Page 21 of Ruckus

“There ain’t a fucking us, Freya, never has been. Never will be. You're my best friend's annoying little sister, let's keep it thatway.” He runs his tattooed hand across his thigh before pulling back out and continuing our journey. I see the tension in his muscles, I feel it in the atmosphere, and I stay silent, pretending that the words he just said didn’t hurt worse than one of Drew’s punches.

“I’m sorry.” I manage to force the words out as we get closer to the club, the nerves are getting worse. I’m not ready for this.

“You got nothin’ to be sorry for.” Ruckus looks pained himself, and he must notice that I’m struggling to breathe because he pulls over again just before we reach the compound gates.

“I promise you have nothing to worry about,” he assures me. “Everyone here is gonna welcome you. Wrath’s gonna be happy to have you home.”

I don’t deserve to be welcomed, if people here knew the truth, they would agree that I got exactly what I deserve after I left here.

“Home… Ruckus, I get that I needed to get away from Drew and that show but that doesn’t mean… This place isn’t my home anymore.” I see the faded yellow, three-story motel on the other side of the wall and guilt sinks deep into my stomach.

“Well it’s home for now. I just need you to be careful. Some things have been happening lately and you need to be on your guard.” I can tell this is not a conversation he wants to be having with me.

“What kind of things?” Curiosity is easing up my nerves a little.

“There was a body found on the beach not long ago, then another behind one of our bars on the strip. Then a girl that had been staying with us… I found her in the pool pit. She was the latest victim.”

“You have a serial killer?” I stare at him in shock.

“It looks that way.” He keeps his arm hung over the top of the wheel, looking up through the windshield at the motel before he turns to face me.

“Protect yourself.” Opening the console, he takes out a knife. “Keep this with you, and if you're staying at the motel always keep your door locked. Don’t trust anyone.”

“Anyone?” I take the knife from his palm, pull it from the leather sheath, and test the point of the blade with my fingertip… it’s sharp and I wonder how many people it might have killed before it made it into my hand. That thought makes me shudder.

“I haven’t ruled out the killer being one of us yet.” He drops his eyes away from mine and turns back in his seat, pressing his head back against the headrest and sliding his hands over his face.

“You look tired,” I tell him, rolling my head and looking him up and down.

“I got a lot on my mind.” He sighs, letting me see just a touch of weakness. “Bringing you back here with this killer around isn’t the best idea, but it’s all I got.”

“Thank you.” I lean over the console and press a kiss against his cheek and when I slowly pull away, he looks surprised.

“For what? Taking you out of one dangerous situation and bringing you into another?” He laughs bitterly.

“For caring enough to come back.” I smile, waiting for him to deny it as I slide my new weapon into its sheath and tuck it into the back of my jeans.

He says nothing, just drives on, nodding at the guy who is standing on the gate as he drives through and parks up next to all the bikes.

“And don’t worry, Ruckus, our little secret’s safe with me.” I wink, making one more attempt to be the old, sassy me, hoping it’ll stop the nerves from twisting in my stomach.

As I expected, the whole club goes silent when me and Freya step through the door. Wrath’s chair scrapes against the wooden floor as he stands up and rushes toward his sister, and I see how sad she is when his smile drops as he looks at her in horror.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” He grips the top of her arms and looks ready to kill.

“Would you believe me if I said I walked into a door?” Freya smiles nervously and, after she sees the look I’m giving her, decides to take my advice. “It was Drew,” she admits, looking embarrassed and ashamed. Wrath is already on his way to the door before I grab his bicep and haul him back.

“Relax, I dealt with it,” I tell him under my breath. “She needs you.”

“Is the fucker dead?” he asks me.

“No, but he’s?—”

“Then you didn’t fuckin’ deal with it.” He shoves me off him and goes for the door again.

“Aaron, please,” Freya calls after him. He pauses and when he slowly turns around, it ain’t anger I see, it’s hurt. “Ruckus almost killed him, it was me who made him stop,” she admits.

“When did this happen? Why didn’t you call me?” My best friend looks to me for an explanation.

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