Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Jackson
The GHB hits Ava hard, and she’s out within seconds, her body soft and heavy in my arms. I carry her to the bed and drop her gently on top of the covers.
My eyes linger on her breasts, and I’m tempted to sample them, see if they still taste sweet.
But if I take a little, I won’t be able to stop myself from taking more, so I force myself to take a step back.
There’ll be plenty of time for that later.
My phone rings as I leave the room. It’s that blocked number again, for the third time today. I decline it without breaking my stride. Whatever it is, it can wait. Right now, I need to deal with Ember.
Downstairs, I open the front door and see her leaning against the banister, a duffel bag at her feet. Andre is standing over her with a scowl, arms crossed over his chest.
“She claims she’s your sister,” Andre says skeptically.
Em rolls her eyes. “Why are you saying it like that? Damn. I showed you my driver’s license.”
“She is my sister,” I tell Andre, my eyes never leaving Em. “What do you want?”
“I need somewhere to crash for a few days.”
Oh, fuck no.
There’s a reason I’ve never let my little sister anywhere near Rush House. This place is crawling with deviant motherfuckers. That’s on a good day. They’d eat Ember for breakfast, and knowing her… she’d probably like it.
“Not happening,” I say firmly. “You can’t stay here.”
“Wow, you are such an asshole, Jackson.”
I can’t argue with that, so I don’t.
She steps toward me. “Aren’t you at least curious why I’m here?”
“No.”
Ember is fourteen months younger than me, and she lives with Mom in the hills of Calabassis. They’re constantly getting into it over dumb shit. I’m sure they had some kind of fight, and Em, being dramatic, probably packed her bags and stormed off to prove a point.
But Rush House isn’t a fucking resort.
“Mom kicked me out,” she says.
Fuck.
“Why?”
God, I really don’t need this right now. I’ve got random calls blowing up my phone, Ava unconscious upstairs, and the leader of a rival secret society bound and bleeding in my basement now, so this isn’t exactly the best time for a house guest.
“She’s drinking again, and I called her out on it,” Em says. “She didn’t like that.”
Mom has always had a drinking problem. When we were kids, she’d go through a bottle or two of wine every night like it was water.
But after our stepfather died, she switched to vodka, and things got gnarly.
We finally got her into rehab, but now, I guess she’s drinking again.
Same shit, different day. It’s an endless cycle that never seems to break.
“You can’t stay here,” I say flatly.
Em pushes out a breath. “Then where am I supposed to go?”
“I’ll book you a hotel.”
She lifts a brow the same color as mine. When we were younger, people used to think we were twins until I outgrew her. We’ve always looked like our father.
“Jackson,” she says. “Come on, you don’t want me in a hotel, alone. It’ll just be a couple of days until Mom cools off. You know she’ll be texting me tomorrow with a million excuses and apologies.”
I’ve always watched over my little sister. A hotel alone is one thing—but Rush House? That’s a whole different kind of nightmare. She doesn’t belong here.
“Call Dad.”
“Seriously? Do you have a brain lesion? Dad is your solution? The guy who’d sell my organs as a favor to someone he met at a golf tournament?” She blinks at me, then throws her hands up. “Fine. Sorry to turn to my older brother in my time of need. I guess I’ll just figure it out on my own.”
For fuck’s sake.
She’s really slathering the guilt on thick, and what’s worse, it’s working. Just like she knew it would.
I push out a harsh breath and tilt my head back. “Fine. But you’ll stay in your fucking room the entire time you’re here.”
She squeaks and bounces on the balls of her feet. “Thank you! I’ll be good, I swear.”
I pin her down with a stern glare. “Two days,” I say. “And you won’t talk to anyone, for any reason.”
“Yup,” she says, sobering, trying not to look too excited.
“Don’t even look at anyone, Em. I’m fucking serious.”
She lifts her hands, green eyes wide. “Promise.”
Fuck, somehow I already know this is going to be a mistake.
I grab her bag, turn on my heel, and head inside. I take her up to Roman’s bedroom. He hasn’t lived here in months, since hooking up with Lux, so he won’t care. And members aren’t generally allowed upstairs, so Em’ll be good there for a couple of days.
Guilt stirs the ashes of my black soul. Em shouldn’t have to deal with Mom alone.
Living with a raging alcoholic is hellish on a good day.
And when Mom is drinking, she’s erratic, angry.
Paranoid. It was an okay arrangement when it looked like Mom was on the road to recovery, but now that she’s relapsed, I’ll have to figure out a more permanent solution for Em…
I open the bedroom door and usher her inside.
“The decor is a little too Addams Family for my taste,” she says. “But it’s nice.”
“So glad you approve,” I say dryly. “Remember what I said—you stay in this room. Don’t go poking around.”
She arches an eyebrow in challenge. “What if I’m hungry?”
“Obviously, you can go down to the kitchen, Em. Jesus. Just don’t talk to anyone.”
“So, you want me to be rude…”
Goddamnit. She’s only been here ten minutes and I’m already regretting this whole thing.
“Yes,” I snap. “Be rude.”
Before she can lob another annoying comment at me, I bail, slamming the door shut behind me. In the hallway, I take out my phone and text the guys.
My sister is staying in Roman’s room for a couple of days. Anyone who talks to her will be murdered on the spot.
I roll my shoulders, trying to work out the tension there.
It’s un-fucking-bearable. I could hit the gym, but that’s in the basement, where we’re keeping Sin.
He’s been down there for weeks now. Normally, we’d just kill him and move on.
The motherfucker turned one of our own, and when that didn’t work, he attacked Rush House. Twice.
That’s more than enough to earn a death sentence. Hell, we’ve gutted people for less. But Christian’s girl, Eve, is Sin’s sister, and she made a case for keeping the bastard breathing.
Which is a big fucking mistake. I can feel it.
But I can’t make the call alone. The Burning Crown is run by the four Sacred Sons—Lucas, Christian, Ash, and me—and the consensus was to keep him alive. For now, at least. So he’s being held in our basement, which means the basement gym isn’t the sanctuary it used to be.
No good deed goes unpunished. The theme of my fucking life…
Heading down the back staircase that leads to the kitchen, I make a beeline for the back door. Normally, I wouldn’t surf this late in the day, but it’s the only other thing that can give me refuge and get me out of my head for a while.
The air outside is crisp, and I nod to the security guy, Yates, as I head across the lawn and down the dirt path that leads to Rush Beach. This stretch of beach is private, so the second my feet hit the sand, I start stripping down.
We have our wetsuits draped over the large boulders to dry. Naked, I slide into mine, then grab my shortboard, attach the leash, and head out into the water. The second the water hits my skin, I exhale, long and slow. All the stress from the past few hours melts away.
The salt stings my skin as I paddle out, but I welcome it. The waves are choppy as fuck at this hour, and the sun is blaring down, but it doesn’t matter. The quiet tranquility the ocean offers is fucking bliss, and I just sit on my board and wait for the waves I know won’t come…
My thoughts drift to the one face that’s haunted me for years now…
Ava.
For so long, she was this ethereal figure in my head, just a fleeting memory of the one time in my life when I was actually fucking happy. Until the fates intervened and my entire world went to shit…
Now, that ethereal ghost from my past is upstairs.
In my bed.
And she hates me.
How’s that for luck? The one person who’s ever felt like home hates my guts. But how can I blame her? Hell, I’d hate me too if I were in her shoes.
I’m out on the ocean for a couple of hours, and there isn’t one wave worth catching. Eventually, I paddle back to shore. When I get there, Christian is sitting on the sand.
“The waves are shit today.” He leans back casually, squinting against the sun.
I’m dripping wet, and I don’t have a towel. I remove the leash and set my board aside, then pull my wetsuit down to my hips. “Tell me something I don’t already know,” I say, sinking down next to him. “I needed to get some fresh air, clear my head.”
“Going that well with Ava, eh?”
“She’s pissed, but she’ll get over it eventually.”
Christian laughs. “That’s not my experience with women, but whatever. Speaking of problems that don’t go away easily…” He tosses Ava’s phone in my lap. “I handled the texts like you asked.”
Thankfully, she hadn’t changed her security code in three years.
“Thanks. What’d you tell them?”
Christian shrugs. “That she’s feeling overwhelmed, needs a break, and crashed at a friend’s place last night. But, dude, that story is only going to work for two, maybe three days tops. Eventually, the dad and the boyfriend are going to start asking questions.”
Ava’s phone feels heavy in my hand. “No worries. I’ve got things under control.”
Christian has his arms flung over his knees, looking at me. “So, um, I heard from Roman that Byron’s been asking questions about the article. About Missouri.”
Byron Pembroke is a member of the Burning Crown’s senior council—the older generation, who’ve earned their seats through blood and years of service.
Of course, Byron would be sniffing around. The Senior Council has eyes everywhere.
My jaw tightens. “What kind of questions?”
“The kind that suggests old business might not be as buried as we thought.” Christian hands me the blunt. “But don’t worry about it, man. Whatever’s going on, we’ll figure it out.”
Yeah, I’m not so sure. And I can’t count on that.
I stand, my thoughts racing ahead to what needs to happen next. I’ve always been a planner, someone who maps out every angle, who never leaves anything to chance. And I’m sure as fuck not going to start now.
But, damn, Ava is going to hate me for this.
“I’ve gotta run,” I say, already moving toward the house.
“Shit. What are you planning?” Christian calls after me.
“Something I should have done years ago,” I call back.