Jake’s Angel (King’s Of Fury MC #2)

Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

AVERY

The rumble of motorcycles approaching startles me awake. I wonder what time it is. It’s not very bright outside, so it must still be early.

My mouth feels like I swallowed a handful of cotton balls. My head is throbbing, and my stomach feels fluttery. I don’t know if I’m hungry or nauseous.

Trying to stretch my arms, I find myself wrapped in a cocoon made of a crocheted blanket in a room I’m not familiar with. It’s a simple, but inviting room. Not too big, nothing too fancy. Nothing like the rooms in Gramps’s mansion. Where the hell am I and how did I get in here?

Sitting up, I take inventory of my memories. I remember being brought to the house and getting to know Liz. She has been a great distraction, helping me forget the shit going on around me and focus on being here with her and Sadie. She catered to us. Feeding us, making drinks, telling stories about when Sadie and Jayde were little. It felt like I found everything I’ve been missing from my life.

Laughter. Shared memories. Love.

I appreciated the fact Liz didn’t ask about what happened with the guys in the clubhouse or how I got here. She didn’t try to force me to tell her anything. I like that about her. She doesn’t push too much. At least not with me. She seems to have no problem giving the men hell and loving every minute.

I’m certain she knows more about my past than I do, but I don’t know if she knows everything, and it didn’t seem right to ask. The men seem to keep their secrets close to the vest and their women kept in the dark. Sadie had mentioned club business before, about how it was for the men only. Their way of keeping the women safe.

Plausible deniability, perhaps?

Sadie may not agree with the men of the club on everything, or even like them most of the time, but she listens and abides by some of their same rules. I know because she keeps secrets of her own, and as long as she doesn’t tell me everything, I’ll never be put on the spot for her. I don’t like it, but I understand. After all, I have secrets of my own.

I remember discussing the menu and what needed to be done today for Sadie’s graduation celebration. Liz ran through some of the rules and things I should know about club parties. A do and don’t list I will be forever grateful for. Sadie and I have been to parties in Baron’s Edge, but nothing like the stuff Liz warned me could happen here has ever happened at a socialite party. None I’ve attended, anyway. Eleanor West would burn the entire city down if it had.

Topless was never one of the party attire requirements for the parties she hosted.

Liz practically demanded I be at the party, which I inevitably agreed to even after I had expressed several times, to no avail, that I didn’t feel I should be a part of it.

The thought of being in a crowd of people I don’t know; all of whom have thought I was dead all these years is terrifying. How will I even explain where I’ve been, or better yet, why they were told I was dead?

Nothing like bringing the dead back to life to liven up a party.

Truth is, I don’t want to take the attention off Sadie. This is her accomplishment. She deserves to be celebrated. My being there feels like it’ll be a distraction and unfair to Sadie, but she agrees with Liz. She wants me there. She’s not worried about their reaction and says it’s Gabe’s mess to clean up anyway.

I groan to myself at the thought of them having a funeral, my funeral, and everyone believing they were burying a mother and her child. I can’t imagine that experience. I didn’t know my mother, but I have felt the loss of not having her with me every day of my life. I feel sympathy and vexation for all of those who felt pain for their loss.

My thoughts take a nasty turn for the worse when the truth comes back to haunt me.

I wasn’t lost—I was given away. He even admitted it.

The emotional rollercoaster I’ve been on, the pain of rejection, it has had my stomach in knots. Or maybe it’s the drinks we had last night.

Liz, being the perfect hostess, was serving us a pitcher of something she called ‘Taming of the Shrew.’ A clubhouse favorite Sadie’s friend Jinx created for the women. I have no idea what was in it, other than copious amounts of alcohol, but it was so sweet, and so good, we couldn’t stop drinking it.

Should’ve been my first clue to stop.

It was another way to distract me from reality. I’ve been lied to. Abandoned. Left in that cold, empty, loveless house with the Ice Queen.

She was supposedly the best choice to be my guardian.

Someone missed the mark there.

“Mmm.” Sadie groans from beside me on the bed. “Too early. Headache.”

“I believe the term you’re looking for is hangover.”

“Shh.” She pulls her pillow over her head, blocking me out.

My backpack and duffle bag are sitting in a chair in the corner near the window. The denim curtains with a white valance made from white bandannas with a paisley print on them are blowing with the breeze. The denim comforter on the bed has the same white bandannas sewn around it in a border. It appears to be handmade.

I take a moment to soak in my surroundings.

There’s a black-and-white poster sized picture of Marilyn Monroe smiling and carefree up on the wall to the left of the bed. A black-and-white picture of Lucille Ball, with her tongue out, dancing around in a bucket and pressing grapes into wine, is located right beside it. It’s one of my favorite episodes.

A small dresser sits in the corner with a couple of framed pictures on top. Hesitantly, I roll out of bed, trying not to disturb Sadie. The carpet is soft on my bare feet, muffling the sound of my steps as I walk to the dresser and pick up the pictures one by one to get a better look.

One is of a baby, a little girl, sitting on the grass on a pink blanket wearing a denim overall dress and a white bonnet, her head thrown back in laughter. I run my finger back and forth over the glass, tears filling my eyes.

I grab my bag and make quick work of changing my clothes. I turn the doorknob, slowly opening the door, and make for the bathroom to handle my morning rituals.

After washing my face and doing my morning business, I open the door of the bathroom, intent on going back to the bedroom with Sadie and not coming out for as long as I can get away with.

Someone softly knocks before cracking open the bedroom door. Liz pokes her head in. Noticing the frame I’m holding in my hand, she comes over, grabbing the corner and says, “You were laughing at your father in this picture.”

“My, uh, Gramps. He has this same photo in a frame on his desk at his office.”

She smiles, her eyes staring fixedly at the photo as she rubs her finger over the glass. “It was your first birthday and your mother’s favorite picture from that day. We had a big party for you. The entire club and their families came, and spoiled you with presents, but this moment here was the one she wanted to remember the most.”

“Gramps was here?” She glances over at my question.

“There was a table off to the side there. You can’t see it in the picture. Gabriel was pretending to sneak a bite of your birthday cake, and you were smiling at his little game while Lisa took your picture. In this shot here, when he leaned in, Maggie pushed him into the cake. You squealed and giggled.” Her smile widens. “Lisa captured the moment perfectly.”

“Mack’s wife?” She nods. I remember meeting her a few times when she visited Mack and Sadie. She’s a nurse.

Liz places the photo back on the dresser, then turns her attention back to my face, lifting my chin with her finger. “Speaking of which, she’ll be here in a little while to check on you. You gave us quite a scare.”

At my confused expression, she continues to explain. “Passing out around this bunch constitutes a reason for a nurse visit.” She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I passed out?” I must’ve drunk more than I thought. “It was probably the drinks someone gave me.” I pointedly accuse.

“Maybe, but you might still be dehydrated, and your father and grandfather are nervous nellies when it comes to you.”

“Gramps is here ?”

“No, Bug. Caleb is the grandfather I was referring to.”

“Oh.”

“Wait. You said I passed out.” She nods. I gasp, cupping my hand over my mouth. I remember Jake’s voice in my ear last night whispering, “ I’ve got you, Angel. ” His arms were wrapped around me and he carried me into the room, laying me on the bed.

Liz’s head tilts to the side as she studies me, smirking. She doesn’t say whatever she’s thinking. Instead, she rubs her finger along the frame of the picture I’m holding.

“I don’t remember drinking much, but I guess the alcohol must’ve gotten to me. I’m fine. She doesn’t need to check on me.”

Liz waves me off. “You were here with me and needed to take the edge off. Had I known you were such a lightweight, I’d have slowed you down. I assumed, being friends with Sadie, you could hold your liquor.”

“Sadie drinks?” I saw her take a beer at the clubhouse, and I know she drinks when she goes to parties, but I’m not about to rat on her.

Liz laughs, wagging her finger in my face. “You’re loyal. That’s good. You’ll need to be for the things this life?—.”

Whatever she’s about to say is cut short by a loud ruckus and voices shouting from the front of the house. We both walk out into the hall, closing the door behind us, not wanting to wake Sadie. It’s probably better until I know what’s happening.

“She knows nothing about our world. We need to make her aware of the dangers, of the enemies who may be after her.” Mack says, frustrated.

“We will need to teach her the truth about this club. We aren’t the assholes trying to make money running illegal businesses or whatever other bullshit lies Maggie’s cunt of a mother spewed about us. Avery needs to see who we are for herself. She needs to learn she’s safe. We’re her family ,” Gabe growls back. He looks like he hasn’t slept much. His hair is disheveled, dark shadows mar the skin under his eyes.

Apparently, he needs more coffee. He’s grumpy this morning.

“Are you sure after everything, the best idea is to keep her in the dark about the Devil’s Order? We don’t know if they’re still coming for us or if Spider was working alone.”

What the hell are they talking about?

“Do you think keeping things from her is a good idea, Gabriel?” Caleb doesn’t seem happy with Gabe. “Mack has a valid point. She’ll be more apt to accept protection if she knows the truth.”

“She already knows Cusenza is looking for her. That’s enough for her to worry about for now. If we tell her too much, she’ll take off and we need her here where we can protect her.” I’m about to round the corner when Liz’s hand on my shoulder stops me. She puts a finger to her lips and holds tight to one of my biceps.

“Let me get this straight. You want to lie to her again to teach her she can trust us?” The sound of Jake’s voice as he comes to my defense settles something inside me, allowing my shoulders to relax. He sounds dumbfounded and annoyed by Gabe’s logic, and I find it somewhat reassuring to know someone has my back.

“Yes.” Gabe replies. “We need to ease her into the truth. Right now, we have two potential problems to deal with. The first is my little girl meeting and learning about her family. Hell, getting her to even accept I’m her father is proving to be difficult enough.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Gabe glares at Jake. “As she gets to know us, I’ll tell her about Maggie’s accident and the Devil’s Order myself. But …”

Liz pulls my arm, drawing me back into the bedroom.

The Devil’s Order? Murdered? I can’t do this.

Liz spins around, pulling me into a hug, and the dam breaks. I sob into her shoulder, soaking up every ounce of comfort she’s willing to give. The heavy weight I’ve been carrying on my shoulders and the internal war raging inside me are too much to bear.

Liz pulls back, smiling softly. She turns us to the dresser and picks up another photo.

It’s a picture of Gabe holding me up in the air, twirling me around. Liz tells me, “He used to love to spin you around. The man carried you everywhere. He hated for other people to pick you up.” She laughs. “Gabe was so paranoid, always chasing after you. Gabe was so reluctant to let you go for fear you’d fall and skin your knees.”

The thought of the large grizzly of a man being shaken and nervous lightens my mood.

“For a long time after you were born, whenever people would come to visit, he would hesitate to let them hold you. He was always so protective of you. Of both of you.”

“Of course, Maggie and Lisa never let him keep them from holding you, and he wouldn’t dare try to tell me no.” She raises her eyebrow at me and smirks.

“Is Gabe really afraid of you?”

“Of me? No. I’m married to his father, whose sole purpose in life is to make me happy. Or so he says.” She smiles mischievously. “I don’t always make it easy, but he comes through every time.” She winks.

I turn my head over my shoulder to ask, “Why?”

“Because according to Caleb, it’s easier to get rest at night if his ol’ lady is happy. It’s a lot harder when you have to sleep with one eye open.”

I don’t know how she does it, but somehow Liz has managed to lessen the rejection I’ve been clinging to. The feeling of being abandoned and unwanted doesn’t have as strong of a grip on my heart at the moment. It feels like I was once loved, cherished, even.

So why did Gabe send me away? And why didn’t Liz and Caleb fight to adopt me?

I want to ask her, but I don’t know if she would tell me the truth, or if she could.

Club business. What a crock of shit!

Picking up the last picture, I hand it to Liz. It’s a picture of Gabe and my mother. She’s in a short halter style white dress. Her hair was up in pin curls and there’s a white bandanna with a small lace piece attached at the back, and it barely touches her shoulders. Gabe is carrying her in his arms, wearing jeans and a T-shirt with his cut. The only difference in the outfit I saw him in yesterday and the one in the picture is the bow tie he’s wearing around his neck.

My mother is laughing, her head thrown back, her hand resting on his chest. He’s kissing her cheek, his hand gripping her wrist. It’s then I see the diamond ring she’s wearing on her left hand.

Liz must see my shock, because she puts the picture down on the dresser and places both hands on my cheeks, wiping my tears. I lift my face to see her blurry one.

“You didn’t know.” She’s not asking. I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to rein in my emotions.

“Gabe told me yesterday, but I didn’t believe him. My grandmother, Eleanor, she told me he was a one-night stand. All I’ve ever heard was how my mother was a whore who got herself knocked up and when my father found out about the pregnancy, he left. He didn’t want me.”

Eleanor West’s words have been like a broken record playing in my head for so long, and whenever they stop playing, someone comes around more than happy to restart the needle.

“After seeing those girls at the clubhouse yesterday, I assumed she was one of them,” I admit. “I figured Gabe must’ve accidentally gotten her pregnant and then bailed when he found out.”

“Christ on a cracker! No.” She chuckles heartily. “Gabriel would have killed any man who thought about touching Maggie. Your mother could handle her own, but if anyone ever treated her disrespectfully, or more specifically, like a whore … Let’s just say I’d be talking to both my husband and my son through a plate-glass window at the nearest prison.”

“What? Why both?”

Liz again ignores my question, pressing forward with her explanation.

“Everything your bitch of a grandmother told you about your mother was bullshit! He loved Maggie more than anything in this world. Maggie was Gabriel’s reason to breathe. When he lost her, and then you,” she sighs, her eyes rimmed red.

“He was so excited when he learned about the baby— you. ” Her thumb caresses my cheek. “He wanted you, sweet girl. Gabe wanted you more than anything. He drove poor Maggie crazy with his over-protectiveness. The man threatened the guys if they smoked within a hundred yards of her. Told them he’d cut off their balls.”

“Seems to be an ongoing threat around here.”

“The point is, he was a mess. The day you were born, he was so scared to hold you. You cried a lot in the beginning, and he couldn’t stand it .”

“Then why did he send me away? If he loved me so much and wanted a child so badly, why did he give me up so easily?”

“I can’t answer those questions, Bug. I didn’t understand at the time either, but I knew to trust my son and my husband. The decision wasn’t an easy one, but it was the right one at the time.”

Another round of shouting can be heard through the door, followed by the sound of stomping boots and broken glass.

Liz lets me go just as Sadie sits up, looking worse for wear.

“I need to go see what’s going on and convince my husband to make it stop or get it the fuck out of my house,” Liz shouts the last part loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. She opens the door and heads out. Sadie crashes back onto the bed, positioning her pillow back over her head, incoherently grumbling something.

She did drink a lot more than me.

Looking around the room, I start feeling uneasy. The need to run is like a live wire under my skin. I know I can’t go out where the men are, and they aren’t going to let me go anywhere without an escort.

They were just going to continue to lie to me. My mother was murdered, and they were just going to keep up their barrage of secrets and lies.

I don’t need this, and I certainly don’t need people who want to keep lying to me. I need to think. I need to get out of here and I need to think.

Pacing the floor, my thoughts reel again and my anger builds. Seeing the curtain move with the breeze out of the corner of my eye gives me an idea. If it’s open, the alarm should be deactivated, if there is one. I check the window, feeling around for a sensor just in case and, to my surprise, find nothing. For people who stress security and protection, they sure dropped the ball on this one.

I gently lift the window and push out the screen, laying it against the house nice and neat. I’ll only be a few minutes. Not long enough to panic everyone, but hopefully enough to clear my head.

Standing on the patio looking out, the house is surrounded by tall trees as far as I can see. I debate if I should attempt a walk in the woods, when my overactive imagination reminds me of several horror movies that all started with some stupid girl running into the woods alone.

Nope.

I look around some more and catch the sound of a creek. The porch wraps all the way around the house, and I follow the sound of rushing water on the other side of the house. There’s a swing facing out toward the water. I sit, pulling my knees to my chest and lay my head down, closing my eyes, focusing on the sound of the water and my breathing.

The gentle rustling of trees and grass. The faint sound of grasshoppers fluttering around. I take several deep breaths and allow the sounds of my surroundings to invade my mind, pushing all other thoughts away.

The storm inside me slows, settling enough to allow me to breathe . It’s exactly what I need.

Calm.

Quiet.

Leather-less peace.