Katy and I freeze, looking back and forth in the thick darkness while trying to see who is yelling. I tense, ready to run, but Katy squats down, trying to hide in the shadows. I can't leave her behind so we wait until a second later a big hulking man steps out from the porch, a gun pointed in front of him, moving back and forth between our two heads.He smiles, but it isn't in an evil I-want-to-shoot-you-and-bury-you in-the-front-yard smile. It almost looks as if he's laughing at us. He's caught two teenagers out having a night of fun rather than two criminals gathering evidence."Katy, what are you doing here?" the big guy asks."Nothing."A second voice comes from nowhere until I lean ahead and spot a tall skinny man standing on the end of the wraparound porch. "Bring them inside, Jock."The beast of a man flips his gun in that direction, using it as a big flashing sign. "Mr. Zanetti would like to invite you two to dinner."Katy steps away from the house but makes no move
It's a question I'd like the answer to also, except I'm not sure I understand what the two of them are talking about at the particular moment. Katy said she thought Frankie could be connected to the recent string of drug-related crimes happening in Pelican Bay, but Crispin didn't mention his name. One would think if a man was running a drug ring in the city, he wouldn't be so open about it. Frankie reminds me of someone who came from money. Maybe he inherited a large shipping fortune and was not a mob boss.Although, it's possible that makes him the best at it. Nobody expects him. Except Katy and most of her friends. Is he a dangerous guy like everyone thinks or a red herring so people look the other way?Is Frankie the crime boss, criminal grunt, or not a criminal at all? In that moment, I'm as invested in the case as Katy. I stare at Frankie's dark brown eyes, trying to see past them into his makeup. I struggle to see the genuine nature of his soul, but there's nothing there but
The atmosphere in the room turns serious and I realize I'm metaphorically standing at a crossroads. I can lie, even though it seems as if Crispin already knows the truth, or I can be honest and face the consequences of our actions. First, I consider blaming it on Katy, but in reality, even though I may not have known all of her plan, I still went along with it.With a deep breath and a heavy sigh, I let the contents of the evening out in one big, long run-on sentence. "Katy came and picked me up, we dressed in all black, and then we snuck around to Frankie's house, but he caught us outside the second window before Katy could see anything good." I take a breath and keep going. "And then he invited us inside and his maid — or cook, he never said — made us the most amazing spaghetti with chicken and cheese all cooked together. Delicious. I would have loved the recipe but didn't want to ask."I suck in another large breath, two of them this time, getting ready to finish the story. "And
"It's the master bath," I yell as he walks down the hallway. My words have him changing direction and he continues on to my brother's room like he's been here a hundred times before and lets himself into the bathroom. Tucked in the corner is the shower sprayer I've been too scared to look at the last two days.Crispin wastes no time getting into the shower and inspecting the head. He takes off his shoes and steps in leaving them on the little rug with his socks. He closes the shower door and then turns on the spray, letting the water hit the wall and eyeing the leak where large rivers of water flow from the base of the shower head."Hmmm," he says, washing his hands in the water's spray. "You just unscrewed it a little. With the water off, he twists the head in the opposite direction."You think you'll be able to fix it?" I ask when he steps back, looking at the shower head like it's finished even though he didn't test it.He looks to me and steps out of the way, bracing himsel
"You seem much more prepared for today's run," I shout across the road as Crispin jogs to my side of the street. "You look hot."His black running pants are skin tight, cupping his ass the perfect amount. The light blue running shirt clings to his chest, accenting his pecks."Don't give me crap now. We haven't even started running yet.""No, I mean it. Your outfit does you justice." I lazily trail my eyes up and down his body, making sure I get a long gaze, and then lean to the side to see from a fresh angle. I must keep the image for easy recall later.Crispin chuckles, finally catching on to what I'm saying. "I say, Miss Donovan, are you objectifying me?""Maybe."Crispin breaks out into a bigger grin. "I like it."I set my attention to fiddling with my watch, starting the run app so I can time how far we go. Halfway through the process, Crispin bends over and I lean back, checking out his ass one more time. Still amazing. I wasn't lying when I said he looked hot. Skint
Thank the heavens above, my phone beeps letting me know it's time for a cool down, and even though I want to roll over and die in the random person's grass next to us I refuse. Half a mile cooldown I can do. My steps slow, faster than normal for a regular cooldown, but these are desperate times."When your phone went off, it flashed a picture of a dog." Crispin taps on my phone reminding me of our conversation, which I'd forgotten in my excitement over surviving. Why did I pick running? Oh right, the health benefits even though I almost die every time.With my breathing coming back to regular, I undo the Velcro strap on the armband and slip my phone from the top. With another silent prayer to God as a thank you for fingerprint unlocking, I check my messages and find three from my ex Ben.The jerk.He's taken Hush, my damn dog, to one of our favorite cafes where they allow dogs on leashes as long as you sit outside on the patio. Hush sits in the chair across from him with a dog
When you run at night, it's still humid and you have all day to think about your stupid decisions. To talk yourself out of the run and remind your brain how awful exercise is. That means by the time I've taken the first step off the front porch I'm already miserable. Night runs are the worst.Especially when I had such an amazing day. After being in Pelican Bay for two months, I feel as if I'm settling in. And it's all thanks to Crispin. If not for him I never would have met the ladies who work at the bakery. I wouldn't spend my entire day set up in the shop gossiping about Tabitha's upcoming wedding or learning words of wisdom from Pearl as she sips away at her herbal tea and munches on a chocolate cupcake. Her husband picked her up around noon before the lunch rush and then I got behind the counter and helped clean up, carrying cups and plates. I wiped down tables and swept the floor. It was fun to get out of the house and see other people, even for my self-declared hermit lifestyl
"Hey!" I scream, pounding my fist against the metal and making a ruckus. "Let me out!"The van picks up its pace and I struggle to stay up on my knees without being tossed around, even though I hit a wall each time we take a corner. My stomach rolls from being in the back of the empty van with nothing here except a roll of carpeting, the green indoor/outdoor stuff you use on porches and patios. I see no tools or anything to help me escape. They haven't even left me a gun from what I can tell as I search around in the dark, my hands coming back empty.The van stops much too soon as I haven't come up with an escape plan by the time they open the door again. My first thought to run is waylaid when Tank points a gun through the open door. If he was a savior, it would be a wonderful scene, the darkness broken through with the opening and the light highlighting his face with a halo behind him. But he's not here to save me and the scene is one of horror rather than grace."I'm not getti
ElliotFive years later"No, sweetie, we only get one puppy today." I squat getting on the same level as my daughter, Brandise.The round ball of fluff she squeezes onto with all her might so he doesn't run away licks her across the face and she giggles. "Daddy, they're twins just me and Bray. They have to stay together."My eyes flick back and forth between each dog. One held in the tight grip of Brandise and the other being sized up by my son. Their mother, Harley, a woman who took too long for me to figure she meant everything stands between the two of them with her lips pinched together not helping me in this situation. She's left me out in the cold on my own.The two puppy siblings look alike, but in my eyes every Yorkie looks the same. How can you tell them apart? The puppies my babies held both had a lighter colored face than Rocky, but other than that they were big puffballs of fur."Sweetie, Rocky only needs one brother," I try again hoping to talk sense into her.
Elliot's steps are slow but sure as I hold open the bakery door to let him get through the space. Once he's cleared the way, I stand beside him in case he needs me for support as he makes his way to the first table in the busy sitting section. You wouldn't expect a shoulder injury to cause issues walking, but with each movement his body makes, his shoulder sways with the force and his face grimaces.It's too soon for him to be up and moving, but I couldn't make him listen to reason.He finds his seat and plops in it heavily, the chair legs scraping on the tile. The people around us stop what they're doing and turn before a small round of applause starts from behind the bakery counter and then picks up including people from every space in the bakery. Elliot turns to the noise, catching everyone in their adoration, and scowls until the clapping fades."Cupcakes for everyone," Anessa says smiling from her spot at the counter. "Especially for our new hero."Elliot's scowl deepens.
Dominick releases a breath and sucks in another one as if preparing himself for this new life. "Are you positive? Because there are very eligible bachelors in my club. A brother could keep you safe."I don't argue with him that Elliot kept me safe. Well at least until he got shot, and no one can blame a man for that. He literally stuck his body in between me and a loaded weapon. How much more could he have done?Plus I could never live life in the club again. Now after experiencing life on my own. "Yeah, and then they'd cheat on me or go to prison."Dominick shakes his head. "My men aren't that way. They love hard and deep. I changed the club here, Harley. It's different from how we grew up in Colorado."There's honesty in his words, but it will never be enough to bring me back. "Elliot is mine."Dom shakes his head once, admitting defeat. "Fine. Onto topic two. I met your father," he says father accusatorily like I've been keeping something from him.Which, in a way, I hav
Without warning there's another harsh pop in the air like someone shooting off a firecracker, and then red blossoms in the middle of Pete's forehead. His body falls back hitting the ground once again. The thud is too far away to hear, but I swear my body feels the vibration.Holy fuck.My ears ring from the gunfire as men pool around us each of them yelling things back and forth. It's coordinated chaos. An ambulance with its lights flashing speeds over the highway."That man took three bullets to the chest," Huxley mutters to himself shaking his head. "I haven't seen anything that crazy since Thailand."... The steady beat of Elliot's hospital machines lulls me into a restless sleep as my head rests on Elliot's hand."Harley," a deep voice whispers in my ear, shaking my shoulder. "Har."In a start my head pops up and my eyes search Elliot's face, but his hand still rests underneath my head, a pool of my drool sticking between his fingers."Still drool, huh? I wouldn't
"Dominick won't pay anything for me," I lie.Pete laughs. "Don't want money. I'm looking to trade you for a free get-out-of-town card. If he won't offer me his protection, you'll be a going away gift to my men. They're upset with having to leave. I'm sure you understand.""What?" Fear causes me to choke out the word as a hundred images flash through my brain of what he could mean, but only one is sick and depraved enough for this man.He smirks. "They'll love you if the Impaler doesn't."I fall to my knees against the back of his seat. "No, please don't." I'd rather he shoot me now than do what his smile promises. He means I'm to be a sexual gift given to his men and passed between them. I'd never survive. Sure, Dom trained me in basic self-defense skills, but my mother sheltered me from club life so I only heard the evils of the world through others. Until now, I never once felt concern for my safety. Not the way I do now.The cargo van travels on the highway, passing a bill
"Stand up, Fucker."Elliot scoots away from me as I claw deftly on his leg trying to hold on and keep him close. He turns, not making any sudden movements and puts his body in front of mine to shield me once again from the nasties of life."Let's not do anything drastic, Pete." Elliot takes a step forward with his hand held out defensively.I twist seeing the old man wearing a pair of board shorts, a blue Hawaiian shirt with palm trees, and flip-flops on his feet standing in the middle of the beach. He resembles a tourist who belongs in Florida not a man running a drug ring in Pelican Bay. He sneers at me taking the tension from Elliot for just a moment and waving the gun in his direction as if either of us could forget it's there."She's the only one who can name me. Without her I can pick up shop and start somewhere fresh and there's nothing you can do about it. You guys don't have shit on me.""You're standing in the middle of a public beach during the day, Pete," Elliot t
He flinches as of my question has hurt him, but I'm the child who didn't have a father. "I got out early for good behavior and I looked up your mother. I learned what happened. Sorry about your loss," he says. The words are stagnant as if he knows what he's supposed to say but struggles with the meaning. Yet, something in the inflection makes me believe he means each one. His eyes turn soft, possibly remembering his time with my mother.My life has never been cupcakes and cookies, but the last month has been indescribable except for the word surreal. First, I had no father, then I picked up a club president for a stepdad, lost him, and now gained back the original. What is happening to my life?"What will happen now?"My father shakes his head and stares at me with a touch of a smile tweaking his lips. "I'm out of the club life. Plan to take the straight and narrow from here on out."I hold back the cringe at his promise. It's one I've heard from club brothers my entire life. E
Elliot shakes his head, his fingers curving around the handle of his gun. His face pinches together as if he has so much to say, but is staying silent for me.Until he doesn't anymore."Would someone mind telling me what the fuck is going on?"He's not the only one looking for answers. "Me too. Mom said you died in a motorcycle crash. Drove your bike over a mountain ledge one night." She hadn't said he'd been drinking, but I've filled in the blanks for myself as I aged.My father's teeth come together hard making a gnashing sound I hear even from my position. "Yeah well. She thought it would be better than the true story. Easier for both of you to move on rather than wait around on me living only a half-life.""Then what is the true story?" After my mom left Dominick's dad, it was the three of us together. I always believed we never hid any secrets from one another.My father shakes his head and stares at me but looks past me as if he's reliving the memories himself. "She s
My gaze and thoughts flip to the back door, but I'm too far away to reach it before he could shoot me.The man is younger than Pete and not the person I saw put a bullet in someone earlier this month, but he's old enough to be my father. His skin is leathered and wrinkled as if he's spent a lifetime in the sun. His jeans are loose and a leather jacket lacking any MC cut is wrapped around his body. Not a Bloodhound.I stand next to the kitchen island breathing heavily while trying to come up with an escape plan as the two of us stare at one another unmoving.He speaks first. "Now, Harley, is this any way to greet the old man who named you?"His words scatter in my brain, startling me into paying attention, all my plans of escape lost. "Excuse me? My father named me."It was one of the few stories I had of the man who shared such a brief relationship with my mother. "He wanted to pay homage to the best...""Damn motorcycle company the US has ever seen," he finishes my sentenc