Jennie

Why did I ever listen to Chanyeol?

I dropped my gaze from the mirror and stared at the napkin on the bar. Was it too late to cancel my order? My stomach growled but a cheeseburger didn't sound appetizing anymore. I didn't want to be here by myself anyway, but especially if Lisa was here with Tzuyu—holy shit, she's pretty—Chou.

Why did it hurt to see them together? Of course she'd be with a movie star. Lisa was a movie star. I kept forgetting.

Lately, she'd just become . . . Lisa. My wickedly sexy, flirtatious neighbor.

Tzuyu was stunning. Her long, blond hair was shiny and thick. It was actually similar to the hair I'd once had. She was tall though, and she had breasts bigger than B cups. Standing beside Lisa, with her lips at her ear, they were the perfect pair.

I raised my hand to snag the bartender's attention from where she was talking to another customer. "Can I get my order to go?"

She smiled. "Sure, hon."

I should have just gone home after work, but Chanyeol's words from this morning had been playing in my head all day.

Don't hide away from the world, Jen. Don't let Taehyung win.

I didn't think I was hiding, but Chanyeol had made some good points. I used to be out, visible in town more often. I loved grabbing a coffee at the coffee shop on Saturday mornings and meandering along Central, especially in the summer. But since the wedding, I hadn't set foot downtown unless it had been to stop by the bank and make the garage's deposits.

I'd been humiliated and hiding my bruised heart at home, like my mother had done with her black-and-blues.

I refused to become my mother.

So here I was, not hiding, still humiliated, but the agony had faded.

Chanyeol had told me to stop worrying about gossip and other people's opinions. He was right. Who cared if people whispered behind my back? Eventually, it would stop if I showed the world I was happy on my own. But if I became a hermit, the pity would continue. I'd be that broken woman who avoided life.

So after work tonight, I'd gone to get a burger rather than escape into chores at home.

I had to wash my bedding tonight. Chanyeol's drool was probably on my pillow along with the stale scent of blood and wind. After he'd apologized and hugged me, he'd nearly passed out from exhaustion. Staying up all night, riding to Ashton and beating the shit out of my ex-fiancé before riding home could really wear a guy out. I'd pushed him toward my bed and told him to take a nap while I went to work.

While I did the wash, I'd eat my burger. Alone.

Stockyard's wasn't as busy as the diner. This was a bar with bar food, but their burgers were delicious and the owners made sure families were welcome. The room was dimly lit and quiet music played over the speakers. The only thing I didn't like was the poker table at the back.

This had been Taehyung's preferred poker stop. He used to bring me a burger and fries on the nights when he'd get home before midnight. We'd eat them together on the couch while he'd tell me about his game.

The appeal of the game eluded me, no matter how many times he explained the rules and strategy. But I'd been innately supportive, like my mother.

Supporting a man with horrific habits was her ultimate weakness.

If—when I began dating, I was breaking that cycle.

And I would not hide.

Starting tomorrow.

Lisa had stepped away from Tzuyu, shooting her a glare and jabbing her finger toward a table. When her back was to her, she sneered at me through the mirror.

I kept my head down, blocking out the sound of their hushed voices. Tzuyu laughed, too loud, and it carried across the room. My eyes caught them again.

She wore her multi-million-dollar smile as she placed her hand on Lisa's arm.

Lisa removed it.

So maybe they weren't together, but regardless, it was a good reminder.

She might feel a lot of things toward me but getting involved with Lisa Manoban would only lead to disaster.

The bartender came out of the kitchen with a paper sack in her hand. "Here you go."

"Thanks." I smiled and left a twenty on the bar. "Keep the change."

I slung my purse over my shoulder, took my food and walked straight for the door.

"Jennie." Lisa's voice was like honey, smooth and thick and sweet.

"Hey." I looked up, and damn it, one glimpse of those eyes made me shiver. "What's up?"

"Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Hungry."

"About this morning. I, uh . . ."

"Forget about it." I waved it off as she struggled for what to say.

Her jaw ticked. "You and Chanyeol seem close."

"So do you and Tzuyu."

"There's nothing there."

I lifted a shoulder. "Not my business. See you around, Lisa."

"Jennie—"

I was out the door as my name floated off her lips. My Jeep was waiting around the corner. I got in and wasted no time going home.

Chanyeol was right. I needed to rejoin society.

But not until Lisa Manoban was gone. Not until there wasn't a risk of seeing those golden eyes and letting myself daydream that a rich and beautiful star had her sights set on me.

"Got a sec?" Kyungsoo asked from the doorway between the shop and office.

"Yeah." I stood, following him into the shop, smiling at the customer waiting and reading on her phone.

Kai, Sehun and Chanyeol were standing beside a tool bench. I scanned the room, searching for our other two mechanics. "Where are Sawyer and Tyler?"

"Out back." Kyungsoo tossed his thumb to the wall. "We need to regroup on the Warriors."

Chanyeol groaned. "We talked about this yesterday."

Yes, we had. At length.

When Kyungsoo had come to the garage and I'd told him about Chanyeol, he'd gone ballistic. I hadn't seen him that mad in years. When Chanyeol had finally crawled out of my bed and joined us at the garage, Kyungsoo had hauled him into the office and proceeded to lecture him for an hour about the Warriors.

"Yeah, we talked about it yesterday," Kyungsoo snapped, the anger lingering. "But we talked about it in June too. I used to not have to repeat myself, but since you didn't listen the first time, I want to make sure it's clear. Stay the fuck away from the Warriors."

"I know." Chanyeol threw his hands in the air. "I fucked up, okay? I'm sorry."

"Have you heard anything?" Kai asked.

Kyungsoo shook his head. "Not yet, but one of their members got his ass kicked by one of us. You know them as well as I do. They'll retaliate."

"Goddamn it." Sehun dropped his gaze to the floor. "We don't need this."

"It's not going to blow back on you," Chanyeol said. "That fucker knows exactly why I did it. If the Warriors come after anyone, it'll be me."

"We don't stand alone." Kai clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Never have."

"I shouldn't have done it," Chanyeol muttered. "I was drunk and stupid. I mean it. I'm sorry. I'll get ahold of Tucker and explain."

Tucker Talbot was the president of the Arrowhead Warriors. He was ruthless and cunning. The man scared the hell out of me. He was not like Drake. There was no soft side to Tucker.

"No. I'll be the one to call Tucker." Kyungsoo's entire body went rigid. His fists were so tight he could have crushed bolts to glitter.

There was no love lost between the BPs and the Warriors, but I hadn't seen Kyungsoo like this before. His fury vibrated around us.

Was I missing something?

"Sorry, Kyungsoo." Chanyeol looked truly miserable. His knuckles weren't as red as they had been yesterday morning at my house, but the crack in his lip almost seemed worse.

I gulped. What did Taehyung look like?

"I get it." Kyungsoo huffed. "I wanted to do the same."

My frame slumped. This was not what I wanted when I'd planned my simple, classy wedding.

"This isn't your fault." Sehun threw his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side.

"I just want to forget the whole thing ever happened."

"It's forgotten," Kyungsoo declared. "As of today, it's done. I'll do what I can to smooth things over with the Warriors, and we'll put it behind us."

He made it sound so easy.

Maybe it was.

I didn't think about Taehyung much these days, and I had Lisa to thank for that. She occupied the thoughts that had once been reserved for my fiancé. She and her movie had taken the place of wedding planning.

"Let's get back to work," Kyungsoo said as Sawyer and Tyler rounded the corner of the shop, returning to work after a cigarette break.

I was glad those two had each other. They'd bonded quickly when they'd started working here, much like Sehun and I had after his first day. Sawyer and Tyler probably wondered why the five of us were always talking without them. What did they say about us as they smoked out back?

I made a mental note to tell Kyungsoo we needed to include them more in our regular activities. I didn't want either of them to feel like an outsider—I knew all too well what that was like.

"Hey, guys." I waved at them before heading to the office.

They nodded and Sawyer returned the gesture.

Chanyeol followed me to the office with Kyungsoo bringing up the rear. The minute we entered, Kyungsoo's shoulders fell with the weight of a thousand bricks and he trudged to his office, closing the door. He was probably calling Tucker.

Chanyeol met my gaze and his was full of so much regret, so much sorrow. It was rare to see past his cocky, playboy exterior to the fears underneath.

"It'll be okay." I walked right into his space, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry, Jen," he said, returning my hug. "It was eating at me and I lost my head."

"You're going to get yourself killed," I whispered so the customer waiting couldn't hear. "Don't make me bury you too."

"Never." He held me closer.

Kyungsoo had labeled me a hugger years ago. It was true. I hugged. But what people didn't seem to understand was that I didn't only hug for them. I hugged for me. When my emotions got the best of me, when life got to be too much, I always went for the hug.

My sister had taught me that.

Chanyeol dwarfed me. My head only came to the center of his chest, but I held him as tight as my arms would allow. Maybe if I held tight enough, this would go away. Like Kyungsoo had promised, today would be the end. Chanyeol wouldn't be in danger of some violent retribution delivered at the hands of the Arrowhead Warriors.

All because he'd been drinking at The Betsy and had gotten a wild hair up his ass to punish Taehyung.

Chanyeol had told us that Taehyung hadn't been hard to find. He'd been at a bar, playing poker—shocker. Taehyung wasn't going to change. Chanyeol had ordered a drink and hung out until Taehyung had spent his chips, after two in the morning. Then Chanyeol had beat the hell out of him. I'd been spared the gory details.

Then he'd driven home, stopped at a gas station to wash up and come to my place.

"What's up with that Lisa one?" Chanyeol asked, letting me go.

I shrugged. "She's my temporary neighbor."

"She likes you."

"Maybe." I suspected Lisa liked a lot of women and they liked her in return. "It doesn't matter."

Chanyeol's face soured and he glanced toward the shop. "She's getting the bare minimum paint job on the bike Sehun's building."

"Ha!" I laughed. "No, she is not. That bike is making us a lot of money, and it's going to be in a movie. You'll do the best damn paint job of your life on that motorcycle so that when the fictional Drake rides it down the street, it'll be one the real Drake would have been proud to ride."

He grumbled and shook his head, but he'd do his best work. Chanyeol loved Drake as much as I did, if not more. It was the reason Chanyeol's drinking had increased ever since Drake's funeral. His nights at The Betsy used to be limited to two or three a week, but he went nearly every night these days. And Drake died three years ago.

Kyungsoo had tried talking to Chanyeol about it. So had Kai. But lectures about drinking and women fell on deaf ears. Besides, who was Kai to talk? He didn't flaunt it as much, but he partied too. Chanyeol's crutch was alcohol. Kai's was women. I heard the rumors about who he hooked up with on any given weekend.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked Chanyeol.

"Are you?"

"Yes." I'd said it automatically, but deep down, there was truth behind that word.

Chanyeol winked and returned to work. I smiled at our customer and returned to my desk, taking a moment to face my screen and close my eyes.

What a damn mess.

Behind Kyungsoo's closed door, I heard the low rumble of his voice but couldn't make out the words.

I glanced up at the picture of Drake and his sons, wishing more than ever he was here. He'd fix things. Drake would straighten out Chanyeol and take some of the weight off Kyungsoo. He'd tell Kai to stop messing around so that when a woman with staying power showed up, he'd be ready.

But Drake was gone.

We'd buried him beside his wife in the cemetery. The service had been small, no more than twenty people invited to huddle around the casket.

Nayeon and Kyungsoo. Jisoo and Sehun. Kai and his mom. Chanyeol had stood by me. Nick and his wife, Emmeline, had been there with their two crying kids, who had adored their grandfather. Some of the former BPs who still lived in town had attended.

Kyungsoo had attempted some words, but when he'd stumbled over them, Nick had taken over.

After he was done, we'd left. I'd gone home alone—Taehyung had been in Ashton, vying for his position as a prospect for the Warriors—and cried all day.

No matter how many times I tried to imagine Drake's death, it left me unsettled. Suicide? That hadn't been his style. Drake had been the kind to go out in a blaze of glory, not hanging from a noose in his own home.

Was it possible that he hadn't killed himself?

My thoughts were interrupted when Tyler came in with the customer's car keys. I hurried to take her payment and smiled as she waved goodbye. Then the office was quiet again.

I hated the quiet.

I stared at Kyungsoo's closed door, waiting for it to open. I didn't have to wait long. He stepped out and looked . . . beaten. Kyungsoo Slater never backed down.

"Are you okay? How did it go?"

"I don't know," he muttered, coming to the chair across from my desk.

It was days like this when I wish Nayeon still wrote her stories at the garage instead of at the newspaper. She'd know what to say to Kyungsoo. He'd confided in her about the club, things I'd never know.

"I think we'll be okay," he said. "I just don't want to get a call one night from Paul at The Betsy, telling me that Chanyeol is drowning in a pool of his own blood."

My stomach turned. "Me neither."

"Sorry, Jen."

"If this is anyone's fault, it's Taehyung's."

Kyungsoo chuckled. "I'm good with blaming him."

"Me too." I bit my lower lip, hesitating to ask the question that had been on my mind before he'd come out, but I had to know. "Can I ask you something?"

"Course." He relaxed into the chair.

"I've been thinking a lot about your dad lately. With the wedding and the movie, he's been on my mind. I need to know something. Was it really suicide?"

Kyungsoo's eyes flooded with grief, and a pained expression crossed his face. "Jen, I—"

"Please? Tell me the truth. Trust me with it."

He blew out a long breath, then shook his head. "No. It wasn't."

A stab of pain hit me in the chest, like I was experiencing Drake's death all over again. Tears flooded my eyes and my lungs struggled to hold in air. Wasn't I supposed to feel better, knowing the truth? Instead, I felt like I'd grieved the wrong way. Was that possible? To grieve incorrectly?

There'd been blame inside my grief. Resentment that Drake had left us behind. When really, there should have been anger and fury and revenge.

"Who?" I asked.

"I can't tell you that."

"The Warriors?"

Kyungsoo stayed quiet, giving nothing away, which gave everything away.

"You should have told me. Did you think I'd betray you?"

"No, but you were marrying one of them, Jennie. You were going there every weekend. It would have made things worse for you. I didn't want that."

"Except it's worse now. I've spent three years asking the wrong why." I took a deep breath, giving my emotions a minute to level. Then I raised my gaze and, this time, asked the right question. "Why? Why did they kill him?"

"He made an arrangement with Tucker to save Jisoo and me."

"Oh." My hand covered my aching heart.

Drake had protected his children. It made perfect sense because that was who he'd been. He'd sacrificed his life to save his kids from Tucker and the Warriors.

And because of me, because of Taehyung, I'd brought Tucker back into Kyungsoo's life. No wonder he'd looked so angry in the shop. That phone call was probably the last one he'd ever wanted to make.

"I'll text Taehyung and tell him it was my fault for Chanyeol," I said. "Maybe that will help."

Kyungsoo shook his head. "Just leave it. I doubt it will do any good."

"But will it hurt?"

"It might. Leave it. Leave him. With any luck, we'll never have to see the guy again."

"Okay." I wanted to help defuse the situation, but if there was a chance I'd make it worse, then I'd take Kyungsoo's advice.

He stood from the chair and walked toward the shop. Kyungsoo would go lose himself in a car for a while, then he'd go home to his family and be all right. He paused at the door, his hand on the knob when he glanced over his shoulder. "Happy Birthday."

"Shh." I put a finger to my lips.

I hated my birthday, something Kyungsoo and the guys knew. Kai had winked at me this morning but hadn't muttered those words. Chanyeol had whistled "Happy Birthday" under his breath. Sehun had brought me a latte from the coffee hut.

"Are you sure you don't want to celebrate?" he asked. "I'll buy you a beer."

"I'm sure. But thanks."

Kyungsoo left me to get back to work, and I treated the afternoon like any normal day. I paid bills. I got started on the month-end financial report. I bid farewell to the guys and locked up at five.

It wasn't until the drive home that loneliness crept under my skin.

It happened every year on my birthday, and I was surprised it hadn't hit me sooner.

I missed Irene. Today especially, I missed my sister.

Our birthday was something we'd always made special for one another. It was the one day my mother would put us first. She'd make us a cake. She'd spend hours cleaning so the house was spotless. She'd let Dad give us our presents and take credit for buying them even though we knew she'd done all the work.

She'd bend over backward making sure there was nothing that might set him off.

It worked. I couldn't remember a birthday when Dad had raised his hand to any of us. There were never any bruises or welts to hide the next morning.

My birthday used to be a good day.

Celebrating without Irene held no appeal.

I parked in the driveway and took out my phone, sending Irene the same text I sent her every year.

Happy Birthday.

There'd be no reply, but I'd sent it into the universe and hoped, wherever she was, that it found her well.

I scooped up my purse and opened my door just as Lisa's shiny, black SUV pulled into the driveway next door.

"Hey." She waved after getting out.

I waved back. "Hey."

She had a backpack slung over one shoulder, her sunglasses in her hair. "How was your day?"

"Fine." I shrugged, unable to move away from my Jeep and disappear inside. "You?"

"Good." She waited for me to say more and when I didn't, she took the first stair toward her porch.

"Lisa?"

"Yeah?" Her foot backed down to the sidewalk, like she'd been waiting for an excuse to come closer.

I gave her one. "It's my birthday."

She crossed the lawn, a small smile toying at her mouth. "Happy Birthday."

"I'm ordering pizza."

"Pizza's good." Lisa grinned. "But I've been craving carrots."

I laughed and nodded for her to follow me inside. "I happen to have some carrots."