Chapter Thirteen
JAX
AVOIDING THE gravel of the circle drive in front of the house, I try to stay on the grass and the pavers to avoid the crunch under my feet.
If there’s anything I’ve learned about the Harlow’s, it’s that they have the hearing of fucking dogs.
Even after I get out of the house, all it takes is a creaking floorboard or gravel under my feet to have Mason or Gray looking out the windows.
Lainey Rai’s dog, Wilson, met me at the top of the stairs, his head tilted to the side like he was asking me where we are going. Gray trained him to take care of his daughter, so when I scratched his head and whispered in his ear to go find Lainey Rai, he trotted off to her room.
I moved my bike to the side of the driveway under one of the trees to block the view from the house after dinner tonight. With my black fatigues and leathers for riding, I should be able to get out of here quickly and easily.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Mason’s voice in the shadows on the other side of the driveway only startles me for a second, but I continue to put my gloves on.
“I should have known you would follow me.” I don’t look up at him, but bend over and check that my pant legs are inside my boots. “When did you hear me?”
“Why? So you can avoid that spot on the stairs next time?” He crosses his arms over his chest and tucks his fingers under his arms.
“So it was the stairs, good to know.” I’m still avoiding his gaze.
“Well? Where are you going?”
“It’s a need to know, brother.” I don’t want him to know where I’m going. I sure as fuck don’t want him to try to talk me out of it.
“It looks like you’re suited up for a sneak attack. Why are you fucking going by yourself?” Irritation is in his voice.
I don’t really want to get into this with him right now, but ever since we found out about the DA yesterday, I’ve been wondering why he and his son are still alive.
But it looks like he’s not going to let it go.
I finally look at him, his profile faint in the sliver of moon left in the sky. “Why didn’t you kill them?”
He cups his chin and starts scratching the scruff on his jaw as he looks toward the house and then back at me. “I had a feeling they’re what this is about.” He takes a deep breath.
“Well?”
“I offered, Marley told me no.”
Surprise renders me speechless for a moment, but then it makes sense, she’s too good of a person to wish death on anyone, even her attackers. “And you listened?”
“Is that where you’re going?”
Dropping my hands to my sides, fisting my hands to stretch the leather of the gloves, I look toward the place that Marley loves the most. Her stables and her horses. “She deserves that.” It’s all I can say.
I can feel his eyes on me, but I keep looking across the yard. The floodlights on her stable is lighting up the entire front area.
“Do you love my sister?” The question is tense, and I can hear the uncertain anger in his voice.
I turn my head to look in his eyes. “She owns me, brother, fucking all of me. I would do anything for her.”
He’s quiet as he stares back at me. The punch is swift and unexpected.
I should have expected it.
Pain spiderwebs across my face from my nose, but I can tell he pulled the punch or my nose would be broken.
My head jerks back, I really wasn’t expecting it, and I wipe my fingers under my nose to see if it’s bleeding. Just a small amount of blood is on the tip of my fingers. He really did pull the punch.
I expected much worse, to be honest. I just wasn't looking forward to him beating the shit out of me when he found out I love her. Everyone knows sisters are off-limits.
“There is so much more where that came from. If you hurt her in any way, you'll be in my crosshairs without ever knowing it, then I’ll bury your body in the hills back there and tell them I don’t know where you are.
” He points in the general direction of the hundreds of acres that is their backyard.
He means it. He’s an excellent marksman, too, so I know he would do it.
At least that’s over with. It could have gone much worse.
“You don’t have to worry about me hurting her. I’ll give her the fucking world if she wants it. I just have to convince her I’m worth it.”
Taken aback, he asks, “She doesn’t know?”
I bite down the laugh that wants to escape because one minute he’s punching me in the face and threatening to hide my body, and the next he’s asking casual questions.
“She’s skittish. I don’t want to scare her, so I’ve been slowly giving her little pieces.
” I sure as fuck am not going to tell him I was kissing her on the porch last night, that her hard as rock nipples were pushing into my chest making my cock swell bigger than it ever has, and then I had to go take a shower to jack off. Twice.
It still didn’t help.
“She’s aware I have feelings, but I’ve assured her she’s in charge. You don’t give her enough credit, she won’t be pushed, she’s tough.”
He sighs and shakes his head with a chuckle. “She says the same thing all the time.”
“You should listen.”
Thinking on that for a few moments, he’s quiet before he nods. “Do you want help?” He points at the bike.
“You’re not going to try to talk me out of it?” I can feel my nose swelling and my voice sounds nasally.
He shakes his head. “No, but I’ll come with you if you want.”
The last thing I need is for him to try to temper the revenge that’s bubbling to the top. I can feel the pressure building inside me and I need to take care of it. My way.
I grab my helmet and swing my leg over the bike.
“I think I need to do this myself, to let this out before it drives me crazy.” He knows what I mean.
Mason saw me go ape shit on a child molester a couple of years ago.
I don’t remember anything besides him slapping my face while three of our guys held me against the wall.
The guy’s heart was cut out of his chest, lying next to him on the floor, and I had blood up to my elbow.
He nods. “You have your locator on? I’ll keep an eye out to make sure I don’t need to come get you.”
I pat my pocket over my chest. “I’m going after the DA first. I want his piece of shit son to wonder.”
He holds his fist out, and I bump it. “Be careful, brother, call if you need anything.”
Slipping my helmet on my head, I don’t answer. I turn away from him and start pushing the bike down the driveway a ways before I start it.
It takes almost an hour to get to the guy’s fancy fucking townhouse condo.
I guess after he hit his midlife crisis, he divorced the wife and started over in one of the more affluential parts of south Tulsa.
Everything about him screams rich guy wishing he was young again all the way down to his BMW convertible sitting in the little one-car garage.
As I walk by it, I drag the blade of one of my knives across the black soft top, the edge easily slicing through the material.
The little camera in the corner of the garage turns from green to red, but nothing about me is identifiable, and nothing about it worries me. I’ve seen better equipment at Walmart.
The lock on the door into the house is a standard lock that I could pick in my sleep. The closer I get to this guy, the more excited the beast inside me gets.
As I walk up the stairs, I can hear the drywall flaking onto the hardwood steps as I drag the tip of my blade up the wall.
One of the first things I learned as a boy was the ability to be invisible, to be quiet.
My uncles practically beat it into me, Vasilei and Dimitri, to make the shadows our friend and learn how to become one with it.
But, I don’t want to be quiet.
I want the fucker to wonder what he’s hearing. He should be worried there’s an intruder in the house. The smell of fear is one of the best smells of the enemy.
The soft sound of footsteps on hardwood reaches my ears and I smile.
His cheap alarm camera must have told him I’m here.
Taking a slow, deep breath, trying to keep the excitement churning in me to a non-distracting level, I press my back against the wall and listen to him taking slow steps in the short hall around the corner.
He probably has a weapon, if Mason were here we would bet on whether it’s a gun or a baseball bat. I would bet bat, he’s probably the type that says guns kill people instead of the person controlling the trigger finger. Both of my knives are in my hands and I step around the corner and duck.
Damn! I would have won.
A bat crashes into the drywall and while he is trying to pull it out, I slide one of my blades into his side, careful not to hit any major organs. Yet.
The old guy grunts and lets go of the bat, shocked by the pain in his side, and he slaps his hands over the wound.
He’s in his boxers and nothing else, and it’s obvious he likes to go to the gym.
Too bad he doesn’t know what to do with the muscle besides show it off to whatever bimbo will come home with him.
His brown eyes meet mine, shock written on his face, as the blood seeps slowly between his fingers. All I am to him is a black outfit with a black balaclava on my head. But I make sure he can see my smile right before I punch him and knock him out cold.
It doesn’t take long to drag him to his bed and tie him up and I don’t feel like waiting for him to get his beauty rest, so the ice water I throw on his face and chest has him gasping and trying to sit up.
The best part is watching him remember what’s going on, the blank state of confusion followed by the memories flashing through the mind, and then my favorite part, the fear that charges the whole body.
For some, they just freeze. Others immediately start to struggle and yell, and some even go right into hysteria and piss themselves. I like anger and yelling, it makes the entire experience more enjoyable.
He doesn’t let me down.