Revved Up Hearts: An MC Romance (Steel Knights Book 2) Read online

  But her wants and her desires had died a long, long time ago. Her hair was gray where it used to be a brilliant black, her skin was loose where it was once tight – and her bones held aches within them like forgotten stones in a somber graveyard. Apathy and exhaustion where once she held passion and energy.

  Slowly, the tears began to roll down her wrinkled cheeks. She fought hard to hold back the sobs. But they came anyway, they always did.

  Some time passed and the woman managed to compose herself, sitting upright in her bed – the golden rings on her ears swaying with her movement. She brought the screen on her phone to life and meticulously dialed a number.

  The line rang.

  Chapter Seven

  Jasmine

  There were only dead things here. Things that needed to be buried and locked away, forgotten and cast aside – Jasmine dreamed of a man-that-was-not-a-man drowning, looking at her with desperate, gleaming eyes, the tide swallowing him up whole like he were naught but a plaything. The hairs on her neck stiffly bristled and she felt the all-too-familiar stab of guilt, a storm of them, cutting through her gut and slashing at her chest; his love was missed too much, his warmth and open kindness gone for too long. The boat creaked like it was an old man on his last day, as the dark blue cradled it amongst the stormy tide.

  In life their guardian had not been nearly as drunk, but in her chamber of silver and emerald, she saw him as she felt he was. Wasted and aged 40 something years, but looking 55. The sun had just set and Jasmine had begged the man to take them back. He would only leer at her. He would only drink his countless bottles and toss them out into the water, the tides hitting them so hard now the water would splash up and into the deck. You don’t deserve forgiveness, she thought. The roaring ocean, impossibly dark in the black of night – lit only faintly by the hidden moon – consumed her.

  Out came a crow from Jasmine’s own mouth. It’s feathers frayed, it loosed a terrible sound. The bird writhed until it was finally able to part it’s prison of flesh, flying away with bloodied wings; she saw herself sink to her knees and a stream of tears fell from her green eyes. Her hair greyed and her skin wrinkled; Mother?

  A curtain of ink drew over the scene and then promptly parted, revealing an old man’s face in the darkness, his skin hard and wrinkled by time. He mouthed something, something that Jasmine could not make out.

  He slipped away into the eternal nothingness, a hollow sadness crawling up Jasmine as he did.

  She saw then, a man wrapped in chains, his skin red with lacerations and other various wounds – he walked towards her and vanished into dust.

  When Jasmine woke and the morning sun peeked through her window, she had never been so thankful as to be awake from such a slumber. She groaned and rolled out of bed, hitting her alarm before it could go off. Fetching her clothes; she went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, looked her face over, hopped in the shower and dried off. She put on her matching blue bra and panties; indigo blouse, black pants and white doctor’s coat – doing a light touch of her makeup and sauntered to her Rav4.

  I hope Gabriel’s alright, she thought. From the way that Luke talked about him, he seemed a truly genuine soul. Coma’s were a tricky thing, and though she did not want to be cynical – she could not help but hedge her bets on the worst case scenario. Jasmine began her morning commute to St.Augustine, dialing Alejandra’s number hoping to get through.

  Still nothing, I hope she’s not with those bangers – I’ll call her foster parent’s tonight.

  The drive was a slog as per usual, but nothing out of the ordinary.

  Jasmine only ever caught glimpses of her once frentor, Augustus Lark, and any words that they exchanged were quick and terse. Today, she could not find him at all – and wondered to herself if he might have… had issues, but Jasmine quickly banished the thought, not wanting to linger on something so dark.

  On her way to the first patient of her shift, she spied a woman off in the distance of the lobby; she stood out in a strange way with her grayed hair, but between her hat and the other people sitting next to her, Jasmine could not inspect her any more than this.

  Physically and mentally exhausting, the four words that summed up her work so easily and consistently. White female, nineteen years of age and suffering from a heroin overdose; having to restart her heart was like rolling the dice with God, every throw was just that – a toss in the dark. Sometimes though, in this line of work, you get lucky.

  The girl pulled through, and after a while, she stabilized. Jasmine let out a sigh of relief and quietly let her first year residents know what they did right and wrong; she noted the name of the young woman, her face pale and lips smeared with blue lipstick. Madeline Jane.

  Madeline’s eyes fluttered open lazily, and she looked to Jasmine, “W-where am I?” She asked, her voice tired and broken and drained of strength; Jasmine could see it written in the girl’s watery blue eyes: Show me kindness, show me beauty, show me truth.

  “You’re at the St. Augustine hospital,” Jasmine answered, stepping closer to the girl – she looked so weak, so frail, “you were legally dead for two minutes, Ms. Jane.” This whole ordeal painfully reminded her of Augustus Lark.

  The girl’s white face somehow turned a stronger shade of ivory, “Please,” she begged, equal parts shocked and ashamed, “please don’t tell my mom, if, if she finds out she’ll kill me, I know she will.”

  Jasmine dipped her head and then brought it back up, “I—“

  “Please!” Madeline begged, reaching a hand out to try and grab Jasmine, but falling short to her own weakness – a set of hot droplets rolling down her cheek.

  Looking around the room, Jasmine Giuseppe ordered that everybody take their leave until it was only the girl and her. “Look I’m sorry, but it’s likely that they’ve already been told about this. This is something that they need to hear.”

  The girl shook her head, she looked so scared, “If they find out I’m using again,” she said weakly, “they’ll disown me, I’ll be out on the streets.”

  “They wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “You don’t know them,” she replied, “I mean – this, this isn’t my first time.”

  “It needs to be your last,” Jasmine chided, “if you do this again, you won’t be so lucky.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Madeline shifted weakly in her gurney, “if I had any choice in the matter, I’d have quit a long time ago. Just, please,” she begged, “if they haven’t been told already, if you let this happen – I’m as good as dead.”

  Ethically, I need to tell her parents – maybe being thrown out is what she needs to reach rock bottom and turn things around. Can I live with that? If her support system fails her, she’ll have nothing. The girl pleaded again and Jasmine’s mine turned as she ruminated on her decision; there was a small chance the parents hadn’t been contacted yet. Either way, this girl is in way over her head. “Tell me what you’re going to do,” Jasmine narrowed her green eyes.

  The girl did not understand.

  “What you’re going to do about your problem,” Jasmine clarified.

  “I’m gonna stay with friends for a couple of days,” she said, licking her dry lips, “maybe get in to AA – I just lost my job, so I mean – I can’t afford any smack.”

  Jasmine did not believe the girl, she believed Madeline wanted to believe the words coming out of her lips – but she was going down a dark and terrible road, one paved with many false beginnings. “I’ll do what I can,” Jasmine offered, a twinge of sadness blooming in her chest, “but I can’t make any promises.”

  Madeline’s face instantly changed to that of relief, thanking Jasmine profusely.

  “I know you don’t have any insurance, so we’ll be keeping you around for tonight – but you’ll be out in the morning. It’s going to be rough detoxing, “Jasmine explained,

  “I know,” Madeline said weakly, “I’ve been through it before,” she admitted. “Too many times,” the girl conti
nued, sheepishly, dipping her head and averting her pale blue eyes – Jasmine was admittedly captivated by the junkie’s beauty; her dark makeup, ivory skin, blue lips and piercings. Nineteen years of age and so gorgeous, but already throwing her potential away.

  She thought of Marcus then – and all the potential and love that was lost to the world then. Jasmine reminded that she needed to forgive herself, and to move on – that Luke promised he would be there for the day that she finally did.

  Giving the girl a sad smile, Jasmine offered quietly, “I’ll give you my phone number before you’re given the boot. Please, call me – or anyone if you need help.”

  Madeline nodded, but Jasmine could not gauge if she was sincere in her acceptance of said offer.

  ***

  When Jasmine’s phone buzzed in her pocket, she produced it and her heart lit up with joy at the sight of it being from Luke. The days were always terribly long at the hospital, and hearing from him helped it be worth it. Her jaw nearly dropped when she opened the text, holding the phone against her person and looking to make sure that none of her co-workers were around.

  Seeing that the coast was clear, she brought the screen back up and found herself woefully unable to take her eyes from Luke’s gorgeous picture – his long and hard shaft standing at the ready, his hand putting it on display just for her. The text itself read: Thinking about you, lover.

  Jasmine’s core became tight with need, and a subtle feeling bloomed against her clit – there was a great urge, to be touched – to have that spot be rubbed. She bit down on her lip, her eyes still lingering a moment longer – the ends of her nipples just beginning to stiffen with excitement. She wanted to ride him, she wanted to feel his hot seed deep inside of her and to have it roll down the walls of her sex.

  “Hey Jasmine,” a voice came from behind, causing Jasmine to jump in her own skin and nearly drop her phone; she whipped around to face one Kate West. “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she apologized.

  “It’s okay,” Jasmine laughed, trying to play it off, “I just thought I was alone,” things were dead in the parking garage, on this floor at least. “Getting ready to start your shift?” Jasmine asked.

  “Yep,” Kate chirped. She was a great woman, short black hair and a pretty face – much prettier than mine, Jasmine lamented. Twenty nine years of age and absolutely to die for cute with her big brown eyes; the two had become friends sometime after Luke and Jasmine kissed in what they referred to as their ‘own slice of paradise’. “You on your way out?”

  “Thankfully,” Jasmine let out a long breath, “anyway, I’ve got to run – good luck in there, Kate!”

  The woman smiled, “Thanks, drive safe.” Jasmine padded over to her car and started the engine. She sent a reply to Luke: Mmm, I can’t wait to go down on you again – tomorrow? She wanted to do so tonight, but knew that she had to find out what was going on with Alejandra.

  By the time she arrived at Alejandra’s place, she got a reply from Luke: Of course, but I’m letting you know now – within the next week I’ll be enacting our little ‘fantasy’ – be ready.

  The whole of Jasmine’s body felt fire-touched; was he serious? They’d talked about it a little bit in bed, discussing the terms and the safeword possibilities – but actually going through with it? It made her heart flutter in her chest, and her sex warm distractingly at the thought.

  I’m so lucky to have a guy like him: Can’t wait! Hope Gabriel is okay.

  Jasmine closed her car door and went up to the front door, the nightly air caressing her face – she still could not shake the dark, seductive images of her and Luke’s fantasy being played out; it made her clit ache and her nipples wake up.

  Get your head out of the gutter girl, this is no time for those thoughts.

  Knocking on the door, Jasmine waited a brief moment before Alejandra’s foster mother Mimi greeted her.

  “Oh, Jasmine,” the older lady said, her spindly black hair streaked with grey, “is Allie with you?”

  With me? “No? Is she still not around?”

  Mimi looked tired, kept up from long nights of worry and frustration; Jasmine was sure that raising a kid couldn’t be easy – just being a mentor was exhausting enough. “I’m afraid not,” the woman confessed, “I’ve— well, been…” she struggled to get it out, becoming sheepish now, “considering calling the police, but you know the crowd that she gets caught up with.”

  “You don’t want to see her arrested,” Jasmine discerned.

  The woman nodded, “Who would want that of their child?” Solid point.

  “When’s the last time you heard from her?” If you ever do, lord knows I don’t.

  “Three nights ago counting tonight.”

  “That’s not good,” Jasmine’s jaw clenched, “that damn girl – she’s never been gone this long without saying something.” She knew that it was hard to keep the girl in line, even despite Alejandra’s foster parents’ best efforts – once a wild girl, always a wild girl.

  “I hate to ask it of you,” Mimi started.

  “I’ll hunt her down,” Jasmine brushed back a few strands of her raven hair, “don’t worry. Go get some rest, I’ll call you when I’ve got her.”

  Mimi smiled, “Thank you dear, if you ever need anything you know my door is always open.”

  Jasmine smirked, “Let’s hope not,” she said, eliciting a small laugh from the woman before the two parted ways.

  ***

  After checking a couple of Alejandra’s usual haunts, she found her way to the local skating park. It was well illuminated at this hour, the bustle of young kids resounded throughout the night and the smell of weed permeated the air – that was preferred, of course, to the smell of the homeless; though Jasmine did not blame them for it. She offered some pocket change to them, asking if they’d seen Alejandra around and getting nothing in return. Reaching out to the skaters next, they were a real motley crew.

  They had tattoos and piercings and some had long hair, others looked much more clean and wore plenty of gear – some chose to just watch as the others attempted various tricks. Money had to be exchanged in the end, but Jasmine finally caught word that Alejandra was at one Carlos Luis’ place – straight from the mouth of a real Shaggy looking kid.

  Carlos, not a name that I’ve ever heard of, she thought. “Who is this guy?” Jasmine asked, “is he a banger?” Jasmine knew that Alejandra would run with those boys from time to time.

  Shaggy brushed his nose with his thumb, his brown beanie covering most of his discernibly frazzled and unruly light brown hair. “Yeah man,” the kid blinked lazily, his eyes a little red and graced with full dark circles, “like, he’s Big Bones’ nephew don’t you know?”

  “Not really,” Jasmine admitted, raising her brows but an inch. This kid is blazed out of his mind. If he still has anything left in there, at least.

  The kid laughed, looking over his shoulder at a couple of boys rolling around in the bowl. “Think eh, like The Godfather,” Shaggy explained, emphasizing the words with his hands, “el fuckin’ head honcho,” he went on, his eyes bugging out and the start of a smile forming on his face, “the big cheese-erino—“

  “Okay,” Jasmine put up a hand, “I think I get your similes.”

  Shaggy brought his head back a bit, confused, “No dude, no, it’s a metaphor. You get me?”

  “Let’s not squabble over spilled milk,” Jasmine figured she could say just about any line of nonsense at this point and the man would probably think it meant something profound; she had to bite back her urge to smile. “So Big Bones is the king of Los Demonios,” Jasmine said aloud, “and Carlos Luis is his nephew…what’s the boy’s address?”

  Shaggy nodded emphatically and then rubbed his fingers together, “Green baby, green,” he said before cracking his knuckles, making a loud series of pops.

  Jasmine sucked in a deep breath of air and then exhaled it; you know he could at least have the decency to look away from my chest when’s he’s a
sking me for money – my breasts aren’t some magical thing… Producing a twenty, she passed it along to Shaggy and in return he divulged the man’s address.

  Taking her leave, Jasmine moved her tired bones over to the Rav4 and flicked the engine to life, wanting nothing more than to get this whole ordeal over and done with – and to be in Luke’s arms.

  Some time passed and she passed through the decrepit hood; the rented out houses more like drug dens and proving grounds for whores than actual living quarters. Finding the house that Shaggy had informed her about, Jasmine parked on the overgrown lawn and went up to the porch, knocking on the front door. She noted that the lights were on, and that there were several old beaters of cars stationed outside; save for one that was a pristine el Camino, maybe from 73 – had to be worth quite a bit of money. Jasmine gave four solid knocks on the mullion of the door.

  The door opened and a young olive-toned man eyed Jasmine over, he looked twenty-two or so years of age and had his hair cut down to a fade; his face was hard and his eyes were dark, a bit of a moustache could be seen above his lip. “What-d-you want?” The man asked terse through a thick accent.

  Don’t like your tone, Jasmine thought. “I’m looking for my friend,” she started, trying to sound polite and non-threatening as possible – or as non-threatening as a woman of her stature could pose to a man of his…well, he clearly ate his Wheaties when he was a kid. “I was told she’s with Carlos? Name’s Alejandra.”

  The man’s dark eyes raked over Jasmine’s body, taking in every inch of her person – was there lust behind those eyes? Don’t get any ideas now, big boy. “Who told you that?”

  “Does it matter?”

  He repeated his question, his words pointed and sharp.

  “Some kid, a nobody – I would have gotten it from someone else; people talk, think you can shut them all up?”

  The man did not answer that, “She’s not here,” he said stiffly before beginning to shut the door.