Chapter Thirteen
Garrett
We don’t stop riding till we reach Greenbury Point in Annapolis. It only takes thirty minutes to get here. We’ve been here a few times and know the terrain well.
A few days have passed since I fucked Calli in her kitchen. Three full days of reliving the moment I sank my dick inside of her, had her body at my mercy, pushing her over the edge again and again. She was so damn responsive, so eager and pliable.
I could have fucked her endlessly to see her go over like she was. We didn’t say much afterwards. Except my warning about Caleb. With no context whatsoever. That was fucking stupid.
I haven’t told a soul about what happened. It’s no one's business. I don’t even know what to think of it, or where it goes from here.
We didn’t exchange numbers. She hasn’t been around the shop. Then again, she’s been avoiding it and, according to Lucky, the pub for their standing happy hour on a Friday. I was glad to hear she was back there last night, even though I didn’t show it.
As much as I’m dying to find out about her history, about what she is hiding from everyone, I’m in no position to ask. For all I know, she got what she wanted from me and now it’s over.
Damn, it was sex. Nothing more. We’ve been circling it for weeks, the attraction, the lust. It’s just biology. That can’t happen again.
Although fucking her again is high on the very short list of things I want. I’ve known women with piercings before who go off at the slightest touch. Calli, fuck it was like pure heaven watching her, feeling her, every time she lost it when I played with her piercings.
And mine, damn. Seeing her reaction to my Jacob’s ladder was interesting. I’ve had women refuse to let me fuck them when they saw it. Some who couldn’t wait to experience it. No one I’ve used it with has had anything bad to say about it.
It felt so good sinking inside of her. I at least had the good sense to pull out. Not so much going in bare. That was a moment of madness. Although I believe her when she said it was ok. And I’m clean, I don’t have sex without protection.
Until her. It felt fucking amazing. How her body welcomed me, how warm it felt inside, wet and tight and… My dick stirs making me groan.
Shit, stop thinking about her. This isn’t the time, or the place. My friend needs me.
Phoenix has been quiet, which isn’t normal. I’ve dragged my head out of my ass long enough to convince him to go for a ride. It’s quiet now the roar of our motorcycle engines has died down.
Phoenix gets off his bike, stows his helmet and walks across the rough grass toward the edge of the water. We stand a few feet apart. Phoenix in that easy, slouchy manner of his, me with my hands on my hips.
He isn’t fooling me with that easy stance. The skin around his eyes is tight and he’s been biting his nails. Silently we stare across the water at Whitehall Bay.
“Okay go ahead,” Phoenix says.
“I’m not a therapist.”
He chuckles and tilts his head to stare at his boots. “Yet you brought me out here. Anyway, it’s nothing you don’t already know about. I’m… I’m tired of it.”
“Nero shouldn’t keep bringing you round.”
Phoenix shrugs. “You know what he’s like. He likes control.”
“He’s the one who says he wants you out of it. Then he brings you around. He needs to decide if it’s one foot in or one foot out.”
“Like he does with you?”
“That’s different.”
Phoenix turns, so he is facing me. “Is it… Ghost ?”
My jaw clenches.
“I know he hasn’t called you up a lot. Just that last job a few weeks ago. You seem more settled about it.”
“He’s listening.”
“About the enforcer shit?”
I nod, not wanting to talk about how Nero used me to intimidate people. Nero has enough people who go to those lengths for him. I’m not an idiot. He got me embedded, did it the way he wanted and now he’s lenient with the work. I’ll forever be on his hook.
“That’s good. I know you didn’t like that shit.” He’s quieter when he speaks again. “She’s using.”
Fuck . He means his mom. Kate’s been clean for a few years. For her to be taking drugs again, that’s huge. And understandable why Phoenix isn’t dealing with it.
“I told her last time, Garrett. She knew what would happen.”
This is the part where some people would try to placate him, tell him she slipped up, but she can get clean again.
I’m not that person. I wanted him to cut her loose the last time she had a relapse. His mom has a routine when she gets like this. She uses Phoenix as a crutch. Or she needs money from him. It always starts the same.
“How long has she been calling?”
“Only a week. I didn’t think it had got so far, but it’s bad. A couple of weeks back, Nero said Darla was around and not to come over. He never said anything about mom. Then she starts calling.”
“Did he know she’s using again?”
“He says he didn’t,” Phoenix lets out a wry laugh. “We both know nothing happens that Nero doesn’t know about. He said he has a lot on so isn’t paying attention to what the women are doing.” His voice turns harder, quieter. “She’s getting that shit from one of the brothers, Garrett.”
Nero is preoccupied by whatever he had me looking for. He won’t be looking out for Phoenix’s mom. It’s got to have something to do with that asshole Caleb Dexter. Who is showing interest in Calli. Why the fuck didn’t I ask Nero any questions?
It’s not like I can do it now. Nero cut me loose from that job. Asking questions will piss him off and bring up the whole argument about me being a part of the club.
If I need to know things, Nero will say I should be a legit, full-time member. I already hear his voice in my head.
If it means I have to keep a closer eye on Calli… She gave nothing away about where her head was when I left her apartment. Not that I gave her a chance. Won’t stop me watching out for that prick. As if he even has a chance with her. Jesus, jealousy is not something I’m used to. I don’t like it.
“Yeah, some brother huh,” Phoenix squats down and plucks at the grass.
Shit, I’m thinking about Calli again, when I need to focus on my friend. Another reason why I should stay away from her. She’s a distraction I can do without.
“Maybe you need to cut ties.”
“You believe he’ll let me,” he looks up, squinting against the sun. It’s not a question. We both know the answer.
“Back to the real issue at hand. What are you gonna do about Kate?”
I’ll follow his lead. Phoenix doesn’t need me to baby him. He knows I’ve got his back, even if I have to hold my tongue about some of his decisions.
He slaps his hands together to get grass off and stands back up. “She’s my mom. I can’t turn my back on her. Lucky had this friend who went to a rehab place in Bethesda. Said it’s one of the best in the country.”
“Lucky knows about this?”
“Yeah.”
My brow lifts but I don’t say anything. Phoenix knows well enough how I feel about him and Lucky. I’m not sure how her help will affect their relationship down the line.
“It’s not cheap, but I have money put away.”
“Your savings?”
Shit I don’t like that. Phoenix wants to get himself a house, instead of renting an apartment. He’s been saving for years.
“I’m good to get her a two month stay without hurting my wallet. That’ll be enough. If it’s not… I guess I have to give up.”
“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”
He doesn’t look as if he agrees. That is a problem for another day.
“I’ll need to take some time off to get things set up. She’s not gonna go quietly.”
“Whatever you need.”
“I’ll figure the bookings out with Lucky. Keep you posted.”
“You good?” I ask.
“Yeah, I will be. Thanks, bro.”
I nod with a grunt. Phoenix lets out a laugh.
“You coming to the festival?” he stomps over the grass back to his bike. After a moment of sheer agony over the question, I follow. “Lucky will cry if you don’t.”
It’s the Harbor Harvest Festival today and Lucky has roped all of us in to go this afternoon. She’s been talking about it for weeks, and made sure none of us had any appointments.
“The storeroom needs cleaning,” I grab my helmet, acting like I don’t care if Lucky gets upset.
A loud laugh bursts out of him. “Lighten up and just go with it. You’ve been extra asshole-ish lately. Anything you want to talk about, given we’re at the talking corner?”
“Why would I have anything to talk about?”
“You tell me.” He swings a leg over his bike.
“Yeah, no. I got nothing.”
“You’re a shit liar, Garrett.”
“I’m also not going to talk about it.”
“The double standards are fucking real here.”
“You need it. I don’t.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Phoenix starts up his bike. “Race ya.”
He takes off before I’m even on my bike. Childish prick. I’m still concerned, but this was worth it. He’s talked it out, he has a solution, no matter how short term. It’s his leaning on Lucky that has me worried.
I tear out after him. Ain’t no way I’m letting him beat me back home.
The festival is along the promenade by Waterfront Park, which is a short walk from the shop. It’s a beautiful day but I keep looking up at the sky. I haven’t forgotten that torrential downpour. For many reasons. Including my boots still being wet.
The Harbor Harvest Festival happens annually. Despite my moaning about it, we’ve been coming for years. Mostly for the amazing bratwurst and cider stall owned by a couple of German guys who travel the country attending festivals. They only swing through Baltimore once a year.
As we walk, the amazing aroma of freshly cooked street food mingles with the sugary scent of cotton candy. A family are approaching with three kids, faces painted like butterflies and tigers, laughing at something their dad is saying to them.
Phoenix watches with a faint smile. Apart from Nero and his mom, he doesn’t have other family. Much like me, my dad was absent from the day mom found out she was pregnant with me. Gwen is gone and mom is in an assisted living facility.
If that is what you call a place for someone who has completely lost their mind to grief. She never got over Gwen’s death. Guess having another child who needed her, didn’t really warrant being important enough to keep her from shutting down.
Everyone is at the Bratz and Cider stall, having secured a large picnic table. There are three giant jugs of cider on the table, and it’s littered with plastic glasses.
Sumner is chatting with a woman, giving her his easy smile and flirty eyes. Shane has two women and a guy with him. Lucky jumps up when she sees us, a broad grin on her face. Bouncing off the bench she comes over and jumps at me.
I’m not a fucking hugger but she doesn’t give me much choice, she’s had a few ciders already. I pat her back with one arm. Her gaze goes to Phoenix and they have a silent conversation. He gives her a crooked grin, and she smiles and pulls him into a hug too.
“Come on, we’ve started without you.”
“I can see that,” I drawl and head to the table.
Everyone greets us. Shane introduces us to his friends, whose names I promptly forget, and we stand by as Lucky pours us both a large pint of cider. I’m starving but the line for brats is about twenty deep. They won’t run out, they never do, so I’ll wait. Phoenix takes a seat and falls into easy conversation with Sumner and the girl.
Sometimes I wish I was more like these guys. It comes easy to them. I’m way too guarded. Mostly because I don’t like people. It’s hard for me to open up and I’m not bothered by what anyone thinks.
When the line goes down, I join, telling everyone it’s on me, including the harem of women. I’m not hurting for money and know they appreciate me buying.
As I gather up all the food on a tray to bring it over, another group arrive to join the table.
Like a magnet, I catch Calli’s eye. She’s wearing a black sundress, slightly longer than the one she wore the other day. The skirt is billowing around her legs in the light breeze coming off the water, and she has wedge sandals on with a slight heel.
Her hair is up in a messy bun and her long neck is on display. It brings back memories of the other day. I can remember the taste of her skin as easily as if I’ve just lifted my lips away.
She smiles a little awkwardly. I dip my chin but have my hands full with food. When I lift my head again, she’s turned away and is chatting with Shane. Her little crew is with her, including Jericho and another guy who is sticking close to the girl who works at the coffee shop with Calli.
Doesn’t appear Calli has brought anyone along. Good job. I’m not sure I could contain the urge to rip off the head of anyone looking at her, let alone touching her.
“Need a hand there, G-man? Or are yer too busy thinking about how you want to get a leg over with Lucky’s hot new friend?”
“What the fuck did you say?” I glare at Sumner. I’ve listened to his Irish terminology enough to know what that means. And I’m not going to tell him I’ve already ‘got my leg over’.
Jesus, when you think about it, that’s a very literal and kind of disturbing phrase.
He winks and takes some of the food off me. “You’ve got it something brutal, ay? Not that I blame yer. She is a fine mot.”
“A what?” I turn to him, that shit I’m not familiar with. And in fairness, it sounds derogatory. I’m not having him talking shit about Calli.
“Mot. Means sexy woman in your American language my friend.”
Asshole. There is only one way to respond to that. “Go fuck yourself, Sumner.”
Sumner lets out a loud laugh. “Don’t try to glare yer way around it. I’ve never seen you interested in anything or anyone. It’s a rare and beautiful experience. Like witnessing a total eclipse of the sun.”
I can’t stop the snort at his analogy. Irritated with myself for laughing and giving Sumner any kind of leverage against me, I elbow him out of the way, forcing a scowl.
If he spotted the way I’m looking at Calli, there is no way the others will miss it.
I need to school my facial expressions. That’s easy when your perpetual expression is an angry one. Forcing myself not to look at her is fucking hard.
We set the food on the table, and everyone pounces on it like a pack of starving animals. Konrad and Lothar, the owners of Bratz and Cider come over to join us when there is a lull in sales.
As the afternoon turns into early evening, we’ve practically drank the cider barrels dry. The tone of the festival shifts, becoming something rowdier, the families having left. Strings of lights blink on, casting a golden glow over everything and the music gets louder, shifting to a full band on the stage rather than folk tunes.
The weather is holding out, so it’s still warm despite the sun dropping to the horizon. Usually, I bow out before it gets this late, but I’ve stuck around, much to the surprise of my staff. And myself.
A number of times I’ve caught Calli looking in my direction. Good to know she is as affected as I am. And as good at avoidance. Lucky is telling the Germans the tale of the man whose balls she annihilated when Calli heads away to the railing to stare across the bay.
She leans both elbows against the rail, staring out at the sun as the last rays of light vanish to dark blues and purples. I watch her, like there is nothing else around us, knowing I shouldn’t and willing myself to turn away.
Then she turns, her eyes catching mine across the distance. For a moment, I forget to breathe. It makes matters worse when she smiles, a faint curve of those gorgeous lips is enough to set my pulse racing. A quick glance around confirms no one is watching, either her or me.
We should probably talk about what happened. Clarify that it was a one-off.
Fuck it. I grab two glasses of cider and make my way down, hoping no one is paying attention.
Condensation runs down the glasses, wetting and chilling my fingers. I almost want to run one against my brow because I’m getting hot.
“Thirsty?” I ask when I reach her, offering one of the glasses.
She glances at the cider, then me, her expression unreadable. When she takes it, I let out a breath. This woman is bad for me. I shouldn’t have come down here.
There is something in the way she’s looking at me. It makes me feel both at ease and uncertain all at once. She’s bewitched me and I’m not walking away, even with warning sirens blaring in my head.
My brain can’t stop going back to how she felt wrapped around my cock, her slick skin against mine, as she kissed me almost as roughly as the way I was pounding into her sweet, wet pussy.
“Thanks,” she takes a sip of the cider, glancing up at the group then back to me.
The sound of her voice snaps me out of my thoughts with a jolt.
“I didn’t think this would be your kind of scene,” she says.
“I’m not a complete recluse. We come here every year. The cider is worth the socialization.”
Calli lets out a small laugh and my chest aches. What the fuck is wrong with me? Lay down the rules, tell her it won’t happen again. Those aren’t the words that leave my mouth.
“Drawn anything new?”
“No,” she seems as surprised by the question as I am. “Been busy with work. It’s hard being on your feet for seven hours a day.”
I lean an elbow against the rail and stare at her. She fidgets, then drinks more cider. I like making her nervous. Something about that thought is very wrong.
“You have a talent. Seems wasted as a barista.”
Her jaw works and her eyes slip away again. I hit a nerve. “What I do for a living isn’t your business.”
Never one to back down, I lean a little closer. “I call it like I see it. You’re not happy.”
“Takes a miserable person to recognize it in someone else,” she fires back.
“I’m not miserable. I know who I am, I do what I love. My personality might not be to everyone’s taste, but I am happy. Can you say the same?”
“Is this you trying to get to know me, after what happened the other day? You think because we… it entitles you to demand answers about my life?”
“You still can’t say it,” I smirk.
Her eyes narrow. “After we fucked .”
“Shit,” I mutter. She gives me a challenging look. “Is that the first time you’ve said something like that Calli?” My head cocks to one side, studying her. “The first time you’ve been fucked like that?”
Her chest rises and falls. “What is this?”
“We’re just talking.”
“No, you’re goading me. It’s like you’re deliberately trying to make me uncomfortable. Well,” she takes a deep inhale. “I don’t regret what we did. It was something I needed, and you were there.”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that.”
There is no hiding the flash of pain in her eyes. And something else I don’t like. Pity?
“You don’t like me,” she brushes off whatever that was. “And I’m not entirely sure how I feel about you,” she goes on. “So yeah, I’ve never not liked the person I’m having sex with before.”
“Makes for a hell of a better experience though, you can’t argue with that.”
Her brow furrows, and she switches the cider to her other hand, wiping her damp palm against her skirt. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Most women would have walked away by now. I’m acting like an asshole but she’s standing her ground. All I want to do is pin her against the railing and show her how this spat of ours is turning me the fuck on.
Not with our friends behind us, or the other people still wandering the festival. I have some self-control.
“So, tell me about the drawings,” I say diverting the subject. Talking about us having sex is doing neither of us any favors.
“Will you tell me about yours if I do?”