There’s been so much that has happened; Elena and Reed were married, Seamus and Daisy announced that they were having a baby, and Kyle was arrested and booked with murder charges. He was framed. We’re all sure of it. The only problem is, we can’t find evidence to support our theory. Kyle’s framing is taking up much most of the manpower, thus, we’re not focusing on the cabins that need to be finished.
I hope to be able to talk Reed into hiring a construction company, or allowing a few of the guys to work with me and get it finished.
What’s important is finding out who framed Kyle Michaels, the Skulls Renegade MC’s VP. I haven’t known Kyle for long, just a few short months. My lack of knowing the man doesn’t mean I don’t want to know what happened. What I do know is that he isn’t the type of man who would slit a woman’s throat in his motel room after he’s fucked her. Somehow, all the evidence added up, though. His fingerprints were on the murder weapon, he woke up to the police banging on the room door after there was a complaint filed by someone at the motel.
I would like to think I’m a decent judge of character – especially after all the bullshit I went through growing up in Jimmy’s care. I can see the snakes for what they are – snakes. I can see the weak, the broken. I can see so much by just sitting back and observing. It’s what’s kept me alive for all of these years.
“Mmmmmrrrrr,” Jenna groans, rolling her body closer to mine. I’m taken out of my trance. My focus shifting from Kyle to the woman lying beside me. She slings her arm around my torso and clings onto me like a spider monkey. I want to shove her off – I really want to. But I won’t; I’ll take any excuse for this woman to be this close to me.
Jenna Lawrence is something special.
I watch everyone. But for some reason I can’t crack her, I can’t push back her walls and decipher her. She acts like a club whore. If you ask most of the men here, they’d tell you she is. However, I know that the woman is hiding something. I know this because I understand it.
The darkness.
The secrets.
You can’t fool someone else that’s in the same position.
I slide out of bed, careful not to stir her from her slumber. She works all the time, and since the new shipment of girls has come in, she’s been leaving early in the morning and not coming back into my room until almost eleven at night.
A lot has changed in the past couple of weeks. More of the Nomads have been sticking around. Slasher hasn’t left the fucking place, and I don’t think he will. He acts like he hates being tied down, loves the freedom of the road, but he has no problem rolling back into Gainesville whenever he feels like it.
I make my way out of my bedroom and walk through the clubhouse, noticing the members passed out from the party we held the night before. I shake my head, knowing they’ll all be grumbling when Reed puts them to work later today. I grab my pack of cigarettes from my pocket in my worn jeans, pulling one from the carton. I light it with my zippo as I make my way through the clubhouse doors into the heat of the late Tennessee summer. It doesn’t compare to Texas. In Texas heat you could scramble an egg on the ground, it was dry, awful heat. Here? It’s humid and sticky. I prefer the drier heat then to this sticky mess.
I take a long drag of the cancer stick that I know will one day take me. I’ve been lucky enough to stay alive for this long in this lifestyle. There were many times that I’ve come close to death – a little too close for comfort. I figure I’ll either get capped here, or the cancer will get to me first. I’m bound to find out one day.
“Didn’t your momma ever tell you those will kill ya?” Jenna teases, coming up next to me and taking the cigarette from my fingers, and she takes a deep drag, blowing out the white smoke softly. I like looking at her like this; when she’s vulnerable. When she doesn’t have that cloud of unnecessary makeup plastered all over her face. Her hair is messy, tangled, and she’s beautiful. She glances out at the lot, staring, assessing, and takes another deep drag. I want to know what she’s looking for because I know she’s not looking at something, she’s looking for something, her eyes focusing on her surroundings, almost like she’s remembering.
“Looks like you didn’t get the message either,” I grumble. She turns her face towards me and smiles.
“I don’t know why you’re always so grumpy.” She sticks her hand up and grabs my cheek, wiggling it like I’m nothing but a small child.
“I’m not grumpy,” I tell her firmly.
“I’m not grumpy,” she imitates me, taking another huff of the cigarette. She gives me a soft smile, and I can’t help but smile back at her.
“Did I wake you?” I ask, hoping I didn’t. She needs to sleep. All this work will slowly kill her.
“Nah, I was awake.” She winks at me, skimming her hand along my torso as she reaches up and places the cigarette back into my mouth. Tease.
“D?” She finally lets go of my cheek, staring at me intently.
“Da?” I respond, quickly forgetting how I need to speak English when talking to Jen. I may have only been in Russia for a few years until I was ripped from my family, and yet, I remember so much of the language. It’s my only tie to my family, to my father, and to my mother – so I choose to remember it, to speak it in their memory. To hold that respect. “Yes, I mean, yes.”
“I know what you mean. I can pick up on things you know?” She sounds irritated at me. I wasn’t implying that she was stupid, but here we are, with her naturally assuming that’s what I was saying about her. “I was just going to ask you about before. We haven’t talked about it at all.”
“Before?”
“Yeah, when we went to South Carolina to pick up the shipment of girls. That woman, she acted like she knew you. She said things to you that I know you understood. And, I want to know what happened, how you know her, what she said.”
“You want to know a lot,” I tell her, my walls coming up. It’s funny, a woman who I don’t know anything about – or not much else than the fact she’s been deemed the Skulls Renegade whore- she’s been here for a little over nine years, or maybe it’s ten? In all reality, it infuriates me that the men here treat her like a whore. Me, Reed, Kyle, Seamus, the girls, and even that little shit Enzo are the only ones who show her respect. I can’t stand it when I see one of the Nomads come up and slide their hungry hands over her ass, or grope her in front of the group of us. I want to take their wrists and snap them. To teach them a lesson on how to be treating her. She deserves much better than that. One day, I intend to show her what she truly deserves.
“Well?”
“You’re awfully nosy, kotenok,” I tell her, calling her kitten in my native tongue.
“And that is shocking to you, how? She said things to you and I want to know what she said. And I really want to know what the hell you just called me!” I looked over at her, the way her eyes are locked on mine, the nervous habit she has of biting her bottom lip – thinking she is either going to get what she wants, or get denied. I could have fun with this, I could make this a win-win situation for both of us.
“Fine. I will give you what you want little kotenok, but only if you give me something in return,” I tell her, a devious smile coming across my face.
“Understood.” She palms my cock through my jeans. Fuck me sideways. Dammit, her hand feels so fucking good stroking me. I place my hand behind her head and grab on firmly to her hair.
“No,” I tell her, her eyes searching me for some sort of answer. She’s wondering why I don’t want her to stroke my cock. I do want her to, but not like this.
“What’s the matter, D?” The men here always expect sexual favors from her. I, however, do not. When she becomes mine, I will take her in this way. I will not use her body for my own pleasure. I want to satisfy her. I want to show her what she has been missing. I want so much from this woman. It’s odd. I’ve never been this invested in being with someone. I’ve never wanted to have a woman in my bed, and yet I do. I want lots of things from her; only she doesn’t
know it yet.
“I want to learn more about you, Jenna. Here’s my suggestion, you tell me something about you, and I’ll tell you something about that day.”
“For every one thing I tell you about me….you’ll tell me something in return,” she says, searching my eyes for my honesty.
“Da, I give you my word.” I do, I’d give her so much more than my word if I could.
“Fine, but we’re going to get breakfast. I’m starved,” she informs me, strutting back into the clubhouse.
Chapter 3
I desire the things which will destroy me in the end. -MBDW
Jenna
Shit. Why in the hell did I just agree to that? It was dumb. So beyond dumb of me. And yet, here I am, sitting at Shelby’s Diner with a stack of flapjacks in front of me that’s a mile high, bacon, scrambled eggs, and some fruit. He looks at me like I won’t be eating everything in front of my face, but here we are. Dmitri sticks his hand out to grab a slice of bacon, and I smack it away.
“Next time, I’ll use the knife,” I threaten him very seriously. He cocks an eyebrow at me, a smirk dragging across his face before he leans back and takes a bite out of a freshly baked biscuit.
“Ladies first,” Dmitri urges. I almost forgot about our agreement, or maybe deal is the better word. I have to think of something. Something that is vague but real enough to tell him about me.
“The MC isn’t new to me. When I was a kid I grew up in a MC.” He turns his head and stares at me, looks me up and down. I’m in a black Skulls Renegade MC tank, in jean shorts, and have a black hoodie hanging over my shoulders because I have a chill. I look the part, the MC whore. My black hair, my piercings, my dark eye makeup, and even the tattoos.
“My father was the Enforcer,” I tell him, unsure of why I’m still talking. Dmitri takes a bite of his eggs and watches me. I don’t like how he stares all the time. It’s like he can see through me, like he can see every piece of darkness that’s inside me. No one has ever been able to figure me out. I’ve prided myself knowing that I’m always the one with the upper hand, even when no one arounds me knows that. But with Dmitri, I’m sure that he can see through me. If he can’t now, he will someday. I’m afraid for that day.
“The woman was my sister, Katya. She’s a year younger than me. I hadn’t seen her since I was a child, since right before I came to the states.” Dmitri’s never opened up to me, not once in the few months that I’ve known him. He’s always been this dark enigma. This presence that you knew was always surrounding you.
“How’d you know she was your sister?” I ask him, taking a bite of the bacon in front of me. I chewed slowly, savoring the smoky sensation that hit my taste buds as I waited for his response.
“She called me brother in Russian, knew facts of me, of my family. She’s as bratty as I remember her to be,” he mutters, looking as if remembering speaking to his sister makes him hurt. I don’t want him to hurt. I want to slide across to the opposite site of the booth and tell him that I will take that pain for him. I can’t explain the way I feel about Dmitri. It’s not easy for me to understand. When I think long and hard about it, I think that he reminds me of myself.
“What did she say to you?”
“Ladies first,” Dmitri repeats. I think hard before I tell him my next piece of information. It’s hard – it shouldn’t be so difficult, but it just is. I’m Jenna Lawrence to these people. I’ve been Jenna for almost ten damn years. I’m no longer Tegan Hill. I’m Jenna, but I’m also Tegan. Or maybe Tegan is just a tiny part of Jenna. Tegan is buried somewhere deep inside me. Jenna, however, is the woman hellbent on her revenge, her own personal vendetta.
“My mother was killed when I was a little girl. She had problems. I barely remember her in my life, to be honest. She was just a young girl who got pregnant, and my father wanted me, so he paid her off. She didn’t want me, but my Dad did. Then, she came back when she did want me, then she was murdered,” I add, not looking Dmitri in the eyes as I bring the hot cup of coffee too my lips and sip on it. When I look back up, he isn’t judging me, he’s just staring through me.
“I’m sorry that this happened to you.”
“It’s okay. We’re all given what we can handle,” I tell him, faking a small smile to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work; he still has those lips tightly drawn on his face. He knows what I’m doing, how I’m diverting. He reads me; he is seeing right through me. I should be scared. For some reason, I’m not. I don’t know why. Somehow, I think I do know why. I think it’s because the darkness that’s inside of me is inside of him. We’re similar. It’s why I feel so….safe with Dmitri.
“Katya told Reed that there was a gift and then she told me that it was directed to me. I still haven’t figured it out yet. Katya was very indecisive, even as a child. I will figure it out soon. I’m sure of it.”
“I heard what else she said to you,” I tell him. I look at his eyes, his dark brown irises lock on mine. “She called you Dmitri Petrov.” I’m good with a computer. I did my fair share of digging and found out a bit about what I can assume is Dmitri’s family. I also found that Dmitri was sold by his mother– that made my heart hurt. It also made me furious. I know what mothers feel. I’m a mother myself, and I would never, even if I was in the worst circumstances, put my son through what she did to hers.
I discovered that the Petrov’s were a very prominent family in Russia. Mikahla Petrov was previously Mikahla Volkolv. Her half-brother is Valentin Volkolv, the leader of the Russian bratva.
Dmitri isn’t just anyone. He’s Russian royalty who was sold by his mother to the vilest man on the planet.
Katya spoke to her brother like he was running away from his past. Maybe he is, but I had to agree with her – there was no running away what you were born into. I learned that the hard way. I often think that maybe if I had been born into another family I wouldn’t have had to endure what I did that day. In the end, it doesn’t matter because I did, and my horrors made me strong. It destroyed what was left of the little, weak Tegan Hill and turned me into Jenna.
Sometimes, I miss Tegan, the young, innocent girl who radiated happiness. That day turned me into something dark. It transformed me into…this. I don’t hate myself, but I wonder what will become of me after I finally get my revenge. What will happen to me after the one thing that has fueled my fire finally burns to ash?
“What are you getting at?” he growls, irritation lacing through his voice.
“I might be just a whore, but I found out everything about the Petrov family in two hours. You’re Russian royalty, Dmitri. Don’t you think that’s going to come back to haunt you at some point? Your sister was right, you can’t just hide here in this MC forever. Once they discover where you are, they will try to find you. You’re a threat to them and they…”
“Enough!” Dmitri slams his fist down onto the linoleum covered table in front of us. A few patrons surrounding our table just stare in our direction after his outburst. I offer a small smile ensuring them that we’re fine.
His breathing is ragged, calculating. I just told him something he didn’t want to hear. “I won’t have you referring to yourself as just a whore, Jenna. You are much more than that. Do not disrespect yourself like that in front of me again.”
I take in a deep breath, regretting what I’m going to say almost as it comes straight out of my mouth. “Or what, Dmitri?”
His eyes flicker back to mine. “You don’t want to know, girl.”
Chapter 4
Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.
- Mary Oliver
Jenna
Leaving that diner was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Not because the food was amazing – it wasn’t anything special. But because what Dmitri just spat out of his mouth turned me on more than anything else in this entire world.
The man is a mystery. Part of me thinks that he’ll always be this way, no matter what. A big
part of me just wants to break through his shell and learn everything there is to know about him. Then, my big head floats back down to reality and realizes the likelihood of that ever happening is slim to none.
I need to stop thinking about Dmitri once and for all. I won’t lie. The pull I have towards that man is crazy. I’m surprised that I haven’t fucked him yet. He’s fine as hell, domineering, a total alpha male, and honestly, he’s exactly my type.
I can’t pursue anything, though. My pussy is doing my thinking and not my actual brain. I can’t be with anyone from the Skulls Renegade MC, and yes, that includes Dmitri. Being with someone from the club would affect everything I’ve done to prepare myself for what I’ll have to do one day.
I had a plan.
I have a plan.
Find Will Michaels.
Finally make a move on Bones.
Kill them both.
Boom. Bang. Bada-Bing.
I made a promise to myself on that dreadful day to do whatever it took to get vengeance for my father, and most importantly, to get my very own revenge.
Keeping that promise to myself means that I had to drive all the way up to Nashville to meet up with an old buddy of mine.
I get a hotel at this rinky-dink place on the edge of town and take a seat at the adjoining Blue’s Bar & Grill. It isn’t much of anything, to be honest. It looks like a place the old timers would go. Old panel wood going up the walls, almost pitch-black floors, and I can’t tell if that’s what they’re supposed to look like, or if it’s the wear and tear over the years. The way my high heeled boots stick to the floor when I walk doesn’t give me a good feeling.
I find my way to a booth at the end of the bar, slide in, and wait for Darius to show up. I’ve known Darius for years. The story of crossing paths with Darius isn’t a pretty one. He found me at one of the lowest points of my life and vowed to help me do whatever I needed to do. So, here we are.