Jailbait (22 page)

My blood runs cold.
 

If they’re willing to beat a man unconscious for what sounds like an accident, they will skin my father alive for what he’s done. When another patch holder suggests using the club money to help cover repairs, my father stiffens. They’ll have to call a meeting and take a vote tomorrow. And if the club votes to do so, they’ll know right away the money is gone.
 

I stare at my father from across the room. He has less than twenty-four hours to get that money or he’s a dead man.
 

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out; it’s another text from Pepper, saying she misses me and is tired and is going to bed, but call her when I have the chance anyway. I don’t reply. I’m too shaken up to type out a coherent sentence, and I want too badly to confide my fears to her.

Using me as an excuse to cut out early, my father leaves the clubhouse before the other members are back. I keep my mouth shut until we’re a good mile away.
 

“You have to go get that money now,” I say, heart pounding like mad in my ears. “No waiting.”
 

My dad just nods, and turns in the opposite direction of where we came. An hour later, the truck bumps along a gravel road in a trailer park.
 

“Wade is my partner,” my dad tells me, killing the ignition. “He’s a lot of talk, and can throw a punch or two. But that’s all he’s got. Go in hard. Don’t be afraid to rough him up.”
 

I swallow my pounding heart and nod. I’ve been in fights, and won most of them. The ones I didn’t win got broken up before I had a chance to. My dad knocks on the door of a run-down trailer, and a minute later it opens.
 

“Nicky!” the guy says, holding out his arms. He takes a long drag on a blunt and blows smoke in our faces. “What’s up, man?”
 

“Listen, Wade,” my dad starts, “I need my damn money.”
 

“I ain’t got your money.”
 

They go into a heated verbal exchange. Years in the Army have made my dad intimidating to get into a yelling match with. But years in the Army have left him with injuries and he can’t get around as fast anymore.
 

Which is where I come into play.
 

I’m thinking of Pepper. Of how much I miss her and want to be back in bed with her right now. I’m thinking of how fucked up my dad’s life is at this moment. Of how much I want this shit over so we can all go back to normal and not deal with fucking clubs and death threats.
 

And something inside me snaps. I lunge forward, grabbing Wade by the collar. I shove him into the wall behind us, and the blunt falls from his hands.
 

“Whoa, whoa,” he says. “Easy, man!”
 

“Give him the money, and I won’t hurt you,” I spit out. I’ve never threatened anyone like this before. I’m not sure what to say. “Get the money, and I’ll let you live.” I shove him into the wall, and his head flops back, putting a dent in the drywall.

“Jesus, man, okay!”
 

I let him go, and he makes a move for the blunt on the floor. I catch his arm, pulling it up and bending it behind his back. “I said, get the money.”
 

“Look, I will get it to you. I…I don’t have it now!”
 

I twist his arm. This needs to end. I want to go home, to Pepper. “Find a way to get it.”
 

“Okay!” he scrambles away and makes some calls. Twenty minutes later, Wade scrounged up seventy-five grand. Hey, it’s getting there, right? We have to drive across town to one of his friends, who has the cash. I’m not convinced this isn’t a setup. Though my dad and I both know it’s a risk we have to take.
 

I don’t say a single thing as we leave. I click the seatbelt into place, ignoring my father’s praise of how well I handled myself back there. I’m so fucking angry…angry and scared. I don’t want my dad to get murdered.
 

We’re flying down the highway, going ten over the speed limit, when red and blue lights flash behind us.
 

“Goddammit,” my dad huffs, and pulls over. It’s a traffic stop, and he gets ticketed for speeding. It should be done and over, but the cop smells the weed on our clothes. We get out and the cop asks if there’s anything in the truck he should know about. My dad tells him no with a straight face. Another cop arrives for backup. We’re standing on the side of the road, waiting for the truck to be searched.
 

My phone rings, and I take a step toward the truck to answer. It’s Pepper, and I know she’s wondering why I haven’t replied to her texts. Fuck. I hate making her worry. A cop tells me to stay where I am, then calls the other officer over. I watch him pull a bag of weed from between the seat cushions.
 

“Anyone care to claim this?” one of the officers asks. My heart stops beating, and my mind is bombarded with thoughts. It’s my dad’s, and suddenly his involvement with Wade and the shitty way he looks makes a lot more sense. I’m fucking pissed as hell. My pathetic excuse of a mother was a junkie, always high on something. I went through some real shit as a child, and it was a battle to prove to the state that she wasn’t fit to raise me.

Drugs ruined her life, and almost ended mine.
 

I want him to take responsibility. I’m pissed enough to find satisfaction in watching him get handcuffed and put in the back of the police car and spend a few weeks or months in the slammer. But he can’t. If he goes to jail for this, he won’t be able to get the money and return it to the Jackals in time.
 

If he goes to jail for this, he’s a dead man walking.
 

I only have a second to make a choice: him or me. My body goes numb as I step forward. “It’s mine.”
 

Chapter Eighteen

Pepper
 

“Grayson,” I repeat. “Tell me this isn’t true.” I feel like I’m getting sucked backwards into darkness, and the world is swirling around me. Grayson isn’t a bad person. He can’t be. Not after we fixed all that was broken between us. Not after I set out on this new path of optimism, seeing the light after the storm only because he was my sun.
 

“It’s not,” he says, and blinks several times. “Not at all. That guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
 

One of the security guards comes over and grabs Olson’s arm. “Don’t touch me,” he hisses, jerking away. “You’ll see, Pepper. You’ll see I was right. Don’t come crying to me when you get mixed up in his motorcycle club drug war.”
 

“Get him out of here,” my uncle tells security. “Now!” I watch as Olson fights against the security guard, trying to convince him that he has a reservation here and that the guard has no right to make him leave.

I sink back down in my seat, covering my face with my hand. Grayson takes his seat next to me.

“Pepper, I’ll explain,” he whispers and confirms my fear. This is real. This is the truth. Grayson did all those horrible things and isn’t denying it. “Later.” He gives my thigh a squeeze and looks across the table. “I’d like to apologize on his behalf. He’s not too happy about my relationship with Pepper.”
 

“Knowing Ms. Davenwood is highly desirable perks my interest in the company even more,” Mr. Lee jokes.
 

“Don’t feel bad,” June tells me. “That made the night memorable. I knew New York wouldn’t let me down.”
 

I shake my head, knowing my cheeks are as red as my lipstick. “There are better ways to remember New York.”
 

“Hey, take it as a compliment.” She looks at Grayson. “You better treat her right. People are willing to cause a scene for her.”
 

“Pepper is the most amazing woman I’ll ever meet. I’d do more than that for her.”
 

“Awww,” June swoons. “You guys are so cute together.”
 

I force a smile and pat Grayson’s outstretched hand, but he feels like a stranger all over again. I make it through dessert—and another glass of wine—without dying of embarrassment. Grayson falls silent, only talking if asked a question. The few times I cast my eyes in his direction, he’s staring down at his plate. His chest rapidly rises and falls. Shit. This isn’t going to be good.
 

I reach for my wine, needing the alcohol to flood my heart, creating a safe landing for the pieces as they fall. Instead of shattering on impact, they’ll drown. The suffering is longer in the end, but it’s easier to jump when you think you can land in water and swim to safety.
 

We all walk out together. June and I exchange numbers, and I can’t help but think our fast friendship saved this disaster of a business meeting. My uncle hugs me goodnight, saying he’ll call me in the morning. He says it loud enough for Grayson to hear, and I’m not entirely convinced my uncle believes Olson was spitting lies.
 

“Want to walk?” Grayson asks.
 

“Yeah,” I say and his hand lands on the small of my back. I shiver and look down at my shoes, not talking. We could walk one block or a hundred, it wouldn’t change the way I feel. Grayson comes to a sudden halt.

“Pepper,” he says. I whirl around, and the constant flow of people funnels around me. “We need to talk about this.”
 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say and smile. My right eye twitches. Am I losing it? Hell, if I lose Grayson, there will be nothing left. “Fine, there’s everything to talk about.” I take a steadying breath and run my eyes over the man before me.
 

I see the child I used to run around with.
 

I see the teenager I feel in love with.
 

I see the stranger who saved me in the alley weeks ago.
 

I see the man who I love.

I don’t want that to change. The city swirls around me, and I sway in my heels. My ears rings, and I’m sure if I close my eyes, the night will swallow me whole.
 

And I’ll let it.
 

“Pepper.” Grayson’s hand lands on my shoulders. His touch is fire and ice, everything good and everything bad. I should move away, take his hands off me, tell him to leave and never come back.
 

But I can’t.
 

Instead, I’m pulled to him like a magnet, and I want nothing more than to kiss him right here and right now, forgetting everything that just happened. Darkness clouds his sky blue eyes. He stares back at me, full of guilt and regret. Those eyes that once held nothing but love and lust for me reflect back something else, something sinful. And I know without a doubt, there’s no escaping.

If he’s bad, I don’t want to be good. If he’s a sinner, I will never be a saint. Because I am completely in love with Grayson King.

“Who are you?” I whisper.

“You know who I am,” he says back, pained by my question. “You’ve always known.”
 

“No,” I say and shake my head. “I don’t anymore.”
 

Grayson’s hands slide down my arms, and he slips his fingers through mine. We move to the side of the sidewalk, out of the way of the foot traffic of busy New Yorkers.
 

“All that stuff Olson said…it’s true?”
 

Grayson looks down. “Not exactly true.”

“But partially?”
 

“I thought you saw the court documents.”
 

I blink, and then the connection hits me. “I meant I saw the court documents about your mother losing custody. That’s what the emails from our fathers were about.”
 

“Oh. Well, fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair. “That was so long ago it didn’t even occur to me. I tried to tell you, Pepper.”
 

“You did,” I say and remember it clearly. “I told you it didn’t matter. And Grayson?” I shuffle my feet and rest my hand on his chest. “It still doesn’t.”
 

“It should.” He turns away. “What I got involved with isn’t over. That’s what I was trying to tell you. You need to know the truth, Pepper. You need to know everything.”
 

My heart hammers in my chest. The night goes on around us. People talk. Laugh. Argue. Move on with their lives so blissfully unaware that everything I love is dangling by a thread.
 

“Then tell me. But first, kiss me.”
 

Grayson eyes glimmer and he bends forward, planting his lips on mine. The kiss takes me back to the night in the stable, when I knew deep down, despite the fear and apprehension, that this was it. Grayson is my all-or-nothing, my beginning and end. Without him, it would just be me because there will never be another who fits me as perfectly as he does. We were made for each other, two pieces of entirely different puzzles that come together seamlessly.
 

“I have one question,” I breathe as we break apart. “Did you sell drugs?”
 

“No,” he says firmly. “You saw what my mother was like. I still remember all the times I found her passed out on the floor with a needle in her arm. I know how destructive drugs can be. I’d never sell them so someone else can ruin their child’s life.”
 

Relief floods through me, though I know the worst is yet to come. I still don’t know what Grayson did. “You were really arrested?”
 

“Yes. I spent four years of my life behind bars.”
 

I’m not sure how to process that information. This changes everything, yet things are the same. “I don’t understand,” I say and put my head in my hands.
 

“I’ll tell you everything, Pepper. Every last fucking detail. Give me the chance to explain. You need to know it all. I served my time, but the past isn’t staying in the past.”
 

“You’re scaring me.”
 

“You should be scared.”
 

The chill is back, running rampant through me. I open my mouth to question him further, but a familiar sound sends my nerves on end. Time stands still for just a second, and a second is all that’s needed. I turn my head, following the sound of motorcycle engines echoing off the buildings, muffled by the hustle and bustle of bodies moving along the street on this hot summer night.