Johnny thumped his fist on the table and I jerked my head back toward him. His eyes held a warning, and I lifted my fingers from the whisky in my hand. “Don’t start with me, old man,” I said, shaking my head.
“Then don’t get distracted,” he bit out and I rolled my tongue over my teeth, glancing away. One of the girls took my glance as an invitation and sashayed over, her hips swiveling in a way that made me wonder how flexible she really was as she came to sit on my lap. I shook my head, blocking her, and she gave me a hurt glance. I offered a smile as I said, “Business, darling.”
“That might be a first,” Johnny said, his gaze assessing. I lifted my shoulder, easing back in the hard chair, pretending I didn’t know what he meant. “I don’t care if it’s the allure of forbidden fruit or just new pussy, don’t break your own damn rule, or not a goddamn man in this room will respect you.”
I leaned forward, my voice low as I replied, “She’s not pussy and you better show her some respect or we’re going to have a problem.” Johnny shook his head but didn’t comment. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I stood up, knocking back the rest of the whisky as I dropped my cigarette butt in the ashtray.
“Set up a run with Monty,” Johnny ordered before I stepped away and I nodded. “Keep us out of this, Creed. We have enough problems.” His jaw locked as he studied the amber liquid in his glass and I knew he was thinking about the past.
“Will do,” I muttered, slapping his shoulder as I strolled to the kitchen. I nodded to a few of the guys who’d stopped by for a drink after work, but didn’t take the time to chat. I refused to think too deeply about my desire to see Jailbait, or how it was beginning to feel more like a necessity.
“Looks good, Jailbait,” I commented as I pushed the door open and she spun around, her face lighting when she saw me.
She gave a half-hearted shrug, glancing around, and said, “It kept me busy.” The place was cleaner than I ever remembered seeing it and I wondered if she was working to keep the demons away. “Took me forever to find the cleaning supplies. I started to think there weren’t any.”
I chuckled because honestly I wouldn’t have thought there would be any. “You must have found something,” I answered, sniffing the air.
“Yeah, stashed in a bucket in a corner of the closet. I don’t think they’ve ever been used.”
“Probably not,” I admitted, twisting my lips. I jerked my head, “You want to see your room?”
She looked surprised as she slowly nodded, tossing her rag into a bin. “I didn’t think I’d get my own room.”
“Thought you’d be staying with me?” I teased, watching her cheeks flush. “Trust me, I wouldn’t mind, Jailbait, but it might look bad.” I winked and she shook her head at me.
“I honestly didn’t know where I was staying,” she retorted. “Maybe with one of the other girls, or something.”
“Yeah,” I drawled, wrinkling my nose. “Not gonna happen.” She bumped into me lightly as we walked and I pretended to stumble. “You gonna knock me over, woman,” I cried, clutching my side.
“Jailbait, you mean?” She corrected, her eyes glittering as she teased me. I chuckled, nodding as I pointed her down the hall.
“Figured you’d want your own space. No nighttime visitors,” I explained, the words coming out a little sharper than I intended when I mentioned nightly visitors. She gave me a cautious glance and I mustered a smile. “Don’t want anyone getting any ideas around here,” I muttered, trying to smooth it over. “It’s small, but it’s got a lock,” I said, pushing open the door at the end of the hall. She ducked under my arm, taking in the space, and the pile of shopping bags I’d dumped on the unmade bed. “I put some sheets on the dresser and checked that it was empty so you can put your stuff in there.”
“It’s nice, Creed. Really nice.” She had her hands in her pockets, and I got the feeling it was all a little overwhelming.
“I’m gonna let you get settled, a’ight?” She nodded and I hesitated at the door. “My room is down that hall, second door on the left.” She followed my hand as I pointed and I added, “You need anything you come get me.” She nodded and I rubbed my hands together. “The bathroom the girls share is across the hall. Feel free to use mine though.” Her smile was small but genuine and the band around my chest loosened a little. “You want to have dinner with me?” I heard myself ask, and her eyes flew to mine. I realized how it sounded and rushed to correct the impression I’d given. “With some of the guys I mean. We usually grab a bite and have a few beers.”
“They won’t mind if I join you?” She asked carefully, her foot restlessly forming circles on the worn carpet.
“Nope, trust me, pretty girls are always welcome,” I assured her and she gave me a jerky nod. “Okay, I’ll stop by and get you when it’s time,” I told her and then cursed myself. I couldn’t make it sound more like a date if I tried. Any minute now, I was going to be stopping for flowers and strangling myself with a tie before I picked her up on our date. I smiled tightly, keeping my lips sealed as I stepped back and pulled the door shut.
“Idiot,” I muttered under my breath as I turned the corner and almost ran over Weasel. He scurried out of my way and I caught his arm before he disappeared around the corner. “I need you to do something for me,” I told him and he nodded, twitching restlessly. “You’ve been sleeping on the bunks, right?”
He nodded again, sniffing as he muttered, “Yeah. Every night. Unless I’m doing a job.”
“Good, I need you to keep an eye on Jailbait for me,” I informed him and his eyes widened as he nodded rapidly. “Make sure no one bothers her and let me know if she’s in trouble or anything, got it?” He kept nodding and I pressed my fingers into his shoulder. “This is important, Weasel. Consider this a priority, am I clear?”
He met my eyes, still nodding, as he squeaked, “Clear. Keep an eye on Jailbait. Tell you if anything happens.”
“Even in the middle of the night. Everything is important to me,” I reiterated and his head bobbed. “Thanks, man.” I clapped his shoulder and then rambled down the hall toward my room as he disappeared around the corner.
I threw myself on the rumpled bed, closing my eyes as the faintest hint of citrus hit my nose. It wasn’t from Candy’s earlier visit so it must have come from Jailbait. My dick tightened at the reminder of her sleeping between my sheets and I had to force myself not to jerk off at the thought. I sat back up, adjusting my jeans, and saw her backpack sitting on the dresser.
I knew I should leave it alone. Bring it to her when I went by to pick her up for dinner. I definitely shouldn’t riffle through it without her knowledge or permission.
I grabbed for the dangling strap and yanked it on to the bed with me. Screw niceties. I needed to know more about the woman I’d brought into the club.
Her last name might be a good start. I rubbed my thumb over the worn wallet I found in the front pocket, flipping it open to see a somber Jailbait staring back at me. I snorted. It looked more like a mug shot than a girl getting her driver’s license for the first time. Where was the excitement? I snapped a picture of the license, memorizing her last name and birthday before folding it closed again. A roll of cash made me hesitate, but it was mostly small bills and didn’t amount to much. I dug into the nightstand by my bed, knocking aside a box of condoms, and rummaged until my fingers found what I was looking for. I smiled in satisfaction at the small roll of hundreds in my hand. I kept the small stash for emergencies and didn’t think twice as I stuffed the wad of bills in the center of her cash.
I didn’t think she’d run, but at least now, if she did, she’d have enough to get her by until I found her. Something sharp poked me and I stuffed the money where I’d found it and explored the other pocket. A picture frame revealed itself and I recognized the woman smiling next to Jailbait. The last time I’d seen her she’d been lying dead on the side of the road, but there was the elusive smile I’d been searching for on Jailbait. Her head tilted toward her mom and they
both had big smiles on their faces. My chest tightened and I shoved the frame back inside the bag. Some wrinkled clothes and a worn book where all that was left and I wondered if that was really all she had to her name.
I fought the sudden compulsion to go back to the store and buy shopping carts full of stuff for her. I already knew she wouldn’t thank me for it. She wasn’t one to worry about things. Her backpack had revealed what mattered to her and it wasn’t clothes or makeup. I zipped the bag up and went back to the picture of her ID I’d taken on my phone. After a minute, I sent it to a buddy on the force who owed me a favor, and requested he do a background check. As an afterthought, I told him to keep the information to himself. I wasn’t sure about the guy who’d run them off the road or the pull he might have. Another thing I needed to find out from Jailbait.
A glance at the clock told me I needed to collect Jailbait and get to the kitchen before she ventured out on her own. I scratched my chest, and lifted my arm, sniffing my pit to see if I should change my shirt. When I realized what I was doing, I cursed and slammed out of the room, her backpack dangling from my fingertips.
I banged on her door before I calmed down enough to realize it wasn’t her fault I was acting like a kid on his first date. She opened the door cautiously and I tested her smarts by leaning against the open door. It resisted my weight and I smiled. She’d braced herself against it and whoever might have pounded on the door.
“Next time ask who it is first,” I admonished and she gave me a sharp glance.
“Like I’d recognize anybody’s name or voice,” she said tartly.
“You’d recognize mine,” I smirked and she flushed, both of us knowing it was the truth. I held up her bag and her eyes lit up. “Thought you might want this.”
She nodded eagerly, grabbing at it and I held on to it for just a second longer as she yanked a little harder, and we wound up in a tug of war until I finally let go.
“Jerk,” she muttered without heat, her lips almost forming an upward curve and I realized suddenly just how badly I wanted to make her smile. Not just smile, but laugh.
“We better go before all that’s left are scraps,” I grunted, not sure I liked this new revelation. Any chance of a smile disappeared at my rough voice and she nodded silently, her eyes dropping, and I cursed myself. “Clutch cooked it,” I offered, trying to make up for my attitude.
She didn’t smile but she lifted her gaze, and it was enough to see those emerald green eyes. She set her backpack on the dresser, patting it absently before following me back into the hall. “What’s with those two?” She asked curiously, as we walked. She glanced sideways at me. “Ronnie and Clutch,” she added as if I hadn’t already known exactly who she meant.
“He’s been in love with her since the second grade. She –” I hesitated to say it, knowing Clutch would put a new bend in my nose if he heard me, but it was the truth. “She always liked the assholes.”
Jailbait nodded and then glanced at me, mischief in her eyes. “So, you were more her type?” I chuckled at her teasing.
“She tried. Once. I shut it down quick. No poaching on another guy’s girl.” My gaze skimmed over her. “Especially when he’s your best friend.”
“Smart rule.” Her nose crinkled and I had to resist the urge to run my thumb over it to smooth it out. “But I don’t understand why she wouldn’t give Clutch a chance. He seems like he fits the criteria.”
A laugh rumbled through me and I paused right before we came to the bar area. “Except he never made a secret of how he felt. I love Ronnie, but she always goes after the ones that use her and throw her aside. Clutch never would and she knows it.”
“Oh,” Jailbait echoed, as understanding dawned on her. “Her boyfriend, Rob,” I sneered at the mention of his name and she hesitated. “I take it you don’t like him.”
“Calling him her boyfriend is generous. He’s her baby daddy and not a very good one. Can’t keep a job and only shows up when he wants pussy or money,” I growled, having heard it all from Hank and Clutch enough to be pissed on their behalf. She blinked at me and I realized I might have come off a little strong. “I mean, he’s not that bad.”
A snort escaped her and then a little coughing sound and I started to get concerned until I realized she was laughing. The sound was rusty and unexpected, but I suddenly felt ten feet tall.
“You find me amusing, Jailbait?” I prodded and she nodded, her laughter fading as quickly as it had arrived.
“A little,” she replied quietly and I leaned down, my lips barely brushing her ear as I murmured, “Good.” I settled my hand on her hip to guide her into the open bar and didn’t miss the shiver that ran through her at my touch.
I steered her to the table where Clutch and Deacon sat – Johnny noticeably absent – and ignored the slight misapprehension that ran through me as silence followed us. They needed to get used to her presence and the fact that I’d take any one of them out if they so much as looked at her wrong.
“Deacon, its been too long, man.” I clapped hands with the tall black man who stood at my greeting. “You been holed up with your honey?”
He laughed, the sound rolling out of his chest, a rich baritone that was infectious. “You’ve seen Norah, haven’t you? You can’t blame me.”
“Not at all, not at all,” I replied, tugging Jailbait forward. “This is Jailbait,” I introduced, not missing her quick frown.
Deacon flashed a white smile as he gazed down at her. “Jailbait, huh?”
“Normal people call me Sloan,” she grumbled, her eyes cutting to mine. More laughter poured out of Deacon as he eased back into his seat.
“I think she’ll do just fine,” Deacon declared, his low drawl revealing his Southern roots. “And well worth the trip away from my honey hole.” Jailbait rolled her eyes, not missing his implication as she settled into an empty seat.
“Glad to see you survived,” Clutch told her with a nod.
“Near thing. That kitchen was toxic,” she retorted, startling a slow grin out of him.
“I couldn’t believe it when I heard you’d been put to work cleaning the kitchen. Not sure anyone here has ever considered doing it,” he replied, eyes dancing in amusement.
“I would testify to that statement,” she stated seriously, as I sat next to her. He gaze darted to Deacon again and I could sense her curiosity.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he declared, slapping his hand on the table and causing her head to jerk in surprise. I shot him a warning glance that only caused him to smirk. “You’re trying to figure out what a black man is doing in the middle of a motorcycle club wearing the Confederate flag on his back, aren’t you?”
She glanced at me and I smiled encouragingly. She nodded at Deacon, looking sheepish. “It does seem a little unusual,” she answered diplomatically to his amusement.
“Or suicidal,” he retorted, scooping a spoonful of chili in his mouth. “But I owe this club my life,” he continued, surprising Sloan. “I was in the military. Two stints in the Middle East. When they finally sent me home,” he paused, his eyes lost to a past he didn’t talk about, “I wasn’t the same guy who’d left.”
Jailbait waited, staring at him with wide eyes, as she let him tell his story.
“My family,” Deacon took a deep breath and shook his head. “It was easier to pretend I’d never come home. I met Johnny on the road one day and he invited me to come check the club out.” A smile quirked Deacon’s mouth. “Found a new family.” He plucked at the black jacket stitched with our logo and his position of Chaplain. “I think they gave me the position because of my name,” he added with a wink and a smile burst from Sloan sending a sharp prick of jealousy through me. A subtle kick under the table from Clutch wiped my expression as I shifted.
I cleared my throat, saying, “He left out a small piece of the story.”
“Major part,” Clutch coughed into his hand and Sloan glanced over at us inquiringly.
“He forgot to mention that he save
d Johnny’s life. That’s why he was invited to come and prospect with the club,” I answered, nodding at Deacon, still grateful he’d stopped that day.
“So you’re a hero….like Creed,” Sloan answered innocently, jerking her thumb toward me before scraping the bottom of her bowl clean. With her attention focused on her food, she didn’t notice the glances the guys cast me or my hard swallow at her words.
“Yeah, just like that,” Deacon replied quietly, his gaze skating over her bruised face. “Nothing but a club full of do-gooders here.”
Sloan chuckled, licking the last little bit off her spoon and causing me to shift uncomfortably. Clutch shook his head, glancing at his own half full bowl. He shoved it toward her and she glanced at it hopefully.
“Go ahead,” he told her and she snatched it toward her, dipping her spoon in the bowl immediately. “It’s more fun watching Creed suffer anyway,” he muttered under his breath, which caused me to growl. Sloan paused, her spoon hovering as she gauged my reaction.
“Eat up,” I told her gruffly. “It’s not like Clutch needs a second helping anyway,” I added, patting Clutch’s flat stomach. “He gets any bigger and he won’t be able to ride.”
“I think he’ll be okay,” Sloan murmured around a mouthful of chili. “Hank still rides.”
A pause met that statement before we all busted out laughing, the roar causing a few heads to turn in the bar. Her lips twitched, but all she said was, “I didn’t think it was that funny.”
Clutch wiped his eyes. “Yeah, but I had to reinforce the struts on his bike a few weeks back cause he’s so heavy.”
“Man, I wish I was brave enough to tell him this story,” I muttered, causing another round of laughter, and this time Sloan joined in, her eyes glittering as she glanced over at me. She finished off Clutch’s bowl and I lifted an eyebrow. “You want another round?”
She gazed down at the empty bowl for a second, but finally shook her head no. “Better not or I won’t fit in my new clothes.”
“You could stand to gain a few pounds,” Deacon mentioned, assessing her. She frowned, but didn’t comment and I whacked the back of Deacon’s head.
Jailbait (Southern Rebels MC Book 1) Page 7