Chapter 11
Eleven
Melissa
“What are you thanking me for?” Yana asks Jada. Weird. One would have thought these two had already gone through all the bonding conversations.
I stab the ice cubes in my glass with my straw as they continue. Turns out the tattooed beauty is like a sister to Beast and Hella, which makes no sense. I can't picture Hella having a soft side with anyone, much less a woman. Jealousy jerks in my gut once again.
“For caring about Beast that much,” Jada replies.
I down my drink as their conversation fades in and out. I didn't think it possible to hate someone as much as I hate Hella. I wish I could say I don't know why, but I'd be fooling myself. I can name five reasons off the top of my head.
One, his cocky smirk.
Two, his asshole walk.
Three, he's an asshole.
Four, did I say asshole? I meant cunt.
And five? He has the biggest dick I've ever seen. And it's pierced. This is a very good reason to hate him because it's exactly why I don't hate him.
I’m not making sense anymore. Sliding my glass across the bar, I smile at Old Fella. “Another, please.”
He winks. “Of course, pretty girl.”
At least he thinks I'm pretty. Maybe I should take him home tonight because no one else will touch me here, much less look at me. Too far, Melissa.
I’d barely lifted my glass back to my lips when the girls’ conversation whips back through. “It comes naturally. Not by choice, trust me. Those men give me nightmares, but I care about them both.”
“So, I have to ask,” Yana begins, looking at me for support. I cringe, filling my mouth with alcohol before I say something dumb. “Have you slept with either of them?”
Jada cackles, as if she's been waiting for this question. “I get that you'd want to ask that, and I admire that you're not beating around the bush. Beast, no, no way. He was a virgin, you know, before…” She pauses.
I freeze. A virgin? When! That man is sex on a stick. I’d love to know how he fought off all the girls that would have thrown themselves at him.
She clears her throat, shuffling on her chair when she notices Yana stiffen.
“Ah, fuck it. They’ll forgive me.” She shrugs, her finger tracing her glass.
“Beast was a virgin basically all the way until he got out of Vanguard, when he was twenty-one.” Jada’s eyes widen.
“Oh God, no! Yana, don’t worry! You weren’t his first. There was another, before you, but ah, yeah. We don’t talk about her.”
Why would Yana not want to be his first? And who do we not talk about? Their conversation just took a turn onto interesting Boulevard.
“Are you okay, dear?” I tease, caressing her arm.
Her eyes swing to me, and Jesus, is that a tear I can see forming?
My smirk vanishes, and I sit up a little straighter.
She turns back to Jada. “Meadow?”
Jada’s face blanks and the Old Fella stops drying a glass.
“Ah, yeah,” Jada sips her drink. “None of us met her. Not really sure what happened, but anyway, no, I have not been with Beast.”
She keeps saying Beast and not Hella.
She continues with a light chuckle, “Hella? Yes. Everyone with a decent set of tits has been under him.” Poker face, Melissa.
My body stiffens again, and Yana flinches, feeling my sudden discomfort. Your poker face sucks.
“Anything serious lately?” Yana asks, trying to sound casual.
Jada bends over the bar to look straight at me. “No, nothing serious, it was a huge mistake that happened when we were younger. He was my first, that's all. He's like a brother to me now.”
Note to self, Yana's poker face also sucks.
I smile, my eyes darting around the room. “Oookaayy...” When Jada rolls her eyes, I know she didn't buy my brush-off. They begin talking about other shit, and I zone out again, focusing on my task at hand. Getting drunk.
I was safer back in Westbeach, at least I knew the wolves I was running with.
“Shots!” I yell at Old Fella. Dad taught me poker and drinking young, hoping I'd inherit his gambling streak.
The alcohol stuck; gambling didn't. He wasn't always broken.
He worked hard and cared for us. Everything changed after losing his job.
The stress drove him to gamble more, switching from casual poker nights to serious betting.
His drinking escalated from beer to whiskey overnight.
I lost the man I knew. He became someone else entirely.
mum watched helplessly as her high school sweetheart crumbled, too weak to accept her help.
I widen my eyes at Yana when she glares at my sudden outburst. "Don't judge."
She widens hers back before turning back to Jada.
Jada laughs off Yana's offer to take this back someplace else. "My son will be home from school."
The words hit me wrong. My brain stutters, trying to process what she just said while my face does something that probably looks normal. I blink slow, force some half-assed smile onto my mouth.
A son. She has a fucking son.
"You have a son?" I ask.
"I do." She watches me. "His name's Garret. He's five. You might meet him tonight. We live on the north side of the property."
So she lives on the property. Definitely Hella's kid. Why the hell has Yana never talked about her?
This is the hundredth time I’ve been uncomfortable since arriving. Jada packs up her bag and thanks Old Fella for her Coke before we stand to walk her out.
Yana hangs back as we clear our mess. "I feel bad I never took a moment to talk with her."
"Yeah," I answer, slowly following behind Jada. "Why haven't you?"
A water bottle lands in my hand. "Because I don't hang around here. I mean I do, but I stick outside the club and only come in when Beast needs me."
Odd, for an old lady.
Jada's son revelation strikes deep. Five years old. The timeline fits. If Hella has a kid, why didn't he say anything? Not that he owes me explanations, but it adds another dimension to the man I want to both strangle and straddle.
I take a slow sip of water, the tasteless liquid doing nothing to wash away the bitterness coating my tongue. Another woman who's known Hella intimately. Another connection I don't have with him. Not that I want one.
Do I?
Alcohol makes everything fuzzy around the edges, but one thing remains crystal clear. I'm in over my head with these people. Their histories, their traumas, their bonds forged in blood and weird societies. I'm just a bakery owner with a fucked-up Uni experience and daddy issues.
Yana's squeezes my arm, pulling me back to the present. “You sure you're okay?”
I nod, forcing a smile as we hit the doors. “Just wondering if we're still going out tonight.”
I need to see him. I need to know if he looks at Jada the same way he looks at me, like he wants to devour me whole while simultaneously pushing me away. Like I'm both salvation and damnation wrapped in one package.
Or maybe I just need another drink.