Chapter Eight

KATRINA SAT ON THE step outside the Sprinter van. When she agreed to stay in the van, she hadn't figured in all the alone time she'd have while living in someone else's driveway.

Earlier, Cora—she wasn't going to call her Aunt Cora, considering they were two and a half years apart—had brought her a plate of food. Lasagna and garlic bread had hit the spot, and she'd finished every bite.

Cora also told her she could use the house while they were gone. But trespassing hadn't sat right with her.

The distant roar of the ocean kept her company. She closed her eyes. The soothing hum echoed the rhythm of her heart. She was closer to nature on the coast than in Beaverton.

She inhaled deeply. The briny aroma clung to her skin like a salty kiss from the ocean, making her feel alive despite the depression settling in her. She wanted to be a part of what Jagger was doing in Seaglass Cove and experience a new place with him, despite him wanting her away from the clubhouse.

Despite being away from him, away from Mama Sue, away from her dad, she found a sense of peace here that she couldn't explain.

She opened her eyes. Soon, she'd need to go down to the beach. She had a feeling the sheer amount of water rolling over the earth would be unforgettable.

As a child, she'd always wanted to go to the coast. But despite living less than three hours away, there was never anyone around to take her. At the time, her dad was in prison, Mama Sue was taking care of her, and the bikers weren't allowed to put her on the back of their motorcycles.

She pulled up Jagger's number on the phone, wanting to share how she was feeling with him but hesitated. Not once since her dad was released from prison had Jagger returned one of her calls.

April 5th was burned into her skin like a bad tattoo.

It was the day her dad got arrested and taken from her and, ironically, the date that he was released from prison, forcing Jagger to leave her. Her heart would only take so much breakage before it shriveled up and died.

Maybe that's why she often called Jagger and spoke to his voicemail in the off-chance he'd listen. She was trying to move forward, but it was impossible when all she wanted was him.

She connected the call and stared into the dark. The call went to voicemail.

She often wondered if he ever listened to what she had to say.

"It's me," she whispered. "I've been thinking about you."

She sighed, hating the way loneliness consumed her.

"I guess that's nothing new." She walked inside the van, shut the door, and stretched out on the pull-out bed. "I hoped seeing you, being with you, would make it easier, but it only makes it harder to think of returning home. I hate how I can't be with you. You're the only reason I came to Seaglass Cove." She looked around the van. "I don't even know what I'm doing here. It's hard to be so close to you. I could drive to the clubhouse and see you in five minutes, but I feel I'm far away."

The wind rocked the van.

"Cora and Wire are at the clubhouse, probably partying with you, and all I can think about is you being with another woman. It kills me to think of how many women you must've had in the past while I'm alone and wanting you." Blackness settled over her. "Whoever is with you tonight, I hope she dies."

Tears rolled into her hairline. "It seems like everyone has someone, and the only person I want doesn't want me back, and I hate you for that because I know you're lying. I know you better than anyone." Her voice broke, and she sniffed. "My life has never been easy, but you gave me easy...until you took that away from me."

She wheezed.

"Sometimes I wish I'd never met you, Jagger." Her chest squeezed tighter. "I hope that whoever you're with makes you miserable." She struggled to breathe. "You can lie to yourself and pretend the women mean something to you, but they'll never know you the way I do."

She blindly disconnected the call and dropped the phone to the floor of the van, giving in to the pain that tormented her.