Little Jack (Hell's Handlers MC 6)
She found herself trapped by the emotion in his eyes. Not pity, but genuine sorrow for her pain.
“You said it was a biker?”
Words failed her, so she nodded.
LJ slid a finger under the chain of her necklace, fishing it out of her shirt. Once it lay outside her T-shirt, he stroked the pad of his finger over it. Holly gasped. As insane as it sounded, the moment felt incredibly significant. As though he was meeting her sister and earning her approval. Tears filled Holly’s eyes, but she blinked them away, determined to see this as an experience that bonded them, instead of just as a reliving of her grief.
“Tell me about her,” he said.
Holly couldn’t help but smile a wobbly grin as she thought of her sister this time. “She was…she was the best friend a girl could ask for. So different from me even though we looked exactly the same. Joy was bold, outgoing, liked to push the envelope. Where I always wanted to spend my weekends baking and experimenting in the kitchen, she spent her time talking me into breaking the rules and riding our bikes all over town. She’d spend her allowance money before she’d earned it where I saved it for months to by whatever kitchen item I’d had my eye on. She was boy crazy and just plain fun to be around. Just a burst of happy energy. She really did her name justice.”
LJ smoothed his thumb over her lips, then caressed her cheek with his palm. “Sounds like you girls were the perfect complement to each other.”
As she spoke, Holly fiddled with a patch on his cut that symbolized his time in the military. “We were. Two halves of a whole.” And she’d been missing half of her heart for twelve years.
“Will you tell me what happened?”
She lifted her cup and took another few hefty gulps. Only a small amount of wine remained, so—screw it—she sucked back the rest then set the cup down next to the blanket. “She asked me to ride our bikes to the mall, which was just a few miles away. We weren’t allowed to, but Joy had talked me into it more than once. That day, though, I didn’t go. I had something in the oven, and I didn’t think we’d make it back before our dad got home from work, so I turned her down.” The memories of that absolutely horrifying day caused a reaction almost as sharp as though it were yesterday instead of twelve years ago. Her stomach cramped, and she started to shudder.
“Shhh,” LJ said as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. He now sat cross-legged with her cradled against him. “You can stop, sugar.”
His strong arms and clean, soapy scent surrounded her like a protective bubble, making the pain recede a bit. “It’s okay. I want to tell you.”
“All right. Take your time.” He stroked his large palm up and down her back in a hypnotic pattern.
“S-she never made it home.” Holly exhaled. Would the devastating memory of the moment she realized Joy wasn’t coming back ever fade in intensity? Part of her hoped not. That sharp, painful reminder was so much less than Joy had suffered and kept Holly from ever forgetting how she let her sister down. “For about ten days straight, my father and his department searched night and day almost without rest. Finally, they found her on some property owned by the MC. She’d been strangled and dumped behind a building as though—” God, this was the hardest part. To think of or talk about. “As though she was t-trash.” The tears that she’d been battling finally won out and Holly buried her face in LJ’s chest as she let them flow. After this night, the man was going to run so fast he’d leave skid marks.
“Fuck, sugar, I can’t believe you even gave me the time of day once you realized I was in a club.”
With a huffed laugh into his chest, Holly said, “I harnessed Joy. Her wild heart and adventurous spirit. She wouldn’t judge one book by the cover of another.”
“Fuck, Holly, you’re fucking wrecking me.”
If she had her choice, she’d never leave the comfort of his arms. They could just stay right here, tangled up in each other forever. “Want to know something weird?” she said, resting her cheek against his chest. The strong, steady thump of his heart might become her new favorite sound.
“What’s that?”
“About six months before Joy was killed, I was riding my bike home from my friend’s house as fast as my legs would move because I was going to be super late and in serious trouble. My tire hit a rock, and I ended up soaring over the handlebars.”
LJ winced. “Ouch.”
“Oh yeah, hurt like a mother.” She shuddered at the memory of tearing the skin of her knees, elbows, and palms. “So, there I was, lying in the middle of the street with bloodied knees and elbows, but an intact head thanks to the helmet I always gave my parents a hard time about.”