“How considerate of you, but it would’ve been more likely that he’d be carrying my dead body over his shoulder than making me moan in pleasure.”
“I seriously wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” she mutters.
I shrug. “It’s not like I was giving all the sordid details away.”
“Not that,” she says, setting the remote down between us. “Stop joking about him killing you.”
She’s right. I’ve mentioned, at least a handful of times the last week about her brother hurting me, and not just through heartbreak. I’m tense, on edge, wondering what’s going to happen. I want to be gone, a million miles away before he finds out what my dad did, what my dad is forcing me to do. He won’t forgive me. According to the loose-lipped girls in the clubhouse, he’s not exactly known for leniency.
“Are you sure you want to hang out in here?” Looking around, I see it’s nothing like a civilian den. There aren’t family pictures or hard-earned trophies from grade school. There isn’t any décor meant to soften the place up like I’m used to seeing in family dens, but the motorcycle memorabilia scattered around and adorning the walls fit in perfectly, considering where we are.
“Here’s fine,” she mutters distracted with her gaze focused on the curtain-covered window. The clubhouse is on the other side. Briar is over there. He had to have arrived with Lynch, and everyone knows he’s the one guy who wasn’t pining for pussy like the others the second they hit the kickstands on their bikes.
“If you want to see him,” I whisper since I’ve discovered the walls have ears. “I can think of a way to distract your brother.”
Why in the ever-loving hell am I offering to interact on any level with Lynch?
“I bet you can,” she snorts comically before her eyes turn serious and focus on me. “You need to stop mentioning Briar. Don’t bring him up in conversation. Don’t try to help me out where he’s concerned.”
“You love him,” I urge.
“I can’t,” she insists.
“Doesn’t make it any less true.”
She’s hurting. I’ve seen it each and every day since we arrived. The only time she’s able to breathe a sigh of relief is when he’s gone, and even then, I can see the worry in her eyes, as if she’s terrified that he won’t return. It’s almost as strong as her worry that he will.
“Fine,” I agree. “I won’t bring him up again on one condition.”
Her eyes narrow, and even though I know I’m wasting my breath, I still whisper my ultimatum.
“You have to help me get out of here.”
“Nope.” She shakes her head violently. “That’s as dangerous as bringing Briar up around my brother. Not going to happen.”
“I don’t even know why I’m stuck here to begin with,” I argue. “Do you know something I don’t know?”
“Lynch knows about Andover, which means he knows about the fire.” I consider the information. “If he’s making us stay here, it’s for our own safety.”
“Nobody died in that fire,” I remind her.
We’d spent hours scouring the internet the day after we got here, and for days after, looking for information.
“We weren’t even listed as suspects.”
My father knew about it, but even as much as he scares me, I know deep down that he’d never let anything happen to me.
He put you in the middle of a one-percent MC.
I shake my head to dissolve those thoughts. Dads protect their children, right?
I know that’s not true. Molly’s dad, by her own account, was awful.
My younger sister, the one I like to pretend doesn’t exist because of everything she’s been given, all of the same things I shunned growing up, has a good dad. My stepfather, William, is a good man. He never looked at me funny or raised his voice at me, not like my own father did. Life with them was too perfect. It’s the main reason I accepted when my dad teased me with the idea of boarding school.
“It doesn’t matter. If Lynch wants you here, here is where you’ll be.”
I let it drop. There’s no point in arguing. Things are perfect. Other than being able to leave, I get to do what I want. I’m not harmed or starved. I’m not mistreated or disrespected. Not counting the way Lynch has treated me, I’ve got a pretty good thing going, but all of that will change soon. I can’t tell Molly what’s going on. When put to the test, I know her loyalty will lie exactly where it should, with her family.Chapter 33Lynch
The odd, jovial mood that filled my lungs when I returned home two days ago was knocked out of me the second I found Candi upstairs packing her things. It was replaced by an acrid taste in my mouth, one that tried to force me to spill my fucking guts, to tell her how I feel, to whisper all my worries.