Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
TRIXIE
“What the hell happened to you?”
Freak stumbles into my room with a half empty bottle of Jack swinging from his fingers, and he’s sporting a big lopsided grin. He pauses at my question, and slurs, “Brothers wanted to celebrate.”
I notice his free hand is cupping his dick, and not in a sexual way, more to give himself support. “By using you as a football?” I then wince as my eyes fall on the red raw lines around his wrists, and my hand covers my mouth. “You freaked out, didn’t you?”
He starts to sway, I grab the whiskey seconds before he slumps down on the bed, trying to smother my groan as he makes the mattress bounce, causing agony to my ribs.
“Hey, wake up. Don’t you dare go to sleep on me.” I’ve been here anxiously waiting for news, while he’s been getting drunk. He’s still wearing his cut which means he’s still in the club, and his enforcer patch is in the same place it always is. “What happened at the meeting?”
His lips turn up more, baring his teeth. If I didn’t love him, I’d find his inebriated expression verging on grotesque. But unfortunately, I do. He’s owned my heart for a very long time and so I’ll forgive him. As long as he tells me what happened.
“If you don’t tell me, Freak, I swear you’ll get another kick to your balls.”
“Washn’t a kick, was a phist.”
“Freak,” I warn.
“Come give your ol’ man a kiss.”
If he is my old man… Christ, this is like pulling teeth. “Am I your old lady?”
“No one else is.”
Suddenly, he sits up, placing his palm on my cheek, his eyes surprisingly sober. And while his words are stilted, they’re clearer. “I’ll never hurt you, Trix. Yeah, I freaked out, but not with you. Never with you.”
Leaning into his touch, I place the arm on my uninjured side around him as far as I can reach. “I know you won’t, Freak.” If he was going to freak out and hurt a woman, Toni wouldn’t have walked away free. “I take it they were being assholes?”
His pronouncement over, drunk Freak appears again. “Yep.”
I nudge him gently. “You get any good licks in?”
“Don’t want to t-t-talk about it.”
Which means he didn’t. Good. At least there won’t be any work for Bronwyn tonight, and no apologies to make in the morning. But there’s one thing I want to know, because it seems there’s a dead man walking. “Who punched your balls, Freak? Who damaged my property?”
“My balls are yours,” he says, while slipping out of my hold and collapsing back on the bed. “It was Short.”
Hmm. Where can I get hold of bromide? Is that something Bronwyn would have? But then she’s unlikely to give it to me without explanation, and how can I explain I want to chemically castrate her husband? Or was bromide proved to be only an old war rumour? I forget.
Freak’s snores show working dick or not, he’s going to be of no use to me today. Not that I’m up to it, my ribs are throbbing with that soul-destroying ache like an exposed nerve in a tooth.
I can’t rest, and it’s only late afternoon. Leaving Freak to sleep his inebriation off, I decide to go to the clubroom, and get something to eat. Sighing, I realise that if the other club girls haven’t got their asses in gear, I’ll end up cooking for everybody.
I exit my room, go through the bunkhouse, then along the path. When I enter the clubroom, Pippa and Bronwyn rush over to me. Pippa goes to wrap her arms around me, but stops when Bronwyn shouts.
“Bruised ribs,” she hisses. Then, to me, she says as she gently takes hold of my arm and steers me toward the bar. “Let’s celebrate.”
“Celebrate?”
Pippa rolls her eyes. “You’re one of us now, an old lady.” Her eyes narrow. “Or was Freak too pissed to tell you?”
I come to a halt. Shaking my head, I realise I hadn’t thought this through or realised exactly what being Freak’s meant. Am I really now like Pippa and Bronwyn?
“Congrats, Trix.” When Saint appears, carrying baby Jade in a sling slung over his shoulder, and holds out his hand for me to shake, I realise he’s giving me the respect that’s always been missing.
“Girl, we have really got to get you some new clothes,” Pippa announces, while unable to resist leaning forward to check that Jade’s comfortable and sleeping.
What? I look down at myself. Oh, yeah. I’m still wearing some of the only clothes I possess, a too-short skirt, and a top that barely covers my midriff.
“We’ll go shopping tomorrow,” she decides. “You coming, Bron?”
“If you can wait until I get off shift, I’d love to.” She casts an assessing glance over me. “You need jeans, shorts.”
“I got shorts,” I protest.
Bronwyn rolls her eyes. “Ones that cover your ass cheeks.”
“And I thought being an old lady was simple,” I mock moan.
But inside I’m excited. In my old life I used to wear nice things, though, when I was living with Piero, I had to wear what pleased him.
When I joined the Kings, I’d had nothing, only a few borrowed clothes.
I’d been grateful to be provided with a wardrobe that fitted my new position.
With my life limited to staying close to the clubhouse in case anyone recognised me, I’d not often ventured out, and had managed to save most of the money for necessities and extras that the club had given me.
What better to spend my money on, than new clothing? I start looking forward to tomorrow.
They both laugh at me, and this time, when they approach the bar, I go with them.
Poor Knight is running around trying to make the mock cocktails that the still-nursing Pippa describes to him for her, and the full-bodied ones for me, while Bronwyn sticks to soda. I’m halfway through my third Sex on the Beach, when a thought occurs to me.
“It’s Ace’s sixteenth at the end of the month. I’d like to throw him a party. Can we get some shit to decorate the clubhouse?”
“Ace’s birthday?” Bronwyn squeals. “After the last few days, he deserves to have a good celebration. Count me in.”
“Me too,” states Pippa, then adds, sheepishly, “I’d forgotten it was coming up so soon.”
Overhearing, Saint leans over, tapping his head. “Baby brain,” he says, in his best mansplaining voice. “Makes you forgetful.”
“I’ll give you fucking baby brain,” Pippa snarls as she leaps off her barstool.
Putting a protective hand over Jade’s head, Saint’s eyes go wide as starts backing away saying defensively, “I’ve got the baby.”
“You won’t be carrying her all night,” Pippa warns.
I smother my laugh with my hand. From the way Saint’s acting, I think he just might.
Short appears, immediately approaching Bronwyn, and pulls her into his side.
The stark difference in their heights still makes me smile.
Even sitting on a barstool, she looks like a child in his arms. But I’m beyond delighted her story had a happy ending, even if I’m not so enamoured of her husband right now.
As I proceed to inform him. “Hey, Short?” Still holding Bronwyn, he turns. “You,” I point to him, “me,” I point to myself, “we got a problem.”
He frowns, and scratches his head.
“Swollen balls give you any clues?”
“Oh, fuck,” he winces. “Freak tell you that?”
“There are no secrets between me and my old man,” I spit out, relishing that I can claim the ownership. “And as you damaged my property, I’ll be wanting revenge.”
“Hey, girl, we’re going to fall out if you touch my man’s balls,” Bronwyn warns me, but there’s a glint in her eye. Then she grins. “But in the spirit of girl solidarity, I’ll make him go without tonight.”
“What?” Short rounds on his wife.
She’s unrepentant. “What? It’s only fair. You made it so Freak can’t perform, and tonight is Trixie’s celebration. It’s her you hurt.”
This time both of his hands brush over his head. “Aww, fuck, Trix. I’m so damn sorry. But it was the only way to make him stop. He’d have killed someone…”
“Short, stop,” I start giggling. “I’m fuckin’ with you. But,” I chase all mirth from my face and put on my best schoolmarmish expression, “You touch my man’s balls again, and I’ll be coming for you.”
“Who’s talking about balls? Hey, babe. Don’t know how the fuck you snagged Freak, not sure if I should congratulate or commiserate with you.” Rattler plants a sedate kiss to my cheek.
“Hey, she’s here. The woman of the hour. Our very own hero, the woman who walked through hell for the club, and when she came out, as an encore she tamed the beast.” Tempest walks up and goes to put his arm around me.
“Ribs!” Bronwyn shouts.
One by one all the brothers come up to congratulate me, and have Knight running ragged, as they ply drinks on me.
Not a few mention they’re going to miss me, reminiscing about, apparently some of the best sex and blow jobs they’ve had.
I begin to be grateful they’re getting it all off their chests now, while Freak’s not about.
“Hey, what are we missing?” Ace appears with Trip in tow. Trip’s holding on tight to a piece of paper. “Show it to your daddy, little cuz.”
Short spins around, picks up his son and plants him on the bar stool next to his mom. “What you got there, buddy?”
Trip passes over a picture he’s drawn of Short, Bronwyn and him together. It’s amazing, so detailed it almost looks like a photograph.
“That’s so good, kid,” Short tells him, and when he raises his gaze to Bronwyn, I see he’s got tears in his eyes. Then he shakes his head. “Thanks, Ace, for watching him.”
Trip’s talent is drawing. Ace’s is his intelligence. As he looks around, he tilts his head to one side, and asks, “What are you all celebrating?” His eyes become slits. “And where’s my dad?”
I sigh. “Your dad started his celebrations a little early. He’s sleeping it off.”
Ace waves his hand in circles, indicating he wants more.
Suddenly, irrationally concerned Ace might have reservations, even though he’d seemed okay with it last night, I hesitate before adding, “I’m now officially your dad’s old lady.”
All eyes are on him as we wait for his reaction.
Ace seems stunned. For a moment he does nothing.
Then, he pumps his fist in the air. “Yes!” He launches himself at me, only just stopping when he remembers my sore ribs.
He settles for placing his hands on my arms. “Trix, does that mean I can now really call you mom?”
Pippa leans in and speaks quietly into my ear so that only I can hear, “That kid’s so getting the best birthday party ever.”
But I can’t take the words in. I can’t even speak. The tears are clogging my throat. All I can do is pull Ace in close to me, and give him my answer without using words.