9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Lilli
On Monday I sail into school on a mission. I don’t know if it’s possible what Mama is contemplating but I’m not going to stand by and watch it happen.
I leave Rachel trailing behind me and stalk up to Darcy, who’s standing on the street, just off school property to smoke a cigarette.
“Darcy!” I say and she looks up before shaking her head.
“No fucking way, Lilli. I’m done. Find your own way back to your sister. I’m fresh out of fucks to give.”
Wincing, I grab her arm and say, “Please. It’s important, like life or death.”
“Seriously? What could possibly be life or death in your fucking world,” she sneers, and I step back, waving my arm.
“Lots of stuff,” I mutter, and she eyes me for a moment, while I stand rigidly. I know I messed whatever up with Wolf, but that hardly matters in the face of what my own parents plan to do to my sister.
It’s so heinous I don’t even want to consider it and with a shudder, I curl my fingers into my palms. If she can’t help me, I’ll find another way. I have to.
Darcy must sense my internal struggle, or she sees the desperation in my eyes because her gaze flickers over my shoulder and back before her shoulders slump.
Mentally fist bumping the air, I nod profusely as she says, “Fine. Friday. But if you tell Wolf…”
“I won't. Promise.” But I don’t know if I can keep that promise because this isn’t about my desire for adventure. This is about my sister now.
Which is why, by Friday, I’m ready to see this through and I wait until I’m sure the house is down for the night before sneaking out the window.
Thankfully, I had the outfit Darcy gave me last time and I cringed my way through putting it on before donning the heels and making my way to the other side of the park.
I still feel naked with nothing but the tube top covering my boobs and my feet instantly ache in the shoes, but I set it aside for my mission.
We meet at our usual spot, and I wince at the thought as I slide into her car. Sneaking out once, even twice is one thing but the more that number piles up, the higher the odds of getting caught.
I’m riding a thin line which disappears altogether when Darcy mutters and pulls the wheel, making a sharp turn back the way we came. When she does, her headlights illuminate the vehicle sitting in a vacant lot across the way, revealing the sheriff himself sitting behind the wheel.
Darcy doesn’t seem to notice but I sink in my seat and pray to god that he didn’t recognize me as she speeds down the street and makes a right.
This is so, not good but there’s nothing I can do now and I’m not exactly on a joyride. I have to warn my sister.
Despite agreeing to help me, Darcy remains cool, and I content myself with watching the scenery fly by while my thoughts race with all the scenarios of what might happen if the sheriff saw me.
The easy answer is a beating. But will I get the closet this time? No food or water for a few days…or something worse.
Shuddering at the thought, I welcome the intrusion when Darcy pulls into a spot amongst a sea of cars, and I glance around. There’s not much to see but an open field with several bonfires and people surrounding them.
Music pulses from across the field and I spy Janette Magan bouncing around to the beat.
Darcy leads me to another fire and wanders off for drinks while I scan the crowd.
Despite the hour that I spend searching face after face, I don’t see any Saints here and with a groan, I drop to the log and grab my head.
Why didn’t we go to the track? Why did she bring me here?
It’s not like I can ask because I had to beg her to do it in the first place. Gah.
The fire pops while I stare at it absently. When someone drops down beside Darcy, I hear the soft lull of her voice.
What am I going to do if Miriam doesn’t show? Shoot, I have to speak to her.
“Hey, don’t I know you?” Twisting around, I meet the gaze of Darcy’s companion.
Whoever he is, he doesn’t go to our school, and I can’t say I have any desire to know him either way. He scratches his head, and I eye the greasy locks hanging in his face while he flicks the ring in his tongue.
Mustering a wan smile, I shake my head, while he looks at me with a quizzical smile. When Darcy frowns at me before summoning a breathy laugh and smacking his arm, I stand.
“I have to use the bathroom,” I murmur, and she waves me away.
Clutching my beer, I wobble off stiffly, glancing back to find him still staring at me.
Shoot. She’s going to be so mad at me.
After weaving into the crowd, I relax marginally although I do catch myself stumbling twice in Darcy’s wretched heels.
Once I’m far enough out, I find an out-of-the-way spot at the edge of the crowd and continue my search. I still need to find Miriam, but I don’t know how with so many people here.
To my right, a girl in a stretchy red dress and canvas sneakers drops to the ground before vomiting into the grass. I curl my nose and turn away, although I am jealous of her choice of footwear as I step wrong and my ankle rolls.
“Shoot,” I mumble. This was a bust. Maybe I should go back to Darcy? But no, I can’t give up, not yet. There are so many people here, Miriam may be amongst them.
A half hour later, I’m still sipping on my tepid beer and shifting on my uncomfortable feet when a low rumble starts as a wave that rises to a crescendo. All at once people are running in different directions.
I stumble back when I’m pushed this way and that, searching out the source of the noise but it’s no use, and rather than be trampled I turn with the tide.
I’m no good in these shoes though and I pull them off, clutching them in my hand as I follow the crowd.
Someone shoves me from behind, screams erupt, and I trip, hitting my head on the side of a car. Wincing, I curl against the metal and try to avoid the feet all around me.
Another wail rings out and I cringe, waiting for whatever to come to me. Shouts sound overhead, someone kicks me in the knee, and with a sob, I cover my head.
“Go, go!” I’m pulled from my crouch by the arm and shoved forward. I have no choice but to go as the distinct crack of a gun reverberates behind me.
I stumble again and right myself before I spot a tall, dark form in the crowd. He’s fighting the masses, headed the wrong way.
With a surge of relief, I twist by a couple running hand in hand, and scrabble onto the hood of a car, screaming, “Wolf!”
I don’t know how he hears me, but he does. He swings around, his eyes narrow and he starts shoving people out of his way as he approaches.
I suspect it’s not endearments he’s muttering but I’m too relieved to care.
Finally, he reaches me, still sitting on the hood of the car, and sweeps me up in his arms. I cling to him like a monkey as he barks, “What the hell are you doing here?”
It’s too loud to respond and he doesn’t seem interested in the answer when he carries me away. With my arms and legs wrapped around him, I bury my head in his chest, trembling like a leaf.
After a few dozen feet, he slows but I don’t let go of my death grip until he grabs my hair and pulls my head back.
“What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing. Here?” He enunciates every word but I’m past worrying about his anger and shaking my head, I drop back to his chest.
His arms are rigid around me before his sigh parts my hair and he starts walking again. Meanwhile, the screams of party-goers ring in my ears while I squeeze my eyes shut and pray, we get out of here in one piece.
Wolf has to peel me from his body when we finally stop and I reluctantly let go, as he drops me to my feet.
“Well? Why the hell would you come here?” he growls.
Glancing back, I stare at the melee, wincing when a girl drops to her knees and the guy behind her follows. The two tumble into a heap and I gasp as Wolf grabs my chin and pulls me around.
“Well?” he asks, and I search his stern gaze before I remember why I came and reach for his hand.
“My sister…Mir,” I say. “I need to talk to her.”
His brows furrow and he looks over the crowd of people running every which way before he sighs and says, “C’mon.”
Relieved, I nod, shifting on my sore feet. When he glances down, his brows slam over his eyes, and he says, “Where are your shoes?”
Dumbly I stare at my feet. I hope Darcy wasn’t attached to her shoes.
Wolf growls, growls! And I snap my head up with wide eyes. He huffs and spins around surveying the fleeing masses before snapping, “You.”
But whoever he was calling out to doesn’t stop and he mutters, “Fuck.”
Next, he grabs the arm of a girl about my age, and she shrieks as he barks, “Give me your shoes.”
“Wh-What?” she stutters.
“The shoes,” he says, and she shrinks away.
A guy stumbles up next to her, staring at Wolf wide-eyed before saying, “Give him your shoes, Amy.”
She shoots him a look of utter disbelief, but he nods and with a frown, she sits on the ground. After pulling off each boot, she tosses them to Wolf who catches them with a grunt and turns away.
Dumbfounded, I watch them jog off and call out, “Th-Thank you.”
When Wolf rolls his eyes, I give him a good frown which he’s immune to as he hands me the shoes. To be clear, they’re not cute little boots, and I struggle to get them on because they go all the way to my thighs.
Wolf waits impatiently if his scowl is anything to go by. Surprisingly, they fit well but I feel out of my element when I stand and glance down.
Hm.
Wolf makes a weird noise in the back of his throat and when I look up, I freeze at the molten fire staring back at me. His nostrils flare as he stares at the boots, leading up my legs, over my bare stomach, and stopping on my chest.
My nipples peak and I suppress a whimper when his glittering eyes meet mine, his pupils blown.
We stare at each other with a message I can’t decipher but my body recognizes it just the same and I’m about to fall into his arms when he comes to his senses and shakes his head.
Grabbing my arm, he pulls me around and taps my head, saying, “Ain’t got no brain bucket. You’ll have to ride bare.”
He pauses after his statement before his brows twitch, and he straddles the bike. Nodding because I assume he’s talking about a helmet, I follow as he urges me to slide in behind him.
“Feet here,” he rasps.
Once I’m situated, he starts the bike, the low rumble vibrating between my thighs. Suppressing a gasp, I wrap my arms around his waist as we roll away and he says, “Hold on tight.”
He’s nice and warm and I snuggle deep as the world whips around us but he’s so big, he shields most of the wind. Which is good because I’m not dressed for a moonlight bike ride.
Once we’re free of the crowd, he accelerates and I squeak, hanging on tight. We fly down the highway, the sound of his bike loud and I raise my head, a huge smile overtaking my face. I feel weightless as he takes the turns, my heart in my throat while I stare at the stars above me.
This is freedom and the aching ball in my chest unravels the further we go. I never want the moment to end. I’m on the back of a biker's ride, with the wind in my hair. I can hardly believe it.
By the time we reach our destination, the events at the field have faded. My skin is buzzing with excitement and my heart feels like it might fly from my chest.
Wolf makes a turn, and I tighten my grip, staring at the man at the gate as Wolf accelerates toward a building beyond. The man raises a fist and grins, the piercing in his lip undulating under the movement.
When we stop, Wolf kicks the stand and waves at me. With a smile, I dismount and turn toward what I presume to be the entrance.
We’re parked outside a squat building surrounded by bikes with the rough sound of heavy metal music thumping from within. I admire the chrome and leather before turning toward the party.
Anticipation zings in my veins until Wolf grabs my arm and says, “Hold up.”
When I look into his eyes, I suppress a shiver at his stern beauty while my stomach swoops at his proximity. I can smell his cologne or maybe it’s just him, leather, and something spicy but it fills my nose and makes my knees weak.
His brows lower the longer I stare, and he looks away, working his jaw. After a deep exhalation he says, “You’re here to see your sister only. You’re lucky I brought you, at all. Don’t mingle. Don’t drink. Just…don’t.”
With a trickle of disappointment, I dip my chin, but he chuffs. “Don’t even. I told you—“
“Yes, I don’t belong,” I say in a chilly tone. “Can we get this over with?”
Maybe I wear long shirts to cover my skin, and I’m not allowed to have my hair down. Maybe I say shoot and can’t hold my alcohol but I’m not what he thinks.
I don’t belong here. Fine but I don’t belong in that other world either. I guess I don’t belong anywhere.
Wolf grabs my chin, his eyes glittering, and I suck in a breath, both fear and arousal tumbling through me. “No back talking. I don’t like it.”
“Right. Got it.” I know my tone is snotty, but the man is getting on my last nerve.
I understand I shouldn’t be here. He doesn’t want me here. Can’t he leave me alone to lick my wounds?
“…annoying as fuck,” he huffs and I blink, following along as he pulls me through the entrance.
The sound immediately assails me, the heavy guitar riffs pounding in my ears. A low haze hangs in the air and the bitter tang of alcohol tingles my nose.
To my right is a bar, with a fierce-looking guy behind it. He’s pouring a drink, his meaty hands engulfing the bottle of alcohol. I trace his tattoos with my eyes before turning to my left.
Two pool tables sit surrounded by more burly men and women in slinky dresses and short shorts. Beyond is a series of couches, with writhing couples, some in a tangle of limbs I can’t piece apart.
I spy a dangling appendage and squeak averting my gaze as heat fills my cheeks.
Wolf is walking ahead of me, and I follow blindly before my gaze lands on a man across the way. He’s sitting on a stool, his face twisted in a painful grimace with a woman who’s got her head in his lap. It’s both beautiful and raw.
I’m pulled from my reverie when Wolf grabs my chin and says, “Eyes on me.”
“Why?” I ask, the words popping out of their own volition.
His brows lower and he growls, grabbing the back of my head as he leans in and says against my lips. “You wanna watch him get sucked off, baby girl?”
“I-I,” I stutter and his eyes shutter.
“That’s what I thought. Jail-fucking-bait.”
I admit, I looked up the word after the last time, which is why I say, “I’m eighteen.”
He huffs out a breath and grabs my hand, pulling me through the main area and down a long hallway. It’s darker here, with a series of doors all closed.
My feet ache in the tall boots and I’m sure I look like a rooster trying to walk in them, which is why I sigh in relief when he stops at the last door and flings it open.
It’s a room with a king-size bed, dresser, and not much else. It smells of him though and I breathe it in as I step inside, my eyes glued to that bed.
It’s big enough for both of us.
“Stay here,” he says, and I turn in time for him to close the door in my face.
Shoot.