Out From Under

by Selene Chardou

  “Listen…I’m pregnant, Trista. And before you ask, it isn’t Seth’s baby. I need you here and you wouldn’t be my PA…exactly…but it’s the only way I could get you here on Introspect’s payroll. The job pays thirty grand a year. Your parents’ stipend and that salary plus what I give you, will keep you in the money. You won’t be a millionaire until you’re twenty-five, but realize you’ll be making more than the average American, so don’t bitch and complain.”

  Of course she knew I would take the job because I needed to get out of town and I had no wish to live in Connecticut. Even if it paid peanuts, I would have accepted it; my options were limited at the moment.

  “Yeah, sure, of course. You’ll need help with the baby and—”

  “I’m hiring a nanny, but it would be nice for you to be here. You’re my baby cousin and you have just gone through an extremely traumatic event. I don’t want to be alone here in L.A. and I don’t want you to be by yourself either. Please say yes.”

  My mind was a jumble of images and pictures of both the living and the dead. I couldn’t stay in this house much longer. It would drive me absolutely bat shit crazy. I sipped from my Macallan scotch and welcomed the burn as the liquid slid down my throat.

  “Of course I will be there. When do you want me to arrive? When the tour is completed?”

  “I am sending you the ticket information now. Just stay there until I get back from tour and try not to make a mess. Your flight leaves the day after the funeral. I got you an afternoon flight, all right? I love you so much, but I have to go. We’ll talk again, okay?”

  I nodded my head though I knew she couldn’t see me. “Thanks, Talia.”

  “No. Thank you, Trista. You are saving me more than the other way around. You got that?”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  The phone call ended and I stared at the screen until it blanked out.

  At least I knew I would be leaving in two days.

  I finally took “Up in the Air” off auto-repeat and pressed shuffle on my iPod. Trilogy’s “Buy Me a Little Happiness” started up with a killer guitar riff and with that, I lay down on my bed and allowed my eyes to slowly close. Before I knew it, my Kindle was powered down in my lap and I had passed out in a deep sleep.

  IF ANYONE ASKED me to describe the funeral where I watched four closed coffins buried side by side, I couldn’t do it with any clear sense of what was happening.

  All the bodies had been burned beyond recognition and therefore, although we were Catholic born and raised, there would be no open-caskets for any of the dearly departed.

  Both MC clubs led the hearses down Main Street along with the Pine Bluff police department. It was maudlin and depressing to say the least, especially since I rode in one of the limousines with my brother and Keri.

  I don’t even remember the dress I wore except it was black, long-sleeved and quite plain. My hair was pulled back into a chignon and my face didn’t have anything on it other than a bit of cover-up and lip-gloss.

  Trey held my hand the whole time and although his touch should have reassured me that everything would be all right, I didn’t feel anything but numb. I knew what those hands, so warm, reassuring and gentle with me could cause; the sheer amount of devastation they could reap with enough emotional pain and a nine millimeter within his grip. The pain had worked its way through my system and after crying so much, I thought my tear ducts would dry up, but there were always more from where they came from.

  I’d been living a complete and utter lie.

  I’d believed my parents would be safe. I’d believed I could make a normal life for myself the same way Tristan had done, but it wasn’t true. None of it was true. As long as I stayed in Pine Bluff, nothing would ever be normal or okay. The town had taken my family, ripped out my heart and destroyed my soul. I wanted nothing more to do with this tranquil piece of Hell any longer.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  I looked up into the kind eyes of Keri and smiled slightly, though it was half-assed and all I wanted was a stiff drink and a Xanax to make the world go away.

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  I stood and walked over to the table piled high with food. The reception was held at the Demon’s Bastards clubhouse and I immediately grabbed a bottle of Macallan and poured a hefty amount into a red plastic cup.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Yes, I know. Thank you. I have heard that phrase about a million times today. Please move on and fuck off,” I snapped at the male voice, not bothering to turn around.

  “Trista,” the voice began, and I was turned around to face Clooney.

  He was all in black and looked properly dressed in his suit. His blond-streaked hair was slicked back against his head and his steel-gray eyes shone brilliantly. He certainly seemed full of contrition and guilt.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize…” I trailed off before I swigged from my drink.

  “It doesn’t matter.” He nervously stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “What are you going to do now? Have you made any decisions about your future?”

  I smiled, though there was nothing all that genuine about it. “Actually, the decisions have been made for me by other people, but it’s all good. I won’t be staying here. I can’t tell you where I am going either. Since we don’t know who did what or why most of my family lost their lives, the Sheriff and my brother think my future location should be kept a secret and I’m inclined to agree with them at this point.”

  Clooney cocked his head to the side. “If the bodies were burned beyond recognition, how do they know it was your family who died?”

  I pursed my lips and narrowed angry eyes. I glared at my ex like he was the biggest idiot in the world. “Hello? DNA tests. They don’t become null and void just because a body is badly burned.”

  “Oh.” He suddenly grabbed me by the arm and led me outside. The weather was freezing, snow decorated the trees and the ground and the way the sky looked, there would be more before nightfall.

  “I’m not supposed to be talking to you, remember?” I snapped with fury in my tone.

  “Yeah, I get it. You’re pissed at me because I dumped you, but you were going to dump me anyway so what difference does it make? You were the first woman to possess my heart—do you think I would forget about that any time soon? I still love you, Trista, but you deserve a life away from all of this. Look what’s happened to your family and what’s left of it. Regardless of where you go, I hope you are happy at least.”

  Although my body screamed in protest and my insides seemed to claw away at me to step away from him, I embraced him and didn’t let go, not even when I began to sob, yet again.

  “You’ll be pleased to know I am going somewhere safe with bodyguards and I will be all right. You can bet on that.” We separated reluctantly and I stared into his eyes. “We both know it wouldn’t have lasted, even if the original plan had worked out. You wouldn’t have been able to deal with me at Stanford and when I planned to break up with you, it was best for the both of us. It was me trying not to be selfish and to allow you to live your life. We both know being part of this club is your life and who am I to take that away?

  “When you patched in, you became a member for the rest of your life and I was never going to be an old lady, not even for you. I still have feelings for you and I love you but I was never in love, so it makes it that much easier to let go and move on. The best decision I could have ever made was to let you go and I’m glad I did. Now you can be happy and find a woman who is truly meant for you.”

  Clooney laughed out loud then, downing the rest of his beer and flinging the bottle against the clubhouse, where it shattered and littered a blanket of white snow with fragments of green glass.

  “That’s bullshit and we both know it. You were the one for me and I will never find another woman like you. Me? Men like me? I’m a dime a dozen and once you get to where ever the hell it is you’re going, you’ll find a guy and he i
s gonna treat you like your ass is made of gold and your pussy is fur-lined. Am I cool with that? Not in the slightest fucking sense, but what can I do? Not a goddamn thing without pissing off major members of the club. You’re worth it, but not if you won’t even try for us.”

  I swallowed the rest of the scotch in my plastic cup and threw it at him in sheer blind anger, though it bounced off without doing any damage. “What part about today is not registering in that pea brain of yours? I lost most of my fucking family and you want to talk about our failed relationship? I don’t give a shit if I ever find another man again because at the moment, it isn’t really high on my list of priorities. My mother, my father, Tristan, and Taryn are gone, cold, buried in that frozen ground and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.”

  I breathed in and out, my breath coming in layers of white air that dissipated quickly. “I would have given anything to be with them that night, because at least I wouldn’t be alone. I could have died right along beside them and I would feel a sense of relief and peace, but all I am now is an empty, broken shell. I don’t exist anymore. Life to me is just getting up, taking a shower, putting on clothes and putting one foot in front of the other. We can’t be together because I don’t have anything left to give you or anyone else—can’t you understand that?”

  Clooney’s mouth gaped open like a fish but at that moment, I didn’t give a damn if I had hurt him or gone too far with what I said.

  Without my family, he no longer meant anything to me.

  In fact, as far as I was concerned, he might as well have been dead with them.

  TREY DROVE ME to Reno-Tahoe International Airport.

  We sat across from one another and I realized I didn’t have much to say to him. To be honest, I didn’t want to blame him because the police could find no evidence our parents’ or brother’s death had anything to do with the club, but a part of me still held him responsible.

  What if he’d gone to Caltech? Would he still be a gangster and would he be in a motorcycle club? Probably not and then our family might have been whole and still alive. I hated the way I felt because he was my only close family left, but I couldn’t be around him at the moment. If Talia hadn’t taken me in, I would have gone back to Connecticut with my aunt and uncle because I couldn’t stand staying in Northern Nevada. I just wanted to leave this place and forget it ever existed in the first place.

  “Trista, are you going to be all right?” Trey finally asked in a quiet voice.

  I glared at him and I knew my eyes must have looked like daggers. “Are you fucking with me?”

  He gripped my chin with strong, ring-covered fingers. “Stop using so much foul language—it’s unbecoming of your beautiful and unique personality. I know you’re not going to be okay in that sense—neither will I. What I’m talking about, is staying with Talia and living in L.A. It’s a complete one-eighty from this place.”

  “No shit and it’s definitely what I need right now. I’m not some country bumpkin, you know. I will be just fine in L.A. I would rather be with Talia than anyone else.”

  Trey let go of my face and ran his hands through his hair. “She lives in the fast lane, Trista. She’s in a rock band with a bunch of horny guys who would like nothing more than to get their dirty hands on my hot, young virginal sister.”

  I snickered at this point. “Isn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black? I made it through thirteen years of living here and being surrounded by three MCs and a brother who is a major player in one of them. L.A. should be a piece of cake.”

  Trey shook his head before he reached over and embraced me. His lips kissed my forehead. “Call me when you arrive and whatever you do, don’t get sucked into it. Remember, it’s not real. Nothing there is real and if you ever need a place to crash, you can always come back home.”

  I felt the vomit rise in my throat at that statement and fought hard to keep down the BLT sandwich I’d eaten for lunch. “That won’t happen. I won’t ever come back, not to live here at least. This place is as dead to me as our parents and brother. I never want to reside here again.”

  He sighed and got out of the car before he helped me with my bags. I’d only packed one carry-on and one piece to check in. It was a very small part of my wardrobe but I had no wish to wear most of the clothes in my closet ever again. Some smelled like my mother and father, others reminded me of Tristan. And then there were the clothes I’d worn for Clooney and I would never wear them for another man ever again.

  I grabbed my stuff. “Talk to you soon. Take care of yourself and promise me you won’t go on a rampage. No matter how many people you kill or how much bloodshed you cause, it won’t bring back our family.”

  Trey’s hazel-green eyes were hard and dark. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me how to do my job, Trista. There will be revenge for our parents’ death and if you think I am just going to lay back and take it, you’ve got another think coming. I have murdered before and feel absolutely no qualms about what I have done. Whomever I kill because of what happened to our parents, won’t cause me to miss one good night’s worth of sleep. It comes with the job.”

  I nodded and attempted a smile as I walked inside the airport. I didn’t even bother looking back. Trey was a survivor and he would be fine. It was my own fragile sanity I was worried about.

  As I walked through the airport, I felt more dead than alive. The whole process of checking in, receiving my ticket and walking through security all made me feel numb. I didn’t begin to relax until I was safely on the plane and the captain informed us we had been given the clear to take off.

  The moment the plane raced down the runway before it took flight and started its ascent into the air, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

  Pine Bluff was firmly behind me and there was only one way to go: forward.

  Part Two

  After

  Two months later

  Chapter Ten

  LINX KNEW HE was running late to the studio.

  After Cassidy realized there would be no reunion between them, she seemed to do crazy shit on purpose just to get under his skin. That day was a prime example.

  Apparently, she was going back to Boston to visit her family and would be gone for two weeks. Brady and Jimi were going with her, so either he saw his kids that morning, or he would miss seeing them for two weeks.

  He’d already gone six whole months without seeing them during the tour and he cherished the time he spent with his boys.. They were old enough to know what their dad did for a living, but still young enough to easily forget him if he weren’t careful. They were Irish twins, at the age of four and five, and he loved them both so much.

  Linx only got two hours with them that morning before he laughingly convinced himself that he could get to Culver City from Beverly Hills in a half hour. It had already been twenty-five minutes and he was still sitting in his pearl-cream Cadillac Escalade on the 405. The traffic was impossible and he’d be lucky if he was only thirty minutes late.

  His phone began to ring and he picked it up, blue-tooth stuck firmly in his ear.

  “I know, I’m fucking late and it’s eating into our studio time,” he greeted without waiting for Talia to say “Hello”.

  “Actually, you’re fine. Some douchebag scheduled Trilogy before us and they are taking forever. Can you believe it? We won't be ready to actually record for at least another hour, so take your time,” she replied, her voice casual.

  “Thanks. I really appreciate it. It’s just…my kids will be gone for two weeks and I wanted to see them before they left—”

  “Linx, I understand. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

  She ended the call abruptly, but it wasn’t out of rudeness.

  If anyone understood, it would be her. She was working double time, re-recording the vocals on their first two albums and working on their yet-to-be-released LP. He knew she had a lot on her plate; she was over four months pregnant and had taken in her teenage cousin due to the
family tragedy that had happened while they’d been on tour.

  That was one part of her life that Linx knew nothing about. This mystery cousin had yet to be introduced to any of the band and Talia was extreme in her protectiveness over her. They never went anywhere together without at least two bodyguards and although she was supposedly Talia’s PA, she did her job efficiently and quietly stayed in the background.

  Linx wouldn’t be a man if he couldn’t admit how badly he wanted to meet this cousin of Talia’s. If she looked half as beautiful and sexy as their lead singer, then he could understand why Talia kept her under lock and key. She might only be a teenager but she was eighteen—fucking legal—and from a small town. Her sexual experiences were probably limited to a fumbling high school boyfriend, if that, so she certainly wasn’t like the skanks the guys attracted when they ventured out on a Friday night to any of L.A.’s hot spots like the Sky Bar or the Viper Room.

  He could feel his cock harden just imagining her and almost rear ended the beat-up Honda Civic in front of him.

  Linx hadn’t gotten laid since the pretty Japanese woman in Tokyo. As far as he was concerned, that was three months too long; however, with all the social diseases floating around, it was better to use his hand and know he was clean, than to mess around with every hot chick and sundry and end up with a nasty sexually transmitted disease. He’d been there, done that, early on in his career.

  While he now he had a clean bill of health—during the early days of his career—he’d been quite the man-whore, careless about condom usage and nailing almost everything in a short skirt who came on to him. He’d suffered from crabs, Syphilis and Chlamydia, all before the age of twenty-one. He was lucky he’d been treated early and he thanked God he’d never passed a social disease on to anyone else. He was lucky he’d never come down with a nasty case of HPV. Luckily, he’d smartened up, too, and wasn’t careless with his trysts.