17. Guilt & Slim
-Jade-
It’s been three weeks since returning to campus and it feels weird without the guys. Being here alone makes me miss them even more. I can’t shake the feeling of being watched, or maybe I’m just paranoid. I’ve barely spoken to Kayla, and not for any other reason other than I just need time alone, so I’ve been staying at the house with the dogs. My heart feels empty; it hits me in spurts. What the fuck did I do? That’s what keeps replaying over and over in my head. How could I do those things, and say all those words, without remorse? Some nights, when I’m not high, I lie awake crying because I miss them. I miss them so fucking much. I wipe a stray tear from my eye.
I look up to the sky as I sit in my backyard and whisper, “I’m sorry,” as another tear slides down my cheek. I swipe at it. I need to get my shit together. So, to quiet my regrets, I went to see Monty this week. I’ve got a couple of Black Beauties left, but they are just not doing it for me at the moment. They keep me awake and focused, but the more I take, the more I need. I need something stronger. He was out of the injectables, so I copped three eight balls off of him. I’ve had a few nose bleeds, so I need to make sure I’m not snorting too much at once. Divvying a line, I take a hundred-dollar bill out and rail the Snow up my nose in one quick hit. I’m a mess. I know I am, but this is the only way to deal with everything that has happened. Did they all need to die? D’mitri absolutely did. He hurt me much worse than anyone else ever has, and I don’t regret his death at all. I wish I could have handed my father his head. But the guys; MY guys? Fuck! I don’t even want to think anymore.
So here I am, masking the pain, hurt, and emptiness of it all with drugs. Numbing myself daily is much better than actually feeling. If I feel, then I lose it, and I cannot afford to lose it any longer. I lay out another line, making this one thicker than the previous one, take my bill and rail the Snow up my nose again. I revel in the slight burn as the powder glides up my nostrils. Feeling the drug hit me like a train and swallowing the drip in the back of my throat is like heaven. All the worries and emptiness I felt just moments ago, seem to vanish. I lean back in my chair and look out into the yard. I swear I saw movement beyond the trees, but the dogs are in the yard; all three would have alerted me if there was an intruder.
I had to implement a new security system since every day this week, after leaving the Academy, I came home to a bloody rose on my pillow. It wasn’t until last night that whoever it was, left me a note. “Soon.” That’s all it said. The new system has cameras that I had Oscar hide all over the house and perimeter of the property. Only I have the login and password to watch the live feed. Whoever it is, will be caught in no time. My main concern was how the fuck they were getting into my house and past the dogs. The dogs are trained to kill intruders, hence why I don’t bring strange people into my home. I introduce the ones I trust, otherwise, it’s fair game for my babies. I look down at my phone to see that it’s almost time for me to head to the clubhouse. It’s Thanksgiving, and my dad requires my presence. I would rather stay home, but he said he had a surprise for me. Tonight will either be fun as fuck, or I’ll end up killing a member; honestly, it can go either way. The club wants him to step down and retire after the shit he did. Even if it was warranted, he still went against the code. But for him to step down, my brother Ryker needs to step into the fold, along with the process of being stripped of his patch. I’m not sure when this is going to happen. I’m not even supposed to be privy to this information, but I have my ways.
I get up from the chair and grab my keys to leave. I whistle out for the boys so I can bring them inside to guard the house. They come barreling in, knowing they are going to get a treat. Augustus nudges my thigh, wanting attention. He seems sad lately, constantly waiting by the front door. I bend down to give him some lovin’ and he licks my face. Why does he smell like Spade??I shake the thought from my head and hand them all a treat. I grab the keys off my entryway table but stop when I hear Apollo growling at the back door. Removing my gun from its holster, I walk over to where he is. He stands between my legs protectively as I peer out the window and see nothing. I check to make sure the door is double-locked. I look down at Apollo, scratching his head, and tell him, “Buachaill maith.” I give the boys another round of treats before heading out. I get into my SUV, put the key in the ignition, and she purrs to life.
I jump out of my skin at how loud the music is. I don’t remember leaving the volume this fucking high. But what really has a shiver running up my spine, is the song blaring through the speakers. Is this a fucking joke? “Feel Me Now” by If Not For Me, blares through my speakers. I try to lower the volume because I cannot listen to this right now. The same lyrics keep playing, over and over, again; I can’t shut it off. The volume gets louder as I pull out of the driveway. I try again to shut it off, but it won’t fucking stop. All the lights flicker on the dash. What the fuck is going on? An ominous robotic voice speaks through the car.
“I’m coming for you!” The voice laughs sinisterly. Then everything stops. The music turns off and then silence. Suddenly, static starts blaring through the speakers, my breathing picks up, and my chest tightens. Did I just imagine all of this? This must be some strong Snow because there is no way that just happened. Taking a deep breath, I focus on trying to get a grasp on reality. I really want to snort another line, but I’m driving, so that can’t happen. I grab a Black Beauty from my center console, place it on my tongue, and chug it with the water bottle in my cup holder. Reaching over to my glove box and grabbing the pack of cigarettes I stashed there earlier in the week; I take one out and light it up. Sitting at a red light, I lean my head back against the headrest and take a deep inhale, letting the minty nicotine hit my lungs. I exhale and press on the gas. I turn the radio back on, putting a random station on. Of course, it would land on an ad for Senator Callaghan and his stupid fucking rallies. The stupid fuck is trying to run for president.?I don’t have the energy even to deal. Clicking on another station, it’s no use. I’m damn near almost to the compound, and the music will be jumping in there. It’s Thanksgiving, after all, and I just hope I don’t have to watch my father get his dick sucked by any of the croweaters; he can take that shit somewhere else.I finish the cigarette and chuck it out of the window. I enter the compound and pull into a spot. Shutting the car off, I look in the mirror; the girl I see is not the same one I’m used to. I reach into my center console and grab my eyeliner, mascara, and ruby-red lipstick. I give myself a winged look with thick black lines on my eyes, finishing it with black mascara and painting my lips. I throw my long hair up in a bun and exit the car. I’m wearing fishnet stockings, short black jean shorts, and a black racerback tank top, with my holster hidden under my red cut. My black docs hit the pavement, and as I walk over to the clubhouse doors, I can feel the vibration from the music playing beyond them.
I take a deep breath and pull them open. I’m assaulted by all the bodies in the room and the smell of alcohol, mary, and turkey. Rolling my eyes. I notice my brothers are nowhere to be seen. They are avoiding me. I sigh. Hopefully, they are occupying Kayla tonight. I know she’s not eating dinner with her parents. She despises them for what they do, but I know there is more to it; she’s just never told me throughout all these years. I really miss my bestie, but I just need time. My father is sitting around a table with a bunch of men from a different chapter. He glances my way, blowing me a kiss; I catch it, put it in my pocket, and roll my eyes. It’s something we have done since I was a little girl. Weasel has his face buried in some pussy, and Slash is behind the bar, looking stressed. Damien and Fischer sit on the opposite side with girls in their laps while the other men are playing cards. Croweaters riddle the place, dancing around aimlessly. Tables and tables of food line up against the far back wall. It makes me think of all the times my mother hosted the holidays here. How all the old ladies always helped one another and made all the food. The croweaters were always put to work. It was hilarious to watch. None of them could hack it as an old lady. It takes a certain kind of female to enter that role.
I take off my cut, leaning it against the bar. No one will touch it, not unless they want me to shoot them. This is the life I grew up in, surrounded by criminals and sluts. But somehow I was supposed to be hidden? Where did that all go wrong? I’m taken out of my thoughts when some fucking idiot grabs my ass. I spin around, pulling out my pistol and pointing right at his fucking forehead.
“You want to keep that hand?” I snap, shoving the barrel into his head. He smiles.
“It’s good to see you haven’t lost your touch, Bug.”
“Oh My God, what the fuck are you doing here?” I damn near jump this man like a tree. I put my pistol away and grab him by his shirt, pulling him in for a hug. Fuck, I’ve missed him. I haven’t seen this fucker in years.
“Miss me much, Bug?” He chuckles. Fuck yes, I did.
“Clearly Slim, and fuck you for the nickname. I’ve upgraded to people, let alone bugs. Asshole.” I laugh, punching him in the arm.
“Ouch, since when do you hit so hard? Fuck. Wait a second, what the fuck happened to your face?” He whines, rubbing his arm, and then his facial features turn lethal.
“Cillian O’Cleary, since when are you such a little bitch?” I say, ignoring his question and placing my hands on my hips.
“Um, I’m not sure, but yes, I know you have upgraded. Uncle Flynn was very pleased with your last kill. He sent you a gift.” He winks. My face pales. I think I’m going to puke. He notices my entire demeanor change. He grabs my arm and leads me outside the doors. The cold air hits my skin, littering my arms with goosebumps, and bile rises from my stomach. I wretch over the bushes to the side, emptying my stomach of its barely-there contents. Slim rubs my back until I’m empty. I stand and look at him. He raises a brow, and I shake my head.
“I’ll respect your wishes of not wanting to divulge information, but you have a lot of explaining to do,” He says, flicking my nose.
“I know, but not tonight. How long are you here for?” I ask, taking his hand and leading him back into the clubhouse. I grab a napkin from the bar and wipe my mouth. Slash eyes me but doesn’t say a word and hands me a shot with a glass of water. I take the shot and slam it back, leaving the water for later.
“I’ll be attending Whitestone with you. Flynn seems to think I’m a problem at home, and I need to come here to learn a few things. I call bullshit, but whatever. I knew you would be here, so it made up for it.” He shrugs.
“I won’t be there for long. As my punishment for killing our enforcer, I have to attend the Academy for another semester, and then I can dip out. I’ve been staying at my house close to campus, so you can definitely bunk with me until your dorm is situated, my door is always open for you.”
“No wonder Uncle Flynn was so happy with your kill. He fucking hated that fucker. Oh, your gift is outside. Come on,” He smirks, grabbing my hand again and leading me back out the doors. I swear I have whiplash when he’s around—always moving, never sitting still. At first when he said Flynn was happy about my kill, I thought he was talking about the guys, not D’mitri. It makes me wonder what he did over there that landed him here with me. Cillian is Flynn O’Patricks’ right-hand man’s son. He’s not related to the O’Patrick’s, but he might as well be. He has been training all his life to work for the IRA. He’s lean but not super skinny; his nickname, Slim, was because he was always tall and lanky. He has filled out, and he got hot. He’s 6’4 with a shaved head, light brown eyes, a sharp jawline, and pouty lips. Sheesh. If it weren’t because I’ve known him my entire life, I’d definitely try to smash. I take a deep breath and try to keep up with this guy as he walks further into the compound.
He leads me to the parking lot where I see a completely blacked-out matte black G-wagon. The tint is super dark with black rims. He unlocks it and opens the driver side door. The inside is custom made, with a black interior and deep red leather seats. The interior lights even glow a sultry red. Holy fucking shit, this is dope. I think I’m gonna name her Scarlett. Slim hands me the keys and we hop in.
“Holy shit, this is fucking amazing; let’s take her for a spin!” I say excitedly.
“Wait, can you run inside and get my cut off the bar? We can go have some fun; I just need to grab some shit out of my car first.” I wink. Slim climbs out and heads for the clubhouse. I walk to my car and grab some Snow and two Red Bulls. As I walk back to my new G-wagon, I toss my old keys to the prospect named Toothless.
“Give those to my dad, please.” I say.
“No problem Princess. Have fun with your new whip. She’s gorgeous, just like you.” Toothless winks. I gag because, fuck right the fuck off, little man. Waiting for Slim to get back, I divvy us up some lines. I know he’s into uppers, so we might as well fly high and fuck some shit up tonight. Slim finally emerges and gets in, throwing my cut in the backseat. He looks over at me with the broadest smile on his gorgeous face.
“Is this my welcoming gift?” he winks.
“Fuck yeah, it is. You ready to fuck shit up, Slim?” I raise a brow.
“Damn right, my little Bugbutt; off into the night we go.” He laughs, connecting his phone to the stereo and blasting “SM” by Rihanna. He takes the hundo from my fingers and snorts the silky white powder. I follow suit. We both look at each other and laugh.
“It’s so good to be bad,” he chuckles as we leave the compound.
If you only knew.