Sicko(25)
“It’s a surprise.” Nellie’s eyes come to mine in the rearview mirror. A few seconds pass between us before she focuses back on the road. Weird.
“Hey, Jade, you know those varsity players we saw at the diner last week?” Sloane turns in her seat to look at me.
“Yeah?”
“Well, one of them has been asking about you.”
I freeze. “What? How do you know?” My heart skips a few beats. I’m embarrassed by how attracted I am to him.
Sloane flashes her phone in front of my face. “Because I’m fucking his best friend, also known as the linebacker.”
I roll my eyes. “You didn’t take long.”
“Would you expect anything less?” Sloane asks matter-of-factly.
“Actually, no.” My thoughts begin drifting. I’m envious of Sloane. She has the life that people think I have.
“Anyway,” she continues, handing me back the flask. “His name is Jensen Pracks. He’s the star quarterback. You should stalk him on Instagram. He’s already following you, and me, so let’s take a selfie and upload it.”
I take a long sip of the—whatever this is—and let her take the selfies, handing her back the flask as Nellie takes a turn onto an industrial street. I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, opening Instagram.
4 new followers. Three messages.
I ignore the messages and go to the followers. J_Pracks started following you. My thumb hovers over the follow back button.
“Fuck it.” I hit the button and then quickly shove my phone into my back pocket.
The car begins to slow outside trade buildings. Some mechanic garages, others I can’t make out at this time of night. Nellie pulls up to a high wired gate that takes up multiple spaces. It’s definitely the biggest area down this street. A young skinny guy and a bigger man stand guard at the front. I still can’t see that much, and I’m semi-distracted by Jensen. Jensen. Even his name is hot. Maybe I can play it out a bit. But broken girls like me don’t get perfection like Jensen. Boys like him are reserved for the girls like him.
The car is moving inside the gates now, where music is spilling out. To the right, there’s a long covered parking area where bikes are lined. So many bikes. Behind those, there’s a six-car shed. To the left, there’s another covered area where there’s a fighting octagon, tables and chairs, a boxing bag, and more people. In the middle, there’s a massive bonfire burning and behind that is a two-story house. It’s large, with a porch and a swing. It looks like something you would find in the suburbs, not down an industrial street. People spill out everywhere, with men in leather and women in—almost nothing.
I don’t register right away, and when I notice they’re wearing vests, I freeze. “Nellie!” I tap her shoulder. “Where are we?”
“You’ll see.” She winks at me.
They both climb out like it’s nothing and I hesitantly slip out behind Sloane. Shit. My red bottom heels click over the concrete ground as the heavy metal music wreaks havoc on my eardrums. Slipknot “Unsainted” is playing loud enough to raise hell. I take another step. Everything starts connecting in my head as I begin to make out the patch on one of the guy’s vests. It’s not until we’re directly at the start of the side garage when I freeze, blood draining from my face. My hand shoots out to Sloane.
“I can’t be here!”
Sloane turns, rolling her eyes. She hooks her arm in mine, tucking it closer to her. That’s when I finally see what’s going on inside. Drunk bikers and naked women sucking off random body parts. There’s a large metal emblem hanging above the bar that reads:
Wolf Pack MC.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
My heart beats in my chest, my breathing matching every thud. I spin around to run out of the garage and find a different way home when I crash into a hard chest. An inferno of flames lick around my skin as the smell of rich cologne, subtle soap, burned cigarette, and worn leather infiltrate into me. I rub my cheek. “Sorry.” Then my eyes travel up, finding the patch, reading the same club words and Vice President underneath it, and then they go farther up, landing on—
“Royce…”
“Duchess.” His eyes go over my shoulder, and I turn to see who he’s looking at. He winks at Nellie, who raises her glass in the air. Then my eyes find Sloane, who is studying me with fearful eyes. Before I can bring my attention back to Royce, his lips find my ear and his voice coaxes me like an open box of memories. “So glad Nellie got you here safely…” I snap out of it, bringing my attention up to him. He leans down, so we’re eye level. “Heard you’ve been making new friends.”
“What!” I whisper, searching his eyes. “I’ll leave. I didn’t mean to come here.”
“Nah.” He chuckles. The slight enmity in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed. “You just got here.” His eyes find Sloane. “Sloane looks good too.”
“I’m leaving.” I go to shove past him, but his arm flies out and before I can shove him away, he’s tossing me over his shoulder. I heave at his shoulder pressing against my belly.
“No, you’re not, Duchess.” Then he drops me down onto one of the sofas that are tucked near the billiard table. “Billie!” he calls out, his eyes never straying from mine. “Make sure Sloane has a place to sleep.”