Chapter Three
Suck for a Buck
Kingston
Pacman followed my brother inside, leaving me to shake my head.
“I thought he was gonna make shit easy for us, there for a minute.” The ol’ man grunted, before snubbing his cigarette out on the rail and exhaling his disgust in a long slow cloud.
“‘Easy?’” I snorted and shook my head, “If it is his idea to cuff her, he isn’t going to be keen on letting you call the shots–”
“He isn’t gonna let me do shit. I’m his fuckin’ father and the VP of this club.
The sooner he understands that the better.
I’m just saying, Roy has a… a bent compass you might say, and it doesn’t always point in the same direction as everybody else’s around here. He has too much of his mother in him.”
“So, knock the bitch out of him already.” I shrugged, tired of hearing about my half-brother.
I had been watching him prance around in a patch he didn’t fully represent since before he’d left for college.
I’d stayed quiet about it, too, with everyone except our father.
But he knew as well as I did, Roy never had what it took to be a Tainted Saint.
He could straddle worlds and play dress up all he wanted to impress the campus crowd.
I knew who he was inside.
He’d been my little brother since the day our father mistakenly put him on a sidepiece, after all. Royal wasn’t just an embarrassment; he’d been a bitter source of contention between my parents for as long as I could remember.
Growing up, the only person whose vanity rivaled our father’s was my mother.
And Royal was the living, breathing proof that when it came to women, loyalty was a one-directional word in our world, even for the Queen of Tainted Sweethearts.
My father’s knuckles popped off my chest, and I snapped my gaze toward him.
“Hey, knock that shit off. Get out of your head and get that murderous look off your face. I told you already, you two are fuckin’ family.
Never mind the noise. Alright? Focus. This is as serious as it’s ever gonna get.
I need you boys. I need you both with me, if we’re gonna make this happen, you hear me? ”
The tension relaxed in my jaw, and I cleared my throat and jerked my chin up.
“I need a drink… How long before Kal calls this shit? Fuck,” I rumbled, turning for the door.
I saw the little nod of approval he gave just before his hand caught the back of my shoulder with a brief pat.
I had to force myself not to snort at the notion of him thinking I needed his validation.
That shit might be necessary for Mom, and the guys, or even for Royal, but my world didn’t tremble under his displeasure the way everyone else’s did.
The blast of noise that greeted me when I opened the door made me groan as I rolled my neck and made my way down the back hall.
I didn’t bother turning or weaving, I didn’t have to; people moved as I approached.
Men nodded, an occasional “Brother,” was randomly mumbled as I brushed past a few.
There were dozens of girls in the place tonight, but I still felt Rig’s attention anchor on me the minute I reached the bar.
She sauntered over and leaned so far across the counter I was given a glimpse of the cup of her bra, and a hint of color where her nipple threatened to poke out of it.
“Beer or bourbon?” she purred, drawing my gaze up to her pouty lips.
I snorted and was about to answer her when I saw Kennedy dash from the kitchen with a basket of cheese fries and a cold one.
“Whatever you get me, send her with it to the table.” I announced, with a nod toward Kennedy and a thump to the top of the bar.
Her face soured before the ol’ man could spit, “Make it a double, on the double.”
She said something under her breath, as we walked away, but it bled into the music and multitude of voices swirling around us.
A sharp crack of laughter sounded to my right as Sabrina Vittles stepped into the path just as the group parted for me.
Her skinny legs and narrow hips sashayed like she was putting on a million dollar show as she marched to Pacman and dramatically wrapped one arm around his neck.
He started sucking face with her like he’d found a true prize, and I nearly gagged on my own spit.
I heard barely restrained heaving from behind me and for a minute, I thought the ol’ man might do more than spit.
“All this ass, and that’s what he wants,” dad mumbled under his breath.
“Birdman! Birdman, it’s been a minute, right?” Cheyenne Rivers cheerfully rattled as we neared Tony “Bullet Boy” Nixx’s table.
Bullet all but flubbed his lips, flashing an apologetic grimace while his ol’ lady kept right on chirping, “I made some tumblers for the auction, and I was thinking– You know we could do a bake sale, or… or maybe Kate and the girls would be up for hosting a—”
“A suck for a buck. Right, we were just talking about that.” My mother appeared, the way she always did when something with tits spoke too long with her husband.
To be fair, in Kate’s world, too long was anything beyond a respectful head dip from a ten-foot distance.
The ol’ man’s head snapped toward her, but my mom merely shrugged before confidently continuing, “What? They said it would be cost-effective, and for a good cause! You’d only be out a couple of shirts and a bag of individually wrapped Life Savers.
Surely, we can find a marker laying around to scribble ‘Suck for a Buck’ on the front, you know… ”
She waved her hand in front of her chest and my father’s eyes narrowed so fast she let out a nervous giggle.
“Get me a beer before you wear them pretty lips out early,” he growled, sending her off with a swat.
She cheekily made her way toward the bar, and I noticed Kennedy picking up a tray full of bourbon and bottles. Kennedy wasn’t like the others; she didn’t pause to show my mother respect or shower her with false pleasantries like the Sweethearts did.
I snorted, realizing she hadn’t even blinked, or acknowledged Kate in the slightest as she shifted the tray and slipped past. She was good at moving through a crowd with that tray, almost making herself appear graceful.
I knew better.
That girl was an athlete. She had a temper, too, if people pulled the right strings.
“The fuck are you smiling at?” Bullet Boy teased.
I ignored him completely.
Watching her was my thing
It was our thing, actually, she just didn’t know it yet.
I’d been taking her in every evening for about three months now. I exhaled, almost sensing the shift in the room a breath before Rigs popped Kennedy on the ass like she meant to keep a piece of it.
Kennedy whirled to confront the source, just as Rig’s flashed her first-place smile at Bullet Boy and shifted to perch against my father.
The lack of proximity didn’t faze her. To be fair, I don’t even think she gave her brain time to register who the offender was; the tray left her hand before she possibly could have.
Two bottles and a handful of Bourbon shots found the back of her target, and we all suffered the indignant screech Rigs let out.
The entire room seemed to stop in its tracks. The music blasted, but there were no longer any voices competing with it.
The crisp click of my mother’s heels sounded over the floor growing sharper, and louder with every step. A low, familiar hum patiently vibrated from her as she drew near the wild-eyed Kennedy and joined her in staring down the now drenched Sweetheart.
“You know,” she swigged the ol’ man’s beer and licked her lips clean before passing it over, and looking directly at me, “I forgot to mention that I volunteered you for Thinking About the Leap.”
“The what?” My face momentarily pinched with the question.
“Thinking About the Leap, you know, the youth program the Kid’s Center does in September. They get the kids excited about High School next year. You should have seen Coach Cromby when I told him King Crowe himself would be there with a plus one.”
My mood and expression simultaneously flattened, “The fuck you did. I’m not volunteering for that shit.”
Rigs’s eyes turned to rage-filled, glistening sapphires and that ridiculous pout of hers tipped and quivered as the show moved on. Kennedy must have sensed it was over, too, because she dusted her hands on her jeans and snapped before turning, “Clean this shit up.”
“Yeah, King Crowe will be there, but only if Kennedy Kohl is, too.” I raised my voice, until even Nala back at the bar paused to see Kennedy’s reaction.
“What the hell are you lot on about?” Forty piped up, drifting toward the table.
“The Kid’s Center wanted some former hometown athletes to get the kids excited about High School sports and all that jazz.
I told them King would be there, and I think King has a great idea.
Kennedy was really something when she pitched.
The girls would be excited to hang out with her, especially the ones that are already in their youth softball and all of that. ”
Kennedy paused, looking back at us. The girl slowly sucked in a breath, like someone had asked her to hike Mt. Everest or something. I thought for sure she was going to roll her eyes and give Kate a dose of her pretty temper, but her gaze locked on Rigs and swung to Roy.
“What the fuck else are you going to do, the Suck for a Buck shit?” I snorted, waving a hand at Kate.
Kennedy hefted up one side of her mouth in a sickly-sweet smile.
“Sure. Tell Dad when he needs to schedule me off.” She shrugged and nodded a little longer than necessary.
Maybe she was as shocked by her answer as the rest of us.