11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
“Do you think Faye has killed your brother’s sidepiece yet?” Gray traces lazy circles on my arm.
“Guess I’ll find out when I go over there in the morning to pick her up. We’re going shopping.”
“You’re going to hang out with Faye?”
“Ew.” I scrunch up my nose. “No. I meant Jessika.”
“That makes more sense.”
“Do you think you’ll ever get married?”
“I knew Bill got into your head.”
“I’m only speaking in general. I don’t mean to me.”
I’m a shit liar.
“Maybe one day. If I ever meet the right woman.”
I reach over and grab him by the nipple, giving him a titty twister.
“Ow. Fuck.”
“I should go. Grannie Mags is probably waiting up for me, and I have to get up early to go spend Woods’ money.”
“I’m sure you’ll do a good job of it.”
“We all have our talents. Shopping just happens to be one of mine.”
“You have a lot of talents, do you?”
“I don’t get any complaints.”
“Who are you showing these talents to?”
“That falls under none of your business.”
“So it’s like that, huh?”
“Maybe. Who are you sharing your talents with?”
“Only you, pipsqueak.”
“Hmm.” I stare him down.
“What?”
“No more Kaylene?”
“I’ve been out of town and you’ve been with me. Where would I find the time for another woman?”
“Fair point.”
“Weren’t you going home?”
“Now you’re kicking me out.”
“I would never.”
“Do you think Bill is still up?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve got a thing for my old man.”
I punch him in the gut. “I don’t want him to see me sneaking out and think I’m a two-bit hussy.”
“One, he thinks we should get married. Two, all he has to do is look out the window and see your truck is still parked in the driveway. You didn’t leave your keys in it, did you?”
“No. Why?”
“Nothing. If you’re going home, I’ll walk you out.”
Right. Home. I grab my dress off his bedroom floor.
Gray sees me to my truck. “Drive safe.”
“I always do.”
“Good girl.” His lips brush my forehead. For a man who doesn’t date, he’s great at boyfriend-type behavior.
Jessika seems sweet. I picked her up earlier, but she doesn’t say much.
I practically had to twist her arm to get her to pick anything out.
I’m pretty sure she’s fucked my brother.
She hasn’t come out and said it, but whenever his name comes up in conversation, she gets this dreamy expression in her gaze.
Not that we’ve talked about much, with Foolish keeping tabs on every move we make or word we utter.
I know Jessika is running from her ex who has ties to a Mexican drug cartel, but we’re far from Anarchy.
I highly doubt the dudes after her are going to be in bumfucked Arkansas at an outlet mall of all places.
I envy her in a way. She has a fresh start in a new place with a man like my brother at her back. He’ll make sure she’s protected. It may also bring me joy to see Faye so rattled that someone might take her place and kick her off her high horse.
She thinks she’s better than the rest of us.
When she first came here, I overheard her talking shit about my Grannie Mags, who may be tough as nails, but everyone loves her.
She’s the matriarch of our family and Devil’s Creek.
She called her an old hick bitch, and I’ve owed her a good beat down ever since.
I didn’t have the heart to tell my brother because he’s never hit a woman and I was afraid Faye would become the first.
Grannie Mags raised us. She was more of a parent to us than our parents ever were. They’re still alive, but they cared more about drugs than they did their children. The best thing Uncle Hoss ever did was run our father out of the club and send them packing.
I was too young to remember much about them or care about their absence, but Woods, Dirty, and Fletcher were old enough to feel abandoned.
Austin has always thought he was better than the rest of us.
I swear they stole him from somewhere because he’s nothing like the rest of us.
And then there was our brother, Billy. God rest his soul.
He was the best of us, and we lost him far too soon.
When we get back to the clubhouse, there’s a party in full swing. If there’s one thing I know about these guys, it is that they love a good time. Woods is standing out on the porch waiting for us, only it isn’t Woods at all. It’s my other brother, Dirty.
I jump out of the truck and tackle-hug him. “Oh my word. What are you doing home?” I hug his neck and he gives my back a pat.
“Hey brat.” He ruffles my hair, but I don’t care. “I paroled.”
I’m so fucking happy he’s out, but a thought hits me. “Should you be here around the club?”
“Nope.” He grins, and I shake my head as he swings me around like he used to when I was a little thing. My big brother releases me as Jessika goes inside the clubhouse. “Who is she?”
“Long story, but she’s here on Big Daddy’s orders.”
“He loves sending us women, huh?” He laughs and glances around.
I frown at him. He’s probably looking for Faye. I don’t know what anyone sees in her.
“Let me get a good look at you. You’re all grown up.”
“I’ve not changed that much.”
“You finally grew into your head.”
“Shut up.”
I catch him up on Grannie Mags and life in general. Of course, I’d email him and do an occasional video chat, but that’s not the same as having him home with us.
He’s eager to get back to living his life, and who can blame him.
If I’d been locked up for three years, I’d be wanting to party it up.
But he has to watch it. He’s got two years of probation to serve.
Not that Fletcher would send him back. It’s him doing stupid shit outside of our county that matters.
It isn’t like the club is a group of choirboys. I know their real money comes from manufacturing and selling Diamond Dust. I do their books. I know where the money really comes from, even if it’s being laundered through legitimate businesses.
I leave Dirty to get his party on and go looking for Jessika. She’s hanging out watching Uncle Hoss play poker. Totally not my idea of a good time.
“Come on.” I tag her hand, and we head out back where the real fun is. Dottie is doing tattoos. The keg is flowing. The fire pit is blazing. Music blares from the speakers. There’s chaos and debauchery all around us.
Foolish hands me a drink and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “How are you doin’ tonight, beautiful?”
“Ask me again in an hour.”
He chuckles. “You gonna enter the wet t-shirt contest?”
I glance across the way at Gray. He hasn’t spoken to me all day. Not that I expect him to be up my ass. We’re doing this whole take things slow and private approach. Jessika says he keeps looking my way, but it must be when I’m not paying attention.
Silo announces the contest is starting, and of course all the guys line up with buckets of water to get in on the fun.
‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’, by ‘Def Leppard’ plays as Madz struts across the stage while water gets splashed at her, soaking her shirt through.
I glance down at my pale pink tank top and at Jessika in her yellow one. “Should we?”
“What?”
“There’s a cash prize.”
“Oh?” Her face lights up.
“Come on.” We make our way to the stage to get in line.
I tell Silo to play ‘Cherry Pie’ by ‘Warrant’.
I’m not going to flash my tits, but doing this is no different from the guys seeing me in a bathing suit. I have a bra on.
I saunter onto the stage, dancing and flipping my hair, waiting for the water to hit me.
It never comes because Gray storms the stage and flips me over his shoulder.
“Put me down.” I beat on his back as he carries me through the back door and up the stairs. He doesn’t stop until he’s tossing me on the bed in his room here.
“You just gotta piss me off, don’t you?” he’s pulling his cut and shirt off where someone got him with the water.
“I don’t know what the big deal is. It’s not any different from wearing a bathing suit.”
“You think your brothers want to see you up there flashing your goods for the whole fucking club to lust after? You think I want them looking at my woman?”
I smile big. “You called me your woman.”
“Shut up. I’m still pissed at you.” He pulls on a clean t-shirt and lights up a cigarette.
“I’ve never been in here before.” I glance around his room, noting how clean it is.
“You’re the only woman I’ve brought here.”
“I’m the first?”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“So you’ve not had sex with anyone in this bed?”
“No.”
I raise a brow at him and smooth the blanket with my hand.
“I should take my belt to your ass.”
I roll over and shake my ass at him.
“Fuck, Low.”
“What?” I bat my lashes.
“Get up. We should go back to the party.”
“Or we could stay here and have a party of our own.” I pull my shirt over my head.
“Your brother is going to notice if we don’t go back.”
“Which one?”
“Does it matter?”
“I mean Dirty is off having a good time and I suspect Woods is too caught up in his weird love triangle with Faye and Jessika to care what we’re doing.”
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
“Not yet.”
“Put your shirt on, Low.”
“I thought you wanted to spank me.”
Heat flares in his gaze as he turns off the light. The lock behind him clicks. I hear his boots hit the floor, followed by his belt buckle.
I can’t see him. The room is pitch-black. The mattress dips, then his hand is around my throat. “Why can’t I say no to you?”
I don’t answer.
I simply seek out his mouth. I can’t get enough of him. The longer he puts off fucking me the more I’m determined to break his resolve. I don’t know why he’s so worried about my virtue or whether or not he deserves me. I get to say who and when, and I choose him.
I’ll always choose him.
I wonder if tonight will be the night he gives in, or if this is all a game to him.
To see how long he can hold out or if he’s somehow punishing himself.