Vanessa
Chapter six
Three nights have passed since Braxton and I started…
whatever it is we started. Friends with benefits?
Fuck buddies? Mind-blowing orgasms that end in a kiss and a “good night” at my door?
They all pretty well sum up this little arrangement.
I’ve worked two shifts on those nights, but Braxton hasn’t been my personal bodyguard since the first night I went back to the club.
I think he realized his flimsy excuse to be my “protection” in case my “ex” showed up was just that.
Flimsy as hell. The club has plenty of security, and I’ve given them a rough idea of what the man who doesn’t exist looks like.
When Braxton asked for a picture, I told him I’d deleted them all and the nonexistent man doesn’t have social media of any sort.
I mean, that wasn’t the hardest lie to pull off, considering a man who isn’t real can’t exactly have a social media presence.
But, fuck, the lying sucks. Every time I have to think of some excuse, hell, any time the lies pour from my lips, a knot forms in my chest and I’m thrust back into the reality of what I’m doing here. Then I have to shove those thoughts back in a box and keep it moving.
I’ve gotten pretty good at compartmentalizing this thing with Braxton.
It’s a huge reason why I said no sleepovers or cuddling after we both come.
That’s where lines get blurry, even though sharing in mutual pleasure has already blurred them beyond anything I anticipated when I started this little charade of being a damsel in distress.
The last thing I need is to share a bed with him.
Pillow talk is a real thing, and it isn’t only my life that depends on not falling into that particular trap.
“That was great, Vanessa. Thank you,” Rocky says after he walks into the kitchen and scrapes off his breakfast plate.
“Glad you enjoyed it.” I smile at the prospect, and Braxton follows him in.
“Thought prospects were responsible for cleaning up after breakfast,” he grouses.
“I was just about to offer,” Rocky says.
“Seriously, Braxton. They have other things to do. I’m perfectly capable of washing a few dishes.” To say it’s been a struggle to get Braxton to let me hold up my end of our original bargain would be an understatement.
“Not the point. I told them to take care of breakfast dishes, they need to do it.”
I roll my eyes and drop the sponge I was using to wash out the dish I baked a giant casserole in. “Fine. Rocky, you take over washing and I’ll grab the rest of the plates.”
“Danny can grab them,” Braxton says as I make my way past him and out to the main room of the clubhouse.
Braxton is hot on my heels as I begin gathering the few plates and coffee cups on one of the tables.
“You finished?” I ask as I hold up the cup where Braxton was sitting.
“Yes.” He looks at the prospect sitting at the table. “Danny, clear the table.”
Danny stands and walks over to me, taking the plates from my hands. He finishes grabbing everything else from the table and walks into the kitchen as Braxton and I stare at each other.
“You’re a real pain in my ass this morning,” I say. “And not the good kind.”
Braxton’s mouth tips up in a half smile. “So ass play is on the table. Good to know.”
I give him a flat look, refusing to acknowledge his attempt at a joke. “Look, just because we’re sleeping together doesn’t mean that we didn’t have a deal when I came to stay here.”
“Well aware, Vanessa. But you’re working, and soon enough you’ll have your own place. The last thing these guys need is to depend on you to do shit around the clubhouse for them. They’re just as capable as you are at cleaning up their messes.”
Right now, I’m not feeling particularly capable of cleaning up the mess I’m in, but I know that’s not what Braxton means.
I blow out a long breath and shake my head. “Fine. You’re the boss.” My tone suggests the opposite.
“What do you have planned for the day? You work tonight?” he asks, ignoring my sassiness.
“No. I have the next two nights off. I was going to get some stuff done around here. If that’s okay with you.”
Braxton smiles and nods, again completely ignoring my attitude. “Sounds good. I’ll grab dinner on the way home from the shop. Might be there late; a new project is supposed to come in today, and it’s going to be all hands on deck to get it started.”
“Sounds good.”
Braxton starts to move toward me, then he must think twice because he takes a giant step backward and heads toward the front door of the clubhouse. I could swear for a second there he was about to kiss me goodbye, which would be jumping way over the boundaries we agreed to.
“See you tonight,” he says, opening the door and letting the bright morning sunshine in for a moment before it shuts behind him.
Three nights into our no-strings and plenty-of-orgasms arrangement, and it looks like lines are already becoming pretty fucking fuzzy.
The phone in my pocket buzzes. When I pull it out, I see my mom’s name on the screen.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetie. I haven’t talked to you in a while. How’s the new job going?”
I’m an asshole. The thought of having to lie to an entire clubhouse of people and my mom has been overwhelming. Instead of calling and checking on her and my little sister like a caring daughter would do, I’ve been too chickenshit to do more than send a few texts here and there.
As far as my mother’s concerned, I started dancing in Shine to get out of the city.
I told her I was burned out on New York and wanted a fresh start.
Somewhere Russ couldn’t have control over me.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’m here doing his bidding because he threatened her and Noel.
She thinks I’m putting down roots. What I didn’t tell her is that as soon as this little mission Russ sent me on is over, I plan to take my mom and sister and disappear.
I don’t know when or how, but I’m not sticking around where I’ll have a former member of the Bratva pulling my strings and a pissed-off MC looking for me.
“It’s going well. How is everything there? How are you on money?” I ask, knowing she must be running low.
When my stepfather died, she was left with a little money and absolutely zero skills she could use in the workforce.
Since I was working, I offered to let her stay home with Noel—who was only three at the time.
It’s not that she couldn’t have found a job at some point, but that’s not who my mom is.
She was taken care of by my father and then her second husband.
My mom isn’t someone I would consider emotionally stable.
She’s a good mom to Noel, but if she’s faced with any sort of stress, she shuts down.
I took on the role of provider because I knew she wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure.
If it were just me, I might have gone my own way a long time ago.
But I love my mom, and my little sister needs someone in her life she can depend on to make sure there’s food on the table and a roof over her head.
Noel certainly didn’t ask to be an afterthought for my stepbrother—who is also her half brother, not that he’s ever cared about blood relation.
“Things are getting a little tight,” she replies. “Russ stopped by, asking if I’d heard from you. He gave me a few hundred dollars for groceries.”
That honestly shocks the shit out of me. Russ has never given my mom money, which tells me things could very well be worse off there than what I thought.
“Did he say anything else?” I ask.
Leave it to that asshole to spill something I’d rather my mom not know about.
“No. Just that he hopes you’re doing well in your new job and that you come for a visit soon.”
That makes my senses tingle. Why would he want me in New York?
I look at the clock hanging on the wall. I have plenty of time to make it to New York and back before Braxton gets home if I leave in the next thirty minutes. That way, my mom has some extra cash, and I don’t have to explain to anyone what I was out all day doing.
“Mom, I’m going to come visit today. I’ll bring you some money, too.”
“Are you sure you have time?” she asks with cautious excitement lacing her words.
“Yeah. I have the day off. But I can’t stay too long.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful, Vanessa. And I know Noel has been missing her big sister.”
I remind myself that’s who I’m really doing this for. It’s not her fault she was born to a father who thought he was invincible and would always be around, and a mother who is as helpless as a baby deer.
“Okay, I’ll see you in a few hours.”
We disconnect the call and before I can put my phone back in my pocket, a text notification pops up on my screen.
When I open the message from an unknown number, I see a picture of my little sister walking to school.
Unknown: I need that information Vanessa. People are counting on you to get it.
Son of a fucking bitch. I immediately know it’s Russ. He probably dumped his old phone. Too bad he didn’t lose my number in the process.
Me: I’m working on it.
Unknown: Work faster.
The urge to send him a middle finger emoji is ridiculously strong, but I hold myself back. It’s never a good idea to provoke a psychopath.
Over the last couple weeks that I’ve been here, I haven’t made a huge effort to try to snoop around.
Part of the reason is because I don’t want anyone looking at me suspiciously, and the other part is…
I really don’t want to. These guys have taken me in and never asked for anything in return.
Braxton even put my little sedan on a jack and changed the oil for me last week.
I didn’t ask or say anything about needing an oil change; he simply took it upon himself to check my car and decided to do it.
It’s not a diamond ring or him declaring his undying fealty to me, but it’s probably one of the nicest things anyone has done for me just because.