Free Satan's Revenge by Celia Loren Page A

feel completely off balance.
    “Violet followed me around today, unless it was just complete coincidence that I saw her at the same bar as me,” Marcus says, turning to Drifter.
    “You followed him?” Drifter says, turning to me with a frown.
    “I just…when I came home, I saw him leaving, so I drove after him. I was curious about where he was getting all this money, and the hospital said he never dropped off his application.” God, I sound like a child ratting someone out. I rush ahead. “So I followed him to this bar, I don’t know what it’s called, Double Eights or something, and saw him playing cards.”
    I see a small smile cross Marcus’s face as Drifter stares at me, incredulous.
    “Violet, why would you do that?”
    “I, I was worried…”
    “I just like to play cards there sometimes. It’s just for fun,” Marcus adds earnestly. I almost believe him.
    “See? God, I can’t believe you tailed my brother, Violet! Fuck!” he swears, and stands up. “I asked you to trust me, and this is what you do?” he continues, turning to glare at me.
    I shrink against the couch pillows. I’m not used to Drifter speaking to me this way, especially not in front of someone else.
    “That’s not…”
    “That’s not what?!” he says angrily.
    “That’s not the part I…there was something else.” I take a deep breath as he looks at me expectantly. “I saw Ace.”
    “Ace,” Drifter repeats flatly.
    “Yes, I saw him in the back room, with the card players,” I confirm, trying to put some conviction behind my voice.
    Drifter runs his hands through his hair in frustration.
    “Violet, Ace is dead. You know that.”
    “No! I saw him!” my voice breaks with emotion. “He looked different, I mean, he’s a skinhead now, his head is shaved…”
    “He’s a skinhead?” Drifter asks, looking confused, but also exhausted. Exhausted of me, I realize.
    “Yes! It was a skinhead bar!” my voice rises in frustration.
    “Violet, do you realize…I mean, you have to know how you sound right now,” Drifter says gently, which only pisses me off more.
    “Don’t talk to me like I’m some kind of crazy person!” I spit out. “I know what I saw!”
    “I’m talking to you like that because that’s how you’re acting!” Drifter spits out, trying to contain his anger. “I know you’ve had issues ever since…Rooster, and everything that happened, but trying to come between me and Marcus is just fucked up!”
    “That’s not what I’m trying…you needed to know about Ace, the Sons…” I stammer, stung by his accusation.
    “Don’t try to make this about the Sons! What you did was fucking ridiculous, so don’t try to justify it!”
    “But he…”
    “I will hear nothing else said against Marcus, you got it? Nothing. We’re done here.”
    “You’re being unfair!” I counter, my voice rising in frustration.
    “I said that we’re done talking , so that means that we’re done fucking talking !” he yells back and storms off toward the front door. I bite my lip, trying not to cry. “Marcus, let’s go to the clubhouse,” he calls back.
    “Yep,” Marcus replies. I glance at him, and see a glint of triumph in his eyes that is quickly replaced with a frown at me as he stands and follows Drifter out the door.
    As the door slams behind them, I release a low cry. I hear the dogs whine, and look into the dining room to see them hiding underneath the table. I sink down onto the couch and clasp my knees to my chest.
    It’s amazing, how quickly everything can fall apart.
     

Chapter Nine

    Drifter
    15 years ago
     
     
    I don’t run into Derek for a couple more days, but then he walks into shop class and beelines for a seat across from me. The rest of the guys file in and sit down, but Derek just stares at me. I try to concentrate on the demonstration that Mr. Laurits is beginning on the power sander. I can see his beady little eyes boring into me out of the corner of my vision, but will myself to