Melancholy

by Bella Jewel

  “That shit has been dealt with,” Maddox snarls. “You got Howard in prison. Anything that was goin’ down with the clubs, was on him. Now, are you finished?”

  “I’m not,” Rambo says, turning back to me. “What happened, Santana?”

  “It was like he said,” I say, meeting Rambo’s gaze dead-on. “I was just driving, and I got out of my car. I heard shots and yelling, and I got back into my car quickly. A shot hit my calf.”

  “You see who did it?”

  “No,” I say.

  “And you’re sure it wasn’t aimed at you?”

  I keep my face expressionless. “Yes, I’m sure. I heard yelling over the road, lots of it. Cars were going past, it was hectic. The shot wasn’t aimed at me.”

  “It seems strange a shot would come so close, if it wasn’t aimed at you.”

  “There were shots being fired at a car, it missed, and came towards me. I don’t see how that’s so complicated.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Very well.”

  He asks me a few more questions, and then he leaves. The doctor watches him go, before turning to me. He’s been checking my wound. I watched as he unraveled it. It’s not as bad as I thought. It hurt like hell when it went in, like a hot poker through my flesh – but maybe that’s the beauty of it. A neat wound.

  “Your wound is looking good, Santana,” the doctor says. “We were able to get the bullet out. There seems to be no nerve damage.”

  I nod. “Thank you.”

  “She ready to come home?” Maddox demands.

  I turn to him. He’s standing by the door, arms crossed. The doctor swallows. “I’d like to keep her another night. She’s only just come out from being put under, and I want to make sure there are no side affects.”

  “Then I’m puttin’ two guys on her door.”

  The doctor shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. The patients need their rest.”

  “I said,” Maddox snarls, “I’m puttin’ a few boys on her door. She needs to feel safe, and she will.”

  “You said it was a drive-by,” the doctor protests. “Why would she need protection if it was a drive-by?”

  Maddox charges towards him, causing the doctor to take a few steps back. “Because I don’t trust any fucker, and that girl on the bed, she’s my fuckin’ girl. Now, I’ll be puttin’ two of my guys on, and you’ll fuckin’ like it.”

  The doctor nods. “Very well, but they need to stay quiet . . .”

  Maddox smirks. “Unless the nurses feel like gettin’ a good fuckin’, they’ll stay quiet.”

  I slap my hand to my forehead. The doctor makes a disgusted sound and Maddox laughs. I peek through my fingers and watch the doctor leave.

  “That was cruel,” I say, dropping my hand.

  “He deserved it. Who do you want on your door, darlin’?”

  I shrug. “I don’t care.”

  He narrows his eyes and walks over, lowering himself down. His fingers go up and around the back of my neck, and he pulls me forward so his mouth is only an inch or less from mine. “I said, who do you want on the door?”

  “I said, I don’t care,” I snap.

  “Santana.”

  “Maddox.”

  He makes a low hissing sound, and presses his forehead to mine. This has always been his way of showing me affection. It’s strange, but it’s his. He smells so good, and I want to wrap myself in him. The ache in my chest is getting bigger, and I feel so frightened.

  “I’m sendin’ Mack in, and maybe Tyke.”

  “Mack is back?” I whisper, pulling away.

  Maddox grunts. “Yeah.”

  I smile; I can’t help it. I adore Miakoda ‘Mack’ Williams. He’s Maddox’s adopted brother, and somewhat of a nomad. He travels around, joining in different chapters instead of sticking with one. He enjoys traveling, and being alone.

  “Then yes, send him in.”

  “You got a thing for my brother?”

  I snort. “Would it matter if I did? You have a thing for my friends.”

  “Santana,” he warns.

  “Maddox.”

  With a grunt, he stands. “I’m goin’ to get some things for you. I’ll send the guys in now.”

  I nod.

  He walks to the door.

  When he gets there, he turns back to me. “Santana?”

  I stare up at him. “Yeah?”

  “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  2008 – Santana

  I’m cold, so cold my entire body has stopped hurting, and now I can’t feel anything. I can’t feel my sister’s hand in mine, I can’t feel my toes or my legs, or even the hard concrete beneath us. I could die like this, and I know I wouldn’t feel it.

  We’re going to die if we don’t get warm soon.

  I sit up, crying out in pain as what feels like a thousand tiny needles stabbing into my skin radiates through my body. I need to find shelter, I need to find warmth, and I need to get us out of this weather. I rub my hands over the holes that have appeared in my old blue jeans.

  I turn and stare down at Pippa who has grown frail and weak. Her eyes are sunken, her hair is dull, and her body is so tiny she’s got nothing to fall back on. This is all my fault, I took her onto the streets, thinking we had a chance at freedom. Instead, we found ourselves trapped once more, only this time it was from hunger, desperation, cold, and dangerous people.

  “Come on, Pippi,” I whisper, reaching down to take her hands. “I’m going to find us somewhere warm.”

  She stares up at me, her lips cracked and a dark shade of blue. She’s freezing. We need to get warm or she’ll die. Or worse, I’ll die, and she’ll be left with no one. I can’t allow that. I pull her up and she comes, slowly. Her knees wobble as she holds onto me. I wrap an arm around her, trying not to become fearful at how cold her skin is.

  “We’re going to get some help, you hear me?”

  We’ve been out here for around six months now, and more often than not we’ve been able to get through. It’s only been in the last month that we’ve started to struggle. People are heartless when it comes to the homeless. They don’t want to help; they just want to keep walking and pretend they never met our desperate eyes.

  After all, the people with homes have a warm bed to sleep in each night. What do they need to worry about, aside from what to eat for breakfast?

  Breakfast.

  My stomach rumbles as I pull Pippa down the pathway. My parents raised me never to trust strangers, but now I’m going to do the only thing I can think of. I’m going to beg. I’m going to knock on as many doors as I have to, and beg until someone gives in. Until someone gives us something warm, or some food.

  I lead Pippa into the housing area closest to where we were sleeping. She’s slowing, her body struggling to even take a step. I pull her up the first driveway, and lean her against a pole while I knock. An elderly man answers, his eyes narrowing in disgust as he takes us in.

  “Not interested,” he barks, slamming the door.

  That’s it?

  I knock again, but he doesn’t answer.

  “It’s okay.” I smile weakly to Pippa. “There are so many more houses.”

  I lead her through a solid fifty houses before we reach one that gives us a chance. The man in this house is younger, only about thirty-five or so. He’s got a light scattering of grey in his dark hair and eyes the color of champagne. He’s quite attractive, and seems friendly enough as he looks us over.

  “Can I help you?” he asks.

  “My sister and I . . . we’re homeless. We have nowhere to go, and she’s freezing. Please, sir, if you could spare a blanket or some food, I would be forever grateful,” I whisper.

  He stares at us, his eyes scanning over me and then Pippa. A smile appears on his face as he shoves the door open. “Come in, let’s get you warmed up.”

  My eyes widen. All I can think of is the old saying that states if it’s too good to be true, it probably is. What if this man
is going to murder us? Or rape us? It’s clear he can see my hesitation, because he gives me a warm smile and steps forward. “I’ve lived a hard life before—I understand. I’m not going to hurt you. Come in, please.”

  I turn to Pippa, and one look at her frail body has me reaching for her.

  “What’s your names?” he asks as we step inside his warm house.

  “I’m Santana,” I whisper. “And this is Pippa.”

  “Welcome girls. I’m Kennedy.”

  ~*~*~*~

  2014 – Maddox

  “Who do you think shot her, Prez?” Krypt asks, leaning against the desk, crossing his boots.

  “I am guessin’ someone from the Tinman’s Soldiers. It has to be. Nothin’ else makes sense. They know we sent her in to save Claire, and now they want revenge. Not to mention all the shit that went down with you and Ash. Wouldn’t take much to figure out what she meant to me. Howard might be in prison, but his VP has stood up and taken his spot. We’re still at war.”

  Krypt nods. “Yeah, we fuckin’ are. She got anyone else who might wanna hurt her?”

  I shrug. “I don’t fuckin’ know. There are some people from her past...but I don’t know any of them or what they’re about.”

  “You told her about her sister yet?”

  My eyes shoot to his, and I glare so fuckin’ hard he flinches.

  “Calm down,” he snaps, throwing his hands up. “I’m only askin’.”

  “I’m not tellin’ her a damned word about her sister, until I know more.”

  “You got any more?”

  “Nothin’.”

  “Nothin’ at all?”

  “I got a name.”

  Krypt nods, encouraging me on.

  “Kennedy Bayne.”

  Krypt flinches. “Say again?”

  “Kennedy Bayne.”

  “Motherfucker,” Krypt barks.

  “What?”

  “Kennedy Bayne is in prison, Maddox. I know, I heard his name when I was in there.”

  My eyes wide and I step forward. “That so?”

  “That’s so. The fucker is in there for drug possession. He’s a huge dealer, but he got fucked over.”

  I reach up, running a hand through my hair. Santana was high as a fuckin’ kite when I found her, and she’d been that way for a while. She used to murmur the name Kennedy in her sleep, but she never told me what the man meant to her. I’m assuming it’s the same man. After all, his name is linked to her sister.

  “How does he fall into this shit with her sister?” Krypt asks.

  I swing my eyes to him. “He’s a name that keeps poppin’ up.”

  “Santana know him?”

  “Far as I know, yeah. She won’t tell me what he means to her.”

  Krypt thinks about that, then mutters, “You thought of takin’ her to him and findin’ out?”

  “No fuckin’ way,” I bark. “I don’t know what that man means to her, or even if he’s the same one, and until I do I’m not tellin’ her where he is. She is in enough danger. Until I know he’s no threat, she ain’t goin’ to know about any of this.”

  “She’s goin’ to hate you, Prez. She’s goin’ to fuckin’ lose her shit when she finds out what you’ve been hidin’.”

  I lift a smoke, lighting it and pressing it to my lips. “I know that.”

  “Well, you got my silence. What’re you gonna do about Kennedy?”

  I smirk at Krypt as I take a long drag. “I’m goin’ to pay him a visit.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  2014 – Santana

  I fall asleep as soon as Maddox leaves, and remain that way until a hand touches my shoulder. I flutter my eyes open and look up to see Mack, standing over me. A small croak leaves my throat as a big smile appears on my lips. He leans down, brushing his scratchy lips over my forehead. “How you doin’, chante?”

  I smile at his nickname for me, which means ‘heart’ and reach out, touching his cheek. “Chief,” I whisper. “You haven’t called me.”

  He grins. He hates being called Chief, and I’m the only one he allows to get away with it without a fight. Mack is Native American, and one of the most breathtaking men I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, aside from Maddox.

  He’s got these deep, dark brown eyes set in the most defined, chiseled face I’ve ever seen on a man. He has a square jaw, full lips, and dark olive skin that’s so silky, it’s hard not to reach out and touch it. His long, thick, dark brown hair flows halfway down his back.

  He’s tall, lean but beautifully muscled, and doesn’t have one tattoo on his perfect skin. He’s a bad boy, though. More temperamental and aggressive than half the bikers in the club. Mack had a hard life, and was adopted out to Maddox’s family when he was only five. No one really knows his history.

  Mack runs a hand over his jaw. “I’ve been busy.”

  I pout at him, and he grins again, leaning down to kiss my lips. Mack and I have always had a good relationship. He was the solid rock when I was coming out of my drug haze. Maddox stayed by my side, night and day, but it was Mack who kicked my ass when I didn’t want to go on. He never showed me any sympathy; he just pulled me out and made me start again.

  “Well,” I say when he pulls away. “I should announce to the world that I’ve been kissed by the maddest biker around.”

  He snorts. “That wasn’t a kiss, chante, it was a fuckin’ peck.”

  “Am I not good enough to get a real kiss from you, Chief?”

  He laughs throatily. “Course you are, but my brother would cut my cock off and feed it to me in pieces.”

  I laugh. “He would not.”

  “Oh, he would.”

  I reach out and take his hand. His rough fingers are covered with a whole lot of scars. “How have you been?”

  He sits down beside me, letting me hang on to his hand. This is a surprise, because Mack doesn’t like to be touched a whole lot.

  “Good. Decided to come back and hang around for a while. Sick of ridin’, and it seems like my little bro needs me here.”

  “He’s a big boy.” I smirk. “He can take care of himself.”

  Mack laughs. “No doubt. I need a break, all the same.”

  “Are you staying with us?”

  He nods. “For a while. Got my own place lined up.”

  He lets go of my hand and takes me by the back of my head, bringing me close. He kisses my head, lingering for a long moment before standing. “But enough of that. There’s someone outside hangin’ to see you. Goin’ to be out there; you yell out if you need me.”

  “Okay,” I say, watching him retreat.

  A moment later, Ash enters. She stands at the door for a long time, her hands fumbling with each other, her eyes puffy and red. I watch her, knowing that it isn’t entirely her fault what happened between her, Krypt and Maddox. She takes a hesitant step forward.

  “You can come in,” I say softly.

  She walks over and sits on the seat beside my bed. We stare at each other for a long, long time.

  “I’m so sorry, Santana” she says, breaking the silence. “I didn’t . . . I thought . . .”

  I shake my head. “I made it clear I wasn’t interested in Maddox. I over-reacted, it hurt me, shocked me, and I’ve still got to come to terms with how I feel, but it wasn’t your fault. I told you I was seeing someone else. I told you Maddox meant nothing to me.”

  She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. I knew he cared about you, and I did it anyway.”

  I smile sadly. “If he cared about me, Ash, he wouldn’t have done it in the first place. This . . . it isn’t on you—it’s on him. He’s the one holding back, and he’s the one dancing around whatever the hell is going on between us.”

  “He’s dancing because he’s scared,” she says softly. “He’s scared to hurt you.”

  I shrug. “Maybe, but he’s making his own choices. So am I. Us being apart, it’s for the best.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  I nod. “Yes.�
��

  She sighs and leans in, wrapping her fingers around mine. “You scared me, Santana. I thought . . .”

  “I’m okay,” I assure her. “It’ll all be fine.”

  ~*~*~*~

  Later that night, my phone buzzes beside me just as my eyes flutter closed. With a groan, I roll, and flip it open. I see a message from Alec. He is so sweet, so kind and real. He’s what most girls dream about, because of course, we don’t dream of falling in love with a bad boy. No, we dream of white picket fences, big houses and three children.

  I wish I were most girls.

  I dream of two things. A tall, dark man who I know is bad for me, and a man who can give me a white picket fence. There is a true battle between good and evil, and evil is so tempting. Maddox is my evil—he’s my dark place, yet I can’t seem to push myself away from him. He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.

  Then there’s Alec.

  Sweet, charming, and so damned perfect. He’s almost too perfect. I’ve tried to find flaws, but it would appear he has none. He’s just a genuine good guy. His message has a big smile breaking out across my face, so much so that it begins to hurt. He always knows how to make me feel better, and that’s something to hold onto.

  A – Roses are red, violets are blue, but nothing is as beautiful or as sweet as you.

  I want to roll my eyes, but I can’t wipe the smile off my face long enough to do that. Instead, I respond.

  S – Are you always this charming to the girls you date?

  A – Only the pretty ones.

  S – What else do the pretty girls get?

  A – You’ll just have to find out. How are you, sweetheart?

  S – My leg is sore, but I’m fine. Just a few stitches.

  A – Are you still getting out tomorrow? I am busting to see you.

  S – Yep, tomorrow morning.

  A – You up for lunch then?

  I frown.

  S – I don’t think that’s a good idea. Maddox won’t like if I go out as soon as I get home.