Broken & Burned Page 3

“What?” I asked.

  “Where did you go?” she asked frowning, an edge of fear crowding her fine boned features.

  “Nowhere why?” I asked.

  “You just ran a stop sign, didn’t you hear that driver honking?” she asked frowning. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, “Thinking too hard I guess.”

  “Okay, but in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m having like a really shitty day. Like the worst, and I really don’t want to top it off by dying.” She put her head back against the seat and looked so drawn it was borderline scary and the laugh that had been bubbling up died in my throat. Still, I couldn’t help the genuine smile that took over my face.

  “So your car breaks down, your guy is a total douche and you still can crack a joke?” I asked. Her expression darkened.

  “I was also late to work, got chewed out by my boss and burned myself.” She turned her hand in my direction to show me the angry red mark on it.

  “That and I’m pretty sure I’m going to fail statistics which I need to graduate, I’m pretty much homeless, borderline destitute and with no way to get to work in the morning probably fired.” She sniffed and her eyes welled up again.

  “Jesus Girl! One thing at a time.” I said, pulling onto my street.

  “Sorry.” She uttered and more tears slipped down her creamy skin.

  “Naw, I just don’t want you to puke again. That shit’s nasty.” She blinked at me and I tried a smile on her. She almost smiled back but then turned her head to look at my house as I hit the signal to turn into my driveway.

  My house was a squat one story with a basement and a detached garage in back. White with hunter green trim and well kept, my mother had loved this house so my dad and I kept it in good repair right down to the lawn and flowerbeds. Inside it was small but cozy, a two bedroom one bath built in the 1920’s with enough hidden nooks and crannies to make it worth it to my dad when he’d bought it for them during his more illicit activities for the MC.

  I pulled up into the driveway. The garage was really only big enough for the tools, lawn equipment and the bikes so Sadie stayed out here. I killed the engine and looked over at Everett Moran. She was only a couple of inches shorter than me, so about five foot six, but she was slender and fine boned but not too thin. She had a lithe figure, all graceful curves and sue me, some tits to die for under her camisole and soggy form fitting sweater.

  She looked pretty wrecked. Makeup mostly washed off by the rain and tears, skin pale and clammy. Eyes bright with yet more tears. Her hair clinging to her face where it escaped her braid… I had half a mind to get her settled and go pound the shit out of her ex-boyfriend. Not sure what it was about her that tripped my trigger with the protective instincts and all but she had. It was pretty damned uncomfortable to be honest. I sat up, my leather jacket making a wet tearing sound against the leather of my seat where they’d adhered to each other with rainwater. The sound startled Everett who jumped and I frowned. First time ever I wished I looked a little less scary. That was new.

  I got out and came around to her side. I opened her door and she got out stiffly. I pulled the trash bag stuffed full of shoes and clothes and turned for the house.

  “Come on. I’ll get the rest in a minute.” I unlocked the front door and she trailed into the house. I went to my room, glad I made the bed every morning. I wanted her to believe it was a spare bedroom. I set the trash bag on the floor by the bed.

  “Find something to wear that’s dry.” I ordered and went out into the hall to find her some fresh towels. She set the toiletry set from my glove box on the bed and knelt into a crouch, keeping her muddy knees off the hardwood. She scored a few more points with me.

  I found two large towels that smelled freshly laundered and I handed them to her. She had some things over her arm and picked up the bath kit.

  I pointed towards the bathroom door between the bedroom doors.

  “Through there, take a hot shower and get warm. Take your time.” She nodded mutely, subdued and just drained.

  I went to go get the rest of her crap but her voice stopped me from the bathroom door.

  “Dray…”

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Thank you.” She murmured and I could see that she meant it.

  “Yeah, sure. No problem,” I answered and I was surprised to find that I meant it.

  Chapter 3

  Everett…

  I shut the bathroom door firmly and rested my forehead against it for a moment. I breathed out a long slow breath and turned the old fashioned lock with my fingers, satisfied with the click it made. I turned around and eyed the old claw foot style tub. It looked really inviting for a bath but I didn’t dare impose like that, instead I started the shower.

  It took me a minute to get the shower going. There seemed to be more knobs than I was used to. I was used to hot and cold and pull up on the thingy, but this had three knobs. The center one is what started the shower. I got out of my wet clothes and folded them neatly on the closed lid of the toilet rather than leave them in a sodden heap on the black and white tile floor. The bathmat was cushy beneath my bare feet and I stepped over the high edge of the bath tub, the shampoo, conditioner and sliver of soap clutched in one hand. I set them down and unbound my hair.

  The small vials of hair product smelled like white citrus which wasn’t so bad, but were barely enough to get the job done with as thick and long as my hair is. I used the sliver of soap until it was gone. It too smelled like white citrus. Usually I used bath soap that smelled like lilac but I hadn’t thought to grab any of that out of the apartment… Just clothes and some other sentimental items.

  I washed my face, then everything else twice, using the sliver of soap until it was gone. I was sure I would never be able to shower off my sheer revulsion at Jerry, and Lord knows I would never be able to scrub that image of him with that other woman straddling his lap on my couch. His bare cock disappearing deep inside her… I heaved again and did my best to banish the image from my mind. It was my number one prerogative to get into a clinic as soon as possible and get tested for every STD known to man.

  I washed up quickly, despite Dray’s admonition to take my time and still felt just as dirty as when I’d stepped into the shower. I dried myself completely, dressed in my pajamas which I was now ridiculously self-conscious in, and set to doing the best I could at getting all the water out of my hair. Satisfied that it was as good as it was going to get I dragged the mass over my right shoulder and braided it swiftly, efficiently, and tightly, reusing my hair tie to bind it at the end.

  I stood in front of the fogged up mirror, my reflection pale but indistinct. I looked down at myself. I wore a black ribbed tank top with a racer back and a pair of men’s blue and white striped boxer shorts. I looked down at my pale pink chipped toenail polish and sighed, taking in a deep breath, holding it in before letting it out slowly and completely. I gathered my things and the towels and opened the bathroom door uncertainly.

  “Um, Dray?” I called out softly.

  “Kitchen.” Was his terse, one word reply. I rounded the archway leading from the small hall into the living space and looked right into the open kitchen. Dray stood at the stove and I blinked at his profile.

  He was naked from the waist up, his lower half clad in a pair of loose fitting black cotton lounge pants that were low slung on his hips. He was muscular, the definition in his arms as he stirred a pot on the stove spectacular, as was the muscle definition along his back and ribs. He turned his head to the side and his dark gaze landed on the dirty clothes and towels in my arms.

  “Go ahead and ditch those in the hamper.” He jerked his head towards the small mud room behind him. I skirted around the counter and put the towels in the proper receptacle and found an empty plastic grocery bag on top of the recycling bin. I put my clothes into it and tied the top as I reentered the kitchen. The tile was chilly under my bare feet and Dray was watching me.

  His upper arm on the sid
e closest to me was taken up by a black and white tattoo of a life like human heart wrapped in barbed wire. The valves of the heart seemed to morph into cold steel pipes which belched flames, hovering above the image, seemingly suspended in the air. He flipped something in a skillet and the way the muscle moved beneath his skin caused the heart to throb once as if it were beating. I found the image captivating and found myself moving closer to get a better look.

  “What does it mean?” I asked softly.

  “Symbol for the MC.” He said and nodded towards his jacket which hung on the back of one of the dining room chairs.

  I glanced at it, and sure enough the big patch in the center was a white background with a red bleeding heart on it. Wrapped around the blue veined heart was barbed wire and the valves morphed into gray steel, I belatedly realized, were supposed to be tail pipes. Orange, red and yellow fire hovered above the heart and I looked above it, a crescent patch arching above the heart read ‘Sacred Hearts’ another curving below it, cradling the image bore the state we were in.

  “Oh.” I said.

  “Go put that down.” He grunted and I nodded and went into the guest room and set the bag with my soiled things next to my small pile in the center of the hardwood floor. I returned to the kitchen just as he was plating a grilled cheese sandwich.

  “What’s on your back?” he asked and I turned around and brought my shirt up, keeping my front covered , letting the ribbed cotton material ride on the back of my neck. The air in the room was cool against my naked skin. Dray gave a low whistle.

  My back bore a set of grayscale angel wings, the Irish trinity knot between my shoulder blades where the life like wings sprouted from. The ink I displayed dipped below the waistband of the boxer shorts I wore, the tips of the wings ending midway down each ass cheek.

  “Had it done after my da’ died.” I said, pulling my shirt back down.

  I heard the plate click against the table and turned around. The sandwich sat next to a steaming mug of tomato soup. I smiled and sank into a chair, tears springing to my eyes.

  “Miss him?” he asked softly.

  “Yeah but it’s not that… he used to always make me grilled cheese and tomato soup this time of year.” I sniffed and smiled up at him, Dray looked surprised.

  “Oh, it’s just what we had in the house.” He shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly.

  “You even made the soup with milk instead of water.” I observed. I raised my eyes to meet his, he arched one dark eyebrow, his full lips twisting up on one side.

  “Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be done?” he asked and I smiled.

  He brought over his plate and soup and took the seat at the head of the table where his jacket hung so we were sitting at a right angle to one another.

  “Where do you work?” he asked blowing on a spoonful of soup.

  “Quick-Stop Coffee, it’s that 24 hour coffee shack over on Allen Road.” I murmured, timidly sipping my soup from its mug so I wouldn’t burn myself. Warm, rich tomato flavor slid across my tongue and I felt some tension ease from my shoulders and back.

  Dray eyed me sideways and took a bite of his grilled cheese after dipping it into his soup.

  “What time you gotta be there?” he asked.

  “Four.” I said and he shrugged.

  “That’s not so bad.” He said and I smiled to myself.

  “In the morning… I get off work at twelve thirty and two days a week have class at the community college. Not tomorrow though.” I sighed.

  Dray was looking at me like I was some sort of fascinating alien creature.

  “What the hell time do you go to bed?” he asked.

  “Well I get up at three, so usually I’m in bed and asleep by eight if I want to get enough.” I explained.

  “Shit. You’re making me a free god damned coffee,” he muttered, then, “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.” I blinked at him.

  “Do what?” I asked.

  “Get my ass up the usual time I go to bed to take you to work.” He groused.

  “I… You don’t have to do that.” I said taken aback.

  He looked me in the eyes, his dark gaze burning and intense as it bore into my own.

  “You’re right. I don’t,” he said, he left the ‘but I’m going to anyway’ silent but his eyes communicated it all the same. We finished our small meal and I felt marginally better, but exhausted.

  “Come on.” He stood up and nodded towards the guest room. I stood and began to clear my plate but he took it from me and set it down.

  “Bed, Everett.” He intoned gravely.

  “Okay.” I nodded and rubbed my eyes.

  “Good night Dray.” I said to him, and “Thank you for everything.”

  He pursed his lips and looked me over, nodding once and I slipped off to the guest room, shutting the door softly behind me. I switched on the light and looked at the room. The walls were a tasteful slate gray, the hardwood floors dark with a black area rug. The bed was dark wood too and heavy. Queen sized and filling the small room. There was an armoire and a dresser that matched the bed and curious I eased open one of the drawers, blinking at the overabundance of socks in it.

  Since when does guest room furniture contain clothing? I wondered. I opened another drawer after sliding the sock drawer shut. Tee shirts. Another held jeans… I shut everything carefully and quietly and sat on the end of the bed. I wasn’t in a guest room… I was in Dray’s room. But why would he lie to me? I closed my eyes. To make me more comfortable?

  I thought about it and came to the conclusion that thinking about it was just going to give me a headache. I switched out the light and pulled back the blankets. With a soft sigh I slid between the high thread count, black, sheets. I closed my eyes and lay on my side breathing in Dray’s scent which enveloped me. It was spicy and masculine with a hint of wind and road. I lay there, lulled by the sound of the rain in the eaves, trickling down the drainpipe. My thoughts drifted back to Jerry, to everything that had happened today. I’d been burned in more ways than one, and it hurt. I sniffed and curled in on myself. I shuddered and dragged in a tortured breath. A low moan emitted from my chest and broke on a sob. I wept bitterly, scared, angry and alone.

  Had Jerry given me something? How could I not have seen what he was doing? Who was Dray really? Was this the stupidest thing I’d ever done or what!? What was I going to do? How was I going to survive? I couldn’t call Mandy… Couldn’t impose on her and her folks, could I? No… God, how could I have been so stupid!?

  I lay in the bed of a man I didn’t know the first thing about, these thoughts and more chasing around in my head and I cried myself to sleep to the sound of the pouring rain.

  Chapter 4

  Dray…

  I lay flat on my back on my dad’s bed with my hands behind my head staring at the ceiling. She’d tried to cry quietly but the problem with old houses was the walls were paper thin. I didn’t know how to comfort her. I couldn’t fix it, so I’d finished the dishes and had come in here and listened to her cry. Which bothered me.

  Trouble was I didn’t know what bothered me more, the fact I didn’t know what to do to help her feel better or the fact that I didn’t know what to do about wanting to. These thoughts and ruminations kept me awake, staring at the ceiling for a long damned time. Now it was only a couple of hours until she’d be up and I hadn’t slept at all. The door swung open and the light flared on and I threw up my hand to shield my eyes.

  “The fuck you doin’ in here Boy?” my dad asked, annoyed. I sighed. Water dripped from his riding leathers and I sat up abruptly.

  “Shhhh!” I hissed and his eyes, a mirror of my own, burned a hole right through me. If I were a lesser man, I’d be shitting myself, but I wasn’t a lesser man. I was my father’s son so I gave him his own look right back. I got up and motioned for him to follow. I eased open my bedroom door and he looked over my shoulder.

  Everett was on her side, facing the door, a slight wrinkle between her brows but at
least she slept. I didn’t think she was getting much rest out of it though. I eased the door back shut and scowled at my father and MC President and he scowled right back, but he wasn’t pissed at me.

  “What happened? Where’d you get her?” he asked.

  I motioned for him to meet me in the kitchen.

  “She came rolling into the shop today, her car dyin’ half way into the drive.” I murmured when he joined me. I set the coffee to brewing.

  “So why is she in your room and what’re you doin’ in mine?” he asked.

  “She kept trying to call her ass clown boyfriend and he wasn’t picking up. She went out talkin’ on her phone, shit all spilling out of her ripped bag and I thought she was on the line with him. I closed up shop and didn’t think anything of it, but here it is like a half hour later and it’s pouring down rain and she’s standing out at the street by our sign looking like a drowned rat. He never showed up, turned out she’d been talking at his voice mail.” I poured us each a cup of coffee.

  “Still doesn’t explain what she’s doing in your bed and why you ain’t in there with her.” He grunted and I smiled thinly.

  “So I take her home.” I shrugged, took a drink of my coffee and keep going, “Thing is this calculator dropped out of her bag onto Sadie’s floor so I go to give it to her and walk right into the middle of this domestic dispute.” My father’s eyebrows went up.

  “He hit her?” he asked.

  “Naw, didn’t get the chance,” I thought about how he’d grabbed her arm, “But it was headed that way.” My dad raised his eyebrows at me and I went on, “He never answered his phone, because he was banging some other chick on their couch. She caught ‘em at it when she walked through the door.” I hung my head and scratched an itch behind my ear.

  “She pays the majority of the rent and bills, he sits on his ass and then has the balls to tell her that him banging this broad is her fault for her bein’ too tired to put out on the regular.” I crossed my arms. My dad leaned back in his chair and let out an explosive breath.