Where Souls Spoil

by Jc Emery

  When he arrives at the house, my eyes are red, but dry. He wants to know why I don’t want his help anymore, and he’s inviting himself into the living room.

  “I’ve done a lot of work on this,” he says with a sigh. I try to keep my distance, but wherever I move in the living room, he follows and stays within reach. If everything with Duke wasn’t fucking me up so bad right now, I might see it coming. But I don’t.

  “Why the change of heart?” he asks.

  “The club’s handling it,” I say. “I have to trust them.”

  “You didn’t want the club’s help before. What’s changed?”

  So much has changed. Duke being here and us working on being less fucked up together, and now making our own family? It’s more like what hasn’t changed. But Darren doesn’t deserve all of that. He barely deserves what I’m giving him now.

  “I’m with Duke now,” I say. It’s the simplest answer, and even though I don’t want to invite him into this part of my life, I need this to be as quick as possible. Jeremy’s just in the other room, but it feels like he’s a million miles away.

  Darren’s entire mood changes. He goes from thoughtful and annoyed to red-faced angry in a matter of moments. Then, just like always before, a sinister smile appears on his face, and I already know what’s coming.

  He reaches out and grabs my arm tight and shoves me against the wall behind me. Bending down and in my face he hisses, “I had hope for you once. But it’s too late now. You’re nothing but a filthy whore.”

  “Stop it,” I say as loudly as I can, hopeful that Jeremy can hear me. I open my mouth to yell for Jeremy when Darren raises his arm in the air, but the blow comes too soon. Right across my mouth, and a throbbing sensation erupts in my jaw and cheek. Darren grabs a hold of my hair and pulls my head back so I have to look up at him. “You’ll just fuck anybody, won’t you? You gonna fuck me?”

  His free hand works at the fly of his jeans, causing me to freak out. I start to scream and fight him off, but the hand he places over my mouth silences me and pulls my body down the wall. “Actually, I think I’m gonna let you suck my dick. Just remember what happens if you bite.”

  Shoved down to my knees, I push myself against the wall and keep my head turned to the side with my eyes clenched shut. Darren frees himself from his pants and grips his dick in his hand. Through the paralyzing fear of what he’s trying to do, I find the courage to fight back. Years ago, I didn’t fight back like I should have when he forced himself on me, because he convinced me that I deserved it. But now? Now I have something more important to fight for.

  My baby.

  Chapter 23

  Duke

  Shame isn’t an emotion I’m used to feeling a lot of these days. But right now as I climb off my bike at the safe house in Little River, I’m feeling a fuck ton of it. Everything about the shit that just went down is wrong. From the way I screamed at Nic to the way I accused her of sleeping around. It wasn’t right, and I really fucked up. The best I could do when I was in that place was to leave. It wasn’t her fault. She’d been trying to talk to me all day, and I didn’t want to hear it.

  She deserves better than I was giving her.

  Our baby deserves better.

  For weeks now I’ve had it in my head that she was hiding something, and fuck if I wasn’t right. I never did like that arrogant prick she dated back in high school. Sure, part of it was jealousy, but the rest of it was just him. He’s always had his nose in the air, and he’s always treated Nic like she was beneath him. And my girl isn’t beneath anybody.

  But I can’t think of that shit right now. She’s just got to take care of his ass, dismiss him, and shut it down. Whatever she had him doing to look into Butch’s sentence needs to fucking stop. A club member gets locked up, it’s club business. Family or not, it’s not up to her to get him out, and she knows that.

  I signal to the guys we got watching the doors that I’m going in. They move back out of respect and keep their semi-automatics tight in their grip. We had to pull men from a few of our support clubs in the Bay Area for full coverage just in case Mancuso struck again. The guys we got here are a little short on brain power, but they know the drill, and most of them know their livelihood depends on what we’re willing to sell them and when. They need us, and that need makes them eager to avoid fucking up, so this is working out well.

  The safehouse used to be a tiny cottage a few miles off Highway 1, down a narrow dirt road that is almost invisible to the naked eye if you don’t know the markers to look for. Now, all the windows are boarded up, and there’s only one way in and one way out. We soundproofed it as best we could years back, and it does a decent job. Inside, there are three men. Two are from the support club, and the third is Michael Mancuso—Princess’s twin brother and Ruby’s long-lost son.

  He’s sitting up on the mattress we’ve provided him that’s on the floor. He’s hunched over and doesn’t even bother to lift his head when I come into the room. I nod to the guys who are babysitting him this shift and tell them to wait outside. For a moment, they pause. The last time Michael and I were in a room together, it was with a prospect, and the kid lost his shit and started wailing on the prospect so I ended up wailing on him. It got bloody and mean, but Ruby’s made Jim bring the kid home-cooked meals and fresh clothes every day. It’s not his fault he’s this fucked up, she reasons.

  “You check out that lead I gave you?” Michael asks. When he lifts his head, I can see the black eye and swollen lip from our last encounter. I hope it fucking hurts and Ruby’s not been made aware of his injuries and provided him with any ibuprofen. He deserves to feel every moment of pain for how he beat his sister.

  Even though I’m starting to understand him and why he did it, the reasoning is still fucked.

  “Took it to the club,” I say and walk to the chair in the corner of the room and sit down. Earlier, when we were in Church to take a vote about Chief’s funeral, I brought up the little nuggets that Junior shared with me. Club voted him down cold, which is a problem, because I think he’s telling the truth.

  According to Junior, it’s his cousin Tony who’s running the show back in New York. Tony doesn’t have the rank or the right to make the decisions he’s making, but he’s doing it anyway. And the first decision Tony made when he got out of the hospital was that he wanted Alex dead. Junior says that Tony did some kind of bullshit initiation process with him then gave Junior the gold Desert Eagle he says all his father’s men carry. It’s the Mancuso signature.

  He was given a choice—kill his sister or Tony was going to kill him. Junior hasn’t been able to make contact with his dad or Uncle Emilio, his father’s underboss, because he’s got his own charges pending, but he doesn’t think his dad knows what Tony’s up to. Still, New York is a hot fucking mess, and Junior was more than happy to do Tony’s bidding. Or so Tony thinks. To this day, he maintains he just snapped in a moment of fear and couldn’t stop himself. He never wanted to hurt his sister.

  “And?” he asks.

  “They think you’re full of shit,” I say. “Got no reason to trust you.”

  “She’s my sister,” he says. His large brown eyes look sorrowful and thoughtful. He isn’t pissed like he was last time. Now he’s just resigned. Then again, last time was when Jim delivered the news about Ruby. So maybe I’m feeling generous, but I’m gonna cut the kid some slack.

  “My twin sister. I’m trying to help her, and since she refuses to let go of your club, I guess I’m trying to help you, too. Tony’s out for blood, and he knows by now that the plan he concocted didn’t work. Think about it. You cannot possibly understand the choice I had to make, but do believe that everything I did was to protect my sister.”

  We go back and forth for another few minutes before my phone rings. I ignore it the first time, but by the second call, I pull it out of my pocket and see NIC across the screen. Sliding my finger over the green bar, I bring the phone to my ear. She’s sniffling and breathing heavy.

 
; “Nic?” I say. Concern fills me, and I stand from the chair and walk to the door, where I signal for two of the men to come back inside. I walk to my bike. Whatever’s going on, it doesn’t sound good.

  “Jeremy,” she says in a rush. “I need you to find Jeremy.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask, positioning the phone between my face and my shoulder so I can strap the half helmet on my head.

  “He took my car and went after Darren.”

  “Why’d he go after Darren?”

  “He was defending me,” she says. Her voice sounds strangled and hoarse.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “I am now,” she says on a whisper. I let her know I’m going to be there soon and hang up the phone, instructing her to lock the doors and stay in the spare room because that’s the safest room in the house.

  Jeremy’s phone rings once before he answers it with a clipped, “Got it handled, Sir.”

  “What happened?” I ask, this time far less cordial than I was with his sister.

  “Jennings came to the house and gave Nic some kind of folder. She told him she didn’t want him looking into Dad’s case anymore. Everything seemed fine, so I turned my TV on, but the next thing I know she’s fucking screaming. By the time I got to the living room, that sick fuck had her on her knees with his dick in her face.” The air drains from my lungs as rage fills my heart. I can’t focus on anything with the next words I hear. “He tried to make her suck his dick, probably rape her, too.”

  I failed her. Because I left and came here to take care of shit I don’t have any business worrying about right now, I fucking failed her. My stomach churns, and my mouth goes dry. For the briefest moment, it brings back what happened to Chel and how we found her.

  “I stopped him,” Jeremy says. “Got a few licks in before he ran. I don’t think he knew I was in the house. He didn’t get far.”

  “Where is he?” I grit out, barely able to say the words. I’ve known anger, and I’ve known rage. I’ve even known fury. But this shit is fucking me up and making me see red in a way I never have before.

  “Trunk,” Jeremy says. “This is club business, right? I called a few of the guys and they’re meeting me at the club house.”

  “Good,” is all I can say. It’s like I’m on autopilot as I climb onto my bike, fire her up, and kick up the stand. I hang up the phone, shove it in my pocket, and peel out down the road for the highway.

  In no time at all, I’m at the house and opening the door to the spare bedroom. On the floor, beneath the window, is Nic. She’s pulled up her legs and her arms rest atop her knees. In her right hand is a pairing knife. Her hair is a little messy, and her eyes are red, but she looks a lot better than I expect. I had expected her to be crying or even afraid. But no. Sometimes I forget how strong my girl really is. With a steady gaze she says, “I’m fine.”

  “He hit you?” I ask, striding into the room and crouching down in front of her. Very slowly, I reach out, and she lets me take the knife. With the way I went off on her earlier, I’m relieved she doesn’t try to slice off some of my flesh.

  “Just across the face,” she says. I move my hand up to gently cup her cheek.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” I say. “I really fucked up this time.”

  “Our kid is screwed,” she says, letting out a heavy breath. I crack a smile that I don’t mean, and she responds with a soft laugh that doesn’t meet her eyes.

  “Yeah,” I say and press my lips to hers. “But he’s gonna be ours.”

  I give it another moment before I stand and pull her up with me. As much as I wanna be here all night with her, I got shit to take care of.

  “It was Darren,” I say, finally making the connection. “The guy who hit you—it was him.” She nods her head and diverts her eyes.

  “Nine times—now ten. I can tell you exactly how each time went down. Sometimes it was a pop in the mouth like tonight, sometimes it was much worse.” With big eyes, she looks up at me. “I’ve never told anybody that before.”

  “He ever try something like he did tonight?” I ask, fucking terrified of the answer.

  “You want the answer to that?” she asks, sadly. I let my eyes fall closed for half a second and vow that I’m going to lay waste to this piece of shit.

  “No, but I need the answer,” I admit.

  “Darren Jennings has violated me in every way you can imagine,” she says as her face heats and tears pool in her eyes. Looking at her and knowing what she’s been through, I can’t help but be selfish enough to feel like shit for not knowing and not protecting her. And I made her bring that shit home. I made her deal with him when I should have been there.

  “He’s going to pay for what he did, for every single time he put his hands on you. I promise you, baby. Never again.”

  “Where is he?” she asks.

  “Jer’s got him at the clubhouse. We’re taking care of it.”

  “I want to see him,” she says. I shake my head and tell her that’s not going to happen. “I’m the one he hurt, not the club. I get that you gotta take care of this, but so do I. Please, take me with you.”

  Chapter 24

  The ride to the clubhouse was tense. I didn’t feel right about bringing Nic with me, but I also didn’t feel right about leaving her at the house all scared and fucked up. Not that she was showing she was scared or fucked up. Truth be told, she mostly looked pissed. But that’s how she is. She’s good about hiding her emotions when she wants to. Still, I couldn’t deny her this. If she needs to see the prick take a beating to feel better, that’s what I’ll give to her.

  Inside the clubhouse, in the game room, the pool table has been pushed aside. Diesel and Grady stand on either side of Darren, making sure he doesn’t move an inch. Across the room, leaning up against the wall, is Jeremy. His arms are folded, and his eyes are trained on Darren like he might kill him if he flinches wrong. I know the feeling, but I check myself before I make a mess that we can’t get out. We’ll be able to get blood off the concrete, but not so much off the pool table or the sofa.

  “She shouldn’t be here,” Diesel says, catching my eye and lifting his chin at Nic, who follows behind me.

  “She needs this,” I say and defy any one of my brothers to say a word. Shit’s upside down right now and I don’t know what Jeremy told them. He did well tonight. I’d rather he had let me call my brothers, but that’s selfish. He saw a way to help his sister—my woman—and he took it. And he did it the right way, knowing this was club business. Can’t be mad at that.

  Wyatt strides in behind us carrying a wrench, a large flathead screwdriver, and a large bottle of bleach. He sets the wrench and the screwdriver down on the pool table and the bleach on the floor. With a nod of his head, Grady and Diesel each grab one of Darren’s arms and lift him off the couch. His eyes are wide, and he struggles, but is totally outmatched by my brothers. They shove him to his knees, and each places a foot on his ankles to keep him in place.

  “Come here, kid,” Wyatt says to Jeremy, who responds immediately. Wyatt directs him to stand behind Darren and to hold him by the hair so he can’t turn away. “Prove to me that you’ve got enough heart for this club.”

  Jeremy grabs Darren’s hair at the roots and yanks his head up with both hands. I turn to Nic and place a kiss on her temple. “You don’t have to watch this.”

  “Yes I do,” she says. As much as I wish she weren’t here, I can see that she’s resolved.

  “He scared you—back then?” I ask.

  “He separated me from everything I ever loved,” she says just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Jeremy’s grip on Darren’s hair tightens, and both Diesel and Grady twist their boots into his ankles. Darren squirms uncomfortably and whimpers in pain.

  “You never have to feel that way again,” I say and place a hand on her stomach. There’s nothing physically there to feel, but I swear—now that I know she’s got my baby inside her, I can sense the difference. I might be crazy as fuck, but I’ve
been hot for this girl for a decade now. “What we got going on, it ain’t gonna end. We got this shit.”

  I can feel my brothers watching us, but I don’t give a fuck. This is for her, not them. “But before we can move on, we got to end this. All that shit he did to you—you let it out now, baby. Let him have it.”

  Once again, I underestimate her. I expect her to tell me that she can’t, or she’s afraid. But she does none of those things. She just stretches up on her tip toes and gives me a kiss. When she pulls away, she walks over to the pool table then moves to stand in front of Darren.

  With watchful eyes, Wyatt comes to stand beside me. He says, “I wouldn’t let my woman in on this shit.”

  I shake my head and say, “The only woman you got is your right hand and the Lost Girls. Nic can handle this shit. Remember who her dad is.”

  Just as I finish my sentence, Nic brings the wrench back and then slams it into the side of Darren’s face. His head drops forward, but Jeremy pulls him back up so he’s facing her. She leans over and screams in his face, “That was one.”

  She rears back and brings the wrench down to his upper arms as hard as she can. I stand in silence, realizing how angry she is and what she’s capable of. The sight before me reminds me to never hurt her as bad as he has. She wasn’t a woman she might be able to prospect, because fuck if she ain’t handling her shit.

  “That’s two. You have eight more,” she hisses.

  Wyatt clears his throat and leans in toward me and says, “I retract my comment. Chick is scary as fuck.” Darren starts mumbling something I can’t understand, but it only serves to piss her off further. She slams the wrench into his abdomen twice more.

  “Oh, baby,” she says in a mocking tone that’s half scream, half whisper. “Why do you make me hit you? Why do you make me so mad? Is it because you don’t love me?” And she goes on, delivering angry line after line of what I can only guess is the shit he said to her. She gets in a total of seven blows then stops. I think she’s done when she starts pacing, and I take a step closer to her. The angry jerk of her head and her anxious plea make me stop. “I have three more.”