Jerk: Delinquent Rebels MC (15 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“I don’t understand why we had to drive all the way to Trentville to get wine,” April said with a sigh, as she leaned on the little green shopping cart. Her mom shot her a glare—though it lacked venom—and then turned back to the shelves loaded with wine bottles.

“You know Cascade Falls is lacking in the wine department, honey,” her mom said, squinting at one of the labels. “I want to make sure we have the best for my bachelorette party.”

April held back her sigh this time, knowing there was no sense in fighting it. Her mom had been partying all summer long with her friends, bringing them to James’s fancy house for garden parties and dinner get-togethers, and yet apparently this bachelorette party she was hosting this weekend would be
different
. For starters, it was being held at her mom’s apartment, keeping with the tradition of the bride and groom steering clear of one another before the wedding. The place was still on the market, drawing in interested parties each week, which meant April had to focus on keeping everything as neat as possible.

However, she fully expected to have a massive clean-up on her hands after her mom and her friends partied up a storm. There were games to be played, drinks to be drunk, and lots of treats to be devoured once everyone was too drunk to realize how many calories were in each snack. The whole ordeal was supposed to be exciting, but April just couldn’t get herself in the festive mood. Van hadn’t come home, and it had been two days since he went out to make the delivery for his dad.

When midnight hit the first night, April nearly had a full-blown mental breakdown. However, she calmed herself with a few delusions that would tide her over until the morning: the weather was bad, the client was late on picking up the delivery, Van had gone out drinking with the boys after, it was too late to drive home. She thought about all those possibilities, which managed to get her to sleep when he didn’t make it home initially.

But now here she was, two days later. No phone call. No explanation. No Van. She’d seen James when she picked her mom up, but he seemed totally unfazed by his son’s absence. April had tried to talk to him about it, but he seemed distant and uninterested, especially with her mom around. Irritated, she let it slide for the moment, but she couldn’t stop worrying about him. It wasn’t like Van not to return her texts, and if he didn’t pick up the first time she called, he always did the second time. Now, every call went to voicemail, and the worry was eating her up.

In a way, getting out of Cascade Falls and doing a little shopping with her mom was a good distraction. They’d picked up decorations and snacks before hitting the liquor store, and her mom spent a lot of the time asking for April’s opinion on almost everything they purchased. At least that managed to keep her a little busy.

Normally, it was the job of the maid of honor to host the bachelorette party, but, true to form, her mom wouldn’t trust anyone else to throw the bash. She wouldn’t even allow April to play hostess, thinking that it was too much to ask of her. Apparently, throwing a bachelorette party was too much to ask, but playing servant at all these dinner and garden parties was perfectly acceptable. 

“Do you think I should get some non-alcoholic wine too?” her mom asked, after loading up the cart with a few bottles of pricey reds. April followed her toward the non-alcoholic wine in question, her lips set in a frown.

“Or they could just drink water,” she suggested, as her mom crouched down to read the labels. “It’s free.”

“Oh, April, don’t be ridiculous.” Her mom started adding more bottles to the cart. “Everyone should be included.”

“Mom,” she said, shaking her head, “you know everyone is going to drink.”

It was astounding just how much all the ladies in Cascade Falls would chug back. Anytime her mom had hosted something since April had returned to her hometown, someone had to be sent home in one of the two taxi cabs in town. Once, much to her horror, an old high school teacher of hers, who’d ended up at one of the events as a plus-one, puked all over the downstairs guest bathroom at the Palmer residence.

And it definitely wasn’t her mom who was doing the cleaning that night. April had done most of it, but she forced Van to clean the spittle that caked onto the toilet.

It took a few days before she felt clean again, the scent of red-wine-tinted puke tickling her nose. Van, meanwhile, had claimed he was used to tidying up after drunks who’d had too much to drink. The memory made her stomach churn; she just wanted him to come home already.

Or, at the very least, return her phone call. Was that so much to ask?

“Honey, look! How cute are these?”

April dragged herself around the end of the aisle, her eyebrows rising ever higher when her mom showed her a few mini bottles of tequila.

“These might be fun little party favors,” her mom said, and before April could stop her, she started shoveling dozens of them into the shopping cart.

“Those are lethal,” was April’s only objection. From her college era, she knew just how dangerous those tiny bottles of alcohol could be. Sure, they looked innocent enough, but they packed a punch; one minute you were guzzling two at a time, and the next you were passing out in someone’s shower
. Not pretty.

They were in the mixer aisle for a good ten minutes, her mom going through just about every bottle that was in some way vibrant or eye-catching—as if that made any of that sweet crap taste any better—when April’s phone went off. A couple at the other end of the aisle glanced her way as the device shrieked for her attention, and she turned away, a little embarrassed. To ward off the glare that was bound to be thrown her way by her mom, April pressed the answer button without checking the caller ID, quickly shoving the phone to her ear, her cheeks flaming red.

“Hello?”

“April?”

The voice made her heart stop.
Van.
His voice was all croaky and tired-sounding, like he’d been awake since the moment he left her, and without a second thought April abandoned her alcohol shopping expedition.

“Give me two seconds,” she said, as she hastily navigated her way through the store toward the exit.

“I don’t have a lot of time,” Van told her, and for a second there it sounded like he was whispering. Panic seeped in, and she almost ran outside.

“Where the hell are you?” she demanded, unable to hold back. It was hard not to be angry at him for leaving her in the lurch, but the more dominant emotion at the moment was fear. “Why didn’t you come home? Haven’t you seen my texts? I’ve been calling—“

“The police have all my stuff,” he said gruffly, and April fell back against the wall of the shop, her hair rustling in the breeze, as cars pulled in and out of the quickly busying parking lot.

“W-What?”

“It was a set-up,” he explained. It took everything in her not to drop to the floor, her knees suddenly weak. “Someone hid drugs in the bag that had the documents. I should have checked it more thoroughly… I just opened it and saw the papers, so… I left. We got pulled over for some bullshit reason before we made it to the drop-off point, and they searched our bags. It was… a lot, April. Someone really wanted us to get taken in.”

Us
? More like
you
. She took a few calming breaths. He’d been gone two days. Two days in a jail somewhere. Sure, he was tough, but she couldn’t imagine the kind of shit that put someone’s mental state through.

“Are you okay?” she asked, trying very hard to keep her voice even. This was no time to panic; Van needed her to be strong. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” he assured her. “No, just been sleeping on the floor for the last forty-eight hours, that’s all. They’re going to try to pin this on me, April.”

“Have you called your dad?” James sprung to mind almost instantly. He was the one who set all of this up; maybe he was actually orchestrating a set-up. “Maybe he… knew that—“

“My dad wouldn’t do this,” he said flatly—though it almost sounded like he didn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth either. “It must have been one of the guys in my crew.”

She nibbled her lower lip, her mind racing a thousand miles a minute. “Where are you, Van?”

“County jail in Bloomsburg,” he told her. “I’ll have to go to a hearing about what my bail will be, but I need you to make sure my dad pays it. If I can’t get out and find a lawyer, I’m probably going to get put away for this.”

“They can’t—“

“They’d love to lock up the Palmer kid,” he grumbled, and she suddenly felt like vomiting all over the pavement. “They’ve been trying to tie things to my dad for years… so I guess I’m the next best option.”

“Is that why you didn’t call him?” She assumed he was using his one phone call to contact her, which was touching. If she was in any sort of trouble, Van would be the first person she would try to reach to help her—and he would follow-through in a heartbeat. She needed to be the same strength for him now.

“What? No… April.” She swore she heard him groan, and she could almost picture him running his hands through his thick dark hair. A gaggle of clearly underage kids hurried by her and into the liquor store, but she figured they’d be kicked out in about ten seconds flat; one of them looked about twelve. Van sighed. “April, I called you because I love…”

He trailed off, and her heart hammered in her chest. Was he about to tell her that he loved her? Over the phone? From
jail
?

“I trust you,” he told her after clearing his throat noisily. “I trust that you’ll help me, because…”

“Van,” she whispered, cutting him off, “I know.”

He cursed under his breath, and April pressed herself back against the wall as those same underage kids were escorted away from the store by a security guard.

“I have to go, sweetheart,” he said, and it sounded like it pained him to admit it. “Please try to get out here as soon as you can.”

“I’m on it right now,” she insisted, but before she could say anything else, the line went dead. Pulling the phone away from her ear with trembling hands, she finally let her knees give out and she sunk to the sidewalk. Her back against the outside of the liquor store, she placed her head in her hands and took several deep breaths, trying—and failing—to calm herself down. Someone had to have set Van up for this. Not once did it cross her mind that he knew he was transporting drugs. When he’d told her he didn’t do that kind of stuff, she believed him, because she trusted him, too.

Staggering to her feet, April hurried back in the store and tried to find her mom, but it was like she was walking through molasses. Her feet refused to lift off the ground. Her mind was trapped in a foggy haze. When she eventually did manage to find her mom, due in part to sheer luck and nothing more, her mom almost dropped the wine bottle in her hands.

“April,” she said, rushing forward and cupping her face. “What’s wrong, honey? You look like you’re about to faint? Do you need air?”

Shaking her head weekly, she pulled away from her mom and held up her phone. “Van just called. He’s been arrested.”

“
What
?” her mom hissed, her eyes widening, nostrils flaring. “Does James know?! When did this happen?!”

April relayed everything she could remember from the brief conversation back to her mom, and when her mom expressed how surprised she was that Van had called her first, April tried hard not to scowl.

“That doesn’t really matter, does it?” she snapped, irritated that they were wasting time not acting. “We need to go get him. Pay his bail. Whatever he needs.”

“No, no, we can’t rush in there… guns blazing,” her mom cautioned, taking April’s hand and pulling her over to the cart. “Let’s pay for these, then we’ll go talk to James. He’ll know what to do.”

She stared blankly at her mom, but followed her without argument to the cash register. Ever since the fire, her mom had become suspiciously reliant on James for any big, life-altering problems and decisions. Sure, April understood that her mom would want to discuss things with her new husband, as they’d be making these kinds of decisions in the future together—if April couldn’t put a stop to the wedding—but this was just too much. There was nothing to discuss, nothing to think over.