CHAPTER ONE
A FEW WEEKS BEFORE PROLOGUE...
I lock Charlie's door and once in my car, I grab the GPS and punch in the address, pressing go while calling Jess.
On the drive there, I tell her where I'm headed.
"You can't go there by yourself," she says.
"Hey," I speak gently, "They don't know me... it'll be fine, Jess." I giggle at her serious tone, "I just want to see what he looks like now."
"I've told you what he looks like now," she raises her voice.
"That's not the same, you know it, Jess. And besides, it's been a month since the funeral. This is apparently the only way. I mean, you even said it, that he barely gets away from that place." She's silent… I can sense the steady stream of thoughts— all the worst possible scenarios that must be running through her mind as I speak up again, "Come on, Jess. I just want to see for myself… I'll be safe."
She ignores me, finishing her sentiments, "You have to be careful, Bella."
A bug splats on my windshield and I check to make sure I've got the GPS volume up. The robotic voice confirms I've missed a turn and prompts me to turn around.
She's not happy about my choice of destination, it's clear in her rushed words, her serious tone.
"Don't talk to any of those guys. I mean it, they're dangerous."
I find the first street to my left and make a quick turn there.
"And call me when you leave and don't have more than one drink," she quickly spills out her motherly demands before I hang up the phone with an unaffected tone, "I love you, Jess. I'm already missing turns so I gotta go... I'll call you when I leave."
The drive there is quick, just nine minutes from Charlie's house and I take in the sunny day. The hills are dusty and plush, giving way to the vast flat land and the breeze blows through my fingers as I cruise down the road.
A few short minutes later the GPS announces, "Destination is on your left," as I roll out of my daydream where Jacob recognizes me and comes to welcome me with a safe hug and a warm smile.
I squeeze the wheel to turn into a large, gravel drive beneath a big sign that says THE CLUBHOUSE at the top of a tall, steel pole.
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Moving back to San Ansvaro, California after living out middle school, high school and my twenty-second birthday, in Arizona, is quite a change but I'm cool with it.
San An is a quaint little place nestled into the valley, with lush greenery, calm blue skies, and a charming population of just over four thousand. Here, everyone knows everyone, and no-one is really into the materialistic facade like so much of Peterson, Arizona was. You won't find people obsessed with "keeping up with the Joneses" in San An— in fact, half of the people here didn't even go to college.
My dad was kind of grandfathered into the police force and didn't need a degree anyway, Renee didn't go to college and so... I carried on the tradition.
From separate states, my parents kept assuring me that they could make it work no matter what, but when I heard discussions of a second mortgage and things of that nature, there was no decision for me to make. College was out of the question for me. Unless I wanted to work at a place like The Clubhouse late at night.
From what I'm told, Jacob and his crew pretty much run the place.
It's a dark, smoky bar with old couches, wooden bar stools, dart boards, a few pool tables and some of the dirtiest bathrooms in town. Jess says that the staff there are pretty much limited to the town sluts that dress in as little as possible in order to bring home heftier tips. The Clubhouse looks like an old red barn from the front but the back half is a warehouse where the guys run an auto repair business.
I've kept tabs on the happenings of San An, The Clubhouse and Jacob Black through my oldest friend, Jessica. Her cousin is in Jake's crew. Jacob has this brotherhood thing with his guys, they all work together and have this bond that's tighter than blood from she says. They're secretive and tight knit… and it's known across the town that all of them will take a bullet for each other. They do dangerous things, and I only know a fraction of those things from the worries that Jessica has poured over me through countless phone conversations.
She worries about her cousin's life on a daily basis. I don't get it, to be honest.
As far as me and Charlie, aside from a few weekend visits, three years apart at that, I haven't been to San An since I was nine. Being here, without him is odd.
Four weeks ago I got a phone call that Charlie had a heart attack.
He hadn't been ill. He was healthy, happy, and he served his town every single day. It was so unexpected.
I'm a little better now, I think, but that day I made a the decision to move. To pack up my life in Arizona and bring it back with me, here, to the home I hadn't seen in so many years.
I didn't have any of Charlie back in Arizona, and I knew that through his house and his things and this town, I'd still have a part of him here.
The funeral went well, it seemed the whole town showed up aside from Billy and Jacob, which I found surprising, being that Billy was one of Charlie's oldest friends. Jessica was my rock, helping me get the house in some sort of order.
Charlie was enthralled in a case when he passed and had left countless documents and statements strewn about his office. I tried to stack them as neatly as I could, taking extra care to keep them in order so that when I got the time, I could take a peek at what he was trying to figure out. From our conversations, I knew that he'd been working on a case for over a month. He felt like he was on the brink of an answer just before he died. It was one of my priorities to find whatever answer Charlie was in search of when he died.
Jessica and I mopped and dusted and finally got the house looking good. She tackled the god-awful refrigerator, cleaned it out to allow space for the piles upon piles of food that Charlie's church continued to deliver, even though it was just me there.
My mom of course came with me at first. She loved spending the week with Tanya, Jessica's mom, but she had to get back to her life... so with promises to keep in touch every day, relentless hugs, and quite a few tears, she left two days ago.
For weeks now, Jessica has been right by my side, helping with the house, listening to me, laughing with me when I can't cry anymore. I finally kicked her out last week. She has her own life and I've gotta figure out mine. I've mourned and grieved and it still hurts, always will, but I feel a little better now. A lot stronger. I can smile when I think of him instead of tearing up. I can laugh about things he's said and the funny little gestures he would make instead of speaking. I even have the life insurance money to live on, not to mention an entire retirement fund that Charlie had been saving to give me when I get married. I just still feel like I won't be one hundred percent, back to myself, until I get started on making a life and a routine for myself.
So after breakfast this morning, I decided to start out by going to a bar… the one Jacob Black owns. The Clubhouse.
Maybe I'm not so over this grieving process after all.
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The gravel crunches beneath my tires as it spills into a much larger lot that hugs a big red barn. This is definitely the place. Not exactly how I had envisioned, but it fits.
A black crow shows no signs of moving, as it pulls guts from a dead rat, in the space just to the left of where I park.
I'm out of the car and walking towards the entrance when I see the large piece of metal wedged into the pulls of both of the barn doors. The sign on the door points to a much smaller door to my right, about two covered windows down. I pad that way and come to the entrance.
The club is dark, so dark that as I step inside, I have to stop so that I can make out where everything is.
The music is low, not pounding... appropriate for mid-morning in a bar, if that's appropriate at all. I make my way through two pool tables, and toss my purse on a four legged, sticky wooden stool, as my eyes adjust to the darkened atmosphere— a huge contrast to the stark sunlight blaring bright outside.
The brunette in the jean cutoffs approaches to take my order. Lean, tanned arms spill from the cut off sleeves of a plaid button up shirt, tied just above her belly button as she reaches to grab a cocktail napkin and slide it in front of me.
"Hi, the name's Alice. What can I get you?" Her painted red lips pop the gum as she looks away, waiting for my order.
This place really doesn't feel that dangerous to me, in fact... I almost like the atmosphere here.
"I'll just take a rum and coke, Captain if you have it."
She looks back to me with a smile, "All day long," her sparkling eyes are lined with the blackest liner and they crinkle as she smiles and turns to grab the bottle of rum. I find myself staring at her. She's small and super cute with a red bandanna tied around her head... her dark hair pinned in silky swirls. Small black boots make squishy sounds as she crosses back to the bar to scoop the ice into the plastic cup.
She looks just like a picture I've seen.
She blows another bubble as the rum coats the cubes of ice while she pours. The fizz of the coke makes my mouth water and her bright eyes are on me again as she places my drink on the napkin, sliding it to me with a sweet smile.
"Three dollars," she waits.
"Really? That's all?"
"I don't make the rules… I don't even work here. But the sign's right there." Her finger points above her head, where a white sign with black stick on letters spells out:
ALL BEERS 1.75
LIQUOR 3.00
I reach in my bag and grab the money as she waits.
When I look back up I notice that Alice is consumed by a soap on the tv over her shoulder, as she waits for me, so I just lay the money on the bar.
"What a weasel!" she says as she turns around with a look of disgust, eyeing the money as she reaches for it.
I look around as she walks back to the cash register, not paying any attention to where she goes, or what she's doing… her eyes glued to the screen.
There are two guys in the dark corner lit by a swinging light above the table where they're playing a game of pool. Close by, there are a few more that look a little intimidating, huddled in serious conversation. There's some sort of diagram laid out on the table that they're all in deep discussion over, each with fingers pointing to certain areas on the page. Tv's are all around, each on a different channel. One older guy sits at the end of the bar where I've just pulled up a chair. Looks like he's been here awhile, maybe overnight, might possibly be sleeping here, soon.
In my peripheral, I notice movement through a window of a door behind the bar. This door seems to separate the front of the building from the back. I quickly conclude that must be the door to "operations" and I squint to see what I can.
I can see a few guys back there, one in particular.
The glass in the window is pretty dirty. Smears on it… fingerprints. But I can make out the guy with his back to me… no shirt, black basketball shorts on and a black hat turned around backwards.
A little chill of excitement runs through me as I watch his movements. He's in serious shape.
Above him, a steel bar hangs where his hands grip and his strength pulls him up and lowers him back down.
I glance to see that Alice is still enthralled with the show she's watching and the guy at the end of the bar is slowly lowering his head to the fold of his arms. He'll be out in just a few.
Through the view in the window I see long tattooed arms stretched out. A strong, taut, tattooed back spreads wide. Muscles move, stretch and constrict. I watch him power out each rep, as his body moves up and down. Up and down.
I'm unable to look away.
His biceps bulge as he pulls up, his calves constrict as he crosses them to keep from touching the ground below. I watch because I can't not.
I don't know how many reps he's done, I don't even know how long it's been but I watch as he bangs out one last slow lift and on the descent he uncrosses his legs to place both feet on the ground. He's done.
He walks out the pain as he moves his arms, stretching them, walking back and forth, in and out of my view. From the side I can see he's attractive. Younger, maybe my age, maybe a few years older.
He comes back into view and he's coming this way.
The silver door swings towards the bar, and the sounds of music playing spill into the bar from the back as he walks in. He's pretty tall, probably 6'2" or so, his entire body tattooed. Neck, stomach, arms, legs… everything. Except his face. He doesn't look this way.
He takes slow, quiet strides over, towards the other end of the bar, where Alice is. His hat is off and he lays it beside the register. He forms a devious look on his face as he lightly rubs his hand over his shaved head while inching closer and then reaches for Alice.
By the looks of his face, he doesn't look like the tattoo type. He has baby soft skin and sweet eyes. I notice his nice, almost perfect brows, sculpted cheeks, chiseled jaw bone and his big, pouty lips as his long fingers grab for her shorts pocket. She doesn't look away from the tv as he pulls her to him, grabbing her head to pull him into his chest. He reaches around to fold himself all around her. Rubbing her face into his chest.
Alice is the luckiest woman alive right now.
"Eww!" She shrieks.
Immediately she withdraws, pushing herself away from him... both hands moving from his chest and then back, punching him. He's smiling bright and his eyes are vivid crystals… gorgeous. His head tilts back, lips parted and he's laughing. Alice is still pushing him for rubbing his sweat all over her while she was caught off guard.
I turn away as soon as they quiet their tussling and I grab my phone quickly. I don't want them to know I'm the biggest loser in the place with nothing better to do than drink alone, in a bar before noon, much less know I just watched with eyes glued, all of that.
I can hear him walking this way… sliding a cup off the stack and he's in front of me now. Scooping ice.
I look at him.
Jesus.
He's gorgeous.
He's not paying me one bit of attention. I can't help it. I'm ogling him now.
He spouts water into his cup, holding his hands right where the V under his abs leads to that place. His abs have a sweat sheen that laces the large face of a tiger, inked across his torso.
Alice scolds him from across the room, back turned, back in tv land, "You should get some clothes on."
A deep voice speaks, "What do you think?"
He's talking to me.
He's asking me this question.
He looks over to Alice with a smirk and back to me, "You think I should put some clothes on?"
Where is my brain.
His crystal eyes pierce right through me. He already knows my answer.
"I'm not mad at you," is all I can spill. And a light laugh with a smile. Because what the fuck.
He quickly turns, cup in hand, dismissing me like we never spoke.
"See... she likes it. So do you." He swats her on the butt and walks back towards the door he came in, calling over his shoulder, "Quit your denial, Alice. You love me. Accept this thing we have, the sooner the better." And with that, he pushes the door making it swing fast, banging as he walks through, back to where he was.
I'm not only blushing but I feel a little jealous right now. And she's still completely enthralled in that soap.
A minute or two passes and I haven't even sipped my drink. I didn't even come here for the drink… I came here to see Jacob. I notice the hourglass on the screen and hear her say "He's is never going to change people, wake up ugh," as she walks toward me.
Her soft bell voice rings out as she asks me, "You ready for another one?"
One glance at my cup and the answer is clear, but I pick it up and toss it back in just a few gulps and reply with a yes.
She goes to reach for my cup and immediately retracts, "Let me wash my hands first." She forms a disgusted look, pointing to her other hand and says, "Briggs." Her eyes roll and she looks back to me as I return an understanding smile.
That name, Briggs. A light bulb turns on in my head. That's how I know all of the things I know. She's never mentioned that Briggs was… that hot. I send her a quick text.
jess wtaf. you never mentioned that briggs is megahot. you've been holding out.
She immediately replies. Um, He's my cousin.
I tap out a quick text. explains nothing. you and i have some talking to do.
Never mind that, has Jake showed up yet? She ignores my attempts to get more info on this hot cousin of hers.
no sign. but I probably wouldn't have noticed anyway. too busy slobbering over your cousin. jesus, jessica. I mean, my life just became a lot more interesting if you ask me, I wanna know all the things, now.
I put my phone back in my purse and grab a five.
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A/N: Did any of you like Briggs as much as I do? I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks to those of you who have pm'd with encouraging words. And a mega thanks to those that have taken the time to leave your thoughts in a review. I'll see you soon, hopefully tomorrow, with Jacob and Edward.