Delaney pulled her hair to the side and braided it down her shoulder. Patch watched from the doorway, his gaze longing on her for as long as he could before it was time to go. They'd spent the day together, with Lucas and Joey, plotting their plan for the evening. Everything about the night made Patch uncomfortable. He never knew what the next day held, but he didn't like walking into the lion's den. He knew Gabriel was in on something bad, and it involved other people, but he didn't know who those people were. They could be cold, and heartless, put a bullet in his head without a second thought. Delaney's gaze shifted to Patch's in the mirror where she fixed her hair. Something about the day felt heavy, and cold, which made his stomach tie into a knot. "What are you thinking about over there?" she asked, turning to face him. "You look lost in thought." She wore a simple T-shirt, that showed the curve of her ample breasts, and a pair of jean shorts that highlighted the womanly
"I'll give Beth one thing. She picks the best snacks," Delaney said, tossing a bag of chocolate covered raisins and white chocolate popcorn at Joey on the couch. "Hmm. Yum," Joey said, opening the Zip-Lock bag. Delaney opened the cabinet where the wine normally was, and noticed it was empty. "No wine. Boo," she said, making her way toward the couch. "All of my lame teenage rom-coms are in my bedroom. Want to see how awesome I was in high school?" Joey laughed, and walked with her up the stairs. They passed Patch's room, and Joey jabbed her thumb across the hallway. "Guest room?" Delaney opened her room. "Sort of. Patch would stay there when he spent the night." "He didn't stay with Lucas?" Delaney sat down in front of her DVD case. "Well, he would stay over when his mother was strung out for weeks at a time. It was kind of his permanent room here." Joey plopped down beside her. "No wonder you have a thing for him," she said, shoving her shoulder into his. "Did you spy on him?"
"I don't know why you're freaking out right now," Lucas said, swerving onto the main highway taking them to his dad's house. "My dad is not behind this. You think he kidnapped my girlfriend, too? Come off it, Patch. That's ridiculous." Patch knew how it sounded to Lucas, how it sounded to himself. He didn't want to accuse Mr. Summers of anything. He'd taken him in on so many occasions, that he didn't want to think he'd be behind this. But Patch's gut told him to get back to Delaney. "Are you even listening?" Lucas said louder this time. Patch glanced over at him, and he looked worried—irate—but worried. Maybe worried Patch was right. "I’m listening," Patch said, shoving his fingers into his hair. "I maybe wrong, but I have a feeling." Lucas sighed heavily. "There is something that I need to tell you," he said. "What is it?" "Dad … he. Our mother didn't die in a car accident, Patch. Someone broke into our house when we were small, and … killed her. We told Delaney she died fr
Her entire body felt numb. A soul crushing numbness that began to eat at her insides, and travel through her veins like a virus, meant to kill her. My dad? Daddy? None of it made sense. How could her own dad be behind any of this? He’d taught her how to ride a bike, how to tie her shoe, and drive. His soft smile always put Delaney at ease. And to know that he was someone else’s fear. That he tortured Katy. He potentially killed Patch’s mother, and was behind The South Side? Why? Nothing made sense. She tried to put everything together, but nothing fit. It was a jigsaw puzzle with no matching pieces, that she didn’t know if it would ever come together. Her father’s eyes looked so lifeless when she stared into them. Tears coated her cheeks, and her bottom lip trembled. When Patch sprung into action, none of it registered. She stood like statue, waiting to wake up from her dream, but it didn’t happen. She didn’t even remember locking the door, or Gabriel getting arrested. It was
The shade of white on Delaney's face grew more pale by the second. Something traveled over her features, and realization settled there. She didn't even budge when the mug shattered to pieces at her feet. "What do you mean?" Patch asked after everyone became quiet. "You remember the mug? Couldn't it have come from your house--," She shook her head. "No. I vividly remember the mug and the cabin," she said, leaning against the island, she palmed her head in confusion. "I was around eight or so. We'd gone somewhere, and after dinner I was so sleepy, I fell asleep in the backseat. Dad must have thought I was out of it, and left me in the car while it was running," she whispered, her gaze traveling some place far off. "I stumbled out of the car, and into the cabin. I'd never been there before, it was old, and smelled like grandma's house. I remember feeling thirsty, so I poured myself a glass of water with a mug from the cabinet. I grabbed that mug," she said softly. "I yelled for Dad, an
The searing pain in Patch’s shoulder throbbed in sync with his heartbeat. He’d never been shot before, and he realized quickly he was glad for it. Delaney's voice wavered in and out of his hearing, her soft touches seemed light years away. Patch didn’t even realize the EMTs had arrived until they lugged him up and onto the gurney. They lifted him with a struggle up the spiral staircase as he heard the police reading Delaney's father his rights. He knew everything would be cleared now. The police had no choice but to drop their case against Patch and his mother. They figured it out. They knew who was behind the killings, and The South Side. Most likely other killings as well. Maybe they could settle solve other murders or mysteries now that he was caught. But Patch knew that the struggle wasn’t completely over. His best friend and his girlfriend just found out that their father was a murderer. A serial killer. A man they didn’t know him to be. The hurt in Delaney's voice and her
The sound of Delaney's car door slamming behind her, and peace the front seat of her car brought, made her smile. She'd spent most of the day studying in-between her grad school classes, before she needed to get home to whip up something for dinner. She'd spent the majority of the semester, trying her hardest to get the last few months out of her brain. Well, the bad parts of it at least. Those months brought her back into Patch Larson's sight. The mention of his name still gave her goosebumps. After his shoulder healed, and she made arrangement for grad school in Florida, they moved. Witout second thought, they gatered their things and moved. No more small town drama. No more of her father's problems, not that he hadn't tried to reach out by phone, and write Lucas wanting her to stop by. Maybe one day she could stop by, but at the moment, she didn't want to hear his lies or excuses. Having to go back for the trial would be enough for her. She hated that Patch had to relive a
“You’ve put on some love chub.”She hadn’t expected anymore from her older brother, Lucas. Eight years older than her but none the wiser. He’d looked the same since he graduated seventeen years before. His career in the military had only added to his good looks. Turns out girls really like big arms, tattoos and Marine cuts, who would have thought? Plus having a purple heart because you saved someone’s life really gets ‘em hot.Hence the nice farm house he lived in with four-wheelers and ATVs, on top of owning the small lumber store down town, he had done well for himself, which put a lot of pressure on her to do so, too.“Yep,” he said, picking her up a bit from the floor. “Definitely love chub.”“Wow, I feel so beautiful. Thank you for that.” Sadly, he wasn’t wrong per se. She had put on some weight in the last few years but it had turned int
The sound of Delaney's car door slamming behind her, and peace the front seat of her car brought, made her smile. She'd spent most of the day studying in-between her grad school classes, before she needed to get home to whip up something for dinner. She'd spent the majority of the semester, trying her hardest to get the last few months out of her brain. Well, the bad parts of it at least. Those months brought her back into Patch Larson's sight. The mention of his name still gave her goosebumps. After his shoulder healed, and she made arrangement for grad school in Florida, they moved. Witout second thought, they gatered their things and moved. No more small town drama. No more of her father's problems, not that he hadn't tried to reach out by phone, and write Lucas wanting her to stop by. Maybe one day she could stop by, but at the moment, she didn't want to hear his lies or excuses. Having to go back for the trial would be enough for her. She hated that Patch had to relive a
The searing pain in Patch’s shoulder throbbed in sync with his heartbeat. He’d never been shot before, and he realized quickly he was glad for it. Delaney's voice wavered in and out of his hearing, her soft touches seemed light years away. Patch didn’t even realize the EMTs had arrived until they lugged him up and onto the gurney. They lifted him with a struggle up the spiral staircase as he heard the police reading Delaney's father his rights. He knew everything would be cleared now. The police had no choice but to drop their case against Patch and his mother. They figured it out. They knew who was behind the killings, and The South Side. Most likely other killings as well. Maybe they could settle solve other murders or mysteries now that he was caught. But Patch knew that the struggle wasn’t completely over. His best friend and his girlfriend just found out that their father was a murderer. A serial killer. A man they didn’t know him to be. The hurt in Delaney's voice and her
The shade of white on Delaney's face grew more pale by the second. Something traveled over her features, and realization settled there. She didn't even budge when the mug shattered to pieces at her feet. "What do you mean?" Patch asked after everyone became quiet. "You remember the mug? Couldn't it have come from your house--," She shook her head. "No. I vividly remember the mug and the cabin," she said, leaning against the island, she palmed her head in confusion. "I was around eight or so. We'd gone somewhere, and after dinner I was so sleepy, I fell asleep in the backseat. Dad must have thought I was out of it, and left me in the car while it was running," she whispered, her gaze traveling some place far off. "I stumbled out of the car, and into the cabin. I'd never been there before, it was old, and smelled like grandma's house. I remember feeling thirsty, so I poured myself a glass of water with a mug from the cabinet. I grabbed that mug," she said softly. "I yelled for Dad, an
Her entire body felt numb. A soul crushing numbness that began to eat at her insides, and travel through her veins like a virus, meant to kill her. My dad? Daddy? None of it made sense. How could her own dad be behind any of this? He’d taught her how to ride a bike, how to tie her shoe, and drive. His soft smile always put Delaney at ease. And to know that he was someone else’s fear. That he tortured Katy. He potentially killed Patch’s mother, and was behind The South Side? Why? Nothing made sense. She tried to put everything together, but nothing fit. It was a jigsaw puzzle with no matching pieces, that she didn’t know if it would ever come together. Her father’s eyes looked so lifeless when she stared into them. Tears coated her cheeks, and her bottom lip trembled. When Patch sprung into action, none of it registered. She stood like statue, waiting to wake up from her dream, but it didn’t happen. She didn’t even remember locking the door, or Gabriel getting arrested. It was
"I don't know why you're freaking out right now," Lucas said, swerving onto the main highway taking them to his dad's house. "My dad is not behind this. You think he kidnapped my girlfriend, too? Come off it, Patch. That's ridiculous." Patch knew how it sounded to Lucas, how it sounded to himself. He didn't want to accuse Mr. Summers of anything. He'd taken him in on so many occasions, that he didn't want to think he'd be behind this. But Patch's gut told him to get back to Delaney. "Are you even listening?" Lucas said louder this time. Patch glanced over at him, and he looked worried—irate—but worried. Maybe worried Patch was right. "I’m listening," Patch said, shoving his fingers into his hair. "I maybe wrong, but I have a feeling." Lucas sighed heavily. "There is something that I need to tell you," he said. "What is it?" "Dad … he. Our mother didn't die in a car accident, Patch. Someone broke into our house when we were small, and … killed her. We told Delaney she died fr
"I'll give Beth one thing. She picks the best snacks," Delaney said, tossing a bag of chocolate covered raisins and white chocolate popcorn at Joey on the couch. "Hmm. Yum," Joey said, opening the Zip-Lock bag. Delaney opened the cabinet where the wine normally was, and noticed it was empty. "No wine. Boo," she said, making her way toward the couch. "All of my lame teenage rom-coms are in my bedroom. Want to see how awesome I was in high school?" Joey laughed, and walked with her up the stairs. They passed Patch's room, and Joey jabbed her thumb across the hallway. "Guest room?" Delaney opened her room. "Sort of. Patch would stay there when he spent the night." "He didn't stay with Lucas?" Delaney sat down in front of her DVD case. "Well, he would stay over when his mother was strung out for weeks at a time. It was kind of his permanent room here." Joey plopped down beside her. "No wonder you have a thing for him," she said, shoving her shoulder into his. "Did you spy on him?"
Delaney pulled her hair to the side and braided it down her shoulder. Patch watched from the doorway, his gaze longing on her for as long as he could before it was time to go. They'd spent the day together, with Lucas and Joey, plotting their plan for the evening. Everything about the night made Patch uncomfortable. He never knew what the next day held, but he didn't like walking into the lion's den. He knew Gabriel was in on something bad, and it involved other people, but he didn't know who those people were. They could be cold, and heartless, put a bullet in his head without a second thought. Delaney's gaze shifted to Patch's in the mirror where she fixed her hair. Something about the day felt heavy, and cold, which made his stomach tie into a knot. "What are you thinking about over there?" she asked, turning to face him. "You look lost in thought." She wore a simple T-shirt, that showed the curve of her ample breasts, and a pair of jean shorts that highlighted the womanly
Delaney washed the conditioner from her hair, and ran her fingers through the length. She'd left the boys to watch over Joey, because she couldn’t look at her any longer. When she arrived at Gabriel's house with Lucas, her nerves were all over the place, but nothing compared to the feeling she had of seeing her for the first time. Her eyes looked sunken in and black, her cheeks bruised and boney. She looked like a walking skeleton. Delaney would never get that ghostly look out of her head. Like a She finished her shower, drying her hair and the droplets off her skin. There were a million questions that needed to be answered. Who killed Patch's mom? Where was Katy? And how was this going to work out so that Patch and Delaney could be together. She didn't know, and it hurt her to not know. The bathroom door opened, and Patch walked inside, leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded over his body. He'd lost his shirt, and only wore a low-slung pair of pants. "You okay?"Delaney s
Patch pushed out the kickstand of his bike, and took a long look at the progress made on the clubhouse. The other member's bikes lined the place where the parking lot once sat, and the members stood in the foundation of the new clubhouse. Patch pulled out a cigarette, trying his best to calm his nerves before joining them. There was an energy in the air that he didn't like, and it made him check his phone again for a text or call from Lucas or Delaney. He felt better knowing that Lucas was with her, and that Joey would be safe soon enough. Daz stood in the middle of the group of members, smiling like a lunatic, and hyping everyone up. Patch didn't know what his agenda was, but he would find out soon enough. Patch: Text me when you get to the Airbnb. He shoved his phone into his jeans pocket, and walked up the wooden stairs and onto the platform of the new clubhouse. Some of the members he hadn't seen in over a month, or since the clubhouse was burned, and he didn't feel bad ab