Chapter 7 Ford
SEVEN
FORD
This was such a bad idea.
I knew it was, but fuck, I needed to do something to punish myself for what I had said last week when Killian told me to stay away from Royce.
The small, single fuck I let him see I had regarding his daughter was not just humiliating, it was dangerous.
I had been down this path before, the one where I stared at her for too long.
Or I drew her face from sheer memory in my sketchpads, which were later discovered by my own parents.
If anyone knew how deep my past obsession really went, they’d knock me over the head and toss me into the bay. I was a sick fuck who had gripped my cock three different times throughout the week to the video of Royce in that outfit.
Thick ropes of cum had coated my shower wall, my comforter, and a goddamn sock. Like I was fifteen years old again, getting hard after seeing her in her first bikini.
I had to do this.
“Hi, Fordy. My gawwwwd I was so excited when you texted me.” Jasmine popped her gum while sliding into the chair across from me.
Shit, was I supposed to pull it out for her?
I didn’t want to date women, I wanted to fuck them, but I hadn’t been successful in even doing that in years.
Even after seeing Royce at the movies with the cropped-hair guy, I tried to fuck someone, but I ended up kicking her out of my room at the club.
I needed to stop this fucking obsession and the only way to do it was to kill it.
Jasmine was someone who had come by the club a few times and had dry humped my leg while we sat on the couch.
I had let her, and she thought it would turn into more because I wasn’t telling her no.
It ended the second Killian came into the room.
No fucking clue why, but the man had a way of killing any desire to be seen with women romantically.
“I had the dirtiest dream last night, Fordy, do you want to hear it?” Jasmine touched her toe to my calf under the table. I glanced around the room to see if our waiter was on his way, but he was still a few tables over.
“Sure.”
Jasmine had chocolate tresses that hung down in fake extensions, past her tits. Her eyes were wide and rimmed with fake lashes that were a little too long, and she was incessantly chewing gum. We were about to eat lunch, for fuck’s sake, and she was chewing gum.
“Then you were there and you went down on me and I’m telling you it was the best orgasm I ever had.”
“In the dream?” I clarified because what the fuck was she talking about? We’d never fucked or even come close to it.
She continued chatting, but my phone chimed with a text.
Mom: Do you have Gus at your place?
I shot back a reply quickly.
Me: No, why?
Mom: I can’t find him anywhere. Ellie says she saw him last night, but that was when she accidently…never mind.
My brows furrowed as Jasmine mentioned what my tongue did to her clit in her dream.
Me: Ellie accidently what?
Mom: …It seems Ellie and the girls played a prank on you.
Confusion muddled my mind as I tried to work out what that meant.
“Are you listening, Ford?” Jasmine asked, finally dropping the goddamn y at the end of my name.
The waiter arrived next to us, but I was still trying to understand what happened.
Ellie: For the record, you deserved it.
“Good afternoon, can I start you out with some drinks or appetizers?”
Jasmine spoke up, “Yes, I want a mimosa and we’ll take the cheese platter.”
Me: Deserved what?
“And for you, sir?” the waiter asked but my focus was still on my phone.
Ellie: Me helping Royce kidnap your cat.
I slid out of the seat, which made the waiter step to the side in surprise. I tossed down a fifty-dollar bill on the table. “Sorry about this, but I have to go.”
“Are you joking me?” Jasmine shrieked while I walked out of the restaurant.
Me: I need Royce Quinn’s cell phone number.
I was currently pacing my living room. I couldn’t just drive to her house because Killian was already pissed about how I treated her last week. He was also under the delusion that I liked her or wanted to date her. Which, now I could prove to him wasn’t true because I had gone on a date.
Well, fuck, I bailed on a date but still.
Rook: You haven’t talked to her about the video yet?
Me: I did, days ago. She apparently stole my cat as a way of responding.
To draw her out, my initial impulse was to torch the Hollow, but even I knew that was a little too unhinged.
Rook: I’m laughing my ass off. Wish you could see it.
Me: Very fucking funny. Now, her number, please.
Rook: Jesus, Ford. Get a grip, it’s just Gus, it’s not like Royce did him any harm. Here you go- 804-557-9090
Me: Thanks, I owe you one.
Rook: Oh, I know, and I fully plan on collecting.
I saved her number in my phone and ignored Rook’s text about cashing in on me owing him, before punching out a message.
Me: Where is my cat?
I could force her to meet me at the club, or I could tell her to come here to my house. I glanced around and heard Johnson’s voice in my head about how ugly my house was. No, that wouldn’t work.
Pain in My Fucking Ass: Who is this?
Me: Very funny. Where is he?
Pain in My Fucking Ass: No idea
What if she had gone into town and wanted to buy Gus treats at the pet store? For all I knew, she planned on keeping my cat. Maybe I should go there and check.
Me: Do you think I’m playing? Because if so, then perhaps I need to encourage our club to visit the Hollow tonight, full force. Rodney wouldn’t mind, would he?
The dots on the screen jumped around a few times before she finally replied.
Pain in My Fucking Ass: Fine. I’ll drive him back to your parents’ house and hand him off to Ellie.
Me: Considering she proved last night that she can’t be trusted, I don’t think so.
More dots appeared and disappeared, but I smiled knowing I had her. I could let her drive to my parents and call it good, but I wasn’t about to let her out of this without having to face me first.
Pain in My Fucking Ass: Dad and Mom are headed over to Uncle Jameson and Aunt Penny’s. Should lessen the chance of your death if you want to come over and pick up your son.
Such a fucking brat, and yet I had a smile on my face I couldn’t seem to shake.
Me: I’ll be there in twenty minutes.
Pain in My Fucking Ass: Wait…
Me: What?
Pain in My Fucking Ass: Will you please bring me a vanilla latte from the Drip?
Me: After you literally stole my cat? No, Royce, I’m not bringing you a latte.
True to her word, Killian’s truck was gone when I arrived, which would mean he and Laura were gone.
I didn’t see Taryn’s bike either, so it seemed it was just Royce who was home.
I had driven my truck, with Gus’s carrier sitting next to me in the passenger seat.
Right as I made it to her front door, I got a new text from her.
Pain in My Fucking Ass: Just come up, the code is 6943. I can’t move, otherwise I’d come downstairs.
Did that mean she was hurt? I didn’t like the idea of her being hurt any more than I liked her stealing my cat, but I pushed down the feeling so I could remain unfazed.
I tried the code, entering the house cautiously.
The house I remembered from being a kid and teen had remained the same.
The entryway had a small alcove for shoes and coats, beyond it was the spacious living room and kitchen, separated by an intricate arch.
An open dining space connected to the living room, which then wound back to the kitchen.
I edged toward the stairs which would lead to the second floor.
Once my feet hit the landing, I winced the smallest bit because I hadn’t slipped out of my boots.
I wasn’t sure if that would matter and couldn’t remember the Quinn’s policy on shoes in the house, so I kept walking.
Killian and Laura’s room was on the opposite side of the house from Taryn and Royce’s.
While the girls didn’t share a room, they shared a bathroom which connected their bedrooms.
Nervous to reveal that I knew exactly which room belonged to Royce because I had it burned into memory, I lightly knocked on her white door.
“Come in!”
Wrapping my hand around the gold knob, I pushed inside and then came to an abrupt stop.
Royce was wearing a set of thin pajamas while lounging on her bed.
The top of her pajama set dipped enough that her cleavage was outlined by the tiny lace of the neckline.
Her shorts were practically underwear for how high on her thighs they went.
She had so much skin showing, my mouth might have dropped open.
“He’s been sleeping for a while. I couldn’t bring myself to move him.” She stroked the top of Gus’s head, who was curled in her lap. How the fuck had I stooped low enough in life that I’d become jealous of my own cat?
Her eyes sparkled as she took in what was in my left hand. “You brought me a latte!”
Yes, and I was ashamed that I had. She didn’t deserve it, and I was only rewarding bad behavior.
I stepped closer, handing off the latte, ignoring when our fingers brushed. The heat curling in my stomach made me feel like a fucking teenager. I stretched my hand while taking a few steps back. “Well, you wouldn’t be stuck there if you hadn’t stolen an animal that doesn’t belong to you.”
Her pink mouth covered the small hole in the plastic latte lid while she took a generous sip.
“I wish my parents had let us have one growing up.”
To avoid staring down her thin shirt, I sat down on the edge of her bed.
I watched as she continued to run her fingers over my cat’s fur, and that’s when I realized he was purring, as if this was the happiest he’d been in a long time.
I liked that he was purring, and I liked even more that she had made him so content.
“You never had a pet?” Why was I indulging this?