“You sound almost disappointed,” I whisper, trying to keep the fuck all, screw it rhetoric. I don't want to know how many of those bodies are never going to get up again. Naomi doesn't respond and we wait while leaves skitter around us. Groans are coming from various places across the lot and voices from beyond the chain-link fence. I don't turn and look at them. I can barely fucking move.
And then I remember. Shit.
Dax.
I twist around and try to look, trying not to let Naomi figure out what I'm doing. I spot his emo ass right away, lying motionless where I last saw him standing. God-fucking-damn it. I turn back around and squeeze Naomi's head against my chest. She doesn't need this right now. I just keep my attention on moving my hand through her hair, nice and gentle and slow.
I notice Eric's blonde head sticking out from under a cluster of cardboard boxes, buried there like a bum in an alleyway. He, unfortunately, isn't as motionless as Dax. I can see his fingers twitching as he groans and crawls forward, straining himself up on his elbows. Behind me, shouts ring out and boots pound the pavement. My neck is fucking killing me, but I stay in that position and watch as some of the police officers and roadies check the bodies.
Naomi starts to fall asleep, but I give her a gentle shake and press another kiss to her head. I think she has a concussion. Ain't no way I'm letting her out of this now. Not after that confession. It was as epic as the fucking storm and ten times as unexpected.
“I love you, too, Naomi Knox,” I tell her. “And it'll be alright. It'll be o-fucking-kay.” I glance back. Hayden is leaning over Dax with tears on her skinny, gaunt face. She checks his pulse and I wait with bated breath. One, two, three. She rubs at her nose and sits down, pulling his head into her lap. It only takes a moment for some of her bandmates to catch up to her. From their reactions, I can tell that Dax is alright. They're worried but not devastated. Good sign. I breathe out a sigh of relief. He might be a fucking rival, but I don't want him dead. I don't want anything around that could hurt Naomi.
“He's okay?” she asks, and I pause.
“Yeah,” I say, as I look back and lift my hand to grab Ronnie's attention. He starts towards us in a jog. “Dax is alright.” I smile. “Sneaky bitch. I was tying to protect you from that shit.” Naomi's orange-brown eyes flicker open and she focuses her watery gaze on the crawling form of her foster brother.
“Turner, don't ever try to protect me from feeling something real. Don't try to protect me at all.” She pauses and a tiny smile tweaks her bloody lip. “Unless it's as stupid and egotistical as thinking you can take out a man with a gun without being shot. Kind of like that.”
I smile and then pause. My lips turn into a frown.
“The fuck?” Naomi twists just enough to see, wincing as she spots her foster sister, Katie, standing with her dirty dress and plastic purse. She's at the edge of the parking lot, next to a toppled bus. She doesn't look bothered by the devastation. She doesn't even see it. Her purse falls to the ground with a crash that sounds too loud for plastic on cement, like something else is falling, too, like her sanity is smashing down right along with it. And then she starts to run, bare feet whispering across the lot as she skitters, moving in a way I've never seen another human move – with grace and fucking violence intertwined around the bareness of her soul.
“Katie?” Naomi asks, but her sister doesn't look at us. She has black angel wings on her back, guiding her forward, bringing tiny tears from the sky in the form of rain. It splats on our cheeks as we watch. She skids to a stop next to Eric and bends down to pick up a wooden board from his back. At first, I think she's fucking helping the asshole, that this whole plot is even more sick and twisted than it was before, that she has hardcore Stockholm syndrome.
Eric doesn't see her, doesn't even look up.
Katie whispers something that nobody else can hear, that's meant solely for the ears of God. Or the Devil. Yeah, probably for him.
And then she drops the board.
Naomi and I cringe as it hits Eric in the head and drops his chest back to the pavement. He whimpers and tries to stand, but she isn't finished. She hits him again. He collapses a second time with a strangled cry. There's so much going on that nobody but us sees at first. And Katie keeps going. She has a purpose in mind and nobody is going to take her from it. The board comes down. Eric grunts. Again. The crack of skull.
“You! What the fuck are you doing?” The gruff voice from behind us doesn't stop Katie. She starts to slam that board down with a renewed vigor, splattering her face with blood, soaking her dress with the spray. “Drop your fucking weapon and put your hands in the air!” Katie swings again and a warning shot is fired into the gray stillness above our heads. She drops the wood by her side and looks down at the bloody pothole of Eric's skull. When she raises her hands above her head and drops to her knees, tears of joy are rolling down her face.
I hold Naomi close to me and try not to think the one thought that we're both feeling. There goes the problem. That solves it. This is it, right? The rest of the little details, the unanswered questions, can be worked out later. The threat is over, erased with violence and tiny, porcelain hands so used to abuse they can stand innocent no longer.
The cops cuff Katie Rhineback and keep guns trained on her tiny form. A man in an Ice and Glass shirt checks his pulse. He shakes his head and purses his lips.
In the midst of the chaos and destruction, somebody spins America's silver wedding band around their finger.
To be continued...
Dear Reader,
Thanks for staying on this crazy journey with me. I know it might be tough sometimes, but it'll all be worth it in the end. Look at Naomi and Turner. Match made in Heaven. Or maybe Hell. But it's beautiful either way. But we're not done with Amatory Riot and Indecency yet. There's more to come and you never know who's turn it'll be to tell the story next.
The plot thickens.
And this series will have a definite ending at some point, all questions will be answered, and happily-ever-sometimes will be passed out. Stay with me and we'll get there. Book three coming soon.
Kisses.
C.M.
If you enjoyed this, you might like The Triple M Series: Book 1
Books by C.M. Stunich
The Seven Wicked Series
First
Second
Third
Fourth
Fifth
Sixth
Seventh
Houses Novels
The House of Gray and Graves
The House of Hands and Hearts and Hair
The House of Sticks and Bones
The Huntswomen Trilogy
The Feed
The Hunt
The Throne
Indigo Lewis Novels
Indigo & Iris
Indigo & The Colonel
Indigo & Lynx
Never say Never Trilogy & Never too Late Series
Tasting Never
Finding Never
Keeping Never
Never Can Tell
Triple M Series
Losing Me, Finding You
Loving Me, Trusting You
A Duet
Paint Me Beautiful
Color Me Pretty
Hard Rock Roots
Real Ugly
Get Bent
Stand Alone Novels
She Lies Twisted
Hell Inc.
A Werewolf Christmas (A Short Story)
Fuck Valentine's Day (A Short Story)
Clan of the Griffin Riders: Chryer's Crest
DeadBorn
Broken Pasts
Crushing Summer
About the Author
C.M. Stunich was raised under a cover of fog in the area known simply as Eureka, CA. A mysterious place, this strange, arboreal land nursed Caitlin's (yes, that's her name!) desire to write strange fiction novels about wicked monsters, magical trains, and Nemean Lions (Google it!). She currently enjoys drag queens, having too many cat
s, and tribal bellydance.
She can be reached at [email protected], and loves to hear from her readers. Ms. Stunich also wrote this biography and has no idea why she decided to refer to herself in the third person.
Happy reading and carpe diem!
www.cmstunich.com
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
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About the Author
Get Bent (Hard Rock Roots) Page 21
