Jade had always been a little too reckless. She was barely sixteen and yet she'd seen and done more than most eighty year-olds. Things that, as the youngest, her brothers and father used to try and protect her from, but their protecting and sheltering had only made her that much more eager to get into them. She'd been around drug addicts, bikers, and murderers her entire life, most of which were pretty intimidating just to be near. Even her sister, Harley had something about her that made it clear to people that she wasn't like the other girls in their world, useful only for one thing.
Somehow though, Jade had ended up the baby. The one stuck with the sweet face that made everyone seem to think she needed protecting, and it did nothing but piss her off. She hated when people sheltered her, and when they told her not to do something, it only made her want it that much more, even if she didn't entirely understand what she was getting herself into. She had a huge problem with people undermining her ability to handle herself.
Which is exactly how she'd ended up in an alleyway, unable so high she couldn't even remember her own name. She was always doing stupid shit to test the people around her, or to get back at them for pissing her off. She liked making people worry, pushing them around, driving them nuts. It was a hobby of hers to get into trouble and drive all her brothers utterly out of their minds with concern. She'd been doing it for years.
So when she'd stumbled home drunk at three in the morning only to be lectured for an hour and a half by her oldest brother Jaxon, Jade had taken it upon herself to show him she wasn't a fucking kid. She'd sat through his lecture quietly, nodding when she had to, promising not to do it again, letting him think he had won before heading upstairs to her room to "get some sleep".
Instead, she'd slipped out her window and across the backyard. At first, she'd thought about going to Eric's, but she knew that, when they found her missing, that was the first place they'd look. Besides, what was the fun of getting into trouble if she was going to play it safe and sneak off to her boyfriend's house? If she was going to cause trouble, she was going to do it her way. Reckless, crazy, and completely dangerous.
So, despite having money to call herself a cab or even take a bus, Jade had hitchhiked, hoping in the car with the first guy who'd stopped to pick her up. After that, the weekend blurred in and out. They'd gone quite a ways and spent two whole days partying. She was somewhere she couldn't even name, with people she didn't know, and pretty much no way of contacting home, but she didn't give a shit. She'd run away more than once before. The longest she'd ever stayed missing was two months, and when they finally found her, she was pretty much near death. Jaxon had put her under house arrest for a long time after that one.
Things over the weekend were hazy. She remembered sleeping with several different guys, and at one point, woke up in a trashed hotel room in nothing but her underwear, having no idea how she'd even gotten there. She'd grabbed a man's t-shirt off the floor, a bottle of whiskey, and her bag before slipping out the door and down the hall, head so dizzy she couldn't even walk straight.
She remembered the sun being so excruciatingly bright, she couldn't stand it, so after a few minutes of walking down the street, probably looking like some homeless meth-head, she'd ducked into an empty, dark alley and leaned against the wall, throwing up pretty much nothing but liquor, seeing as she hadn't eaten a single thing since she'd left.
After that, she'd slid to the ground, tied a tank top she found in her bag tightly around her arm and shot up, eyes so blurry she didn't even realize she'd taken way too much and passed out completely.
She'd felt someone nudging her at one point, and she'd woken, but couldn't get her eyes to focus enough to see who it was, and for all she knew it could be some psychopath, so she'd fumbled in her bag for a minute before weakly pulling her gun on the person. She was so high, she would have shot her own brother right in the face had she not passed out all over again.
The next time she woke, she could hear voices, and someone was holding her in their arms. This time, she was clearer than the last, so she could see a little better, but the sunlight was so fucking bright, she'd just given up and closed her eyes again until the person carried her inside and lay her down, pressing something cold on her forehead.
Jade rolled her head to the side and blinked her eyes a few times, letting her vision focus to see Marky, crouching there next to the couch and she smirked and reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder, using it to help her sit up, not caring in the least bit if the tried to baby her and make her lay down, fighting through the way her head spun and she nearly passed out again. "Fuck," she breathed, rubbing her temples as she glanced around the room, realizing she was in Eli's house. "You boys have a fun weekend? I sure as hell did." She breathed with a smirk, glancing at Eli and Marky, secretly glad Jaxon wasn't there, knowing he wouldn't even bother to wait until she was feeling a little bit better, he'd just start ripping into her.
Ben was no stranger to waking up in the morning having no idea what had happened the previous night. Usually, there was a girl in his bed, and he'd ask her, she'd tell him, he'd remember, and then he'd kick her out. Only, this time, there wasn't just one night missing from his memory. There were several. And he wasn't in his own bed.
He had no idea where the fuck he was or who the girl laying on his chest was, or how he'd gotten there, or even what day it was. All he knew was that it was sunny as fuck in the room and it was pissing him off. Ever since his fake death, his father hadn't let him anywhere near the Saints. He still did work for him, but nothing that involved the rival gang, just in case one of them recognized him, or, god forbid he run into Harley. He was banned from going anywhere he might run into a Saint.
But that didn't mean he didn't push the envelope. It had been three years, and he'd mostly managed to stay away, knowing it was better for Harley anyway if he wasn't a part of her life, but there were times when he just couldn't. Sometimes things got dark for him, he couldn't get her out of his head, and he felt like if he didn't see her, he'd die. So he'd blatanly break his father's rules.
He'd go places he was likely to run into a Saint, knowing that he was gambling with death. If the wrong one happened to walk through the door, like Jaxon or Eli, he knew they wouldn't be taking any chances of him coming back from the dead a second time. They wouldn't hesitate to shoot him dead on the spot.
However, he was always kind of hoping it would be Harley who walked through the door and saw him, and then the whole fucking lie would be over and he wouldn't have to hide from her anymore. Even if she didn't want him anymore, at the very least, he wouldn't have to live with the fact that, every day he was still alive, was another day he was lying to her. It had been three years and he still had yet to get over the whole fucking thing. His father had promised him he'd fix everything back when he'd faked his death, but nothing felt fixed, he just felt like a coward who ran from his problems and running was something he'd never done before.
Benji glanced down at the girl on his chest, trying to place a name with a face, but he couldn't she her face. She had long black hair that was covering it, so he moved her hair gently and she moaned softly and turned on her side, revealing a tattoo on the back of her shoulder that finally made things fall into place for him.
She was the property of a Saint. Whether she was a whore, a girlfriend, or a wife, he didn't know, but the familiar Saints tattoo on the back of her shoulder was indication enough. Meaning he'd broken down again and tried to "run into" Harley, and that realization helped him remember why. A couple nights ago had been the anniversary of their engagement. He'd been missing her so he'd gone to her father's bar, knowing it was almost suicide but not caring.
Luckily, most of the Saints had been gone, dealing with whatever crisis they were dealing with so, thankfully, Jaxon hadn't walked in. Still, that meant Harley hadn't either, so he'd gone home with the bartender, the girl who's bed he was currently in and hadn't left for the past two days.
"Oh fuck." He breathed and stood, throwing his clothes on as quickly as possible, hoping to get out the door, or maybe even window before she woke. He couldn't be there when her angry boyfriend, or owner, or husband, or whoever the fuck he was walked in the door or three years of keeping himself under their radar would be thrown out the window in an instant and he'd be taken to Jaxon and dead within the hour.