“Know how much you love swimmin’,” he murmurs.
I turn to face him then I leap up and down, clapping my hands. He grins at me, flashing that deep, long dimple that completely transforms his face.
“Race you!”
He snorts, but I’m off and running before he even gets a chance to respond. I run up a hill, then down another until I can see the large lake, with it’s perfectly clear water ahead. I’m just at the top of another hill when Danny catches up. He grips my waist and hurls me backwards. With a laugh, I latch onto him and take him with me when I fall.
We stumble down the large hill, bumping and grazing our skin as we roll. Yet the entire time, we’re laughing. We hit the bottom with a thump, and Danny grips me, rolling us both until we flop into the water. I squeal as it surrounds me, freezing my skin and causing me to shudder. I manage to close my mouth and stop screaming just before we both go under. Danny doesn’t let me go, he keeps his arms around me, and moments later we both re-surface.
“Fuck,” he laughs, shaking his blonde hair around. “Didn’t plan on entering quite so dramatically.”
I giggle loudly. “You don’t do anything in half measures, do you?”
“Hell no, Tom Cat.”
I splash a heap of water at him, and he laughs, splashing some back. This starts a splashing war that has us both laughing so hard our stomachs hurt. By the time we get out of the water, we’re soaked, laughing and completely content. We climb to the top of the hill and sit, staring out at the horizon. The lake meets more rolling hills, with a few scattered trees. I lean into Danny and like always, we chat freely. Until the snake. I’m sure one day I’ll laugh about the snake, but for the moment, it’s certainly not funny. It comes out of nowhere; suddenly it’s just there, slithering toward us. I scream, leaping up. Danny is on his feet beside me in seconds.
“Stand still,” he orders.
Like that’s going to happen. Snakes are my biggest fear, and this one is huge. I scream so loudly that I hurt my own ears. My heart is beating heavily, and my entire body is tingly with fear.
So, I do the only thing that makes sense in that moment. I throw myself down the hill - headfirst. It wasn’t my brightest moment, but in my panicked attempt to get away, I wasn’t thinking. I roll and stumble, my body screaming at me to just stop. I can’t, though. I roll and roll until I hit the flat ground just before the lake.
For a long moment I lay there, groaning in pain. My heart is still thumping, and my body aches everywhere.
Danny is down the hill in a second, and when I roll to look up at him, I expect to see worry in his expression - instead, he’s smothering a laugh. As soon as our eyes meet, he throws his head back and roars with laughter. I cry out and cover my face, ashamed that I did something so stupid. Danny gets onto his knees, reaching for me but I slap his hands away.
“Aw, Tom Cat, come on,” he laughs. “It was funny.”
“It was not funny!” I cry, slapping his hands again.
“Tom Cat, it was fuckin’ hilarious. Didn’t you think of running the other way?”
“I was scared!” I protest, covering my face in shame.
“So you threw yourself down a hill?”
“Shut up, you asshole!”
“Aw, come here.”
He grips me, pulling me onto his lap. His body is still shaking with laughter as he holds me tight.
“It’s not funny, Danny.”
“Kinda funny...”
“You’re horrible.”
“Can’t help it. It’s not every day a girl throws herself down a hill in front of you.”
I can’t help it. I burst out into a fit of giggles too. It was kind of stupid...
“You make my fuckin’ days bright, Tom Cat.”
I snuggle in closer, laughing along with him.
Danny makes me content.
Maybe one day, I’ll tell him how much.
~*~*~*~
PRESENT - SPIKE
“Fuckin’ find out,” I bark down the phone, before slamming it closed.
I begin pacing the room. Fuck, things aren’t going to plan. This is causing me to get far more involved than I would have originally liked. I won’t stop, though. I won’t stop until that cunt is on the ground, bleeding before me, begging to be saved. He’s proving to be hard to find, though.
Fuck it. Fuck everything. My head isn’t in the game like it should be, and it’s starting to piss me off. Damn Ciara for coming in and confusing the fuck outta me.
“What’s happenin’ Prez?” Granger asks, lighting a smoke.
I reach for the packet, pulling one out and pressing it to my lips. I flick the lighter and inhale deeply. After a few puffs, I remove it and answer him.
“Hogan ain’t in the location we thought he was. The fucker is not easy to find and it’s startin’ to piss me the fuck off!”
Granger nods, narrowing his eyes. “What now?”
“We’re gonna fuckin’ find him. We just gotta be smarter about it.”
“What’re you thinkin’?”
I meet his gaze. “We make a deal.”
“Prez, that ended badly last time. You sure you wanna go back into that place?”
“Don’t got nothin’ to lose this time, so yeah, I wanna go back in. Only way to bring him out, is to get involved.”
“It’s a fuckin’ risk.”
I inhale the smoke again, feeling the nicotine swim through my veins. “It’s a risk I’m willin’ to take.”
Granger nods, even though I can see he thinks my idea is fucked. I’ve thought of everything else; I’ve tried everything else. This is the only way to get vengeance, it’s the only way to make him pay for what he did to Cheyenne. I have to make a deal. I have to get myself involved again. That means jumping back into the world of drugs.
“How’d you go with the girl?”
“What girl?” I mutter, snuffing out the cigarette.
“Ciara.”
I flinch. Fuckin’ Ciara. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head all fuckin’ night. The way she spoke, the emotion she showed. I had no fuckin’ idea it went so deep. No fuckin’ idea how much I’d hurt her. She has to know I’m not the man I was back then, she has to know wastin’ her time with me is just that: wastin’ time. I ain’t worth the fight for anyone.
Besides, she fucked me over. I wasn’t the only one who threw our friendship away. I can’t let her in now; I got too much on the line. She’s gotta stop this bullshit, and she’s gotta stop it now.
“Fuck Ciara, she’s messin’ with my fuckin’ head.”
“What’s she so desperate to get hold of you for?” he asks, taking another puff of his cigarette.
“Wants my forgiveness.”
“For what?”
“For fuckin’ me over instead of givin’ me a chance after Chey died.”
“Fuck man.”
“Yeah,” I grunt. “Fuck.”
“Keep your distance yeah? You don’t want her involved with what’s goin’ down.
“Think I didn’t learn my fuckin’ lesson last time?” I bark.
He puts his hands up. “I know you did Prez, I’m just doin’ my job. She’s got feelings there, anyone can see it. You need to knock it on the head. We can’t have anyone gettin’ involved. You need to find a way to get her to back off.”
I don’t answer him, I just grip my beer and turn, walking off. No fuckin’ point in arguing with him. He thinks he’s right.
Fucker probably is too.
I just don’t know what I’m going to fuckin’ do about it. The only thing I can think of doin’, is going to speak to Jackson in an attempt to get her to stay away. It’s not a bad idea - it’s worth a fuckin’ shot. I reach into my pocket and pull my cellphone out, and I flick through until I find his number. I can’t go into Hell’s Knights compound, so I’ll have to meet him at the bar. He’s the only option I’ve got now. This shit is far too dangerous for someone like Ciara to get involved in, and it’s clear she’s got a lot mo
re to hash out with me.
“Yeah,” Jackson answers.
“Jackson, it’s Spike. Can we meet somewhere and talk?”
“What’s up? Addison ain’t shittin’ you off again, is she?”
“Nah.”
“Alright, where?”
“Bar in ten?”
“Be there.”
“Cheers.”
I flip the phone closed and head back into the sitting room. Granger looks up, lighting another smoke. Fucker smokes like a chimney.
“Goin’ to meet Jackson.”
He raises a brow. “What for?”
“To sort this Ciara shit out once and for all.”
“Sure that’s a good idea?”
I shrug, gripping my keys. “It’s the only one I’ve got.”
~*~*~*~*
The bar is quiet, but she’s working. I curse as soon as I walk in and she notices me. Her yellow eyes widen. Fuck those eyes. They’re the most beautiful fuckin’ things I’ve ever seen. I never told her that. Probably never will. Her lips part slightly in shock, and she runs her long, delicate fingers through her thick, blonde hair. Fuck. I hate when she looks at me like that. Like I can be fixed. Like I’m a project. She can spit out how much she dislikes me as much as she wants - I see that damned look in her eyes every time she looks at me, so her words mean nothing. I know she wants to fix me. But she can’t. I won’t let her.
I turn my eyes away from her to see Jackson, sitting at the booth in the left corner. I walk over, shrugging off my jacket. It’s just a sign of respect. He’s not wearing his either. This is mutual ground, neither of us have a claim on it, so there’s no need to show our patches.
He slides a beer across the table at me, and I wrap my heavily ringed fingers around it and take a sip. Jackson watches me, his eyes curious. He’s looking at me like he’s my fuckin’ dad. I hate when he does that. Fuckin’ Jack is too good for the life he lives. His heart is far too big.
“What’s up, Spike?” he asks, lighting a cigarette.
“She’s up.”
I nod my head towards Ciara, who is now serving a dirty old man who is making no effort to try and hide his lingering eyes. That fucker. I want to go and drive a fist into his dirty fuckin’ nose.
“Ciara?” Jackson asks, forcing my attention back to him.
“Yeah, Ciara.”
“What’s she doin’?”
I meet his gaze. “She’s a problem for me.”
Jackson narrows his eyes. “Why?”
“She’s...I don’t know how to put it, but she’s tryin’ to fix something here...between us...and it can’t be fixed.”
“I thought she got the message after the visit at the warehouse?”
“She didn’t. Well, she did but she ain’t willin’ to give up. She’s determined that we can get an old friendship back. It’s a problem, Jackson. I can’t have her gettin’ involved in my life, and the shit I’m doin’.”
“What shit are you doin’?” he asks, giving me a hard stare.
I stiffen. “None of your business, Jack’s. I don’t ask what’s goin’ down between you and the Knights...same goes this end.”
“It’s my turf. Don’t go bringin’ motherfuckin’ trouble here, Spike.”
“Fuck, Jacks. I ain’t gonna bring no trouble.”
Jackson gives me a long, hard, glare, but then he sighs. “I don’t own Ciara. I can’t tell her what to do.”
“She’s under your protection, Jack’s. Tell her to back down, that this ain’t a clever thing she’s doin’.”
“She just wants your forgiveness. Maybe if you give it to her, she’ll back off.”
“No,” I grunt. “She won’t. It goes far deeper than forgiveness.”
“Why don’t you tell her to back down?”
“I have,” I growl. “She won’t have any of it. She won’t back off. She thinks she can fix me. She’s as stubborn as they come. That girl ain’t backin’ down anytime soon.”
“Ignore her, eventually she’ll go away.”
I huff, clenching my fists, “You really don’t know her, do you?”
Jack’s growls. “Fine, Spike, I’ll have a word with her. I’ll try and get her to back off.”
“Excuse me?”
I hear Ciara’s angry voice and freeze. Well fuck, she wasn’t supposed to hear. Slowly I turn, and I see her standing with two beers in her hands. She’s glaring at me, and her eyes are alight with rage. Fuck.
“How. Dare. You.”
“Ciara,” Jackson begins, but she cuts him off with a glare.
“I thought better of you, Jackson. Is that all I am to you people? Some pathetic case you need to sort out?”
“It ain’t like that...” he protests, but her eyes are back on mine.
Fuck those eyes.
“You,” she snarls, leaning down so close her face is only inches from mine. She’s panting with rage, and her words come out like fucking steel. “How dare you come in here and try to get Jackson to do your dirty work? You’re pathetic, Spike. If you have something to say to me, man up and say it. You can try as hard as you fucking like, I’m not going to run away crying like the little girl I once was, because honey,” she leans down, closer, “I got tough.”
Then I feel the cold beer hit my chest. I jerk and my eyes widen as she tips the fuckin’ beer down my front. The stare she’s giving me is that of pure determination and, fuck, is that hunger? Fuck her. Fuck. Her. I growl and reach up, gripping her wrists.
“Quit what you’re fuckin’ doin’ Ciara. Now.”
A slow smirk stretches across her face and she stands up straight, smiling down at us as though we’re just two customers she doesn’t know.
“You two have a lovely night, and do call if you need more beers.”
And just like that, she turns and walks off. I stare down at the beer that has now soaked my shirt and pants, and I curse loudly.
Well, fuck.
This ain’t goin’ to be easy.
The girl is gettin’ under my skin.
CHAPTER 4
CIARA - PAST
“Where are you going, Ciara?” my mother asks, following me down to the front door.
She hasn’t asked where I’m going, or whom I’m hanging out with for months. I know why she’s doing it now, because Cheyenne had a problem with her friend and is now sulking in her room, and I’m expected to stay and give her some company. Not going to happen. Cheyenne certainly wouldn’t do it for me. I meet my mother’s gaze, and shrug my shoulders. It’s so very teenager of me.
“I’m going out with a friend.”
“Cheyenne is upset, it would be nice if you supported her like most sisters would.”
I hate that. Just because she’s my sister, doesn’t mean I should have to drop everything for her. It takes much more to create a bond with someone, then just being blood related. Cheyenne has very rarely done anything for me. The whole ‘family bond’ thing doesn’t really cut it in this household. Sadly, it never has, but my mother still expects me to want to drop everything to help Cheyenne out when she’s in need. I don’t mind helping her either, when her problems aren’t petty and childish. I know for a fact this problem is just that.
“She’ll be fine.”
“Ciara, I am tired of all this attitude. You continually backchat me, and treat your sister like she’s no more than an acquaintance. She’s family. Family always comes first.”
I snort. “Yeah, well, funny she doesn’t have the same values when it comes to me.”
“Cheyenne would die for you, don’t be so selfish.”
I roll my eyes, and she crosses her arms.
“Sorry, Mom, but I’m busy tonight. Perhaps you and Cheyenne can have a girls night, because you do enjoy those...”
I’m being sarcastic and mean, but I don’t care.
She gives me the pained, hurt expression. “At least go and see her, she’s hurting.”
I sigh and growl loudly, before turning and storming up the stairs. I won’t
get to walk out of this house until I see Cheyenne and listen to her bitch about a friend who did wrong by her, even though she was likely the one who started it. I get to her room, swing the door open, and find her lying in bed, staring out the window. It’s seriously like a movie. Next minute, it will be raining and a sad song will start playing. Can anyone say ‘drama queen?’
“What happened?” I say, though my voice sounds snappy.
She rolls, pinning me with a glare. “You don’t need to be here, Ciara. I know Mom is making you. I never asked you to care and we both know you don’t.”
Well shit, now she’s making me feel bad. I drop my bag at the door and walk over, sitting on her bed.
“I wanted to make sure you were ok before I left.”
Her eyes widen, and she sits. That’s all it takes to get her to talk. “I’m not, it’s Lisa.”
Ah, the beloved best friend, with whom she fights on a daily basis. I nod my head, encouraging her to go on and trying to ignore the fact that Danny will be here in five minutes.
“So, I was seeing this guy...you remember him? Jerald?”
What a stupid name.
“Anyway, things were going really well until this afternoon when I saw him at the café with Lisa. They were laughing and joking, like they were on a date.”
God save me.
“Maybe they just ran into each other...” I offer, trying to play it down as much as possible.
“Or maybe,” she snaps, “she was trying to steal my boyfriend.”
“Have you asked her?”
“No.”
“So you could be moping over nothing? Unless you ask her, then you shouldn’t be jumping to silly conclusions.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have spoken to you...” she growls. “You wouldn’t understand men. You just hang out with that idiotic motorcycle man who you say you don’t like, but we all know you do.”
“You know nothing,” I snap.
She hits me with that icy glare. “I know you want him. Better tell him soon, Ciara, or someone else will snap him up.”
Every time. We cannot speak without her turning sour.
“Whatever,” I say, turning and walking towards the door.
I don’t bother saying anything else. Our heart to hearts always end in the same way – with Cheyenne and I fighting. We are always fighting, and the rare moments we aren’t, go by so quickly I couldn’t name any memorable ones. It’s not that we don’t love each other, because we do. It’s just that we have nothing in common. She’s outgoing, bubbly, and the light of most people’s lives. I’m quieter, more reserved, and tend to stick in the shadows. It’s how it’s always been, and likely how it always will be.