back at me. She was crying while she got dragged out of the alleyway.
The guy kicked my bags of groceries, spilling them all over the street on his way out. He didn’t stop or turn to look at me, and I cried, feeling helpless. I had saved myself by using Glock’s name, but I hadn’t been able to save that girl. What was he going to do to her?
After they had disappeared, I ran up to my groceries and started picking them up and bagging them again. The tears didn’t stop flowing down my cheeks. Why had I come back here to this place? The violence had gotten worse. When we were kids, the women and children were safe no matter how much gang violence occurred in the neighborhood. Now it seemed like nobody was safe anymore.
I straightened up with most of the stuff back in my bags, and I hurried back towards the house. I would have to tell my mom, she needed to know how unsafe it was for her in this place. Maybe then she would agree to move with me to San Francisco.
Chapter 5
Glock
“What did you say?” I barked at Mickey, who had stopped me in the middle of the road, while I was on my way to the Rusty Pelican.
“Her mom told Mrs. Jenkins and she told Crazy P’s mother, and he told me,” Mickey continued, and I shook my head in disbelief.
“You’re sure of this?” I asked, and he nodded his head.
“That’s what Crazy P told me,” he insisted, and I ran a hand through my hair.
“And you’re sure it was one of the Dragon Knights?” I clarified, and Mickey shrugged his shoulders before he nodded his head again.
“That’s what Crazy P figures. He was beating up one of the women and Sage tried to stop it,” Mickey said.
“Shit!”
“Yeah, man, it’s really fucked up. Apparently, he groped her, and he would have done much worse if she didn’t scream your name,” Mickey continued.
“Shit! Shit!” Something happening to Sage was the last thing I wanted.
“Well, knowing you probably saved her. The asshole didn’t want to piss you off,” Mickey said, and I shook my head in rage.
“When has that ever stopped them? I’m glad it worked for her though,” I said, and I was already walking away from Mickey.
“Go, man, talk to her. Mrs. Jenkins said that she's really shaken up. She wants to take her mom away from here and back to San Francisco, or wherever she lives,” Mickey called after me, as I jumped on my bike.
“Thanks, Mickey! I owe you one,” I said to him as I rode off.
I didn’t exactly plan on going to see her. I figured that she didn’t want to see me. Sage had been back home for at least four days, as far as I knew, and she hadn’t looked me up or called. She had made it pretty apparent that she didn’t want me coming and looking for her either. But if she was assaulted by a Dragon Knights, and she’d said my name—I had no other choice but to find out if she was doing okay. Besides, now I had someone to give me details about what went on with the woman he was beating up.
I rode hard to the Campbell home. I knew it well. Even after Sage was gone, I visited Tracy sometimes. I did her shopping some weekends and went over just for a chat and a cup of coffee from time to time. I knew she was lonely, and I knew she was getting sicker by the day. We spoke very little about Sage during those meetings though. I didn’t want to know, and Tracy didn’t want to tell. It was an unspoken understanding between us.
When I knocked on the door of the Campbell house, it was Tracy who opened. She looked paler and thinner than when I last saw her.
“Glock! How nice of you to visit,” she said, in her usual friendly and welcoming tone.
“Hi Tracy, how are you?” I asked as she led me into the house. I usually took my jacket off and made myself comfortable, but today was different. My body was on high alert. I could sense it in my bones that Sage was in the house.
“Here, let me make you some coffee, why don’t I? Would you like some muffins?” Tracy was already walking into the kitchen, and I followed her, my eyes darting around the place for any trace of Sage.
“Just coffee is fine, Tracy, thanks,” I said, and in the kitchen, I found bags of groceries on the counter. I clenched my jaws as I watched the older woman boil the kettle for the coffee.
“Tracy…” I said her name, and she turned to me with sad eyes.
“You’ve heard? Oh, what a terrible thing to happen. She’s so angry and I know she’s afraid too, but she won’t admit it,” Tracy said, and I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to ask her if Sage would agree to see me, but I was afraid to hear the answer. As much as I remembered of Sage, she was quite capable of declaring that she didn’t want to see me ever again.
“I understand,” was all I could muster. Tracy was swirling the instant coffee into the milk and water, and I stood beside the kitchen table. There was a laptop open, which apparently belonged to Sage, and even seeing this object, this possession of hers—made me slightly weak.
“She wants me to go with her to San Francisco. She doesn’t think it’s safe for me here,” Tracy said, as she brought the two cups of coffee to the table with shaking hands.
“She’s right,” I replied, and I took one cup from her.
“But this is my home. I haven’t left Long Beach in…oh, I don’t know…thirty years? I don’t know how I could ever live anywhere else, Glock,” Tracy sounded sad as she spoke and I nodded my head in sympathy.
We both heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs at the same time. Tracy fixed her eyes on me, while my muscles stiffened. It was Sage, I knew it was and yet suddenly, I wasn’t prepared to see her. I still remembered her as a seventeen-year-old, I couldn’t picture her as twenty-seven.
“Mom? Was someone at the door?” it was her voice in the hallway, and now the coffee cup was shaking in my hand. I realized that I was holding my breath when I heard her footsteps approaching the kitchen.
Then there was silence. She was at the kitchen door. She had seen me, well, my back, which was turned to her.
“Jackson?” her voice was slightly different, huskier, smoother. I had no choice but to turn to her.
“Sage,” I stated, and I drank in the sight of her. She was taller now, and she didn’t seem to be going through any extreme fashion phase. She was in tight black jeans that accentuated her curves and her rounded thighs. She had turned into a beautiful full-bodied woman. She was wearing a figure-tight deep red top, tucked into her jeans. Her waist was slim, and her big breasts were even more pronounced in that top. Her hair was its natural color, red and luscious and it fell in waves around her shoulders. Her eyes looked smoldering green in this light, and I felt like a giddy teenager again.
“You look well,” she broke the silence and then stepped towards me.
“You do too,” I said and realized that I hadn’t said one original thing to her yet. “You look older,” I added stupidly, and Sage laughed. Her laugh was the same, husky and strong and her red pouty lips stretched over her perfectly white teeth.
“I would think so!” she remarked and walked past me to the kitchen counter, where she started opening the cupboards on top. I followed her with my eyes, her big voluptuous ass in those tight black jeans. I clenched my jaws when a sudden rage filled me. I was reminded of what Mickey had told me; that the DK asshole had groped her.
“Honey, do you want to sit down? I’ll let you two catch up. I’ve made coffee for you too,” Tracy interrupted the silence, and Sage fetched a pack of six muffins and tore it open.
“Thanks, mom,” Sage said and turned to her mother with a warm smile.
Tracy dusted her hands.
“Okay, I’ll leave you two to it. I’m going over to Eliza Jenkin’s house for a cup of tea. See you later honey,” Tracy smiled at me as she walked out of the kitchen and now it was just Sage and me
.
She was peeling the paper wrapping off the muffin and barely even looking at me. I couldn’t help but notice how different she was now. She was still absolutely fucking gorgeous.
“Congratulations. I hear you are a lawyer now,” I tried, and she looked up at me with her fiery green eyes.
“Word does get around fast here, doesn’t it?” she said with a coy smile and then walked towards me.
I couldn’t help staring at her lips, at her breasts, at her ass—after all these years, how was she still the only woman who made me feel this stupid? This weak? How was I still in love with her after she had abandoned me?
“Well, thank you, Jackson. Or should I call you Glock now?” she tilted her head to the side slightly, and I smiled at her. She smiled back.
“I finally passed the bar exam,” she exclaimed and then came over and sat down at the kitchen table. I was standing over her, with the cup of coffee still in my hand. I laughed slightly at her using my nickname. It sounded oddly soothing coming from her lips.
“Aren’t you going to sit down? Mom instructed us to catch up,” she said with a smile, and I did as I was told.
She was looking at me in silence, peering into my eyes, assessing my face and I stared back at her. I had no idea what to say to her, and she wasn’t doing much talking either.
“You look grown up too, Glock,” she said suddenly, in a quiet voice and I nodded my head and grinned.
“Listen…I know you’ve looked out for mom all these years and I want you to know that I really appreciate that,” Sage said and I didn’t expect her to acknowledge it, let alone thank me for it. She had become calmer somehow.
“You don’t have to thank me for it, it was my pleasure. Tracy is lovely, and I didn’t want her to think that she was all alone here,” I said and Sage’ brows creased.
“I’ve meant to come back and see her, Glock, I really have. It’s been so hard trying to set up a life from scratch,” she said passionately, and I peered into her eyes and nodded.
Glock (The Bad Disciples MC Book 4) Page 3
