Page 73 of Sugar and Skulls

Her smile fades instantly making me regret my words and my gruffness.

“I know,” she says sadly before straightening in her chair, a look of confidence chasing the melancholy away. “I’m going to tell you everything.”

I toss my napkin on the table. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

She slides back in her chair, her eyes bouncing around the room.

“Dirk,” Raffe warns, softly.

“No. I want to hear it. I want to hear her say it out loud so, that we can move forward.” I slide my eyes from her to him.

“It’s not that easy, Dirk,” Raffe says, playing good cop. At least that is what he’s supposed to be doing.

“All seven ranking officers and one prospect,” she says quietly.

Raffe and I both snap our attention to Jesse. Darkness whips across the floor like a deadly serpent. It wraps itself around my ankles infiltrating me with a hate I’ve never felt before. The entire fucking club will burn. Mark my fucking words.

With extreme restraint I keep my ass glued to the chair. My breath is coming in short pants as I reign myself in. Raffe is doing the same. How the fuck do we respond to that.

She takes a deep breath and raises her head like a mother fucking queen. My queen. “The worst was Crow.” Her gaze wanders between the two of us. “He wouldn’t shut up. He whispered in my ear the entire time. He wouldn’t let me block him out. He wanted more than in my body. He wanted in my mind.”

I place my hands on my knees willing them to stop shaking as I listen to her.

“I didn’t understand until yesterday. Last night as I was lying in bed is when I put it all together. The man my father killed was related to Crow wasn’t he?”

“Brothers,” I answer. This girl is too smart for her own good.

She nods. “I tried to block that weekend out of my mind but when you said his name yesterday…”

“It dislodged the blockage,” I finish for her. I had my suspicions it was Crow. Just like I’ve had my suspicions he was responsible for her grandparent’s deaths. I knew if I mentioned him and he had hurt her it would be impossible for her to hide a reaction. What I didn’t expect was this. How the fuck did she walk out of that trailer in one piece after being assaulted by eight men?

Jesse draws out an exhale trying to decompress. When she inhales her spine straightens. “So, how are we going to do it?” she asks, her head held high. The florescent light above us reflecting a crown of blue over her jet-black hair. A queen I tell you. She has a resilient spirit to match my own. Eat or be eaten. There is no other way.

“Gotta bring the whole club in. Something this big will require a vote,” I tell her.

Her eyes trail to the windows. “I’m going to go listen to the trees.” She turns back to me seeking approval. I simply nod.

“Don’t go far,” I warn.

“I won’t,” she says as she walks out, pausing to pick up the backpack of paints Dan brought for her. She doesn’t give us or her uneaten breakfast a second glance.

When she walks out Raffe jumps to his feet. “Jesus Christ, Dirk. Could you have pushed her any harder,” he growls.

“We aren’t fucking here for pancakes and sweet syrups.”

“No. We’re here for her.” He points to the door.

I stand up, pressing my knuckles into the table. “And, you don’t think I’m here for her?”

“Dammit, Dirk. I know you are but…” He rips at his hair. “I’m sorry I just want to hurt someone, and you are the only motherfucker in the room.” Raffe falls into his chair throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“I just lanced the fucking wound, Raffe. You know how this works. It will get better from here.” I sit down in the chair beside him.

“Do you think I should go to her,” he asks.

“Finish your breakfast, give her a little time. Then yes, go to her. I’m going to ride into town.”

“Why don’t you just call him? She’s going to hear the bike.”

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