Where Souls Spoil (Bayonet Scars Series, Volume I) (Bayonet Scars #1-4.5)

But right now I can’t bring myself to really care what I look like. My face is void of makeup, which isn’t so awful. But I feel like I’ve been put through the ringer, and that makes the not looking good twice as bad. No wonder I look like a kid to Ian. I’m half his size, covered in a baggy hoodie, and without makeup.

I leave the bathroom and walk toward Ruby, who is curled into the older blond-haired man’s side. Jim, I think his name is. If I have it straight, Jim is Ruby’s husband and Ryan’s father. Ian is Ruby’s son, and that makes him my cousin. So then Ryan is my step-cousin. I stop where I am and watch as a big guy with a few extra pounds and a jovial smile on his face elbows Ryan in the middle of his back. Ryan moves forward a foot before turning around quickly, his fist flying through the air at the man who’s elbowed him. Ryan’s fist connects with his jaw and an all-out fight begins. I take a few more steps back. In my father’s world these kinds of fights are rare. Men don’t engage in physical contact unless they’re going to make a point. Violence is never fun, my father says. It is sometimes necessary, but never fun.

Ruby eyes me and carefully sidesteps the brawl. Nobody has moved to break it up yet, and now both men are in the dirt, the man laughing while he has Ryan in a headlock. “It’s okay, Alex. They do this shit all the time,” Ruby says. I nod in understanding, but I don’t really understand, so it’s a lie.

“But why?” I say. In the background I can hear Jim telling them to knock it off. We have to get back on the road.

“They’re men,” she says with a shrug. She walks past me, giving my shoulder a pat, and then steps into the restroom. The firm thud of the closing door and the click of the lock sets me on edge. I slowly turn around and eye the scene before me.

The men, at least twenty in number, stand around in a loose circle. Jim is speaking. His shoulder-length hair is tucked behind his ears. In the early morning light it looks grayer than I previously thought. His face shows his age, lined with years of sun exposure from long rides, I’m willing to guess. He has his arms crossed over his chest.

“Straight through to Nevada, boys,” he says. I glance around the crowd. They’re all watching Jim intently. Some of the men look pissed off, like they’ve heard this before. Others, though smoking or chewing, have their eyes on him. Everyone is looking at Jim—with one exception.

Ryan’s eyes are on me.

I flinch under the intensity of his gaze. His hands are on his hips, head tilted slightly to the side, feet shoulder-width apart, his face carefully blank. But his eyes bore into mine. I search his face for a sign of—well, anything. But nothing comes to me. I can’t figure out what he’s doing. Then I realize that he’s sizing me up. This whole thing is for me. Aunt Ruby promised Aunt Gloria that she’d keep me safe, and this is her keeping me safe. I can feel my eyes grow wide as I consider the twenty or so men before me. Leather-clad, dirty, and tired...

They’ve been riding for days, I think. California is an awfully long way from New York. They didn’t fly, which would take but a few hours. No. They rode on their bikes and some even in the van. For days, I’d venture to guess. I suddenly feel compelled to express my appreciation. No matter how awful this is for me, that’s the thing—this is for me. Ryan doesn’t need to be here, saving my big mouth. Jim doesn’t need to be here. Maybe Ruby does by way of some familial obligation, but the rest of them don’t. But they’re here.

Before I can think better of it, I mouth, “Thank you,” to Ryan. He blinks, but keeps the mask on his face. No polite “you’re welcome” and no acknowledgement, blinking aside, that I’ve extended this olive branch. Why I want to extend it to him of all people, I’m not entirely sure. I just know that I’m going to try to make this work. And he just keeps watching me.

Hearing shuffling behind me, I turn as Ruby’s elbow lands softly on my shoulder, letting me feel her weight. “He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

I feel the heat on my cheeks, and I break eye contact with Ryan. I can feel his eyes for only a moment more before he turns his attention elsewhere. The ground beneath my feet is nothing but dirt interspersed with bits of mud here and there. I try to imagine drowning in the small pool of mud.

“I know you were watching him, Alexandra,” she says. I spin and look her, going for my best innocent look. It’s the one even my father falls for. She rights herself, hands on her hips.

“Who?” I say. She chuckles lightly and shakes her head, then her face grows serious.