One Hundred & Thirty-Six Scars (The Devil's Own, #1) (14 page)

They all erupt into fits, Ryder included, when Tommy takes a seat beside me. Tommy is the drummer in Twisted Transistor. He and I have established a close friendship. After he showed me
New Home
we spent a little time together. But it was only ever as friends, he and I both know that.

“Hey,” he answers, flipping his cap backward and pulling his drink up to his lips.

“Hey! How have you been?” I ask, with the sound of Delinquent Habits
‘Return of the Tres
’ sounding through the speakers making me want to get up off my seat and do a dance, or attempt to.

His eyes scan Ryder before setting back on me, glancing at the bottle in my hands.

He laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, no way. Do I need to confiscate that from you?”

My hands clench around the bottle.

“No. No, you do not.” I raise it back to my lips and take another sip, letting the warm liquid once again, cover my throat before settling its burn in the pit of my stomach.

Phoebe’s still laughing, when her eyes drift behind me and her laughing abruptly stops. “Err, hey? You okay?”

“Yeah, Meadow? Come… I want you to meet some people.”

Shit.

Turning my head around, I see Tommy twitch in his spot before his head turns again.

“Beast, I’m not really in a good fashion to meet new people right now,” I whisper to him, making the girls laugh again. I turn around and narrow my eyes at them. “Don’t be mean, what if I fall on my face?”

“Well, if you fall face down, ass up… I’m sure they won’t mind.” Tommy winks at me. If it wasn’t Tommy who said that, I would have vomited in my mouth, but I know he’s joking.

Beast, however, doesn’t.

“I wasn’t asking you,” his voice is low, almost a growl.

The laughing around the table stops and Phoebe shakes her head. “Calm down, Beast. They’re just friends.”

“I didn’t say anything, Phoebs,” he retorts behind a smirk.

“You didn’t need to,” she quips back.

Silent conversation is exchanged between the two of them, before Beast lowers his hoodie from his head, showing his hair that’s a little longer than what I remember, but still quite short. He smiles at her before reaching for my hand. “Come, they don’t bite. Well… they don’t bite hard. But they bite where I tell them to, and they know you’re out of bounds.”

Taking his hand, with the bottle of vodka in my other, I smile. “Thanks for that.” I meant it, I don’t like men hitting on me. Vodka or no vodka, I’d still find the situation uncomfortable.

His face settles into an understanding smile. “No problem.”

We begin walking before I realize my hand is still in his. Pulling it out, I laugh. “I have a feeling some of these guys already know about me?”

“One, yes. He’s quite persistent on meeting you.”

Oh, joy.

 

I caught that hand pull from Meadow, that was bad form on my part and I know that. I’m here for three nights, or until this shit is semi-sorted with the Russians, so I plan on getting to know her a little more. It’s probably our past that’s playing a big part in the magnetic pull I feel for her. She brings out feelings in me that I’m not familiar with. I guess the only familiar way I can recognize those feelings are as I was with Jada, or Hella and the boys.
Protective.
Only with Meadow, it brings out a feral side of me that the devil himself wouldn’t want to cross, so when I saw that rock guy taking a seat beside her on the table, my body naturally made its way there. I didn’t lie, Hella does want to know who she is, but he didn’t care about it right now.

Walking to the table where the guys are sitting, a mini campfire in the middle of us, I nudge my head down to the seat next to me. Bringing my eyes to Hella, I run them back to Meadow.

Fuck. I got a shock when I saw her.

The girl standing in front of me right here isn’t the girl I left all those years ago. I remember those eyes. They still hold a beautiful haunting sadness in those bright baby blue depths. Her face shape is still the same square structure, and she has two perfectly deep dimples that sit on both of her cheeks. She’s fucking beautiful. It was hard to see it under the matted hair, ratty clothes and the severe situation that was happening around us before, but now as I gaze upon her she’s remarkable.
I won’t go there with her, though.

Hella nods his head to her. “Sup, are you Meadow?”

Meadow nods her head, taking the seat beside me. “That’s me.”

“So you’re the reason the big guy took so long to come home all those years ago?” he teases.

Taking a large gulp of her drink, she nods her head. “I guess so.” She brings her eyes to mine, tilting her head. I can see the questions in her glare.

Smiling at her I lean into her ear. “That’s Hella. He and I have been close since we were young. But he’s the reason we’re here. He knew Abby when she was little, both in foster care and all that.” When I bring my head back, my eyes divert straight to the red blush sprawled out across her cheek. Laughing, I lean back into her ear. “What?” Dropping my voice to a low growl. “This the first time you’ve had a guy this close to you?”

Her head snaps up at me, eyes narrowed. “Yes, it is. But that’s by choice. I don’t need attention to make myself feel better.”

Not able to contain the laughter that rips out of me, I swing my head back before bringing my drink back to my lips. “Hey, I didn’t say none of that.”

Shaking her head, she brings her eyes back to the camp fire. “So Las Vegas, huh?” she asks, keeping her stare fixed on the fire, the warm waves coming from the flames covering my skin around the cold night.

“Yeah. When I met you, I had only just found out who my real dad was. I needed some time to let it sink in, so I booked into the easiest and cheapest apartments.”

She nods her head, leaning back into her seat and taking little sips of the vodka. I’m surprised no-one else has come to ask her who she is and all that. The boys were a little curious about who she was. They don’t know much about her, just that I stayed behind for her.

“You know my story, what’s yours?”

I laugh, stretching my legs out. “That’s in the fast lane a little, don’t you think?” I answer, squashing all the memories I have of my past down. The memories I
can
remember. Surely the serum would have worn off completely by now, but all I’m getting are the same dreams through the night. Little white gaps in between dark walls, but that’s where it all stops. Hella seems to think it’s because I don’t want to remember so my brain won’t let me. His flashbacks came within the first three months of us being out. He told me that it’s better I don’t remember all of it.

I opt for changing the subject. “Do you live by the beach?”

She smiles a small smile but big enough for those cute as fuck dimples to pop out. “I do.”

“I figured as much.” I don’t know why, but I did.

“Where are you guys staying while you’re here?” she asks, tucking her legs underneath herself. The way she holds herself is relaxed and natural. She doesn’t try hard. She doesn’t even wear hardly any make-up. Everything about her is natural.

Pointing my beer at the clubhouse, I answer, “Up there. Why’s that?”

Shaking her head, she takes another drink. “No reason.”

“Yo! Beast, this fucker thinks he can take you in the ring!” Hannibal points at the pretty boy who greeted us here when we first got into Westbeach all those years ago.

I laugh. “What’s your name?”

“Travis.”

Nodding my head and raising my bottle up to the rim, I laugh again. “Yeah, I don’t feel like creating another funeral. Not tonight anyway.”

Strike one.

Meadow stands from her seat, balancing herself on the rim.

I stand quickly, taking her arm into my hand. “Wow, you okay?”

She smiles. God, that fucking smile is killing me. “Yeah, I’m a little drunk. I’ll get one of the girls to take me home.”

“I’ll take you,” I answer, standing from the log I was sitting on. The eyes I can feel boring into the side of my head don’t go unnoticed. All the boys will be wondering what the fuck has gotten into me.

“It’s okay, really. I’m sure… well, I hope… one of them is still sober. Although, that’s highly unlikely.”

“Yeah, so let me take you.”

She points to my bottle. “You’ve been drinking, too!”

“I’ve had two beers. Beer doesn’t get me drunk.”

“All right then,” she answers. “I’ll just get my bag.” She walks off to pick up her bag and I’m still watching her when Hella and Hannibal step up to me, shoving me in the arm.


I’ll take you
,” Hella mocks, taking a drink of his beer.

“Fuck off, Hella,” I laugh, shaking my head. “I’m just making sure she gets home safe.” That’s a lie, I’m making sure drummer boy doesn’t take her home. I know he’s been drinking water the whole night and I noticed he’s been watching Meadow carefully. Don’t fucking like it, and I don’t know why.

Throwing her handbag over her shoulder, she breathes out. “I’m ready. Wait! You’re on a bike?”

We begin walking to our line of bikes when I chuckle. “Yeah, it’s fine. Just hold onto me tight and lean into the corners.”

“Okay,” her eyes lighting up like Christmas. Handing her my helmet, I laugh.

“You excited?” My gut was wrong. I thought she may have been scared.

Her cheeks flush out as she unlocks the helmet. “A little.”

Fuck! She’s cute as shit. Damn.

“Where do you stay?”

She rambles off her address and directions about how to get there.

Swinging my leg over, I kick start my bike to life and look over my shoulder, ready to tell her how to get on, that’s until she’s already swinging her leg over and sitting comfortably behind me. Shaking my head, I grasp onto her from behind me and pull her arms forward, wrapping them around my torso. Her chest stiffens up against my back for a second before she relaxes and we pull out of the high iron gates.

Other books

Taboo by Casey Hill
Horrid Henry and the Abominable Snowman by Francesca Simon, Tony Ross
Henry and Ribsy by Beverly Cleary
A Ladys Pleasure by Jolie Cain
When A Thug Loves A Woman by Charmanie Saquea
The Italian by Lisa Marie Rice
Last Wrong Turn by Amy Cross
The Man in the Moss by Phil Rickman
Nothing by Janne Teller