Page 7 of Flint
Tommy shakes his head. “Yeah, I wish we hadn’t done that. She’s just stressed. We’ll give her a few days to decompress and then ask again. That’s the right move, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, it’s worlds better than how we fucked it all up tonight.”
He is quiet for a moment. “She’s my sister, Flint. I know what’s best for her.”
Tommy does know her best. He also loves her. Both of those things can cloud a man’s vision if he’s not careful.
I ask him, “You reckon she’s planning on staying here?”
Tommy shrugs. “I thought she’d stay in LA once she graduated. There’s so many opportunities there. But I guess I’ve been telling her how great Cedar Falls is.”
“They’re looking for someone to help Onyx in the office while his old lady is on maternity leave. You know he’d never try anything with her. If she’s looking for a job, then that might be something?”
“Hell the fuck no!” he shoots back firmly. “I don’t want her unattended on club property.”
“Where the hell is this coming from, Tommy? You have to know that family is safe at the Sons of Rage clubhouse. Rock and the club officers would beat the ever-loving shit outta anyone that got handsy with her against her wishes.”
“That last part is what I’m worried about. Most of the Ragers can charm a snake out of its skin.”
I tell him mildly, “Watch it, Prospect. You’re gonna have to stop calling the brothers Ragers. It’s a name our enemies tagged us with.”
“Yeah, I get that. I’ll try harder not to slip up.”
“We could use an extra set of hands around our shop. If we could train her up on how to handle customers, it would free you up to work on guns. I know that’s not your specialty, but you’d do well at the simple jobs. I could see a set up like that pushing us into a whole new tax bracket.”
He gives me a warm smile. “Now you’re talking, Flint. I’m all for keeping her close and paying her a fair wage.”
“I’ll leave all that to your good judgment,” I tell him.
We talk a little more about what Jules working at the gun shop would look like, and then I take off. The ride home is mostly on empty roads because there isn’t a lot of traffic out our way. The crisp, cool air feels good whipping through my clothing. Riding the open road is just what I need to get my mind off some fuckin’ mobsters getting their hands on Jules. That just wouldn’t fuckin’ do.
I pull into my driveway, cut the engine, and sit there for a minute. My house is nothing like the family-friendly farmhouse Tommy lives in. It used to be a small commercial building, some kind of fabrication space. I bought it cheap and spent the last year turning it into something I felt comfortable living in. It’s got a steel frame and glass panels where the old, loading bay doors used to be. I like the shop aesthetic. It suits me.
I get off my bike and go inside my house. The polished stone floors look great. They go with the rest of the interior. Everything looks clean and streamlined. I even have a workshop out back.
I’m mentally and physically exhausted by the time my head hits the pillow. I don’t know how long I slept before the nightmare starts.
It’s the same one I always have, one about being in the military during the Afghan war. It’s a strange mixture of all my worst fears and the bad shit we endured fighting there. We’re moving in a line along a wall, Tommy’s on my six, and I have a strong gut feeling that things are about to go sideways.
In the blink of an eye, the wall is gone and we’re out in the open. We’re getting fired at, but instead of bullets it’s all fire and brimstone. The next thing I know, Tommy is on the ground, and his arm is literally on fire, the flames crawling up his sleeve. I try to get to him, but my legs are like lead and I’m somehow wading through quicksand. Every step I take mires me deeper instead of allowing me to move forward.
I finally fight my way through it and reach him. When I grab his shoulder to roll him over, the face looking up at me is not Tommy’s. It’s Jules’ face. Her eyes are open wide, and her mouth is open in a scream of pain that never comes. I know all the way down to my bones that she’s asking for help. I want more than anything to save her, but I can’t move. The flames are growing and she’s slowly turning to dust right before my eyes and I can’t do a damn thing to stop it. One fiery hand comes up to cup the side of my face, searing the memory of this moment into my mind for all time.
I jolt awake from the sheer shock of it. I’m dripping sweat and the sheets are twisted around my body. Rolling out of bed, I walk to the side wall, open the glass sliding doors, and step out into the cool night air. I can finally breathe again and every lungful of air I take into my lungs helps me understand it was just a dream and nothing more. I stand there staring up at the full moon, wondering why I’m dreaming of Jules after all this time.
Chapter 3
Jules
Iwake up staring at the ceiling of my brother’s guest room. He’s been living in Cedar Falls for almost a year, but I’ve never visited him before, even though he gave me a key and said I was always welcome. I grab my phone from my nightstand and look through my text messages. Lauren is texting me to ask where I am. I shoot her a quick text telling her that I decided to spend some time with my brother and toss the phone back onto the nightstand.
Once we went to college, Lauren and I kind of drifted apart as best friends, though I guess calling up in the middle of the night saying that I saw her father beaten on the roadside made her reach out.
I let out a sigh. I’m still not sure about what happened that night and it’s weighing on my mind. I know what I saw, even if what I saw can’t possibly be true.
I sit up and push the blanket off my legs. My clothes from last night are on the floor beside the bed. I slept in my underwear and sports bra. Stretching my arms above my head, I can just make out the smell of coffee and bacon. Jumping into the shower, I parse through my situation again.
Aunt Diane lives in Clearwater. She would take me in without hesitation. Unfortunately, the men in that sedan were real, and the thing I didn’t come clean about is that I think they’re still after me. She’s sixty-one years old, lives alone, andshe deserves to keep walking on that beach without me dragging all my problems to her doorstep.
