"Why is the fence cutting off the lake? It’s a waste of a view," Drew asks, sitting on the bench in front of a small lake. It’s on my old man's property line, but he doesn’t own it.
"Could you imagine how many drunk fucks would end up floating facedown if it wasn’t preventing the dumb assholes from wandering off for a piss or a swim." I snort, taking the blunt from her. The toxic shit fills my lungs, loosening my limbs.
"Oh, man, you're right." She dips her head, her curls bouncing.
"The prick was wrong, you know," I tell her, looking out across the lake. It's so secluded, it feels like our own little world away from the madness of the club.
"Wrong about what?" She blinks rapidly, like she does when she's uncomfortable or nervous.
"Your scar." I tip my head to the jagged skin down her forehead. It’s faded so much, though it’s still noticeable. It isn’t ugly, though. There’s nothing ugly about Drew. She’s actually kinda beautiful. Her features are big and so animated. Huge oval eyes, thick lashes, a dusting of freckles she hates sprinkle her petite nose. I’ve always kinda liked them. It’s Drew.
"Like I give a shit what a pervert thinks." She shrugs, getting to her feet. Picking up a stone, she skims it across the water. I taught her how to do that.
"You have his blood on you." I gesture to her white tee.
"Yeah, sorry. I'll get you a new shirt." I knew that was mine.
"I don't want a new one. You'll just steal it anyway." I catch the smirk on her lips. Brat.
"Well, I don't want this one now." She pulls one arm out, then the other, jerking the shirt this way and that, then over her head. Balling it up, she tosses it into the water.
I follow the shirt and laugh. "Someone will find that and think a body is at the bottom of the lake."
She scoffs and gestures behind her, making her overalls shift, drawing my eyes to her bare skin and some bra thing. "Alec, did you hear what I said?”
“Sorry, what?”
“I said with the life we live there probably are bodies down there.” She huffs, placing a hand on her hip. "What the hell are you looking at?" She wrinkles her nose, following my gaze. "It's a training bra. Gross, right?"
No, it isn't gross. Crazy Joe was wrong. She does have tits, and the fact that I’m noticing them is going to change everything…
Four
Drew
Fourteen years old
One month later…
“My dad said I’m not allowed to spend time in your room with the door shut anymore,” I groan, embarrassment burning my cheeks.
“And you listen to your dad since when?” Alec frowns, holding a bunch of slasher movies up, waggling his brow. The club’s quiet tonight, nearly everyone out on club business. It’s eerie when nobody’s around. Noise carries. The walls creak and talk like the place is alive. The brothers who are here are all sleeping off long runs or busy getting reacquainted with the club sluts.
Usually, I wouldn’t care what my dad says—he can’t raise me in mayhem and expect me to follow stupid rules—but being around Alec lately is almost unbearable. My stupid hormones are driving me crazy, and I don’t think I can control them. What if I tell him how I feel and ruin everything between us? I can’t risk it.
“I’ll leave the door open. What, does he think I’m going to do, corrupt you?” He snorts.
“More like deflower me,” I retort, immediately wanting to stuff the words back into my mouth. I did not just say that.
My cheeks burn. My eyes widen in humiliation. I think I’ve shocked him into silence. His eyes bore into mine, making the whole situation ten times worse.
“How does he know I haven’t already?” He grins, compelling me to release the breath trapped in my lungs. Throwing the DVDs on his dresser, he comes at me, bending at the waist swooping me up on his shoulder in a firemen’s hold. His strong hands grip the back of my thighs, my ass prone up in the air. I grab his hips to keep my face from smacking into his back, while screeching, “Alec!”
He carries me farther inside his room and tosses me on the bed, making me bounce a couple times before he jumps on it. “We could have been doing the nasty for years.”
“Stop,” I warn.
“The beast with two backs,” he torments.
“Stop.” I giggle, his bouncing relentless.
“Knocking boots.” He thrusts his pelvis, and I bite my damn lip like a stupid girl.
“Stop!”
“Hiding the salami.”
“Ewww! Enough.” I slap his legs. He picks up a pillow and hits me with it.
“Watch a movie with me. I promise to keep my dick in my pants until you leave.”
Oh my God.
He grins down at me, a full, white-toothed, dimpled-cheek grin, and all I want to do is beg him to kiss me.
His movements have stilled, the smile replaced with curiosity, his brows tugging down. “Drew? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“Like what?” Why the hell am I breathless?
Crashing sounds, and raised voices echo down the hall, drawing both our attention. Leaping off the bed, he helps me up, and we race to the main room. A few brothers have returned. Ash is laid out on one of the tables, a blood-soaked cloth at his neck, while Ice holds a bundled shirt to a wound on his own arm. “Why the fuck didn’t you drive him to the hospital?” Jimmy barks, pulling out his phone. “We need the doc,” he says into the receiver, then ends the call.
“It’s too late for that. He wouldn’t have made it to the hospital.” Kai jerks his head, putting pressure on the wound.
“Fuck,” Jimmy bellows, storming out of the room.
“Drew.” Kai calls my name, and I startle. “Come hold this for me.” Alec puts his arm across my waist, stopping me from moving. I don’t think my legs can anyway. They feel like Jell-O. He’s bleeding out. Just last night, he was sitting at this very table, drinking beers, laughing, living—and now he’s dying. Alec stalks forward, replacing Kai’s hands with his. Kai is covered in crimson gore, a wild, untamed look in his eyes. He moves past me to the bar. Snatching a bottle of Jack, he swallows a couple hearty gulps. “Fucking bastards ambushed us, tried to steal our merchandise. They fucked with the wrong motherfuckers,” he mumbles, leaving the room, only to return a minute later with an automatic weapon.
“Tell Jimmy I’m taking care of this shit.”
“Wait!” Alec demands. “You can’t go alone. Wait for backup.”
“Fuck that.”
Ice stands up. “I’ll come.”
“You can’t. You’re injured.” Alec waves his hands around pointing to the arm he’s bleeding from and Ash’s body.
Finding my composure, I run to the kitchen and grab the first aid kit. As soon as I return, Alec moves his hands away from Ash’s neck, sighing and shaking his head in defeat. I race to put the pressure back on, but blood rushes from his wound like a tapped faucet. His skin is pale, his eyes staring into nothingness. He’s gone. I move to Ice and gently lift his hand away. There’s a nasty hole in his arm. “The bullet has to come out,” he tells me, and my eyes expand. I can’t do that.