CHAPTER THREE #2
Exhaling, what I hope is all the stupid shit I can possibly say to this woman, I open my eyes.
“What I meant to say was…” I snap my mouth shut.
Nope. That ain’t it either, dumbass. Sticking my boot in my mouth and pissing off Badass Barbie, who’s hopefully still going to fix the mayor-size problem at Kitties, isn’t what I need to do.
“Can we start over?”
She eyes my hand like it’s a trap before finally slipping her tiny hand in mine. “Yeah. I’d like that. I’m Cali, but everyone calls me Foxy.”
Cali.
I tighten my hand around her soft palm, and my breath catches when a spark shoots up my arm. My eyes jump to hers as her brows shoot up in surprise. She felt it too.
When she tries to pull her hand free, I tighten my grip.
For reasons I don’t want to examine right now, everything inside me is screaming to keep her close.
“Tacoma,” I finally say, only it comes out more like a question.
Her eyes dance with humor, and she asks playfully, “Are you sure?”
Before I can tell her that I am, the sound of tires rolling across the gravel draws our attention. A silver Audi pulls through the gate and heads toward us.
Fuck! How could I forget the kids were coming back from their egg donors today?
Saylor and Jagger have been with Jennifer all weekend, a rare occurrence since she usually cancels at the last minute. Nothing new there. The bitch has been a ghost floating in and out of their lives since I got out five years ago.
I have custody of both kids—a miracle considering my record—while Jennifer gallivants around the country with her new husband, Kevin. The same motherfucker I caught her banging in our bed ten years ago.
A car door closing brings me out of my thoughts, and I can’t help but smile when my baby girl comes running toward me, her dark ponytail bouncing.
“Daddy!” she squeals, launching herself at me.
I catch her and grunt when she collides with my chest. “You’re too big to jump on me like that.”
She rolls her blue eyes that are a mirror image of my own. “You’re strong, daddy.”
I grunt in reply before asking, “You have a good time with your momma?”
Her shoulders go up. “It was okay.”
I glance over as Jagger starts to get out of his mother’s car, much less hyped to see his old man than his sister. He’s too cool now that he’s got his learners permit.
Out pops a booted foot, followed by another, before he stands to a towering six feet. The boy is a chip off the old block in the looks department. A carbon copy of myself. Something his grandmother has already been warning is going to be a problem.
Jen is the next to get out, still good-looking in that high-maintenance way of hers—bleached blonde hair, fake tan, designer clothes that cost a fucking whack. But her beauty is surface-level. On the inside, she’s the nastiest snake that ever slithered the earth, and selfish as fuck too.
Nose turned up, she struts over in heels that are sky high. “I won’t be able to get them next month,” she announces without so much as a ‘hey, how are ya’ first. “Kevin and I have a thing in Arizona.”
I feel Saylor stiffen in my arms, and anger surges through me.
Jen pulls this shit all the time. Always, blowing off our kids like they’re an inconvenience rather than her own flesh and blood.
It blows my fucking mind how she can go weeks on end without so much as a phone call.
She’s their goddamn mother, for fuck’s sake.
Truth be told, I’m surprised she actually showed up this weekend to get them. Usually, she calls at the last minute with some bullshit excuse.
“Of course you do,” I say, trying to keep my tone neutral for Saylor’s sake. “You good?” I ask my boy.
His eyes dart to Foxy, who’s silently watching this family reunion play out. “Yeah.”
Jen catches Jagger’s smirk and opens her mouth to no doubt give me a shoveling of her shit.
She’s always been jealous of other women.
It’s not like we’re still married. Just as she opens her mouth to say something that is probably going to piss me off, another car pulls through the gate, drawing all of our attention.
Awk, fuck. I do not have time for all this shit today.
Melanie pulls up in her flashy BMW and gets out, her eyes immediately darting between Foxy and my ex like she’s sizing up the competition. “Hey, baby,” she purrs.
Jennifer snorts. “Another one of your whores?”
“Don’t start.”
“Ya’ know… this is why we’re not married anymore.”
No. We’re not married anymore because she’s a whore who couldn’t be faithful to her man.
Jen looks from Foxy to Mel, turning up her nose.
Foxy’s eyes narrow, and I position my body slightly in front of her. As much as she deserves it, I can’t have her kicking the shit out of my ex in front of my kids. She’s still their mother.
Melanie scoffs, clearly affronted by being called a whore by someone she’s never met.
“Mom!” Jagger hisses.
Jennifer ignores him and turns to Saylor. “Bye, sweetie. Be good for your dad.”
My brows go up. Sweetie? I’m not sure who she’s putting on this show for. She usually doesn’t even get out of the fucking car. Just pulls up and lets the kids out.
Jen leans in to kiss our daughter, but Saylor ducks her face into my neck, avoiding the contact.
Her lips thin into a hard line at the brush off.
Not sure what she expected. This is the relationship she’s fostered since I got out.
“Bye, honey.” She tries to hug Jagger, but he lifts his shoulder, blocking her attempt.
“Whatever,” Jennifer snaps.
There’s the woman we’re used to. With a huff, she stomps back to her car and slams the door. The engine roars to life, and she speeds away, leaving a cloud of dust behind her.
Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, trying to calm myself.
I really don’t have time for bullshit today. There’s a body in my club, no doubt stinking up the place by now. I’ll probably never get the fucking smell of garlic and the Mayor out of the VIP room.
Opening my eyes, I train them on Melanie. “You need to leave. Something’s come up.”
Foxy chooses that moment to wave suggestively, as if she’s the “something” that’s come up. The corner of my mouth twitches despite the situation.
Melanie’s face contorts with anger. “Are you fucking kidding me? You told me to meet you here!”
“And now I’m telling you to leave,” I growl. I don’t owe her a fucking explanation. She’s not my woman. We fuck and she leaves. End of story.
“You’re an asshole, Tacoma,” Melanie spits.
“That’s a bad word,” Saylor pipes up, her voice muffled against my neck.
Melanie narrows her eyes at my daughter before turning on her heel and storming back to her car, much like my ex just did. In a cloud of dust, throwing up gravel, the BMW peels out of the compound.
“Sorry about that, princess,” I murmur to Saylor, setting her down gently.
“Who’s the chick?” Jagger asks, nodding at Foxy, who’s been watching the whole scene with barely concealed amusement.
“This is Foxy,” I say. “She’s... a business associate.”
“I’m helping your dad with a project,” Foxy adds smoothly, extending her hand to my son. “Nice to meet you.”
Jagger takes her hand and shakes it, which surprises me. He’s usually kind of an asshole around strangers, especially women I bring around.
“Jagger,” he says.
“And this is my girl, Saylor.”
Saylor peeks out from behind my back, suddenly shy. “Hi,” she whispers.
A loud bang draws all our attention to Foxy’s RV. Standing in one of the windows, surrounded by shredded mini-blinds, is what appears to be...
“Is that a raccoon?” I ask, not sure if I’m seeing things.
“For the time being,” Foxy sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m seriously thinking about turning him into a damn hat if he doesn’t stop tearing shit up.” She immediately grimaces and looks down at Saylor. “Shit.” She grimaces when she cusses again. “Sorry.”
Saylor giggles, and my lips turn up.
“Can we see it?” Jagger asks, surprising the fuck out of me.
“Please, can we?” Saylor adds, tugging on my hand.
I glance at my son, caught off guard by his interest in anything other than his phone.
“Sure,” Foxy says casually. “If it’s okay with your dad.” She looks at me and bites her lip, a gesture that sends another jolt of heat through me.
I consider it for a moment. “Yeah, but we gotta make it quick.” I give her a look, and her head tips subtly in understanding. We have a job to do. Soon rather than later.
Saylor squeals with delight as we follow Foxy up the steps into her RV.
Inside, I’m immediately impressed. This isn’t just any recreational vehicle—it’s a top-of-the-line, luxury house on wheels.
High-end finishes everywhere, from the polished wood cabinets to the granite countertops.
There’s a full kitchen, a living area with a large flat-screen TV, and what looks like a bedroom in the back.
The whole place is decorated in shades of black, white, and pink, with crystal accents that catch the light.
“Whoa,” Jagger breathes, eyes blown wide. “This is sick.”
“Thanks,” Foxy says, clearly pleased by his reaction. “I spend a lot of time on the road when I’m—” Her gaze shifts to me before going back to Jag. “Working. So I wanted it to feel like home.”
“This place must have cost a whack,” Jag says distractedly, eyeing the raccoon.
Saylor squeals again when Foxy reaches into what’s left of the window blinds and extracts the raccoon, holding it on her hip like a baby. The animal is surprisingly docile, looking around with curious dark eyes.
“Actually, it was a gift from a client,” she says, answering Jag’s question before introducing the rodent in her arms. “This is Panda.”
Saylor’s eyes are big as she watches Foxy with the animal. “Why did you name him Panda?”
“Because this little turd is a trash panda,” Foxy explains, scratching under the raccoon’s chin. “He loves getting into everything. Including garbage. He’s a scavenger.”
“What’s a scavenger?” Saylor asks, tipping her head up at me for an answer.
“It’s an animal that eats whatever it can find,” Jagger explains with the world-weary authority of a sixteen-year-old. “Like leftover food and stuff.”
Saylor screws up her nose. “Yuck.”
“You want to hold him?”
Saylor bounces on her toes. “Yes!”
Foxy transfers Panda to my girl, who cradles the animal gently. To my amazement, Jagger steps closer and pets its head, a genuine smile spreading across his face. When was the last time I saw him smile like that?
Badass Barbie is a damn miracle worker.
“Can we stay in here while you go do your job?” Saylor asks, looking up at Foxy with pleading eyes.
I place a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I have to leave for a little bit to help Foxy with her job, but you and Jag are going to go to Grandpa and Gigi’s house for a little bit.”
She sticks her lip out in a pout that normally gets her whatever she wants. “I don’t want to go. I want to play with Panda.”
Foxy’s face softens. “Why don’t you take Panda with you? I’ll pick him up when I’m done.” She glances at me, silently asking if that’s okay.
I hesitate, not sure how my Ma will feel about a raccoon in her house. But the way Saylor’s face lights up makes the decision for me.
“You sure?” I ask Foxy.
She nods. “He’s got a carrier, and he’s very well-behaved.” She shoots a look at the destroyed blinds. “Most of the time.”
I turn to Jagger. “Keep an eye on them?”
He shrugs, still petting the raccoon. “Sure.”
I shake my head slightly in disbelief. Yeah, Badass Barbie is a fucking angel, working miracles on my boy.
“Alright then,” I say, checking my watch. “Let me call my parents and let them know they’re coming over with a... special guest.”
As I step outside to make the call, I can’t help but glance back through the RV door, watching Foxy talk to my kids.
There’s something about her—beyond the obvious physical attraction—that’s got me intrigued.
She’s dangerous; that much is clear from how she handled Bane, but the way she’s acting right now with my kids. I wanna know more about this woman.
I dial my father’s number, already dreading the conversation about why I’m sending them a raccoon, but unable to keep the smile off my face.
Today has been one clusterfuck after another, but somehow, I’ve got a feeling things are about to get interesting.