Twisted with Chaos: A CASH BAR NOVEL

by Faiman, Hayley

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HOUSTON

  ONE MONTH LATER

  The looks of pity are finally fading, but they haven’t disappeared. I watch Carson walk through the bar, her hand on her growing belly, a smile on her face—that is until her eyes meet mine. The smile immediately fades, and pity crosses her face. I fucking hate it. I also hate the fact that it’s been a month and I haven’t been able to fuck anyone else. Nobody. It’s goddamn bullshit.

  Keys walks up behind her, lowers his head and brushes his lips across her cheek before he murmurs something low into her ear. His hand cups her belly, and the move is so goddamn intimate that I feel like a pervert as I watch them. Turning my head to the side, I pick up my bottle of beer and take a healthy swig.

  “You joining the barbeque?” Keys asks a few moments later.

  I move my gaze through the room, then over to him. He’s sitting across from me, his eyes intently focused on mine and I can tell he’s trying really fucking hard to hide his pity. He does a better job than his woman, but I can still see it inside of him. Fucker.

  “Nope,” I state. He lifts a brow toward me, but I shake my head. “Going on a run, no need to be here.”

  I should stay.

  She’ll be here today.

  This isn’t just some barbeque, this is a baby shower for Carson. I know for a fact that Roxanne would not miss this moment, not for anything in the world, which is why I won’t be here to see her. I can’t. If I stay, I’ll fuck her, I won’t be able to stop myself and neither will she.

  Whether Roxanne likes it or not, we are drawn toward one another. We are meant to be, no matter how hard she pushes me away. I won’t stand by and let myself be pushed any longer. She has to come to me, and it won’t be because I’m convenient and available. I’m forcing her to take the chance, or not. It’s completely up to her.

  Maybe I’m a fucking pussy. Maybe I should march over to her, fuck her and make her stay, but that wouldn’t be healthy for her. That wouldn’t help the woman that she is. Roxanne needs to learn to trust her instincts, her desires. I have a feeling that she hasn’t been able to do that for a really fucking long time. I will not be one of her abusive and controlling exes.

  “Carson says she misses you, even if she won’t admit it,” Keys mutters.

  I shake my head with a snort. “Brother, no need to try and play matchmaker. If Roxanne wants me, she knows where to find me, anytime day or night.”

  Standing, I turn away from him and walk out of the back of the bar. I have no desire to see anyone else.

  There’s an empty truck waiting for me, keys in the ignition to take down to the exchange station at the border. A man from the Idaho chapter will be making his way over the border in just a couple of hours. We’ll meet at an empty warehouse, do the exchange of weapons and dope, then I’ll drive it to Regina.

  Starting the engine, I look over at the party area. There is a bonfire set up, tables with chairs, actual linens with balloons and girlie shit everywhere. Keys is standing at the grill, Snake next to him. Then I see her. She’s walking across the grass, her eyes and head moving around as if she’s looking for someone. If it’s me, she won’t find me anywhere near.

  The passenger door opens, and I grin when Skinner jumps into the seat next to mine. “Your Old Lady okay with you going on this run?” I ask him as I shift the truck into drive.

  Skinner snorts. “Gracie knows I’ll be back before she can blink an eye. She also knows where my loyalties lie when it comes to clubwhores and runs,” he shrugs.

  Driving out of the parking lot, I force myself not to look in the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of Roxanne. From what I saw she looks better, her body a bit curvier than it was a month ago. Maybe she’s finally evened out on her meds, maybe she’s feeling better, or maybe it’s none of my goddamn business and I need to stop thinking about her altogether.

  “Where’s the loyalty lie, brother?” I ask, trying to keep my mind from drifting back toward her again.

  Skinner chuckles. “Gracie’s all I ever wanted, ain’t about to fuck that up over easy pussy.”

  I glance over to him, my lips twitching in a smirk. “Thank fuck. More pussy for me, then,” I announce.

  We don’t say anything else for at least an hour. He’s probably feeling sorry for me, because that’s what people do these days. They think because they have what they want out of life, they’re living their dream, that everyone should, and can, have that opportunity. Sometimes shit just doesn’t fucking work like that.

  “You miss Texas?” Skinner asks as soon as I pull into a gas station to fill up the truck with fuel.

  Shifting the truck into park, I think about the question. Inhaling, I look down at my lap, then glance over to him. Frowning, I shrug. “I miss some parts of home. This is my life now, and the Devils are my brothers, I wouldn’t change that part of my life. So, yeah, I miss Texas, but not enough to go back.”

  “You ever thought about transferring down there? We got Devils all over the states, brother.”

  Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through my hair. It’s a little longer than I would normally wear it. I missed a cut, and couldn’t find a fuck to give about that fact, still can’t. I’ve also not shaved in a few days, my stubble is longer than I’ve ever worn it in my life.

  “Trying to get rid of me?” I ask, trying to turn this obviously serious conversation lighter.

  Skinner shakes his head, his eyes find mine and he lets out a sigh of his own. “You’re drowning, brother. That bitch threw you for a loop, we all see it. It’s been a month and you’re not getting any better. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with admitting defeat and trying to start over,” he suggests.

  Closing my eyes, I let out a breath. I know there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s what I did when I got on my bike and kept riding north. It’s what I did when I found this group of men to call my brothers. I left everything behind, not that I had a whole hell of a lot, but I needed a change.

  Thing is, I don’t feel the same now as I did a few years ago. I don’t feel lost. I feel sad that me and Roxie can’t be what we are meant to be. A part of me has accepted the fact that she’ll never be mine, another part of me is holding out hope that she’ll wake the fuck up and claim the man whose heart has already claimed her.

  “Not defeated yet, Skinner. Sure, I have been dealt a little blow, but, brother, I ain’t defeated. I’m fixin’ to stand up tall here shortly. Just give me a little bit to lick my wounds,” I chuckle.

  He nods, dipping his chin. “Pined after Gracie for far too fuckin’ long. I should have moved on, but you know what?”

  I don’t answer him. I wait for him to tell me. He doesn’t disappoint.

  “I’m fucking glad that I waited.”

  We don’t say anything else. He runs into the gas station to get road food and pay for the fuel with untraceable cash. We fill up, fuel up, and finish our trip down to the border crossing.

  ROXANNE

  Inhaling a deep breath, I exit the shitty red car that I bought a week ago. It isn’t anything fancy, in fact, I’m surprised it even made it all the way here without breaking down. I smooth my hands down the front of my jeans, trying to wipe the sweat from them. He’s going to be here, I know it, and I’m not sure if I’m ready to see him again, yet.

  Glancing around, I frown when I see a few of the men that I recognize, but Tanner’s face is not amongst them. Reaching the party area, I set my small gift on a table, and exhale.

  “He won’t be here,” a voice murmurs from behind me.

  Spinning around, I see Ace standing in front of me. He has a pair of grilling tongs in his hand, his arms crossed over his chest and he looks pissed the fuck off.

  Gulping, I nod. “Okay,” I whisper.

  He shakes his head, his eyes boring into mine, into my fucking soul they are so intense. “That’s all you have to say about it?” he asks.

  I shrug one shoulder, unsure of what he wants from me. “Is he okay?” I ask.

>   Ace lets out a bark of harsh laughter. “No, he fucking is not. Do you care? Or are you so goddamn selfish that you give a fuck about nobody but yourself?” he asks, tipping his head to the side.

  “Ace,” Carson hisses.

  My eyes water, unable to look away from his, even as Carson approaches us. “I’m so sorry…” she begins, but I hold my head up to stop her from continuing.

  “Don’t,” I snap. “Ace is right. I’m selfish, but I’m selfless too. I didn’t want to ruin his life, Ace, you have to understand where I’m coming from,” I almost plead.

  He shakes his head, a smirk on his lips, but it’s mocking, it isn’t anywhere near a kind smile. He leans forward slightly, his eyes swirling with anger. “Too fucking late. You’ve ruined him.”

  Without another word, he spins on his heels and stomps away from me. The tears that welled in my eyes fall as he walks away.

  You ruin everything.

  No, you don’t, you’re being fair.

  You should just end it now. You are worthless.

  The voices argue amongst themselves, something that tends to happen more often when I’m highly stressed like I am right now.

  Carson wraps her arms around me, and as much as I want to push her away so that I can focus on calming these voices down, I don’t. Instead, I wrap my arms around her as well and just take deep calming breaths. One, two, three and then something happens. The voices fade away. They disappear, at least for the moment. Carson takes a step back, sadness all over her face.

  “I’m sorry, he’s just upset about Houston,” she whispers. “In his world, the guy always gets the girl,” she smiles.

  “I wish that it could be like that. Maybe I should just go home,” I mutter.

  Carson reaches for my wrist and stops me from taking a step backward. “You won’t leave. It’s my party and I won’t allow it. Ace and Houston have gotten close over the past few months, he’s the only one that’s pissed. Nobody else will say anything, and he won’t say another word about it, I promise.”

  I nod, my teeth sinking into the corner of my lip. I feel, anxious. Really fucking anxious. I thought that I could handle this party.

  Melodie tried to talk me out of it, knowing that Houston would probably be here. When he left a month ago, I took a small downward spiral. I became depressed and spent three full days in bed, not eating or sleeping. She helped me come back to myself, or at least a version of myself that could go to work and eat.

  I took some sleeping aids and slept, then eventually became more refreshed. I’m still lethargic, still foggy-brained, but I don’t know if that’s because of my emotions fighting amongst themselves or because of my meds.

  “Hey,” a voice calls out.

  Spinning around, I’m surprised to see Ginger walking toward me with a big smile. She doesn’t even hesitate before pulling me into her body for a big hug.

  “It’s so good to see you again,” she murmurs before taking a step back. “Let’s go get some water,” she smiles.

  The rest of the party is light, my mood slowly shifts, it becomes more even. I also find myself socializing, a lot. The sun goes down, the bonfire is lit, Carson’s baby shower cake is consumed, and Lea is gathering children to take home.

  I watch her stomp over to her mother. She points at Gracie’s chest and shakes her head. Then she turns around and stomps off.

  “What’s up with that?” I ask.

  Lea is a teenager, a full-fledged teen now. She's beautiful, and she's stuck with babysitting duty an awful lot. I remember being her age and partying every weekend, so maybe it's a good thing that her mother has her watching children rather than running around town the way that I did.

  Hayden is sitting next to me, her eyes following my gaze as I watch Lea leave the party area. “I talked to her the other day. She’s been a mess since Fish died. Since she found out that he wasn’t her father. Gracie and Skinner are trying,” she shrugs. “Lea isn’t a sweet little girl anymore, though. She’s a monster teenager.”

  “I remember being that age,” I cringe.

  Hayden laughs. “I’m sure. We all did stupid stuff, and she will too. I just hope she’s safe about it all.”

  Baby stomps through the party, and I watch him go after Lea. He reaches for her, spinning her around and he dips his head. It looks like he’s really giving her a rash of shit and I watch, engrossed in their encounter.

  “That girl,” Esme mutters from the other side of me. “She’s so in love with Baby, she’s going to have her heart shattered in a million pieces.”

  “He’s way too old for her,” I snap.

  My heart starts to race as I look between the two. I was sleeping with men like Baby when I was around Lea’s age. Men who were twice my age, who were bad boys, men who I had no business being with in any way whatsoever.

  Esme reaches for me, her hand is warm on my forearm. She doesn’t speak, so I turn my head to look over at her. “He wouldn’t. She’s only just turned fourteen. He probably wouldn’t even if she was eighteen. She’s his brother’s daughter,” she explains.

  “Good.”

  We change the subject, but I can’t stop myself from thinking about my past. I can’t hold back the thoughts and memories as they flood my brain. The men that I slept with, the countless men when I was nothing more than a baby. I didn’t care who they were, I didn’t care how they treated me, I just wanted to be filled.

  Later, I would be involved in relationships, thinking that was better. The thing is, I didn’t change the type of men I went after. I still didn’t care how they treated me, as long as they were with me, as long as I wasn’t alone. As long as they filled me, I didn’t care.

  Closing my eyes, I wonder how much of that has really changed? I have a man who cares about me. Who wants me for me, including all of my crazy and I am refusing him. I am not allowing him to love me. I’m telling myself it is because I love him more than myself, but is that true? If I did, wouldn’t I give him what he truly desires—myself?

  CHAPTER NINE

  HOUSTON

  The exchange at the Porthill/Rykerts border went swimmingly. The Idaho chapter has their shit together, plus the agents in their pockets. Something they secured years ago after their president was arrested for trafficking.

  With a new load of guns and dope, Skinner and I head toward Regina. It’s over a ten-hour drive from this border crossing, he’s already antsy to get home, me? I’m antsy to see what kind of new talent they have in their clubhouse.

  We won’t be staying where we make the drop, but there is a clubhouse just on the outskirts of town where we’ll be welcomed with open arms and warm pussy.

  My phone rings when we’re about five hours down the road. Both Skinner and I stopped talking a while ago, both too tired to carry on meaningless conversation. Grabbing my phone out of the cupholder, I slide my thumb across the screen before bringing it toward my ear.

  “Hello,” I grumble my greeting.

  I didn’t bother looking at the caller ID, nobody except my brothers ever call me. Until tonight.

  “When will you be home?” the voice asks.

  “Who is this?” I bark, unable to recognize the voice on the other end.

  There is a beat of silence before the person speaks again. “She’s pretty,” the voice ominously announces. “I see why you wanted her for yourself. Too bad you can’t have her. She’s been spoken for.”

  The phone goes silent, and I pull over to the side of the road. Skinner sits straight up as soon as the truck stops.

  “The fuck, what’s wrong?” he barks, his eyes as wild as his hair from being half asleep.

  My hands are trembling, they’re shaking. I know whoever that was, they were talking about Roxanne. Looking through my calls, the last call was from a private unavailable number. Fuck.

  “Someone called, sounded like they’ve been watching me and Roxie. I don’t know, sounded like they were gonna take her or some shit,” I force out through my trembling lips. Fuck, I’m a god
damn mess. We can’t have any more fucking women or children kidnapped, goddamn.

  Finding Snake’s name in my contacts, I bring the phone to my ear and listen to it ring.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks as his greeting.

  “Roxanne there?” I demand.

  He pauses for a moment, the most stressful thirty seconds of my life. “Yeah, she’s talking with Hayden and Esme, why? What’s wrong?” he barks.

  Letting out a heavy breath, I close my eyes. “Got a weird call from an unavailable number.” I take another breath before I tell him the rest of the phone conversation.

  “How far away are you from the drop-off?” he asks.

  “Five hours give or take.”

  He grunts. “Get that shit dropped off and then go straight to the clubhouse there,” he orders.

  “Roxanne?” I ask.

  “I’ll put her on lockdown. I don’t want her going anywhere until Keys can get a lock on who called. Those fucks that were in Skull’s club are still on the loose,” he reminds me.

  I curse, thinking about that fucked up club, the way they had a deal with the Aryan compound for women and dope. They were pissed when we put a stop to the compounds when we burnt them to the fucking ground. They came after Carson, Roxanne, and Axe. Well, Skull did. The rest we never saw again.

  None of us were naïve enough to think that Skull was a one-man show. He never was. An accomplice with Fish, a piece of shit, and one stupid motherfucker—that’s what he was. Those men of his, they’re around still, and I would venture to guess this is one of them.

  The compounds are gone, all of them. What women and children that could be saved are scattered all over the United States and Canada. The men, dead. It isn’t them, this is a vendetta with our own brothers, men who wanted dope and pussy above the brotherhood, men that you do not want at your back, because they’d rather stab you to save themselves than rescue you.

  “Protect her,” I rasp before I end the call.