Kess

  Tijan

  Copyright © 2021 by Tijan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Originally edited and proofread for One More Step anthology by The Bookworm Box.

  Contents

  1. Kess

  2. Kess

  3. Kess

  4. Christopher

  5. Kess

  6. Kess

  7. Kess

  8. Christopher

  9. Kess

  10. Wraith

  11. Kess

  12. Christopher

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Tijan

  1

  Kess

  One more step would mean certain death.

  The words were scribbled on a piece of paper, taped to a bathroom stall, and I was about out of patience. I ripped it off, balled it up, and tossed it into the garbage. I knew why they put the note up, because this was the druggie stall.

  Asshats.

  There were three other stalls open, which wasn’t normal, but we were in the end run of the school year. Graduation was in two days. It was our last official day of school, though most seniors stopped coming a long time ago. Not me. I was here because of detention.

  Detention.

  I growled under my breath.

  I was about to head inside the stall, find the drugs I knew were stashed somewhere, and I was going to mess with them. I was going to hide them somewhere else in the bathroom, but just as I hit the door to open, the main door to the bathroom swung wide.

  In walked Tasmin Shaw.

  “Hey, Kess.”

  I paused, trying to stomp down some of my irritation. It wasn’t her fault I was here for detention, but it was her brother’s and his whole group’s fault. There was a situation they brought about that ended with me getting detention. It was a whole round-about thing, and it didn’t really matter in the long run. But, I couldn’t be mean to Tasmin Shaw, or Taz as she was called by her friends. There were a few different reasons why I wanted to, but none really had to do with Taz as a person.

  One, Taz was nice. Like actually nice.

  Two, she was connected. Taz was not only popular, but she was well connected with the toughest crew still going strong in our school. We have a system, or had a system. There used to be a whole chain of groups that weren’t gangs, but we weren’t all friends either. We were in the medium between those extremes, and tended to look down on those who weren’t in a crew. That meant you weren’t loyal, and if you were crew, loyalty was like blood to us.

  You needed it to be crew, or you were simply ‘less than.’

  Or I used to think so.

  And three, there was a respect issue here because Taz’s brother’s woman was now the only female in a crew. There’d been one other girl, but no more, and I can say that because it was me. I used to be in a crew. We weren’t big or even tough, but we were a crew and I loved my crew.

  Now we were nothing.

  “Hey, Taz.”

  She stopped before going into her own stall, noted where I was standing, and raised her eyebrows. “You okay?”

  I’d forgotten what I was going to do.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  Taz gave me another smile and went into her stall.

  I moved inside mine, and a second later, her voice came through the room. “Do you have any plans for the weekend?”

  The weekend. Shit. I usually did, but that was before my crew broke up.

  Now, “Not really. You?”

  Her toilet flushed—when had she even pissed? A beat later, her door opened, and she went out to the sink. Me, I was still standing just inside my door. I hadn’t even closed it behind me, so here we go I guess. I nudged it back open, edging farther out as she washed her hands. Her eyes found mine in the mirror.

  An emotion flickered in them, and oh no.

  I was already readying myself, because whatever that was, I didn’t like it. My gut was tightening up.

  “You know, I heard that Zeke Allen from Fallen Crest Academy is probably going to throw a rager. They party almost every night over there.”

  I wanted to snort in disgust, or at least disdain. I didn’t.

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded, finishing up drying her hands, and stepped back from the sink. “Where are your guys? Usually they’d be out in the hall if you’re in here.”

  There was the whole gut tightening again. Right there.

  I jerked a shoulder up. “They’re out doing their thing. I’ll catch up with them later.”

  “Are you dating one of them? Monica mentioned that one time.”

  “Monica doesn’t know anything.”

  She was referring to one of her friends, who truly didn’t know shit.

  “Oh.”

  Those eyes of hers. Tawny and hazel, and there’s a reason she and her brother were some of the most ridiculously good-looking people in our school. It wasn’t fair. But the kindness and concern were what was really setting my teeth on edge.

  I didn’t need her pity.

  “Anyways,” I blasted her with a bright, but dismissive smile, “I gotta go to the bathroom. So…” Enough said. I moved inside my stall, shut the door, and sat. Then I waited.

  That was rude.

  I was feeling like an asshole, but a moment later she was edging for the door. She was going slow, and that tugged at me because Taz Shaw wasn’t known for moving at a slow pace. She bounced. She hurried. She darted. She didn’t move slow, and she wasn’t my friend.

  The door swished open and closed, and I cursed under my breath.

  But, what? Go and attend a rich asshole’s party tonight as a tagalong? I wasn’t a tagalong. I’d never been a tagalong, and fuck if I was going to become one.

  But because my day was still in the toilet (lame humor), that didn’t mean I couldn’t mess someone else’s day up, too.

  I found the drugs, but I didn’t hide them. I flushed them.

  Then I went to my last detention of my high school career, and that sucked too.

  I wished I hadn’t flushed the drugs.

  2

  Kess

  I was walking to the parking lot when I heard the bike’s engine roar. A moment later, he parked on the clear opposite end of the lot, right next to my own motorbike. He did that on purpose. His head turned, his helmet still on, but I already knew the cockiest smirk of all smirks was on his face as he was watching me come toward him.

  Christopher.

  How I knew this guy was beyond me.

  He transferred in the beginning of the year, and he was barely around. In fact, people really didn’t know he was even at our school and I could get why. He showed up for first period, ducked out, and who knew where he disappeared to until seventh period.

  I didn’t know his story. I didn’t know why he was only around for those two classes, how he got exempt from class projects, speeches, anything that might’ve drawn attention to him. But somehow it worked. The teachers never called his name for roll call. They literally skipped over him as if he wasn’t in the classroom, and after a month of whispering from the girls and weird looks from the guys, they all accepted it.

  It helped that he didn’t say anything.

  It also helped that he didn’t linger after class. I’d never seen him talk to anyone. He showed up in the morning, went to class, left, and repeated the process at the end of the day. Did he have a locker? I hadn’t a clue.

  But I did know he was gorgeous.

  Dark hair that he liked to run a hand through and pull on so the ends were a sexy mess. Then there was the square jawline. It always looked as if he’d done just a quick buzz over his jaw for the whiskers, and he let it go until the night again. And his face, nice and hella smoldering.

  Seriously. It wasn’t fair.

  But he had the clearest blue eyes, and that’s what gave him away. He didn’t know I knew where he got those blue eyes, and that little fact kept my mouth shut. I didn’t say one word about the secret I did know about Christopher Raith, besides his name and how him just waiting on his motorcycle gave off this intense pulse in the air.

  He was sizzling.

  He was also Red Demons royalty.

  Red Demons. The fast-growing motorcycle club that was starting to take over not just California, but Nevada, New Mexico, Colorado, and all the way north from Montana to the south where rumors were circulating they were going to start moving into Texas.

  Yes. This gossip I did listen to, mostly because my uncle was a Red Demon, and he’d stayed with my mom and me earlier in the year for a month. He hadn’t said why he was here, but him showing up, then Christopher Raith popping up in class the next day seemed too much of a coincidence to not be connected.

  My uncle never said a word, and I knew he wouldn’t. He just grunted he was there on ‘MC business’ and that’s all we got.

  The other thing I knew was that Christopher knew I knew who he was.

  But we’d never spoken a word to each other.

  I was almost to my bike when he turned his engine off.

  He stood up, and I stopped about ten feet back.

  I guess the whole ‘no talking’ thing was about to end.

  3

  Kess

  He sat back down on his bike, stretching his legs out. One hand rested on his thigh and the other on his handlebar. He was still wearing his helmet. H e sat there, staring at me.

  I stood there, staring back.

  Neither said a word.

  We were in a standoff, but yet we were speaking a whole lot. I was feeling the vibes in the air. They were strong, rippling back and forth between us, and my whole body was heated from the inside out. I felt feverish, and the strength it was taking to not break was a strain. A big strain.

  I was going to break soon.

  But, man. He had a helmet. That wasn’t fair.

  Finally, I flicked my eyes up. “Can I see your helmet?”

  He stalled. I was guess that’s not what he expected from me, but he reached up and took it off.

  Goooood, those eyes. That face. That mouth.

  I didn’t have words. No guy who was MC royalty should be as pretty as him. A model, yes. Actor, yes. Even a punk preppy, and I had to admit, some of those looked decent. They weren’t my cup of tea, but a girl could appreciate a nice face, nice physique, and what was promised to be a six-pack underneath a certain shirt.

  My mouth was dry just wondering what was underneath his faded and ripped jeans, his riding boots, and his grey shirt shredded on the side. I saw it because his leather jacket was unzipped and hanging to the side.

  He handed the helmet over, his face stony.

  I took it, making sure our hands did not touch, and he noticed. The corner of his mouth lifted for a split second, then he went back to being a wall.

  I didn’t wait. I gathered my hair up and pulled the helmet down. When it was in place, I stood back, crossed my arms over my chest, and cocked my head to the side. Then I waited.

  He frowned, his own head tilting to the side. “You trying to be funny?”

  “Just wondering what it’s like on this side of the helmet.”

  His eyes narrowed, those gorgeous blues, but he didn’t say anything further.

  Neither did I. That was the whole point of this.

  After another few seconds, he shook his head slowly. “What are you doing?”

  Maybe the gig was up, and it hadn’t put him on edge. That’d been the hope.

  I sighed, taking the helmet off, but I didn’t hand it over. I held it, resting it just on the back of my thigh, and I nodded at his bike. “Since when do you guys wear these, anyway? I thought you needed open-face helmets?”

  He leaned forward, plucking the helmet away from me, and moved back. “Easier for cameras not to spot me.”

  I looked at his bike’s plate, but it was smudged over.

  Who was this guy?

  Fine. I’d try a different tactic, and what the tactic was for, I couldn’t answer. I was going with it, feeling my way because there was a weird ebb and flow between him and me.

  He probably wasn’t here for me. Right?

  I don’t know.

  He might’ve needed to hand something in, or... I had no clue, but my gut was telling me he was here for me. That he knew I had detention today. That he knew the exact time I’d be let out, and I’d even be let out early.

  He had it all worked out to be here when I would be walking to my bike.

  “What do you want?”

  He didn’t wait a beat. “You know me.”

  “Your name is Christopher Raith.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You know where I come from.”

  Now I shifted, rolling to the back of my heels. “I know whose blue eyes you inherited yours from, yes.”

  One nod from him. “He’s my uncle.”

  His uncle was the president of the entire Red Demons MC. Max Raith.

  Royalty.

  I noted, “And you know my uncle.”

  A second nod. “I do.”

  Mine was not. He was a member, but I knew he was important to the original charter.

  So I knew his uncle.

  He knew my uncle.

  We knew each other, but we didn’t know each other, and still standing, staring, I knew we both wanted to know each other.

  4

  Christopher

  Kess Foster.

  They never told me how gorgeous she was going to be, but she was. My dick had been hard for an entire year straight, and she was standing here, done with high school, and she never had a clue she’d been in danger.

  ‘Club business.’ That’s what her uncle said he told her.

  Club business, my ass. She had a right to know her life had been threatened and that she was the reason I was even here. All year. Her uncle was at the house until I got situated. We had a security system put in place, and I holed up close in the house next door. She never knew. Ever. When I rode my bike up, I went into the backyard. I asked Heckler, her uncle, if she wondered about the bike sounds. His response was she didn’t. There were other bikes riding up and down their street but none of them were MC bikers.

  I guess it worked.

  As for the other reason I was here, I’d been the one chosen. A year older than her, I’d already graduated, and Max had been adamant I get my degree. Then this situation came up where there’d been rumors of someone trying to push in on a territory that wasn’t quite ours, but we also didn’t want to let anyone else in. Mix that with a few whispers that came down the pipeline one of ours had a niece in Roussou, California and how pretty her head might be as a trophy.

  Max hadn’t waited.

  I got the order to head out immediately.

  Word was worked out with local law enforcement. There were other players in town, a whole ‘crew’ system in the school so I hadn’t needed to be around during the day. Not much. Not until the last semester. Things got dicey, and she had no clue, so I started hanging out a bit more than she realized.

  But I was there, watching, and feeling like a creeper.

  The threat was recently eliminated, so I got the call to head back to headquarters.

  I waited, wanting to actually talk to her for once.

  And I was back to this: Kess Foster. Beautiful and she was the kind that didn’t know it. And what was more, she wasn’t a common beauty; she was unique. Her hair was so blonde, it was almost white. It looked like she dyed it with some dark roots, but that was just her hair.

  Heckler had the same hair, and it was weird.

  If we were told that aliens came down and had been walking among us, I would’ve instantly thought Heckler and Kess were from them. That was in addition to their eyes. I had clear blue eyes. I knew this, and it was something I got a fuck-ton of attention from. They were my weapon. I could yield them how I wanted, but in her school, I kept my head down and my mouth shut. No one messed with me, but that was a testament to the school itself. The dynamics had been interesting here.

  But my eyes weren’t like hers.

  Hers were an ice blue. Almost gray, almost just white too. I’d never seen eyes like hers.

  One woman giggled over Heckler, saying his eyes were like a vanilla chai latte with a dash of light blue in them. Eerie.

  But Kess didn’t know.

  She’d been in a crew, and those five guys had been protective of her. That was, until a storm went down and their crew disbanded. I watched it happen.

  I watched as each guy left and were now already doing their own thing. One guy remained, but he’d shunned her, and I had no idea why.

  She was alone, and she just graduated high school.

  She shouldn’t be alone.

  This was the summer she was supposed to have a last hoorah with her friends before heading to college. That was one thing I had been proud of, because she was smart. She was going to school. Some in our life, my life, didn’t do academic institutions. They were looked at as weapons for the ‘other’ way of life.

  Max didn’t view them that way, and I was glad that Heckler said his niece didn’t either.

  She was going to a fancy sounding school.

  I was happy. I was proud.

  She was smart. She was self-reliant. She wasn’t a big fighter, but if push came to shove, she’d pick up a gun. She had good aim. I’d watched her at the gun range.

 

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