Chapter 11
Nolan
Fuck Monday mornings.
I swear to God they come too fast.
It’s impossible not to smirk over a new thought as I exit my bathroom.
Guess the same shit could be said about me last night.
But unlike Monday, which I expect to arrive after Sunday, I didn’t predict The Kid would physicallyprove his point.
That he’d put our girl on her knees.
Make her suck his cock while I watched.
Bust a nut in her mouth and then demand I lick the shit off her tongue.
The fact I came in my work pants during that kiss should’ve been fucking embarrassing.
Hell, the fact I was so desperate to taste another man’s cum the way I was should’ve been shameful shit.
Like never tell another living soul I have those feelings level of shameful shit.
But fuck me…I’d never wanted anything in my mouth that bad in my whole entire life.
And the worst part is none of it felt wrong to me.
Not letting him have control.
Not letting him keep control when he instructed Bunny to crawl on my lap and give me a proper welcome home after a hard day.
Not even blowing my load when he pulled her hair as he called me Sir.
No.
All of that shit felt right.
Like the epitome of right.
And that – ironically – feels wrong.
Because this shit should be wrong.
I’ve got more than a fucking decade on him in age and experience, not to mention fucking common sense.
It’s my job…my responsibility to help care for him.
Not come for him.
I need to get my shit together.
I need to get our lives back on track.
Restore order.
And stability.
And sanity.
Stop all this shit before it spirals out of control.
Uh…more out of control.
Flings are fun…can be fun…should be fun…but it needs to stop here.
Now.
…Right?
Entering our small kitchen occurs in tandem with Kipp doing the same.
Under normal circumstances watching him put on his dark gray mechanic shirt post a shower wouldn’t be something that happened yet at this moment? At this very fucking moment? It’s the only thing I seem capable of fucking doing. While the fitted fabric does a dick rising job of clinging to his wet muscles, it’s gawking at the water droplets themselves that are tumbling downward, outlining his pecks and abs and every sharp curve a guy his age is proud to have that has my cock kicking for his touch.
You know I used to have all that shirtless in a shitty movie shit too.
I mean…I still do.
To an extent.
It’s there…it’s just not there like it used to be.
Hm.
Maybe I should hit the weights a little harder this week.
Give The Kid a little more to look at if we keep this going.
Fuck…can we really keep this shit going?
Is it the best idea?
Honestly…it isn’t the worst idea and that’s saying something.
But what happens when Bunny is ready to hop along to her next adventure?
Fuck the next pair of saps who couldn’t resist helping a hot girl with what I just assume are daddy issues and car trouble?
Do we…just…find another chick to fill her place?
Is there even another chick that could?
And why the fuck do I have this pinched nerve nagging that tells me that’s not only not happening but impossible because she is it for us?
The only one.
Our one and only.
Fuck, I need a drink.
“Mornin’,” The Kid greets just above a whisper, aiming not to wake up the sleeping beauty still nakedly sprawled out on the living room floor.
Also, his decision.
Apparently, he didn’t appreciate the first slumber party in the apartment excluding his ass, so he commanded we all crash on the floor together instead. I objected and bitched and groaned; however, truth be told, that shit did wonders for my back although listening to him claim we need to go bed shopping for one that fits all three of us did not do wonders for my sleep.
I mean…seriously.
Talking about that type of shit is a bit much after one weekend, isn’t it?
“Not gonna say it back, old man?” Kipp playfully pokes while reaching for one of the mugs near the machine. “Blow out more than just your sack last night?”
“Less yap, more caff, Kid,” I taunt in return, stare doing its best not to admire how snug his jeans currently are.
They didn’t used to be.
What’s he been doing?
Shrinking that shit to impress our temporary houseguest?
Me?
Small chortles precede him filling the cup, adding sugar, stirring, and sauntering over. Upon his arrival, he slowly extends the offering out to me. “Where ya headed?”
“Farthest edges of Spike Village.” Our fingers briefly brush, and it takes every bone in my body to swallow the groan it conjures. “Just outside my usual limits.”
Confusion causes his face to twitch. “Why are you going if it’s out of your limits?” Concern claws its way into his crystal gaze. “You uh…You need the work that bad? Was the weekend really that slow?”
Fuck. Me. I can’t stand to see him worried whether it’s about money or food or females or…evidently…his own goddamn feelings.
I know what he’s really asking.
He knows what he’s really asking.
He just needs to stop playing with it like he ain’t afraid of going blind.
“Ask me what the fuck it is you really wanna ask me, Kid.” I lift my mug to my lips to have a single sip. “I mean…you had enough balls to sit in the driver’s seat last night, didn’t you? Have enough balls to sit in it this morning.”
“I don’t always need to drive, Nolan.”
“But clearly you don’t need a learner’s permit anymore.”
Frustration has him flashing me a small glare. “I would just appreciate you sharing the goddamn wheel every once in a while.”
“Then consider this as me sharing.” Another gulp is attached to a snide smirk. “I took a job somewhere I normally don’t.”
“Why? To avoid dealing with me this morning?”
Pride spurs me to straighten my spine.
See.
He can do it.
“I don’t need to avoid you, Kipp.” Relief has his tightened shoulders lowering, leading me to plant my free hand on one. Squeeze. Smile wider. “I just need to avoid her.”
“Fuck you, Mutt,” Bunny mumbles from across the room informing us both she’s awake.
She’s been awake.
The woman isn’t nearly as sneaky as she thinks she is.
“Mornin’, Rabbit,” I warmly call out in return prompting Kipp to shake his head.
“Mornin’, Kid,” she sweetly coos, redirecting our gaze her direction.
“Mornin’, baby,” he adoringly croons. “I’ll bring you coffee in a minute.” My hand falls from his frame during the proclamation only to have him lightly catch it right above my wrist. “Come on. Be Maserati real with me, Nolan. Why this job?”
I’m not sure if the mindless confession is caused by the sincerity in his voice or the care in his touch. Either way I feel overly compelled to give it. “No one else would pick it up.”
He quirks an eyebrow in a silent request for further information at the same time he relinquishes his hold.
“Dude’s been stranded since three.” An innocent shrug is wedged between statements. “I was his Hail Mary pass.”
“He’s gonna need to say a Hail Mary after meeting you,” Rabbit teases, convincing me to shift my stare back to her. “Speaking from experience, I’ve said at least ten. This morning.”
“You’ll be sayin’ ten more if you distract The Kid from workin’ today.” There’s no room for argument in my tone. “Understood?”
To no surprise, Bunny isn’t given a chance to answer due to Kipp speaking up. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t come to me if you need something, okay?”
“Need not want, Rabbit.”
“I need you two to calm the F150 down.” Her eyelids leisurely close. “It’s too early, and I’m too sore for this shit.”
Gotta admit.
There are only a few things I love more than a woman well fucked by me.
And I get the feeling my best friend being well fucked by me is gonna end up on that list sooner rather than later.
Deciding to leave on that note isn’t difficult. “Kipp,” I lock eyes with him once more, “you know how to reach me if you need extra hands here at the shop.” Before the thought can even creep into his mind, I add, “Not saying you will. I’m simply saying if you do, you know I’ll haul ass back here.”
He reluctantly nods.
“You know I’ll always haul ass back here for you.”
At that, Kipp grins a bit bigger and begins retreating towards the machine. “I’ve paid at least three tickets that confirm that, Sir.”
“I mean, yeah.” Making my way over to the front door is attached a flirty smirk. “They were your fault, Kid.”
His flashed middle finger is met by a chuckle and grabbing of my keys from the counter.
What’s normally a ninety minute plus drive gets whittled down to around an hour courtesy of backroads and bribed county cops. Over the years, we’ve come to a number of agreements in the areas surrounding ours. Handling their cars – company and personal – practically for free. Donating auto shop time for auctions. Tossing in sponsorship for athletic teambuilding bullshit. It’s all more or less above board and keeps me from having to pay attention to things like speed signs, especially when I’ve got a waiting customer.
Pulling up directly in front of the brunette male leaning against the hood of his luxury vehicle smoking a cigarette instantly instills an inexplicable uneasiness. Rather than immediately turn off my engine, I study the possible new client.
His over-moussed wavy hair.
His expensive shoes.
His tailored clothing.
His empty holster.
Something about this isn’t right.
What’s a man like this doing way the fuck out here?
In the middle of nowhere?
Is he lost?
Pretending to be?
Cautiously killing my truck and sliding out of my vehicle are followed by me asking the pale male the obvious question. “You Patrick?”
He nods.
Has another drag.
“Any idea what’s wrong with your car?”
The smoke creeps out the corner of his mouth prior to him answering. “Think I just need a jump.”
If that’s all I drove out here for, it’s about to be the most expensive one of his fucking life.
It’s my turn to nod during my approach. “What happened?”
“Pulled off last night to get a little shut eye. Woke up and the fucking thing wouldn’t turn all the way on.”
“Make sounds?”
“Clicking noises.”
“Might be the starter, not the battery.”
Actually, it’s most likely the starter not the battery if that’s the noise he heard.
“Fucking A,” he grunts and tosses his bud into the nearby greenery. “That’s the last shit I need right now.”
“Look, we can definitely try to jump her, first. It’s your money.”
“And being the one to get this fucking bounty will be worth it.” His devilish grin churns my stomach. “Fuck it. Let’s try to jump this cunt first.”
I nod and back track to retrieve my cables. “Bounty hunter, huh?”
“Not really.”
“PI?”
“Not…exactly…”
The sinister tone slows my steps.
“More like…location spotting.”
“Where are you after?”
“Not a where perse but a who.”
More dread trickles along the back of my throat, yet I force it down.
Grab the necessary gear.
Pop and pin the hood of my truck open.
“This rich prick just wants to know where his girlfriend ran away to so he can make some big romantic gesture. Probably proprose or some shit.” The hood to his car is cracked too. “He was vague on those details, but for a quarter of a mill in cash? I could not give a fuck less about what he intends to do with this ho’ when he gets her.”
Curiosity crawls out of me before I can stop it. “You the only one after her?”
“Unfortunately not.” He props his hood open as well. “The guy hired six of us. We all got a hefty fucking starter’s fee. A burner phone. Her photo. And were made to sign an NDA.” Patrick slyly shoots me an arrogant grin. “You probably don’t even know what that is, huh, buddy?”
Ah.
Of course, the rich prick would hire a smug one.
I wanna tell him not only do I know what that shit is, but if he makes another crack at me like that one, I’ll rearrange his DNA so it was like that NDA was signed by another fucking person.
“Basically, it means I legally can’t give out details about this shit, but…” His dark eyebrows mischievously bounce while my fingers unroll the cables. “Wanna see this hot little piece he’s after?”
Logically?
No.
This whole situation is of no interest to me and my towing gig.
Instinctually?
I can’t nod fucking fast enough.
Meeting me in the space between both vehicles, Patrick pulls out his phone and wastes no time bringing up a picture. The instant it’s on the screen, he releases an obnoxious, loud, impressed whistle along with a disgusting lip bite. “Imagine that on your dick, man.”
I don’t have to imagine.
She was there last night.
And I plan for her to be there again when I get home.
“Don’t know what it is about this chick…I don’t know if she has three nipples…a pussy that stays virgin tight…or an ass he was first to call home…or what…But what I do know is he wants her found.” Patrick lets his almost hazel stare find my dark brown. “Bad.”
Which sucks balls for him because we want her with us.
“Like do whatever it takes, fuck the consequences, bad.” The customer tucks his device back in his pants, rubs his hands greedily together, and states, “Alright, fuck, let’s get this shit going. I got a tip that she ate at a diner up the road a couple days ago. I’ve got a feeling they might know where she was headed.” He turns towards his car. “People tend to tell strangers all sorts of shit when they think they’ll never see them again.”
Just like he is.
Except he won’t see me again.
That’s a fact.
Because he won’t be seeing anyone ever again.
Especially not my Rabbit.
I follow him silently over to his vehicle, yet the second he stops, the red cord in my possession is swung around his slender neck. I grip both ends tightly with my curling fists and harshly yank his squirming frame against mine. The cable cuts into his throat right below his Adam’s apple, ceasing any ability to capture more air into what I assume are his burning lungs. Desperate thrashing of his torso comes on the heels of him clawing at the object that’s restricting his breathing, along with violent knocks of his knees into the front bumper happening next, likely bruising the territory in the course of the repeated collision. Stomps and kicks and even a headbutt are attempted to break my unyielding hold, but it doesn’t matter.
None of it matters.
Not his futile croaking.
Not his frantic patting.
Not even the blood vessel that noticeably pops in his eye.
All I give a shit about is protecting those I give a fuck about.
By any means necessary.
Fuck the consequences.
Guess you could say that Rabbit isn’t the only thing me and that rich prick who hired this asshole actually have in common.