Chapter 18 Jackal
JACKAL
It’s not the sunlight that wakes me. It’s the remembering.
Memories force their way into my consciousness, reminding me that the warm body currently curled up against mine is Isla’s.
She never left.
Somehow, in the night, we were pulled together like two magnets.
Both of us on our sides, her head tucked in against my chest. Even through the T-shirt I slept in, I can feel the warm puffs of her breath against my skin.
One arm is wrapped around her, but the arm beneath her head is reaching out, touching Garrett’s warm shoulder.
Everything feels right with the world. But how they both came to be here is wrong.
As half-dreams and hazy memories give way to reality, I remember how it felt to watch Garrett spin along the asphalt.
And how he spent most of the night wincing and groaning in pain.
At four in the morning, I took a pillow and placed it under his knees because he complained his back ached.
I wasn’t sure if it was injury related or just the fact he’d been lying on his back so long.
But it was all I could think of to ease his discomfort beyond medication.
I lie where I am, almost too scared to breathe, in case I ruin this moment. Isla’s hair tickles my arm. Her legs shift with the barest twitch, like, even in sleep, she’s trying to get free.
It’s indulgent to lie here and let myself believe this is our life. That there are no bruised ribs beneath blankets and battered hearts above them. That there are no enemies with trucks or haunted pasts threatening the people curled up on the bed with me.
But given I’ve never been good at make-believe, I ease myself out of bed.
Isla stirs and sighs as I move but doesn’t fully wake up. Through what little light of dawn is coming through the curtains, I look at the two of them. My burly guardian and my sweetheart.
Garrett doesn’t stir, not even when I brush my hand down his forearm before slipping away. I’ve dumped the clothes I haven’t yet unpacked in the smallest bedroom, and it takes a moment to find everything I need to get dressed for the day.
The house is cool. I’m guessing it was frigid overnight. The air and weather here are fascinating to me. It’s starting to feel warm during the day, especially when the sun is out, but there’s still snow in some parts. And at night, the air is freezing.
Once downstairs, I adjust the thermostat, set the coffee to brew, and light the fire. Heat rises, at least, that’s what the science says, and hopefully, it will wind its way upstairs before the two sleepyheads wake. The fire catches fast, flames licking greedily at the bark.
I watch it for a moment, rubbing the back of my neck.
I wonder how different last night would have felt if Isla hadn’t come over.
If she hadn’t made soup and fed Garrett and made sure I ate.
If I hadn’t been able to sleep for a few hours because I would be waking every hour to care for him.
If she hadn’t touched both of us. Physically, and in some deep calming place we never talk about.
My phone pings, and I open the message.
Wren: Got a hit on a potential truck by searching make, model, and location. It’s registered to a storage unit property off Hollow Bend. Lease holder is Jared Casey. Reported it stolen from the airport. BUT. Guess what else. He’s got family. Kevin Humphrey, Isla’s uncle, is his cousin.
Kevin. That greasy fuck.
There’s an address attached.
My heart starts to beat faster. There’s a thread between them. A link. Who’s to say that Kevin didn’t know of Jared’s location and concoct a plan?
Isla never said it out loud, but I feel like there’s something more to her story with him.
Like something bad happened between them, beyond her inheriting the house.
Because if he’s this extreme over a dilapidated house, there’s a high chance he’s lost his shit with her over other things in their family.
The coffee pot gurgles suddenly, enough to make me jump from my thoughts. I pull a mug from the cupboard and pour myself a strong black coffee. Today, I’m gonna take a step to settle the score and need some of the club to back me, which Grudge already suggested they would.
I mean, I’m going anyway, but my odds and safety increase with backup. And the show of force would remind Kevin that you don’t get to hurt what’s ours and then walk away with clean hands.
There’s a creak behind me, and I turn, half expecting Garrett to have forced his way out of bed.
But it’s Isla. Her hair’s twisted up in a loose knot, her hoodie swallowing her frame. She looks rumpled and soft, and it takes everything in me to not reach for her, lift her up onto the kitchen island, and enjoy the comfort of her touch.
She pads into the kitchen instead of leaving, which I take to be a good sign. But she’s dressed and back in her sneakers, which tells me she might be leaving soon.
“You didn’t need to get up so early.”
Isla leans against the kitchen counter, elbows on the marble. “One thing I’ve realized since I stopped hanging around at the clubhouse so much is that I’m actually an early riser.” She tips her chin in the direction of the fire. “You got it started already?”
I nod. “It should warm up soon; we’re still figuring out the settings on the heating system. They seem a little erratic. You want some coffee?”
“Yes, please. Just black.”
Her coffee matches ours, and I mentally berate myself for feeling like that’s a sign.
I pour her one, then hand it to her, her fingers brushing mine as she takes it. And they linger, just long enough that I feel it in places that would probably scare her. Although, by the way she inhales softly and looks at my chest like she’s uncertain of meeting my gaze, I’m not sure.
I watch the way those plump lips meet the rim as she sips and try not to think about how they’d feel wrapped around my cock.
Or how they’d look around Garrett’s.
Or both.
The stirring in my denim becomes a semi-boner, and now, I’m gonna be stuck on this side of the kitchen island for a hot minute while I think about what a pain in the ass it’s gonna be to lift all these ugly kitchen floor tiles to distract myself.
“Today’s my day off,” Isla says, finally breaking the comfortable silence between us. “I planned to find someone to put a new roof on the house and find out how much it costs.”
“We’ve got a roofer on payroll,” I say, internally wincing when I remember it’s Jinx, who won’t be too happy to see us again. “I know you want to remain distant from the club, and I get it. But I’ll ensure you get a club deal and…”
“No,” Isla says. “Thank you for offering, but the last thing I need is another biker on my property.”
“But he’ll do it for at least twenty percent less than anyone else will charge you.”
Isla puts the cup down on the counter. “He could offer to do it for free, and I still wouldn’t take him up on the offer.”
I raise an eyebrow at that. “Seriously?”
“Fine, if it was free, I would because I’m not that foolish.
But…I just…I need space. And this…you and Garrett…
and last night—that’s all confusing enough.
I can’t deal with anything else. So, I’m going to find a roofer and start renovating the living room.
But what I was getting to was, if you have to leave, I can come back every hour and check on Garrett. ”
I didn’t realize that it had been a weight on my mind until Isla lifts it. “You would?”
She nods. “Of course. I can bring him lunch and those kinds of things.”
I glance out the window, thinking about the quandary of how having more people to care about might feel like more work to some but eases the burden for others. “I’d appreciate that. I’ll make sure he’s had breakfast and is set up with the things he needs for the day.”
“You have my number, right?” Isla says.
I know what she’s asking. Is it still on the club-girl phone list? “I do.”
She nods, but I can see the hint of sadness in her eyes as she drinks more of her coffee.
“You want me to get it removed for you?” I ask.
The corner of her lips turns up. “Please. I’m gonna go, now. Tell Garrett I said goodbye and that I hope he feels better and that I’ll see him later.”
“I will.” I step around the island and grab the spare key off the hook. “Here. Take this. He isn’t going to be sprightly on the stairs for a few days.”
She opens her palm, and I drop the key in it. Then, I take hold of her wrist and guide her fingers to close around it. “You go take care of your chores, and I’ll go take care of mine.”
She gives me a soft crooked smile, one that shows the small gap in her front teeth.
I should let her go.
Instead, I take a risk. I step forward, cup her cheek, and lean down so slowly toward her that she has plenty of time to tell me to stop. The kiss is light, chaste, even, but it lingers. Her hand flutters to my chest like she’s trying to steady herself, or maybe me.
Then, she pushes me away, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide with outrage. “Oh my God. This is why I can’t do this. Your boyfriend is upstairs, and I just let you kiss me.”
I brush a tendril of hair back from her face. “I can explain that in a second. But I need to know if you wanted me to kiss you.”
“No,” she says indignantly. “I mean…urgh…no. You have a boyfriend. And at the very first test, I fell over.”
“Isla,” I say, grabbing hold of her wrist. “He’s my life partner. Not my boyfriend. Not to scare you, but the two of us agreed we’d both like to explore this with you. If you consent, obviously.”
“Oh.” She glances up at the ceiling. As if willing Garrett to see the two of us. “Both of you?”
I stroke her cheek, and she lets me, at first, before brushing my hand away. “You don’t believe me?”
She looks at the key in her hand. “Believing in what bikers tell me has been a weakness that I’m working on.”
I touch the ends of her hair. It’s soft and smooth, and I resist the urge to take a handful. “I know we have a lot of work to do to help you trust us.”
Her jaw drops open. “You’re serious?”
I nod. “I am.”
She steps back toward the hallway, to the front door, where she can run for the safety of home. “I don’t think I can.”
“Why?”
“I’m not looking for hook-ups. I’m looking for something real. Something long-term.”
“We see that. And so are we. It would be a closed polyamorous relationship. A triad between the three of us. Why couldn’t something real happen here?”
She huffs. “It’s all of it. Two of you. The club.
Who you are and what you do. And I could just imagine the face of the old ladies if I showed up with the two of you.
They’d never trust me amongst them. And I’d be in that shitty place where no one really wants me.
Like, hey, Greer, let’s sit together and try not to think about all the times I sucked Butcher’s cock. ”
There’s a spear of envy that it wasn’t mine. “Yes. But you’d have us.”
She runs her fingers over the key in her palm. I haven’t lost the ability to read a woman, and I see a woman battling between what she thinks is right and what she knows she wants.
“Isla. There’s no rush and no time limit on this. Just…get to know us away from the club. And talk to Garrett when he sees you later. Tell him I kissed you. Tell him what we talked about. Talk it through with him.”
Her cheeks blush pink. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
“In your own time, then.”
“Will you tell him? While I’m gone?”
I nod. “Of course, I will. I’ll tell him it was sweet and nowhere near long enough for my liking.”
“Oh,” she says again, then bites down on her lower lip.
I step closer to her. “You want me to try again, kiss you a little longer this time?”
She throws her hands up, an invisible shield to stop me from stepping closer. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
She shakes her head as she heads to the door, then looks back at me. “Right now, I’m not sure of anything. Your kiss confused me, Kai. And I don’t know what to do with that.”