Page 3 of Bound by Vengeance
“He won’t.” The confidence in her voice has me thinking she may be right. If she’s wrong, it could go really bad really fast.
“Are we still on to get that place together?” she asks, changing the subject as she stares down at her phone, no doubt on social media. The woman does statuses and tweets all day long. If I want to know something, checking her feed will tell me.
Emery’s phone rings before I can answer, and she holds up her index finger, indicating she wants me to wait. “Hello …?
Hello?” She hangs up. “Unknown caller. I’ve been getting a ton of sales calls lately. It’s starting to piss me off. Okay, you were saying?”
“Yep. That’s why the job, babe. Gotta get my funds back in order. Savings is good, but it won’t last forever.”
“Thank Christ. If I have to hear my parents going at it one more time, I’m going to lose my shit. Ever since my mother got the clean bill of health and the cancer is officially gone, they’re like rabbits on crack. I kid you not.” She complains, but deep down, I know she loves that her parents have that kind of relationship. She’s told me many times. I can’t blame her.
From my perspective, living with my folks the past few months, I feel her pain. It’s one of the many reasons I need out of mine. Being there gives me too much time to think. Think about my life and what needs to be done to get it back on track.
“Set up a showing, and we can sign. All my stuff is in storage. We have everything we need there. I have an extra bed, too, if you need it.”
When she shakes her head, I glare at her through the mirror. One thing you don’t do when a woman has lifter and a brush is move your head.
“Sorry.” She stills. “I’m good. I have that under control. You think they’re going to let us?”
I hold the foil and spread on the lightener with a brush, then fold the foil up into a packet, pushing it on her head. “We’re adults.”
Emery bursts out laughing, with me following right behind. “Right. The place has a very secure system, the guy on the phone said. We can have Buzz and Breaker check it out to make sure.”
“That’d be good.”
She calls my name, and I look at her in the mirror.
“Is it safe for you?”
Emotions well at the surface, threatening to come out, but I gather my strength and bury them deep, where they need to stay.
“Of course. At least, it is with my Glock.” On a wink, I return to her hair then set her under the dryer to process.
She’s right. My father is Cruz, President of the Ravage MC Motorcycle Club here in Sumner, Georgia. Many fear him, but never me. At least, not yet. He’s strict in what he expects, but I’ve learned he’s fair. He and I are very close. If you looked up daddy’s little girl in the dictionary, my picture would be there. It doesn’t mean he’s going to like me moving out on my own again.
I wash Emery’s hair, cut, and then blow dry it.
“We need a plan.”
You know that old saying, asking forgiveness is easier than asking for permission? Once it’s done, they can’t argue but so much. That’s what part of my plan is, anyway.
Her brow quirks in that way she does when we’re up to something and she’s all in, no matter what it is. That’s what I love about her. She’s always along for the ride.
She’s the kind of friend I could call and she would be ready to hide the body without a single question as to why or whom.
That’s more than a friend or a cousin; it’s a sister.
“Hear me out. My father will probably have issues with me having my own place. Even in The Brookshire. I say we keep it to ourselves and sign the lease. Then we can tell both our families before we move, and hopefully they won’t blow a gasket.”
The Brookshire is one of the nicer apartment complexes in Sumner. It has extra security upon entering and exiting the property. It’s not what Ravage could set up, but it’s better than nothing.
“We’re twenty-one and twenty-years-old,” she tells me, something I already know, and says nothing more.
“Yeah, I know how old I am, Emery. Doesn’t mean they’ll roll with it.” My father is super protective. I get that, but I need my own space. It’s imperative.
“Let’s do it,” she says, rising from the chair.
I snap off the cape as she runs her fingers through her hair, letting it fall down her back.
