Devil's Ruin Page 4

  “Yarrow got arrested!” Makoa yells at the top of his strong lungs.

  I turn the corner of the backyard to find Ginger’s face doing the weird thing where her smile twists into a shocked “O” before almost instantly turning into a snarl.

  “Details,” she demands from me.

  I give her a quick summary of what happened while Oz hugs Makoa. Ginger must use her supernatural witch power to summon her friends because Pepper opens the front door at nearly the exact moment Clove shows up at the back one.

  “Wait, so Yarrow slapped down some fool, and the cop arrested her?” Oz asks as if unaware of how stupid the local cops can be.

  “She’s at the station by now,” I say and step back. “We should go.”

  “What’s your plan?” Oz asks Ginger.

  “Bay can stay with the kids while the rest of us head to the sheriff’s office. Can you get your guys to meet us there? I want to make a show of our arrival.”

  “Sure, but if the cops are looking to make a show of their own, they won’t release her.”

  Ginger focuses her blue-eyed gaze on Cayenne who’s yanking on her boots after showing up barefoot.

  “Bring our ace to the station.”

  Cayenne slides into the jacket Clove hands her before hurrying back to her townhome.

  “Are we going?” I ask.

  “Let’s get the guys to meet us,” Oz says, texting on his phone.

  “The longer we wait, the longer she’s locked up.”

  Ginger frowns at me, and I frown right back at her. “How did you happen to be at the park when this went down?”

  “I’m stalking her. Is that a problem?”

  “Not that your stalking did much good,” Pepper mutters.

  “For fuck’s sake, I kept Makoa from getting rounded up by the cops too,” I grumble, despite kicking myself for not moving faster when the asshole started hounding Yarrow.

  “Yes, you did,” Ginger says before spinning around and stomping inside.

  For the next few minutes, the remaining crew huddles up with whatever mysterious plans they have. After ruffling Makoa’s hair, I ditch the rest of them and head to my Harley. I can’t sit around and worry about the big picture. I only care about Yarrow. Not the cops or the crew or even if I look like a damn psycho. I need to see her face and know she isn’t panicking behind bars.

  ➸ Yarrow ☆

  Back in the darkness where I lived for most of my life, I slept more than anything else. When my father came into the room, he brought food or one of his friends. I only woke to eat or fuck. Sometimes, I’d watch the always playing TV. The people in the box talked about nonsense, and I got bored easily.

  With no stimulation, I mostly just curled up in the closet and slept.

  Then Ginger showed up and pulled me from the darkness. My reaction wasn’t thankful. She wanted me to live in a loud, bright world that made sense to her but not to me. All I wanted to do was sleep, but the crew would keep me awake for hours upon hours until I adjusted to sleeping only at night. They trained me to be like them, but I still crave sleep whenever bored.

  Like now in the cell.

  From behind bars, I study the staff in the small office. The women have nothing to do. One of them is playing games on her computer. The other keeps glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one sneaks up and reads whatever she’s typing. From my spot, I catch the words “this throbbing meat sliced through my moist center” on the screen before she clicks on something else when a deputy walks by.

  Two of the deputies are bored too. One of them keeps asking if I want something. He isn’t being nice, though. He wants to build trust. I’ve had too many people play that game with me since I left the darkness of my room. Offering candy was Ginger’s way to get closer. This deputy offers me a donut, but I only repeat my Miranda warning until he goes away.

  The other deputy sweats too much, and I think he’s nervous about my sitting in their office. He stares at the sheriff’s door before glancing at me. He whispers to the arresting deputy, Slager, that the “bitches are on the move.” I don’t blame them for fearing the crew. My friends enjoy killing assholes, and they haven’t had any fun lately.

  “Rawlins runs red,” I say and roll over until my back faces the room.

  I don’t know if the scared deputy hears me and sweats more. Or if the secretary stops writing about cocks or the other one stops playing Candy Crush. I do know the fake nice cop asks what I said even though he was close enough to hear me.

  With my back still to them, I close my eyes and imagine I’m back in the room. Darkness closes in around me, and I relax. One of my father’s friends enters, and I climb on the bed. I don’t normally think or feel much during fucking. This time, I pretend the friend is Blackjack. Except the fantasy doesn’t work because I want to see him, and the TV doesn’t provide enough light.

  Adjusting on the jail’s cot, I keep my eyes closed and change the images in my mind until I see myself at my townhome with Blackjack. The bright sunlight reveals every small feature on his handsome face, and I can’t look away. Yes, this fantasy is much better, and I doze off to thoughts of Blackjack sweaty on top of me.

  ➸ Blackjack ★

  With me at their heels, Ginger and Oz finally fucking storm through the sheriff’s office’s front doors. I’ve spent the last forty-five minutes imagining Yarrow panicked and suffering. I fully expect to hear her wailing as soon as we enter. Instead, the office looks relaxed. Well, until the cops and staff notice their visitors.

  “Who was in charge of Yarrow Jones’ arrest?” Ginger asks in the loudest, non-yelling voice I’ve ever heard.

  Deputy Douchebagasaurus Rex slowly stands from his chair near the back of the office. Leisurely adjusting his belt, he makes a show of how fucking uninterested he is in walking to the front desk.

  “I was the arresting officer.”

  “Why was Yarrow arrested?” Ginger demands.

  “The charges will be decided by the prosecutors’ office.”

  “What I heard from witnesses is that a man attacked Yarrow and she defended herself from a potential sexual assault. Is that why you arrested her? Is self-defense illegal in Rawlins?”

  “The assault victim did not attack Miss Jones.”

  “And you know that how?” Ginger asks, leaning forward while Oz seems to get bigger when he crosses his arms.

  “I was there. I saw the entire exchange.”

  “Bullshit,” I growl, losing my temper at the thought of Yarrow locked in a cell. “You were parked too far away to see what happened. I was there, and you sat on your ass while she got harassed. You only reacted when she fought back.”

  “Save your testimony for the trial,” mutters Deputy Douchebagasaurus Rex.

  Gripping the counter, I’m ready to jump over it and pound the cop. My fists can already feel his face breaking against them. Ginger glances back at the front door and then smiles at the deputy.

  “I’m certain you’ve heard this before from your parents, but you’re terribly replaceable.”

  Deputy Douchebagasaurus Rex glares at her, and I catch the other officers brace for trouble. If they want a showdown, I can’t imagine Ginger will complain. As good as a brawl might feel—shit, it would feel fucking brilliant too—the crew has a different idea for solving the Yarrow problem.

  “Am I interrupting?” asks Tommy Smith after entering the office.

  The Rawlins mayor smiles at the crew and shakes Ginger’s hand. He flashes his too-white teeth at Deputy Douchebagasaurus Rex and even waves at a woman at the back door. The guy is always selling. It’s the car salesman in him.

  Sheriff Green bolts out of his office as if someone set off a rocket in his ass. He rushes toward the mayor and the men vigorously shake hands. I struggle not to roll my eyes and punch them both in the head.

  “What can we do for you today?” Sheriff Green asks.

  I tear my glare away from the men to scan the three cells in the back of the small office. From my pos
ition, I can’t spot Yarrow, but she must be in one of them. Is she in shock? Do they have her in a back room for interrogation?

  “There seems to have been some kind of kerfuffle today at the Simpson Park,” Mayor Smith says in his flat, friendly voice. “I was informed one of the town’s investors was assaulted. Then in a mix-up, the poor girl was arrested and brought here.”

  “Is that right?” Sheriff Green says, and his gaze flashes to Ginger whose smirk is as subtle as a raised middle finger. “Well, I can’t imagine why we would have made such a mistake. Let me see if I can get things rectified.”

  “Shouldn’t that be up to the prosecutor?” Deputy Douchebagasaurus Rex blurts out as if he were oblivious to the shift of mood in the room.

  I don’t know who wants to punch the guy worse—Ginger or me. I do suspect I can reach him faster.

  “Funny thing,” Mayor Smith says, still wearing that smile. “I talked to the DA, and Jeff Anderson made clear how his office would never file charges against a victim defending herself. Feel free to get him on the phone if you have any questions.”

  Sheriff Green knows arresting Yarrow was a bad move. Ginger’s been throwing her weight around since the crew arrived. They’ve invested money in Rawlins, thereby expecting the same kind of special treatment the mayor and sheriff get. Deputy Douchebagasaurus Rex fucked up royally, and his boss can’t figure out how to fix the Yarrow thing without throwing one of his people under the bus.

  “I understand,” the sheriff says and walks to the back cells. “We’ll begin an investigation into how and why this mistake was made.”

  The mayor somehow manages to smile wider, giving him a shark-like appearance. Ginger does a double-take at his larger grin before nudging Clove who rolls her eyes and whispers something to Pepper.

  “I love a happy ending,” Smith says to Oz and me as if we’re his fucking drinking buddies.

  “Me too,” Ginger announces. “I also love not being replaceable. Don’t you?” she asks the mayor.

  His smile never wavers, but he catches her point. So does Deputy Douchebagasaurus Rex. Everyone in the room stops eyeing the mayor long enough to focus on the cell where Sheriff Green stands.

  “You’re free to leave,” he says louder when the first time doesn’t get him a response.

  Yarrow finally shuffles forward, holding her shoes, and yawning. She says nothing to the sheriff who mumbles an apology about mistakes made.

  “You have the right to remain silent,” she says while walking toward Ginger. “Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law.”

  “That’s my girl,” Ginger whispers and hugs Yarrow to her.

  My presence feels so pointless, yet I need to see Yarrow is safe. I feel invisible standing with the others while Ginger holds Yarrow. Then the broken girl catches my gaze and stares overly focused on me.

  I have no damn clue what Yarrow’s thinking, but she clearly isn’t scared. I see no anger in her blue eyes either. If I had to guess, I’d say she feels challenged. She watches me in the same way the club brothers do when someone mentions who takes the biggest craps.

  Yarrow’s caught on to my interest, and I’m curious as hell at what she plans to do about it.

  Chapter Four

  Life Lesson #4: think twice before speaking

  ➸ Yarrow ☆

  Walking outside with Duffy, we make a path from her townhome down to Ginger’s and back. Repetition calms her. Silence does too. She doesn’t speak except to say “ala king” or “banana” which means whatever she thinks they mean.

  Duffy’s brain doesn’t work normally. Or at least it doesn’t work like other kids’ do. That’s what Ginger told me because I wouldn’t know otherwise. Most people seem weird to me. Duffy’s quirks are no different than anyone else’s.

  To normal people, Duffy and I are the strange ones. She rarely talks, and I say the wrong thing. We both get easily restless and want to pace, though I’d be happier off the property while she sometimes freaks about leaving it. People treat us as if we’re delicate figurines capable of breaking from the slightest offense.

  I let my friends believe what they want about me because I don’t know if they can think any differently. I can’t imagine how the world looks from their eyes, not that I particularly want to. I’m fine with only seeing from mine.

  That’s not the truth anymore, I guess. I’m curious about how Blackjack’s brain works. He interests me as very few people do. I want to know him even if he’s awful. Knowing is better than wondering.

  Twenty minutes after Duffy and I begin our circular backyard journey, Oz and the other Heretics arrive at the parking lot. I hear their Harleys shut off and wonder if Blackjack is with them. I haven’t seen him since I got out of jail, and Ginger put me under house arrest. She wants to keep me safe, but I’m worried Blackjack will forget about me if we’re apart for too long. Without understanding how his brain works, I can’t be certain if he likes someone else now. Assuming he ever liked me to begin with.

  I’m behind Clove’s townhome when the men appear near the pool where Alani and Makoa sit with Ginger. No matter how chilly autumn gets, those three can’t get enough of the water.

  I notice how Blackjack lingers behind the others. Then I catch him looking for me. At least, he’s looking for someone, and his search ends once he spots me.

  Without much thought, I lead Duffy toward the others. She sees her mother and Cayenne offers her a bite of hot dog. The rest of the crew and Heretics are busy talking about food when I stop right in front of Blackjack.

  “Why were you at the park?” I ask, staring up at him. “Are you into me? If the answer is yes, are you interested in sex or dating?”

  My question turns off the sounds around me. No one speaks. Blackjack’s gaze flashes to the women behind me. I think Oz clears his throat first, but Clove is the one who wraps an arm around my waist and guides me toward the house.

  “Wait, I’m interested in either of those options,” I complain when my friends block me from returning to Blackjack. On my tippytoes, I see over Cayenne long enough to catch a glimpse of Oz smacking Blackjack. I can’t see if the hit turns into a full-on fight, but I’m sure their brawl is more entertaining than getting stuck inside with my fellow vagina-bearers.

  “What?” I mutter when they surround me.

  “You can’t date Blackjack,” Ginger says as if stating a fact or giving an order.

  “Did he say that?”

  “No, I’m saying that.”

  “We’re all saying that,” Cayenne adds.

  “I can date whoever I want, and I like Blackjack. He probably likes me too.”

  Clove smiles sympathetically. “You’ve never had a date, so you don’t understand how things work.”

  “It can’t be that complicated when teenagers do it.”

  “What teenagers?” Ginger asks.

  “All of them. I hear them talking at stores, movie theaters, everywhere. They’re younger than me, and they do it.”

  My friends give each other those knowing glances and prepare to gang up on me. Angry now, I’ll scream if necessary, but I won’t bite them. Well, unless they grab me. They really hate getting bit.

  “It’s not just your lack of experience. It’s Blackjack’s reputation as a disgusting manwhore,” Bay says with complete conviction before turning to Pepper. “He is the manwhore one, right?”

  “I don’t know. They’re all the same to me.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say, waving off their comments. “I know how to put on a condom. He can be a whore, and I’ll be safe.”

  “It’s not that. He—”

  I interrupt Ginger by pointing out, “You don’t even know him.”

  “Neither do you.”

  “Exactly. That’s why I want to have a date. How else am I going to find out about him?”

  “Well, you could be friends for a while.”

  “Like you were with Oz?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But you w
ent on dates too.”

  Ginger frowns, having messed up her argument. Cayenne tags in and changes places with Ginger.

  “We want to protect you.”

  “I know.”

  “This interest in a man came out of nowhere.”

  “I’m not a kid,” I say. “I’m not Duffy asking to go on a date. I’m a grown woman, and I’m not asking anyway.”

  “Well, we can make sure Blackjack stays away from you,” Ginger grumbles.

  “If you do, I’ll move out and live on my own.”

  Ginger’s blue eyes widen while Cayenne remains steady. They’re both worried, though. If they weren’t so worried, they’d know I was full of shit. I think Clove knows, and Pepper totally knows, but Ginger’s panic keeps her from thinking straight.

  “What if you two have a date here at the townhomes?” Bay offers after Pepper whispers something in her ear. “That way, if there’s a problem, we’ll be nearby.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “Not even a problem,” Clove says, “but maybe you have a question. Or he gets scared and needs us to save him.”

  I smile at the thought. “I did try to kill him recently.”

  “Yes, you did,” Ginger says, having found her voice. “He upset you so much you wanted him dead.”

  “And now I want to kiss him. People change their minds, Ginger.”

  “Yeah, Ginger,” Clove taunts. “I remember you once hating a stupid ball of hormones. Then you suddenly loved him, and now his cats stink up your house.”

  “My place doesn’t stink,” Ginger grumbles and takes a whiff to make sure she isn’t wrong. “Smells pleasant even.”

  “I’ll have the date here if Blackjack says yes. I don’t even know if he wants me.”

  “Oh, he does,” Pepper tells me and starts for the back door. “You’re hot, and he’s a man.”

  “I’m hot?” I ask Bay who nods.

  “I’d date you for the sex,” Bay explains, “but I don’t see us staying hooked up. You’re too high maintenance.”