On the way home, with Spencer and Jojo in Spencer’s pickup truck, I was informed that Rider, Deacon, and Edge had all been sent the video of Jet’s rape and murder. It was videotaped. All of it. The men in it, wearing masks.f

I didn’t allow that to permeate. I didn’t know if that played a role in him not calling me for two days, but I couldn’t let it get to me. I had to push it out of my head, not think about how horrible it would’ve been for them, particularly for Edge, to have seen that.

Spencer was more than informative about other stuff, too.

Deacon had a gut wound; he’d been stabbed by Ella’s Uncle Willie. A bunch of Wyld Jackals were in jail, including their second in command, for crack, meth, and weapons charges.

A couple Wyld Jackals had died. Details on how or by whose hand was not offered. I didn’t ask. Neither did Jojo.

Deacon and Ella had reportedly gone away for a few days for a getaway and were probably back by now.

Spence told us he’d wiped out on his bike during some Jackals drama and was still feeling a bit sore from it.

Apparently, Blow had even taken a bullet to the belly at some stage before Shelly was beat up, so he’d been sporting that injury that day at Rider’s mother’s house.

I’d missed a whole lot of drama. I still didn’t really understand where this rivalry had even started. I didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know. Even when it was happening all around me. Rider had been keeping me in the dark, majorly.

“They have shit on us, we have shit on them. So, we’re at a stalemate. We’re hoping for peace for a bit,” Spence said, but then added. “But, we’ll see. You girls be vigilant, you hear me?”

I was looking forward to being on the other side of this thing.

Jojo had asked why I was riding with them and Spencer had muttered that me and Rider had ‘had a fight’.

“You okay?” She looked over her shoulder at me in the back seat.

I nodded and looked out the window.

I didn’t say much. Spencer and Jojo picked over all sorts of details of the feud and about their mother the whole way home, talking about how the Valentine boys had done some sort of intervention with her, with even Spencer attending and trying to talk sense into her about her association with the Jackals and how she’d gotten hurt a couple days later. Rider hadn’t told me about that, either, and that was before we were apart, before we’d gone to the cabin for our overnight.

I began to tune them out, but I knew Jojo was coming to our town, staying a couple of days. They were starting at Ella’s house, and then possibly moving into a new place, then she’d be leaving in a few days to go to New York, where she was going to stay with a friend for a bit. She said she’d be taking a semester away from school to get her head together.

Deke was reportedly having their Sioux Falls house put up for sale after “That shit Shelly pulled” according to Spencer. I didn’t ask questions. Because, again, it all had nothing to do with me. Spencer told Jojo their dad was looking at two potential rental houses in my parents and Ella’s neighborhood so that they could grab something for now until figuring out their longer terms plans for living arrangements and a clubhouse.

When Spencer pulled in to the parking lot behind my salon, Jojo gave me a big smile, as we got out. I saw Bronto’s little car there.

“Can’t wait to see your place and your salon!”

“Salon’s closed,” I said. It was dark out, after eight o’clock. “But, come up and I’ll show you my apartment.”

Bronto had been assigned to me, Spencer informed me, saying that Pippa had let him in to wait.

Spencer, insisting on carrying my bags, had a look of concern on his face as we climbed the stairs.

“You’re real pissed at him, aren’t ya?” he asked, as we climbed the stairs.

“Nope. Just done,” I said, and kept walking.

“Done?” Spencer asked, looking angry.

“Shh,” I said, pointing at Jojo.

He looked strangely at me and then at his sister.

Jojo missed the exchange and was commenting about loving my terrace. I introduced her to Pippa, who grabbed me and gave me a huge hug. And then her eyes met mine and she winced. My heart must’ve been on my sleeve. I had to put it away.

Pippa tried to turn it into a hangout thing, offering to order Chinese food or pizza and wanting Spencer and Jojo to stay, but I made a face and Jojo caught it.

“Jenna probably needs a quiet night after all the excitement. And I need to get to see Dad and Deacon. I haven’t seen them in days and need to get all the news on where everything’s at, so… raincheck? Maybe I’ll pop in to the salon in the next day or two before I head to The Big Apple and you girls can make me pretty?”

“Like you need help,” I muttered.

Jojo beamed at me and then gave me a hug, whispering, “Thanks for becoming one of my best friends in a matter of a week. I’m sorry you and Ride are in a fight. I’ll see you before I go. Okay?”

I nodded, holding back tears. “You are so in my girl posse no matter what happened with him and me. Okay?”

“Happened? You guys are gonna be okay.” She gave me an alarmed look.

I shrugged. “I’m dying for a bubble bath so I’m just gonna…” I jerked my thumb toward my bedroom. “Thanks for the lift, Spencer.”

“Yeah, sure, Blue Eyes. Any time.” He ruffled my hair and headed toward the door. “Later, Sunshine,” he said to Pippa. She wrinkled her nose up at him and stuck out her tongue. He snickered, amber eyes sparkling mischievously, and left.

What was that about?

I watched him and Jojo go. Bronto was sitting on the couch and I saw Walter White and Jesse Pinkman frozen on my screen. Paused.

“You guys continued without me?” I accused.

“No,” Pip defended. “I fell asleep during the last one and a half and you two kept going, so we’re re-watching so I can catch up. We were gonna wait for you after that. Go get your bubble bath and then we’ll watch the next one.”

“Honestly, I just wanna crawl into my own bed and sleep after too many nights away from it. If you guys wanna keep going, I guess you can…”

“No. We’ll wait.” Bronto said.

“If we can’t wait, we’ll re-watch with you tomorrow,” Pippa amended.

I gave them a half-smile and wearily wandered into my room, dragging the bags that had been dropped by my door in with me.

I closed my door and put my back against it. I reached behind my back and twisted the lock on the doorknob. I needed privacy. I needed to shut everything else out.

My room. My home. Above my salon. For now, at least. My bed. I threw myself on it and cried like a baby. All over my $1700.00 pure white duvet.

***

I’d had my bubble bath. I’d gone out and watched one episode with them while making myself eat a slice of pizza. I hadn’t had much of an appetite the past 48 hours. Usually, I ate my feelings. Not this time. This felt different.

Back in the kitchen, getting a drink, I got cornered by Pippa.

“We have a lot of catching up to do, me ‘n’ you.”

We sure did.

She gave me a look and rolled her hand, urging me to get on with it.

“I can’t tonight. I--- I can’t.” I choked up.

Her brandy-colored eyes went wide, and she pulled me in for a hug. She’d never seen me cry.

I stiffened. No. I wasn’t gonna do this. I wasn’t going to cry over him.  I pulled back and got myself together.

“Rider and I are finished. We’re done. I don’t wanna talk about any of it tonight.”

Bronto was walking into the kitchen, looking remorseful for hearing that. Or remorseful at that news, I didn’t know which. I also didn’t care.

I continued talking to Pip. “I just wanna go to bed early and then open the salon in the morning and get on with my life. I have to face my mother, too, eventually, and that won’t be pretty. Tonight, I just want a little bit of peace, to sleep in my own bed, and try to forget about the nightmare of the past week.

“Okay,” Pippa said and gave my hand a squeeze. “When you’re ready, I’m here.”

She was a good friend. The second-best friend I had.

I slipped past Bronto and went to my room, shutting the door behind me. I pulled the duvet off, letting it drop to the carpet, and then crawled into my bed and turned out the light.

***

Being pulled out of a deep sleep, I felt lips on my neck.

It felt nice.

“Jenna,” Rider said, softly.

He was in my bed. With me.

What?

No.

Hell no!

I jolted awake and shoved him, and I must’ve been on the edge of my bed, because I started to fall. He reached for me and tried to catch me, and I teetered for a second, and then I fell anyway. I landed hard on the carpet. Fuck.

Poetic.

“You okay?” He was in a squat beside me, trying to help me up.

“No! What the eff are you doing here?”

“Goin’ to sleep,” he said.

“Why are you trying to sleep here?”

“We already went over this, gorgeous.”

I was aghast. “Over this?”

“The part where I said I was stayin’ with you to keep you safe at night. If my place hadn’t burnt down, we coulda stayed there. But since it did…”

“What about the part where I said we were over?”

“Jenna.”

“Don’t Jenna me!”

“Sorry. Not Jenna. Gorgeous.” He sounded amused.

“I’m not joking.”

“Baby?” He tried, teasingly.

I flicked my lamp on and pointed to the door.

“Get out.”

He raised his eyebrows at me.

“You’re naked!” I gasped.

He smiled at me. A big smile.

“Get the fuck out!” I pointed. “We’re over. You’re not welcome in my home, certainly not naked, and extra-certainly not welcome in my bed. So, go.”

“You don’t want me to go,” he said cockily.

“Go.”

“You don’t want me to go.”

“Oh. Then why am I telling you to go?”

“Because you’re upset. Your head is fucked up and you’re tryin’ to push me away, like you told me you would, like I told you I’d deal with. I’m not goin’. I’ve missed you the last two nights. I wanna sleep beside you. You’re upset at me, so we don’t have to fuck, unless you think that’ll help you work out your anger?” He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

I scowled at him.

“Okay, then. But, I wanna wake up beside you.  You’re still angry in the morning, feel free to dig those nails extra deep into my back when we fuck.”

“Get out.”

“Let’s get some sleep.”

“Get out.”

“Jenna, let’s---”

“Get out, get out getoutgetoutgetout!” I was fuming. How dare he not take that seriously. How dare he!

“Baby…” he tried, having the decency to look a little bit contrite.

I saw his clothes on my carpet. I lifted his jeans up and whipped them at him. They missed and landed on the floor. I threw a button-down blue and grey flannel shirt at him. I’d never seen him wear this. It would go amazing with his eyes. Asshole. It hit him in the face. But he didn’t budge, and it floated to the rug.

I threw a grey t-shirt at him and the two black socks that were sticking out of his boots. He just stood there. The shirt fell on my bed, nowhere near him.

I picked up a heavy black motorcycle boot and then I heaved that at him, with a grunt, and he dodged it. I threw the other one. He didn’t manage to dodge that one and it hit him in the shin. He grunted and then advanced and got me and pinned me to the bed, just as I was reaching for the lamp on my bedside table.

“Gorgeous, settle down. Talk to me.”

I grunted and fought. He had me pinned. Just like that first night at the cabin. I went lax, knowing that struggling would just make him get sexual.

He loosened the grip.

“Baby, please, settle down. I’m not goin’ anywhere. We have to talk this out. If you don’t wanna do it now, we’ll do it in the morning. Let’s just sleep on it. Okay?”

“No. You’re not welcome here.” I raised my voice. “Pippa? Pip! Call the cops!”

He put his hand over my mouth, “Bronto, don’t let her call the cops!” he yelled.

“She’s crashed,” Bronto sounded like he was just outside the door. “That girl can sleep through anything. Don’t worry, Ride.”

Damn. He was right, too.

I slapped his hand away from my face.

“Get out,” I demanded.

He shook his head.

“Get out. Get out. GET OUT!”

“I told you I wouldn’t give up on you. I’m not giving up on you.”

“I  thought that was sweet, yeah. When I didn’t want you to give up on me.  Or when I wasn’t sure. Now I’m sure. Give up.”

“No.” His face was serious.

“Get out. I told you I was done. You left. Why are you here?”

“Jenna.”

“Get out of my apartment.”

“I was giving you a few hours to cool your head. For me to cool mine.”

“Mine isn’t cool. It won’t ever be. So go.” I pointed at the door.

“Shoulda brought the cuffs,” he muttered.

“Oh, fuck off,” I sneered.

“You don’t want me to go,” he said and got up off me.

I sat up.

“I do.”

“Want me to tell you how I know you don’t?” He asked, looking smug. “Right after I spank your ass for tellin’ me to fuck off?”

“Fuck off. Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off! Right now. You and Bronto, both go. I’m done. I’m gonna fly out tomorrow, get the fuck outta Dodge. Ella can call me when all this shit is over.”

“You can’t go. You have a business to run.” He was smiling.

“I probably don’t. My mother’s probably in the middle of selling it right now. And I need to get the fuck away from you. That’s all I want right now.”

His expression dropped.

I stormed out to the living room. Bronto was on the edge of the couch, looking stressed with his head in his hands.

“Go home, Bronto. You’re done here,” I said.

“You can go, Bront. I’ll be here at night, so you can sleep in your own bed.” Rider was behind me. I whipped around and glared at him. He was doing up his jeans.

“Actually, I do need to go, Ride. My gran called and reminded me she needs me to take her to an early appointment. I was talkin’ to Scoot. We were thinkin’ of switching for the morning.”

“That’ll work,” Rider told him.

“But, Scoot’s crashed at my place. He can’t go back home tonight. Somethin’s gone down there, and my gran doesn’t let anyone sleep on her sofa.”

“Text Scoot. You run home, and he can come here and crash on the couch.”

“Do not tell him someone can crash on my couch!” I snapped. “Go, Bronto. And tell Scooter I don’t give a rat’s ass where he sleeps. He can sleep with you for all I care.”

Bronto’s face went sad.

I rolled my eyes. “Fuck this shit. Both of you get out!”

“Settle, Jenna.” Rider was looking annoyed with me.

I whirled around and went into my room and slammed the door and locked it. And then I started dragging my dressing table. It was effing heavy. Bottles, jars, everything scattered to the floor as I dragged it.

I put the table against the door. And then I dragged suitcases and boxes from my walk-in closet and piled all of them under the table and in front of the table, barricading myself in and him out. And then I went to my bedside table and downed the rest of the bottle of water I’d brought to bed with me. I climbed in and shut the lamp off.

Fucking jerk stupid shithead asshole. I couldn’t believe his nerve. Climbing in bed with me, like our conversation today didn’t happen. Did he take anything seriously? And naked! Stupid jerk.

I fluffed my pillow up. If he dared try to come back in here, I’d lose my shit.

And then it dawned on me. What I was wearing.

I was wearing that stupid, stupid effing sweatshirt. I’d put it on with little jersey sleep shorts to sleep in, deciding I’d sleep in it one more time and burn it in the morning. I had this whole plan to take it out to the chimenea and torch it. I just decided to wear it one more night. That was why he’d been so cocky saying that I didn’t want him to go.

Mortified.

I did want him to go. I was just being stupidly sentimental about this sweatshirt like an idiot. I tore it over my head and threw it and then stomped to my dresser and yanked out a tank top.

I heard the doorknob jiggle.

“Jenna, lemme in, babe.”

“Fuck you!’ I shouted. “You fuck with that door I will call the goddamn cops. I have my phone in my hand!” I reached for it and held it up. Like an idiot. As if he could see through doors.

He didn’t answer. I waited. Nothing.

Okay, good. Maybe he left. I heard a door close. I strained to hear and heard two car doors slam from out back. That was promising. Maybe they’d both left. I looked out the window. Rider’s car was still here. Bronto’s wasn’t. Maybe they left together in Bronto’s car. I rolled over and tried to get more comfortable.

God, I was never so effing angry in my life. How the hell was Pippa sleeping through this?

If they both did go, I certainly hoped I wasn’t being watched by their enemies. And I hoped they’d locked the door. Fear prickled up my spine.

I tossed and turned.

I tossed and turned some more. I reshuffled the pillows around and pulled my blankets up some more and a scent hit my nose.

Was he back here? It was his scent. It was a faint fabric softener, male body wash, and green apple smell mixed with the smell of leather and outside. Yes, I could smell all those things.

Why?

I flicked my lamp on and saw the source of the scent. The gray t-shirt I’d flung at him. It was draped half over the pillow beside the one my head had been on.

I flicked the lamp off and reached for it and held it up. I was about to give it a toss. I didn’t. I held it up in the air for what felt like an eternity, before bringing it to my nose.

My eyes closed as I inhaled it. It was super-soft and it was also warm, and that made it worse.

My heart was bleeding.

I had to hold firm with him, because this wouldn’t ever work. Not ever. We weren’t right for one another. Even if I wished with everything in me, that we were.

This hurt ten times worse than Michael in high school.  A hundred times worse. Because even though I thought I’d kept up a bit of a wall, evidently it wasn’t nearly enough.

I silently cried. And cried some more, until my eyes drifted shut, the t-shirt still held to my face, visions of all the things I loved about him streaming on a loop in my brain.

***

My alarm clock was blaring at me to get up. I got up and got right into the shower. And then I got into my bath robe and shoved the door blockade stuff out of the way enough to get out of my room.

In the living room, I saw Rider sitting on my white couch, in his jeans, and Scooter was crashed on the rug, using a toss pillow and a throw from the couch as his blanket. Rider was using the pillow and the blanket I’d put out for Bronto before things went mental last night.

I glared at him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Told ya I wasn’t leavin’,” he said, sleepily. “Scoot. Wake up.” He nudged Scooter’s back with his foot. Scooter’s eyes opened, and he smiled. “Mornin’.”

Pippa was coming out of the other bathroom.  She was in her little black sexy short satin robe, hair up in a top knot, sexy librarian black-rimmed eyeglasses on, and looking fresh as a daisy and all smiles.

“Lookie here. Full house,” she smirked. “Want me to make pancakes?”

“I like pancakes,” Scooter said, getting to his feet and stretching.

I went to the kitchen, deciding to ignore them, and made myself a coffee.

Rider was behind me, slipping his arm around my middle, pulling my back to his front. I froze.

“We’ll talk tonight. I gotta get to the garage. Scoot’s gonna shadow you all day. He’s carryin’. Boys’ll do drive bys regularly. Okay, baby?”

I didn’t answer him. I was too angry.

“Tonight, we’ll talk, Jenna.” He kissed my neck and then he left via my kitchen door.

And I didn’t know whether to throw something, to scream, or to throw myself on the floor and have a toddler tantrum.

Scooter was in the kitchen with me. “Got coffee on the go yet?”

I growled at him. Right at him. He reared back and went, “Whoa. Sorry. I can get it.”

“Fucking bullshit,” I hissed and stormed out of there and headed to my bedroom so that I could get dressed, hearing him grumble something about him probably not getting pancakes, either.

My bedroom looked like a crime scene, so I started trying to put things back where they belonged. I got my boxes of Christmas decorations back in my closet and put the suitcases away.

Because I’d dragged my dressing table over to the door and it was now back, everything from that was all over the place, too. Bottles of perfume, a big vase filled with make-up brushes toppled, several nail polishes, they were all over the rug. A blush palate had broken and made a mess all over my rug.  I spied his black Duffle bag from the cabin and the clubhouse on my floor and I glared at it. If I didn’t know he’s lost almost all his belongings in a fire, I would’ve thrown that stuff off the roof terrace. I couldn’t though. So, I just got angrier.

I began slamming bottles and jars back onto my table and wasn’t being very gentle about it when I heard, “Hey.”

I whirled around, and Ella was standing there. And she looked alarmed.

“I’ve gotta get to the salon,” I said quickly. “If you have anything to say to me, do it there while I open up. I need a minute to get dressed.”

Ella’s expression fell, then she took a step back. I closed the door and tried to gather my senses.

I hadn’t seen or spoken to Ella in days and days. And I just closed the door in her face.

My God, I was coming undone. I’d ended it with Rider. I was probably losing my salon and my apartment. And I was trashing my relationship with my best friend since kindergarten.

God. I had to get my head together. My luck, my mother would show up here any minute.

After a minute with my forehead pressed to the door, I turned around and got dressed in a pair of black trousers and a black blouse, to match my mood. I put on high heels and quickly put some basic make-up on, ignoring his dopp kit in my bathroom and his toothbrush sitting there beside the sink. I grabbed my phone and my bag, and left, not even making my stupid bed.

I always made my bed.

***

“How’s her heart, Ride?” Ella was calling out to Rider when I got out back. She was standing there with Deacon and she looked pissed.

“I’m working on winning it,” Rider said, looking at me, sitting on his motorcycle. The motorcycle he’d taken me for my very first ride on. Why was he still here?

“Don’t bet on that,” I snapped as I gave him a dirty look.

The way he looked at me turned my bones to water.

“Oh, I am betting on it. In fact, I’ll bet my Harley.” He communicated something with a jerk of his chin and I glanced back and saw he was looking at Scooter, who was behind me. Being my literal shadow. Rider looked at me again and his eyes pierced through me, lanced my gut. I tried to hide what I was feeling.

I’m pretty sure he saw right through it. He put his shades on and left, on his bike.

My chest was aching.

His car was still here, too, so obviously he had plans to come back.

I had eyes on me. Ella’s and Deacon’s and Ella’s were filled with concern. I stormed through the alley to the front door of the building, unlocked it, and went to my alarm panel, hitting buttons and flicking lights on. Ella was in the utility room with me a minute later. I offered her a coffee.

“Yeah,” she agreed to coffee. “And girl talk. What time is your first appointment?”

“Not for an hour.”

“Good.”

Ella shut the door. I burst into tears.

Ella’s jaw hit the floor and then she wrapped her arms around me and I buried my face into her blonde curls and kept bawling.

And then I filled her in. On everything.  And I cried in her arms. And she cried with me. We used ¾ of a box of Kleenex. And she got mad at Rider for me. And she got mad at me, too. She told me I needed to talk to him. To let him in, so we could work it out. She told me that it was going to be worth it.

“To be his. To have that big extended family. To be my sister-in-law. Because I know in my soul that one day I’ll be marrying Deacon. And I can tell. Rider? He’s got work cut out for him, but if he’s anything like he seems like he is, he’ll do that work, Jenna, and you’ll get your happily ever after.”

I told her I loved her, but she needed to give me space on this. And like the good friend she was, she did. She gave my hand a squeeze, promised we’d do a girlie night very soon. She ordered me to be nice to Bronto, said she’d heard I was sending him careening toward a nervous breakdown because I was giving him so much shit. Hardly.  I agreed to be gentle with the six foot five three-hundred-pound scary biker. <insert eye roll>.

And then, ten minutes after she left the salon, my effing fricking fracking mother showed up.

Damn it!