Between Brothers

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Tainted Saints

Kennedy

“He’d eat the ass out of a skunk if it smiled at him right.

Hell, he might even give it a little tickle while he performs if it hits the right octave when it giggles.

” Rigs grumped, her painted pout dipping down with disdain before she puffed a long strand of her fine, blonde hair away from her face and finally tore her gaze from Kingston Crowe.

I heard her whining, but I wasn’t fully paying attention.

The bass was flooding through the floorboards, drowning out most of the room until everything but her annoying voice sounded like a dull buzz.

I could feel the song thundering in my chest, but it wasn’t the music that had distracted me.

I’d been struck by a thick wall of cologne.

The only thing I could compare it to was when I walked past that one store at the mall with the ‘college boy’ shorts and tropical decorations.

All I could taste was ‘fuck boy,’ no matter how hard I scraped my tongue against my upper teeth and wallowed spit in my mouth.

My gaze narrowed on the tall, lanky source of the offending smell and I glared as I clapped a hand over my mouth.

Royal Crowe.

It wasn’t a surprise to see him, considering it was his welcome home bash, the Tainted Saints were throwing. He’d been off at college earning an art degree. Though, if you asked his father, the club VP, he’d tell you it took the fool four years to get a mechanic’s certificate.

The hand at my mouth didn’t help anything, a dull ache was starting at the back of my head.

“What the fuck? Did he bathe in it?” I hissed under my breath, as Royal’s brother, Kingston moved in beside him.

“What are you staring at, Kennedy?” Rigs’s tone turned sharp, and those big, blue eyes that all the guys went crazy over turned into jealous slits.

Ugh.

As if anyone were ever given a chance to forget her obsession with Kingston.

Was she serious right now?

“Keep your eyes to yourself,” she hissed.

Did this bar fly really think I was eyeing her dream guy?

I coughed and placed a hand on her shoulder, shoving her back as she tried to step into my space for further confrontation.

Her intimidating anything was a comical notion. She was barely five foot two and maybe a hundred and ten pounds if she was packing a purse. She was pretty, and petite, but her mood was like a coin being flipped. You might get sunshine, or you might get soured milk.

“I don’t have time for drama with any of you Soiled Sweethearts,” I sneered, as I slipped past Nala and dipped into the kitchen.

“‘Soiled Swe—' You know that’s now what we’re called! We’re Tainted Sweethearts…” Rigs trailed off, saving her breath as she trotted after me. Her heels clicked a desperate tune across the tiled kitchen floor as she tried to keep up with my long-legged pace.

If I hit another one of the over-eager groupies that flocked around my dad’s club, I’d never hear the end of it. From him, or the guys. So, I rolled my eyes and kept moving. When I focused again, Preach Willis was coming in the backdoor of the Tavern.

“Your nephew just arrived.” I called, causing him to turn his head toward me, though his hand was still extended across the door he’d been holding open. His eyes widened with enough alarm to make me check the wall for shadows. Rigs’s elbow was high and her head canted.

It was obvious she was removing her earrings, but I really didn’t expect her to leap up onto my back when I slowed to confront her. Though she was small, her weight slammed into me awkwardly, sending us both tumbling into the opposite wall.

The shock of her boldness bled into amusement, and I latched onto the arm she hooked over my shoulder and brought it up to my mouth, where I sank my teeth as deeply as I could.

While she wailed, I jerked forward and slammed us both into the wall again, aiming the back of my dome for her painted face.

I wasn’t raised to be a barmaid or a Tainted Sweetheart. I grew up with a club enforcer for a brother and the president as a father.

What the fuck was she thinking?

As quickly as the thought registered in my head, it flew out of my mouth.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked between rounds of laughter, once Preach hauled me off of her.

“You might be beautiful, but, bitch, at the end of the day, you’re as simple as they come, aren’t ya?” I cackled.

I spat at the floor beside her just as a tattooed arm hooked my shoulder and hefted me away from her. I could tell by the vibrant blue-and-green ink that sprawled up his arm, that it was my brother, Paxton.

I let him wrangle me out the back door.

“Can’t take you nowhere. Look at ya.” He laughed, as he held me in something between a huddle and a bear hug for a moment.

“Let go of me, I’m fine. I didn’t even fucking hit her.” I laughed, shoving at him.

He twisted his neck and stared back toward the building.

“Didn’t hit her? There’s blood all over the goddamn hallway.” He grinned, as he hesitantly let me get free.

“I didn’t hit her. She hopped on me like a mad grasshopper and I helped her off, that’s all.” I sniffed and shrugged.

Paxton cleared his throat, and I followed his gaze to the building. Our father’s sturdy frame stood glaring back at us from the entryway. His worn vest was pinned beneath his massive, folded arms, but there was no mistaking the president’s patch on his chest.

His attempts to appear displeased were mostly for the Sweetheart's benefit and we all three knew it.

“I didn’t fucking do anything,” I playfully insisted, holding my hands out in front of me while Paxton sniffed and fought a smile.

Dad’s long, slow snort of disbelief made me outright laugh.

“Oh, my God. I didn’t. That little dumbass jumped on me like she lost what little mind she had to begin with, okay? ”

Dad’s brow hitched and he wet his lips like he was about to say something profound. I might have let him, if I hadn’t saw Rigs attending her bloodied nose behind him.

I couldn’t help but double down.

“I can’t help you, ol’ man. You picked these tools, not me.”

He gave a half-smile and shook his head, shutting the door behind him as he ventured back inside.

“She really gets to you, huh?” Pax asked, his voice sobering a little.

The smile froze and soured on my face as I turned and slowly studied him for seriousness, “Not a single swamp donkey or piece of ass in that motherfucker exists in my world.”

“Don’t talk about the help like that.” Pax cackled, while trying his hardest to appear scandalized by my assessment of their sweethearts.

“‘Help!’” I damn near spat the word at him. “Do not attempt to label them as staff. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you assholes, Nala glazing the bar doesn’t count as waxing. I swear to fuck, someone should buy stock in Lysol around here.”

I shivered wholeheartedly and let the ‘yuck’ sound strangle in my throat.

His jaw dropped and his eyes lit up with amusement as he squeezed me and laughed as he rumbled, “I fucking love you.”

“I love you, too, even if you are a patched asshat like the rest of them,” I lovingly called after him just before he disappeared inside.

I sighed as the world around me grew peaceful for a moment. The breeze tickled my arms, making me aware that summer was almost over. I crossed my arms and let my head tip back, soaking up every minute of the quiet that I possibly could.

I really didn’t know how my mother had done it for so many years.

She wasn’t born into this world. Hell, she was never meant to stumble down this path.

It’s funny how life adds little plot twists, I supposed.

My mother came to Southern Illinois to get a veterinarian degree.

She was supposed to see snow accumulate for the first time, and attend classes.

Her plan was to return to her small Texas town with all of her accomplishments and a fresh degree.

Instead, she met my dad and had Paxton her Junior year.

I missed her so much, especially on nights like this. It was our thing, sitting outside on the porch in the evenings and chattering away. She was my rock.

The door to the tavern swung open with a nasty creak, letting the obnoxious music drift out and stir my thoughts back to the moment just as Roach spotted me and her eyes lit up.

She was a Sweetheart, but I didn’t hold it against her. She was the mildest of them, as best I could tell.

“Pretty night, ain’t it?” she gently offered, wrapping her arms around herself as she flashed a smile.

Her teeth were a little short from grinding, and she always looked just a little disheveled.

If her clothes weren’t wrinkled, her hair would be a mess.

And if her makeup was done, you could bet her shirt was stained, or buttoned crooked.

It wasn’t her fault, the girl rarely sat still. Her anxiety didn’t allow it.

“It will be, once the party is over.” I grinned.

She huffed and tossed her head like I’d told a tired joke, “You ever wish you’d taken the scholarship and avoided all the parties?”

I shifted my head before she even finished the question, “No. This is where I belong. It’s where I was meant to be. What the hell would Dad and Pax do without me?”

She bumped my arm with hers and stared at me, a faint smile resting on her lips.

“You’re good to them. They’re lucky to have you,” she whispered, her hand drifting to her back pocket.

She produced a pack of cigarettes and stuffed one between her lips.

“What about you?” I rarely asked after a Sweetheart’s business, I just assumed most had no real plans besides scoring some dick and racking up wild tales along the way.

“What about me?” She awkwardly giggled.

I swallowed, unsure if I should be real or fuck off and keep the conversation shallow.

“I mean… You came here when your brother got custody of you, but Danny’s gone now. You don’t ever think of going to college, or getting a job that might offer advancement, or benefits, or… Something more than this?”

“I’m too old for college, probably not smart enough anyhow.

That’s why the other jobs won't hire me. And… Well, uhm, I’m not a quick learner.

I wouldn’t even know where to go, or how to begin to explore other options really.

” Her shoulders started shrugging with each excuse she dropped until it looked like she was having some kind of fit, and I suddenly felt terrible for pressing.

I slung my arm around her shoulders and jerked her toward me, causing her eyes to round and her breath to hitch.

“You know there was a sign that hung up in a college I once toured, it said, ‘In life, you’re only too old when you stop trying to learn.’”

Her mouth snapped shut and she gave a weak smile.

“You’re not stupid, Rochelle. Don’t ever let anyone convince you that you are, or that you don’t have options.”

Her smile widened and she gave me a little squeeze, “I should–”

“Damn, they give lunch breaks here?” A voice spoke over her, startling both of us.

“N-no. I’m leaving.” Roach flung her cigarette and hurried toward the back door.

Anger flooded through me and I whipped toward her taunter, just as he reached for my arm.

“Oh,” the word stretched around Royal’s easy laughter, “it’s you.”

I glared at him so long and hard my eyes burned, but that didn’t budge his stupid smile.

“Thanks,” he arrogantly clipped, tipping his chin at me.

The confusion he induced with that one little word broke my composure and my face twisted with disgust. “For what?”

His blue eyes glistened with triumph, and the smile met them a little.

“I saw it when you looked at me just then. Welcome home, Roy.” His voice morphed into an imitation of eager femininity that left me curling my toes against the urge to kick him in the dick.

He knew he’d gotten under my skin, too, the cocky little shit winked and blew me a kiss that nearly unhinged my jaw.

“Yeah,” I numbly spat, shaking my head at just how deep the shit was getting. “You got me, big guy. My hidden weakness is the self-important twats that only feel good when they’re stepping on someone smaller. It just– “

I shrugged and trapped a sound in my throat, “That’s what does it for me, when they open their mouth and aren’t afraid to show the world just how little balls and brains they really have.”

I nodded enthusiastically, and turned, intent on leaving him with his jaw anchored to the pavement.