“He’s one of the ones who retired.”
“Saw that coming.” A bad feeling settles in my gut. “What if they’re looking to recruit their own support club? Or trying to patch-over South of Satan again?”
“South of Satan just had their asses handed to them by the Feds. Whisper isn’t stupid enough to bring that sort of heat to his club.”
“Couple of ‘em already made bail. One had the charges dropped.”
He gives me a slow grin and clap to go with it. “Look at you keeping up on the outlaw news of the day. It’s like you’re fit to be VP or something.”
“Please, that’s like breakfast talk at Rock’s house.” When the girls aren’t around, of course.
“See, you’re already our little mini-VP.”
“Fuck off. There’s nothing mini about me.”
Dicking around time is over. Wrath widens his stance and cocks his head. “Seriously, where you landing on this?”
“Where do you think? Of course, I’ll step up. If that’s what everyone thinks is best for the club, you know I’ll accept the VP patch.”
He slaps my shoulder and gives me a good shake. “That’s my boy.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m hardly a boy.”
“You’ll always be a boy to me.” He slaps my cheek.
“That sounds creepy as fuck.”
“Look, I know you’re going to be focused on the support club kids for a while.” He pulls a face that falls somewhere between resigned and annoyed.
“You don’t sound thrilled about the support club.”
Wrath cocks his head in a way that used to make me feel about three-feet tall. Now, it’s simply annoying. “I’m not thrilled about anything forced on us by Priest.”
“I don’t think he forced anything.”
“Strongly suggested, whatever. We all know the threat of National sending more eyes up here is real if we don’t grow our ranks.”
“Z and Rock were pretty clear why we’re not gonna hand out patches like party favors.”
“Hence, the support club.” He shakes his head. “Forget that for now. I have a new batch of kids coming in for the summer program. I already think one has potential to be a prospect.”
“That’s good.”
“Supposed to be a talented little bomb-maker.” He makes an explosive gesture with his hands.
“Great, just what we need.”
“We can funnel him into doing something useful.”
“Or, maybe he’ll blow up the place.”
“So judgmental,” he mocks. “Where’s your mentoring spirit?”
“You’re the mentor, not me.”
“That’s a terrifying thought.” He shrugs it off. “I want you to assist with a few classes and let me know if anyone stands out to you.”
“No problem.” I attempt to work some enthusiasm into my voice and fail. It’s not the increase in my responsibilities bothering me.
It’s too many changes happening at once for my comfort.
Eight
Heidi
After stopping by the clubhouse for some snuggle-hugs from Alexa and making sure Hope doesn’t mind watching her for a little longer, I head to school for an afternoon class. I’ll probably stay on campus to get some work done after.
Inside the lecture hall, Dawn waves to me, and I hurry to take the seat next to her. I slip my laptop out of my bag and aim my attention at the front of the room.
The two-hour lecture covers some radiation-induced mutations of DNA and chromosomes. Exciting stuff. I tap out notes on my laptop. Later, I’ll add pictures and diagrams to my notes. Eventually, I’ll turn my notes into flashcards to study for finals.
As much as I try to concentrate on the lecture, my mind keeps wandering back to our project. As soon as class ends, I head to the computer lab to access some of the data I need.
It’s late. The lab has a note in the window that the student who monitors the lab in the evenings will be back in an hour.
I wrap my hand around the cool metal lever and push. The door swings open silently. I flick the switch on the wall, and the overhead lights hum to life.
Maybe it’s a habit I picked up from Blake, but I immediately go for the last row where I can have my back to the wall. Not that I should have to worry about anyone sneaking up on me at school, but it’s automatic.
Part of our project was to collect information via confidential blind surveys and interpret the results. I struggled through statistics, so this was supposed to be Bryce’s contribution to the project.
I call up what I need and pull out one of my textbooks.
“Fucking Bryce,” I grumble. I’m never going to figure out this crap on my own.
A ping of something metallic startles me.
I glance up, but I’m still the only person in here.
Silence.
My gaze scans what I can see of the hallway through the lab’s windows.
No one.
Overhead, the air conditioner rattles to life.
“Great, because it’s not cold enough in here.” My voice echoes in the otherwise empty room. I should’ve asked Dawn to come with me, so I wouldn’t have to resort to talking to myself.
I read through the questions and study the results again.
Click.
I lift my head.
Bryce is at the door.
I duck down behind the computer screen, hoping he didn’t see me. Maybe he’ll read the note, assume the lab is closed and won’t bother to try the door.
Except you had to turn on the lights, dumbass.
The slow whine of the door swinging open makes every hair on my arms stand up.
I can’t believe I’m cowering behind the computer. Why should I be afraid?
I duck down lower and grab my backpack, setting it on the chair next to me.
In case I need to make a run for it.
Pretending I wasn’t just trying to hide from him, I glance up again.
Our eyes lock across the room. Nothing between us except a swath of cheap industrial tile floor, rows of particle board desks, rolling chairs, and dozens of sleeping computers.
Something cutting like, finally here to do some work, dances on the tip of my tongue, but the icy glare he sends my way seals my mouth shut.
We’re separated by ten, maybe fifteen feet. He takes a step toward the center aisle of the lab.
The hair on the back of my neck prickles. I ease out of my seat, pulling my backpack off the chair.
“You better talk to your friend and get Professor Emory off my back.” No, hello, Heidi, how are you? Just a demand coated with menace.
A spider of fear crawls over my skin. My hand strays to the pocket in my backpack, where I have a can of pepper spray attached to my keyring. Unfortunately, I left the hammer Blake gave me at home.
I push in my chair and slide to the end of the desk, determined not to get trapped back here.
The lab is a poorly designed room. There are two exits, but I’ll need to push past Bryce to access either one.
Wait, why am I afraid of this jerk?
I haven’t done anything wrong. Hell, I’m not even the one who reported him. Blake and Marcel have been giving me tips on how to defend myself since I could walk. Hope, Trinity, Charlotte, Lilly and I have recently taken some of Jake’s self-defense classes. Not that I’m looking for a confrontation, but I can handle anything this douchewaffle throws my way.
Let’s not get cocky. He has at least four inches and probably forty pounds on me.
Chin up and back straight, I face him. “You should’ve upheld your end of the project. It’s out of my hands.”
“Out of your hands?” he repeats slowly. “You’re not that stupid, Heidi. Go tell Emory that your slutty friend is mistaken.” He pauses and stares at me with cold, calculating eyes. “Vouch for me.”
I gesture toward the computer I’d been working on. “Vouch for you? Like hell. I’m stuck here doing your work.”
He shrugs. “You’re smar
t. You’ll probably do a better job than I would have anyway.”
“That’s not the point. I don’t have time to do your work and mine.”
“If you don’t talk to Emory for me, I’m going to fail this class, and I can’t graduate.”
“Good. Maybe you shouldn’t.”
He steps closer and my fingers close around the cool metal canister of pepper spray, making the keyring jingle as it shifts. Bryce is too focused on my face to notice.
I widen my stance and prepare to strike if necessary, just how Murphy’s taught me.
“Don’t fuck with me, Heidi.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Bryce.”
His mouth twitches, like maybe he finds my defiance amusing or something.
He takes another step, and I grip the pepper spray tighter. It’s still inside my backpack, but I’m confident I can get it out and spray him in time. Maybe whack him with the heavy metal keyring a couple times for good measure.
Try to diffuse the situation and get out of there. That’s what Jake would say.
The idiot who’s supposed to be monitoring the lab should be back soon. Students are in and out of the building all the time. While we’re alone at the moment that could change at any second. Bryce would be nuts to touch me.
Still, I don’t like how he’s closing in and blocking my only path of escape.
“Back off, Bryce. I’ll talk to Dawn. But you need to do some of the project.”
“I’m a busy guy, Heidi. How about you two do the project and just add my name. Like a good girl.” He flashes a party-boy grin that I’m dying to unleash a stream of pepper spray into.
Why are so many boys my age such utter fucking assholes?
I quietly lift the pepper spray out of my backpack. Bryce’s gaze doesn’t leave my face. I tuck the spray in the pocket of my hoodie and zip up my backpack.
“Where are you going?”
“None of your damn business.” I heft the backpack over both shoulders and jam my hands back into my pockets.
As I brush past him, he wraps his hand around my bicep, jerking me backwards.
Panic explodes inside of me. His painful grip keeps me rooted in place, even though every part of my body is begging me to run.
“Get off me.” My words come out a hell of a lot calmer than my jack-rabbiting heart feels.
He squeezes my arm until I wince, then gives me a shake. “I’m not fucking around, Heidi.”
That’s it. With my free hand, I whip out the pepper spray and aim it at his face in one smooth motion. “Neither am I.”
“Oh fuck.” He removes his hand and backs up a few steps. “What are you, crazy? I’ll turn you in for carrying a weapon on campus.”
“Keep your hands to yourself,” I explain in an even voice. “I have a right to defend myself, Bryce.”
“Defend yourself?” He touches his chest in a poor-innocent-me gesture that would have me rolling my eyes if I wasn’t scared to take my gaze off him. “All I wanted to do is talk, you crazy bitch.”
“You haven’t seen crazy bitch yet.” Unwilling to take my eyes off him, I back up to the door slowly.
“We’re not finished with this,” he seethes.
My ass bumps into the metal handle. With shaky hands, I reach behind me and twist hard, flinging the door open.
“Well, that’s too bad for you,” I say over my shoulder. In a louder, firmer voice, I add, “I’m done.”
Nine
Heidi
My heart’s racing as I nope on out of the building and book it across campus to my car. When I’m finally locked safely inside, I grip the steering wheel and press my forehead against it, taking slow, deep breaths to calm myself.
“It’s okay. You did okay. You’re okay,” I whisper to myself over and over.
When my hands finally stop shaking, I start the car.
My gaze scans the parking lot and the campus in front of me.
There’s Bryce, storming across the lawn.
I slide down in my seat. Not that he appears to be searching for me. Maybe he made good on his threat and reported the pepper spray incident to campus security. I couldn’t give a fuck less.
Frozen in place, I watch him fling open the door of his diagonally-parked, sherbet-orange BMW. I only know it’s a BMW because he talks about his “beamer” as if it’s his girlfriend. Seriously, he calls it “tiger,” but with the black “racing stripes” on the hood and the ugly color, it looks more like a moldy orange Creamsicle.
Dripping with douchebaggery, he slams the door and revs his obnoxiously loud engine. Tires squeal and pebbles fly as he peels out of the parking space. The buzz of his exhaust climbs as he shifts gears, actually driving on the grass to bypass a line of cars waiting at the stop light to exit the campus.
Slowly, I shift into reverse and back out of my spot, thankful he’s gone.
My need to see Blake is strong, even though I can’t possibly tell him what happened. He’ll hunt Bryce down and kill him for sure.
And nothing really happened, right?
Maybe I overreacted?
Sure, Heidi.
Sometimes the biggest lies are the ones we tell ourselves.
Fooling myself won’t work. Bryce didn’t have good intentions. I’m proud of myself for standing up to him. On the other hand, I don’t want to be the kind of old lady who tattles to her biker husband every time someone pisses her off. With the possibility of taking over as Vice President, Blake has enough to worry about. He doesn’t need the added stress of some silly college drama nonsense.
My lips curve into a semi-evil smile as I picture the shock in Bryce’s eyes. The surprise of a girl standing up to him? If he takes it further and tries to get me into trouble, that’s when I’ll tell Blake and let him handle it.
Confident that’s the right choice, I make my way to the new and improved Furious Fitness. The more distance I put between the campus and me, the sillier the whole incident seems.
Pride glows in my chest as I turn into the parking lot. Blake’s worked hard since Wrath made him a partner in the gym. Business was slow for a while after the grand re-opening, but tonight, the parking lot is full. So full, I reconsider my visit.
But if Blake finds out I was this close and didn’t stop in, he’ll be upset, so I drive up and down the rows of parked cars until I find Blake’s bike and park next to it. Wrath spared no expense when rebuilding. The new gym is not only larger but modernized as well. I have to let myself in the back door by punching in a code.
“Look who it is,” Jake greets me with open arms and a friendly smile. “Murphy and I were talking about you earlier.”
I tip my head. “What was that conversation like?”
His lips curl into a devilish smile. “Well, it ended with the usual ball-busting. You here for a class?”
“No, I was nearby, and I just wanted to drop in and see him for a few minutes.”
He pats my shoulder and turns me in the direction of the main floor where Murphy’s probably supervising clients.
My breath catches. There he is. Not the sweet, gentle man who made me see stars earlier. Nope, this is Blake O'Callaghan, part owner of Furious Fitness, busy glaring at a couple of college-age bro-type guys. His frown and posture make him about as approachable as a growling polar bear. Can’t blame him, really. I recognize a few of those guys from school. Guess Blake has to put up with the jerks, too.
He drops the scowl when he spots me and strides over.
“What are you doing here, beautiful?” He pulls me in and gives me a quick kiss. In his arms, the turmoil clinging to me from my encounter with Bryce melts away.
“I was on my way home and wanted to see you.”
“I’m glad you did.” He lifts his chin in Jake’s direction. “Keep an eye on those assholes. They were offering ‘tips’ to some of the girls earlier. Making them uncomfortable. They should be leaving soon but I don’t want them harassing our clients while they’re here.”
Jake cracks his knuckles an
d nods. “No problem, brother.”
After Jake takes off, Blake hugs me tighter. “Really happy to see you.”
“Even though I saw you earlier?”
“Never get enough.” He takes my hand and leads me back the way I came. “You know that.”
It’s a cool evening with enough of a breeze to keep the bugs away. We drop down onto one of the picnic benches behind the building. Blake reaches across the table to take my hands.
“I should’ve brought you dinner or something.” Now that I’m here, I’m anxious for some reason. The thing with Bryce rattled me more than I want to admit.
“I ate earlier. Wrath was finishing a forty-eight hour fast, so he bought dinner for everyone.”
“Impressive.”
“How was school? Get some work done on your project?”
My mouth goes dry, and I glance away. “A little.” Not only do I not want to discuss my confrontation with stupid Bryce, I don’t want to let Blake know that I’m dancing on the edge of not graduating on time, again, if this project isn’t completed. Not after everything he’s done to be so supportive. I’m still hopeful Dawn and I can get the work done on time.
“What’s wrong? You look upset?”
“Just feeling overwhelmed.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
More guilt thumps me in the chest. “You already do enough for me,” I whisper.
Behind us the door squeaks and slams shut. Blake glances up. “You need me?”
Jake answers, “Nah, you’re fine. Just wanted some air.” He lets out a yawn and stretches as he approaches our table.
“Air. Right,” Blake grumbles. “I thought I asked you to keep an eye on those guys?”
Jake jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “They just left.”
A few seconds later, a shiny red Jeep Renegade glides into the parking lot, pulling into a spot not too far from my car.
I recognize Aubrey’s tiny stature and wave to her. Her sister, Celia, steps out next.
Jake takes a few steps toward them.
“Jesus Christ, really, bro?” Murphy says under his breath.
“Celia, you’re looking lovely as always,” Jake says.
White Lies Page 6
