Penance Page 9

  Until I moved into the mottled flesh stage. “Did yours itch?”

  Her eyes grew wide and she leaned forward. “Oh my god, horribly. But mine wept for months. He must not have had you on the cross as long as me.”

  My mouth went dry as her smile fully dimmed and her eyes lost their focus. I’d seen people trapped in memories. That girl wasn’t over what her stepbrother had done to her. Not by a long shot.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, trying hard to keep from wanting to smash the table at the unfairness of it all. “Your stepbrother was an asshole.”

  “He was. A huge one. I really am glad you don’t have to suffer the way I did.” She patted my hand. “I remember what it was like to be alone and in pain all the time. I wouldn’t want anyone else to have to deal with that.”

  “And now you don’t, because you have Alder.”

  “Yes,” she said, that smile tugging its way back onto her face. Not as bright as before, but there. “And the people of Justice are so nice. Give them a chance—you might find some really good friends here.”

  If I stayed after this mess with the Soul Suckers was over. A picture of Finn popped into my head, but I pushed that away. I wasn’t about to stay in some town for a man. Not even one as kind and funny as the fish.

  We spent our lunch chatting about our favorite meals and recipes, swapping tips and laughing over some of the complete failures that had come out of our kitchens. We were in the middle of one such story when a knock sounded on the door and Deacon poked his head inside.

  “What’s so funny in here?”

  “Shye was just telling me about the time she tried to make s’mores in the microwave.” Tears had started running down my face from laughing so hard, and there was no way I’d be catching my breath anytime soon. In the microwave would forever be embedded in my mind as one of the funniest things I’d ever heard.

  Deacon obviously had no idea why that would be funny. “What’s a s’more?”

  Our laughter stopped, and Shye frowned. “Are you being serious?”

  “Yeah,” I said, unsure whether to run to the grocery store right then or smack him upside the head. “How could you have never had a s’more?”

  He shrugged, seemingly unaffected. “I don’t know what they are, so figuring out where in the lexicon of my life things went wrong is an impossibility. Why is it funny to make them in the microwave?”

  “They have marshmallow on them.” A blank face met Shye’s answer. “Are you telling me you’ve never put a marshmallow in a microwave?”

  “I don’t know that I’ve ever had a marshmallow outside of something already made.”

  I suddenly wanted to know a lot more about this guy. “You’re a mystery, Deacon Manns.”

  He grinned again, looking charming as all get-out. And handsome. The man had a roughened movie-star quality to him. “I’m just a guy. One who was sent to deliver clothes to you.”

  He handed me a bag before leaning down to press a kiss on top of Shye’s head. “Thirty minutes, then I have to get you home or—”

  “My carriage will turn into a pumpkin?”

  “More like your prince will turn into the beast and decimate the town to find you.”

  Shye actually giggled. “Sounds about right.”

  Deacon rolled his eyes before stepping outside, closing the door behind him with little more than a nod in my direction. Shye didn’t even wait to tackle that little bag of clothes—just reached inside and started yanking out stuff. Folding shirts and pants then placing them on the bed behind her as she went.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said, collecting our garbage from lunch to toss in the can outside.

  “It’s fine. I like to keep busy.”

  As did I, which was why I had the room cleaned in no time. Trash cleared and clothes folded, I sat down to face the woman who had shown up unannounced. The one I had a feeling I’d like to have as a friend. “Thanks for all of this.”

  She waved me off. “It was nothing.”

  It was definitely not nothing. Not to me. “Seriously, don’t downplay this. You have no idea how nice it is to have real food after living on burgers and protein bars for a week.”

  I felt like an ass complaining, though. I hadn’t been in Justice long, hadn’t been out of the Soul Suckers’ hold for more than a matter of days really, yet I’d gotten a job, a place to stay, food, safety, and now a possible girlfriend to commiserate with. Plus Finn. I had a lot to be thankful for.

  “Sorry,” I said, not wanting to seem too greedy. “I know I should be grateful for—”

  “My dad—who was president of the Boulder Soul Suckers—used to tell people to be glad they got anything at all.” Shye looked at me as if she could see deep down into the darkest hiding places in my mind. “Alder tells me that’s accepting scraps and that it’s okay to want more. To even ask for it.”

  And…yeah, she knew. Understood exactly the sort of mentality that had been forced upon me. But the genesis of that sort of thinking wasn’t just from the Soul Suckers. Having a mom who worked the clubs for a living didn’t exactly make for a stable living environment, and sometimes food wasn’t the priority for a night’s wages. My mom had tried when I was younger, but things had never been easy for us. I had to be grateful for what little I got because there wasn’t much to go around. And now, I worked in a bar mostly for tips. I didn’t see things changing.

  When I didn’t say anything in return, Shye sighed. “Look, Jinx, you don’t know me yet, but I think we have a lot in common. I grew up in the MC world. I know how bad being involved in a motorcycle club can get.”

  And still, I said nothing, thoughts of my mom and my childhood whipping through me like a tornado. Stirring up the dark and dirty of my past. Of hers. Of a life that had started off bad and slid downhill fast. Too fast.

  Shye didn’t push—simply nodded, not looking at me as she said, “You need all these dark cotton shirts because the lash marks on your back may keep oozing. Wear a tank top under them to keep from showing on the outside. That way no one wonders what’s wrong. The skin will feel tight for a few weeks, I hate to say. They’ll also burn and itch, but that means they’re healing. Use some aloe vera to keep everything moisturized. I’ll have Finn drop some off to you.”

  “Great,” I said, trying hard to come back from the bad places in my head. “Thanks.”

  “And when you’re ready, we can talk about the rest.” She glanced my way then darted her eyes to her hands as she refolded the pants she’d already straightened. Avoiding me. “Our histories are likely the same. The clubs, the men, the…stuff.”

  Stuff. She couldn’t even say the word, let alone talk about what made up stuff. I had a feeling her stuff was far different from mine. I gritted my teeth as I said, “That won’t be necessary.”

  “No, really. I’m here if you want to—”

  “Did they sell you like cattle?”

  She looked as surprised as I felt at my outburst. “Sorry?”

  In for a penny, in for a pound. “Sell you. In an auction. Did they strip you down, stand you on a dais, and sell you to the highest bidder?”

  Her face paled. “No. I—”

  “Did they ever use you as collateral in a card game? Throw you in like some plastic chip or hundred-dollar bill?”

  “Jinx, I don’t—”

  “Did they? You were brought up in the clubs, right? Your daddy was a member, so you were a girl on the periphery. Accepted and considered one of their family, but not allowed inside, right?”

  “For most of it, yeah.”

  Figured. “Well, I wasn’t. You were raised as if you had value to those men, even if they turned on you later. I never held any status within their club. You don’t know how bad things can be inside. So, while I’m sure your story is similar to mine, it’s not the same. My mom hung out at the clubs, but I wasn’t a member’s kid. I didn’t have any value to them other than my body from the time I hit puberty, so I stayed away. Ran away, really. It nearly kil
led me to throw myself into their world.”

  Shye’s expressive face fell a little, her brow tightening and her lips pursing. “Why did you, then?”

  Any possible words disappeared. Open mouth, insert foot. Why did I go to the Black Angels MC? To find my mom. Why did I stay with them? Because I was an idiot of epic proportions and bought their story. Big mistake. Huge.

  And not something I ever talked about. “That’s not your business.”

  Thankfully, Shye didn’t push. She also didn’t drop her smile as she collected her slow cooker and utensils. “Okay. This may have turned in a direction I hadn’t intended, but I had fun today. Thank you for letting me invade your space and for being so kind. I think it’s about time for me to get home before Alder comes looking, though. You come see me real soon, okay? Bring Deacon—I need to rile him up a little every now and again.”

  I followed her to the door, my eyes burning. This girl had been kind to me, and I’d shot down her words. Had tossed up a wall between us that I had no way to tear down. I felt like an asshole.

  And yet, as Shye left, she turned and gave me another one of those soft, sweet smiles. “You’re in a safe place now. If there’s one statement of mine that you can believe in, it’s that one. These men won’t let bad things happen to you.”

  I’d heard that before. “And when I’m of no use to them anymore?”

  “That’s not how they operate.”

  Yeah, well…I’d have to wait to make a determination on that one.

  And I would—wait, that is. I’d hang around Justice for a while. I liked working for Deacon, and the rest of the townspeople who came into the bar all seemed nice. Plus, Finn was here…somewhere. Not at the bar yet today for sure, but he’d turn up. He always did—seeking me out to say hi and see how I was doing. Watching me work or jumping in to help me. Hanging around the bar until my shift ended so he could walk me back to the hotel and give me a hug. Sweet, kind Finn. Even just thinking his name made my heart do weird somersaults in my chest. Made my body respond in a way it never really had before.

  He made me want things that would hurt to lose.

  And that would have been the most terrifying thing of all.

  Chapter Nine

  FINN

  Being able to talk to Lainie and Elijah every day was definitely a deterrent to the low-buzz anxiety I endured. Sometimes, though, I just needed my brother. My twin.

  “It feels as if nothing is happening.”

  A scratchy noise came over the speaker of my phone, likely the sound of Elijah sighing. “As much as I agree with Lainie that Alder can be a controlling asshole, he’s not going to let some biker gang take over the town. I’m sure he’s doing something.”

  I flicked a chunk of sawdust off the piece of wood I’d started carving the day before. I still wasn’t sure what it would become, but the swirls in the grain spoke to me. The smoky-blue color making it impossible not to turn it into something more than firewood. “He’s not really involved in this one.”

  “Wait,” Elijah said, his voice no longer calm or steady. “Are you saying things are happening in Justice that Alder doesn’t have his hands in?”

  I snorted. “You sound like Lainie.”

  “That’s because I spend way too much time with her. I need a life.”

  “You have one.”

  “A better one.”

  “You can always come home.”

  That earned me a full-on guffaw. “And what? Defend people against traffic tickets?”

  I could see his point. “Retire young. Come back and live a nice, slow life of fishing and hunting and—”

  “I haven’t fished or hunted in over a decade.”

  “You might enjoy it.”

  “I might bludgeon you to death with a fishing rod before the first week is out.”

  Truth. “Fine. Stay with Lainie and suffer your non-life of espressos and fancy cars and big trials.”

  “And long nights and empty beds and microwave dinners. Don’t leave out the highlights, Finn.”

  I held up the hunk of wood, squinting as I brought a chisel to a particularly intricate pattern. Wanting to follow the curves. “My kingdom for a night in yours.”

  “Anytime, brother. Come on out to Denver, and I’ll show you the town. Take you to a good restaurant.”

  “We have a good restaurant.”

  “So you say. You also think the truck stop has fine food.”

  The truck stop. Where Jinx and I had shared sundaes. Where I’d held her hand for the first time.

  Things I shouldn’t be thinking about and that even Elijah didn’t need to know about. “I could go for some of their huckleberry pie right now.”

  “I know, and you’ll be bemoaning the short huckleberry growing season for the next nine months.”

  My twin knew me well. “Just as you’ll be complaining about how boring your life is until the next woman comes around to give you something to do.”

  He huffed a laugh. “Fine. Maybe. Hey, I think I might come home for Christmas this year. Want some company?”

  That got my attention. “Is Lainie coming too?”

  “Doubt it.”

  “You know you both have to be here for Alder’s wedding.”

  “I know that. She does as well. We’ll be there, but I was thinking I’d come see you for Christmas also. Hang with my favorite brother for a bit.”

  Unusual. That decision was definitely unusual, but I’d never turn him down. “You’re always welcome here.”

  “Good. I’ll make plans. I have to get to work, but you text or call if you need anything.”

  “I will. Same to you.”

  “Always.”

  I tapped to end the call, rolling the wood in my hand as my mind wandered. Home for Christmas. Elijah hadn’t come home for the holidays in…four years? Maybe five. This would be a treat, though it got me worrying that there was a reason for coming home twice in as many months. That there was something wrong. He’d tell me, though. We didn’t keep secrets.

  Except I hadn’t told him about Jinx. The sundaes, the hand-holding, the kiss…none of it. I’d kept all of that to myself.

  Maybe he had a few secrets too.

  “Okay, wood,” I said, focusing back on the project at hand, knowing there was nothing I could do to figure out what was up with Elijah until he was ready to tell me. “Maybe you’re about to become a Christmas present.”

  There were some things that were simply bound to set off my need to have control of my world. Things that ignited the chaos inside my head. Things that reminded me of painful emotions I’d much rather have forgotten completely about.

  Dealing in any way with the woman I’d been dating when I’d started using drugs all those years ago was definitely high on that list. Seeing her name on the screen of my phone as I was getting ready to walk out the door for work? Sent my entire world teetering.

  I’d barely spoken to Mercy Bell in fifteen years—intentionally so. The only time I’d initiated any contact with her had been when I’d been working my twelve steps. I’d written out all of my apologies and had mailed them to the people my addiction had affected…including Mercy. I couldn’t have handled a face-to-face at the time, plus asking her to come to the prison where I’d been incarcerated would have just made things more difficult for her, so letter it had been. She’d sent me a reply that had said something to the effect of I forgive you. Get better. Done and done… Yet somehow, the guilt that had eaten me alive back when I’d been inside still gnawed at my gut when I thought of her. Because of that, I’d pretty well avoided her since she’d moved home with her young son in tow.

  There would be no avoiding her today.

  I tapped to answer the call. “What’s up, Mercy?”

  “Hey, Finn. I hate to bother you, but I can’t reach either of your brothers, and I wasn’t sure who else to call.”

  If she was looking for my brothers, this definitely wasn’t any sort of social call. “No problem. What is it you need?”r />
  “Are you anywhere close to town? I think there’s trouble over here, and I can’t go check because I’ve got Beckett with me.”

  Her son. One of the few kids in Justice, and someone who definitely needed protecting. “I’m about six minutes out. Stay put—I’ll be there.”

  “Okay. Hurry.”

  I tapped to disconnect the call then sent a quick text to Parris before rolling onto the highway. No way was I calling Deacon for backup—he needed to stick close to Jinx in case she needed help. Parris responded immediately with an already on my way text that settled at least a few of my nerves. Whatever was going on, I wouldn’t have to deal with it alone.

  The drive to town passed faster than it should have, mostly because I slammed my foot on the gas and hauled ass the whole way there. Speed limit? No such thing. I needed to get to Mercy. Not because I still had feelings for her—those had been long gone for well over a decade. No, that number coming up on my phone made me the Kennard in charge for the moment, the one who needed to take care of Justice and its residents. If Mercy had seen trouble, that meant it was close enough to The Baker’s Cottage to possibly involve Katie, which meant Gage would be involved because he didn’t leave that girl’s side. Three adults and one child were definitely in harm’s way, plus anyone else who happened into town at the wrong time.

  I’d never wanted to take on the yoke of the Kennard legacy—the responsibility of running the business or the town—yet there was no slowing me down. A Justice resident needed me, and I sure as fuck was going to show up. Alder was working to keep the whole town employed, Bishop was off in Vegas, and Gage—an honorary Kennard, for sure—was likely distracted with Katie. This was on me to handle. Me and Parris.

  The man’s bike sat outside the hardware store when I rolled up, though he wasn’t on it. Nothing else looked out of the ordinary—just a random, quiet weekday on an almost dead Main Street. I parked and hopped out, heading for the entrance to the storefront the Bell family owned. Had always owned as far as I was concerned. Bell’s Hardware had been on this same corner my entire life, had actually been there for close to a hundred years. They’d upgraded a few things along the way, but the place still had that look to it. That small-town Americana style. Nothing much had changed over the years except for the name over the door. The sign that once had called out her grandpa and later her dad now showcased her name. Mercy Bell, Store Manager.