Thirty-Nine
JENNA
There are fuck all places to hide when you’re on someone else’s home turf. For as much as I’ve explored this property, there must be twice as much land left untouched.
Which is why I found myself turning down the long driveway and not stopping until I reached the colorful garden out front of Vanessa’s cottage.
It looks so beautiful. Such a breath of fresh air amongst a droll and depressing landscape.
It looked like a haven.
I’m not sure what I’m doing here. What the fuck is my plan? Sit here as I did in the field those first days? For how long? Until my stomach rumbles or I succumb to exposure once dusk falls?
“Fucking hopeless.” I plant my ass on the mossy bricks that make up the narrow path to the front porch.
Tall blooms surround me, clinging to the last vestiges of life before even they go dormant for the colder months.
I reach for one and pull it toward me, bending its long green stalk.
I need to get away from here. We’ve reached a tipping point where I’m no safer with the Kings of Anarchy than I would be crawling home to my father with my tail between my legs.
But I can’t let this go. To dip now would make me a goddamn coward, and if watching my mom battle through her illness instilled anything in me, it was the desire to be as strong as her. As resilient.
As determined.
Her legacy deserves more than a daughter who stirs all the shit off the bottom of the muck pile and then leaves before it can touch her.
I escalated things when I killed Mary-Beth, and now I need to de-escalate them.
But how? The more I try, the more I succeed in losing everyone’s trust.
I’m literally living a life that encapsulates the frugal struggles of quicksand; the more I attempt to get out, the more it sucks me in.
An engine roars from the direction of the clubhouse, and I lift my head in time to see a beaten-up little sedan tear past. Must be Reno. I’d probably smack my foot to the floor to get away too if I had to deal with Fang on the regular.
My shoulders rise with a deep breath, yet I find no relief in it. What to do… I could do exactly as Fang suggested, although he said it as a bluff, and take what I know to the sheriff. Only, wouldn’t that incriminate everyone involved? King of Anarchy and all?
Cops are ruled out then.
I need help, though. I can’t take on an entire MC world as one woman. But then again, I can take on one part of it.
My mind circles back to my father—to getting him here to talk with the Kings.
I’d probably have better luck converting the pope to atheism.
Back to square one, then. Which is where I always find myself; doing a little dance that brings me back to the start, a little more tired than the time before. Mental gymnastics.
Footsteps crunch on the road, yet they’re too light to belong to Fang. I straighten my spine and take another deep breath as Vanessa pushes through the gate.
“You remember what I said about Chaos and his cameras, right?”
I twist and stare up at the house behind me. Sure enough, a tiny little cam is tucked beneath the porch eaves. Goddamnit. “Sorry.” I rise to my feet and brush off my ass. “I just wanted to be away from there.”
She follows my gestured nod and glances to the clubhouse. “I get it. Do you want to come inside?”
“I should probably head back so they don’t think I’m plotting the next great escape.”
“They’re more concerned about you being an informant,” she states bluntly.
I take a moment to look at her, framed by the warming sky, and marvel again at how striking she is. “Chaos tell you that?”
“Can’t confirm or deny,” she teases. “Look, I get it’s hard,” Vanessa offers, shifting closer. “But don’t give up on yourself, okay? Things will work out for the better, even if you can’t see how yet.”
I snort a laugh. “Are you sure about that?”
She nods, plucking a flower from a browning bush. “If I’d given up every time I couldn’t see a path out, I’d be dead ten times over by now.”
Her candid statement shakes me somewhat, yet I respect the hell out of her for saying so.
“Here.” She hands me the flower—a giant daisy-looking bloom with deep purple petals. “I have an idea.”
“Using this?” I lift the flower between us.
She smiles. “I meant to help with the tension over there. I haven’t said anything to Chaos yet, but I think it’d help everyone if you ladies could come here. Stay with me and get out of that stressful environment.”
She doesn’t know us. At all. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I wish there’d been someone to do the same for me when I needed to escape the world a while.”
Fuck this. I swallow twice, study the bloom in my hand, and fight the tears that threaten to spill at her selfless generosity.
“Only if that sounds like a good idea to you.”
I nod, unable to form words through my restricted throat.
“Good.” She claps her hands gently. “I’ll bring it up with Chaos tonight. Now, I know there was talk about buying you ladies some clothes while you’re here, but I’ve got a plan for the interim.”
Clothes? Why does that make me feel molly-coddled? Controlled? I’ve got serious issues to sort out. “That’s so unexpected but generous.”
Vanessa dismisses my comment, busy digging in her pocket for a key which she then presents to me. “Here. Let yourself inside. I’ll be back in ten or fifteen.”
I tentatively take it from her. “I can wait out here. I don’t mind.”
“Nonsense. It’s colder than hell. Get inside where it’s warm.” She turns for the gate. “Besides, there are cameras in there too, so I’ll know if you get up to anything.”
He really is thorough… “Okay?”
Her laughter fades as she darts across the road again and I’m left with a choice: do as she says and trust the process, or hide like a frightened rabbit again.
I know which option has got me nowhere so far.
So, I take her key and let myself inside the homely little cottage.
True to her word, the warmth wraps its arms around me as I enter, and I follow the short hallway to the open-plan rear of the house.
Her vibe is a little bit cottage-core, a little dark and gothic.
The walls are painted dark, rich colors, and her furniture is the same rich timber and plush fabrics.
But it doesn’t make the space seem small or cramped.
It’s moody, but in a good way, like being tucked beneath a blanket on a rainy day with a hot cup of cocoa.
It’s comforting.
I take a seat on one of the two armchairs and rest my hands in my lap.
My gaze roves the room, yet I can’t spot any of the cameras she said Chaos installed in here.
Was she bluffing? I get the feeling she wasn’t, which makes me see the Kings president in a whole new light: controlling and ordered.
In a good way or a red flag way, I’m not sure yet.
I stay in place, slowly thawing, until the front door opens again and conversation continues into the cottage.
“I’m most definitely not.” Darla.
“I really don’t think it’s necessary.” Kathy.
The women spill into the living area, Anna tucked behind Darla’s legs. The trio of trauma-sisters comes to a grinding halt when they spot me, Kathy averting her gaze to the floor, and Darla’s mouth hardening.
“What’s the issue?” Vanessa asks, genuinely confused as she squeezes in behind them. “Why’d the mood change?”
“It’s fine.” Darla moves Anna to a spot on the small sofa, and settles beside her.
Kathy slowly sits on the chair adjacent to mine, offering me a weak smile before looking away again.
“No, for real,” Vanessa says, pulling mugs out of the cupboard. “Somebody tell me what this is all about; otherwise, it’ll ruin my plan.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Darla mutters before shifting her glare to me. “How about you explain it, Jenna, since I’ve been told by your guard dog that I don’t let you speak.”
My guard dog. Is she referring to Fang? Why would he say that to her if he doesn’t give a shit about me?
“I don’t have an issue with either of you,” I say softly. “I don’t think I’m the one who needs to work this out.”
Darla snorts. “Not your issue, huh? So we’re just supposed to take what you tell us and brush it aside like it’s nothing?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Then what are you saying?” Darla raises her voice, prompting Vanessa to dash through from the kitchen area.
“Hey,” she placates, hands out before her. “Let’s just keep things civil, huh?”
“Now isn’t the time, anyway,” I say to Darla, pointedly flicking my gaze to the back of Anna’s head.
She cedes the point, nostrils flaring.
“Are we going to be good?” Vanessa tests.
“We’ll make it work.”
Chaos’s lady glances over us all with a sigh, then returns to making hot drinks.
“She wants to have a makeover afternoon,” Kathy whispers, revealing Vanessa’s plan. “She thinks it might give us a mood boost.”
I can’t think of anything worse. I’ve never been a girly-girl. Don’t let me be misunderstood; I appreciate the power of a little makeup and good hair. But the thought of playing dress-ups with other women, giggling and bonding?
Other women who view me as a cold-blooded killer?
Anxiety builds beneath my skin, hot and insisting I leave. Now.
“It’s not that bad,” Vanessa says, catching sight of my face as she brings a pitcher of coffee over on a tray with sugar and creamer.
“I won’t put you in a dress unless you want me to, or preen your hair like a beauty queen.
I want you all to see what goddesses you are, beautiful and strong, like I do. ”
“Nothing changes unless we do, right?” Darla stares directly at me.
I draw a deep breath and break away from her gaze. “If you swear.”
Ness puts a palm to her chest. “Solemnly.”
“Fine,” I relent, shoulders relaxing a little. “Make us over, then, queen.”