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

We had a way things worked around here for a long time. Dad went out and took care of club business whenever he needed to and partied with my uncles whenever he felt like it. He spent enough time at home, and he was always good about making sure that I knew I mattered. But he’s never been much of a homebody, and as far back as I can remember, he’s never been a one-woman man either.


Not that he couldn’t be. It’s just not who he has been. And Holly has obviously changed that. I love having him around more, and I love even more that he’s happy. But even better than that, I actually like her, and that’s saying a lot. Because as much as my dad thinks that nobody’s good enough for his little girl, his little girl thinks that just about nobody is good enough for her dad.

“Well, you two kids have fun. I’m gonna go upstairs and do something that’s not watching you guys make out like teenagers.” I stand from the couch and cross the room. At the foot of the stairs, I turn back and realize they haven’t even paid attention to the fact that I’ve gotten up. I’d like to think they heard me, but Dad is still bent over the couch trying to inhale Holly. And that’s when I realize that, despite the thinking I’m mature for my age, I’m still not mature enough to have to watch my dad suck face with my school secretary. Even if I do adore her.

I trudge up the stairs to my room and close the door behind me, trying to forget that they’ve christened the entire house like a couple of teenagers.

I’ve been kind of bored lately because, unfortunately Holly has ratted me out to Dad about every time I’ve been absent from class this semester. I agreed to be on my best behavior, and part of that means actually getting my butt to class, but girl code takes precedence over relationship code. Whatever that is anyway. So now I’m grounded. That means staying in the house with the horny twosome, with little else to do. Thankfully my grounding is coming to an end in a few days, and it can’t come soon enough. I’m just grateful there’s an entire floor between my room and Dad’s room. Tracie, the bestest best friend ever, says she can hear her mom and her new boyfriend going at it at least twice a week. And Tracie’s really screwed in the head, so I’m thinking that having an entire floor between my room and my dad’s room is going to save him on some serious therapy bills for me in the future.

I pull up the legs of my sweatpants, kick off my socks, and throw myself into bed. I grab my cell phone and wonder if anybody called while I was downstairs. As it turns out, my friends have been kind of silent ever since I got put on restriction. But that text—that one from Daniel—is still there.

But an idea comes to me. I can call Jeremy. I think on it for just a minute before I decide not to call him. I’m at home and Dad’s here, so I can’t really use the whole “I’m in danger” excuse to get him here or talk to me. Plus, if Dad found out what I’d done, he would kick my ass. And not in the way where his eyebrows wrinkle and he gets all grouchy and tells me that I’m going to see the end of kingdom come if I ever do it again, because that’s a total joke. No, Dad would get the kind of pissed at me where he calls Aunt Ruby and she kicks me in the ass. She’s not the tallest woman I know, but her boot definitely reaches my behind.

So if I can’t call Jeremy, I can probably send him a text. That’s less intrusive, right? I don’t know if I should. I mean, either he’s going to respond back and talk to me for a little bit because he wants to, because maybe he likes me as much as I like him, or he will respond back because my dad is the club’s sergeant at arms. That may not mean a whole hell of a lot to the other guys I’d be interested in, but it means the world to Jeremy. As a prospect for my dad’s club, Jeremy’s ass, testicles, and every other part of him belong to Forsaken. And Dad never lets him forget it.

HEY, I text. I shouldn’t be texting him considering he ignored me earlier.

God, that was stupid. What a lame message. It’s not like I’ve never talked to a boy before. I don’t even know why I’m getting so flustered over trying to send him a text message. I’ve sent guys text messages before. I’m no chicken. I’ve even sent Jeremy text messages before. But this feels different. I’m texting with a purpose. Plus, I am a total feminist. I can take the lead. I can ask guys out. There is nothing wrong with being a strong, independent woman.

But what if he does think I’m stupid?

He thinks I’m stupid.

As time passes, I become convinced he’s going to forever ignore me and think I’m a dumb little girl. Well, maybe I should give up on him and put on my big girl panties and redirect my attention to Daniel.

After five minutes, I decide he’s out with another girl. Maybe she’s giving him a hickey right now. Because unfortunately I’ve seen him sporting them before, so I know he’s gotten further than I have. And even worse, maybe he’s with a Lost Girl at the clubhouse getting his dick sucked. Because as much as Dad doesn’t want me to know that that stuff happens there, people talk and I’m not a baby. Besides, what kind of stories did he think Ryan was going to share with me when he used to babysit?

My phone chimes, half frightening me. I grab it and check the screen.