by A. M. Myers
Rolling her eyes, she opens her door and climbs out of the car before leaning down and meeting my stare. “Don’t think that just because I kiss you now that you can tell me what to do. I’ll still tase you.”
I laugh. “Noted.”
“Text me when you’re on your way back.”
I nod and she winks at me before shutting the door and walking away from the car. My gaze is glued to her as she walks up the front steps and I swear she’s putting a little extra swing in her hips to tease me. When she glances over her shoulder and laughs, I know I was right. Once she’s safely inside her house, I pull away from the curb, my knee bouncing against the steering wheel as I drive to the clubhouse.
Based on all our previous conversations, I know Blaze isn’t going to want to tell me the truth but I’m not leaving until I get some answers. I care too much about Tate to settle for however much time I have until this thing blows up in my face. My mind drifts back to the note on Tate’s table and I scowl, gripping the steering wheel tighter. Something deep down in my gut is telling me that she’s in danger but unless Blaze is ready to divulge some details I don’t know how I’m supposed to protect her.
There are few bikes in the parking lot as I pull into the clubhouse and I park my car in my usual spot before jumping out and heading inside. Smith waves as I storm past him toward the stairs, eager to see what Streak has on this whole situation. His door is open as I approach the end of the hallway and he glances up when he hears me coming.
“Shut the door and sit down,” he instructs, pointing to the chair by his desk. I do as I’m told, shutting and locking the door before going to his desk.
“What do you have?”
He sighs and turns one of his three computer screens to face me. On the screen is the photo I sent him of the note next to a web search. “Okay, so the note in Tate’s house is a modern version of the original scene but it’s essentially the same except for one thing.”
“What?” I ask.
“Right here,” he starts, pointing to part of the note. “Where it says King’s daughter is wrong. The actual line is Jew’s daughter.”
“And you think this is a clue?”
He nods. “I do, but I couldn’t tell you what it means.”
“Yeah, you’re not the one who can give me answers,” I growl and his brow arches.
“Do I even want to know?”
I shake my head. “Did you see anything on the cameras? Like who dropped off the note?”
He presses a couple buttons before an image from the camera on the front porch of Tate’s house pops up. “This is the best I can get you. He kept his face hidden the whole time and he’s about as average as they get.”
“Shit,” I hiss before slapping his shoulder and standing up. “Thanks, man.”
“Yeah, you got it.”
As anger racks my body, I slip out of his office and go back downstairs before heading straight for Blaze’s office. I barge in without knocking and he glances up from the paperwork in front of him.
“You and I need to chat,” I growl, slamming the door shut and his eyes widen before he stands up and puffs out his chest.
“Boy, I don’t know who the hell you think you are but you will not talk to me like that.”
I shake my head. “I’m done playing your games. I want to know why I’m watching Tate and I want to know now.”
“No,” he snaps, turning away from me and I lose it, grabbing a pencil off his desk and chucking it at the wall. Instead of falling to the floor, it sticks in the wood and he turns to me with wide eyes.
“Why do you have me watching her?”
His gaze narrows and the office is silent as he studies me for a moment before his eyes widen.
“Oh, fuck.” He collapses in his chair and blows out a breath. “You fucking fell in love with her, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, and? What does that matter now?”
Bewildered, he stares at his desk for a moment before sighing. “Nope. I’m taking you off this. I’ll get Storm or Chance to watch over her from now on.”
Rage bubbles up inside me and I slam my fist down on the desk. No one is taking me away from my girl. “No, you will not. You started this and I’m going to finish it.”
“I’m your president!”
“I don’t give a shit. She’s mine now. You hear me?”
With wide eyes, he nods because he knows what this means. I’ve officially claimed her with the club and she’s mine. No man can come between that, not even Blaze.
“Sit down, son. If you’re going to be with her, there are some things you need to know.”
Chapter Thirteen
Tatum
Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked by Cage the Elephant blares through the speakers in the living room as I dance around the kitchen in a tank top and boy shorts, getting ready to make popcorn. I wiggle my hips as I pour the kernels in a stockpot, add in a little oil, and cover it with a lid. Once the stove is on, I dance over to the cupboard and grab a couple glasses and the pitcher of sweet tea out of the fridge, setting both on the counter as I go back to the stove and grab the handles on the pot, giving it a good shake. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much but I can’t help it. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy and as strange as it feels, it’s also amazing.
Once the popcorn is done popping, I pour it into a bowl and dance over to the couch. Lincoln should be back soon and I have Road House cued up on the TV. The last time he was over, we spent the whole day watching my favorite movies so it only seems fair that we watch his this time. Glancing down at my bare legs, I wonder if I should put some pants on before grinning. I may not be ready to have sex with him yet but that doesn’t mean I can’t tease. Besides, I’m not opposed to hitting third base to take the edge off for both of us. My phone buzzes from the couch and I walk around to the front, setting the popcorn down on the coffee table so I can grab it.
Lincoln:
Sorry, babe. Shit’s running long and
I’m not going to make it over tonight.
I toss the phone down on the couch with a frown just as it lights up with another text. Sighing, I grab it again.
Lincoln:
Rain check?
Staring at his message, an idea hits me and I smile as I tap my camera app and hold the phone above me, snapping a photo of my body.
Me:
Fine but just know that this is what you’re missing.
Me:
Also, I’ll be watching Road House all by myself.
A few seconds after I press send, my phone rings and Lincoln’s picture pops up on the screen as I laugh.
“Yes?” I answer, still giggling as I turn the music off.
“Are you seriously going to watch Road House half naked?”
I fall back onto the couch and cross my legs in front of me. “I really am. Shame you’re missing it.”
“Fuck, babe,” he groans and I can just imagine him running his hand over his face in frustration – something he does quite often around me. “Just thinking about that is making me hard.”
“That sucks since I was considering letting you get to third base tonight, too.”
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “You can’t say shit like that to me when I’m in a clubhouse full of guys.”
“Well, you should have come over.”
He sighs on the other end of the line and an ache forms in my chest. He only left a few hours ago and I already miss him like crazy.
“If I could get away, I would, babe.”
“I know. I’ll let you get back to whatever you’re doing. Just call me tomorrow, okay?”
“Count on it.”
We say good-bye and when I hang up, I sigh and toss the phone next to me on the couch. Never in my life did I think I would be one of those clingy girls but I can’t help it with him. When it comes to him, I’m greedy as hell.
Glancing down at my new tattoo, I run my fingers gently over the raised ink and smile as I remember the drive back to the
house. I can’t remember the last time I was that silly around someone and it felt good to just let go. Lincoln makes me feel safe and I wasn’t scanning the street, searching for signs of danger or running through defensive moves in my head. Besides Theo, he may be the only person I can just be myself with.
Lincoln is my escape, my safe place to land and it concerns me how quickly I’m falling for him. It’s like as soon as I let down my guard, he rushed in and stole my heart right out from under my nose and it makes me wonder if I could have been happy long before now. If I had just let someone in, given them a chance, would things have turned out different? Shaking my head, I realize I don’t want things to change because I think, maybe, Lincoln is the prize for all the years of waiting for the right man to come along.
The house phone rings and I glance over my shoulder before standing up and walking around the couch to grab it off the table, Theo’s number flashes on the screen and I smile.
“Hey, little brother,” I answer, biting back a smile and I’m greeted with a growl.
“Tatum, don’t start shit with me when I’m nine hundred miles away.”
I laugh, walking around the couch and sinking into it. “What are you going to do about it, Theodore?”
“I’ll take time off just to come down there and kick your ass,” he taunts and I throw my head back and laugh.
“Do it. We should have a sparring match like we used to and this time I won’t be afraid to hurt your fragile little face.”
“You’re such a goddamn pain in the ass,” he mutters and I giggle.
“Whatever. You love me. What are you up to?”
“I just got off work. What are you up to?”
“Nothing, really. Just getting ready to watch a movie.”
“Fun. Oh, hey, do you have any idea why my forearm was burning today? It feels like I got a sunburn but there’s nothing on my skin.”
“Shut up.” I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re such a liar.”
We may be able to communicate differently than other people but there’s no way in hell he felt me getting my tattoo today.
“Yeah, you’re right. Lincoln sent me a photo of you getting it done.”
I jerk up, blinking. “Wait a minute. What do you mean Lincoln sent it to you?”
“He texted it to me,” he says like that somehow explains everything when it literally explains nothing.
“You guys are texting?”
“Yeah. I got his number after you told me about him and I gave him the brother talk.”
Groaning, I drop my head into my hands. “No, you did not.”
“Yes.” He laughs. “I did. Don’t worry; he was cool about it.”
“I’m going to block you on his phone the next time I see him,” I warn and he laughs again.
“Don’t do that. Besides, I didn’t get to do the whole brother thing very much lately. Not since high school.”
“Did you feel like it was one of the big things missing from your life?”
“Maybe I did.”
Sighing, I lean back into the couch. “Well, I’m glad I could help your dreams come true.”
“Don’t be a smartass.” He laughs but it quickly turns into a yawn. “So, what did you permanently mark your body with?”
“T squared,” I answer.
“Aw, you got a tattoo for me?” he teases and I wrinkle my nose up.
“Keep it up and I’ll get it covered up with a donkey for you,” I warn and silence greets me.
“A donkey? Why?”
“Smartass… duh.”
He yawns again. “Oh, you’re so funny.”
“Hey, go get some sleep and call me tomorrow, okay?”
He mumbles something before saying, “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Send me a picture of your new tattoo, okay?”
“I will,” I promise before saying good-bye to him. Once he hangs up, I toss the house phone next to my cell and sigh as I grab the remote and start the movie. Grabbing the bowl of popcorn off the coffee table, I settle into the couch and pop a kernel in my mouth when the phone rings again. Rolling my eyes, I grab it and press it to my ear.
“What did you forget, Theo?”
“Taaaaatuuuum,” a creepy, high-pitched voice sings on the other end of the line and my stomach sinks like a rock as a chill races down my spine. I sit forward, spilling popcorn on the carpet as I toss the bowl to the coffee table. “Are you there, Taaate?”
The voice sounds like something straight out of every horror movie I’ve ever watched and my hand trembles as I press my fingers to my lips, trying not to cry. My gaze flicks to every window in the living room and the sensation that I’m being watched intensifies.
“Who is this?” I ask, my voice shakier than I would like.
“Walls have ears,” the voice coos and my chest aches as my heart races in my ears. “Doors have eyes… Trees have voices.”
“Who the fuck is this?” I cry, standing up and scanning each window again.
“Beasts tell lies. Beware the rain. Beware the snow. Beware the man you think you know.”
“Who is this?” I roar, anger replacing some of my immediate fear but the only response is the hollow, high-pitched laughter that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Chapter Fourteen
Tatum
Sighing, I drop my keys onto the entry table and lock the front door behind me, the sensation of being watched still following me around from last night. I wasn’t able to shake it all morning at work and it’s even worse now that I’m back here. I do a quick scan of the room and once I’m sure that everything is exactly how I left it, I’m able to breathe a little easier. As I walk into the kitchen, the phone rings and I jump, my hands shaking as I grip the handle on the fridge and wait for the answering machine to pick up. I let out a breath when it does and Theo’s voice fills the line.
“Hey, T. I was just calling to check in. Call me back later, okay?”
He hangs up and I open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water before I retreat to Mom’s room and slip into the closet. Once I enter the code and the hidden door swings open, I rush inside and shut it behind me as relief crashes over me. I glance over at the pillow and blanket on the couch where I slept last night and sigh before going over to the desk and wiggling the mouse to wake up the computer.
I feel like the last twelve hours have taken years off my life and I’m eager to do a little research on the quote my mystery caller said to me last night. I type it into the search engine and wait as results pop up on the screen. After a few clicks, I find a book called Incarceron by Catherine Fisher that the quote is from. From what I can tell, the book itself doesn’t have any relevance to me or the caller. The more I read, the more I think that it just had to do with that specific quote which opens up a whole other lists of questions.
Beware the man you think you know.
How many men in my life does this apply to? Right now, the possibilities are endless or maybe this is all just a sick game. Maybe the quote was meant to throw me off my game and it means nothing at all. Blowing out a breath, I scrub my hand over my face and lean back in the office chair. I’m not ruling out anyone at this point. My mind drifts back to my shift this morning and the chill that rushed over me when Reed walked in with a few friends and sat down. Thankfully, he wasn’t in my section but I could feel his eyes on me the whole time. This seems too sophisticated for him, though. Then again, what do I know? Maybe under all that shit personality, he’s actually smart. It’s also entirely possible I don’t even know this person at all. With all the secrets that have been revealed since Mom’s death, I don’t have the slightest clue which direction to look in.
My phone buzzes on the desk and I sigh as I pick it up. Lincoln’s picture pops up on the screen and I smile.
“Hey you,” I answer.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” he replies and just the sound of his voice is enough to take away some of my stress. “You busy today?”
“Nope. I just got off work. Why?”
/>
“I’m cashing in my rain check. How soon can you be ready?”
I glance at the clock on the computer. “Two-ish. I need to take a shower since I literally just walked in the door.”
“Okay, you go get ready and I’ll be there in an hour.”
Once we hang up, I push out of the chair and leave the safe room, instantly feeling vulnerable again before I remind myself that I’m okay. The call last night really scared me but that doesn’t change who I am. If anyone decides to come after me, I am perfectly capable of defending myself. Not to mention the numerous guns hidden all over this house.
I’ve got this.
Feeling stronger, I jog upstairs and strip out of my uniform before slipping under the hot spray of the shower and closing my eyes. An image of Lincoln pops into my mind and I smile as I wonder what he’s got planned for us today. I was so upset when he didn’t come over last night but in hindsight, I’m glad he didn’t. If he’d heard that call, he would worry and I was certainly in no state to calm him down either. The more I think about it, the more I think that has to be another prank – like the heavy breathing. The horror movie voice, the weird poem, and the evil laugh – all of it is part of an elaborate mind game and I refuse to play anymore.
With renewed resolve, I rush through the rest of my shower and get dressed before scribbling a note to remember to change the house number. I smirk. He can’t call if he doesn’t know the damn number.
“Shit,” I mutter, glancing up at the clock. I only have twenty minutes until Lincoln gets here and I need to dry my hair and put on makeup. Turning on the radio, Your Song by Rita Ora spills out of the speaker and I dance back into the bathroom and grab my hair dryer, losing myself in the music and the task at hand.
When I’m ready, I take one last look in the mirror before grabbing the remote, switching the music off and heading downstairs. As soon as my foot hits the bottom step, someone knocks on the door and I glance up, grinning when I see Lincoln on the other side.
