Chapter Six #2
“What? You said no princess, and I think it’s got a nice ring to it.” His eyes sparkled with a whole lot of trouble.
“Fuck you.”
Gator let out a loud laugh. “Damn, it’s good to have you home, p-cess.”
It was good to be home, even if she had a mountain of issues to get over.
And she’d let the p-cess slide for now. As annoying as it was, having people call her silly nicknames made her feel loved in a way she hadn’t in a long time.
And stupid as it might be, p-cess was still better than full-on princess. God, she hated that prissy nickname.
Beth cleared her throat as she traced a line of condensation running down her cup. “Hey, uh… I haven’t seen Saint since we got here.” Hopefully, that sounded as nonchalant as it did in her head.
Gator gave her a knowing look over the rim of his cup. “That is a road you do not want to travel down, p-cess.”
“What? There’s no road. The guy dragged my ass all the way here from Texas, then disappeared.” She shrugged. “I just wanna say thanks and make sure he’s good. It was a long ride.”
“Mm-hmm, I’m sure it was.”
“Gator…” She tried glaring a hole through his stupid, smirking face, but it only made him grin bigger.
“Copper will take him apart piece by painful piece.”
“Stop! You’re making shit up. Nothing happened, and nothing will happen.” She threw her hands up. “I don’t even want anything to happen. I’m just asking a friendly question.”
“Okay, so you won’t give a shit when I tell you he took off to get his dick sucked?”
Air whooshed out of her as though someone punched her stomach with a meaty fist. She swallowed. Her saliva tasted disgusting as it slid down to her roiling stomach. “No. Of course not. Why would I care?”
“Whatever you say, p-cess,” he said with another of those wicked smirks. This time, she was tempted to slap it off his face.
“That’s right, I do say.”
Could she sound any more like a sullen teenager?
“Can we please talk about something else? This conversation is absurd.”
“Sure. Wanna talk about those bruises you’re hiding and why you’re lying to everyone about your boyfriend being an abusive piece of shit.”
Beth froze with her Solo cup halfway to her mouth. “W-what?” She laughed the best she could, but it sounded fake as Gator’s last hookup’s breasts. “What are you talking about?”
He gave her a glacial look that made her reach for the scarf on instinct.
“P-cess, I grew up in the backwater swamps of Louisiana, tried and true hillbilly shit. Trust me when I tell you I can spot an abused woman from a mile away. You’re jumpy, you’re hanging closer to the women, you’re wearing a fucking scarf in the goddamn summer, and you’re wearing more makeup than I’ve ever seen you wear. ”
“I’m not an abused woman,” she snapped, glaring at him. What the hell did he know? Nothing. He knew nothing of her life or her situation. “I just found myself in a… bad situation.”
Wow, convincing, Beth.
Gator’s face softened, and he opened his mouth to speak. God, that look was worse than before.
“Do not pity me, Gator. Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Hey…” He reached over and took the cup from her, setting it down on the ground before taking her hands in his. “I don’t pity you, Beth. I’m sorry for what happened to you, and I’ll happily feed the pieces of his body to my alligators, but I do not pity you. I’m not that stupid.”
Her lips quirked. “He’s not dead,” she said as she pulled her hands from his grasp and picked up her beer.
“You fucking kidding me? Saint let him live?” His eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Find that fucking hard to believe. That motherfucker does not stand for that shit.”
“He… well, he fucked my boy… ex-boyfriend up, that’s for sure. But I made him stop before it went too far.”
Gator whistled. “Didn’t think anyone had that kinda power. You don’t know Saint well, hon. He hides behind his chill exterior, but there is some serious rage simmering under the hood. That man is possessive as fuck and will go apeshit on anyone threatening his family.”
“Huh.” Hundreds of questions filled her mind, but it didn’t feel right pumping Gator for information about Saint.
The man hadn’t pressured her to talk when she wasn’t ready.
Sussing out his story behind his back felt like an invasion of privacy he didn’t deserve.
Maybe one day, she and Saint would have a friendship where he could open up to her.
“I’m guessing Daddy Prez doesn’t know about this.”
“Why do you say that?”
Gator snorted. “Uh, because my ass is in this seat drinking a beer and chatting with you instead of heading to Texas with the entire club for an execution.”
“Oh…” Beth glanced down at her hand in her lap. The nails were a mess. She didn’t bother with fancy tips or designs since her hands were in water and dog fur all day, but she typically kept them neat and short. A few were chipped and jagged now, probably from struggling with Jason.
“P-cess, you know it’s fucking wrong to ask Saint to keep something this big from your old man, right? From his president. That kinda shit’s considered a betrayal and will get the patch stripped from his back.”
Her heart sank so low that it might be lying on the floor.
“I know,” she whispered, picking at the ragged edge of a chipped nail.
“I know I was wrong to ask him not to say anything. I just…” The tip of her nose tingled in a way that indicated tears would soon follow.
“Shit,” she whispered, shifting her gaze to the starry sky to keep them from falling.
“Is that why Saint didn’t stay? Is he worried Copper will be able to tell?
Or is he pissed at me for asking him to keep it a secret? ”
“Nope,” Gator said, popping the p with an exaggerated pooch of his lips. “Told you, he went to get his dick sucked.”
“Right.” Why did that make her feel worse?
It shouldn’t matter what Saint did or with whom.
They’d hung out for a few days while he did a pity job and rescued her from her abusive boyfriend.
The least the guy deserved was a night out and a hookup.
How selfish was she to assume he’d want to hang around her pitiful ass for another night?
Hell, for all she knew, he had a steady girlfriend who’d been missing him over the past few days.
“You’re hot, p-cess.”
She wrinkled her nose. “What?” Was there something more than alcohol in his cup? “What the hell are you talking about, and what’s it got to do with anything?”
Gator laughed long and loud. “Saint just spent two days with a sexy woman on the back of his bike, wrapped around him like a damn octopus. Then he had to sleep with the same sexy woman five feet away in a different bed. A woman he couldn’t touch if she were the last damn broad on earth.
The poor bastard needs some fucking relief.
What man wouldn’t? He might have the name, but trust me, he ain’t that kinda saint. None of us are.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she mumbled, but her face flamed to incendiary levels as she digested Gator’s words.
There was no way a gorgeous man like Saint found anything about her attractive over the past two days. She was an emotional and physical mess. Gator had to be wrong. Most likely, Saint hated the idea of keeping secrets from her father and was happy to be rid of her after two days glued to her side.
Of course, the man wanted a break, and he deserved one.
If the thought of him with some random woman bothered her, that was her own problem to get over.
“This a party for two, or is there room for one more?”
“Lindsey!” Beth flew out of her chair and threw herself at her friend, whom she hadn’t seen in far too long.
“I am so mad at you,” Lindsey mumbled as her words became muffled by Beth’s hair.
“I know, I’m a horrible friend. Please don’t hate me.
I’ll do better.” Adopted by Toni and Zach at thirteen, Lindsey had faced serious challenges in her early years.
She was about eight years older than Beth, who’d idolized her ‘older cousin’ growing up.
In her late teens, Lindsey went from someone she followed around like an adoring puppy to her closest friend.
Today, she was another person Beth alienated herself from, thanks to Jason.
All she could hope now was that Lindsey didn’t hold a grudge.
“Never. I love you too much.” Lindsey released her and sat in the free chair on Gator’s other side.
“So,” she said, narrowing her shrew eyes in Beth’s direction.
She pointed toward her own neck, indicating the scarf.
“Wanna tell me the real story and not this bullshit about being too busy with work to keep in touch?”
Shit. Why did everyone have to be so perceptive?