One Hundred & Thirty-Six Scars (The Devil's Own, #1) (23 page)

“Jesus,” I whisper, looking back to Jada. “I’m sorry. Were you there as long as Beast?”

She nods her head. “Yeah, I was. I mean, I went in when I was three, so Beast was eight already. Both my parents were murdered in their bed with me lying in between them. My mother was the Princess of the Yakuza, who ran away from the family business to live a life in America with her American husband—my father. They ordered to kill all of us, but for some reason,
The Army
took me in instead. To this day, I still don’t know if my mom’s family know.” My brain is overloading with information that I’m trying to swallow.
She’s half Japanese?
She barely looks it. You can see that she has some sort of exotic look about her, but I couldn’t put my finger on it until she mentioned it.

“Fucking hell,” Melissa groans beside me. “Sorry, I mean no disrespect, but all of you are kind of messed up in your own sort of ways.”

My back snaps straight. “Melissa!” I scowl at her.

She looks between Jada and me innocently. “Oh, what? I didn’t mean it was a bad thing. It obviously made you who you are today. I just mean…” she sits forward placing her drink on the bar, and I begin to itch nervously waiting for what verbal diarrhea might come squirting out of her mouth next, “…you all have something in common. Even with Meadow.”

“Melissa…” I warn, lowering my tone.

Jada peeks up at me. “It’s okay, you don’t have to fill me in on anything. I told you about me because… well, I don’t know. I didn’t exactly mean to fill you in with my life story, but you seem like a person someone can confide in. I don’t expect to swap stories or anything.”

I smile at her politely. “Thank you.”

“So!” Jada pipes in, standing to her feet and downing the rest of her water. “I better head off. I have to pick my son up from school. But I might see you guys later?”

“You have a son?” I ask, turning in my seat with a smile on my face. I adore kids.

She throws her jacket on with a smile. “I do. His name’s Garret and he’s a sweet kid,” she answers without skipping a beat.

“How old is he?” I ask, still interested.

“He’s six. You’ll meet him tonight maybe. We live on the north side.”

“You live on the property, too?” I ask, excitement ripping through me. I may have found a friend in Jada.

She nods her head, pulling her long hair out from behind her jacket. “Yeah, I’ve tried to reason with moving us out, but Hella and Beast have nothing of it. I don’t see an issue with it, this way I know my boy is safe. All the people who care about him, the same as me are in this club. Until everything with
The Army
and Yakuza are put to rest, we will stay here.”

I nod my head and smile, Melissa still sitting there quietly.

“Okay, hang on,” I say, reaching into my bag and pulling out a pen and paper. I scribble down my number before folding it up and handing it to her. “Give me a text when you get home or something. Maybe I could bring some wine over that Bethy has stocked up.”

She laughs, taking the paper into her hand. “I’d like that. Maybe I can call the old girl up, see if she can join us.”

“Old girl?” I question, confusion on my face.

“Yeah, that’s what we call Bethy. Okay, better go. See you later.” She quickly rushes out the doors after waving a quick goodbye to the rest of the boys who are sitting by the pool tables.

Swinging my attention back to Melissa, I smile. “She’s nice, huh!”

Melissa nods. “Yeah, she is. Sorry, I wasn’t up for talking. I’m feeling a little down.”

I take the glass off her and pull out my water bottle from my bag. “Drink H20 instead. Maybe you’ll feel better.” I smile at her when she accepts my offer. Right on cue, a sound of loud bikes rumble down the driveway, the deep sound shaking the barn. Pushing off the table, I walk toward the doors with Melissa following closely behind me. Leaning up against the door, I fold my arms in front of me, looking directly at Beast, who’s getting off his shiny black Harley with his skull bike mask on, white T-shirt under his MC vest and jeans that hang loosely with his combat boots. A smile pulls on the corner of my mouth as he walks directly to me, picking me up and swinging me around. Pushing his mask down, I kiss him hard, running my fingers through the back of his hair.

“Hey, big guy. How’d you go?”

Pulling my lip between his teeth, he sets me back down. “Good. We have all the help we will need. We’ll talk about it later. How’d Jada go?” I nod my head, and look over at Melissa, who’s frozen in her steps, eyes locked on something. When I follow her sight, I find myself looking directly at Hella and Jada, who look to be in deep conversation.

“Yeah, good. She was… we got on well if that’s what you’re asking?” I clarify. Obviously she means a lot to him, so that means I want to make an effort with her. And to be honest, I actually like her. Melissa walks back into the barn with angry steps and I bring my attention back to Hella, who has his eyes fixed on the back of Melissa’s head.

He words, “Fuck,” before Jada and he hug each other and then she waves to me one last time before getting into her GMC SUV and pulling out.

I bring my attention back to Beast, who’s already scanning my face nervously. “Ask me,” he states, looking deep into my eyes.

I laugh awkwardly. “Ask you what?” Running my eyes everywhere except to him.

“Ask me if Jada’s kid is his.”

“No,” I answer, wrapping my arms around myself. “I don’t want to know the answer to that because then I’ll have to tell Melissa.”

“Why?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Why?” I scoff, narrowing my eyes at him. “Beast, you’re the president of a motorcycle club, and you’re questioning my loyalty? I have none to Hella and a shit load to Melissa… that’s why.”

He nods his head, a smile pulling on his lips. “All right, baby.” He takes my hand into his. “It’s training time.”

Knew she would make a perfect Old Lady. After Meadow checked on Melissa, we made our way to the back barn where our octagon and gym sit. All of us work out here. When we’re not out on missions, some of us are usually in here. Pushing open the door, I point to the little room that sits on the other side. “Go, change.” I hand her one of the bags that I have and she laughs.

“Did you really stop somewhere and buy me clothes?”

I nod my head and smile. “Yeah. I made all the boys stop too. Had to call in and pick up some things from a friend to help out anyway, so it was nothing.” It wasn’t nothing. The boys all gave me shit for stopping at the local sports shop because I wanted to run in and grab some workout gear for my girl. They stopped laughing when I pointed out that they’re the ones sitting bitch waiting for me.

She peeks into the bag and rolls her eyes. “Really?”

I laugh. “I said I picked. Of course, I was going to pick that.”

She walks to the little room and closes the door behind her. I drop the bag and unzip it, pulling out the Hoyt Buffalo Bow and Easton X7 Eclipse arrows from the bag before zipping it back up and placing them on the table that sits at the head of the octagon. Meadow walks back out to the gym, shoving her clothes and shoes into the bag.

“I love the jacket. Thank you!” Her face beams.

“Yeah? Good,” I wink. I had to buy her, her own leather jacket too if she’s going to be riding with me from now on. My skin heats and a wide grin comes on display across my lips. Licking my lips, I scan her up and down, letting out a wolf whistle. “Damn, baby.” I walk up to her, pulling her in for a kiss and she waves me away.

“Yeah, yeah.” She laughs, pulling the tight black spandex shorts down lower. I bring my eyes down to her thighs and a splash of guilt washes over me.

“Fuck!” I yell, fisting my hand into my hair. “I didn’t even think. I’m sorry, baby.”

She shrugs. “Don’t worry. They hide them… just. And all my scars are faded to a pearly white now, so you can’t really see them.” Her eyes scan the table that the bow and arrows sit on. Her face lights up like the fourth of July. “Can I touch it?”

I laugh, running my hands over the top of my head. “Yeah, for sure.”

She walks to the table and lightly runs the top of her fingertips over the black slate. “Hoyt Buffalo. Where’d you get this?” she asks, turning her head to me with shock in her tone.

“A friend. He knows shit about archery.”

She turns to the arrows and her face changes. “I love it. All of it. But… if I was to even use one for self-defense, I wouldn’t want to actually kill the person, Beast. No matter how bad the person is.”

I push my hands into my pockets. “I didn’t think of that. We can train with these. I’ll sort out some sort of alternative for after. Deal?”

She nods her head, the same smile coming onto her face. “Deal.”

“Good. I’ll get changed then we’ll warm up,” I say, taking my duffel bag in my hand.

“Warm up?” she asks, turning herself toward me.

“Yeah. What? Did you think I was only training you on a bow? I need you well-rounded.”

“Like The First Commander Nines?” she asks, tilting her head.

My body stiffens when I turn to her. “Yeah. Like that.”

“Okay,” she answers, wrapping her long hair into a ponytail, her abdominals tensing at the movement and I fight the urge to growl out loud.

“Be two secs,” I wink at her.

Walking back out, I pull on the drawstring knee sweat shorts I threw on and pick up the skipping ropes. She turns her body to me with a water bottle sticking out of her mouth. When she sees me, she coughs, wiping the water from her mouth.

I laugh. “You all right?”

She nods her head silently. “Yep, yep… um. Okay, let’s go.”

Handing her the skipping rope, we start jumping until we’ve worked up enough sweat, then move to push-ups, suicide jumps, and star jumps.

“Okay, I’m warm enough,” she moans, wiping the sweat from her forehead. My dick is already straining in my pants. I can’t believe this was my idea. This is fucking torture, that’s what this is.

“I’m not. Get on top of my back,” I say, getting into plank position.

“Are you kidding? I’m one hundred and thirty-five pounds, Beast. I’m not exactly a twig.”

“Baby, I bench four hundred pounds. You’re a twig. Get on.”

“Okay.” She climbs her body onto my back before I drop to do four sets of thirty.