Chapter 2
Brynn
“Damn it, Brynn. We did it this way for a reason,” my father yelled into the phone.
“And it’s been ten years, Dad. Ten years since all of that happened. You mean to tell me that gang is still fucking around after ten years?”
“Language.”
“Really? I learned it from you, Dad.”
“Never said I was perfect. But Brynn, I sent you to the best culinary school in the country. And you want to come back to Redding to open a damn restaurant?” he asked.
“I want to come home, Daddy. I miss my home.”
“It’s not safe for you here. You know this. I’ve given you plenty of damn money to go anywhere you could ever want.”
“I could put in some hours at the bar.”
“Hell no, you’re not,” he said. “I didn’t put you through tens of thousands of dollars of culinary school to fucking put you in a damn bar kitchen,” he said.
“Then I’ll open up my own place. Redding could use a little bit of the class and sass I’ve learned over the years.”
“Brynn--”
“Daddy, there’s something you’re not telling me. So, I need you to either unload it or accept this next step of my life.”
“This club went to a lot of trouble to fake your death and get you out of town. And so much has happened, Brynn.”
“Then try to give me a rundown. Otherwise, I’m coming home,” I said.
I heard my father sigh on the other end of the line and I knew it wasn’t good. Whatever was going on, it had kicked up dust for him. My father was the strongest man I knew. Took shit and gave shit and never asked for shit. I knew he didn’t approve, but I was coming home whether he wanted me to or not. It had been ten years. There was no way in hell--
“I think Rex is causing trouble with a fellow club,” my father said.
My blood froze in my veins at the sound of that name.
“So, he is still around,” I said.
“I’ll know more later on tonight. We haven’t heard much from him over the last couple of years, but I just got a call. I think he’s now begun terrorizing a fellow club and they need our help. You can’t come home right now, Brynn. It isn’t safe.”
“What fellow club?” I asked.
“Princess--”
My mind fell to Diesel, the boy I’d left behind in my father’s quest to keep me safe. Rex had terrorized Redding. Diesel and I’s hometown. We went to high school together. Had sort of a fling together. Well, it might’ve been a fling for him. But it sure as hell wasn’t for me. I gave my virginity to that boy. I gave myself over fully to his grasp and his kiss and his touch. I loved Diesel as much as a seventeen-year old girl could love a seventeen-year old boy.
“Daddy, I want to come home,” I said.
“You can’t. I forbid it.”
“No offense, but I’m twenty-seven years old. I’ve garnered as much experience in Los Angeles cooking as a sous chef as I’m going to get. I’m ready to open my own restaurant. I’ve saved up for it and have already been approved for a business loan.”
“You can go anywhere. Why the hell would you want to come back to Redding? Or anywhere near this place again? Why would you throw away everything I did to keep you safe?”
“Because there’s no place like home, Daddy. I hardly see you. I’m tired of surviving off phone calls and money dumped into my account. I want Christmases. I want to go tree hunting with you like we used to. I want to hang decorations and cook you a massive Thanksgiving dinner. Daddy, I want to celebrate my birthday with you again.”
“I have to keep you safe, princess,” he said.
“Then you’ll have to keep me safe in Redding, because I’m coming home,” I said.
“Didn’t you hear me? Rex is running around again. We’re about to meet up with Diesel and the--”
“What did you say?” I asked.
My father fell silent as my heart stopped in my chest.
“What. Did you just say?” I asked harshly.
“Brynn…”
“I’m getting on the first fucking flight home if you don’t tell me what the fuck--”
“Diesel’s the President of the Dead Souls now, Brynn.”
All of the breath rushed from my lungs as tears flooded my eyes.
“You don’t think--?”
“Brynn, this is all so convoluted, I doubt it has anything to do with the fling you and Diesel had in high school,” my father said. “But that doesn’t dismiss the fact that this is personal. All of it is. And the second you descend into fucking Redding airspace, I can’t promise I’m going to be able to protect you. There’s too much, and not enough at the same damn time with this.”
But the only thing my mind focused on was Diesel. Was he in trouble? Was he in over his head? Holy hell, he’d pledged with the Dead Souls?
He was President?
“I’m coming home,” I said with a whisper.
“Brynn, you can’t. I forbid it. Do you hear me? Brynn!?”
But I hung up the phone instead of answering my father. I sat down on the couch as my phone rang, time and time again before it constantly got shot to voice mail. I put my face in my hands as memories assaulted my brain. Visions of Diesel walking down the hallway, looming with that sharp swagger of his. He was tan and chiseled with muscle, even as a teenager. His thick head of dark brown hair and his brooding brown eyes that always held my gaze from across the room.
I was his before he even left his mark on me, and there wasn’t a night that went by that I didn’t dream of him.
I drew in a deep breath as tears filled my eyes. That was it. I was going home. I knew the risk I was taking. I knew there was a chance Rex would lash out the second he knew I wasn’t dead. Then again, there was a chance many of them would lash out once they figured out I wasn’t dead. But ever since my father faked my death, he had dedicated his entire world to keeping me safe. What started out as a just Rex attempting to get my attention, quickly turned into something much more dangerous.
He sent me love notes all the damn time while his stupid friends terrorized my father’s club. Love notes talking about how beautiful my flowing red hair was in the sunlight and how peaceful I looked when I slept. How he couldn’t wait to take me away from Redding. After that note, my father got more over protective.
The shootout that happened turned into something my father used. The Black Hornets helped my father fake my death, complete with a burial and a funeral. It protected me from Rex, gave them ammunition to go after his gang until all of them were chased out of town, and gave me the freedom to live my life without having to look over my shoulder all the fucking time. Though apparently chasing Rex out didn’t work so well.
Despite the threat of Rex still being there, I missed home. I missed the smell of Redding and the forest surrounding it. I missed the revving of motorcycles and the stale smell of the club’s bar. I missed seeing my father’s smile and feeling his arms wrapped around me.
Faking my death meant I hadn’t seen him in ten years.
I understood the risk I was taking, but what my father didn’t understand was that I could take care of myself. If I wasn’t in school or working, I was training in self-defense. Learning how to shoot a range of guns. Hell, I usually carried one on my hip and one at my ankle at all fucking times. I learned how to fight with a knife and how to spar in a ring. I took on karate and jiu-jitsu and kickboxing. Any form of fighting I could get my hands on to make myself feel safe again.
Despite all of the threats and all of the anger and all of the anxiety, I missed my home. I missed its sunrises and its sunsets. I missed its familiar sounds and its quiet evenings. I missed my father. I missed celebrating holidays with family. I missed the raucous laughter of the Black Hornets.
But most of all, I missed Diesel.
If I was lucky enough to run into him, I prayed he didn’t hate me for actually being alive.