Chapter Twelve #2
Two large bay doors are propped open, leading out to a deck, the sun already baking down on everything below it.
The clubhouse reminds me of what the Kingsnakes was before Cain came back.
Before he killed my parents in their sleep, before he murdered all the ranked members and took over.
But this place is still foreign to me, still a place I didn’t choose.
It’s just a new version of the same thing.
A cage.
A younger woman perches on a barstool, a long, flowy, bohemian-style dress falling toward the ground.
Her dirty-blonde hair is piled high on the top of her head in a chic bun that I could only dream of pulling off.
She’s so stylish, and I look down at my jeans and tank top and suddenly feel self-conscious.
My mom wasn’t very girlie, and ever since puberty, I didn’t have close girlfriends.
They all wanted to get close to me to get closer to Maddox, Lincoln, and Gage.
I’m all for people shooting their shot, but not at my expense.
After the night when my life went straight to hell, I stopped trying altogether, not wanting anyone to be too close.
When people get close, they ask questions they think they want the answers to, but so few can handle the truth that I no longer want to give anyone the opportunity to disappoint me.
“Sienna, this is Kinsey. Kinsey, this is Sienna.”
“Hey, Sienna, it’s nice to meet you. Welcome to our home. I heard you and I might have some things in common,” she says with a chirpy smile.
“Hey, thanks?”
Kinsey chuckles, smiling up at me brightly. “I get it. Didn’t ask to come here, huh? Older brothers making decisions for you?”
I see word travels fast around here. “Yeah, my brother, Saint. He’s a bit . . .”
“Controlling? Possessive? Protective? Tough-loving?”
“Okay, so you know what I’m talking about, then.”
“Oh, I do. You have just the one?”
“Yeah, one biological one. The other two are his best friends. They’ve been around since I was little, but they’re not nearly as bad as Maddox.”
“Try four. All older.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Sawyer, Dallas, Liam, and Carter . . . who is now married to Finn, so I guess five? But the biological four. Girl. I’ve got stories.”
The huge man from last night, Reid, I think his name was, walks up to her, dropping his big arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his side. He’s massive compared to her, and it’s actually slightly disarming.
“Oh, she’s definitely got some stories,” he adds. Kinsey laughs and bats him in the stomach with her hand.
“Reid is best friends with my oldest brother, Sawyer.”
“Oh,” I gasp. “That must have been . . . interesting.”
“To say the least. But Reid saved my life, so I think it made it easier for Sawyer to forgive him for the betrayal.”
“I’m glad it worked out for you.” I smile.
“Me too. Everyone here really is great. If you need anything at all, just let me know. We’ll be here for the next few weeks, if you need a friend.
Saige and Bristol are great, and Monroe is new, but she’s so sweet.
Just come find us, and if anyone gives you a hard time, let me know, and I’ll take care of it. ”
My eyes shoot to Axel, who’s already shaking his head. “No one is going to give you a hard time here, sweetheart, I promise.”
“Oh, I specifically meant any men trying to tell you what to do. No one’s going to hurt you here or make you feel uncomfortable. Just treat the place like a bed-and-breakfast and ignore the loud bullshit. They can be rowdy, but everyone means well.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
Axel puts his hand on my elbow, directing me to follow. I go willingly, because what other option is there?
“There’s a few—”
“Do you mind if I go back to the room? I’m really tired, and I just don’t feel like socializing,” I interrupt.
“Of course. Do you want to grab some food to take back?” My stomach uses this opportunity to growl. Obnoxiously. Axel looks down and grins. “I’m going to take that as a resounding yes.”
“Could you just grab it? I’ll have whatever looks good to you.”
Axel’s face falls, his eyes pinching together. “No. That doesn’t work for me. C’mon, Malice went and picked up pastries from Daily Rise, you’ve got to try them. They’re the best in Washington State, and if you’re gonna eat something from there, you need to pick it.”
My stomach growls again, and I quickly place my palm flat against the center of it.
“Okay,” I agree, following him through the large room and around a corner.
It opens up into a large kitchen, with floor-to-ceiling windows that look brand new, the walls painted an off-white, and the counters clean and clear.
It’s cozier than I would have imagined. On the island sit several large cream-colored boxes with a stamped golden sun rising over a loaf of bread in the center.
Axel puts his hand gently against the small of my back and urges me forward.
I go willingly, his free hand popping open all the boxes so we can peer inside.
The scent hits me first. Warm bread, caramelized sugar, fruit, and cheese waft to my nose and make my mouth water.
Axel leaves me for a brief moment, grabbing two plates and putting them in front of us.
“Alright, what looks good?” he asks, joining me.
My eyes roam over every intricately made pastry.
You can tell whoever made them put so much effort and love behind it.
“We’ve got blueberry muffins, banana muffins with no nuts and no chocolate, sunrise brioche—which is one of Mrs. Odette’s signature pastries—chocolate and almond croissants, scones, aaand two cinnamon rolls left. ”
My eyes stay glued to the cinnamon rolls, the cinnamon oozing from each flaky layer, the thick icing dripping off the sides. Axel notices and reaches for both, putting one on each of our plates. I smile, biting my bottom lip.
“Any chance there’s coffee?” I ask, my voice low and unsure. Axel smiles down at me, nodding.
“Yeah, sweetheart, there’s coffee. How do you like it?”
“Black is fine.” That causes him to pause.
“Fine? Coffee shouldn’t just be fine. How do you like it?”