Free Gypsy Brothers: The Complete Series by Lili St Germain Page B

too-long jeans, tiptoeing around the wettest part of the concrete – the place where Michael Trevine bled out.
    “Here.” He points to a worn, brown leather chair that wasn’t there yesterday. “Sit here. I’ll grab you something to eat. I can hear your frigging stomach growling from here.”
    I sink into the chair, thankful for the weight off my legs. I grip the leather armrests and time passes, how much I’m not sure. The only point of reference I have is the sun, which has moved from overhead to in front of me. I estimate that it’s about five in the afternoon when a thought suddenly slams into my brain like a freight train.
    Elliot.
    Shit. I need to call him. I need to go to him. Right fucking now . The urge to flee this place has me itching all over. I want to get out. I want to get out. Iwanttogetout .
    Jase returns after a while, balancing a plate of what looks like some kind of meat casserole with mashed potato. It smells like my childhood.
    Fuck. I can’t do this.
    “Carol was serving dinner to the boys,” he says, handing me the plate and a fork. I take the plate, my hunger beating the emotions I feel at the prospect of my mother cooking this meal for the Ross brothers a few rooms away while I was giving my father’s murderer a blow job. I demolish the plate in record time and briefly consider licking it clean. If I were alone, I definitely would.
    I set the plate down at my feet and stare ahead blankly.
    “Are you okay?” Jase asks me, his voice tinged with fear.
    “No,” I reply.
    “I told you, my dad can get pretty obsessed sometimes. Just … be careful what you say to him, okay?”
    I nod vacantly, chewing on my lip.
    “I’m sorry for what happened. Really. My brothers are just like him. They’re animals sometimes.”
    I know that.
    “Is there anything I can … do for you? Get for you?”
    I don’t answer him.
    “Samantha?”
    I tear my gaze from the floor to meet his pinched eyes. “I want to get out of here,” I say to him. “Just for a few hours. Just to cool off. Do you think you can help me with that?”
    I have to get to Elliot before he comes looking for me here. They will kill him if he turns up, I am sure of it.
    Jase nods, seemingly relieved that I have broken out of my stupor to respond to him.
    “Yeah,” he says, patting my closed fist with his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
    When I don’t move, he waves his hand in front of my face. “Earth to Samantha?”
    The gentle way he says Samantha makes my heart leap a little.
    “How come you don’t call me Sammi?” I ask him as he offers his hand and pulls me up to my feet.
    He furrows his eyebrows. “I don’t know. Samantha is classy. It suits you better.”
    “Classy,” I repeat. “Pfft. I don’t know where you got that idea from.”
    He looks at me with a serious look on his face, still frowning. “What?” I say.
    He shrugs. “You don’t really belong here, in a place like this. I thought that from the minute I saw you.”
    You have no idea how wrong you are.
    “I grew up in a place just like this,” I reply. “It’s just like home.”
    He doesn’t answer me, but his eyes are full of questions. Full of worry. Full of the past.
    “Come on,” I say. “Let’s get out of here before your father wakes up.”

FOURTEEN
    I follow Jase down the stairs and through the kitchen. I don’t look into the servery – the last thing I want to see is my mother when I’m leaving, and I don’t know if I’m coming back.
    I am scared.
    I forgot how crazy Dornan Ross was.
    And I can’t get the image of that poor kid’s blood and brain matter out of my mind.
    When Jase turns left at the hallway, I hesitate.
    “Come on,” he says. “My bike’s this way.”
    “Oh,” I say. “I thought we’d just go in a car or something.”
    He smirks and looks me up and down. “We’re in a biker club, Samantha , not a goddamn minivan club.”
    “I don’t have a helmet. Or a jacket.” I look down at my bare feet. “Or