Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Me: Super pissed you blew me off. He better be worth it.
The message bounces back, a failure notification lighting up the screen. What nineteen-year-old doesn’t charge their phone? Dammit, Harley.
“Oh, Princess, I didn’t think you’d be here tonight.” Jenna’s high-pitched voice pierces my eardrums. I startle, my eyes flashing from my phone to her. Although it’s my given name, she says Princess like it’s a pet name for a child she’s trying to force to like her.
Her blonde hair sits around her pretty face in a cropped bob. The pink lipstick she’s wearing has stained her front teeth. She lets out a small, uncomfortable laugh when I remain silent, her cleavage spilling farther from her two-sizes-too-small top. “I was just…” She stutters over her words, failing to come up with a suitable lie.
There are only two rooms down this hall: Tyler’s and Bear’s—and there’s no way she’s here for Bear. I don’t say anything. We both know I’m not an idiot. I know she messes with Tyler. But she doesn’t get power over me. I’m the ol’ lady. She’s the trash that gets thrown out once it’s been used.
My phone pings, carving through the awkward atmosphere.
Mom: Come home.
Harley must be back. Pocketing my phone, I nudge past Jenna and slip out one of the side doors to avoid any of the brothers seeing me and making me stay to do shots. I’ll text Tyler when I get home. If Jenna plans to keep him occupied, he may not even care that I’ve left.
Jogging to the front gate, I jump in my car and kick the engine over. The gate opens without the key remote and I smile. “Thanks, Bear,” I say into the silence before blasting my music and taking off.
Darkness has claimed the sky, the stars dotting the emptiness with little sparks of light. I know mom will bitch at me for driving at night, “Only people looking for trouble drive at night, lawbreakers and drunks.” She has a narrow view of the world. I love driving at night, the way the colors dim, obscuring everything into the background. The trees look as endless as the sky as they stretch up to meet it. It’s beautiful. Peaceful.
I make it across town in half the time it usually takes. Nervous energy bubbles through my veins as I turn onto our street. Our yellow one-story house comes into view, and my heart skips a beat when I notice the black car in our driveway and a cop car behind it.
Turning the volume down I swallow the stone caught in my throat and pull in next to the black car. I’ve had a lot of run-ins with the cops over the years but it’s usually at the club, about the club. Never here.
I rush to the door that’s already unlocked and walk through the house on autopilot. A cold hand slithers down my spine, setting every hair follicle on end. I follow the mumbled voices coming from the kitchen. They become silent when I round the doorframe, soaking me in fear.
The kitchen looks tiny, with so many people crammed inside. A man and woman stand in pantsuits while one officer is in uniform. Beside them is my mother, hunched over the small wooden kitchen table. I know if she lifts her head, the engravings of Harley and my initials will be visible. Mom whooped our asses for doing that. She had bought the table at a flea market years ago. It had three chairs included that were all a different color—one for each of us. The paint has chipped away from most of them now, leaving worn wood underneath.
“Mom?” I choke out. Her head lifts from the table, her eyes are red-rimmed. Tears stream down her cheeks. “What is it?” I ask, my voice cautious. When she doesn’t answer, lead fills my shoes. “Mom…” I edge. The tension in the room pushes in on me, crushing the air from my lungs.
“Mommy?” The words fall out in a desperate plea.
I know, I feel it.
“Princess, it’s bad, baby.”
“Who?” The words clog my throat. Pebbles fill my stomach. I know. I know before she says it.
Please don’t say it.
Times slows as her lips form around the words.
The cold kitchen floor rushes up and collides with my bones as I drop to my knees, shaking my head. Her voice echoing through the room, through me.
“It’s Harley.”
Don’t say it.
“Harley is dead.”
HARLEY IS DEAD.
CHAPTER 2
OUR FIREFLY
Pain. It spreads through every part of my body. It hurts to breathe.
“How?” I ask, looking up at one of the officers. His deep frown lines make his face look animated as he speaks.
“I’m detective Reed and this is detective Hope.” They both pull out a flip wallet and flash me their badges. “I’m sorry to inform you that it appears to be a Homicide, ma’am.”