Blade (Archer's Creek Book 3)

by Gemma Weir

  Unwanted jealous tears pool in my eyes when I fully acknowledge that this apartment is going to be my sister’s new home. This is where she’s going to live with the man she loves. She’s only eighteen, but she’s found her one, and she doesn’t need me anymore. Even though I’m here, in this town, she’ll never live with me again.

  I try to be pleased for her, and somewhere, deep inside of me I am; but my heart breaks for myself. I’m completely and totally alone. Sure, I’ve picked up a couple of friends here and there in the last two years, but essentially I’m alone. Unlike Dove, I haven’t created a new family to replace the monsters that gave me life. Instead I’ve deliberately chosen to isolate myself. My protective instincts are so ingrained that I’ve never even considered letting anyone become important to me.

  When I first ran I went a little crazy. Being free from the oppressive, suffocating environment of my parents’ home, I experimented with boys and men, and anything else that sparked my inbuilt sense of adventure. It didn’t take me long to realize that the type of men that interested me weren’t good for me, and that drugs and too much fun left me out of control and vulnerable. I’ve spent too much of my life weak and at the mercy of an abuser, to allow myself to spiral into oblivion when I’ve finally found the courage to escape into the light.

  The day I fled from my parents’ home, I took control of my body, my life, and my future. I vowed never to allow myself to be controlled or abused. So I found malleable men that only held my interest long enough to sate my ‘needs’. The closest I’d ever come to an actual relationship was ironically with a biker. A friend of a friend introduced me to Warren ‘Cue’ Miller and I was barreled over by the lust I felt for him. He was part of the Vipers MC and so full of swagger, I just couldn’t help myself. The sex was unbelievable and even though we never really talked about it, we sort of fell into a relationship.

  I knew he was a biker, but he’d had his own apartment, so we hung out there. It wasn’t until he took me to his club for a party one night that I realized what the MC life entailed. Cue treated me like his property, groping me in front of his brothers and boasting about how I was his bitch and his property. I dumped his ass the same night, and right then and there I vowed I’d never allow any man to treat me like a possession.

  “Nikki.”

  Blinking, I drag myself back to the present and focus on my sister’s voice. “Yeah, sweetie?”

  “Do you want to see the rest of the place?”

  Nodding, I rise from the couch and follow her as she shows me the bathroom, bedroom, and kitchen. “It’s a great apartment,” I say, and I truly mean it, despite the thread of bitterness still lacing my stomach.

  “I know. Our first proper home together. Did I tell you that I’m starting at the community college next week? Grits got me a brochure and to start off I’m taking a couple of English classes,” my sister says excitedly.

  “That’s so great, I’m so proud of you,” I say, the words catching in my throat. My heart swells with pride at my sister’s achievements, but it also aches with loss that others have been able to see her thrive whilst I wasn’t here. My cell rings and I cross the room to retrieve it from my purse. Swiping the screen, I answer, not looking at the caller ID.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Nikki, it’s Trish. I just emailed a list of available properties in Archer’s Creek for you to look over. All of them are ready for you to view in the next couple days and one of them is a bank foreclosure, so if you like it, I’m sure we could get it you at a good price. Check them out and give me a call if any of them are what you’re looking for. In the meantime, I’ll keep searching for more properties for you.”

  “Thanks, Trish, I’ll be in touch.”

  “Okay then, bye.”

  “Bye,” I say and end the call. Three sets of eyes all look at me expectantly, but I focus on my sister. “My realtor,” I say. “She just emailed me some properties to look over.”

  “Wow, so quick. Let’s have a look, they could be close to here,” Dove says, moving next to me so she can see the screen of my cell.

  Clicking into my email, I quickly locate the one from Trish and open it. The details of five properties are attached, and one by one I open them and scan the pictures. The first is a small cottage-style home with a tiny yard and I instantly discount it, two are craftsman style bungalows that look okay, but I discount them for their lack of curb appeal.

  Opening the fourth property, I hear Dove’s gasp. “Oh, Sissy, that’s beautiful.”

  She’s right, the Cape Cod style house is one-and-a-half story’s with white shutter-board cladding and red shutters that frame the sides of each window. It’s a picture perfect, chocolate box house and I glance over my shoulder to my sister and she nods and smiles at me encouragingly.

  “It’s beautiful, but it’s not a cheap house. Can you afford it?” She asks.

  I wave off her concern. “Don’t worry about money. I can comfortably afford it.”

  “Well then you have to go see it. Plus it’s only a few streets over; we’d practically be neighbors,” she cries excitedly.

  “I’ll email Trish and see if I can view it tomorrow. Will you come with me?”

  She nods quickly, grabbing my arm. “Yes, yes, yes. Of course, I’ll come with you. Now open the next one, maybe that’s even closer.”

  Grinning at her enthusiasm, I click onto the final property’s details. My mouth goes dry and my heart feels like it withers and dies in my chest. Dove’s grip on my arm tightens to the point of pain and I hear the anguished gasp that falls from her lips, but I’m incapable of turning to see if she’s okay. Staring back at me from my phone are photographs of our parents’ home.

  My eyes dart manically over the tiny photos of each room of the house Dove and I had lived in. The house we both lost some of our soul in. The house we were beaten and abused in. I feel Dove’s tight hold on my arm loosen and I vaguely recognize the shape of Daisy as he moves to her side.

  I feel my chest rise and fall as my body breathes for me. My heart booms so loudly, I swear I can actually hear it as it pumps the blood around my body, but everything seems to be in slow motion. My eyes refuse to leave the pictures that torment me from the cellphone in my hands. Then suddenly time speeds up. My breathing feels too erratic, my heartbeat’s too fast and I drop my cell to the floor as I run to the bathroom. I barely make it before I fall to my knees in front of the toilet and throw up the contents of my stomach.

  When the nausea passes, I slump onto the floor, sweat beading on my forehead and tears running down my face. The reality of seeing that house, those rooms, still burns in my stomach and a second bout of heaving has me rolling over the toilet again.

  My stomach is empty, but my body continues to try to excrete the demons from me and I retch noisily until finally my stomach stills and I fall back into a heap, my back propped against the cool tile wall.

  “You okay?” A deep male voice asks.

  I lookup, tears blurring my vision, and lock eyes with Blade. His large black boots cross the room and he runs the tap, returning with a wet washcloth in his hand. Squatting down in front of me, he gently pushes stray strands of my hair to the side and hands me the cool, damp cloth.

  The concern in his eyes is like a kick to the ribs and my pride rankles at him seeing me like this. I’d rather have his obnoxious condescension than his sympathy and pity. Taking the cloth from him, I push onto my knees and clamber shakily to my feet. Lowering my eyes to the ground I rush away from him, crossing the bathroom to wipe my face and wash my hands. There are brand new towels with the tags still attached piled neatly on a shelf and grabbing one I dry my hands and face.

  I pull in a reaffirming breath, then shutter my expression before I spin to face Blade. “Must have been the food I ate on the plane.”

  Dark, perceptive eyes stare back at me and his gaze drifts over my face. He’s assessing me, searching for something, but my secrets are my own and I have no intention of sharing anything wit
h him. Forcing my expression to remain neutral, I walk past him and into the living room. I immediately search for my sister, and find her cuddled up on Daisy’s lap, his lips at her ear cooing reassuring words to her.

  I don’t want to address the pictures of our parents’ house or the very obvious meltdown I had in reaction to them, so instead I clear my throat. Dove raises her head and smiles a watery smile at me. “Are you okay?” she asks.

  “I’m fine. You know what airplane food is like. I swear sometimes it’s sat on that plane for days,” I say dismissively.

  “Have you been back there since you left?” She asks in a small voice.

  “No.”

  “Me neither,” she says, and I watch as Daisy rubs the back of her neck with his thumb soothingly.

  I don’t want to talk about this. That house is literally the thing that haunts my dreams and I don’t want to get into my feelings about the place, especially not with my sister. So instead I plaster a bright smile on my face. “You feel like doing some shopping? It sure looks like you need a few things.” I say with a forced smirk and lift of my eyebrows.

  Dove looks unsure until Daisy dips his head and whispers something into her ear. Her eyes lift to mine again and she nods, moving off his lap. Daisy stands, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash pushing it into her hand. Then he turns to look at me. “We have towels and a couch, so we need everything else. Make sure she buys anything she likes and if you need more money, just let me know.”

  I want to say I have plenty of money, and I can buy anything she wants, but I don’t. This is the moment where I have to decide if I want to try to become a part of my sister’s life or merely stand on the sidelines, only spending time with her when it’s prearranged and away from her boyfriend. New plan, I think to myself, and then holding my tongue I simply smile at Daisy and nod.

  He pulls my sister in for a quick kiss. “Do you have your cell and your keys?”

  She nods, grabbing her purse from the hall closet and waving her cell at him.

  Daisy crosses the room to her in three long strides. When he reaches her, he cups her face in his hands and stares into her eyes. “If you need me, call me. I love you.”

  The love that shines from my sister at his words is breathtaking. Like before, I feel a pang of something in my stomach and I look away, unable to watch this poignant moment between two people who are so obviously head-over-heels in love.

  Spotting my forgotten cell on the floor, I busy myself by quickly crossing the room to pick it up. I swipe the screen, bringing my phone to life and close down my email. Once the pictures of my parents’ home have disappeared, I exhale deeply and feel the tension seep from my shoulders.

  “Don’t forget the rules.” Blade drawls into my ear from beside me.

  Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him over my shoulder. “Fuck you, Blade.”

  His answering smirk is filled with salacious glee. “Any time, Duchess, any time.”

  Stomping away from him, I grab my purse from the side of the couch and hook it over my shoulder. Looking up at my sister, I smile. “You ready?”

  She nods. “Yep.”

  “Great, let’s go then. Jock, come on,” I call to my dog who is happily sniffing his way around the room. Jock immediately rushes to my side, his leash firmly between his teeth. Leaning down, I fuss his ears and then lead the way to the front door.

  “See you later, Duchess,” Blade calls.

  “I really hope not, stalker,” I say, without looking over my shoulder.

  I watch the retreating images of Nikki, Dove, and the stupid rat dog, until the door closes behind them with a click. Turning to Daisy, I raise a surprised eyebrow at him. “Are we following?”

  Daisy shakes his head, his eyes still focused on the closed door. “Nope.”

  Ripping my eyes from the door, I turn to face him, incredulity pulsing through me. “What the fuck, Daisy; you trust her with Dove?”

  “Yes,” Daisy replies simply.

  “Did you find out something that I don’t know? Because a couple of hours ago that girl was enemy number fucking one, and now you’re all like, go roam the shops or some other shit,” I growl, crossing my arms across my chest defensively.

  “Calm the fuck down. Dino has eyes on them. I’m not fucking stupid; there’s no way I’d leave my woman unprotected. But Nikki’s not gonna try to hurt Angel, and we both know she won’t convince her to leave.”

  “How the fuck do you know? We don’t know anything about her, other than she’s somehow come back from the dead.”

  Daisy tilts his head to the side and eyes me contemplatively. “Because I saw the look in her eyes when she begged me not to keep Angel away from her. I’ve seen that look before. It was the same way Angel looked when I first met her. Nikki’s lived too much life, felt too much pain, and I think she really just wants her sister back.”

  Inhaling deeply, I blow out a labored breath. “I still want to know what the fuck happened two years ago.”

  “Me too, but I don’t think Nikki’s here to hurt Angel or cause problems. The look on my girl’s face when she saw her sister, it was like all her Christmases had come at once and I won’t ruin that for her unless I absolutely have to. Angel’s happy, this is her home and we’re her family. Getting her sister back is just the cherry on top of the cake, and while she’s happy, I’m happy. If that changes, and her sister does something to jeopardize our future, then I’ll deal with Nikki when the time comes.”

  I’m skeptical. Nikki’s setting off all sorts of alarm bells for me. She’s been missing without a word for two years and there’s something bubbling below her surface, that is nothing like the fragility that Dove exudes. Nikki’s harder, more tarnished and dark. I don’t know if the others see that in her, but I do, because I know what those things feel like. Nikki’s running from something and I want to know what it is. For some reason I feel compelled to know everything about her. My cell rings and grabbing it I see Anders’ name on the screen. “Boss”.

  “Need you and Daisy back here. Puck’s got something for us,” Anders says.

  “On our way.” Ending the call, I turn to Daisy. “Puck’s got something for us. Boss wants us back at the club.”

  We pull into the compound less than ten minutes later and park our bikes in the garage. The short walk through the clubhouse to Anders’ office is done in tense silence, neither me nor Daisy in the mood for small talk. Knocking once, I push the door open when Anders’ shouts “Come,” and head to my usual seat in front of the desk. Puck is seated to my right and Daisy sinks down between us.

  “Puck’s got the first lot of intel on Dove’s sister. He’s already told me the details, but I’ll let him fill you in,” Anders says.

  I turn my attention to Puck.

  “I actually found more than I was expecting. She’s been staying on the down low, but she hasn’t exactly been hiding,” Puck says.

  “So what has she been doing?” I ask.

  “Okay.” He says opening the manila file in his lap. “Nicole Eloise Jefferies, now Nikki Campbell. She changed her name legally a month after she left her parents’ home. She has a degree in Accounting from the University of Houston. From what I can find from her transcripts, she started off on campus, then switched to distance learning right about the time her family moved to Archer’s Creek. She graduated top five in her class a little over a year ago, but never attended graduation. After she left Archer’s Creek, she worked as a bartender in Houston for a while and found herself mixed up with Cue Miller from the Vipers. Not sure how far things went, but the photos of them stop after a couple months. She lived in an apartment with a girl called Erica Williams for about six months, then after that she lived alone for another six months until she purchased the house she currently lives in, in Chestnut Grove. Her bank records show a steady increase in balance in the last eighteen months and right now she has about five million split between several accounts, as well as stock holdings in multiple companies.”
r />   I whistle between my teeth. “That’s a lot of money,” I murmur under my breath.

  Puck lifts his head, looks at me, nods once, then continues. “Nikki is the owner of a very successful investment firm. From what I’ve found, she has an eye for spotting trends in the market and has a list of very happy and wealthy customers. She owns a house in Chestnut Grove, a condo in Florida, a brownstone in New York and some retail property in Indiana. She’s single, no kids, just a dog and an expensively restored classic car. So far, I can’t find anything linking her to anyone who potentially might have bought her from her father and seeing as she was working in a dive bar a few weeks after she left, I’m gonna go out on a ledge here and say I don’t think there was any human trafficking involved in Nikki leaving her family. What is strange, is that even though she owns property in other states, I can’t find any record of her traveling outside of Texas until three weeks ago when she flew to New York. While she was there, she stayed in a hotel and met with one of her clients by the name of Greg Hammersmith. He’s a trust fund baby, who with the help of Nikki Campbell is now even wealthier that he originally was.”

  “Wait,” I say, raising my hand into the air. “You’re seriously telling me that Nikki is a fucking millionaire?”

  Puck nods. “Yes. Neither her personal bank accounts or the accounts for her business show any suspicious deposits. Obviously, I haven’t had chance to look in-depth into her business transactions, but honestly I don’t think there’s any need to. Her company has grown steadily over the last two years, her books are straightforward and from what I found, incredibly honest. She started with one client and now has a list of about forty. Her services are in demand, but she’s kept her client list exclusive and comfortable for her to handle on her own. She pays her taxes and has no criminal convictions.”

  “She doesn’t come across as fucking rich,” Daisy says absentmindedly.