Chapter 2
Jonathan “Ranger” Cross
Lottie’s house has too many fucking people in it. The noise level is giving me a headache, and the fear I have over one of our friends being in trouble makes it worse. I do my best work when left alone with the facts and being able to walk my way through everything.
I don’t think her dad has anything to do with the shit going on in town. But I do think there’s something seriously fucked up about that family, and I’m glad Tiny finally pulled his head out of his ass and realized he was the perfect guy for Lottie.
Watching my friends fall for their perfect matches sucks sometimes. But that’s only because my perfect match turned out to be a two-timing whore. These guys obviously have better bullshit detectors than I do, because there’s no way in hell any of these women would fuck over their men. Except Davis. It took him an extra-long time to get his head out of his ass and realize what he was missing.
I’m about to leave when the door opens and a whirlwind comes rushing in. A tornado yelling at everyone and demanding information with blonde hair and pink tips comes to a stop in front of Tiny.
This is his sister?!
She’s a walking disaster in a pint-sized package. I know Tiny told me her name, but he always calls her Pixie, and if that ain’t the fucking truth. She’s like a real-life Tinkerbell. Short, small but firm looking tits, and a bubble butt that just begs for attention, and big, blue eyes that look like they can suck the soul out of anyone who dares to make eye contact.
“What?” Lottie asks quietly, not looking directly at me, which is good. Who knows what my face is saying.
“That’s his sister?”
“That’s Elle,” she confirms.
“And you thought she’d be a good match to rent the studio to?”
“I did.”
“Have you lost your fucking mind? In what world did you think she’d be a good fit for above the shop?” I demand, knowing my voice is rising with each word as I feel the anger rising.
“No, Ranger, I haven’t lost my fucking mind. You have a space. I have a friend that needs that space. You don’t have to ever see her if you don’t want to.”
Lottie is mad. At me. I hate making her mad. She’s the nicest person on the earth with the biggest heart. Fuck.
I feel a tap on my arm and look over…and down into the angry face of Tink herself.
“Umm, hi. Yeah, all I know is that you’re talking about me, and I generally hate when people do that, so could you not be a douche-canoe and stop?”
“A douche-can…” I can’t even finish the word. Who the fuck is this girl?
We face off, glaring at each other. I don’t know why I’m so mad at her, but her entire existence pisses me off.
“Enough!” Joker yells, getting everyone’s attention. I finally break the stare I have with Elle. “You two can have your little bitch fight later. Ranger, suck it up and let the one without a penis into your fucking space. She needs this, you need this, get the fuck over yourself and deal. Tiny, did you fill everyone who missed anything in on what’s going down?” He pauses for Tiny to nod his head. “Good. Then let’s get this show and tell on the road. I have places to be.”
I narrow my eyes at Joker, who smirks back before going over everything he needs to with Lottie. I make myself as invisible as I can and lean against one of the walls, watching everyone. I knew Elle had been in town and staying with Tiny, but I didn’t realize she was so ingrained with the women already. Ginny and Trish surround her, asking about the benefit her family put on last week and getting caught up. Davis leans against the wall next to me, not taking his eyes off of Trish.
“I hear she’s not that bad,” he says in a quiet voice so no one can hear us.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want her there.”
He blows out a breath, chuckling at my distress. “You think that matters?”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t put up a fight.” I side-eye him.
“Take her money. Overcharge her if it makes you feel better. But you have the space, and Tiny knows it’ll be safe.”
“Yeah, cause he wants me to fucking babysit her.”
“You know you don’t have to do what everyone wants, right?”
“Except rent out my studio to some chaotic—” I cut myself off when Elle laughs at something the women say, “loud, anti-me.”
“Except that. And who knows, maybe you’ll find out she’s not so bad. You might even become,” he gasps dramatically, “friends.”
“Asshole,” I chuckle.
I watch the group in the room, my eyes straying to Elle more than I’m comfortable admitting. She’s a beautiful woman, there’s no doubt about that. When she smiles, her face lights up, but it’s in her stillness that she’s stunning. Those seconds don’t last long, but in those times, there’s a depth to her that one would miss if they weren’t looking for it. And I’m not looking for it, damn it. I move my gaze to Trish, who is absentmindedly rubbing her belly.
“Everyone excited about the baby?” I ask Davis, tipping my chin Trish’s way.
“Oh, yeah.” He nods. “Lucas has already picked out the nursery colors. Harper is making a list of books they have to have and Owen is working on a list of names.”
“Names, huh? What’s at the top of his list?”
“Ah, if it’s a boy, the current top name is Hades or Spartacus and if it’s a girl Persephone.”
“Should I ask?”
“He’s been binging the History channel where he got Spartacus and he read a book about Hades and Persephone.”
“So next week you’re going to give him a book about a David and Melissa?”
“Something like that,” he agrees with a laugh. “But, yeah, everyone’s excited. And we have the wedding we need to plan. Mom didn’t even cry much when we said we wanted to do it on the beach over in Diamond Cove.”
“Your mom is a peach, man.”
“She really is.”
“Let me know when, and I’ll be there. Just need enough time to close up the shop.”
“You know we wouldn’t do it without all of you. If it weren’t for you all, who knows what our lives would look like today.”
“You’d have found your way back to each other without us.” I wave him off.
“Maybe,” he agrees.
We move on to talk about basic bullshit, and when I notice Lottie and Tiny getting antsy, I lead the charge to get out of there. If they need my help, they’ll let me know, and until then, it’s always best to stay out of the way.
Home with a beer in my hand and my ass on the couch with silence is my paradise. After the Army and then being in the hospital for so long after the accident with those noises, I enjoy the silence. At the shop, the buzz of the tattoo guns don’t bother me, it’s like white noise. It shuts out all the chaos and I can focus on what I’m doing.
I don’t think of Vanessa often anymore, but meeting Elle for the first time has me reflecting on my life and where it went so horribly wrong. Because she lied to me, because she did what she did, I blame the aftermath on her. And my brother. I blame me being on the road in Georgia instead of in the sandbox on them. But even more than that, I can’t find a way not to blame her for losing a few of my men and the injury of more, since I wasn’t there with them. Survivor’s guilt is a real thing, that’s for sure.
Before I can spiral into a pit of despair, my phone rings.
“What do you want?” I answer. Anyone calling me tonight at this time should know I’m not in the mood to talk to more people.
“Fuck you, asshole,” Joker replies.
Out of all the guys, he understands me more than most. His own demons keep him up for days on end, his eyes haunted, like mine. Like Elle’s looked in her seconds of stillness. And there I go thinking about Elle again.
“What do you want?” I repeat.
“I want you to tell me exactly what the problem you have with Tiny’s sister is.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.
“Fuck off with that shit. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“I just don’t want to be stuck playing caretaker to a little girl who thinks she’s grown.”
“She might be short, but she’s not a little girl.”
“Why are you defending her so much? What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything but peace, man. We already have to deal with fucking Keith. Don’t make me play referee for you, too.”
“Fuck off with that. We all know why you don’t like Keith, and it has nothing to do with the fact he’s a fucking asshole.”
“You don’t know shit,” he growls. “But you could use the funds her rent would bring in, and you know it. Maybe finally get that shithole you call a house fixed with that income?”
I look around my living room. I bought the three-bedroom fixer-upper when I moved here, fully intending to get lost in the renovations. But that never happened. And I hate to admit it, but he’s right. Getting some rent from that studio would help me get started on this place or hire the job out.
“Think Tiny would trade me? I’ll keep an eye on his sister and he can fix up my house.”
“You know we’d all be there to help you with the house if you’d just ask. But don’t dig yourself a hole you can’t back out of, you feel me?”
“Yeah, I feel ya. I’ll try not to be so much of an asshole and I’ll think about renting her the space. That good enough?”
“For now.”
We end the call as I finish my beer. Leaving the bottle on the living room table, I turn off the lights on my way to the bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it needs some work. Everything is bland in here, devoid of color. The wallpaper that was hung at least a hundred years ago has faded and probably started peeling twenty years back. The floors need some serious work, and all the wiring and pipes in the house need to be updated. I’ll get around to it. Eventually.
I take off my clothes, looking at the scars on the left side of my body. Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths, acknowledging that my life could be much worse than it is. I could still be married to that two-timing bitch. I could still be listening to the lies of my brother. I wouldn’t be surrounded by friends that are more like my actual brothers than the one I’m related to. And I never would have met a pint-sized pixie of a woman with the loudest laugh and the most haunting eyes I’ve ever seen.