CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Starlet
Love isn’t supposed to hurt, it’s supposed to heal all wounds, right? Not with Brick—not even when I’m sheltered in his arms after making love for two hours, drenched in his masculine scent, and so exhausted I can’t stand up. No matter how close I come to falling asleep, the reality of tomorrow, the burden of knowing where I’m going cracks me in the face like a fist.
And then there’s Juanita…
Feeling guilty for not finding the time to call her, I reluctantly peel myself out of Brick’s embrace and search for my purse in the dim light. I check underneath the sofa which is a pull-out bed. Then I spot it on the floor by the front door. How did it get over there?
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“I need to talk to Juanita.”
He rolls onto his side and looks at me. “Haven’t told her yet?”
I shake my head, nervous about it.
“She’ll understand.”
“No, she won’t. She’ll tell me to fight, to tell you and the Crusaders to fuck off.”
“Is that what you want to do, Starlet?”
“Honestly? Yes.”
He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, looking conflicted. “I’m a heavy sleeper.”
“Why don’t I believe that?” Is he giving me a hint, a way out of this mess?
“I can be.”
“B-but you’d get into trouble, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m a big boy, Starlet. Wouldn’t be the first time I pissed off a prez and decided to head to another state.”
“But you just got here. And I thought you were up for a VP patch.”
“I am.”
“Doesn’t that mean something to you? Aren’t you tired of wandering across the country without a place to call home? I get the whole nomad thing—it’s sexy in a way. But a man needs to set down roots sooner or later. You’re thirtyish, right?” Funny, I’ve never asked his age. Growing up in an MC teaches you to keep your mouth shut and not get too personal with people. If someone wants you to know something, it’ll come up eventually.
“–Ish,” he says.
I throw him a crooked smile.
“Twenty-nine.”
“Just a baby.”
“Older than you,” he brags.
Technically maybe, but inside, where my heart is set deep in my chest, I feel haggard—used up and spit out. Age is a state of mind. “I’m going to step outside and call Juanita.”
He nods, and I gather my clothes and get dressed before I open the door.
My best friend answers on the second ring. “Dear God,” she says. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Sorry.”
“Is it over?” she asks quietly.
“Yes.”
A moment of silence passes between us. “The bastards voted against you staying in Shreveport.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Are you okay?”
“Not really.” Tears sting my eyes.
“Where are you, Starlet? Let me come get you. I have enough money saved to set you up somewhere else. You can pay me back over time.”
Though I appreciate her offer more than anything … I can’t do it. “Running away isn’t the answer.”
“Going back to that hell hole isn’t the answer, either.”
“I called Silver.”
“What?”
“Checkers gave me forty-eight hours to get back to Alabama or else.”
“Or else, what?”
“I don’t know, the conversation never went that far. But I’m sure it involved a serious beat down.” The less she knows, the better. I want Juanita to have a happy life—a safe one.
“Jesus Christ,” she growls. “I’m sick of this—devastated that I’m going to lose you after only having you around for a few weeks. I had big plans for us.”
I swipe the tears off my face. The hole in my heart just got wider and deeper. “I know.”
“Turns out Joe has a hot cousin.”
I laugh so hard I start coughing. “Now you tell me.”
“He owns a restaurant in New Orleans. Thirty-six, no kids, never married… The kind of man I want you to be with. You had the courage to walk away from the compound before. Find the strength to never go back. Please.”
I start pacing then, up and down the porch stairs, across the lawn, and back again. What if I did blow everyone off and relocate to the big city? I could spend a lifetime getting lost in New Orleans with all the architecture and history. The tourists are starting to come back—I could make money reading cards. And the coast… Waking up every day to the smell of salt water and the mournful call of seagulls. It reminds me of back home in Holly Beach.
She clears her throat. “Seriously, Starlet. Let me help you.”
I’m so tempted. The beach always made me happy. Watching families enjoy the sunshine and build sandcastles made me smile. And the food… “There’s no way I’d let you get involved with the Crusaders again. Silver is unpredictable. Not sure what he’s capable of if anyone gets in his way. I’m a trophy. That’s been made clear.” I find a spot on the steps and sit, staring off in the darkness—watching the cloud of bugs that are just beyond the reach of the porch light. “Not sure what I did to deserve any of this. I wanted everything, though. Everything normal people have. At least a chance at getting it.”
I think about the day I left—the happiness I felt driving away from Alabama. Nothing compares to it. Maybe the moment Juanita showed me my office in her shop. I had a place in the world, though small and insignificant, it was really mine. I draw a heavy breath.
“What is it?” my best friend asks.
“Scattered thoughts, really. Appreciation for what I almost pulled off.”
“Let me call the police, Starlet. Please.”
Every muscle in my body goes rigid. If the police show up, we’re both dead. “Snitches get stitches,” I remind her.
There’s another long pause.
“I don’t care,” she cries into the phone. “I don’t want Silver to win. I don’t want the Devil’s Crusaders to destroy your life. We’re sisters, Starlet.”
I cross my index finger over my middle finger, something we always did when we both lived at the compound and wanted to remind each other how tight we really were. No brother, beat down, or other situation ever divided us. And this separation won’t break us, either. A shadow falls over my heart thinking about where I’m going to end up. Back at the compound with double the security detail. No freedom, no rights, no friends… “Thank you, Juanita.”
“For what?” she asks, sounding broken.
“For giving me a sliver of hope. For loving me unconditionally. For taking a chance on me.”
She sniffles. “You’d do the same for me.”
“Always.”
I hear the door open behind me and I turn slightly on the stair. Brick is standing there in his underwear. “Getting late,” he says. “Time to come inside.”
I nod and hold my finger up asking for another minute. He considers it, then retreats back inside and closes the door.
“I’ve been summoned.”
“Tell him to go…”
“He’s one of the good guys,” I cut her off.
“How can you even say that?” she asks, the sadness in her voice replaced with fire and brimstone. “He’s the reason we’re having this conversation.”
“You expect a brother to betray his patch because he slept with me a few times?”
“Why are you defending him again? Oh my God, Starlet. Are you in love with him?”
Maybe a little. “No.” I swallow my disgust with myself for lying—hoping she can’t hear it in my voice.
“Starlet…”
“I have to go, Juanita. When it’s safe for me to contact you again, I will. I love you.” I disconnect before she has a chance to protest. I did this to myself. I chose to sleep with another biker. I played with fire and dared hope not to get burned. Well, I can feel the heat all around me now, like I’m being burned at the stake.
I stand, taking in lungfulls of fresh air, loving the silence and darkness. I don’t regret taking a chance. Like a short vacation, I tasted happiness—even discovered how passionate I can be. That’s priceless. At least when I’m lying on my back with my eyes closed while Silver is fucking me, I’ll have someone to think about—Brick.
He’ll fill my long nights with something warm and alive. I smile—there’s still hours before daylight, why am I outside wasting time when I should be with him right now? I reach for the door, intent on making love again.
* * *
Brick
Sitting on the couch with my head in my hands while Starlet finishes her call with Juanita, my father pops into my thoughts again. It’s like an endless movie playing out. Dad is out for blood this time. I shouldn’t have brought Charlotte home, it’s never safe. She’s hiding behind me, my father pushing his way deeper into my room…
“Don’t do it.” I square my shoulders, ready to protect my girl and myself.
My heart pounds at the angry scowl on his face, the stench of liquor on his breath. My father is stronger than most men, obsessed with working out. It’s the only way he can dominate me, threaten me with physical harm. I’ve stayed vigilant most of my life, learning to read his moods before I speak. There’s only so many bruises a boy can take, only so much blood I’m willing to shed. But it’s not just about me tonight. There’s Charlotte…
“I told you no whores in my house!” He’s less than a foot away from me now.
I’m standing at an angle, my girlfriend clinging to my left arm. “Get dressed, baby,” I call over my shoulder. I don’t want my father to see her half naked.
“Don’t move, Charlotte,” my father counters, “if you do, I’ll break his worthless neck.”
“Austin? Why is he doing this?”
“This is between you and me,” I say, holding my ground. “Let her go home.”
He chuckles. “Not before I get a quick peek at what you like to stick your dick in.”
My father lunges at me, his fist connecting with my face. It doesn’t hurt. I’m numb from the flood of adrenalin, blinded by rage. He wants to gawk at my girl like some kind of pedophile. Charlotte is only sixteen, and I’m seventeen.
I tackle him like a defensive end—straddling his chest and landing punch after punch. Blood sprays across my face as I hear a crunch when I hit his nose. “You’ll never touch me again, never fucking touch her…”
Charlotte screams and bolts from my bedroom. I freeze, my father motionless underneath me. I hear the front door slam shut. What have I done?
I feel Starlet sit next to me, even smell her sweet scent. But it’s not enough to bring me out of my dark trance.
I leave my father lying on the floor and chase after Charlotte. She’s several houses down the road before I catch up with her. “Charlotte?” I grab her from behind.
She’s out of breath. “Let go of me, Austin.” She struggles to break free.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I don’t understand why she’s running away from me.
When she figures out I’m not going to let her go without explanation, she settles down and looks at me, shivering in my arms. “I-I can’t deal with any of this right now.”
“Have I ever hurt you?”
“N-no.”
“My old man is a sonofabitch. I’m not him.”
“Please, Austin. I-I know he’s the one to blame for all of this. I’m sorry, really I am…”
My arms drop to my sides. I know what she’s going to say next. The violence is too much for her to handle. I’m volatile and dangerous. Her parents would never let her date me if they knew the truth about what goes on in my father’s house. How could I have ever invited her home with me… It’s an endless list of sins I’ve committed. All in the name of wanting her.
We stare at each other for a long time, neither one of us moving.
She finally sighs. “I care, Austin.”
I let her go without a fight, standing in the middle of street as she walks away. Out of my life forever.
As I drift back to the present, there’s movement beside me. Starlet is getting up. I don’t want her to go, so I take her hand and hold on tight. “Stay with me.”
“All right.”
She doesn’t question me or throw me a judgmental look, but curls her legs up on the couch and leans back, cradling my hand in hers. “Whatever it is, Brick, I can handle it. I’m a great listener.”
I gaze at her with wonder. How can she give a shit about me when her world is about to implode? “Jesus,” I say. “You should hate me, Starlet—not care about what’s on my mind.”
“Hate’s a big word, Brick. Disappointed, yes. Hurt—absolutely. But once I care…” She caresses my face. “You already know.”
Yeah, I do. That’s the problem.