Jailbait (21 page)

I feel a tug in my heart when we take off, missing my father. He finally had the time to get his pilot license last year. But we never had the time to go out together like we talked about. I close my eyes to keep from crying, and promise myself that I’ll always find time for the ones I love. Because in the end, that’s what matters.
 

Grayson is staring at the city below, face lit up like a kid on Christmas. He turns to me, mouthing, “This is awesome” and then looks back down. And now I’m smiling too. The emptiness is still there, and I know the loss of a parent leaves a hole that never goes away. But it won’t hurt like this forever. The ache will go away, the edge will scar over and begin to heal.
 

Knowing I have Grayson has already started the process. While I think it’s wise to take things somewhat slow—it has been six years after all—I know there’s no half-assing when it comes to Grayson King.
 

He’s an all-or-nothing kind of man.
 

The helicopter takes us to the roof of my father’s—my—building downtown. We meet my uncle in his office, and I introduce him to Grayson. My uncle remembers him from when we were teens. He’s my mother’s brother, and while he wasn’t blood related to my father, he was family in his eyes, even after my mom died. Uncle David never married, unless you count his relationship with his work.
 

When we’re about ready to leave, I tell Grayson I have a business matter to attend to and shoo him out of the office.
 

“What’s that about?” my uncle asks, slipping his arms through the sleeves of his suit jacket.
 

“Did my father ever say anything about Grayson to you? Recently, I mean. Not years ago.”
 

Uncle David shakes his head. “No, why?”

I take a breath, debating how much to tell. Part of me feels bad for keeping my uncle in the dark. “About a month ago, he hired Grayson to follow me around, making sure I was safe.”
 

“Why would he do that? We have our own security.”
 

“He said something about not trusting his own people and thought someone was out to get me.”
 

My uncle almost drops his briefcase. “Pepper! Why didn’t you tell me? If someone is—”

“I don’t think they are,” I interrupt. “Come on, you really think that Alcott Davenwood would just ignore a potential threat?”
 

“Hell no. You father would have exposed and extinguished the smallest threat to this family.”
 

“Exactly. Which is why it’s curious that he asked Gray to come back.”
 

We start walking to the door. I can see Grayson through the glass walls, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.
 

“Are you sure your father had him come back here?”
 

I nod. “I saw their text messages on my father’s phone. And,” I start, unable to keep the smile from my face, “I’m glad he’s back.”
 

“Be careful, Pepper. I see so much of my sister in you. Not just in how you look, but in how you want to see the good in everyone. Trust isn’t a commodity to pass out.”
 

“I know. And I trust Grayson.” I open the office door. “We should go before we’re late.”
 

I take Grayson’s hand, not letting go until we’re outside and getting in the car. I’m about to duck in the back of the Bentley when a familiar sound catches my attention. I whirl around, looking down the street.
 

“Pepper?” Grayson asks, putting his hand on the small of my back and stepping in close. His stance is protective. He sees the men on motorcycles too. “Get in the car.”
 

I swallow my nerves and scramble in, almost falling face-first onto the leather seat. I scoot over to the window, so thankful for the dark tint, and watch taillights disappear behind cars on the busy downtown street.
 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” my uncle says. “Are you all right, Pepper?”
 

Grayson gets in next to me just as quickly. He closes the door before the driver has a chance to and moves in close to me, looking out the window.
 

“Yeah. I’m nervous for this meeting, that’s all.”
 

“Don’t be. I’ve been on conferences calls with Mr. Lee all week. I can do all the talking if you wish.”
 

“Yeah. That’d be great, actually.”
 

“Then I will. Don’t stress, Pepper. You’re here to show we’re serious about this partnership.”
 

I force a smile and nod. This can’t be a coincidence anymore. Or maybe I’m hyper-vigilant to motorcycles now. Lots of people in the city have them. And it’s such a nice night…
calm down, Pepper.

Grayson doesn’t say much on the way to dinner. He looks up and down the street when we get out of the car, using his body to shield me as if he’s expecting the worst. Seeing him all anxious only increases my own anxiety. Does he know something about the men on the bikes? I can’t ask him anything now; it has to wait until after dinner. I order wine as soon as we sit down and take a big sip as soon as I get it.
 

Deep breath in. Hold it. Let it out.
 

I do my best to pay attention as my uncle and Mr. Lee discuss business, but my mind keeps going back to the men on the motorcycles. What do they want from me? Are they mad their friends attacked me and got arrested? That’s assuming they’re even in a gang—club—I don’t even know.
 

Mr. Lee’s daughter came with him. She’s always wanted to see New York City, he told us. She’s close in age with me and competes in dressage. We start talking about horses, and along with wine and Grayson’s reassuring hand on my thigh, I relax.
 

By the time dinner starts to wrap up, the partnership has come to an agreement, June Lee and I consider each other friends, and I’m not worried about men in leather anymore. Grayson gets up to use the bathroom, and I get out my phone to show June pictures of Spartan.

“Pepper?” a familiar voice calls to me. “Pepper, is that you?”
 

I look up and feel my four-course dinner rise in my throat.
Olson
.
 

“Oh, it is you!” he says. A young woman in a tight black dress hangs on his arm.
 

“Ex-boyfriend?” June whispers.
 

“He wishes,” I whisper back and put on my best I-didn’t-win-the-Oscar-but-the-cameras-are-on-me smile. “Hello, Olson.”
 

His eyes dart around the table, lingering a second too long on the empty spot next to me. “What are you doing?”
 

“She was enjoying a nice dinner, but now she’s talking to you,” June retorts, earning a you-better-behave-yourself glare from her father. I knew there was a reason I liked her right off the bat.
 

“Oh. We’re going to dinner too. This is my date. Cassy.”
 

“Chastity,” his date corrects, but doesn’t seem to care. I get the feeling she’s only here for the private jet ride Olson offered.

“You look good, Pepper,” he says and tries to shake his date off his arm. She doesn’t budge. “I’m sorry for before. My behavior…it wasn’t my best.”
 

My eyes widen. An apology doesn’t change him, but it’s a step in the right direction. “Thank you,” I reply. “It’s nice to hear.”
 

“I mean it, Pepper. You have a way of intimidating a man.” He flashes a smile. “My nerves got the best of me.”
 

Yeah the fuck right. “We all make mistakes.”
 

“We do. I hope you can forgive me,” he says and his date stares daggers at me. Hey, he’s all yours honey.
 

“Maybe I can make it up to you,” Olson starts. “Take you out for coffee.”
 

“That’s not necessary,” I say with a fake smile plastered to my face.
 

“It’s just coffee.”
 

“I have a boyfriend,” I say, even though Grayson and I haven’t established titles. Though really, I shouldn’t have to give a reason. I said no to coffee. Isn’t that enough?
 

“That was fast,” Olson counters.
 

My uncle straightens up, eyeballing Olson. “I think it’s time to leave.”
 

“Yeah, we’re going,” Olson says and takes a few steps forward. Behind him, Grayson makes his way back to the table. As soon as he comes into sight, I smile, feeling my heart flutter again. Olson turns, coming to a sudden halt. Grayson looks past Olson and makes eye contact with me, mirroring my smile.
 

Olson rips his arm away from his date and tries to shove Grayson. Gray, who’s built like a freight train, doesn’t even wobble on his feet. His fist comes up, but he stops himself. Collective gasps escape the mouths of patrons around us, and I stand.
 

“Gray,” I say, holding out my hand. I know the two don’t like each other, but I’m not having a brawl in the middle of this restaurant. He sidesteps away from Olson and takes my hand.
 

“Seriously?” Olson bellows, looking at Grayson, who slowly shakes his head.
 

“No,” Gray says. “Don’t do this.”
 

“Oh, I’m doing this,” Olson quips with a smile. “Real nice, Pepper. You turn me down for him, a drug dealer?”
 

“What?” I recoil, raising my eyebrows. “You need to go, Olson. You’re taking this too far. Grayson isn’t a drug dealer.”
 

“He’s not anymore.” His lips curve into a thin smirk. “He didn’t tell you, did he? Well, your boyfriend here has quite the colorful record. Tell her, Grayson. What have you been arrested for? Possession…breaking and entering…assault…and my favorite: arson.”
 

“That’s enough,” my uncle says and signals for security to come over.
 

“None of that is true,” I say, turning to Grayson. “Right, Grayson?” I turn to Grayson, whose blue eyes reflect the horror of the truth. His mouth opens, but he doesn’t say anything. Deny it. Please. Tell me it’s all lies.
 

Please don’t let this be true.

“Gray?”
 

Chapter Seventeen

Grayson
 

Six years ago…
 

“Where are we going?”
 

“The clubhouse. Then we’ll go home.”
 

“To your home, not mine,” I remind my dad. We just left the diner, and I still don’t know anymore about this shady business my dad got himself roped into. Anger builds as each minute passes and I’ve only been in California for a few hours. “So this money,” I start.
 

“What about it?”
 

“How are you going to give it back? Won’t someone notice you walking around with a hundred thousand dollars?”
 

“They didn’t notice when I took it,” he says with a smirk. Then he lets out a deep breath. “Ah, shit.” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and turns to look at me. “You’re a good kid,” he says for the second time in an hour. “Stay that way. You got your whole life ahead of you.”
 

“That’s not ominous as fuck or anything,” I muse and my dad chuckles. “And I have my fair share of fuck-ups.”
 

“What you call a fuck-up now is small potatoes when you’re an old man like me.”
 

The bad feeling grows inside of me, snowballing the farther we get from the airport. Pepper texted me again, wondering how things were going. I don’t know how to answer that, so I hold off on my reply for now.

“Why are you going to the clubhouse? Shouldn’t you be avoiding those guys?”
 

“Those guys are my brothers,” my dad replies.
 

Brothers you stole from… “They have no idea, right?”

“If they did, I wouldn’t be here.”
 

I swallow hard, heart pounding away. I’ll be the first to argue that I’m an adult. I have my own apartment. I pay my own bills. I have a job and I’m in college. But dealing with this…this isn’t something I feel grown up enough to deal with.
 

“Mr. Davenwood can give you money,” I blurt. “He has more than enough.”
 

“I don’t want to get Alcott involved in this.”
 

But getting me involved is okay?
 

“So you want me to delete this text I’m writing to Pepper giving her all the details, right?”
 

My dad turns to me, telling me this isn’t a joking matter with just one look. I put my phone in the cup holder of the truck and lean back, watching the scenery as we drive through Santa Cruz. A while later we arrive at a warehouse. Light spills onto the pavement from the open garage door. Dozens of motorcycles are parked out front, and loud music filters through the closed truck windows.
 

We get out and go inside. It’s like walking onto the set of a biker movie. Things are so cliché it takes some of the fear away. My father introduces me to everyone, and I’m surprised by how normal these guys are. They talk about work and families, complaining about housework and misbehaving children. A few aren’t happy I’m here, getting access to the club without earning any patches.
 

I’m not here to stay, my father reminds them, tossing around his officer status. I’m visiting for the weekend, and no one has a clue to why I’m really here. Nothing official is going on, and I grow bored listening to the guys’ bullshit. About an hour later, another biker comes in, pissed as hell. Apparently, a man in an SUV ran him off the road, causing his motorcycle to slide on gravel and go down hard on the pavement. The SUV driver wants to handle things legally and file with insurance as well as have the situation investigated because he denies it’s all his fault, and the biker wants the cash to fix his bike right now. The club members are in an uproar when they find out, and six of them take off to “handle” the situation. No one disrespects a member of The Jackals and walks away.