Chapter 32
MERRICK
When nothing happens with the Kin by Sunday, Iron Jack approves Marietta returning to campus on Monday for class. I drive her up there on my bike, with Fancy and Two-Shit riding ahead and Chain and Low Joe behind.
When we get to campus, all her friends are assembled on a big rectangle of grass amid the buildings. The other four Wild Hair take the corners, but I park and walk her up.
Symphony looks up at me, her blonde hair a wild halo in the sun. “What did you bring him for? We can’t talk about his sexual prowess if he’s standing right here.”
“I’m sure his prowess is fine,” Bailey says. “I’m glad you all dragged me back to campus for this. It’s fun to be back.” She peers up at me. “Rhett says hello.”
“How’s the Pickle empire?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Beats me. I’m interning at a law office. I have my eye on the Florida Supreme Court.”
“Sure beats beating pickles,” Jenna says with a laugh.
“How is Uncle Sherman?” I ask.
“He’s not snooping after your bar anymore, if that’s what you want to know,” Bailey says. “He is hands off, totally.”
“Good.” He probably wouldn’t be thrilled we’ve been undoing all his suggestions. We tried them. They didn’t work for us.
“You know, when he bought the place and gave it back to you, he wasn’t trying to interfere.” Bailey’s gaze on me is fierce, like she has to defend the entire Pickle clan.
“The bar is doing fine,” Marietta says. “They don’t need to attract the Gen Z set.” She plops down next to Symphony.
“Do you like working there?” Bailey asks.
I intend to go somewhere else so the women can talk, but I hesitate to hear her answer.
“I love it,” she says. “I’m going to dance there as soon as I can put a routine together.”
“You go, girl,” Symphony says, high fiving her. “You show off those assets.”
Bailey’s mouth turns down, like she doesn’t approve, but she doesn’t say anything.
“They’re going to go nuts for you,” Jenna says. “Poor Merrick here will have to beat them all back.”
That sounds like my cue to exit. “See you ladies in a bit,” I tell them. “Marietta, let me know if you see anybody who looks off.”
As I stride away, I hear Bailey ask, “What does he mean ‘off’?”
I regret saying it. Now, Marietta will have to decide how much to tell them about Lucifer’s Kin.
I sit on a bench at the far end of the quad, watching them. They can’t be talking about anything too serious because they keep laughing and leaning in.
The faint sound of a motorcycle approaches, and I stand, looking around. I text the other four Wild Hair simultaneously.
Me: Who’s approaching?
Fancy: Don’t get your knickers in a twist. It’s just Diesel.
Right. He takes classes here, too.
A few minutes later, I spot him crossing the grass. He’s aiming for the women when he spots me and changes course.
He’s different. We were one way in the Army, all swagger and scowls. We maintained it for a while after buying the bar, mainly since we had to throw out customers who got out of hand.
But Diesel is getting more chill. There’s an ease to how he walks. He doesn’t scan for danger or look to intimidate by default.
He’s getting domesticated.
I, on the other hand, seem to be going off the deep end. The Wild Hair. Enemies. Raids.
He drops onto the bench beside me. “Didn’t expect to see you here, brother.”
I haven’t told him anything about the club brawl. “Some ugly elements out there. Making sure Marietta’s okay.”
“And the other bike thugs? Those yours?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s more than elements, then. Sounds like protecting a target.”
I shrug. “We’re being careful.”
We both stare over the quad. It’s getting busier. Must be time for class shortly, I guess. I don’t know shit about college.
“Seems like a lot of shit keeps going down since you joined the club. You sure it’s the right thing?” He doesn’t look at me, eyes on random people walking by.
“I’m not officially patched in. I can back out if I think it’s a bad idea.” Not that I would. I like it, even with the conflict. Keeps me from being bored. And Marietta has found a way to fit in.
“I hear you and Marietta are a thing.”
I bet he did. “We hooked up.”
“That’s no small thing, given her status.”
“I’m aware.”
He turns to me at that. “Don’t fuck with her. I mean it. I will fuck you up.”
This pisses me off. “Fuck off. You don’t know anything about what we’re doing.”
We square off, gazes locked. I’m not sure who is going to throw the first punch when Symphony waves an arm between us. “No fighting on the quad, you idiots,” she says. “I can spot a family spat from a hundred paces.”
Diesel breaks eye contact first. “Right. It’s time to go to class, anyway.”
Symphony hooks her arm through his. “See ya, Merrick. The girls will come up to the bar again soon. What nights does Marietta work?”
“Wednesdays,” I say, staring at my brother. “Maybe some other nights if she wants to.”
“Don’t distract her too much. She has a thesis to propose this Friday.”
She does? I drag my eyes away from my brother to her. “I’ll make sure she gets time to work.”
“Good.”
The two of them wander off. The other three women chat a short way away, then Marietta breaks away to come to me.
“It’s a fifty-minute class,” she says. “I’ll meet you right here?”
“Yeah. Let me know if you see anything.”
“I will.” She leans down to kiss me, and there’s something so simple about the gesture that, for a second, my chest seizes.
Then she’s gone, hurrying to catch up with Jenna. Bailey heads toward the parking lot.
The students move into buildings. A few people take notice of me, staring at my cut. One particularly bubbly redhead in a puffy white vest stops in front of me to ask, “What’s a prospect?”
I stare at her long and hard until she shifts uncomfortably from one black boot to the other. When she still doesn’t leave, I say, “It’s like gold prospectors. Only, I collect dead bodies.”
Her eyes go wide, and she whirls away. She walks as fast as she can to the nearest building.
I probably shouldn’t have said that. She’ll probably call campus security on me.
But a half hour passes, and nothing happens. Late students dash across the grass. Others drift in and sit down, much like Marietta and her friends had done. The morning sun shifts higher in the sky.
Then class is out, and students move in every direction. I stand, concerned that I will lose her in the crowd.
But then she’s there, waving bye to Jenna and walking toward me in the sea of people.
This one’s mine, I think, or she could be, if we played it right.
Would we?
Watching her approach, her hair shining in the sun, smiling like I’m the best thing she’s seen all day, is something wholly unfamiliar.
I feel stunned, frozen in place, like I’m looking at something everyone else understands but I’ve only just now figured out.
This could be good. Really good.
“All done!” she says. “I hope you weren’t too bored.”
I shake my head. “You want to go back to the club?”
“I’ll go anywhere you go,” she says. “I have my books. I can study anywhere.” She leans in close. “Or we can break in another part of the bar. I’ve been thinking about those mirrors in Hookup Heaven.”
My body revs. She’s something. A wonder. “Yeah,” I tell her. “Let’s do that.”
We head toward my bike. Two-Shit has taken up that corner.
“Everything looks clear,” he says.
“We’re heading to the bar,” I tell him. “Once we break town, no need to follow us. I’ve got it.”
He nods. “Cool. We should get on that construction job.”
“Thank you,” Marietta says. “I hate to be so much trouble.”
Two-Shit flips his ignition switch. “All in a day’s work for the club.” His bike roars to life. “I’ll tell the others,” he shouts over the motor. Then he’s off.
Marietta and I load up and head out of the parking lot. She’s handsy as we ride, slipping her fingers up my shirt to caress my skin. Then she goes lower, searching for my dick. She’s going to find it in a second if she keeps that up.
We roar down the highway out to the Leaky Skull. It’s a cool November day but not cold. South Florida rarely is. We pass a semi and slide back into our lane.
I note a couple of bikes ahead, coming at us from the other direction. Hard to know who they are.
I watch them warily as the distance closes.
Then out of nowhere, a red truck screeches out of a parking lot and cuts in front of me.
The two bikes close in, and I have to run onto the shoulder to avoid hitting them.
We’re pushed into the grass for a moment, bumping along.
Marietta lets out a scream but hangs on.
The car comes up behind me on the road. I don’t dare go in front of it. They are obviously here to run us down.
Up ahead, there’s a cleared-out stretch of land. I head for it, away from the road, and cut across. For a moment, I think the other bikes will follow, but as we bump along, the noise of their engines gets quieter.
I check my mirrors and see they’re still up on the road. The semi has caught up with them, probably spooking them.
I yank my phone from my pocket and hit the shortcut to Google Maps. There’s a back road off the other end of the parcel. I head for it, diving into the ditch and coming up the other side.
Then we’re on old asphalt, crumbling on the edges, and coursing alongside the forest.
This is the long way around before returning to the highway and solitary. I reach in my pocket and shove an earbud in to ring Two-Shit.
He picks up immediately. “Something’s up,” he says like he knows.
“Nearly got run off the road. Dropping a pin to my location.” I punch Google Maps and send it to him.
“Got it. We’ll be at the end of that road for backup. Just keep trucking.”
We ride along the empty stretch in the woods. Marietta holds me tightly. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but we can’t talk easily over the roar. I reach down and squeeze her arm.
My ears rush with the adrenaline of the near miss. That was the Kin, no doubt, and somehow, they knew who we were and where we would be.
Fuck those meth heads.
They will not get Marietta.
Maybe I’ll be collecting dead bodies after all.