CHAPTER NINETEEN
JAMES
I wrestle with memories of things I’ve seen, things I’ve done, secrets I don’t have the balls to say out loud. And I’m not alone in that.
“If we’re heading north to that town you told me about, these two trucks need to run like a dream,” Ryan says, his voice muffled as he works under the hood of the old blue pickup.
“You got everything you need to get it done?” I ask, leaning against the side of the truck.
He pops out from under the hood and chucks a wrench into the toolbox before grabbing another. “Yeah, they’ll run clean. Just need a few more days.” He’s already back under the hood before I can say anything else.
The beat-up speaker Lorelai found stuffed in the back of a kitchen cupboard plays from somewhere under the hood.
The thing hadn’t worked in years, but Ryan got it going again by hooking it up to the truck battery to recharge it.
It had a few songs saved in its memory; just eight or nine tracks.
“Just the Way” by Parmalee comes on. My foot taps lightly to the beat without thinking.
Then my eyes wander, and they land exactly where they always do—on her.
Sarah’s on the dock by the lake with Lorelai, kneeling behind her, carefully braiding Lorelai’s fire-red hair and letting a few bangs fall into her eyes.
Lorelai’s talking nonstop, her lips moving a mile a minute.
Whatever she’s saying has Sarah laughing so hard she keeps losing her place in the braid.
Sarah’s got her hair in her usual two long braids trailing down her back. Today, though, she’s tucked flowers into them. White petals are scattered through the strands, giving her the look of a summer fairy.
She’s wearing this green dress that matches her eyes perfectly. She’s absolutely breathtaking. Even from across the yard, she sets something on fire inside me, and I’m already starving for her.
My eyes stay on Sarah until she catches my gaze, and I swear she reads my mind, because she flashes me the sexiest grin I’ve ever seen.
I bite my lip, practically tasting her skin on my tongue. My thoughts are pure sin now, and she knows it. So I don’t even bother hiding it. I straight-up eye-fuck her.
My eyes rake over every curve of her body, every spot I’m dying to touch. I can almost feel my hands gripping her thighs, spreading them open as her legs wrap around me, pulling me in.
That dress she’s wearing? It’s a goddamn crime. It clings to her curves like it was painted on, practically begging to be ripped off.
And I will.
The second I’ve got her alone, I’m tearing it away, leaving nothing but her bare skin under my hands, under my mouth.
I’ll trace every inch of her with my tongue, start at her neck, linger at her nipples, then move lower, until I’m exactly where I want to be on the heat of her pussy, hearing her scream my name as I drive her wild.
She keeps watching me. Watching the way I devour her with my eyes. And I know she’s thinking about it too. Her gaze moves over my arms, lingering on the muscles she always grabs when we’re tangled up together, drinking me in the way I do with her.
I can see her arching her back, wanting my mouth on her.
I’d suck on her nipples until they’re hard, her skin flushed and hot.
She always gets soaked after that, coming fast the second I slide my thumb over her clit or finally sink into her while she moves her hips in that insane, desperate way that wrecks me—
“Are you two having sex with your eyes or what?” Ryan’s voice cuts through the haze, his smirk practically audible.
Jesus Christ!
I clamp my mouth shut, trying to play it cool, even though I just spaced out for five whole minutes and forgot Ryan was standing right next to me.
“Man, teach me that trick,” Ryan adds, his grin spreading.
“What trick? What are you two staring at?” Michael asks, stepping up outta nowhere, his cap pulled low, shadowing half his face.
Shit! I jerk my head away from Sarah so fast I might’ve sprained something.
I choke on nothing, coughing like an idiot. Ryan loses it, laughing his ass off at my misery.
“Nothing, Michael,” Ryan says, still laughing.
Michael gives us a suspicious look, but before he can start grilling me, Ryan distracts him.
“Hey, hand me that screwdriver,” he says, nodding toward the toolbox by Michael’s feet.
They go back to chatting about whatever Ryan’s working on, passing tools back and forth like none of that just happened.
I shake it off and cross my arms, finally able to breathe now that we’re off that topic.
But when my eyes flick to Lorelai by the lake, my mind drifts back to the parking lot.
It wasn’t just Sarah who got hurt back there.
I saw blood on Lorelai’s mouth. Sarah told me one of Axel’s men slapped Lorelai, and the thought makes my jaw clench.
I glance over at Ryan, then back at the lake. “Ryan, I’m sorry about what happened to Lorelai in the parking lot,” I say quietly. “She got hurt ’cause she’s my friend, and I hate that it happened.”
I wait for a reaction, but Ryan doesn’t even look up. He keeps his head buried in the engine under the hood, the clink of tools filling the silence until he finally speaks.
“You don’t have to apologize, James. You saved us in that pharmacy. We’re with you, man. Don’t tear yourself up over it.”
Michael steps up next to Ryan, peering under the hood with him. “So… how’d you end up with Aaron’s gang anyway? You don’t seem like the kind of guy who’d run with a crew like that.”
Ryan stops what he’s doing and pulls himself out from under the hood. He wipes his oil-stained hands on a rag, his face tense, like he’s debating whether or not to spill.
I don’t push him. Some stories are just hard to tell. We’ve all got our secrets, our demons. I just wonder if any of mine are anything like his.
I was never part of a gang. Never followed their rules, never wanted to. But Ryan? He was part of Aaron’s gang. So was Lorelai. And they broke the rules—Aaron’s rules.
“I’ve always been a loner,” Ryan says, running a hand through his blond hair. “But being alone was hell in its own way. Finding food was hard enough, and shelter was even worse.”
I know exactly what he means; desperation messes with you.
“Aaron found me hiding out in one of his workshops. I wasn’t looking to join or anything, but…
” He shrugs. “…I figured maybe being around them would give me some kind of purpose. It wasn’t perfect.
Not even close. They raided towns, took what they wanted, killed anyone who got in their way.
I didn’t want any part of it, but by the time I figured that out… ”
His voice fades, and he doesn’t even bother finishing.
And I don’t need him to. I already know what made him stay.
Lorelai.
Ryan clears his throat, twisting the rag in his hands like he’s trying to strangle the thoughts out of his head.
“Fuck, Aaron had a ton of rules. You didn’t work, you didn’t eat.
Slipped up once? You didn’t sleep. And if you broke the rules?
The punishment was brutal. He’d beat you ’til you blacked out.
And if you didn’t help punish someone, you were the next one bleeding.
” He shakes his head. “Easy food and shelter made you fall in line real quick, man. Aaron had a whole damn building and enough food to last a year. But…”
He nods toward the dock, where the girls are still in their own world. “The only thing I saw was her. Lorelai. She wasn’t just his girl. He treated her like his property, his trophy, something he owned. And he loved shoving that in everyone’s face.”
I don’t know how Ryan didn’t lose his mind seeing that every day.
Ryan leans back against the pickup. “Lorelai bossed everyone around that place. For weeks, every time I walked into her kitchen, we’d be at each other’s throats.
” He lets out a short laugh, but it fades quickly.
“She was the only one who never took part in the punishments. Never laid a hand on anyone, and Aaron didn’t make her.
She didn’t even have to work. She just cooked our meals because she wanted to.
Made me wonder… what rules did she have to follow? ”
Ryan draws in a shaky breath, shoulders stiff.
“One day, I walked past her room and heard crying. Aaron came out holding a belt, wet with blood. I’ll never forget the look on his face.
He looked proud, like he’d just finished fixing something broken.
Through a crack in the door, I saw her, curled up on the floor, way in the corner.
Her dress was torn at the shoulder, and she was crying so softly it barely sounded human.
That’s when I realized he hurt her too.”
I don’t even realize my fists are clenched until my knuckles start to ache.
“The next morning, I found her in the kitchen. It was early, still dark outside, and she was singing. Like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t been beaten to the ground twelve hours earlier by that bastard.
I asked if I could help her make lunch, and she just…
stared. Like I was speaking another language.
I don’t think anyone had ever asked her that before. ”
Ryan gives a half-smile.
“We talked. Not small talk. Real talk. She told me about her mom, how she learned to cook every meal from her. I told her about my dad, how he used to let me hand him tools while he fixed cars. We talked about dreams, favorite colors, songs we missed. She told me about going to Disneyland when she was eleven. Said it was the last time she felt safe.”
He chuckles softly, almost to himself. “It was… good. She was good. After that, I’d get up early, earlier than anyone.
And she’d already be there, humming to herself, moving like she belonged in that kitchen.
But I still didn’t know the rules she had to follow.
I kept wondering what she did to make Aaron angry. What mistake got her punished.”
He pauses, twisting the rag in his hands like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.
“She used to ask me to grab stuff from the storage shed. Just little things—extra salt, oil, whatever. I didn’t think anything of it.
Until one day, I realized she never left the building.
Not once. Even when the rest of us were out in the courtyard, she’d just stand there, watching through the window.
That’s when I figured it out the one rule she could never break… ”
“…leave,” I finish for him. “She could never leave.”
Ryan stares at the ground. “Yeah.”
Michael’s eyes meet mine for half a second, but we don’t say a word. I know we’re both thinking the same thing.
I glance toward Lorelai, trying to picture her trapped like that. I hate the image.
“I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t fight them all.
I would’ve lost. They’d have killed me, and she’d still be stuck there with Aaron,” Ryan says, finally looking up at us.
“So I went to Aaron and asked: How much? How much for her? Like she was just something you could buy. A fucking thing. It was the only way I could think of to get her out. To take her away from that place.”
Michael and I don’t say a word. We just let him talk.
“He gave me a price. A job,” Ryan says, bitterness bleeding into every word. “But the job was a lie.”
He shakes his head, eyes haunted as hell.
“Three days, man. I left her with him for three goddamn days. When I walked back into that building at sunrise, it was like stepping into my worst nightmare. She was in the kitchen, but she wasn’t singing anymore.
And when I saw what he’d done to her… I fucking lost it.
She could barely walk. Her face was covered in bruises.
He broke her for three days straight, and made the others watch.
And no one did a damn thing to stop him. ”
Michael bites his lip, holding back the string of curses I know he’s dying to let loose. I don’t blame him. I mutter one under my breath, too.
I glance back at the dock, where Sarah’s handing Lorelai a flower.
She takes the jasmine, cups it in both hands, and breathes it in.
Then she flashes this big, radiant smile.
She’s been through hell and somehow made it back.
How many people can survive what she’s lived through and still have that smile?
Ryan’s jaw tightens as he scratches at his beard. “When we finally got out, we laid low in that town. If it hadn’t been for you guys that day…”
He trails off, leaving the rest unsaid. Sometimes silence is louder than words, especially when you’ve lived through the kind of shit we’ve seen.
We hear laughter, light and carefree. When we turn toward the dock, we see the girls peeling off their dresses, standing there in nothing but their underwear. Wild. Happy. Safe. Free.
“Sarah! I already told you to swing into the lake with clothes on!” Michael shouts, his hands on his hips like some overworked dad.
“Just pretend it’s a bikini, Michael!” Sarah shouts back. Then, grinning like the troublemaker she is, she adds, “Annoy me again, and I’ll swing in naked!”
“Little shit,” Michael grumbles, stomping off toward the house.
Sarah laughs, her eyes finding mine again, and I smile back.
“Yoo-hoo, boys!” Lorelai waves a hand dramatically in our direction. “We’re half-naked and waiting!”