Chapter 29 Jules
JULES
Aweek after my article hits the newspaper stands, Silas joins Elias and me in his trailer—well, our trailer, according to my ringmaster. Most of my stuff is here now, the rest in storage crates.
“Things are pretty much going the way we planned,” Silas says, stretching his long legs out on the couch. “The Becks are being shunned in their social circles. The Caldwell pricks are spiraling publicly. Of course, they all deny it. But people love their witch hunts.”
“That they do,” Elias confirms, handing me a fresh cup of coffee with a wink.
“Do I get one of those, brother?”
Elias sighs and turns back to the coffee machine.
“You used to be nicer to me,” Silas mutters. He turns his blue eyes, a couple of shades darker than Elias’s pale gray ones, to me. “It’s like no one but you exists anymore.”
I chuckle despite the tension in my stomach. I haven’t felt relaxed since I finally sent out my story. It’s like I’ve left things unfinished. Maybe I’ll feel better once prick and dick are dead, but…
“I want to see my parents,” I tell the guys.
“I’m sorry, what?” Silas asks, his eyebrows in his hairline.
Elias doesn’t look surprised. “They won’t be nice, Little Sapphire. How they treated you as a kid, when you kept quiet? Magnify it a hundredfold now that you’ve spoken out.”
He hands Silas his coffee, then sits next to me at the booth, his gaze searching mine for something.
“I know, I know,” I sigh, fiddling with my spoon. “I think I need it, though. Need to see that I’ve done the right thing.”
“You think they were remorseful?” Elias asks cautiously.
“Hell no,” I reply bitterly. “You know my source at the FBI? She’s from my hometown. Last time I spoke to her, my parents were still telling anyone who’d listen that I robbed them before I left.”
“You should have,” Silas says with a snort.
I shake my head. “Yeah, no. I wanted nothing to do with them. Everything I took with me I earned.”
The pride in Elias’s eyes shouldn’t turn me on, but it does. We’ve been like rabbits since we met almost a month ago, and still, I can’t get enough of his magic dick. Sometimes I miss the thrill of the hunt, though. The threat of his garrote. Maybe I should say something once we’re out of Graves…
Oblivious to the direction of my thoughts, Elias gets up and extends his hand for mine. “Alright. Let’s go, then.”
I blink at him. “Now?”
His smile is a bit unhinged. “Why not? We won’t be here for much longer. Just have to set a few things in motion for the grand finale.”
The grand finale… The overdue demise of my uncle and cousin. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought.
I place my hand in his and let him pull me up. “I’m ready.”
He smirks. “Perfect.”
“Need an assist?” Silas asks over the rim of his cup.
Elias shakes his head. “Nope. I can handle a couple of spineless worms if it comes down to it.”
“It won’t,” I assure them. “My dad is anti-gun. He hates the motorcycle clubs running these towns and the violence they bring home.”
“I’ll have Jack pull the Hellcat up front,” Elias says with a grin. “They’ll hear us coming.”
“They’re gonna hate that,” I confirm.
We clear the carnival grounds in Elias’s ostentatious ride, carnival workers turning to nod or wave.
The engine growls low and predatory beneath us as Elias drives one-handed, relaxed, the other resting possessively on my thigh.
The vibration of the road hums up through the leather seats and into my bones, matching the nervous tremor already there.
Graves County rolls past in stretches of farmland and trees.
Familiar roads. Familiar fields. I haven’t been here in years, not since my stint with the Wicked Sinners MC, but my body recognizes the curves automatically—the shortcut past the old grain silo, the dip in the asphalt where the county never bothered patching it right.
“You okay?” Elias asks quietly, not looking at me.
“Yeah,” I lie.
He squeezes my leg once, firm and grounding.
The closer we get, the smaller everything feels. The houses shrink from wide-spaced farmland to cookie-cutter subdivisions with manicured lawns and decorative mailboxes. The Hellcat’s engine echoes off brick facades and vinyl siding as we turn onto Maple Ridge Drive.
My street.
The houses haven’t changed much. Same beige siding. Same tidy hedges. Same desperate attempt at suburban perfection.
Elias slows deliberately, letting the engine rumble loud enough to rattle windows. Curtains twitch in at least three houses.
And then there it is.
My parents’ house.
Two stories. Cream siding. Green shutters. The oak tree out front feels bigger now, branches stretching over the driveway like claws.
Elias eases the Hellcat to a slow crawl, then pulls straight into the driveway instead of parking on the street. The engine idles loudly, vibrating through the quiet neighborhood as I look at my childhood home.
“Well,” Elias says softly, killing the engine at last. The sudden silence feels enormous. “Showtime, Little Sapphire.”
I exhale slowly.
“Yeah,” I say, opening the door. “Showtime.”
The front door opens before we take two steps up to the porch.
“How dare you show yourself here?” my mother hisses. My father shoots glares first at me, then at Elias by my side.
“Why not?” I ask, glad that my voice doesn’t waver under their hatred. “It’s my house too, isn’t it?”
“It stopped being your house when you left in the middle of the night,” my dad snaps. “After everything we did for you?”
My blood boils at the words.
“What exactly did you do for me, Dad? Did you protect me when Rick was raping me? I’d barely started wearing a training bra!”
Mom’s face turns scarlet. “Stop being so vulgar! And stop yelling, the neighbors will hear you.”
“Oh, the neighbors will hear me,” I scoff. I turn to Elias. “What will the neighbors think? I must have heard that every day growing up.”
Mom seems to notice Elias for the first time, eyeing his tattooed neck with distaste.
“Who is this… ruffian, Juliane? Is he the one who turned you against your family?”
“Are you kidding me?” I nearly growl. Elias rests his hand on my lower back, letting me know he’s here but not intervening. “You let your child be assaulted and threatened. You put her into situations where the abuse could continue. Why would anyone need to turn me against you?”
Dad’s practically foaming at the mouth now, his jaw clenched so hard he might just pop a vein. I’m not sure I’d mind.
“You didn’t have to report us to the IRS, Juliane!” he yells, the sound all too familiar and definitely triggering. “We’re going to lose the house! Is that what you want? For your parents to live on the street? All because of childhood games between cousins gone too far.”
Elias makes a sound that raises the hair on the back of my neck. “This has to be a sick joke. Are you sure you don’t want them dead, Little Sapphire?”
Mom takes two steps back, walking into Dad, who now resembles a sheet.
“Get inside, Evelyn,” he tells my mom. “They’re unhinged. I’m calling the police.”
“You do that, Dad,” I shoot back, my voice wavering with fury. “Let’s see what they do when I tell them you protected your underage daughter’s rapist.”
“Y—you… You’re a liar!” Mom shrieks as Dad pushes her inside. “You’re a dirty liar, and you got me kicked out of the country club and the church board! And what have you done with your hair? You look like a slut!”
Elias launches forward just as the door slams shut, and I grab the back of his shirt.
“Easy there, tiger. We’re already hitting them where it hurts.”
The fire I see in Elias’s eyes reminds me of our first night together, when he thought I was going to betray him. When he chased me through his carnival, promising death at every turn.
Something has to be wrong with me, because the sight of it soaks my panties. I want nothing more than to have him bend me over the porch railing and take me right here, his hand cutting off my airway. But I have no doubt my dad will call the police if we fuck here.
“Let’s go,” I whisper, my hand going to the front of his pants.
“Little Sapphire?” he asks, his expression turning quizzical.
“I need you to fuck me, and I don’t want to do it here. So you’d better get me out of this godforsaken town before we both get arrested for indecent exposure.” Then I add, as an afterthought, “Master.”