Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
CARBON
Scribbling notes into the application, I highlight another section of concern, smiling internally as I know my client will be thrilled.
I love sticking it to assholes who try to take advantage.
Rolling my neck, I look around the empty clubhouse office.
Being here alone is always weird because it happens so rarely, but when it does, I find myself really fucking productive.
A tap comes at the door. I call out, hitting save on my last note. “Yeah?”
The door pushes open and Felt Tip stands there. “There is some chick at the gate.”
He holds his phone up as if I can see the text from the prospect at the gate. “Okay, and?”
He shrugs. “Want me to handle it?”
I look down at the real estate contract I am reviewing. I shove to my feet deciding that I should stand and move around because I am seeing that I have been at this for three hours straight. “Eh, nah.”
Making my way out to the front of the clubhouse, noting all the chin bumps and ‘heys’ I get, but not really acknowledging them—they don’t expect me too either.
Everyone thinks I’m an asshole and it’s better for them to think that.
I talk when I want to, I do what I want to, and I manage what I want to.
I like who I like, and that’s that. Shoving the front door open, I step out into the bright afternoon light.
A woman is standing with Jax at the gate, she isn’t very big, but I am digging her style from here.
She has on a black skirt that seems to float a little with the breeze, some oddly tall chunky shoes, and a frilly white top, that shows off a massive amount of ink on her body.
I fucking love women with tattoos.
Getting closer, she has her dark hair piled high on her head with her cute little bangs catching in the breeze much like her skirt.
Pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head, her eyes meeting mine as I hit the gate and fuuuuccckkkkk.
I have seen beautiful women, but this woman is stunning.
She is hands down the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.
I am not at all disappointed that I decided to come out to manage this situation.
Jax holds out what looks like a picture. “She is looking for him.”
I take the picture as I keep my eyes on her, her perfectly sculpted dark eyebrow lifts, catching some of her fringe.
She clearly favors eye makeup, but it suits the fuck out of her.
If she was in all black, she would come across as pretty-girl goth, but with the frilly white top, that is super low cut, showing off the swell of perfect little tits and a broad chest tattoo—fuck, what was I doing?
Shaking my head I try to focus. I let my eyes drop to the picture in my hand.
“You lookin’ for Hanger or Peppermint?” I ask.
I catch her eyes widening as I look back up. “Hanger or Peppermint… uhm… which one is which?”
What the fuck? “What do you mean which one is which?”
She points to the picture. “The man and the boy… you are saying one is Hanger and one is Peppermint?”
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask feeling frustrated with myself for snapping at her.
I want to invite this girl in and get to fucking know her before I take her up to my room and enjoy the rest of the day inside her instead of doing legal work.
I let my eyes move over her petite body because it is weird that I want to get to know her first, but fuck this woman checks every fucking box.
“You are saying that the boy in that picture is part of this club too,” her voice firms.
“Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?” I demand, my hackles going up, but I am surprised when I notice hers are too. Her hands clench at her sides. A scowl appears on her face.
“I want to see Hanger or Peppermint, both preferably.” She straightens her spine and lifts her chin.
Fuck that’s hot. I find myself growling. What the fuck is going on with me? “Not happening until you tell me who the fuck you are—” I bite off the word I almost threw out there. Sexy. I almost called this woman sexy. What the fuck? I don’t call women pet names. I try to internally shake myself.
Her foot stamps on the ground, which gets me to lift my own brow at her as her scowl deepens. “Why should I tell you anything about myself?”
I almost chuckle, but I know doing that will send her over the edge she is trying really hard to keep herself from going over.
She is almost vibrating with her frustration with me, and I have to admit, I am not sure why she is so easily agitated.
She doesn’t seem the type—even with my limited experience with her.
My eyes dip down to the picture of Mint, clearly about the age when I met him in kindergarten.
My eyes lift back up to this stunning fucking woman and it slams me right in the fucking chest. She has all of Hanger’s coloring.
She looks like she could be Mint’s pretty little sister. Fuck me.
“Just give me your name,” I ask as gently as I can muster, which means I likely sound flat or annoyed.
I am shit at calming situations down, this is why I normally keep my mouth shut.
I am better at instigating shit. Funny that they made me arms, but I guess it is because I don’t put up with shit and am decisive as fuck.
I make a decision and fuck anyone who doesn’t agree, they will live by it.
Her jaw clenches a couple times, her pert lips purse a moment before she finally speaks, using words that give me the least amount of insight a person can give. “Harry.”
“Harry. Your name is Harry?” I question feeling like this cannot possibly be. This woman is the most gorgeous woman to grace the fucking planet, and someone decided to name her Harry?
“Yes,” she snaps at me. I can see Jax taking a couple steps back, he can see we aren’t getting anywhere fast and that she is clearly a walking talking ticking time-bomb.
“Fine. Alright. Whatever, Harry. Neither of them are here,” I snap back feeling angry because I fucking know this is Hanger’s kid.
This woman is absolutely Mint’s sister and that means she is off fucking limits.
I will never get a chance with her and fuck that makes me feel pissed.
Really fucking pissed. Fuck me with a broken fucking broomstick.
“Not here as in, currently, or they are not with San Jose?” She clamps her hands on her small hips, the frustration radiating off her.
“I’ll answer that, when you tell me what you want with them.
” The smirk I flash her way clearly gets under her skin.
Good. Keep her pissed and no one will know the dirty fucking thoughts running through your damn mind.
Fuck do I want to rip those damn clothes off her and trace every tattoo with my tongue.
I bet her skin tastes incredible, a hint of salt, and like fucking moonlight.
Goddamn this woman is everything I have ever desired—smart mouth included.
“If I answer, will you have the ability to call them, and if you do, will you call them right now so I can…” she trails off, seemingly stuck on the next part, like she hasn’t really considered what comes next.
Her hands drop at her sides, and her feet wobble a tiny bit in her tall ass shoes.
My heart squeezes at seeing the mix of emotions flash across her face.
My heart fucking squeezes.
What in the motherfucking hell?
The one thing ringing loudest in my head is that she is in a vulnerable place. If Hanger is her dad, he doesn’t know about her. I know Mint doesn’t. Shit… this is going to be a fucking mess.
“Harry, is Hanger your daddy?” I decide to give her a simple way out.
Her pretty hazel eyes meet mine, her head bobs and I see her work a lump down her throat. “Hanger is the man then?”
I nod. “Peppermint is the boy, though he isn’t a boy anymore.”
“How old is he?”
“Same as me, thirty-three, almost thirty-four,” I tell her trying to not poke anymore at her because seeing her like this feels all kinds of wrong. I want her to throw up her anger again, I don’t like seeing her feel unsure.
“His mom?—”
“Alive and a massive cunt,” I tell her.
She nods. “Half then.”
I motion to the picture. “That your mom?”
“Massive cunt, but yeah,” she supplies, a smile throws up her face. “I guess Hanger has a type.”
I bark out a laugh. Here we go. Good girl, this is the side I want back. “Seems so. Come on. I’ll give Hanger a call. Mint is in San Diego right now.”
Jax steps forward, opening the gate for her, she shifts and heads in. I motion toward the front door, she follows me, both of us silent until I get her back to the office, closing the door behind her. “Take a seat.”
Grabbing my phone out, I hit dial on Hanger’s number. He picks up fast. “Carbon.”
“Hey, I uh…” I look at Harry, her eyes are focused intently on me. “There is a woman here looking for you.”
“Name?” he asks.
“Harry.”
“A woman named Harry is at the clubhouse looking for me? What the fuck is this about?” he grits out.
“She has a picture of you, Mint is about five in the picture with a pretty blonde,” I supply, hoping it helps get this moving.
“Five… pretty blonde. Her name ain’t Harry, it’s Pam,” he grumbles. “Fucking cunt. She stole ten grand from me and ran off.”
I motion to the picture and look at Harry. “Pam?”
She nods.
“Pam is her mom,” I tell Hanger. “I’m gonna guess this woman is somewhere in her late twenties.”
“You trying to tell me something? Fucking fuck. Fuck, Carbon. You telling me I have a kid I don’t know about? Fuck. No—really? Fuck. Fuck. She is, isn’t she?” I can hear some rubbing sounds on his end.
“I think so,” I tell him.
“Why now?” he asks. “Fuck, I have a girl? Really? A fucking… wow. Shit. And she grew up with Pam? She okay? Fucking hell. Shit. Poor kid.”
My eyes drop to the photo then pop back up to Harry. Sounds like she rightfully has a chip on her shoulder. “She didn’t say. Maybe you should come down?”
“Yeah. Fuck. Keep her there. I’m on my way. Don’t call Ricky.” He hangs up.