Forty-Six
FANG
Jenna lifts her trapped leg toward Reno, swinging her knee up so that it connects with the woman’s chin. The snap of Reno’s teeth as her jaw slams shut reaches me a split-second before the bitch cries out, releasing Jenna to cover her mouth.
“You little sthlut!” she lisps, blood gushing from the wound inside her mouth. “Fuck!”
“Told you to get your goddamn hand off me. Your fault you didn’t listen.” Jenna spins on her heel and strides through to the kitchen, twisting sideways to get around Loki.
I take a step away from the carnage and cover my mouth to hide my smile.
Hell, yeah. That’s the fire Freckles needs to get through the last of this.
It’s a glimpse of the woman she was when she first got here, the wildcat ready to battle for what’s right.
Until I cut her confidence down and pushed her past breaking point.
Fuck—I really am the asshole the guys have been telling me I am these past years. Damn.
“The hell happened here?” Loki whips a bandana from his pocket and throws it at Reno. “Shove that over your mouth before you stain the rug and Dolly has your ass.”
“Jenna kneed her,” I mutter, fighting not to smile.
As I said, I’d never hit a woman, but I’m not averse to seeing one get her just desserts.
“Why?”
“Because Reno wouldn’t take her hand off her.”
“For fuck’s sake.” He disappears and re-emerges moments later with an ice pack.
Reno frowns at the man when he hands it over. “What the phuck am I sthposed to do with thiths?”
“Stop any swelling?”
“It’s her mouth, dickhead.” A snort escapes.
Mongrel appears in the doorway to check out the commotion. “Try sticking your dick in there and see what happens,” he taunts. “At least one of you would get some benefit out of it.”
“Fuck the lot of you,” Loki complains. “I was trying to help.”
Mongrel crosses the room with a shake of his head. “Tip your head up, sweetheart. Better to swallow that blood than let it fall out on the floor.” He coaxes Reno’s head back. “Do what comes naturally.”
“What you thrying to sthay?” she hisses.
“That we all know what his throat was built for.” He pats her neck with his rough fingers. “And it wasn’t keeping the peace around here, was it?”
Loki turns his back to the scene to hide his amused reaction. I contemplate bailing from the room and giving in to the hysterics building with every fucking word these clowns mutter.
“It phuckin hurths!” Reno hisses, jerking her head away from Mongrel, who tries to pry her mouth open for a look like she’s a goddamn horse.
All I can picture is that fucking snake in the Jungle Book listening to her attempts to speak. “You’ll be fine. Quit your whining.”
She’s delivered much worse in her time here. More than one local girl left a party with an extension missing, scratches on her face, even a black eye. We stopped welcoming unknowns to our bigger get-togethers after Marty was called out to investigate an assault complaint.
It wasn’t worth the hassle. Not as long as she was around.
And then she left, and I guess we all enjoyed the quiet too much to change anything.
I leave Mongrel to fuss over Reno and search out Chaos.
One thing she said back at the start struck me, and I need to delve a little deeper into it with the boss.
He’s not in his office when I check, no sign of him outside—or anyone, for that matter.
I head upstairs, briefly check the rooms with open doors, and then stall at the head of the stairs with a sigh.
Fucker always sleeps in when Ness is here. If they’re even sleeping. I glance one last time at his closed bedroom door, and then head back down the stairs, phone in hand.
Last night’s events made the Tribune.
He can read the message when he’s not too busy. I divert to the kitchen, yet Jenna isn’t among the faces seated at the table or preparing breakfast. She’s not in the laundry, and neither of the other women have roused yet, which means she can’t be with them.
The morning chill hits me as I duck out the back door, cross over to where she slept last night, and poke my head in the door.
Molly snores lightly on the cot, yet there’s no Freckles with her.
I pull the light blanket over Molly’s sleeping bag higher to ward off the chill in the room and then find myself on the back lawn, scouring the horizon.
Where the fuck did she go? Back in the forest?
My phone vibrates in my hand.
Makes for an interesting read. Gives me the impression their informant was in the room. What did you think?
Fuck. I glance across the fields one last time and then fixate on my phone while I pull up the story.
Sure enough, the narrative fits somebody who could have been there with us.
They mention specifics of how the truck approached, the sound it made, and the immediate aftermath—yet those are things a witness could have reported.
What’s telling is the lack of real journalism: no mention of which direction the truck came from, reports of it driving erratically prior, or anything that indicates this person made any effort to interview residents and adjacent businesses.
All the details are from inside the diner.
Gives me that impression too. I’ll round up Loki and Darko and see if they noticed anyone suspicious.
Because I sure as shit didn’t. I was too preoccupied with what went down in the booth and in my head.
Check with Jenna too.
My lip snarls as I read Chaos’s message.
Yeah, sure. How the fuck am I supposed to do that when I don’t know where the fuck the woman went?
I asked her to stick around, and like the petulant pain in my ass she is, she up and vanished in the next breath.
Maybe I’m reluctant to be real with her about how she makes me feel, but she’s fucking reluctant to do anything that makes the task any easier.
I pocket my phone and head toward the back door.
At least one of the old boys must be heading home; the growl of an engine as it starts echoes off the surrounding buildings. I step inside and check the laundry again—just in case—and then swing right into the kitchen with a sigh.
“The fuck you doing here?” Viper asks, plate of eggs in front of him.
Jezabel shoots me a wary look from where she prepares more at the stove, still in her pajamas.
“The fuck you mean, what am I doing here?” I move through to where he sits with Hustle, the prospect nursing a large cup of coffee.
Movement in my periphery distracts me momentarily, and the reality of his statement sinks in when I spot Mongrel still fussing over Reno, Bossman watching on with mild amusement.
If they’re still here, then who…?
“Was that not your bike I just heard start up?” Viper snaps before shoveling in another forkful of chicken abortions. He continues around the yellow mess. “Might have been a while, but I know the sound of a poorly tuned Harley when I hear one.”
Trust him to sling an insult in with effortless ease.
I dart through the parlor, noting Reno’s gaze track me as I go, and burst through the front door. Surely not…
Surely yes.
Jacket two sizes too large for her, Jenna glances my way as she navigates my fucking bike across the yard. Her shoulder-length hair halos the borrowed helmet, leggings making her appear delicate atop the machine.
But she’s anything but.
She’s wild, unpredictable, and a total liability.
And it finally dawns on me why I want her, why I need her.
Because behind all that disorder is a woman who wants to do the right thing to be loved.
And don’t I fucking relate to that.