Echoes of Silence (Unquiet Mind Book 1) (34 page)

I grinned back and this time it was genuine. I grasped his hand and directed us to the inside of the bay where I’d dumped my school stuff and guitar earlier. Or where Killian dumped it. I never carried much when Killian was around. His strong arms carried everything for me. Even my heart.

“Okay, well, I better rehearse then,” I said, glad to move the subject away to happier things. “You’ve still got work to do, right?” I asked, nodding to the car.

“Yeah, Freckles, but I won’t be too long,” he promised.

“No problem. I like being here. I’ll play, you work.”

Killian moved me so his hands rested on my hips, his forehead resting against mine. “Could think of nothing better, baby,” he murmured. His eyes touched my lips. “Well, maybe one thing,” he said softly and then his lips were on mine. He kissed me until all of my ugly thoughts were just a memory, and there was only me and him in the entire world.

I knew everything would be okay. As long as I had Kill, darkness could never take me over.

****

My stressful and slightly frantic wedding was worth it when the day came along. We had it at the club and Steg officiated it. I walked Mom down the aisle. Zane’s eyes were clear of demons, only light remained. We were surrounded by family, and it was beautiful.

Of course the band played at the reception, and even Sam hadn’t complained about the “sappy love songs” we played the entire time. Kill had sat with a beer in his hand, watching me the entire time. I’d sang every word of my songs to him. That was until Wyatt kicked me off the stage to dance with Kill. He surprised everyone by singing an acoustic version of “Sweet Child O’ Mine.” I knew he could sing, we did duets all the time, but I didn’t realize he could carry the song with so much emotion.

Not that I had much focus on him singing. All my focus was on my boyfriend, my big, badass and broody boyfriend dancing with me.

The big, badass, now prospect of the Sons of Templar MC was going to get in trouble with my now stepfather and member of the Sons of Templar MC if I wasn’t careful.

“Okay, Zane,” I replied, with a smile.

He gave Kill one more look, and then he was gone.

I turned my full attention to Kill, who watched the doorway for a second then strode back to me.

I clutched the sides of his cut. “Do you have super senses or something?” I asked against his mouth.

He rubbed his nose against mine. “No, just good modes of self-preservation,” he murmured. “I like my head attached to my neck.”

I giggled against his mouth, trailing my hands up and down the leather of his vest. He’d just began prospecting for the Sons. He turned eighteen a few weeks ago and had dropped out of school that very day. I missed him in the halls, more than anything. But he still dropped me off and picked me up, if his “duties” allowed. “Duties” I was allowed to know precious little about. He was happy, finally where he felt he belonged. That was enough, for now.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” he promised.

“You don’t have to. I know you’re busy with... club stuff,” I told him. “It’s just another gig. You’ve been to a million,” I said, feeling bad he spent basically every weekend in the crowd or lugging my guitar around now that things had started to get serious for the band.

And I meant serious.

We had played more gigs around town, and out of town on the odd occasion. Word got around. It was good. Then Sam decided to upload one of our covers of Macklemore’s “Can’t Hold Us” on YouTube. It was meant to be a bit of a joke more than anything, a barb at that moment with Mr. Hazelton last year. We changed it around, slowed it down, made it ours. We hadn’t expected much more than a few views from Mom, who had promised to go around every computer in the hotel and view it.

We were up to two hundred thousand.

Two hundred thousand
people had viewed it. I was pretty sure that wasn’t Mom clicking and re-clicking. Though I wouldn’t put it past her. We were getting a response. Noah, Wyatt, and Sam got messages from girls daily. I got messages from boys too. Mostly gross ones, ones that Kill had read with a tight jaw. So things were going well. Better than we could have ever dreamed. It wasn’t a dream, though. It was work. Hard work. When I wasn’t at school or studying, we practiced. When we weren’t practicing, we were writing songs. We had a few good ones, and Wyatt was trying to persuade me to let us perform a song I wrote at the gig tomorrow night.

Kill fastened his hands at my neck and touched our foreheads together. “Freckles, I’m never gonna miss a single one of your gigs. Never gonna miss my girl owning the stage, owning my soul,” he murmured. “It’s not just another gig to me. ‘Cause it’s not that to you. I’m coming.”

My stomach swirled at his words. “Okay.”

He nodded. “Now we’ve got approximately two minutes. I wanna spend them kissin’ you.”

Then his mouth descended on mine, and we spend the next two minutes in the beautiful limbo that was ours and ours alone.

“Oh, Zane totally caught you making out,” Mom teased when I floated back into the house two and a half minutes later.

My gaze shot to her. “He did not,” I protested, red creeping up my cheeks.

Mom licked her spoon then put it back in the tub of peanut butter. “Did so,” she argued. “He came in here with his ‘I’m gonna get my buckshot’ glare and was muttering something about how he was going to make sure Kill was on clean up duty for the rest of his life, whatever that means,” she said, spooning more peanut butter into my mouth.

I scowled at her. “Whatever,” I snapped, stealing the tub from her.

“Hey!” she protested with her mouth full.

I grinned at her, sinking beside her on the sofa. She lost her anger and slung an arm around me.

We sat in harmony watching the TV.

“I’d like to see Glen and Daryl in a fight,” she mused, eyes locked on the TV.

“Glenn, hands down,” I replied.

She fumbled for the remote, pausing the show so she could give me her full attention.

“Dude, seriously?” she asked. “What are you? I was sure I didn’t drop you on your head as a child, but now I’m rethinking it.”

“What are you fighting about now?” Zane asked, yanking Mom into his arms as he sat down.

“Hubby, please inform my delusional daughter that Daryl Dixon would own Glenn in a fight to the death,” she requested.

Zane gave her a look. “We’re talking about fictional characters here?” he clarified.

Mom nodded.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Babe,” was all he said.

She sat back a little. “Babe is not an answer,” she snapped.

“It is when they’re not real,” he replied.

Mom held her hand to her chest. “You did not just say that.”

He shook his head and pulled her in for a quick kiss. Her eyes were dreamy when he let her go.

She cut her eyes to me. “Game changer, Zane Williams would own them both,” she told me with certainty.

I glanced at him. His huge tattooed arms fastened firmly around my mother in a way that made me think he would never let her go if he had anything to do with it.

He hadn’t let her out of his sight after he got her back from...
him
, the man I refused to think of as my father. The man that put her in the hospital. Broke her arm and made me face my beautiful and bubbly mom battered and bruised in a hospital bed.

“Tell me the truth, did I go overboard on my eye shadow?” she rasped the first time I laid eyes on her bruised face.

I’d let out a choked laugh, which turned into a sob, and I’d dove into her outstretched arms. We’d laid there for a long time, Zane standing on Mom’s other side, his hand on her head.

Somehow we’d got through it. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the reality of what happened. We got through it because of what we hadn’t lost. What he hadn’t taken from us. Kill got better, Mom’s bruises faded, her arm healed. Zane and Mom got married. Happiness sprang from the darkest of places.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“Thank you, thank you, everyone, you’ve been amazing,” I shouted into my mic after we’d finished “Me & Bobby McGee” by Janice Joplin.

I was almost deafened by the screaming that came after my words. I was pretty sure most of it was coming from the crowd of women right up front. Mom, Gwen, Amy, Rosie, and Lucy. They were at almost every gig—well, not Gwen as much considering she had two kids, but she was at this one. Everyone was at this one. The entire bar was lined with huge men in Sons of Templar cuts. I only had eyes for one at that moment. Icy blue eyes had been locked on me the entire time. Eyes that I sang to, even when I wasn’t looking into them.

“I wanna do something a little different to finish off our set,” I murmured into my mic, looking to Wyatt at my side, who was grinning. “This isn’t a cover. This is one of our own. I hope you like it,” I said, starting to strum.

I wanted to close my eyes. Wanted to escape somewhere different while I laid my soul bare to a room full of strangers. I didn’t. I kept my eyes on the one person who I wrote the song for. The person who owned the soul I was exposing with the words I was singing.

As deep as the ocean

As unyielding as the wind

Stronger than diamonds

I’m going crazy and becoming sane

My world is filled with the echoes of silence

Ride along, ride free

Ride down that lonely highway with me

Sometimes lost, but never found

I’m only me when you’re around

Freedom from chains is being chained to you

I’ll ride to the edges of the earth if that’s where you’ll take me to

Or I’ll stay rooted to this ground

It doesn’t matter where I am, as long as you’re around

Ride along, ride free

Ride down that lonely highway with me

Sometimes lost, but never found

I’m only me when you’re around

I’m crazy, I’m sane

I’m loud, I’m quiet

My soul’s melody is free

These echoes of silence are a part of me

****

“Holy fuck!” Sam screamed over the top of the cheers that followed us backstage.

He turned to me and started shaking my shoulders. “They fuckin’ loved it!”

“Dude, don’t give her whiplash,” Noah instructed, but even he was grinning.

Sam didn’t let me go. Instead, he yanked me into his arms for a quick squeeze before letting me go. Then he turned to Noah, clutched the sides of his shoulders and kissed his head before jumping around like an idiot.

“Grammys here we come,” he chanted.

Wyatt rolled his eyes, following him. “Hold it together, you dick. We’ve got a record exec coming back here,” he demanded, following him.

Noah slung an arm around my shoulders. “You okay, Lex?” he asked quietly.

The boys were grinning, but I wasn’t. At least I didn’t think I was. I felt almost out of my own body.

I’d sang my own song to a crowd full of people, and they’d liked it. Loved it. There was only one person who I didn’t know about. Only one person’s opinion that matter. And it wasn’t the record exec that Clay had invited here. It was the owner of the icy eyes that had hardened the moment I started singing that song. The face that had turned blank through the rest of it.

“Yeah, I think so.”

He squeezed me. “You were amazing. That song, it’s beautiful,” he reassured me. “Record exec has to be tone deaf or an idiot not to like it.”

I nodded. “Yeah,” was all I said.

Noah turned me in his arms. “That’s not who you’re worried about though, is it?” he asked, seeing more than the other boys.

I shook my head.

“He’d also have to be an idiot not to like it,” he declared softly. “But considering Killian is far from an idiot, and he is honestly convinced you are solely responsible for producing the oxygen he breathes, you’ve got nothing to worry about,” he said, his voice firm.

I gave him a shaky smile. “Thanks, Noe.”

We didn’t have time to talk more because we were just about to meet the record exec that might change our lives forever.

“Okay, so that went well. Like really well,” Mom exclaimed in excitement as we walked around the club.

She squeezed her arms around my shoulders. “You’re going to be rich and famous,” she half squealed.

“Eardrums, Mom,” I replied.

She squeezed me tighter. “You don’t need eardrums to sing,” she decided.

I rolled my eyes. She was right. The meeting went well. So well, that he promised to call us and it sounded like he actually would call us. Sam and Wyatt had tried to keep serious, broody rocker expressions the entire time and started shouting and jumping around as soon as he left the room. Noah had even full-on grinned. So had Zane, who of course had been there. He was uber protective of not only Mom but me too. Mom was there because she had demanded to be and had taken her “Momager” role very seriously. Not that seriously if the way she met Will, the exec, was anything to go by.

I shook his hand. “I’m Alexis, but everyone calls me Lexie,” I said with a nervous smile.

Will smiled back. “Nice to meet you, Lexie. You’ve got one heck of a voice,” he stated. He nodded to Mom. “This your sister?” he joked.

Mom stepped forward and grinned, though Zane was scowling at him from behind her. “I’m Mia, but everyone calls me awesome,” she said, oblivious to her husband’s death glare or serious forms of introduction.

It hadn’t been serious though. It had been informal. Will was a nice man and seemed to really understand our sound. Things were looking good. Looking great, in fact. But I couldn’t properly focus on that. All I could see was Kill’s blank face as I sang my song, his song to him. I chewed my lip as we walked, oblivious to Mom’s chattering and Zane’s clipped but amused replies.

That was until we saw Kill’s car parked beside ours and his tall body leaning against it.

I wanted to run over to him, into his arms, but I was unsure. I felt strange now after singing to him, after not being able to read his face. He pushed off the car and walked toward us.

“Hey, Kill,” Mom greeted with a grin. “I had a feeling you’d be waiting for our little rock star. Get a lock of her hair now. It’ll sell for thousands on eBay in the future,” she instructed.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t see Kill’s expression properly in the dim street light. He nodded his head to Zane. “You guys mind if I take Lexie home?” he asked, his voice rough.

I held my breath. It was after midnight; my curfew was one on weekends, which it wasn’t.

“Of course,” Mom said and I relaxed. “I can make an exception this once... don’t you try and silence me with broody looks, Zane,” she snapped, turning her head to him. “If I want a villa in Tuscany, I have to stay on her good side,” she informed him.

“You want a villa in Tuscany, I’ll buy you one,” he declared, yanking her into his body.

“It’s not the same,” she replied.

We both looked at him expectantly. He sighed and shook his head. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. That was approval in Zane world.

“Thanks,” I chirped and grabbed Kill’s hand before Zane could bark out any commands.

Kill took me to the passenger side of the car silently, opening the door for me. He rounded the car and backed out in silence too. I played with my hands, not comfortable in this kind of silence, especially after the song.

“So the meeting went good, I think,” I said finally, having to fill the loaded silence.

Kill’s hand came to engulf mine, which relaxed me a little. “Not a surprise, Freckles,” he murmured.

There was another pause.

I took a deep breath. “The song,” I started, needing to explain somehow.

“Stop,” he commanded, interrupting me.

My heart fell at his harsh tone.

“We aren’t talking about that now,” he declared. “Not when I’m driving and I can’t give you my complete attention. Can’t hold you in my arms. Can’t kiss you.”

My heart soared again. Okay, so he didn’t hate it.

“So we’re not going to my place,” I deduced after his words had filled up the car.

“No,” he clipped.

“You’re willing to risk Zane’s wrath then?” I asked, knowing he’d probably be timing us.

Kill brought my hand to his mouth. “Willin’ to risk anything for you, Freckles. Don’t forget that.”

His words filled me up even more, and I didn’t need any more the entire drive to the spot. Our spot.

The moment he turned the car off, my seatbelt was off and I was yanked across the car to straddle him. I didn’t even get the chance to say anything. Kill’s mouth on mine silenced me. Silenced everything. Silenced my soul. It was nothing but his mouth on mine for what felt like an eternity and a moment all at once.

“There’s nothin’ I can do, can say to you after that song, baby,” he murmured against my mouth. “I’ve never heard anything more beautiful than you singing those words, knowing that was mine. You are mine,” he said, squeezing me. “Also, I’m pretty pissed that that’s the first time I’ve got to hear one of your songs, in front of a crowd where I couldn’t drag you off to do that. Almost went crazy waiting for you to be in my arms,” he declared roughly. His hands framed my face. “Why haven’t I heard that sooner?”

I gave myself a moment to get my thundering heart under control.

“Music is my soul. My heart beats to a melody.
I’m music
. It’s me. Playing one of my songs out loud, to a human person, that’s laying out my soul right there in front of them, exposed and vulnerable. Do you know how that feels?”

I felt Kill’s gaze on me and his hands flexed. “Yeah, Freckles, I’ve got some idea. A part of you, your soul, couldn’t be anything but beautiful. I’m quite happy to have us on even ground, for you to lay it bare to me, considering mine already lays at your feet.”

His mouth touched mine again.

“Music is my soul,” I whispered against his mouth. “Which means my soul is never quiet, my mind is never quiet.” I stroked his hand. “Except when I’m with you. You’re the quiet to my melody. You’re part of my soul too, you know that, right?”

Kill rested his head against mine. “Yeah, I know that,” he replied, his voice rough, flat almost.

We stayed like that for a long while until it was obvious we needed to leave if Kill valued his life. I valued it.

I thought I’d be floating on cloud nine after tonight. After his words, after his reaction to my song, but something had changed, been lost after Kill deposited me back on my seat and began to drive me home. I couldn’t put my finger on it. He still held my hand in his, rested it on his thigh, bringing it to his mouth every now and then. But there was something that changed. I told myself I was just being stupid, convinced myself I was making something out of nothing.

It would haunt my dreams that I hadn’t trusted my instincts that night.

****

“How do you guys feel about missing prom?” I asked once we had taken a practice break.

Sam gave me a horrified look. “Prom? You do know that’s a guaranteed night to get laid, right?”

Wyatt punched his shoulder. “Dude,” he warned.

Sam rubbed his shoulder. “What? Lexie knows this. The entire universe knows this fact. What could be so important to miss that?” he asked me in genuine shock.

“Kill’s patch party,” I answered.

All the boys were still.

“In,” Sam said after a moment. “Totally. Screw prom,” he decided like he hadn’t been attached to it a moment ago.

Wyatt grinned. “Serious? Kill’s getting his patch?”

I nodded. “Lucky called earlier today asking if we’d want to play at the party. After he managed to clear it with Zane, of course,” I told them. I didn’t tell them it was Lucky who told me and not Kill. Didn’t add that Kill hadn’t said a thing to me. That I hadn’t heard from him since that night I told him about our record deal. It made me feel slightly uneasy, but I remembered what a big deal the patch was to Kill, how much they expected of him. He was busy. That was no reason to doubt us. Nothing could make me doubt us.

“That is fuckin’ badass,” Sam exclaimed. “Lexie, you’re gonna officially be an Old Lady.”

I screwed up my nose. “I’m not even eighteen. I’m not fond of being called old.”

It was a joke. I knew what kind of respect came with that title. What it meant. Mom had explained it to me when Kill started prospecting.

“These guys, these bikers, they’re different than normal men,” Mom explained. “Kill’s never really been a normal boy, never really been a boy. He’s always been one of them,” she continued, knitting her brows together. “When he’s patched in, hon, it’s all going to change.” She squeezed my hand. “You two are intense. Always have been, since day one, it seems. It worried me, still does, but not when I know Kill would do anything for my baby girl, jump in front of bullets if need be.” She paused, giving me a long look. “I love it for you and it also unnerves me, I won’t lie, baby doll. But I’ll never stand in the way of your happiness,” she promised. “You just need to know things are gonna change with Kill being in the Sons now.”

I gave her a smile. “Some stuff might change,” I agreed. “But the important stuff will stay the same. How I feel about Kill’s never going to change, not for as long as l live.”

I guessed a lot of moms might have dismissed such a declaration. But not my mom. She knew. She knew because she knew me and she saw us. She also knew because she had what I had. She had it with Zane.

She brought the hand she was holding up to kiss it. “I hope not, doll.”

She was right, things did change. It started that night when Kill and I were at our spot, and I put my arms around him as we stood watching the sunset. I slipped my hands under his prospect cut to find something hard, metal, and foreign. Kill flinched away at the same time as I did. I stepped two steps back, gaping at him.

His eyes registered something and he stepped forward. “Freckles,” he began softly.

I held my hand up to stop him at the same time I retreated. “No, Kill,” I said firmly. His jaw hardened but he stopped.

“That’s a gun,” I stated, nodding to the place it was tucked into his jeans.

“Freckles—” he began again, his voice soft.

“A
gun
, Kill,” I repeated, cutting him off.

His face went blank. “Yeah, Lexie. It’s a gun,” he agreed in a hard voice. “I’m part of the Sons now. It comes with the territory.”

I blinked at him. “A gun, one that shoots people, kills people, comes with the territory?” I clarified. I didn’t know why I was acting so shocked. I should have known. Zane carried a gun. I’d seen it many times. The club was into... things, things I didn’t know about, but things that required firepower. But they were men. This was Kill. He was one of them now.

“Yeah, Lexie. You knew this,” he said, crossing his arms. “This is the life.”

What was unsaid was,
“Get used to it. There’s nothing that you can do to change it.”

I stared at him for a long time. “If you carry a gun, then it means you might be in situations where you need to use it,” I whispered, hugging my arms around myself.

Kill was obviously done letting me keep him away. He stepped forward to bring me into his arms.

“I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you,” I croaked into his chest. “At you getting hurt.”

Kill stroked my hair. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me, baby, I promise.”

Sam stepped forward, peering into my face, jolting me out of my memories.

I leaned back. “What are you doing, weirdo?”

“No, I’m pretty sure I can see wrinkles,” he decided.

I punched him in the shoulder. “No, you can’t,” I argued.

He reared back, rubbing the spot. “Why does everyone think they can punch me?” he complained. “You’ve got more strength than you should being that small,” he added, regarding me skeptically.

Noah pulled him into a headlock. “People keep punching you because you keep opening your mouth and letting every thought pour out without using that thing between your ears.” He paused. “Maybe there’s nothing there.”

Sam pushed him back. “Whatever, you’re all just jealous I’m the most attractive and talented of the band. I’ll obviously get the most stalker fans,” he said modestly.

I laughed. “You can have all the stalker fans you want. I’m quite happy staying out of that.”