LULA #2
Once alone at home, I pretended to work, but I couldn’t shake my restlessness. Around ten, I received a video call from Stevie. My heart hurt at the sight of her tired, battered face.
“I thought you were going to die,” Stevie said, tearing up. “I let you down.”
Instantly crying, I insisted, “No, you and Cher were badasses. I should have helped you. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t cry. You did nothing wrong.”
Wiping my tears, I smiled at her. “How do you feel?”
“Funky. They have me on the good hard meds, so I’m not sharp right now,” Stevie said and then glanced in the direction of her sister’s bed. “They’re keeping Cher asleep to let her brain rest. I think that’s good, you know? She was always tired. This way, she can have a long nap and get better.”
I smiled at Stevie’s optimism, even while wondering how much of it was related to her medication.
We talked only a bit more before she yawned too often to keep the conversation going. I asked if I could visit, but she claimed she only wanted her mom and dad around.
“I don’t want to pretend for people,” Stevie explained and yawned again. “I can be a whiny baby with my parents. No tough girl shit for me right now.”
After the call, I nearly texted Exile to cancel our lunch date. I felt too morose to spend the afternoon flirting with him.
Falling on my bed after showering, I considered how he left home and rode for hours to reach me. He then got stuck with Rowdy for the night. My brother was a fun guy, but I doubted Exile planned on that scenario when he showed up at my door.
Even if I wanted to stay home and hide from the world, I owed Exile at least a meal out like normal people.
The biker certainly didn’t look like a normal guy as he strutted up to my front door. He wore one of the shirts I had bought Rowdy over the years. The fabric clung to Exile’s buff chest, leaving me very aware of why I’d been so willing to flirt yesterday.
On Exile’s head was his trusty cowboy hat. My brother parked at our parents’ house and waved at me before heading inside. I smiled at how he knew to let Exile and me be.
“You look great,” I said, forgetting myself. “I hope you and Rowdy weren’t at each other’s throats all night.”
Offering a stunning smile, Exile chuckled. “He was a good host, except for kicking my ass at video games.”
Exile stepped into the foyer and exhaled softly as if the sight of me made it difficult for him to breathe.
I shut the door and started to turn away. A sudden urge came over me, demanding I keep him at arm’s length.
Exile would be gone soon. I was already thinking about losing him rather than enjoying how he was right here with me now.
Turning back toward Exile, I met his gaze and smiled softly. His expression shifted immediately. I realized his walls were also up. Now, though, with me smiling so invitingly at him, he exposed his heart for me.
“I’ll drive,” I said and rested my hand against his chest. “You can be my bodyguard.”
Exile didn’t rush his lips to mine. His calloused fingers moved like a breeze across my cheeks. He tested out the feelings between us. Exile likely spent all night wondering if he made a mistake by coming to Little Memphis to see me. Was I worth the effort?
His fingers stroked my lips. I felt his control slipping. We were quickly addicted to this attraction between us.
Exile kissed me softly, testing my reaction.
I met his tentative heat with my more assertive desire.
Feeling brazen, he deepened the kiss and wrapped his body against mine.
The heat between us washed away my earlier sadness.
Right then, the world shrank down to only Exile and me, and he felt fucking great.
“Holy hell,” he muttered when we came up for air.
Smiling at how his body clearly wanted to take our affection to the bedroom, I remarked, “I needed that.” I walked to the kitchen counter and grabbed my purse. “Let’s head out before I get cold feet about leaving the house again.”
“Feeling the pinch over what happened?” Exile asked, wearing a steely gaze.
“With my every breath.”
Before I could get upset, I walked to the garage. Exile followed me to my black BMW SUV. As the garage doors opened, I slid into the driver’s seat while Exile filled up the passenger’s spot.
“I talked to Stevie today,” I said, trying to stay calm. “That helped, but, yeah, I’m feeling the pinch today.”
“Maybe we should stay at your place,” he suggested while I backed out of the driveway.
“That’ll only feed my paranoia. This is my town. I have people around, searching for trouble. Besides, you’re with me. If I start hiding now, when will I ever be able to stop?”
“I only have a single pistol and an extra mag,” Exile said, already looking for threats before we even left the Sleepy Eye Community.
“I’m packing. Both in my purse and under your seat.”
Nodding, Exile relaxed at the thought of us going to lunch, locked and loaded.
My mind weighed heavily with thoughts of the past and worries about the future. So, rather than drive straight to the restaurant, I made a stop at a place my dad knew well.
I parked at the massive quarry where the club sometimes buried its enemies. Exile likely knew the significance of this place and was slow to exit. Only when he realized I was standing in the open did he move his ass with more urgency.
“What are we doing here?” Exile asked, standing between the road and me.
The area was quiet today despite plenty of people keeping watch. When my gaze returned to Exile, I found a man standing at a crossroads.
Studying him, I asked, “What do you see when you look at me?”
“A gorgeous, intelligent woman.”
“And how do you see yourself?”
“I’m a guy with money and responsibility. I do okay.”
“Do you have hangups about your dad?”
Exile went still, likely wondering how much I knew about his father’s crimes. Despite his agitation, he shrugged and asked, “Who doesn’t?”
“My brother doesn’t have any hangups.”
Narrowing his gaze, Exile snapped, “Well, maybe Rowdy ought to.”
“Don’t lash out because you feel on the spot.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“I need you to know who I am,” I explained in a soft voice, hoping to keep him focused on me rather than his insecurities.
“A person is more than what you see on the outside. I’m not just a lawyer, mom, and member of the Crimson Guard.
I’m my parents’ daughter. My mom came from a long line of women who sold their bodies to pay the rent.
Bebe was the first one to do something else. She was a maid at a hotel.”
“There’s no shame in working a job.”
“My blood father wanted to pimp her out,” I explained, hating to admit I wasn’t Pax’s biological daughter. “Wolfman was a violent pimp and went to prison for dog fighting.”
Exile scowled, seeming confused. “I didn’t know Pax wasn’t your real dad.”
I smiled at his words, having spent most of my life wishing I were blood-related to Pax rather than Wolfman.
“When I was three, Wolfman sold Bebe and me to a gang of assholes to pay a debt. I remember thinking we were going to die, but then Pax showed up and made things better.”
Studying me, Exile stated, “You still haven’t explained why we’re here.”
“This place is linked to me. It’s where people who mess with the Little Memphis club got buried.
I come here occasionally to think about Wolfman somewhere underneath all this gravel.
After Pax claimed Bebe, I grew up with a middle-class childhood.
But before that, my life was precarious.
I wanted you to know I’m more complicated than the lady in the business suits.
I come from rough stock like you do. I know your dad was a monster. Now, you know mine was, too.”
“I get it. You’re tough.”
“No, I’m not tough like a lot of the women in my club. But I am scarred inside. I think you are, too. But people look at you and see the healed wounds. They get that you’re hard. But people can’t see that with me. I need you to be able to acknowledge everything I am, not just the pretty parts.”
Exile glanced around, clearly disturbed over the mention of his dad. He took two very long minutes to settle into what I was saying.
“I don’t think Jarred and I were ever going to last,” I explained, and Exile immediately snarled at the mention of my ex-husband.
“We were too similar. He’s better with Alani.
So, even if he had understood me, I don’t think it would have changed anything.
Yet, I was always bothered by how he saw me as the good girl with the degree and refused to acknowledge all the ugly stuff hiding inside me. ”
With Exile’s walls so high up, I wasn’t sure he could even see me anymore. I took his hand and let my thumb stroke his palm.
“I’m more than grateful to you,” I whispered and shuffled closer. “I feel like you’re special. I want to be special to you, too. But I also need what we share to be real. I would assume you also want me to see the real you.”
“Yeah, I do,” Exile said and rubbed the back of his neck while looking around. “But I don’t like talking about my dad.”
“I know what I need to know about him. Now, you know about Wolfman.”
“I never would have realized you weren’t Pax’s kid. You look just like your mom. Sabrina does, too.”
Smiling, I squeezed his hand. “Do you like Japanese food?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do. You trusted me with the beer. Let’s see if I can win you over with my food choices, too.”
Exile mimicked my smile and lost his annoyed edge. We returned to the SUV and headed to lunch. With his presence calming my earlier moodiness, I pushed aside every problem in the world and focused on the heat bubbling in my belly for this one particular man.