Chapter 14—Ruby
Ten months later
Waking up screaming isn’t how I like to start the day. It’s draining. I’m sure if it was from a scream of passion, I’d think otherwise. But I haven’t had that. Screams of passion, yes. Woken up by one? Not so much.
I shuffle out of bed and head to the bathroom across the hall.
I still have enough stuff at Dad’s place to get ready in the morning.
I swear that guy stocks up on my bath supplies once a year just to keep me from complaining that I can’t stay over.
Well, that, and he bribes me with food any chance he gets.
What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good free meal.
The food on campus is okay, but not something you write home about.
Do people even do that anymore?
My mind wanders as I turn the shower on and get in once it’s warm, letting the water wash away the lack of sleep I’m riding high on. Between the late-night gaming last night with Bowser and the nightmare this morning, I can tell it’s going to be a long fucking day.
Just like it has been over the past year.
I’ve fallen into a routine. A long, boring routine.
It’s just the same every day: get up, go to school, study.
When I’m not at school, I’m back home watching the club kids along with more studying.
I don’t know why I thought it would be such a good idea to double the class load to graduate earlier.
And then I got the stupid idea to just go straight into my doctorate program without even taking the summer off.
Hell, I didn’t even celebrate when I graduated from college.
Mostly because I thought it was stupid to have a big party for something you were returning to.
I promised myself and Dad that when I get my doctorate, that’s when we’ll celebrate.
He’s already making plans. Told me he was even going to take me on a trip. This is his way of telling me that I’m going to take a break after this, but before I start my practice. ’Cause that’s the end goal: to have my own place to do what I want to do.
I might not have everything right now, like a building or anything, but this program takes three years.
I’ve got time. And during that time, other than learning the business aspect of what it takes to be a successful physical therapist, I’ve got a part-time job that’s willing to work around my clinical rotations when I start on those next year.
I’ve been there for a month now and already love it.
The people are awesome, and I’m learning a lot.
It’s exactly the type of clinic I want to have when I go solo.
I get that my life is filled with school and my job and babysitting. Some might say, and have said, that it sucks. Do I get lonely at night? Nope. Want to know why? I crash the fuck out. I’m too tired to be missing anything.
I’m keeping my head down. My nose in a book.
Even Natalie is doing the same, but she double majored and is taking another full year and a half to finish her bachelor’s before moving on.
She still hasn’t decided, but with an engineering degree and another in English literature, she’ll be ready for just about anything.
If she ever finishes. I told her to double major in something that had course credits in common, but she wasn’t about doubling up. She just wanted options. Her words.
At least the club is still as active as always.
Weddings, babies—you name it, we’ve got it.
And it seems we’re about to get more old ladies around here.
No one is saying it outright, but this new girl, Milly, she’s turning heads.
Then again, when you take out all but one member of an assassination team by yourself to get you and your kid safe, the brothers are going to talk.
And when it’s a pretty woman? Yeah, the boys don’t shut up much about it.
Well, unless Bass is around. It’ll be interesting to see how that plays out.
I shut off the water and hear my dad yelling at me from below. I get out of the shower, head to the door, and crack it open.
“Yeah?”
“Leaving in ten. Be ready.”
“I’ll meet you there.” No way am I going to be put together in ten. The water woke me up, but I’ve still got to put myself together enough to look like something other than a zombie from Night of the Living Dead.
“Ten,” he calls back, and I shut the door with an eye roll. “Don’t roll your eyes,” I hear him yell. He might not have seen me, but he knows me well enough.
“I didn’t,” I say back with a smile. It’s all crap. He knows it; I know it. But we still play this game. That’s what happens when you raise a strongheaded daughter—you get sass all the livelong day. Lucky him.
I didn’t wash my hair, so it doesn’t take as long to get ready. More than ten minutes, but less than thirty. I call it a win, even if Dad is grumbling about women taking too damn long as we enter our favorite bakery.
“I told you I would meet you here.” The same thing I say every time he mumbles about the exhaustiveness of women or anything about us.
And by us women, I mean me. Since Mom died, I’m it for Dad.
He can talk to another woman, but he doesn’t do more than that.
Never even flirts. Vamps know to stay away, not only because he isn’t interested, but I might have made a few bold moves when I first started coming along to the clubhouse.
I made it very clear I wasn’t looking for a new mommy, and any hoochie-coochie who got within spitting distance was getting a knife to the throat.
It helped that I punched the bitch I was threatening in front of a lot of them when all she did was say my dad’s name.
I was only in high school back then, but I still knocked the shit out of her.
And not a single brother punished me for it.
That’s probably what sealed the deal on the whole thing.
If the club ain’t willing to step in and correct my actions, that means there’s nothing to correct and they stand by it.
The Hounds don’t force vamps to sleep with members of the club.
And since they don’t force it, they expect the same courtesy.
If a guy ain’t interested, move on. If they approach, it’s free game.
Hell, a vamp can even approach unless they get the shake off.
All fair. Even if I’m not a fan of the few who get with vamps when they’ve got a “townie” on the side.
The brothers who like to have a girlfriend but also want someone freaky in bed are not my type.
Not sure if I have a true type, but I know what I don’t like. And I don’t like to share.
Thankfully, none of the brothers who’ve taken old ladies fall into this category.
If they did, I’d cut off more dicks. I like the girls.
Everyone who’s wrangled a Hound is worth their weight in gold.
I can get along with a vamp if forced, but, sorry to say, a girl who spreads her legs for half of the people I see as older stepbrothers isn’t someone I want to be friends with and tell my secrets to. Not that I tell anyone my secrets.
They’re secret for a reason. If you voice them, that defeats the purpose.
We order the usual, and they’re quick to bring out the coffees and pastries: bear claw for Dad and cinnamon roll with cream cheese frosting for me.
Oh, and a side of bacon. Because we need protein, and breakfast is the best meal of the day.
That, and they add honey and brown sugar to it, so it’s just damn amazing.
Thankfully, Dad ordered two servings, so we don’t have to share.
We tried that once with the bacon. Big mistake. It almost split up the family.
Kidding.
Sort of.
Bacon is life in our household, so it’s not hard to believe that it could have gone that far.
“What’s the plan today?”
I shrug. “Figured I’d stop by the club for a bit and vet the new girl.”
Dad just shakes his head. “Not needed. Boys and I already checked her out. She has some mafia ties, but from what we can determine, she’s good. Got Bass watching over her.”
“That’s the point. I need to make sure she’s good enough to be old lady material.”
“Old lady? To who?”
“Seriously?” The guy looks at me like I’m the one who’s lost my mind. But I’m not about to tell him who it is. Let it be a surprise. Even though I think he already knows and just likes playing dumb. “Whatever. If the girl is going to be sticking around, I need to do my part.”
“And what part is that?”
“Making sure she can fit in.” Duh. I do this with every girl who comes in who isn’t looking for a quick fuck.
They all get vetted by me. Sure, the boys can say they decide on who becomes their old lady or not, but trust me, no one makes it to that stage without getting the green light from me first. If I like them, I do nothing.
Let the boys mess it up on their own if they’re going to.
But if I see them as a problem? I’ll make the girl run faster than a gazelle being chased by a lion.
Dad gives me his typical look. The one you see on dads who look at their kids like they just said the moon is made of cheese and one day they’re going to eat it.
“Sweetheart, that ain’t your part. Your part is to go to school and live a life out of the club.”
I snort. “Out of the club? Seriously? I was made from the club. I bleed the club life.”
“But you ain’t club.”
He smiles as he says it. A kind smile. One that reaches his eyes and is paired with a gentle tone. And it makes my blood boil with rage.
I take a bite of my food instead of lashing out and chew it slowly.
Even counting to twenty before I give up trying to hold myself back.
“You know… you’re the president.” He looks up from his food but doesn’t interrupt as I keep going.
“You run the mother chapter. Other chapters turn to you for advice.”
He raises one eyebrow, letting me know he’s waiting for me to get on with it.