“Did Craven say who knocked off Reaper’s bro?”
“He said one of his Russians shot him.”
I scratched my chin. “A Russian who works for Craven saved Dante up north from Mutt. I’ll have a chat with Marino Pandza, see what I can find out. Maybe we can trade the info with Reaper to stop him from coming after our club.”
“I’m not sure that’ll stop him.”
“It might if we help him catch his brother’s killer. Not only that, once he finds out Phelia lied to his prez ’bout Jasper, proving our club’s innocence, we could possibly make a truce with him. Cos, unless you have those fuckin’ RPGs, our crew are the walking dead. I’m serious, man, we’ll always be lookin’ over our shoulders if we don’t find a solution for Reaper.”
“You do know that if we pass this message on about Phelia, we’re essentially putting a hit out on a teenage girl. Can you live with that?”
“Hell! I wish I could fuckin’ kill that bitch myself. I’d sleep like a fuckin’ baby with a smile on my face knowing Phelia’s six feet under.”
Milan barked out a laugh. “I would never in a million years expect you to come up with a viable plan, mate. Okay, I agree. I’ll pass on the info to Reaper’s family. Let’s see if this works. And if not, I’ll be ordering those damn RPGs.”
I laughed. “Ta, prez.” I went to hang up, but stopped myself just in time. “I forgot to say, call off the search for Ngaire. She’s been taken care off. Just keep it between you and me, ’kay?”
He went quiet for a few ticks, then lowered his voice. “How’d you find her?”
“I didn’t, someone else took her out. Just keep it to yourself, aye? No one can know she’s dead. For Jasper’s sake. She wuz like a mother to him, and if he finds out this person killed her, I’m not sure what he’ll do.”
“Understood. Doviđenja, mate.”
“Don’t talk that Dally shit to me. You know I don’t speak your lingo.”
He snorted out a laugh and hung up.
Grunting, I stuffed my phone into my back pocket, fully aware he’d said goodbye. Although I didn’t have an ounce of Dally in me, I’d heard my ex and her family say it enough times, even Dante used the word. Had used the word. Shit, it used to piss me off when he spoke Croatian, but now... I’d give anything to hear it from him.
“Thanks for not telling the prez what I did,” Killer said, cutting through my thoughts.
I nodded, my mood taking a nosedive, the constant worry that Dante wouldn’t wake scaring the shit out of me.
“Let’s go clean out Ngaire’s room,” I said, needing a distraction. “I wanna wipe out any trace of that disgusting bitch.”
He nodded and followed me out into the passage. I kicked Ngaire’s door open, stopping in the middle of her room, not knowing where to start. Killer walked over to the phone, which was flashing red, probably Ngaire’s mates trying to find out where the rapist had disappeared to. It put a smile on my face knowing they would never know.
Killer pressed the answerphone button. A recorded voice came over the line, one I didn’t expect to hear.
Sierra Craven.
The message was muted, but still clear enough to hear every word:
“I know you’re upset that I paid you for sex, but you shouldn’t be. You made me and Camie very happy. You were worth every cent, cutie pie, if not more. How about you shelve those morals of yours and meet up with me on Friday night; same place, same time. I’m a very rich woman, gorgeous. It would be silly to turn me down. I could make your life a whole lot better. So, call me.”
I frowned at Killer, not understanding. “Why the fuck has Ngaire got a message from Sierra on her phone? Cos there’s no fuckin’ way that cunt would think Ngaire’s cute. Your sis wuz a skank-ho, not this cutie-pie shit, plus Sierra loves cock.”
Killer clenched his hands, anger firing up his cheeks, his hazel eyes practically spitting flames. “That must be the phone call.”
“What call?”
“The one Ngaire used to bribe Dante into sex.”
I took a step back, his words hitting me like a ton of bricks.
18
Tane
Two days later Sierra’s words still rung in my ears, making me want to destroy the bitch. To tear her from limb to limb for daring to touch my boy. For using him like she’d used me.
Fuck! This was doing my head in. Just the thought of her touching Dante in the same way as she’d touched me made me want to puke my guts out. I still couldn’t believe she’d gone after a fifteen-year-old. Or even had the nerve to come after me after he’d turned her down. It just blew my fucking mind how sick she was. Though it shouldn’t, since she was related to Craven. Regardless, I had to keep my cool. I couldn’t afford to rush onto Craven’s land, screaming for her blood, because the only one who’d end up dead would be my stupid arse. No, I had to have a plan for the first time in my fucked-up life. So, when Milan phoned me again, telling me he’d made contact with Reaper, asking for a truce through some shared information, I saw the perfect opportunity for revenge.
I pulled on my leather gloves as I headed for my beat-up truck, noticing a touch of blood on them. Smiling at who it belonged to, I went to wipe it off, but stopped myself just in time, thinking it would be the perfect show-and-tell for Sierra.
I slipped my keys out of my leather jacket, Killer sidling up to the passenger door. He looked like he was going to burst into a fresh bout of tears, the whites of his eyes bloodshot. He’d gotten all emotional earlier, so much so I’d thought Pain had taken over him. But nope, it was Killer, just a really worked up version. He was terrified I was going to end up floating upside down in the Auckland harbour. He’d tried to talk me out of the plan, done everything from bawl to scream at me. But there was no way I was going to let Sierra get away with touching my boy. I could overlook what she’d done to me, the destruction of her multi-million-dollar house enough retribution, but her touching Dante... Fuck no! She needed to die for that, even if it meant I could die too. I’d let the rest of my family down, but today, I wasn’t going to let Dante down. The thought of him sent a stab of pain into my heart. He was still in a coma. Lost in his mind, lost to everyone who loved him. I just had to hang onto what the doctors had told me.
He wasn’t brain dead.
He could still wake up.
I went to slot the key into the driver’s side, swearing as my hand started to shake like a motherfucker. I wasn’t scared. I was just so bloody amped up I could barely control myself, adrenalin coursing through my veins. I grabbed my hand with my other one and slotted the key in, opening up. Killer climbed into the front passenger seat, not saying a word as I slipped behind the wheel and started up the engine.
I backed out of Milan’s property. In the distance, I could see labourers working on the club, the insurance company finally paying out. Our club’s lawyer had grabbed the insurance company by the balls, forcing them to accept Milan’s claim. Which was great, no, it was bloody great, because it was the first time I’d seen Milan smile since the massacre, the poor bloke almost having gone bankrupt.
Movement out of the corner of my eye pulled my attention away from the labourers. I looked up at the second floor of Milan’s Dally-styled house, a combo of reddish-brown tiles, white balustrades, tan bricks, and cream hollow stone blocks. Jasper was peering down at us, making me jam my foot on the brake.
I jumped out of the truck and pointed at the house, yelling, “Get inside!”
He turned around and disappeared back through the sliding door.
I pulled out my phone and called through to Milan’s wife. “Marija,” I said, not letting her get a word in. “Lock the balcony door. Don’t let Jasper go out there again.”
“Why?” she asked in her thick Croatian accent.
“I told you he’s suicidal.”
“But I hid all the knives, the pills too.”
“He could still fuckin’ jump.”
She said something in Croatian, fuck knows what, then star
ted babbling in broken English. “I didn’t think of that. I won’t let him out of my sight, I promise.” She hung up.
I continued to look at the balcony for several more seconds. Through the large window on my right, I could see Marija rush out of the kitchen, running straight for Jasper. She put her arm around him and directed him towards the kitchen, probably trying to distract him with food, the bird a great cook.
Now satisfied that Jasper was safe with Marija, I jumped back into the truck.
“What wuz that ’bout?” Killer asked.
“Didn’t ya see Jasper on the balcony?”
“Yeah, so?”
“He could’ve jumped.”
“It’s not that high.”
“It is if he fuckin’ dives head first.”
Killer exhaled. “True, but he seems to have calmed down.”
“Are you bloody high? He tried to commit suicide. Twice!”
“Don’t remind me,” Killer growled, the poor bastard having found his nephew both times. The first time after Jasper had OD’d, the second after the kid had slit his wrists.
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket, then stuffed it straight back in.
“Why didn’t ya answer it?” Killer asked.
“It’s Sierra,” I said, starting up the engine. Just the thought of speaking to her over the phone again made me want to throw up. I’d called her to set up a meeting, lying through my teeth to get her where I wanted, though it had taken every ounce of my almost non-existent self-control not to scream at her. The only thing that had stopped me from losing my shit was imagining her white hair covered in blood.
My phone started ringing again.
“I can answer it for you,” Killer said, reaching for my pocket.
“Touch it and I’ll break your fingers.”
He whipped his hand back. “For fuck’s sake, Tane, I wuzn’t gonna feel you up, just wuz after your phone.”
“I don’t care what you’re after, you’re not gonna get it, so shut the fuck up.”
“You’re a rude bastard.”
“State the fuckin’ obvious, why don’t cha,” I said, not in the mood to baby him.
He grunted. I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye.
I turned the truck around and pulled out onto the road. “Stop lookin’ at me.”
“I’m gonna stare at you all the way to Craven’s,” he replied, “cos I might never get to see you again.”
“That might be a good thing, Killer. No matter how much you want me, I ain’t good for you.”
I hadn’t touched him since that day in Hemi’s room, making damn sure he didn’t get close enough for anything like that to happen. Though he was making it bloody hard, constantly trying to touch me. But I had to force him to understand I couldn’t have a relationship with him, because it would only end in tears. His. I wasn’t made for relationships, no matter how much I liked him.
Fuck! There it was. I’d admitted it. I liked him. And not in a pump fists, bro way. I wanted to pump my cock into him every time I clapped eyes on the hot bastard. Even worse, it wasn’t just about the sex, because for some godforsaken reason, I also liked hugging him. I was obviously getting soft in my old age.
Killer crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t agree. You fit me perfectly. You’re everything I could want. Even Pain has a crush on you now. She thinks you’re sweet.”
I barked out a laugh.
“I know you’re not sweet. You’re a dirty, lowdown bastard.”
“You’re damn right, I am.”
“But you’re still hot as fuck. Loyal as fuck, too. And there’s no man I want more than you. I love you, Tane. Have for a long time.”
I went silent, not liking those three words. They made me feel damn uncomfortable. I didn’t deserve his love. Didn’t deserve to get a second chance at love either. What I deserved was to be alone after I’d royally screwed up my ex’s life. And there was no fucking way I wanted to do the same to Killer. That was if I even lived past today.
“Aren’t cha gonna say anything?” he asked.
“How’s Rafael?” I replied, wanting to divert the topic, pissing him off the quickest way.
“Don’t mention that arsehole!” he barked, taking the bait. “He almost got me killed with his lies.”
“He paid for it,” I said, glancing at him.
A cruel smile pulled at Killer’s lips. “Yeah, a week in hospital. Even Pain’s refusing to go near him. He’s been keeping away from the club, his twin too. Matheus is pissed off to the max. He’s even threatening to go to a different club.”
“Dickhead. His brother deserved what he got.”
“Yeah, and at least Rafael’s leaving me alone now. It’s a weight off my shoulders. By the way, me and Pain have been having really good convos through her diary.” He snickered. “She wrote in it, telling me you promised to see her get all dressed up. I think you put the wedge between her and Rafael more than his lies.”
I grinned, definitely happy about that.
“You like that?” he asked.
“Fuck, yeah. Glad I fucked their relationship up.”
“Cos you like me and only want me for yourself?”
I glanced at him, the dude not joking. “No.”
His face turned angry. “Why can’t you admit you like me?!”
“Calm down, Killer, you can’t force me into a relationship. It ain’t gonna happen.”
“Why not? You like my arse, nutted real hard. You also kiss me like you can’t get enough of me. Admit it, you want me bad.”
“Christ! I might be dead by the end of the day, so get offa my fuckin’ back.”
“Don’t say that!”
“Well, it’s true,” I said, slowing down for a pedestrian crossing the road.
“Then, don’t go.”
“I need to for my boy, for Jasper too. They won’t be safe if I don’t go through with this. It’s not just ’bout gettin’ vengeance for what Sierra did, it’s much, much more.”
“How ’bout I do it, then? I can go in your place.”
I barked out another laugh. “Yeah, right.”
He glared at me. “I can do rough shit, I ain’t no pussy. I killed my own sister.”
“No, the new side of you did.”
He went silent, the mention of his third personality still scaring him.
I stopped at a red light and glanced at him, wondering whether trauma was causing the splits in his personality. “When did Pain first appear?”
“In my teens. Why?”
I pulled away from the lights. “Did sumpthin’ bad happen to make her come out?”
He shook his head. “No, why?”
“Just that this other personality came out when you tried to kill your sister. I’m wondering whether trauma has caused your split personality.”
“My doctor thinks that too, but nuthin’ happened to me for Pain to come out.”
I turned onto the motorway. “You should ask her if anything bad has happened to her. Maybe she came cos of it. Maybe she’s taken on those memories, like this new personality took on the memories of killing Ngaire.”
He went silent again.
“So, are ya gonna write to her, asking?”
He shook his head. “If Pain did come from trauma, maybe I shouldn’t find out what it is. Maybe she’s here to protect me from knowing.”
“True.”
For the rest of the drive we didn’t talk, Killer obviously lost in thought over what I’d said. At least it allowed me a much-needed reprieve. As I pulled up to Craven’s place, the reprieve disappeared, Killer’s eyes on me once more. The tension between us rose almost instantly, his stare now penetrating.
“What, Killer?” I grunted, frustrated with him. I didn’t need this agro. I had enough to deal with without him adding to it.
“Do ya care ’bout me?” Killer asked.
“Where did that come from?”
“Just answer the damn question.”
&nbs
p; I leaned towards him, putting my face in front of his. His eyes went big, his mouth opening slightly, hope crossing his face. Hope that I was going to kiss him, to give him my undying love, the guy as much caught up in happily-ever-afters as Pain was. But I didn’t buy into happily-ever-afters, what had happened with my marriage proof of that.
I lowered my head a touch and looked him in the eye. “I do care for you, more than I want to. And despite the way I treat you, I’m grateful for you bein’ in my life. Not only for saving me from Sierra, but for standing by me even though I’m a straight up cunt. And, Killer, you’re fuckin’ hot. The hottest damn person I’ve ever had the pleasure to fuck.”
Feeling my resolve crack, I placed a hand behind his head and pulled him towards me, allowing myself one last kiss. I brushed my lips over his, using it as a thank you as well as a goodbye if my plan went tits up. He groaned against my lips, his tongue flicking out.
I forced myself to break the kiss and placed my forehead against his. “You’re special, Killer. Pain is too. I don’t just care for you, I also care for her. Write in her diary, tell her I said that.”
He nudged my nose with his. “You should tell her. You can be both our boyfriend.”
I chuckled and let go of him, the guy definitely persistent. “Just do it, ’kay?”
He nodded, a huge smile breaking out across his face. It was fucking endearing to say the least, making me want to kiss him again. I pulled him close for another kiss, allowing myself to enjoy the calm before the storm. He grabbed my head and kissed the hell out of me, wiping out all thought, his lips breathing life back into my shrivelled up, old heart.
The sound of a car driving past finally broke through my fuzzed-out brain. I broke the kiss and cleared my throat, reminding myself why I was here. “Drive around the back of the property, you know the road.”
He nodded, his lips reddened and a touch swollen from our kiss. “I’ll be there, I won’t let you down.”
“Good,” I said, opening my door. “If I don’t come out after an hour, leave. I’ll be dead.”
Jagged Pill (Broken Lives Book 3) Page 23
