20. Fresh
FRESH
KITTY
I flex my hand, wincing as the stitches pull. “You okay?” Diamond asks, buttering a piece of toast for me.
“Sore.” I shrug.
We’re in our usual spot in the bar having breakfast. I stare at the TV screen without registering what’s on.
Chatter hums around us but the words sound like static.
I can’t focus on anything. Yesterday, the dam burst and everything that’d been building inside me exploded out, uncontrolled.
Wild and destructive. My emotions shattered around me, and I felt helpless as Cutter stood there, witnessing the extent of my brokenness.
With no walls remaining to protect me, I feel frayed. Raw.
I need to get out of here.
“Eat something,” Diamond says, pushing a plate toward me.
Her dark red hair is pulled up into a beehive.
A parrot could perch on the giant hoops in her ears.
I wonder how she finds the energy to be so put together all the time.
I haven’t looked in a mirror, but I know it’s not a pretty sight.
Diamond’s eyes shift to someone approaching.
“Hey,” Rogue says, stopping at our table. I didn’t notice she was in here. “Can I join you?”
“Sure, sweetheart.” Diamond chuckles. “You don’t need to ask.”
“I know, but Kit’s mad at me.” She slips into the seat next to me and nudges my shoulder.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you.” A waft of wildflowers and sugarcane fills my nostrils.
I’m not mad. I didn’t speak to her the entire time she stitched and bandaged me up. Maybe I’m a little mad.
“You mean lying to me?” I correct without looking at her.
Diamond’s eyes shift between us, her brow crinkled. “I’m going to go make a fresh pot of coffee,” she states, making the excuse to leave.
Adding cream to my coffee, Rogue picks up a spoon and begins stirring the liquid. “I really did need air, but you’re right. The truth is I was talking to Monster about Harley.”
My stomach dips. “Really?” I shift in my seat, a twinge of guilt niggling. She doesn’t mention her sister much anymore. Not to me, anyway.
“Really. He’s helping me with my grief.”
“Monster?” I ask incredulously, finally looking at her.
Rolling her eyes, she blows out a breath then steals my slice of toast. “He’s a really good guy. We’re friends.” She jerks a shoulder, tearing off the crust.
“Monster?” I repeat, my eyes burning into the side of her head.
Almost choking, she says around a mouthful, “Yes! Monster. It’s complicated. I don’t how to explain it. He understands the dark parts of me I had to tap into to be able deal with everything that happened.” A shadow passes over her eyes.
“What does my brother think about that?”
Her back straightens. “What’s there to think about? I’m allowed to have friends, Kit. Even if they’re odd.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
She’s right. It’s none of Callan’s business.
“Fine. If you say that’s the truth, I believe you.” I snatch my half-eaten toast from her and stuff it in my mouth.
“It is. But again, I’m sorry for making you feel any kind of way. And for stealing your breakfast.” She outstretches her arms. “Friends?”
“Fuck no.” I scrunch up my nose. “Family.” I tug her into me, squeezing her tight.
“Sisters,” she whispers, clinging to me a little longer.
Emotion clogs my throat. I need this—need her.
“Can I get in on this?” Dodger asks, his foot nudging the table, sending the teaspoon clattering to the floor.
“Not if you want to keep your balls, motherfucker,” my dad threatens, leaning over the back of my chair and dropping a kiss on my head. “How’s the hand, sweetheart?” he asks, rounding the table and pulling up a chair.
“Fine.” I hold it up and wiggle my fingers to prove it.
“She’s made of biker blood,” Dodger beams. Taking my mug of coffee, he slurps the liquid and helps himself to the bacon Diamond left on her plate. “You girls got plans today?”
Rogue exhales a breath and looks at me. “You want to do some wedding stuff?”
“Yes!”
“What the fuck?” Dodger exclaims, frowning at Cutter as he walks toward us, a large glass fishbowl in his arms, two goldfish swimming around a green plant swaying in the water.
My heart pounds into my throat.
Placing it on the table, he ignores all the eyes on him, focusing solely on me. “The kid at the store said goldfish live longer in pairs.” Digging into his pocket, he places a tube of food next to the bowl. “I’m really fucking sorry you got hurt, Kit. That’s the last thing I’d ever want for you.”
Thud—thud—thud.
Can they see him, hear him…is this happening?
“Am I missing something?” Dodger asks.
“You’re missing lots of things, brains being one,” Dad grunts.
“What’s going on?” Monster asks, looking over Cutter’s shoulder. I’m used to being surrounded by brothers, but right now, I wish everyone would fuck off. I’m pretty sure tears are burning my eyes.
“Cutter got Kit goldfish because she hurt her hand. Were we all supposed to get her something?”
“You know, married men used to give their wives a goldfish on their one-year anniversary. They’re supposed to bring luck,” Monster informs the group.
Nope, I can’t deal with this.
“My cat ate mine then I cut my hand open on the smashed bowl. Sounds pretty unlucky to me,” I snap. Pushing my chair back, I take off, getting all the way to the door before turning back around to get my fish.
This changes nothing.
“Do we have to do this in here? No offense, Kit, but your room looks like it belongs to a teenage boy.” Rose’s words reach my ears but don’t penetrate my brain.
“Kitty.” Rogue clicks her fingers in my face, jolting me from the trance the goldfish have me in. “Do you want to talk about it?” She juts her chin toward the bowl sitting on my dresser.
“No, sorry. What were you saying?”
“Rose was being totally offensive, and I said, ‘this seems excessive.’” She puffs out a frustrated breath, throwing a wedding magazine into the pile Rose has scattered across my bed.
“How is it excessive? This is the most special day of your life.” Rose skims the pages and jabs a finger on the one she was looking for. “Your figure would look incredible in that.”
Picking up the magazine, Rogue’s eyes spring wide. “It’s twelve thousand dollars.” She scoffs, shaking her head.
“Money won’t be an issue. You can get whatever you want. Callan is loaded.” He saves money like squirrels hoard nuts.
“My mom and Bear want to pay for my dress,” she says distractedly, checking her phone.
“So, are they an item now?”
Making a pfft sound with her lips, she takes a seat in the purple chair, curling her legs beneath her ass. “She avoids the question when I broach the subject and just says they both want to speak to me about something important but in person.”
“Aren’t they traveling the world?” Rose asks, thumbing through another book.
“It’s more hiding,” she says sheepishly. “Bear is a Devil, after all.”
“Was,” I correct. “And you’re marrying the VP of the Kings of Sin, who also happens to be the president’s son. If anyone can get strings pulled, it’s you. There’s no bounty on his head.”
She bites her lip nervously. “I know. Callan said no one will touch Bear, but every other member has been taken out. It would make anyone cautious.”
“They need to be here for the wedding, Rogue. Talk to my dad. Get the reassurance you need.”
“My boobs are going to explode.” Rose groans from her position on the bed, her palms cupping her tits. “Sorry, I need to go pump.” Hurrying to her feet, she winces. “Get the dress, Rogue.”
“That’s gross.” I squirm, shuddering once the door closes on Rose’s departure.
“It’s the most natural thing in the world. Why do babies freak you out so much?”
“They don’t freak me out, I just don’t get the excitement surrounding them. They fuck up your coochie then drain you for a year while shitting and crying nonstop.”
“Do you not want kids one day?”
Ewww. No.
“Did you not hear that my cat ate my goldfish? I’d be a terrible parent.”
Snorting, she throws a balled-up pair of socks at me. “Do you want to do something?”
“Like what?” I catch the socks and chuck them to the floor.
“I don’t know. Let’s hit up a club.”
A zap of excitement chases up my spine. “Are you serious?” Rogue never hits nightclubs.
“Yeah.” She swings her legs out from beneath her. “Callan is on a run tonight, and you need cheering up. Let’s do it.”
Squealing, I jump up and rush her, colliding with her body, tipping us and the chair to the floor. We land with a thud and giggle until we’re breathless.
Staring up at the ceiling, we lie there, catching our breaths in silence until Rogue says, “I think you broke my coccyx.”
“Is that something important? It sounds sexual.” I’m too close to Keg’s litterbox. It stinks.
Turning onto her side and resting her head on a bent elbow, she says, “Everything sounds sexual to you. You’re becoming more like the brothers by the day.”
“I fucked Chris,” I blurt out, covering my face with my hands.
Jolting into a sitting position, she asks, “Who the hell is Chris?”
Oh my god.
I peek through my fingers. Rogue’s mouth is gaping, her eyes the size of Diamond’s hooped earrings. Hysteria takes over me.
“Kitty.” She pokes at my ribs. “Who is Chris?”
“Tim,” I shout, groaning into my palms, pain tightening my stomach.
“Oh, shit. Chris ,” she says his name wistfully. “He looks like a Chris.”
“He told me he loves me,” I add, uneasiness swirling inside me.
“WHAT!” she exclaims, making Keg dart beneath the bed in fright.
“I know! It was horrible.” Why does he have to love me?
“The sex was horrible?”
“No,” I whine. “The sex was fine.”
“Fine?”
“Good,” I correct. It was good.
“You don’t sound so sure.”
“It was different. Vanilla.” I shrug. Cutter is a rough lover, and I crave his animalistic fucking.
“What did you do when he told you he loved you?”
Died.
“What could I do?”
“Well, did you say anything back?”
Cutting a glare in her direction, I grind out, “I’m not going to pretend to feel things that aren’t there.”
“That’s good. Don’t take his heart if you can’t love him back,” she says, like I don’t already know how shitty that is.
Getting up, I begin stacking the magazines into a pile, irritated. “I wouldn’t do that. It was a one-time thing,” I say defensively. “He asked me for one night.”
Pushing to her feet, she brushes my arm with her fingers. “Don’t get upset.”
“I’m not upset.” I huff, plonking down on the mattress. “I’m fed up.”
“Okay.” Sitting beside me, she says, “Get ready. Let’s get drunk.”
That’s the support I’m looking for.
“I love you.” I nudge her shoulder.
Schooling her features, she looks me dead in the eyes. “I’m not fucking you for one night only.”
“Ha!”
I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, holding up the lilac wig then the blue. Indecision has me dumping both. My naturally blonde hair hangs around my shoulders, a slight wave to it. It’s pretty, the same style and shade as Claire’s—why I started wearing wigs in the first place.
It sickens me to think how much I’ve allowed stupid things to affect me.
Opening the cupboard, I rummage through the contents until I find a pair of scissors.
Taking a breath, I smile at myself in the mirror and fist a clump of hair, ignoring the burn from my cuts as I snip away at it.
Strands fall to my feet like confetti as I grip the next clump and the next.
When I’m done, it sits just below my jawline in jagged layers. Flawed, chaotic, fun. It’s me.
Slipping into a skin-tight black mini dress, I pair it with classic chunky-soled boots then smudge eyeliner under my eyes and smear on red lipstick.
A soft knock comes from the bedroom door. “I’m coming,” I call out, grabbing a bottle of perfume and spritzing it all over myself.
Waltzing through the bedroom, I grab the handle and pull it open, faltering when it’s not Rogue standing there. “Chris…”
“Hey, can I come in for a sec?”
“Sure.” Widening the opening, I stand aside, nervously tugging on the hem of my dress.
Scratching the back of his head, he avoids looking at the bed, focusing on a spot by the chair.
“Listen, Chris, I wasn’t fair to you yesterday.”
“No.” He shakes his head and comes to stand a few inches from me. Taking my hands delicately, he examines the cuts.
My heart pounds wildly in my chest. “You were clear with me about things, and I pushed.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t. Don’t be sorry.” He cups my cheek, a sad, resolute smile crooking his lips. “I shouldn’t have left the way I did.”
“I don’t want things to be weird between us.” I lean into his palm, my eyes closing. Why can’t I love you?
“How can they be? We’re friends, right?” His tone is a soft murmur.
Taking his hand from my cheek, I kiss the palm. “Of course. Always.”
“We’re adults. This was what it was, and now it’s done,” he states, though the words come out more as a question.
“Right.” I nod.
For the first time, I notice the road name sewn on his cut. Wheels. I stroke my fingers over the woven patch. “You won’t have to drive me around anymore.”
“That was the best part of my day.” He chuckles. “I’ll still take you wherever you want to go, Kit.”
“Kitty!” Rogue’s voice calls through the door. “I’m coming in. You better have clothes on.”
Taking a step back, Chris grins when Rogue enters. It’s genuine and happy. “Hey, trouble,” he greets her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.” Her eyes flit back and forth between us.
“Not the first time,” he teases, and she barks a sweet chime of laughter.
It’s easy with them, a real friendship. I hope we get to that point someday.
“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it. You both look really pretty.” Pointing a finger to his own head, he says, “I like the hair, Kit.”
“Thanks,” I say, fidgeting.
“Yeah, thanks, Chris,” Rogue says his name like it’s a secret she discovered.
Chuckling, he asks, “Do you need me to take you both somewhere?”
“No.” Rogue winces, stepping back out of the room and tugging someone into view.
“Kit, meet the newest Tim.”
A tall, broad, dark-haired guy looking like he walked straight from the pages of a rock magazine lifts a hand and winks at me.
“Hey.”
Great.