Sons of Mayhem 2 Chaser (Sons of Mayhem Novels, #2) (7 page)

We only see what we expect to see, so while he bloomed right in front of my eyes I was blind to it

I had one real close friend then. Katie. We called ourselves
blood-sisters
, like blood brothers, only we were girls. My
real
blood sister was away at the state university by then, and she was much older than me anyway so Katie was much more like a sister to me than my real one
.

It was Katie who pointed him out to me, or at least pointed out what he had become. It was a warm day late in the spring and we were in my bedroom chatting and gossiping.

I was lying on my bed holding a
Seventeen
magazine while she was staring out the window. “Yu-mmy”

I looked up at, a quizzical expression on my face. “What?”

“Not
what
dummy,
who
.”

I pulled myself up from the bed and went to investigate, peering out of the window. My room was on the second floor at the back of the house, and it commanded a view over not just our yard, but also that of the neighboring two houses as well.

When I saw what Katie was looking at it was like a veil had been lifted from my eyes.

I sucked in air in surprise as I realized that my dorky little neighbor had turned into a bona fide hottie. He was shirtless in his backyard, a dumbbell in each hand, doing bicep curls, his skin slick with sweat.

“I could eat him up,” she announced.

I hadn’t quite grasped this new reality of the transformed dork next door. “Uh, yeah.” My voice was weak with hesitation.

Katie turned to look at me, her hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. “What? You don’t think he’s de-lish-ious?” she asked, emphasizing each syllable

“Well—”

“You don’t just wanta eat him up? Huh?”

I laughed and gave her a little push. “Shut up. He’s a dork.”

Katie raised her eyebrows. “Doesn’t look like a dork to
me
.”

“And he looks like a twelve year old.”

Katie turned and looked pointedly out the window at the boy who most certainly didn’t look like a twelve year old, before turning back to face me. She had a concerned look on her face as she raised a tanned hand to my face and waved it in front of my eyes. “Kaz,” she said, her tone serious, “can you see my hand? Have you gone blind?”

I laughed and swatted her hand away before turning around and diving back onto my bed.

I rolled onto my back and spoke again. “I guess he’s changed a bit. I swear last time I looked at him he was a pudgy little pig boy.”

My friend laughed. “You need to pay more attention to your surroundings. You need to be more
observant
. You’ll never make
CSI
!”

I laughed, though I was a little offended. Back then, I wanted to be a crime scene investigator. I had my whole life ahead of me then, it was certainly a possibility.
Was
, a possibility. That changed though,
he
saw to that.

“Come on. Let’s take him something to drink.”

She really seemed keen on getting to know my neighbor. I felt a little embarrassed though, since I hadn’t spoken to him in months. It would look so
obvious
if we showed up offering drinks. Wouldn’t it? “Why don’t we go to the mall or something?”

Katie came and stood over me. “Nuh-uh. No way. The mall’s
boring
. The guy next door though?” Her look turned lascivious, and she slowly licked her plump limps as she leaned over me.

“Eww, you’re gross.”

She grabbed my hand and gave it a yank. “Come
on
.”

And that was that. We were going to see Dewey, the ex-dork-turned-studmuffin next door.

We walked around the side of his house to his back yard. He didn’t see us at first, and we stood watching him from behind as he lifted his weights over his head, exercising his shoulders, letting out gasps and quiet grunts as he pushed himself. He was only wearing basketball shorts and bright white sneakers, his upper body bare and glistening and golden in the afternoon sun, his young muscles visibly contracting and straining under his tight, lightly tanned skin.

Katie leaned over, her breath warm in ear “I could just eat him
up,
” she said for the eight hundredth time since she’d spotted him. She seemed to have an obsession with eating him it seemed.

I couldn’t help but giggle, and gave her a dig in her side with my fingers. This caused her to giggle too, and a moment later he was turning around to find two teenage girls, t-shirts tied up to expose bare midriffs, laughing and clutching cans of soda.

Katie composed herself. “Hey hon, we thought you looked thirsty.”

Hon?
It was one of the weird and endearing things about Katie that she seemed to start to speak like an old woman when she tried to flirt.

“We brought you a soda,” I said as I proffered a can of cola shyly. How the tables had turned since our first meeting a little over a year ago, when
he
was the awkward one, and I was the confident ‘older’ one. Now he was a good head taller than me, and as he stepped towards me I saw the muscles of his abs ripple. I bit my lower lip as his hands closed over the can, his warm fingers touching mine as he did so.

“Thanks, Karen.” His voice was warm and rich, so different to the squeak he used to put out. I didn’t realize it then, but Katie was annoyed that he’d only thanked me, not her. His simple thank you was the first chink in our friendship.

He wiped a hand over his brow and a couple of droplets of sweat fell to the brown grass below. His eyes bore into mine and he gave me a grin — the first time I noticed that infectious smile — as the can popped and hissed as he cracked it open. I couldn’t turn away, couldn’t if I’d wanted to, and I
didn’t
want to. It was game over for me.

“I appreciate it,” he said as he lifted the can in thanks before raising it to his lips and tilting his head back, our eyes finally breaking contact as he closed them against the bright sky. As he gulped the drink down greedily I felt a jab in my side and turned my head to see my friend raising her eyebrows and staring at me open mouthed. She didn’t need to speak, back then I could read her face like a text message, and it was broadcasting
He is
so
into you!

He lowered the can with a smile. “That was great, I needed that.”

I was grinning too, and I continued to grin when he asked if I wanted to go and see a movie with him the next day. Of course, idiot that I am, I accepted, and that’s when it began.

***

I
hadn’t finished telling them everything. Hell, I’d barely
started
telling them everything when I started to sob. I couldn’t help it, it just happened. I’d avoided thinking about those early months and years for so long, and it hurt so bad it just overwhelmed me.

Those early days. Shit. When I thought I was in love with him, when I thought he was in love with me. God. I was so dumb. But when the memories came rushing back I couldn’t control myself, I just started sobbing, unable to continue.

When Bottle offered me his hand I couldn’t help but take it, and before I knew it we were both standing as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around me and I sobbed into his chest. It wasn’t long, just two or three minutes, but it was the first time I’d had someone hold me like
that
in years.

For a few moments I felt protected, and I needed it, indulged in it, reveled in it. I tried to absorb all the warmth, all the comfort I could get from the strong arms wrapped around me. Who knew when I would get the chance again? Or even if I would.

I finally freed myself from his embrace. I had needed it, but it couldn’t last forever. And
I
wanted to be the one to end it. Not him. Nuh uh.

“Give me a minute.” I blew my nose into a paper napkin and moved away from the table to a booth. I needed a couple of moments alone before I continued with my story.

The old leather creaked as I sat down and out of the corner of my eye I saw T-Bone and Gauge shrugging and shaking their heads, unable to understand why I was getting so emotional.

How could they understand? How could anyone? No one had been through what I had been through.

I closed my eyes, just for a moment, at least that’s what I planned. Before I knew it though my weariness had caught up with me and I was asleep.

B
ottle

Was that the right button? Yeah, the little light’s on.

I’m getting the hang of this.

Y’hear that recorder? You’re my bitch now.

Hahahaha.

Shit, what a day!

Man, fuckin’ Red.

Why in the hell did he have to get mixed up with that crazy bitch. I had enough on my plate working those Mexicans without all this shit too. But Red just had to get his dick wet, didn’t he? Fuck.

So when that broad came in I wasn’t sure whether to believe her story at first. But shit, when we saw Red’s bike?

Damn, something was up. There was no way Red would leave his brand new motorcycle lying around like that. No way.

You should have seen her face when we opened up her underwear drawer. She had some sexy little pieces in there too. Twist could hardly keep his tongue in his mouth, and I can’t say I blame him. I had to give him a little smack for that. Can’t blame him though.

She’s got a nice little body on her, that’s for sure. Although we didn’t say anything we were all imagining her in one of those little thongs, and nothing else. I wondered if she was wearing one today?

I asked her earlier if she was really into our dipshit of a prospect. She gave a laugh like I was an idiot for asking. Then she said something about a girl ‘having needs’. I guess she was just using Red for a one night stand and the poor bastard ended up getting a hell of a lot more than he bargained for. I’d say it serves him right if he gets out of this, but he’s just the same as any of the rest of us, isn’t he? I know I wouldn’t have turned her down.

Anyway, she wasn’t wrong when she told us that ex of hers was a fuckin’ psycho. Tried to blow us the fuck up. Asshole. He’s one sick puppy, that’s for sure, and when a puppy’s that sick there ain’t no other answer but to put it down. We gotta’ find the little fuck first though.

I got Twist and every hangabout out looking for him. We’ll find the fucker before too long, then boom, bye bye asshole.

Ole’ crazy-eyes didn’t finish telling us about him yet, but she’s napping in a booth now. God knows how, it’s noisy as all hell out there.

She can’t sleep out there all night anyway, can she? I should probably bring her in here. It’d be safer. And maybe she’ll want a little something something.

Mmmmm mama.

Shit.

What’s that?

Sirens. Fuckin’ sheriff.

Shit.

K
aren

Jab. Ow.

“The fuck, Cheryl?” I mumbled.

“Who’s Cheryl? Come on, the sheriff’s here.”

I opened my eyes, blinking, my head pounding. It was Bottle standing over me, warning me about the sheriff. I blinked again, looking around.

It was night time now and there were quite a few more people hanging around than there had been earlier in the day. The air was smoky and the music was loud, guitar riffs pouring out the speakers and filling in the room, making it feel bigger than it was.

“The sheriff? What does that asshole want?” I asked. My mouth felt like cotton and it sucked.

“He’s probably interested in your house.”

“My house?”

“Yeah, the one that burned down this morning?”

“Oh yeah. That.”

Bottle shook his head and grinned, amused by my nonchalance.

“Let’s get you out of here. You can hide out back.”

I began to get up, then paused. Why should I? What would hiding from him achieve?

“What’s the point?”

“What’s the point of what?”

“Of hiding from him?”

Bottle shrugged. “Well one, he’s an asshole, so fuck him. Two, he might arrest you for burning your house down. Three, it’ll piss him off if he can’t find you.”

I grinned. His logic was sound. But fuck, I was already on the run from my psycho ex. I didn’t need to add a pissed off sheriff to the mix. Even if he was a dick.

“Send him over here. I’ll talk to him.”

Bottle squeezed my shoulder. “Are you sure?”

I shrugged. What did it matter anyway?

The point of any further discussion became moot when the sheriff stalked in through the front door like he owned the place. A big bearded man by the door scowled at him. One of the girls from earlier blew smoke in his direction and gave him a cold look. I suddenly felt myself warming to her.

I watched as his eyes scanned the room, pausing on Gauge and T-Bone who were sitting up by the makeshift counter that served as a bar, before landing on me. It
was
me he wanted.

He swaggered over, his eyes flicking around the room taking everything in as he did so. I didn’t stand up when he arrived at my booth and instead just raised my eyebrows at him
.

“Can I sit down?” he asked.

I didn’t answer. He sat down anyway.

“What?” I asked.

“Why’d you burn your house down?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. What was it, some kind of insurance scam?”

I shook my head at him. “I don’t have any insurance. I just rented that place a couple of weeks ago. It had everything I own inside. Trust me, I did
not
burn my house down.”

He pursed his lips a moment in thought, before leaning back toward me. “Well who did it then?”

I frowned at him. “You remember this morning?”

The sheriff raised an eyebrow.

“I told you about my psycho ex? About how he was after me? About how I was scared?”

“Your ex is a thousand miles away.”

“Bullshit. He’s here. And it was him that did it.”

The sheriff frowned. “I don’t think so. I think you and these criminal assholes are up to something.”

I rolled my eyes. “These assholes are the only ones helping me here. I’m telling you, the person who burned down my house was Dewey Roland Finkelstein. He’s been breaking into my house and he’s been filming me.”