CHAPTER SIX
jenna
It becomes increasinglyclear to me that the Hell Chasers don’t have early morning day jobs, or they wouldn’t be partying on a Thursday night. I can’t believe I had been so stupid as to drink five mixed drinks. I mean, I can handle my liquor pretty well, but those were the strongest little devils I’ve ever had. Clearly hungover, my head pounds from all sides, and I feel like if I try to move, I might vomit. This is why I usually limit myself to two drinks—I’m fine while actually drinking, but the mornings after are hell.
I drag myself out of bed, shoving sunglasses over my eyes as I leave my cave of a bedroom and make my way to the coffeepot. Like always, Marley had set it when we got home last night so that it started brewing right at 6:00 a.m. The welcoming smell of my favorite blend hits my nose, and my mouth pools with saliva in anticipation of the first drink. I pour myself a cup and head to the bathroom.
Flipping on the light, I peer at myself in the mirror, feeling pretty proud. Even in my inebriated state, I managed to complete my entire skincare routine and put my hair in overnight curlers before bed. I want to give Drunk Jenna a hug for saving Sober Jenna a ton of time getting ready this morning.Although I’d done my due diligence in the beauty department last night, I still woke up with horrendous dark circles under my eyes. Each one screams for concealer.
I do a light makeup look, fluff out my hair, and go to get dressed. Usually, I have my morning routine down to twenty minutes, but today I feel like I’m moving at a snail’s pace. I’m never drinking again…
“Morning,” Marley groans, trudging out of her own bedroom. Her normally perfect, straight brown hair is sticking up in all directions. She’s wearing an extremely large men’s t-shirt that practically drowns her small frame—a motorcycle stretches the length of her chest. Must be Blaze’s. She didn’t drink last night since she promised to be our designated driver, but staying up until 3 a.m. really did a number on her. She always needs a lot of sleep to be a functioning adult.
“Morning. Thanks for driving last night, you little liar,” I say, eyeing her from my room as I pull my favorite green dress down over my body.
“Okay, first of all, I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you the whole truth,” she says as she walks over to get a cup of coffee. “And besides, I saw you having fun.” She pokes her head back around the corner and looks at me with a knowing smile.
“It was alright,” I smile back at her. As I look up at her, I catch sight of the clock on the wall behind her. Shoot, I’m going to be late.
“Can we chat about last night when I get home? I’m going to be late if I don’t leave now.”
“Of course, go! But don’t think you’re getting out of this conversation,” she says, shuffling back to her bedroom.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I mumble as I run out the door.
I make it to school with minutes to spare. Luckily, I never leave work without having all my lessons and materials ready togo for the next day. Really, all I have to do today is teach the lessons, and I can be back home in my bed in no time.
I’ve been looking forward to having a weekend at home, cuddled up on the couch, ordering my favorite Chinese takeout, and watching sappy romantic comedies. A good rot day is just what I need.
I’m writing today’s date on the board when I hear a small knock on the door. I walk through the rows of desks, straightening name tags as I go. I take pride in my classroom and the attention to detail I put into the space. I believe my students deserve a calm and welcoming environment. I open the door to a tiny blonde holding a to-go coffee and a pastry bag. I kneel down in front of her—I recognize Sarah right away.
“Ms. Waters!” Sarah exclaims with the sweetest smile. “My Uncle Axel told me to bring these to you. He says you’ll need them this morning.” She holds out the large coffee and what appears to be a breakfast sandwich. My stomach growls as I look at the welcome treat. In my hurried race out the door, I forgot my travel mug full of coffee on the counter. I try not to think about how incredibly thoughtful this is and will the butterflies in my stomach to stop flapping. Why hadn’t Axel just brought these himself? He probably knew I wouldn’t have taken them from him. Again, I barely know the guy.
The bell rings, and kids start filing into classrooms. I grab the drink and food from Sarah and smile at her.
“Thank you for bringing these to me. Now head to class. Have a great day!”
She skips off to class, leaving me in the empty hallway. I try to shake off the surprise breakfast from Axel and focus on teaching today. The gesture is sweet, but I don’t want to dwell on it too much. Maybe he’s just being friendly and does this for all the girls he makes out with. I roll my eyes at myself for even thinking that.
Axel is the type of guy who only does things with a purpose, and I’m just not sure what purpose that is yet. I just know I need to stay far away.
CHAPTER SEVEN
axel
Prince bangshis heavy metal gavel against the table, signaling the beginning of Church. This is where officers of the club meet. We all sit around a large wood table with the Hell Chaser’s emblem carved into the center—angel wings set on fire by the flames beneath them. To outsiders, this might seem strange—bikers forming a meeting—but this is our place to discuss club business and make decisions. Church is sacred. If you miss one of these meetings’, there’s hell to pay.
I look around the room at my brothers, all ready to go to war over the Reapers encroaching on our territory, but we have to make a plan first. I’ve seen clubs wiped out after making quick reactions to shit like this. We need to be calculated and methodical in our approach.
“Alright, I hope all you fuckers had your fill of fun last night because it will be your last for a while.” Prince looks out across the table, making eye contact with each of us. “We have shit to handle,” he snarls, nodding toward Blaze, who is sitting to my left.
“We caught a few Reapers hanging out down near the diner. Both acted like it was their fucking territory. Jax and I dealt with them and sent them packing, but I don’t think they plan onstaying away,” Blaze explains as he leans forward. “Jax thought he saw one of ‘em dealing, so that adds another level to this shit.” He shakes his head. We got out of the drug business a few years back when Prince took over. Shit was ruining our community, and he wasn’t going to stand for it.
Blaze snorts and shakes his head like he’s remembering something funny, but when his eyes lift, I see a fury in them, one I haven’t seen in a long time. Something else happened.
“One of them mentioned us needing to watch our backs—the normal shit-talking we always hear—but this time, it was different. He started talking about the old ladies. Even fucking mentioned Marley by name to me.” He slams his fist on the table in a rage. “By the time I went to strangle the motherfucker, they were hightailing it out of the lot.”
I understand his fury. No one threatens one of us or the people we care about and lives to talk about it. The tension around the table visibly thickens as the men in this club with old ladies sit a little taller. What the fuck are the Reapers playing at, coming after the women of the club? It’s an unwritten rule that women and children are off limits, but it seems the Reapers aren’t playing by the book.
