One Hundred & Thirty-Six Scars (The Devil's Own, #1) (13 page)

I’m walking out of
New Home
when Blake begins rushing toward me as he walks out of the hospital.
New Home
is almost directly opposite the hospital on one of the main streets in Westbeach.

“Meadow, hey… something’s happened. I can’t get hold of Phoebe. I need you to try.”

“Yeah, okay. Everything okay?”

He shakes his head, eyes wide as he clutches the back of his head with his hands. “Abby is dead. Vicky is in labor… probably from stress… and it’s too early, so I had to rush her in. Please, just call, Phoebe,” he repeats, turning back around and rushing through the opening doors of the hospital.

I’m still staring at the doors when I remember what I need to do. Pulling out my phone from my handbag I begin dialing Phoebe’s number. God, Abby was a hard ass, but she had a good heart. I know Phoebe’s going to take this bad. I need to tread carefully. Phoebe’s strong but her number one fear is losing the people she loves dearly. That comes from losing her father at a young age, and then I guess, being raised around danger all her life. She has to be the most protected girl breathing.

“Hey, what’s up?” she answers.

“Phoebe? Are you home?”

“Yeah, why? We’re just at
The Circuit
.” Her voice sounds wary. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Abby, something’s happened. I’m sorry, Phoebe. I’m so sorry.”

The air leaves my body with my blood turning to ice.

“Spit it out, Meadow.”

“Oh God,” I whisper.

“Meadow…” she warns.

“She’s dead, Phoebe. God, I’m so sorry…” My voice cracks on the end before the line goes dead.

Pushing my phone back into my bag, I exhale out a breath of air.

I hated that.

God, I hated being the one to break that to her.

It’s been a week since I made
that
call. They had a funeral for her that I decided to stay out of. I wanted to be there for Phoebe, but I didn’t know Abby very well and it was more of a closed funeral anyway. I have tried to be there as much as possible for Phoebe, but for the most part, she has clammed up. Melissa and I have made it our mission to get her going again. That brings us to now, where we are currently sitting at a picnic table at the compound of Sinful Souls MC. Phoebe is sitting beside Melissa with a smile on her face. I’m glad for however that smile got there, but I have a feeling it has something to do with a persistent rock star.

“Hey, stranger,” Melissa starts, plopping down beside Nette—Phoebe’s friend she met on her tour around the world with the rich and famous. I like Nettie, a lot. She’s down to earth and has a fire in her. Also, she makes me laugh. I’ll always find time for people who can make me laugh.

“Wanna dance? I’ll let you do the running man?” Melissa continues, wiggling her eyebrows.

Phoebe chuckles. “Nope, I’m good.”

I hand her a bottle of beer. “Come on, Phoebe. Let’s drink a little.”

Phoebe opens her mouth, but snaps it shut when a roar of bikes begins to shake the atmosphere. The table shaking underneath me has my breath hitching. I’m used to it now, being surrounded by Phoebe’s family, but that sound still pulls at something deep inside. I’m not sure what, but something. That feeling where you’re in-between danger and excitement? I think that’s what it is.

She glances over her shoulder and whispers, “Beast is here.”

“Beast?” Melissa asks with a mischievous smirk. “I like the sound of that.”

Phoebe lets out an exasperated breath. “Melissa, no. Put your lady bits away. He’s special.”

That perked Melissa’s attention. I shake my head, taking another sip of my drink.

“Special, huh? Special as in huge dick special, or special as in chode little dick special?” A loud sound of laughter echoes around our table, me joining in with them.
Melissa, she’s something else.

“Uh, nope, I’m not even going to justify that with an answer, but no. Not a chode. Not that I know, but he is… complicated,” Phoebe rushes out, not wanting to go further on the matter.

A crowd has formed around the new bikers that have pulled up when Phoebe places her head into her hands. “I need to pull it together. I have the circuit and Ryder. Who, by the way, has been amazing.”

I nod my head, taking her hand in mine. “You’ll get through it, Phoebe. For someone who’s biggest fear is to lose those closest to her, you’ve made great progress.”

She smiles an appreciative smile at me, so I return one back to her. On the corner of my eye, I can see the crowd has formed around our table. When I bring my eyes up to the large shadow standing at the head of our table, I’m met with the same empty dark eyes I remember from all those years ago.

Holy fuck.

My heart races harder, pulse thickening, with my body flushing out. I think I’m having a panic attack, but before I can answer, my lids close and my head flops onto the table in a crack.

Way to go, Meadow. Just faint in front of everyone. Now he probably thinks I’m no different to who I was all those years ago, but he would be wrong. The gripping on my upper arm pushes me out of my daze, and when I snap my eyes open again, I’m remembered why it all happened in the first place by the burning gaze of the black depths beaming into me.

Squirming, I push my chair out before Melissa and Nettie begin to escort me inside the bar. Pushing open the door, I shuffle out of their arms, placing my hand on my forehead. “It’s okay, I’m all right. Shit.
Shit
,” I whisper out. I’m still in shock, the buzzing coming through my ears confirming that.

“Are you okay? What was that about?” Melissa asks, pulling out a stool for me at the bar.

“That was a huge throwback right there in my face,” I answer, rubbing my temples with my fingers.

“
Big
he is. My God, he’s beautiful and large… I wonder if he’s that big every—”

“Melissa!” I snort, reaching for a bottle of vodka from behind the bar. The sound of the front bar door slamming shut shocks me back to my seat, with the vodka tucked away comfortable in my hands. Swallowing, I look to Melissa, nodding my head. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

“Are you sure?” Nettie asks.

I nod my head with a small smile. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, it’s just—”

“Get the fuck out.
Now
,” Beast growls from his position. That voice is still the same, seeping into my skin and wrapping me up in some sort of psychological blanket of comfort.
What is with that?
I barely know him.

Melissa narrows her eyes a little. I take a stand from my seat, rubbing her arm. “It’s okay, I’ll be fine. I know him, he won’t hurt me.”

Melissa and Nettie both nod their head, before they make their way to the doors. I don’t realize they’re out until I hear the door close again. I still haven’t looked up to him. I don’t think I’m ready to look at him again.

I need a drink.

Taking a seat back onto the stool, I twist the cap off the bottle of Grey Goose Vodka. Skipping the fact that this is some fancy vodka for a clubhouse, before wrapping my lips over the rim and letting the warm liquid burn the back of my throat, settling into a pool of fire in the pit of my stomach.

“Are you going to say anything?” I ask, after swallowing my bundle of nerves.

He clears his throat, the stool next to me pulling away as he takes a seat on it.

“Fuck,” he whispers, taking a bottle of scotch out from under the bar.

I laugh, bringing the drink up to my lips again. “I thought I’d never see you again. Although, I sort of wanted to look for you, to say thank you.” I bring my eyes to his finally and find him boring holes into me. His stare is dark, intense, and makes me squirm in discomfort. He looks the same, only older, more mature. He’s bigger and taller than he was when I last saw him too. His features are still the same, olive skin, dark eyes, dark hair, strong jaw, plump lips and you wouldn’t know, but when he smiles it could light up a room.

When
he smiles, being the key word there.

Pulling my eyes away from his dark pull, I run them down his neck that’s slightly in view from the hood of his hoodie. And there it is, the deep, angry scar that runs from under his left ear, slicing down his neck and coming across his shoulder blade before sitting on his chest. I do wonder what other secrets he has hidden under that black hoodie, but I know that they’re not my secrets to ask about.

His tongue runs across his lower lip before he brings the brown liquid bottle to his lips and takes another drink. “Why didn’t you?”

That comment throws me off. My eyes drift to the door before coming back to his. “Why didn’t I, what?”

“Try to find me?” Swinging his arms over the back of the stool, I’m sitting on and the other one beside him.

“I don’t know. I guess… hang on…” turning on my stool to face him, “…why didn’t you look for me?”

He laughs, placing the bottle back on the bar. “I’m not the one who said I thought about looking for you… no offense. Though, the thought did cross my mind here and there.” He rubs his finger over his upper lip, bringing his eyes back to mine.

Exhaling out, I lean back into my chair. “Well, that’s done anyway. I did stay at your place, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“After… you told me to stay at your place and to not move. So I did. I waited for you for two weeks, searched your entire flat to find clues. I wanted to thank you.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows another mouthful. “Thank me for what?”

“For killing my father, before I killed myself.”

He shakes his head, turning his attention back to me. “What’s your name? I never did catch it.”

I smile. “Meadow. And your name is… Beast?”

He laughs. “Yeah, that’s the only name I’ve ever known.”

Tilting my head, staring into his eyes and trying hard to ignore the sudden weight of my chest, I ask, “What does that mean?”

Pushing his seat back, he shakes his head. “Nothing. Do you live in Westbeach? What are you doing here?” His face changes, eyes hardening slightly. “Are you with one of them?” He nudges his head at the door.

“What? Am I an Old Lady?” I scoff, shaking my head. “Definitely not. Don’t get me wrong, I love some of the guys, they’re like family to me now, but no…
definitely
not.”

Bringing my eyes up to his standing form, I notice a small smile on his lips.

“What? Is there something wrong with dating a guy in a motorcycle club?” he asks in a mock tone with raised eyebrows.

Dragging my eyes away from his, I run them down the leather vest that sits over his hoodie. Shaking my head again, I smile. “President, huh? I guess I should be surprised. But I’m not.” Standing from my stool, I shake my head, boring my eyes into his. “And to answer your question, no… the motorcycle club part doesn’t bother me. The dating part… does,” I answer, picking up the bottle from the bar, suddenly feeling like I need more of the numbness vodka is bringing me. Seeing Beast tonight has brought to the surface old feelings. Not toward my dad, but just
feelings
.
Memories.
The last time I saw him, he’d killed my dad. I want to celebrate seeing him, but then beat myself up about celebrating something that’s so tragic. As much as I hated Donald with all the hate I have inside of me, it was still a life that had been taken.

I begin walking to the door, ready to talk with the girls when his voice stops me.

“Wait… what does that mean? Dating? You haven’t…”

I smirk over my shoulder. “A little personal? Don’t you think?” Before pushing through the bar doors and walking back down the wooden steps that set off the porch. I spot the girls sitting at the picnic table, the crowd is larger, louder, and drunker. Usually, this sort of environment wouldn’t sit nicely with me. But all those earlier drinks of vodka have obviously settled nicely inside me, morphing me into an easier version of myself.

“Hey, you okay?” Phoebe asks from under Ryder’s arm.

I nod my head. “Yeah, long
looong
story.” I chuckle, taking a seat beside her.

She opens her mouth about to say something until her eyes divert to the door behind me. A smile pulls on her lips and I know she’s got something ticking in her brain. “We need to talk about this soon,” she answers, eyebrows raised.

“Probably. But right now… right now, I need the comfort from vodka.”

“Vodka?” Melissa asks, shocked. This is no surprise. I’m not a heavy drinker. When I drink it’s a couple of glasses of wine, not
‘walk outside a bar with an entire bottle of vodka, drunk.’

Nodding my head, I answer, “Yeah. Just for tonight.”

Phoebe’s eyes go behind me again, and I fight the urge to follow what she’s staring at. She smirks again, resting her eyes on me. “Hmmm. Interesting.”

I point to her bottle. “How many have you had?” Phoebe smiling after finding out about Abby’s death is something new.

She laughs. “Enough to do the running man.”

“Please don’t,” Mellissa groans from her spot. “What if the paparazzi snap you doing it? Give them something else to pick on you for!” Melissa continues.

Phoebe laughs. “Oh good. Maybe they’ll tell something truthful for once.”

Since Phoebe and Ryder have been together, the paparazzi haven’t been all that nice to her. Being from a motorcycle club and all that.

I take a look down at my bottle. Fixing my vision, I laugh. “Holy shit! I’ve drunk half a bottle of vodka!”

Melissa and Nettie both laugh and Phoebe pats my hand. “Let loose girl, you’re safe here. Get it out tonight. But you will always be safe here. You could get batshit drunk and none of the SS men would touch you. Although…” her eyes drift behind me again, “…I can’t speak for a Devil.” She gives me a wink before raising her bottle to her mouth.

A laugh erupts from my mouth before I can stop it. “I’m sorry. I think I’m drunk, and I don’t know why I just laughed.
Shit.
”