The stainless-steel nozzle I chose looked more like a string of anal beads than a nozzle, and Frost grinned when he saw it. “Damn, brother. She’s gonna feel that a dozen times going in, and then another dozen coming out.”
I shrugged. “Yeah. That’s the idea. I have a butt plug shaped one, too. This one will be on most of the time, since she’ll be giving them to herself.”
“The kids don’t use our shower, but Nora’s in the bathroom with Cheyenne a lot, doing girl things. Hair and makeup. This is one of those things you can get away with before you have kids, but will have to rethink once they’re old enough to start asking questions you may not want to answer.”
“We’ve agreed to have the kid conversation next summer, but I don’t think either of us will be ready yet. She’ll have to go off birth control, which means no more going next door at work. And, once she’s pregnant, she’ll be finished as a stripper. She agrees with me, there. I asked her what age our baby should be when she should stop stripping, so our child never saw her as one — toddler, preschooler, elementary school? She didn’t have an answer, so she agreed she wouldn’t go back to dancing after giving birth.”
“I’m surprised you’re okay with it now.”
He walked out of the bathroom and headed down the steps. I followed.
“I’m really not. Well, the wolf isn’t, and the human mostly isn’t, but we’d lose her if we put our foot down and made demands. Mostly because she so prided herself on her independence after she left the ambush. If I tried to force her to stop, it’d be me taking away the part of her that survived. I can’t do that. It has to be her decision.”
Frost’s brows lifted. “The yeti understands emotions. Who knew?”
“I’ve always understood ’em. You’re the one we weren’t sure about whether to call a sociopath or a psychopath.” Still weren’t, truth be told, but we were happy he’d found someone to love.
He turned and shrugged as we stepped into the kitchen. “I hit high on the tests for both, but the only way to keep Cheyenne was to try to understand her.”
I grabbed four bottles of beer from the refrigerator, a tin of cashews, and a bag of chips, and led him into the den.
“Bullshit,” I told him once we were seated. “You’ve always understood emotions on a logical level, enough to fake it when you had to. If you only needed to understand her, none of us would’ve been surprised. You figured out how to actually feel emotions.”
He glared at me while I turned the television on and then the video game console.
“I’ve felt ’em before, asshole.” He blew out a breath. “I couldn’t go to the funerals. Our brothers, their ol’ladies. Their fucking kids. I was stuck behind motherfucking bars. Caged.” He met my gaze again, and this time he let me see his pain. “Still wish there was someone I could kill to get revenge, but ya’ll handled it all while I was inside.”
Uncle Frost. He’d been uncle to nearly every child who stepped foot inside our compound, and he’d spoiled them all silly. It was the one time we saw him express emotions, because fuck knows he never showed the least bit of affection or care for the sweetbutts he fucked. Well, except Banshee, before she’d been Cheyenne. Even then, though he reached for her more than the others, he never showed affection.
Not until he lost her and then found her again.
“I’m looking forward to seeing our kids call you Uncle Frost.”
He looked away, and I knew he was going to change the subject before he did.
“She’ll have kids soon though, right? I mean, she won’t be raising them, but...”
I sighed. “Yeah. The scientists scheduled appointments to inseminate the surrogate mothers.” I looked at my hands. “Tomorrow.”
I’d wanted to be pissed that she didn’t let me take her for the egg extraction, but I understood why she didn’t. Nathan and Kirsten had taken her to Nashville in a Drake Security airplane, and then flown her back that evening. She asked me not to talk about it, and assured me she’d talked to Kirsten on the way there and back enough that she’d worked through her feelings.
I believed her, so I let it drop. Eventually, she’d need to lean on me, but for now, she was telling herself it didn’t concern me.
I didn’t point out that the children who’d be born would be my someday-children’s half siblings, and thus it most certainly concerned me. Also, that the woman I loved was dealing with the emotional bombshell of handing her babies over to someone else to raise.
“So, three or four months from now, they’ll be showing,” Frost said.
I nodded.
“And the two of you have agreed not to talk about her getting pregnant until well after that.”
“I hear you, brother, but she came up with the timing. If I think we need to talk about it before then, I’ll figure out a way to bring it up. Make her think it’s my problem.” Not that she’d actually believe me, but it’d get the conversation at least started. “I think she’s going to be okay, though. She’s talking to Kirsten, and she got to choose the mothers. It took away the guilt she’d felt about what she owed her species.”
The game finally loaded, and then we were engaged in a battle against zombies.
Chapter Forty-Four
Kitty
It was easier to take Brooke out for little playdates once the days were substantially shorter. By the time we reached November, it felt as if Squatch and I had lived together forever.
Two of the three women I’d chosen were pregnant. They’d tried IVF several times on the third, and it broke my heart that it just didn’t look like her body was going to accept the fertilized egg.
Each of them had been implanted with three eggs. One of the women was pregnant with one child, the other with twins. This meant there would still be three babies, but only two families. When I’d made the agreement, I hadn’t realized they implant multiple eggs at a time. We’d insisted on no more than three, because having seven or eight take and then having to selectively abort some of them was too horrifying to consider. Triplets wouldn’t be a big deal, and we had plenty of money to work with since the ambush was paying, so doing it several times wouldn’t be an issue, if that’s what it took.
I talked to them and kept up to date on what was happening, but there wasn’t much more for me to do from Birmingham.
So, on a crisp November evening, Squatch and I picked Brooke up, settled her in a booster seat behind us, and took her to an arcade/restaurant combo.
And no, the booster seat wasn’t absolutely necessary. Unless a car crash decapitated her, Brooke would quickly heal. However, she’d used one in South Carolina, so I bought one to use when we took her places, and it seemed to make her happy when Squatch adjusted the straps to make sure she was safe and comfortable. It’s also possible she just liked sitting taller, so she could see out.
The arcade was so much fun. We threw balls, we rode virtual motorcycles, we shot at simulated critters, and we played whatever arcade games she wanted to play. And yes, if there were none available, I’m certain she made someone decide to do something else, because one always came available. She sat on my lap while I ate cotton candy, and she sat on Squatch’s lap later when we had ice cream. We all knew she’d taste the sweetness later, when she drank from me. I even had a milkshake on the way back to her house, just to be sure my blood sugar was elevated.
A few weeks later, the three of us joined up with Frost and his family for an escape room. They allow eight in a room, and it was Frost, Cheyenne, Nora, the boys, Brooke, Squatch, and me. Eight people.
I made Brooke promise not to go into the heads of the people running the escape room. She said it wasn’t cheating by vampire law, but she could see why we’d see it that way, so she agreed.
And I watched Brooke with the kids. She was smaller than the boys, who knew she was a vampire because they could smell her, but they didn’t understand this meant she was likely more than a thousand years older than the adults.
Later that night, Squatch held her
in his lap while she drank from him, and then we all stretched out on some kind of bed-like platform and snuggled. Comfortable.
“I get it now,” I told her. “Seeing you with the kids. You aren’t a child, and yet, you have fun with them. I enjoyed playing with them too, but seeing them from a child’s body instead of looking down at them...” I stopped because I didn’t want to cause pain. She’d never grow up. Never look down on them as an adult.
“Nora is a bit old for the right connections to happen,” Brooke told us, “but if I’m allowed to be around the boys as they grow older, an attachment will form. Or it usually does. It means they’ll have political clout in our world, of course, but it will also mean I’ll have friends who’ve grown up around me. It means something.”
She turned a little and looked up at Squatch. “I think it’s probably time I talked to Mad Dog about the agreements we formed years ago. It’s no longer merely a feeding a month in exchange for me allowing the club to purchase my services. It hasn’t been for a while. It’s time we talk about a more involved treaty between us. An agreement between friends rather than mere political allies.”
“I appreciate that, but what does the MC have that we can offer? A tighter relationship helps us because most everyone is terrified of you. How will it help you?”
“Friendship. The ability to come to your daytime indoor festivities, so I can spend time with your people in a social situation. I have no desire to come to your after-hours parties, but I’d love to be able to get to know the women better. The ol’ladies, as you say. I can see them in Kitty’s mind, and it’s been a long time since I was friends with others in that way.”
“Would you like for me to sit down with you and Mad Dog?” Squatch asked.
She turned and snuggled backwards into him. “Perhaps. I would also like to talk to Frost about helping him out with his sadistic urges. I enjoy having a partner to share my kills with; someone who can help in the torturing. I don’t think Frost’s needs are being met.”
Sometimes, Brooke says something alarming, or sickening, and you get the idea she honestly doesn’t understand how different she is than most everyone else on the planet. And yet, it’s who she is, and I never want to make her feel as if I’m judging her, so I have to channel my thoughts in the hopes she won’t pick up on it.
“I don’t think my kitten knew about Frost’s proclivities, Brooke.”
She frowned for a second, and shrugged. “He’s a sadist. He needs to hurt people sometimes. Usually, he finds jobs that need doing. I don’t think the current Owl King is utilizing him as the former one did. Whether that’s because they’re handling their wet-work in house, or are finding other ways, I don’t know, though I’ve decided I need to know more about the new king’s inner policies, so I’ll know soon enough. Either way, it feels as if I need to clear my intentions regarding Frost with your president. I know your club acts as a democracy, but Frost still belongs to the club, which is run by Mad Dog, so he should know.”
“I don’t think you have to involve our Prez, but it’s probably better if you do.”
I considered the politics. In the Pack, Brooke would have to go to the Alpha to involve a member in what amounted to murder. If Frost were a lion, she wouldn’t have to go to the Amakhosi, but since she has a good relationship with him, she likely would. Depending on her treaty with the owls, she might have to go to the Owl King about an owl, but Frost had basically been kicked out of owl society, which is why he could be in the MC. Frost didn’t belong to Mad Dog the way he would’ve belonged to his king, but he did belong to the MC. I could see her logic.
“I’m not sure that was a secret that was yours to tell,” Squatch told her.
She was once again quiet a few moments. “It wasn’t a supernatural secret. I didn’t break a Concilio law. Nor did I break a Slayer law.”
Squatch shook his head. “But you told Kitty a secret about him that should be his to tell. He might not want her knowing of his proclivities.”
“And he’s your brother. You feel the need to protect him.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve had so much fun playing with...” She sighed. “Another Master Vampire. He loves to torture, and he doesn’t mind letting me make the final kill. I’m good with alternating, but he enjoys the torture aspects more than the killing, so he’s happy to let me feel them as they take their final breath, and as their heart beats for the final time. However, he makes the torture sexual. I’m good with that because it’s fun to watch him rape their ass, and their throat, and sometimes a hole we punch in their belly. Their humiliation is practically divine, sometimes. However, I think Frost will help me torture without the sexual aspect.”
She ran a hand over my hair. “Kitty watched Mike’s torture and death, and she took pleasure in it because he’d hurt her, but it wasn’t revenge for her. It’s hard to explain the difference between justice and revenge, but it’s there, and it was the former, for her. I’ll never ask her to help me torture and kill. She won’t enjoy it.”
“Thank you.” And I meant it. I had no desire to see her in action.
Brooke turned her head to look at Squatch behind her. “But you have two people I believe will enjoy partnering with me.”
“Two?” Squatch asked.
“Frost and Freckles.”
“Freckles still needs to be voted in. I’m not certain he will be. He’s a bit of a hot-head. He’ll have to prove to us he can calm the fuck down.”
“He can. He’ll never be an enforcer, but he learned his lesson when...” They went silent, and I knew they were telepathing. Clearly, she knew more about the MC’s secrets than me, but since she can read everyone’s mind, it wasn’t like I could be jealous.
And yet, I was. Just a teeny, tiny bit.
“Ya’ll are being rude,” I told them.
“Freckles and another prospect got in one too many fights,” Squatch told me, “so I dragged them downstairs and made them fight for real — loser turns his patches in and walks out. When Freckles won, we were clear that we were tired of his shit and it was going to take a lot longer before he had a chance of being voted in.”
“I wasn’t demanding you tell me.”
“I know.”
“I apologize,” Brooke told me. “It wasn’t until I’d started the sentence that I realized I knew something you didn’t.”
“I’m pretty sure I know more than most of the ol’ladies. Not Velvet, because I think she knows everything, but Squatch tells me a lot. That wasn’t really something I needed to know. Mostly, I want to know about the stuff that affects Squatch — something he could be arrested for, or something that could get him hurt or killed.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Kitty
I met Ember, Velvet, and Tess at a little mom-and-pop place for brunch the following Saturday. Well, I rode there with Velvet, and the other two ladies were dropped off by their men. I wore a tracking bra, and had trackers in my shoes, and another in my purse, because Squatch is a worry wart.
I’m pretty sure the other women weren’t being tracked by their men, but I’d decided this wasn’t a big deal, in the grand scheme of our lives.
The other ol’ladies and I had planned our day out, mapping the stores we’d shop and the things we most wanted to purchase.
We were halfway through our meal when Tess told me, “I work out at a place that’s as much about socializing and being seen as it is about the workouts, which are brutal. There’s a pole class, where rich suburban housewives learn fancy tricks so they can feel like an exotic stripper. The teacher for that class also teaches a barre class I take, and she smelled pregnant a few days ago. I doubt she knows it yet. I’m betting that if you walk in and introduce yourself, inquire as to whether they need another teacher, they’ll remember you when she has to quit because she’s pregnant.”
I’d looked through sites with available jobs a few times, and been frustrated because I’m not qualified for anything I’d actually want to do. I’d considered
going to college, but to be honest, I didn’t really want to. I enjoy stripping. Would I enjoy teaching other women how to do pole work?
“Thanks for thinking of me,” I told Tess. “It’s something I hadn’t considered, because I had no idea it even existed.”
“Bobcat wouldn’t be okay with me stripping,” Tess said, “and he’s a cat. I can’t imagine what it’s doing to Squatch. I figure you’ll need to make a change soon, and I can’t see you ever asking him for money, which means you need another job. This probably won’t pay even close to what you make dancing, but it’ll give you an opportunity to take on some personal trainer gigs, and that should pay quite well.”
Our day was a wild rush of shopping and laughing. Shy joined us later in the day, in time for her to buy some kick-ass boots and a shirt that highlighted her boobs and abs. Even while we got our manicures, we cut up and joked. Later, we all got ready in the bedroom Velvet shares with Mad Dog at the clubhouse — helping each other with hair and makeup, modeling the outfits we’d bought to wear that evening. There was a new sweetbutt, which meant the men without ol’ladies would be downstairs most of the night, pulling a train on her. Our men would hang out down there some, and I’d told Squatch he could have a go at her. Honestly, I figured Bobcat probably would as well, because I didn’t think cats or mongooses got caught up in monogamy, but I didn’t know, and wasn’t comfortable asking.
However, it was clear that Mad Dog would not be participating. Not if he wanted to keep his balls attached to his body, anyway. Velvet wanted the ol’ladies to make the evening special for our men, so here we were. It seemed best that I didn’t share the fact I’d given Squatch the okay to fuck the new girl, and I assume if the other ol’ladies had done the same, they were keeping it to themselves as well.
It turned out to be a fun night, with just the couples upstairs, hanging out. All the sweetbutts were downstairs, and most of the brothers. Our four went downstairs a few times to watch the fun (or join in, based on Squatch’s scent), and brothers came and went — some were working at the spa or at Blaze, and took a break to come to the clubhouse and take a few turns on the new girl.
Squatch (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 4) Page 33