One Hundred & Thirty-Six Scars (The Devil's Own, #1) (6 page)

“Can I help you?” the man said from his position. I eyed him up and down, resting my vision on his patch. Where pretty boy’s patch read
‘Prospect’
this one read
‘President.’

This was more like it.

“Yeah,” Hella began. “Looking for Abby. Not causing any trouble, I knew her when we were kids,” Hella stated, placing his hands against the iron fence, clutching his fingers through the triangles.

President’s eyes slant. “What you say your name was?” Eying Hella up and down, he reached into his pocket and fished out his phone.

“Hella. Or as she would have known—Braxton.”

Braxton?
The fuck. If the situation weren't completely serious, I would’ve laughed at him. Then I remembered, at least someone gave enough of a shit to actually give him a name.

“Yeah, got a couple big motherfuckers here. You know a Braxton?”

“Yeah? All right then.” He hung up his phone, twisting his fingers in the air when no-one moved he looked to the prospect. “Open the fucking gate, Trav, or what? You scared now. Hold your fucking tongue next time, boy.” The prospect snapped to action, pushing a red button on the gates, causing them to slide open. We both walked in, a few other men stepped down from the patio area, looking skeptical.

“I’m Zane, the president.” He pointed up to the patio, where two other men stood. “That’s Ade and Blake.” He smirked. “Don’t try anything, we have a special burial ground for sneaky little fuckers that worm their way in. I’m sure we could accommodate to your size, too.”

I nodded my head in understanding. I got it. After being in
The Army
all my life, anyone outside of that life seemed normal to me. I had a lot to learn when it came to civilization.

“Beast,” I mumbled, shaking his hand.

He nodded his head. “I see that.”

We made our way into the bar area, taking a seat at a table where Ade and Blake joined us. They ordered a couple beers from the bartender who looked like she’d just stepped the fuck off a magazine. Do all girls look like that? Don’t fucking like it, it’s fake. Anyone that needs to spend time in the morning to try and look that
perfect
I will never be interested in.

“So,” Zane started, placing his beer on the table after taking a drink. “Abby will be here when she finishes. She couldn’t get off early.”

“How’s she been?” Hella asked, rolling his cold drink around in his hand. I scanned the table, bringing my eyes to the biggest out of all of them—Ade. You’d think he could have stepped out of a magazine too, that is until you saw the empty depths of his eyes. I nodded my head at him, once he noticed my staring. His eyes faltered but he nodded back with a small smirk. That was one fucked up man recognizing another.

“Yeah, good,” Zane answered, gazing around the clubhouse. “She didn’t say much on the phone but said I was to trust you and anyone you were with under any circumstances. Our little Abster can be
very
demanding.”

Hella chuckled around the rim of his beer. “That much hasn’t changed then.”

“How do you know each other? We’ve known Abby since she was fourteen,” Ade asked from his seat, throwing his arms back onto the empty chair next to him. The gesture showed his confidence and lack of giving a fuck.
He could be a problem if anything went down.

“We were in the same home together for three years when we were kids. I came here once, to see if she was happy. She tried to beg me to stay,” Hella answered. I think about the time I had spent at
The Army
, all the schooling from the private nuns. My memory draws blanks on a lot of those memories, but I remember the learning aspect of it. I was grateful for it, and I guessed because Jada and I were the youngest there—her coming in at the age of four— we were Nun Nancy and Nun Lucy’s only students.

English and math were our primary subjects, but most of our learning was guided by what Kurr wanted us to learn, which was mainly killing. With Jada, it was killing in the art of seduction. She was good at it—is good at it. Too good because once they saw how easily she could reign in some of the larger upscale kills, there was no way they were letting her go. She’d bring them to their feet before ripping their throat out. Probably the hottest psychotic bitch you’d ever meet, but she has an entirely different side to her too. They needed her, and there was no way they would ever let her out of their sights. I promised myself that I would go back to her, and I will. I needed to make sure I had somewhere to bring her first, and there was no doubt that they would have put out a code black on both Hella and I.
We were not safe.
I knew that they wouldn’t hurt Jada, they needed her too much, but I had no doubt that every person I saw on the side of the road could possibly be working for them.

Bringing my attention back to the present, Hella was still rambling. The sound of heels clinked across the tiled flooring, which snapped my head up to attention. A young girl with long blonde hair, dark eyes, tanned skin and legs that go on forever halted in front of us with her hands resting on her hips. Her eyes narrowed on Blake.
Oh shit, trouble in paradise?
That was a shame, she was pretty fucking hot. Storming over to our table, Blake shifted in his seat in discomfort. This girl obviously had his balls by a leash.

“Blake! Where’s my fucking keys?” She yelled, cocking her head.

“Phoebe, sit the fuck down, we have company,” he answered casually, bringing his attention back to us.

Her shoulders squared, her demeanor changing. It was an interesting observation that showed maybe this girl knew the ins and outs of what happened here. I answered my own question when I reminded myself how she entered the room.

“Hello, sorry…” she started, looking between Hella and me. A smile appeared on her face, showing just how fucking cute she was. That was a simple observation. Anyone with vision would say she was appealing.

I narrowed my eyes on her before bringing them back to Blake. He followed Phoebe’s sight, looking between me and her before pushing his seat back and shaking his head. “Nope, no. Fuck off, Phoebe.” He looked at her, annoyance etched into his face.

“I didn’t do anything!” She raised her hands into the air in innocence and a round of chuckles sounded around the table.

“And don’t fucking do anything either,” Blake clarified. “Understood?”

She rolled her eyes, nodding her head. “Shut up, Blake. You’re my brother, not my conscience.” Brother, huh? Figures. But now that she had said that, I could see the resemblance between the two.

“Obviously fucking not,” Blake mumbled, stress lines creasing around the edges of his eyes.

“I’m Phoebe,” she said, her hand out, waiting for me to take it.

“Beast,” I answered. Her face paused.

“Is that your real name?” she asked, intrigue lighting up her eyes like a kid that wanted to know if Santa was fucking real.

Blake growled from his seat again. “Speedy, take the fucking car. Just get the fuck out of here, you’re giving me a headache.” He threw the keys to her and she caught them in her hands before winking to her brother. “Thanks, bro, I love you.”

“That love is going to kill me,” he mumbled, drinking from his bottle again and we all laughed.

It was a little after eight when Abby finally showed up at the clubhouse. As soon as she entered the room, my body stiffened. I’m not fond of cops, actually, I fucking hate them.

We were all having a few drinks outside around the bonfire when Phoebe walked out. Her eyes scanning through the crowd until they finally rested on me and I smirked.
Yeah, she’s cute.

“Where are you from?” Phoebe asked, taking a seat beside me in front of the bonfire.

My face drew blank and she noticed, pulling her legs under herself she laughed. “You know, I get it. You don’t want to talk, and you have all that Mr. Mysterious thing going on.”

“Nah, nothing like that. Just not much to tell,” I answered, swallowing a large skull of the bitter beer.

“Well,” she began, running her long fingers through her blonde hair, “I’ve been told I have great ears if you ever feel like you need to talk. I’ve been around these men all my life, I love them so much… that’s a given.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

Standing to her feet and brushing the ashes that came floating across from the flames of the bonfire off her pants, she asked in between looking at her brother. “Where are you guys staying tonight?” Abby piked in from beside Hella.

“They’ll be coming with me, Phoebe. You go and head home. You have a big week this week.” Her face fell before nodding. “Yeah, okay. Night all,” she chimed, looking back at me for a split second before heading up the steps and to the back door.

“Sorry about my sister,” Blake said, taking a seat on the piece of wood next to me.

I laughed, throwing my hoodie over my head. “She was nothing to apologize for.”

“Oh, trust me, she was,” he shook his head. Movement caught my eye from the side as an older woman came walking down the steps toward the bonfire. Her smile graced the place like a breath of fresh air.
Was she lost?

“Ma, what are you doing here?” Zane asked, walking to her and pulling her in for a hug.

“I came to see how you boys are. I’ve been so busy lately, I feel terrible for not popping in more often.” She rubbed his arms, the motherly gesture foreign to me.

Nudging his head to Hella and me, he took her hand in his. “Come, I want you to meet a couple people.”

Hella and I both looked up at her, her smile dropped when her eyes landed on me. I looked at Zane uneasily. He squeezed her hand. “Ma? This is Beast and Hella.” He pointed to us but her eyes hadn’t left mine. Uneasiness began to nestle deep inside me and my eyes drifted around our surroundings, weighing up our odds if things turned to shit.

“Nice to meet you,” I answered.

She shook her head, clutching the necklace that hung around her neck. “It can’t be…” she trailed off, taking her eyes off me, down to the dirt ridden ground.

“What does that mean?” I asked, looking to a now skeptical Zane.
Not good, not good at all.

“I’m sorry,” her smile reappeared on her face. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. It’s just you shocked me. You look so similar to someone I once knew.” She shook her head, placing her hand out to me. “I’m Annabelle, it’s nice to meet you boys,” she answered politely, wrapping her cardigan around her waist. She was a small woman. I wondered idly how someone so large like Zane came from someone so petite as her. Looking up to her son, she murmured, “I’m just going to make a quick call. I’ll be back in a second.”

“Ma? What the hell is going on?” he asked, his head following her retreat.

She shook her head, turning back around and smiling. “Nothing, I hope. I hope it’s nothing,” she reiterated before she walked back into the bar.

Zane breathed out, taking a seat beside me. “What the hell is going on with her? I don’t know. She’s not normally like that,” he gestured toward the bar with his beer bottle.

“Look, I hate to ask this, but I need to. Will she—”

He shook his head, cutting me off. “Nah, you don’t need to worry about that. Ma is as loyal as they come. She passes everything by me, no-one else.”

Clenching my jaw together and fixing my eyes onto the hot burning flames, I raised the rim of my bottle to my lips. “I hope so.”

The next day, we left Abby’s home to head back to the compound. When we pulled in, a whole line of bikes were parked outside with a black van. I looked to Hella uneasily before bringing my eyes to Abby. “What’s this?” She entered through the large iron gates, shaking her head. “I’m not sure, but you can trust us,” she replied with certainty.

“You sure about this?” I asked raising my eyebrows to Hella after I rounded his side of the car.

“No. But I know we can trust Abby.”

“I trust no-one,” I growled, beginning my walk to the bar.

Sliding the doors open, the chattering dropped silent and all senses became heightened. The sweet but salty smell of bacon mixed with cigarettes and beer came barraging into me like a churn of pre-disaster. There’s another motorcycle club here, not the Sinful Souls. I looked closer to one of the men sitting closest to me, where his patch reads “The Devil’s Own” and then underneath it reads “Nevada” narrowing my eyes, I fixed them on Zane. Pushing his chair back, he made his way toward me. Clutching my shoulder with his hand, he nudged his head to the bar. “Come, I need to have a chat with you.”

On the corner of my eye, I see Hella looking at the crowd suspiciously, his stance changing to one that can only be described as a Pit Bull waiting for a fight. That’s Hella, always there ready to throw it down.

Zane shook his head. “Calm down, bro. No drama here. Come, I need to talk to Beast and I know you’ll be following too.” He began walking toward the back of the bar, swinging the half door open that led out back. I looked around at everyone that was sitting in the bar area, my eyes locked on the oldest one there, he had to be around his mid to late fifties. His eyes were boring into mine, and his hand covered his mouth when a set of whispers rounded off around the place.

What the fuck is this shit about?

Hella nudged my shoulder with his. “Let’s go. See what the fuck this is about.”

Walking into the back of the bar, Zane gestured toward the two seats he had pulled out at the table.

“What’s this about?” I asked, keeping my eyes locked on his and taking a seat.

Rubbing his hands over his face, he dropped them again, exhaling a gush of air. “Look, fuck. I’m just going to go out and say this because… well, because Luce doesn’t wait on anyone and he has given me ten minutes before he’s coming in.” Taking a stand from his seat, he looked to Hella, who was staring at him like Zane was his next meal. “Sit down, Hella. He’s fine.” Slowly lowering his body to the wooden chair, he kept his eyes locked with Zane, his jaw set and eyes dead.

“Do you know who your parents are?” Zane began, unfazed by Hella’s glaring.

“No. Why?” I answered through clenched teeth.

“Well. My Ma, she—”

“I thought you said she wouldn’t say anything?” I whispered harshly, sliding the seat back and placing my fists on the table.

Rounding the table, he leaned against it, gripping the wood with his hands. “She didn’t. I mean, she said she couldn’t deny the resemblance when she saw you. It was why she was acting all fucked up.”

“You’re not making sense, Zane. Spit it out.”

Hella changed positions in his seat restlessly, his hand resting over his mouth.

“She saw you, and you looked so much like Luce. I don’t know how I didn’t see it either. Anyway, she called Bethy straight away. Bethy is one of the old fellas old ladies, she’s been with them for years. It turned out, Luce had a kid. Bethy had been hiding it for years.”

“So. That doesn’t mean I’m his kid,” I answered under a scoff.

“Actually, here’s the
fuck me
part. Bethy and your mom, they were best friends. When your mom told Bethy about her being pregnant, Bethy gave her a number to a Catholic adoption center.”

“Wasn’t raised in no Catholic adoption center, you got the wrong guy.” There had to be a reason why he was telling me all this shit, but they’ve got the wrong guy. I wasn’t raised in a nice Catholic adoption center.
I fucking wish.

He shook his head. “After your mom went missing, Bethy lost her mind. She tried to track her down. She found out that the Catholic center is actually some dodgy system that they used to recruit members…” his voice traveled out and my breathing began to quicken, a deep pulse started to beat into my ears.

“For…
The Army
,” he answered, eyes glued on me.

My windpipe expanded by the information, but I shook my head. “No, can’t be. It’s a coincidence. And how did she find that out? There’s no way she got to the bottom and found out about
The Army
. They’re non-existent,” I answered, shaking my head.

“It’ true—” His voice was cut out by the door creaking open from behind me. My shoulders stiffened and my face stilled. I kept my eyes locked on Zane, not ready to turn around and see the so-called resemblance. Hella cursed under his breath, shaking his head. “Beast, look up, man.” Standing off my chair, I turned around to face the newest body that had entered.

Shit.

It was like looking at the future me, but where his jaw was narrow, mine was square. My skin had an olive tint to it too. I’m guessing I got that from my mother.

“At first, I didn’t believe it,” he began, stepping closer. My body stiffened. Hella’s shoulders brushed up against mine, standing an inch in front of me. I took hold of his arm, pulling him backward.

“I still don’t. Could be a coincidence,” I answered, nodding my head at Hella to stand down.

“Son, those eyes right there…” he pointed two fingers at me, “…are not a coincidence.”

“Don’t
son
me,” I replied, taking a seat on the table.

His eyes wrinkled, distress lines pulling his skin taut.

“You’re a devil, that’s apparent in your eyes is what I was meaning.” Pulling out a cigar from his left pocket inside his cut, he clipped it before placing it in his mouth.

“You going to ask about your mother?” he asked, taking a seat next to me.

“Nope. Not right now.” Taking my position on the chair, I ran my hands over my face in frustration. Half of me wanted to believe that this was
shit talk
, but the other half knew that there was no way they would have that kind of information if it were lies. Then there’s the resemblance, I couldn’t deny that—as much as I wanted to.
Did I want to play happy families, though?
That was a fuck no, with no passing go.

He nodded his head. “That’s fine.”

The door swung open again, my head snapped up from being hooded between my arms. A woman walked in. Short brown hair and standing around five foot three, her eyes bored into mine. My eyebrows drew together

“Sorry, it’s just… you look like your mother, too.” Her eyes glassed over, her hand wrapping around her throat. “It’s all my fault.”

Luce stood from the table, walking toward her. “We’ll get to that back home. Leave.” He pointed to the door, his jaw clenched tight.

“Wait,” she said, bringing her sad, tired eyes up to mine. “Your mom is still alive. She’s out there somewhere…” she trailed off, her eyes skimming over me and toward Luce.