Cole

 

Damn this girl! Why couldn’t she take a hint? No, it wasn’t even a hint. I had full-out told her to mind her own business. So what did she do? She followed me. It had been obvious, too. She wasn’t used to doing things like this, or else she’d be better at trailing a person without being noticed.

 

Still…even though I was pissed as hell that she wouldn’t just go away, I admired her a little. She had bigger balls than I thought. First, she came to the bar where she knew the club hung out, now this. Even after I did everything but flat-out threaten her life.

 

“Why can’t you let this go?” I asked Alena.

 

“Let what go?”

 

“Your sister.” I never had a family, so I had no idea how it felt to want to risk everything the way she was doing.

 

“You can’t be serious,” she said. The way she stared at me made me feel like a slug.

 

“I am. I don’t know why you won’t move on when I tell you there’s nothing I can do and you’ll probably get yourself in trouble. You just keep dredging up the same shit like you’re Sherlock Holmes or somebody. Why? What makes you think you’ll be able to find something the police didn’t?”

 

She was still giving me that hard, disgusted stare that made me want to tell her to stop looking at me. Finally, she said, “Have you ever had a sister?”

 

“No. No brother, either. I’ve been on own for most of my life.”

 

“Then you can’t possibly get it.” She stared out the window when she spoke. I knew she was in pain, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. So why was she bringing it to me?

 

“And you don’t get the kind of trouble you could be in if you don’t cut this shit out, now. You’ve never messed with the sort of people I’m around every day. If you followed one of them home, you’d be dead right now. Or getting fucked before they killed you.” She shivered. Good. I wanted her to. She had to be scared off. Nothing I’d said so far seemed to do it.

 

“What if it was one of your guys?” She looked at me, hard. “You know, like a member of the club. Wouldn’t you want to do whatever you could to get them back? Or at least find out what had happened to them?”

 

“I’d kill whoever hurt them to even the score. But this isn’t about me. And if that’s what you had in mind, you wouldn’t have shown up alone tonight, without a weapon. What got into you? What were you even thinking?”

 

“I’m desperate, like you said.” Alena leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes. God, she was beautiful. Maybe the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. It was more than being hot or sexy, even though she was those things, too. Her face was perfect.

 

“Desperation can get you killed.”

 

“So you keep telling me.” She sounded very tired. I wished she would be tired enough to go away and never come back.

 

“Because it’s true. I wish there were a way to get you to understand.”

 

“My heart won’t understand.” She sounded like she was trying not to cry. I hoped she wouldn’t get started. I could stand anything but that.

 

“Think with your head. If you only think with your heart, you get yourself hurt. That’s something I learned a long time ago.” Most parents taught their kids how to read and write, or how to tie their shoes or count to ten. My parents taught me what a waste of time love was. All love did was get people hurt. That was the big lesson I could thank them for. It had served me well, too. In my world, love was pointless. It got people killed. It made them overthink things, hesitate when they should make a move. Once you had a person you loved, you had to think about them and not about how to keep yourself safe.

 

She shook her head. “I know you have a point, but right now, I don’t believe it.”

 

“I can tell you don’t.” She was impossible to get through to. She was interesting, even though I wanted to scream when she talked in circles and wouldn’t listen to anything I said.

 

“I guess you and your sister were close, huh?” I didn’t know why I even asked that question. I wanted to know more about her, even though I knew it would lead me nowhere. The less I knew about her, the better. I couldn’t get too involved. It would only end up badly. But I couldn’t stop myself. She was something else, and I needed to understand the way she thought.

 

“More than close,” she whispered. “I pretty much raised her.”

 

“Really?” This little thing? Then again, she was strong and confident. And smart. She could probably handle anything.

 

“I was ten when she was born, and a few years later our father disappeared for good. He was never really around, anyway. Just when he needed something.” She shrugged.

 

“I know that feeling,” I said. My father was the same way. At least, I thought he was my father. I was never really sure. Mom didn’t keep records of all the men who came in and out of her bedroom.

 

“Our mom had to work two jobs to keep us secure. I give her credit for that, believe me. She did her best. But then, when she wasn’t working, she was at the bar. Trying to pick up guys, you know.” Another way our lives were the same. Sometimes my mom would be gone for days and come home like nothing happened. I had to take care of myself when I wasn’t tall enough to reach the kitchen cabinets without a chair.

 

She sighed. “So I took care of Sara. We did homework together, first mine—I told her she was helping me with it—then hers, too, once she started school. Then we would play games. I made dinner, gave her a bath, put her to bed.”

 

“And you were how old?”

 

She shrugged. “She was around six months old when I was first left alone with her.”

 

I was amazed. No wonder she wasn’t letting this go. She was practically the kid’s mother.

 

“And now she’s just…gone. I feel like part of me is gone. I don’t know what to do. Nobody will help me. It’s like I’m a ghost, just talking and talking and nobody listens. It’s a nightmare.”

 

“You haven’t heard anything from her at all?”

 

“Not for weeks. Not a word. She used to call me every day, ever since she moved into her own apartment. One day she just…didn’t call. And then the next day. By that time, I’d gone to the police. They weren’t too worried. And then…” She trailed off.

 

“And then?”

 

Alena looked nervous, now. “And then I mentioned your club.”

 

“Oh, thanks a lot.” I knew she would have. If she knew her sister was hooked up with one of our members, she would have mentioned it right away. Why not? We were a bunch of criminals. She jumped to the conclusion that we must have had something to do with it. I couldn’t blame her, even though it irked the hell out of me.

 

“I had to say something. The police needed to know everyone Sara had been spending time with, and I knew she’d been running around with one of your guys. And don’t tell me the club didn’t have something to do with it. I won’t believe it. My sister is a good, sweet girl. She’s smart, and she has a future ahead of her. She was never depressed, she never touched drugs and didn’t drink—as far as I knew, anyway. And if she started without me knowing about it, it was you who got her into it.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Not you in particular, but the club. How the hell she got hooked up with you, I’ll never know. God knows I tried to get her away…”

 

How did anyone get hooked up with us? That was a good question. They heard about us. A friend was involved. Or a friend of a friend, or a cousin. Somebody vouched for them. But I didn’t know how Sara found her way to us. I didn’t know her well enough.

 

There was something I had to know, but the way I asked would be important. “Did you…know who she was with? Like, was there a certain guy?”

 

She looked at me, blinking a few times. I didn’t want her to know I knew who Sara had been with. I got a feeling she didn’t believe me.

 

“I don’t know,” she said. “Sara would never tell me his name.”

 

I was relieved. I had that on my side, at least. If she knew it was Skull…well, Skull wasn’t a common name. The cops would go right for him. That would be the end of everything.

 

“I don’t think I ever saw her with anyone special,” I lied. “She just sort of hung around. And I never saw her do anything, like…bad.” I felt stupid saying it, but that much was true. “Like drugs or anything. You don’t have to worry about that.” I felt like I had to give her a little bit of peace. I didn’t know why I felt that way. I didn’t normally care if a person was happy or sad, upset, peaceful, or what. I took care of myself. But this girl…she seemed so honest and sincere. She didn’t have any secret agenda. She loved her sister enough to walk into a pretty threatening place and stare me down like it didn’t mean anything to her. She was like a mama bear. I had to give her a lot of credit for that.

 

“Thank you for telling me,” she said. She was shaking, and the tremble in her voice made her sound like a little girl.

 

I felt sorry for her. Before I could stop myself, I reached for her and touched her hand.

 

She looked surprised, but she didn’t push me away. Her skin was smooth and soft. When she turned her head to look at me again, I saw the tears in her eyes. She was just about to cry. I didn’t know what to do, so I did the first thing that came to mind. I took her face in my other hand and kissed her.

 

This kiss wasn’t the same as the first one. I wasn’t screwing with her now. I was gentler. And she didn’t try to push me away this time. After a few seconds of surprise, she leaned into me and started kissing me back. When I licked her lips with the tip of my tongue, she sighed and opened her mouth for me.

 

It wasn’t long before things heated up. I couldn’t keep my hands off that body, and she didn’t stop me. I ran a hand up her leg, to her thigh, then her ass. I groaned when I touched her, my dick getting hard immediately. I grabbed and squeezed her like I did at the bar, and this time she groaned instead of trying to act like she didn’t want me to.

 

She pressed herself into me, kissing me hard. Her lips were soft, like the rest of her. I took her bottom lip in my teeth and pulled, making her hiss. When I let go, she came at me even harder, like she was angry. I met her anger with mine. My dick grew, fighting my zipper. Trying to break out and get satisfaction.

 

I let go of her ass, grabbing her tits this time. They were big for her little body, but the way they felt in my hands told me they were real. She moaned louder the longer I played with her, breathing heavily into my mouth. I reached under her shirt, then under her bra. She felt so good. Her little moans told me she loved this as much as I did.

 

She moved, almost kneeling on her seat, almost on top of me. I knew she was getting hot, and when I slid my hand between her legs, she jumped like I shocked her. She pushed down against my hand and started rubbing off on it. She grunted and groaned, getting me even harder to where I was hurting. I slid my hand under her waistband, over her panties, rubbing her mound. She was insane, kissing me roughly, running her hands through my hair. I almost couldn’t take it. I thought about pulling her out of the car and into my house so I could fuck her senseless all night long.

 

Then, just as fast as things had heated up, they ended.

 

“No, stop. Please.” She pushed away, pressing herself up against the door. Like she wanted to get as far away from me as possible.

 

What the fuck happened? I only wanted to get her to stop crying, and the next thing I knew we were practically humping. I could still feel her under my hands. My dick was throbbing; my balls were screaming. How had she gotten to me so fast? For a minute, we just sat there, catching our breath. What had I been about to do?

 

“What’s wrong with you?” It was easier for me to turn it around and blame her. Really, I was blaming myself for getting so worked up over her.

 

“That shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry to lead you on.” She was whispering so softly I could barely hear her. I laughed a little. Leading me on? She had to be joking.

 

“Listen. I’m only gonna tell you this one more time.” I leaned in, wanting to scare her as much as I could. She pressed herself tighter against the door. “Stay out of shit that has nothing to do with you. Go home and stay there. Don’t let me see you again.” I got out of the car and made sure to slam the door as hard as I could to prove my point. I could break her in half if I wanted to.

 

At that moment, I was pissed off enough to do it, too. But I wasn’t mad at her. I was mad at myself for getting too wrapped up already. Her tears touched me. I felt sorry for her. I identified with her. That was the last thing I needed. I had to pull away and stay away. I only hoped she would listen to me and move on with her life.