Chapter Seven
More of the Same
Kennedy
I don’t know what I expected out of the Kids Center thing. The more I thought about it, I wasn’t sure I wanted anything. It hadn’t even been my idea to go…
Sure, I wanted to make Rigs’s blood boil at the thought of me spending the afternoon with her dream boo. But when I really searched my mind, I wasn’t sure I wanted anything beyond the ability to serve her that petty insult.
King Crowe might have owned the minds and hearts of a great many local girls, but to me; he was just more of the same.
His arrogance knew no bounds. Yeah, I had tolerated him well enough today, but I had to remember that he was best served in small doses.
Still, if I knew all that, why did I get so damned irritated by Rigs’s bullshit?
Why did I care that she was probably back there squirming on him, sinking her painted claws into whatever she could grab?
I swallowed a scream of frustration and walked a little faster toward my vehicle. The lot was empty as best I could tell, which is why that scream blasted free, when Royal Crowe placed his hand over mine, securing it to the doorhandle of my car.
“Don’t swing,” he blurted out, tipping his chin out of slapping distance.
“What is wrong with you?” I squinted at him, and huffed as I tried for the door handle once again.
“Nothing, I just don’t like seeing her get the best of you.” He sighed, lending his weight to the rear door.
I froze, my cheeks flooding with anger and embarrassment. Was I really that easy to read? God, I hoped not. I didn’t want anyone to know I’d wasted more than a passing moment worrying about any of the sweethearts.
How pathetic was I?
By the time I got the door open I was mad at the world; Rigs for being a bottom feeder, King Crowe for being an asshat capable of bringing out the worst in every woman in his vicinity…
And his brother, too, for being bastard enough to rub it all in my face.
But mostly, I was disgusted with myself.
Why the hell had I let an insect like Kate goad me into wasting my day alongside the abscess she called a son anyhow?
I reached for the door, intent on slamming it in Royal’s face. He wrapped his fingers around the frame, jerking it back before I could manage.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, leaning in close.
“Don’t need your apology,” I mumbled, giving a nod toward the door he was gripping and veering my head back to keep him out of my personal space.
“I know it’s scary, stepping out from behind those bullet-proof, ten-foot walls you’ve established and all, but shit… You can’t stay there behind them forever, you know. Shit ain’t healthy.”
My knuckles tightened around the steering wheel, and I anchored my gaze on his blubbering lips.
“Ya done?” I clipped, my tone suddenly carrying a bit of bite to it.
He’d gone too far. It was bad enough he was bragging about being able to see what no one else could in me. Did he really have to go all psychobabble and try to mind fuck me while he was at it?
“I– No. Kennedy, I just want to–” He instantly leaned back, though he didn’t let go of the doorframe, or move from between the car and the door.
“She don’t give a fuck what you want. Piss off,” King sang from behind him.
The sound of his voice stirred everything inside of me all over again. It sent my thoughts scattering with the wind, and I was hurled through more feelings than I could really name.
Part of me felt triumphant that he’d trotted after me.
As angry as I’d been five minutes ago, I was hanging on his every word now. And, as much as I hated that he had the ability to do that to me, I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face as I watched him back his brother off.
Elation. Anger. How the fuck did one patched-up bozo have the ability to make me feel so many different things at once?
Especially when I knew how shallow he really was.
“Careful, they’re going to think you’re making a claim,” I teased, while pointedly shifting my gaze to the rearview mirror.
Just as I’d hoped, Rigs was all but steaming on the sidewalk behind us. Her arms were crossed; her jaw was set and every few seconds she huffed hard enough for me to see her shoulders drop from where I sat.
“I’m bored,” she loudly whined as she all but stomped with each step she took toward us.
“Yeah, it’s about time we started seeing each other equally. I hear it’s better for communication and shit,” King snorted, holding out his hand.
I raised a brow and stared at his upturned palm for a moment, before begrudgingly placing my hand in his.
He lifted it up to his lips, forcing me to strain my arm or stand up. I chose the latter and stood eye to eye with him for a moment.
“Consider yourself claimed.” He winked, his fingers locking between mine as he led me toward his bike.
I let out a sigh that felt like I’d been holding it in for a century even as I rolled my eyes.
I was definitely not claimed by any of Birdman’s sons. Nor would I ever be, but it was fun playing along. Just for Rigs’s salty benefit, I let my hips sway subtly all the way to my two-wheeled chariot.
“It’s not exactly the kingdom’s finest horse, and you’re not prince charming. But I guess I’ll let you ride off with me. Just this once,” I teased, climbing on behind him.
He snorted, planted a hand on the outside of my thigh that shut me up and pulled off without another word, leaving me inwardly chanting, “He’s just more of the same. More of the same.”
But he wasn’t. I’d never felt the warmth radiating from any of the other Saints’ palms. Sure, my safety had been placed in all of their hands for years, but this was different.
I felt his protective grip not just on my knee where it rested. His touch was contagious and the warmth of it spread up my leg until I was more than aware of the span of his hips between them. When he gunned it at the light and the bike roared, I clung to him a little.
I’d ridden with my dad when I was smaller, but this wasn’t that. I was hyperaware of what I grabbed and how close I allowed my body to snug to his.
“Relax,” King called over the engine, ripping me out of my thoughts and obsessions.
“I am.”
“You’re stiffer than a corpse, darlin’.”
My face pinched. Whether it was from his pet names, or his comparison, I wasn’t sure.
“You got a lot of experience feeling up corpses, do ya?” I shouted at him, but my voice drowned out against the roar of the bike.
He looked back with a fitting smile and a raised brow.
“Never mind.” I mouthed.
I closed my eyes and let the wind wash away all the negativity of the day.
When the bike slowed again, I took advantage of the quiet and called up to him, “I need to get back to the tavern.”
I meant, I needed to get back to my car, so I could go to the tavern. I assumed he understood, until he slowed, and I finally opened my eyes.
We hooked into the parking lot of my father’s establishment, and I fought the urge to correct him. I made a snap decision that it would be easier and cause less of a scene if Roach or someone drove me back to the Kids Center later.
Rigs’s bumblebee-yellow Mustang whipped into the parking lot, aggressively coming to a stop to the far right of the tavern door. She yanked her seatbelt off and threw the door open like she was going to come out swinging. Instead, she leveled a death glare that made my decision for me.
“Thanks for the ride,” I whispered, leaning in so my breath teased against his neck.
He gripped my thigh, pinning me in place while he peeked back at me with a grin.
“I told you, you’re my backpack now.”
“Riiight,” I stressed, only for him to twist around and confront me.
“That is right. You’re mine. Don’t get squirrely now.”
I swatted his upper arm, placing my weight into the shove as I dismounted.
He was off in a flash, his fingers slipping around my wrist in a hold that was so possessive, I stopped in my tracks.
I forgot about rubbing it in Rigs’s face as all the ‘oh shit’ whistles sang in my head.
I couldn’t walk into my father’s tavern hand in hand, or wrist in hand, as it were, with Kingston fucking Crowe. The people trickling in and out were already staring at us and slowing for the show. My cheeks began to warm, and my mouth went dry.
“I only agreed to go with you today to piss Rigs off,” I blurted out, thinking that would dispel any thoughts of chemistry between us.
“I know.”
His lack of hesitation, and the matter-of-fact tone left me locking eyes with him. I don’t know what I expected to find.
Ridicule?
Judgement?
His midnight-blue eyes weren’t lit up with the usual malice, and that alone anchored me in place.
I was curious, and a little confused.
“What the fuck do you want with me?”
“Not with you. I want you, silly.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” I laughed, instinctively drawing my arms inward, with the urge to fold them over my chest.
His grip solidified, and he stepped into my space. My feet hadn’t moved and yet the world around us spun. I wanted to knee him, but my pride wouldn’t let me drop the illusion that I’d already gone so far to weave for Rigs.
It was an ignorant game, and I never felt as foolish as I did when I heard one of the men loudly greet behind us, “Afternoon, Forty.”
My jaw dropped. I didn’t know what to say or where to go. Worse, I wanted to run as badly as I wanted to crush my lips against him and knock that satisfied smirk off his face.
“Ken–” my father managed, just before I sprang into King’s grip and made my choice. I latched onto his jaw like I intended to rip it off and keep it, smashing my mouth to his in a near feral kiss.
It wasn’t that I’d pined after him, I could barely stand his smug ass most days. It was more a case of, if I didn’t do it quickly, I’d lose my nerve in front of all the people who’d suddenly found us to be the most interesting thing in the tavern front.
I’d planned on shocking him. I’d amused myself picturing him dumbfounded, but never in a million years did I expect his mouth to melt against mine so long and intently that I was left in a little daze when it ended.
All the fire knocked out of me as I stared in disbelief at the lips I’d just tasted. The same tongue that had lit up my very last nerve on more than a few rowdy Friday nights in the tavern, had left me half-intoxicated with just one delicious, little encounter.
I wasn’t in over my head.
I was already beyond rescue.
Panic bells screamed in my head.