Chapter 3
Jules
I wake up staring at the ceiling of my brother’s guest room.
He’s been living in Cedar Falls for almost a year, but I’ve never visited him before, even though he gave me a key and said I was always welcome.
I grab my phone from my nightstand and look through my text messages.
Lauren is texting me to ask where I am. I shoot her a quick text telling her that I decided to spend some time with my brother and toss the phone back onto the nightstand.
Once we went to college, Lauren and I kind of drifted apart as best friends, though I guess calling up in the middle of the night saying that I saw her father beaten on the roadside made her reach out.
I let out a sigh. I’m still not sure about what happened that night and it’s weighing on my mind. I know what I saw, even if what I saw can’t possibly be true.
I sit up and push the blanket off my legs. My clothes from last night are on the floor beside the bed. I slept in my underwear and sports bra. Stretching my arms above my head, I can just make out the smell of coffee and bacon. Jumping into the shower, I parse through my situation again.
Aunt Diane lives in Clearwater. She would take me in without hesitation.
Unfortunately, the men in that sedan were real, and the thing I didn’t come clean about is that I think they’re still after me.
She’s sixty-one years old, lives alone, and she deserves to keep walking on that beach without me dragging all my problems to her doorstep.
Tommy can not only handle himself, but he can also keep me safe too.
He’s ex-military, built like a brick wall, and can throw fists with very little provocation.
He also runs with the kind of men who don’t play around when it comes to their family’s safety.
I’d rather not drag him into my mess, but if they followed me here, Tommy is the only real option I have.
And he insisted upon me staying even when he knew I’d seen trouble.
My brother doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.
So, I guess that I’m staying, at least for now.
By the time I’ve had a shower and made it downstairs, Tommy is leaning against the counter in jeans and an oil-stained t-shirt, scrolling through his phone. He looks up when I come into the room and gives me the kind of easy smile he’s known for.
“Good morning,” he says cheerfully. “The coffee’s fresh and I’ve got some breakfast waiting for you.”
“You’re a good egg. Why aren’t you married yet?”
Rolling his eyes, he says, “Don’t ask.” He watches me pour a cup and asks, “Did you sleep okay?”
“Like the dead,” I answer without thinking.
“I don’t like that phrase, especially in regard to my favorite sister.”
I give him a snort laugh, because I’ve missed his sense of humor. “I’m your only sister, so that’s not the big compliment you think it is.”
He sets his phone on the counter. “Are you hungry? I’ve got bacon, eggs, and toast.”
“Whatever’s ready,” I tell him with a careless shrug.
“You always say that, like food doesn’t even matter to you.”
“You got me all wrong, bro. I’m extremely partial to food I don’t have to cook.”
He’s all smiles as he pulls food out of the oven that he’s been keeping warm for me. “I remember that about you. The only thing I ever saw you make was cookies.”
I perk up. “Would you happen to have any cookies?”
“I’ll make you a deal. If you eat all your protein, I’ll bring you home a really special cookie this evening.”
I frown at him. “I’m not a kid anymore. You get that, right?”
He puts a plate down in front of me and deadpans back. “You’re not a kid, but you are obsessed with cookies.” Thumping his chest with one hand, he adds, “And there’s a new bakery that opened last month. They have the best fuckin’ cookies I’ve ever tasted.”
I grab the plate, take it over to the table, and dig in. Swirling my empty fork around in the air, I tell him, “I’m holding you to that deal, bro,” I pause then ask, “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here?”
Something in my brother’s expression changes. He looks angry and his voice turns cold. “Why would I have a problem with you staying? We’re family.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d want your kid sister hanging around. Now you’re a biker and all that,” I say.
His arms come down from being folded across his chest and he sits down across from me. “You’re all I have. You know I’d do anything for you, right?”
I smile. “I know you would.” We’re silent for a bit.
I guess both of our thoughts go back to our mom and how he raised me after she died.
I glance around the farmhouse kitchen. It’s a nice place, a place I could imagine him raising a family in.
He’d sent me photos when he first bought it.
Back then it looked like it was barely holding together.
“I like the house, you did it up nicely.”
He smiles at me. “I wanted to do something with my inheritance. Like how you used your money wisely on college, instead of running off to Vegas to blow it all on hookers and blow.”
I burst out laughing without meaning to. Truth be told, I’ve really missed my brother. “I’m really glad I decided to come and visit you.”
“I’m glad you did too.”
I glance down at his leather vest. “So, Flint talked you into joining his club after all.”
“No. You know no one on God’s green earth can lure me into doing something I don’t want to do. I went there to visit and decided the brothers there were my kind of people. I’ll probably be prospecting for a year or so. If I meet their expectations, they’ll vote me into the club.”
“Oh wow, this sounds like something that’s important to you.” I know my brother so well that I can tell by his serious attitude and carefully chosen words that it is.
“It is. Sometimes it’s nice to be part of something bigger than yourself. I learned that in the military.”
“In that case, I’m happy for you. I truly am, bro.”
“Today, the shop’s closed. I have duties to attend to there. Would you like to come with me? You can hang out with Flint until I’m finished. He’ll give you the grand tour and introduce you to everyone.”
I take a sip of coffee to give myself a second before I respond.
Do I want to spend time with Flint? I’ve been crushing on him since I was a teen.
Thinking about spending time with that handsome man fills me with warmth and also the humiliation of him brushing aside all my admiration.
He said I’m too young, he’s too old for me, and we’re too different.
“That’s nice of him,” I say, and I keep my voice even and casual because my overprotective brother does not need to know that his best friend has been living rent-free in my head for the better part of seven years.
“He’s a good dude. Weird, but good.”
“Flint’s not weird. You just need to get to know him better.”
If only, I think to myself.
“You can hang here if you want,” he calls out. “Watch TV, whatever.”
“What are my other options?”
“Or you can come with me to guard the gate. You’ve got a lot of choices at the clubhouse. You can grab a room and nap, look around for Flint.”
“I’ll come with,” I say.
***
The drive takes about twenty minutes. I watch the scenery change from rural to urban and back again.
The Sons of Rage clubhouse is bigger than I expected.
A huge cement building with an industrial look to it.
It sits in the center of a paved lot filled with every kind of motorcycle imaginable.
Beyond the main building I can see a couple of outbuildings, a fenced area with more vehicles, and a stretch of open ground that might be a yard or a staging area or both.
This place is a compound. There’s no doubt about that.
They open the gate for us and Tommy parks near the gate and kills the engine. “Welcome to the Sons of Rage clubhouse.”
“Thanks for the invite.”
I follow him inside. Once my eyes get used to the dim lighting, I see the main room looks more like a sports bar than what I imagine a biker clubhouse would look like.
There are a few brothers playing pool in the corner and I can hear laughing coming from over the far side where a game of cards is going on.
Tommy gets me settled on a comfortable sofa and comes back with a wine cooler in his hand. “Sit tight. My gate duty is four hours today. Don’t wander around on your own. If anyone gives you a hard time, call me and I’ll come runnin’.”
“I’m not twelve,” I tell him. “Believe it or not, I’ve minded my own business in a bar before.”
“You’re my little sister. Humor me.”
He walks off towards the gate, and I make myself comfortable, sipping my drink.
Eventually, I relax enough to pull out my sketchbook and charcoals.
Over the years, I’ve learned how to sit still and observe without looking like I’m staring.
That skill comes in handy now. I look out the window, fascinated by how the men move, greet each other with handshakes, back slaps, and short bursts of laughter.
I like the way they treat their bikes with such respect.
I’m just about to pick up my charcoals when a voice comes from behind me.
“You’re new. I haven’t seen you around here before.”
When I glance over my shoulder, a woman is walking up.
She’s tall and curvy and wearing an outfit that looks like it would be more suitable in a nightclub.
Her hair is long and blonde and styled in the kind of effortless waves that take about an hour to achieve.
She’s looking at me the way my cat looks at a new toy.
I decide to take the initiative by introducing myself. Holding out my hand, I tell her, “I’m Tommy’s sister. Jules.”
“Candy,” she replies, not taking my hand. She folds her arms over her chest and tilts her head, studying me like she’s trying to figure out how gullible I am.
“I didn’t know TJ had a sister,” she says with a hint of condescension in her tone.
“Why would you know his family? I know you’re not my brother’s type.”