14. Penelope
FOURTEEN
The rain fell lightly,beading along the crimson petals.
Roses were arranged every few feet, and even more were draped along the coffin. Every head around me was bowed in grief; sorrow wrapped around the crowd and seemed to squeeze us tight.
My heart thrashed around, sad in a different way. I didn’t know Mathias King as well as people would assume. He was always walking in circles that didn’t revolve anywhere near me. Even as I grew up and was friends with Luke and Jamie, Mathias had never spoken directly to me.
He was nice enough, and after he’d learned about what Tuck had forced my mom and me to do, he’d walked up to us and apologized in person. Then he’d paid for us to go to a local spa to get pampered for the day. I’d never forget how uncomfortable he’d looked standing there in his leather cut, a blue shirt underneath, buttoned and pressed nicely, as if his wife had just ironed it the night before.
His gaze would cut back toward Margie, the stern woman he called his wife. Jameson’s mother. She had light hair, brown eyes and was completely gorgeous. She also was never seen around the club. The day Mathias came to apologize to us on behalf of his vice president, he’d driven over in a Buick, his wife sat shotgun, smirking the entire time. As if she knew her husband was uncomfortable but wouldn’t do a thing to help him.
Now, looking at her as tears stained her face and her son held her hand, I was the one feeling uncomfortable. I wanted to shed my skin, and let my soul wander over to curl inside Jamie’s. Just so he wouldn’t have to bear the burden of grief alone. I knew he was fighting his emotions, likely had to in front of the entire club.
Two hundred people surrounded the black casket raised over a six-foot grave. Leather cuts adorned every single chest, as if it were armor, a family crest of blood and bond.
The men and women of the Richland Chaos Kings were sad, and rightly so. Mathias was a good man, and now the torch of leadership would fall to Jameson.
The officiant was one of the members, reading from a book of poems instead of the Bible. Margie wanted his service to reflect her husband’s life, and while he wasn’t a holy man, he was a thoughtful one. Full of depth and emotion, and someone who cared deeply for his wife and son, and for his club.
“In Chaos we rode, but you made sure we always felt like kings. We say goodbye to you friend, but only for now. Not forever.”
Max, the officiant, shut his small book of poems and lowered his head. Everyone around the casket seemed to as well…all but Jamie.
His head remained lifted, his gaze searing the casket covered in flowers.
Words were exchanged, and people began to move.
My eyes were glued to the new leader of the Chaos Kings, even as Luke looked over, trying to get my attention.
But Jameson’s focus was on his mother and helping her as they made their way to a car. I could tell Jamie wanted to linger near the grave, as if he couldn’t quite come to terms with letting this be his last goodbye to his father.
I felt a pinching in my chest as I followed the crowd back toward the cars. Mom clung to Miles’ arm, but glanced back once, likely to make sure I was okay. She knew my feelings for Jameson had returned tenfold over the past year when he started writing me. She knew that I returned for the funeral, not because of my respect for Mathias, but my devotion to Jamie.
My eyes still tracked him as he walked toward the lead car. His mom clung to him, sobbing into his shoulder. His wheat-colored hair was soaked from the rain, his caramel eyes, rimmed by those thick lashes, were downcast and that firm jaw of his, more defined than I had ever seen it, tensed.
I just kept watching him, silently begging him to look at me.
Nearly to the car I’d ridden in with Mom, I finally felt it…Sunshine clouded by grief, Jameson’s gaze found mine. His feet faltered as if he’d just registered that I had been present for his father’s funeral. Mouth parting, brows drawing in, his expression twisted like he was conflicted over how he felt at the sight of me.
I wanted to smile but refused to let my lips curl up. The letters over the past year between us felt like a tiny ember, growing and growing. I took a step toward him, still being separated by at least six cars, but he cut a look over his shoulder, toward where his mother sat in his car.
With a tiny wince, he shook his head and then rounded the trunk of his vehicle and climbed inside.
I understood why, but the tiny thorn piercing my heart didn’t seem to.
Climbing into the car, I watched the cemetery fly past as we drove back to the clubhouse. I knew there’d be a huge celebration of life, and it would be full of chaos. Something I didn’t crave at the moment. I’d go to pay my respects and then I’d walk back home, then leave this city once more, allowing Jameson King to remain with a silent, secret piece of me.
The club was packed, and while I’d only been in attendance for roughly half an hour, it was enough time to be over it. Jameson was in a dark t-shirt and dark jeans, with brown motorcycle boots. His leather jacket now had a president patch sewn into it, and for some reason, the sight of it made me sad.
He assumed he’d take over one day, just not before his twentieth birthday.
My stomach rolled as the Sweetbutts kissed his cheek, one after another. Bunk bunnies sidled up next to him with hugs, wearing low cut shirts that had their breasts pushed against him. He smiled and seemed to welcome every hug, every kiss. Every warm condolence.
I’d waited to see if he’d catch my gaze again, but he never did.
No matter how long I stared.
“You heading home tomorrow?” Luke asked, sliding onto the bench next to me.
I sipped from the bottle of beer someone had found for me and nodded.
“Wish we could have hung out more. I barely got to see you.” He nudged my arm.
Luke was an interesting plot twist. While he was all chaos and fake bullshit growing up, at nineteen, he started taking on more responsibility and that began shifting his entire attitude. When he texted me, he wasn’t asking if I was horny, like he used to in high school. He would ask how my day was. When I replied, he’d give me a thoughtful response. He’d had a girlfriend last I asked, and when he had trouble, he’d ask for my advice and thank me for it.
We were friends as real as I’d ever hoped we’d be.
Luke lifted his bottle and gestured toward Jamie. “I’ll be offering to help him…not sure if he’ll take me up on it, but I know this club better than anyone else and I’d be loyal to him. We haven’t always been friends, but I think I’d be a good vice president.”
I nudged his shoulder with mine. “You’d be a great vice president.”
He smiled, taking another sip. There was yelling and laughter around us. Even with the passing of their leader, there was joy to be found as all the members from across the state gathered together to remember him. Most men were reminiscing about rides they’d had with Mathias, and different points of their memories.
I watched as Jamie walked by clusters of men, shaking hands and slapping backs. Men pointed at his president patch while saluting with their beers. I smiled as Jameson blushed.
“You ever going to tell him how you feel?”
My gaze slowly slid from Jameson to the man sitting next to me. Luke had filled out just like Jamie had. His chestnut hair was cropped close, but it did wonders for making his wide jaw pop. His hazel eyes were a nice accent to his sun-kissed skin.
“What are you talking about?” I smiled as if he were being funny.
In all our conversations, not once had I ever brought up Jameson. Luke had a few times, but I was always very careful not to.
Luke lowered his face, his chest deflating as he let out a sigh.
“I know you have a crush on him…always have.”
Shaking my head to stop him, his hand covered mine and suddenly it stopped.
“I’ve watched you for a long time, Pen. I know you…and maybe I’m being selfish, but the sooner you get over him, the sooner you might give me a shot.”
His hazel eyes gently prodded around my face, as if he wasn’t sure it was safe to linger. I wasn’t sure what to say…I had no idea he had feelings for me.
He stood up from the bench, finishing off his beer and then gave me a crooked smile. “Don’t feel bad, Penny. The heart wants what it wants…I’m not asking for first place, I’m just asking for something by default, if you have the room for me. Who knows, maybe Jamie will get over himself and let you in that ironclad chest of his. Fuck knows no one else is in there, especially not now that his pops is gone.”
Luke walked off, blending into the fray of leather and denim before I could respond. I sat frozen on the bench, unsure of what to do. I didn’t have feelings for Luke, and I knew I shouldn’t feel guilty about that, but the part of me that cared for him seemed to be bothered by his confession.
While I had a crush on Jamie, Luke had one on me.
I could sympathize with that, but unlike me, Luke had moved on and dated other people. I hadn’t dated or been with anyone because all I could see was Jamie.
The revelation bothered me. So much so, I got up and tossed the bottle away, finding my way outside. The night was cold from the earlier rain, and thunder still rumbled in the distance. Miles’ driveway was just a few down from the club, so the walk ended sooner than I would have preferred. I needed to think and to process why I was so quick to fall back into love with Jamie after he’d started writing me again.
I gave in so easily.
Maybe I just needed to take a bath, or read, get my mind off him.
Thirty minutes later, I was changed into a long t-shirt and tall socks as the sky burst open and rain pelted the roof. Mom and Miles were still gone, and probably would be until early dawn, which meant I had the rest of the night to myself.
After making myself a sandwich in the kitchen, I took it back to my room, but as soon as I entered, I screamed and the plate dropped.
Standing in the middle of my room was Jameson, wearing his dark t-shirt, jeans and boots but no jacket. His hair was soaked and slicked to the side, droplets of water clung to his lashes and nose.
“Jamie,” I whispered, searching his face, but his gaze dropped to the floor where my sandwich had fallen apart.
I assumed he’d offer to help me clean it, but he just lifted his chin and glared at me.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
My mouth opened and then closed. Why did he look so angry?
“My mom told me about your dad…I didn’t know you wanted me to tell you.”
Caramel eyes trapped me in place like a predator tracking his prey.
“You should have told me.” He stepped on the plate, the porcelain cracked under his thick boots, which had me back up toward the bed.
“Why did it matter either way?” My voice was nearly lost to the rumble of the thunder from outside.
His feet carried him closer, crowding me against the bed. I watched his tan arms shift, his corded muscles move with him as he reached for me, gripping my hips.
My breath was trapped in my lungs as he came nose to nose with me.
“Because moments after I buried my father, I was supposed to be drowning in grief and yet one look at you, and I felt...joy. You ruined the saddest day of my life…all because I wasn’t prepared to see you. I wasn’t planning on you…and then there you were.” His fingers trailed up, tucking hair behind my ear.
I wasn’t sure what to say. Too nervous to even breathe.
His focus went to my lips as he continued, “I wanted to be angry today. Sad. But then you showed up, and you look different, Pen. More beautiful than I—I…” His face flushed, making it difficult to track what he was saying. “You’re a tragedy in your own way, just hanging around in my chest like a poison, slowly infecting my heart.”
My fingers tangled in the hem of his shirt as hope crowded my lungs.
“I hope you forgive me for being selfish tonight, Pen. Because this day is about to end, and while it has been the shittiest day of my life, your taste is the only thing I want to remember.”
Warm lips brushed against mine in such a gentle way that I nearly gasped. It was silk falling to sand, lax and warm. My hands moved up his back, bringing him closer as his fingers dove into my hair, his mouth demanding more than he’d initially sought with his silent question. Our mouths moved in pace with the beating of our hearts, our breathing mixing in a chaotic symphony of want and longing.
I had no idea how long Jameson had repressed this kiss, but it felt as though it had been birthed in fire and kept warm for years.
His body shifted, and we were moving over to the bed, his hand moving from my hair to my waist, where he slid my shirt up until he was skimming the underside of my breasts. I inhaled sharply at his unexpected touch. I smiled into his mouth, so desperate for him to trace more of me.
Our kisses turned urgent as Jamie continued to feel me, his thumb brushing over my pebbled nipple, forcing a moan from my chest. We were completely lost to our lust as his hand spread my thighs and began sliding callused fingers through my slick center.
“You going to let me fuck you, Penny?”
His voice was a rasp pressed against my neck, and it felt as brash as a rope being tied and knotted there. I wanted him so badly, it ached…but I also knew this wasn’t right.
None of it.
“Jamie, I’m—I’m a…I haven’t.”
He pulled back as if he’d been shocked. His large eyes looked frantic as he searched my face for clarification.
“You’re nineteen…what do you mean you haven’t?”
I sat up on my elbows as he withdrew. “Just hasn’t happened for me.”
He was on one knee, in between my spread legs.
“But you look like—” He scanned me from head to toe. “That.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that except to assume he meant I looked halfway decent.
“I haven’t really dated since high school…”
Jamie just continued to watch me like I was an exotic animal, but after a few seconds, he blew out a heavy sigh.
“Fuck, we can’t do this then.”
Moving off the bed, my shirt fell as I followed. “Why not, I’m willing…if you wanted, then I would?—”
My face flushed as I tried not to sound like I was begging him to fuck me.
Jameson shook his head. “This was just for tonight. You’re going back to your life…I just needed a release, Pen.”
Hurt so raw and untethered, smothered me. I practically deflated back to the bed as I registered his words.
“Oh.”
He watched me, that odd frown in place as his jaw tensed and untensed.
“I mean, you are going back, right?”
My eyes were on the floor as I nodded. I had a good job, and my photography was starting to get noticed.
Jamie turned away from me and faced the dresser. “Good. You should go back…there’s nothing for you here.”
I knew that. Deep down, this would never work…I wanted to keep attending college and see how far I could go with this new venture. I didn’t want to be near the club, or the members. I didn’t want this.
But I wanted him.
“What is this?” Jamie asked from some place near my desk.
I hadn’t really emptied everything from my room, some things from my high school years were still here. I moved from the bed, willing the burning behind my eyes to stay in place so not a single tear would fall.
“This isn’t…” Jamie’s voice trailed off, and once I finally peered around his shoulders, I saw why.
He spun, holding the small piece of wood. “This is the carving I was doing that night you threw it across the garage.”
My feet shifted so I was next to him, gently taking the wood from his hand. “It was starting to look like a raven. I imagined it was, anyway. I wanted to find someone who could finish it, then give it back to you as a gift…but I never did…here, take it back.”
I handed it back to him, his finger trailed over the small head, and the beginnings of the beak. “Why did you keep it?”
I shrugged. “Because I was in love with you, and I wanted to have something of yours.”
His eyes snapped quickly to mine. “You were in love with me?”
Heat swarmed my chest, infusing my face, making me lower it. Jamie’s finger trapped my chin, lifting it up. “I hate when you do that. You’re too beautiful to lower your face, Pen. It’s a shame to hide it in any capacity at any time.”
Why did he have to be so sweet? He’d just broken my heart.
“…You were about to tell me how you were in love with me.”
With a laugh, I spun away. “Was…yes, back in high school.”
He remained quiet, watching me.
“When did you fall out of love with me?” His voice was so soft, I wanted to just break open my whole chest and let him peek at all the tangled pieces of hurt that had fastened through me since I was thirteen.
“Shortly after that night.” I gestured toward the carving. The lie strangling me with a silent grip. I was hurt and angry with him after that night, but I had sadly never fallen out of love with him.
His solemn nod told me he wasn’t surprised.
“Well, for what it’s worth…” He started but then shook his head, lifting the bird.
“Thanks for this. It means a lot to have it back.”
“Why?” My brows caved, curious why a chunk of wood meant anything to him.
With a choked reply, Jameson explained, “wood carving was my dad’s hobby…he didn’t think I could shape an animal on my own without watching a video…or him. He bet a hundred bucks I couldn’t finish on my own, and still make it look like something. I told him I could…reminds me of him now.”
I nodded, knowing how precious that must have been. “Sorry I threw it that night.”
He laughed. “You had every right to.”
The silence lapsed, and I began toying with the blanket on my bed, a little embarrassed that I was still in just a flimsy t-shirt and socks.
“It was good to see you, Pen. I hope you find a good guy to lose your virginity to…and to one day marry if that’s what you want to do.”
Pain tore hope into pieces, leaving behind a shell.
“What about you? What’s your future supposed to look like?”
Jamie turned for the window, which was obviously how he’d gotten inside. “The club is my life now…guess that will have to be enough.”