Laced with Fear (Cash Bar Book 1)

by Hayley Faiman

  “It is?” I breathe.

  Blinking, I look around, my eyes glancing over to the only window in the room. The sun is setting outside and there’s a deep orange glow. Holy shit, I worked for hours and didn’t even realize it.

  “Gracie made dinner for everyone, c’mon down,” he says, holding out his hand.

  I shuffle my papers to the side of the bed and stand, closing the distance between us. “I can’t believe I was so focused,” I whisper. “Has anything happened with Lucifer?” I ask, taking his hand but not walking yet.

  Prescott lifts his opposite palm and wraps his fingers around the side of my neck, right where my tattoo is. He squeezes gently, his green eyes staring into mine, his mouth a straight line, lips pressed together. Shaking his head once, he lets out a puff of air. “Nothin’. He hasn’t been seen around town, he hasn’t used any credit cards anywhere, we got nothin’,” he grunts.

  “Shit,” I hiss.

  My eyes well with tears, and I hate myself for being overly emotional, but I want to go home. I want to prepare my baby’s room, and my mother is coming soon. If she thinks Evalyn and I are in danger, she’ll act crazy and demand we come home with her to Georgia.

  “Peaches,” he grunts, pulling me closer to his body. I feel his lips brush the top of my head and I shiver as I close my eyes. “There’s no sign of him, and honest to fuck I think it’s Hayden who is in the most danger. Let’s go home in the morning.”

  Lifting my head, I look up at him, craning my neck back and I smile. His lips curve into a smile as well and he snorts. “I’m so excited,” I whisper.

  I’m afraid to shout or get too, too excited because then it could all topple down around me. I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to. I have a room to decorate, I have a baby coming in just a few short months.

  “Let’s get you some food,” Prescott smirks.

  We walk down to the bar area where everybody is spread out at the tables, on sofas, and at the bar itself, shoveling food in their mouths. They’re laughing and talking, music is still playing low in the background. Everybody looks, happy.

  “Crooner?” I ask.

  I’ve been avoiding asking much about him, too scared to know the truth.

  Prescott pulls me a little tighter against his side. “I helped move him to his room this morning. He woke up, but he’s weak from the blood loss. Doctor came to visit him, and he said as long as we can keep infection away, he should make a complete recovery. It’s going to take a while to work up his strength though.”

  “How’s Hayden?” I ask.

  Prescott’s eyes drop to the ground and he lets out an exhale. “Hasn’t left his side. Gracie’s still watching Easton, but after tomorrow she’ll be going home too.”

  “Want me to have a talk with her?” I ask, referring to Hayden.

  Prescott shakes his head, his gaze drifting off to the side of the room. I look over and see Hayden standing against the wall, her eyes closed and her head resting back. She looks sad, resigned almost.

  I take a step in her direction to talk to her, but Prescott doesn’t allow me to go much farther. “Let her be, peaches,” he murmurs.

  He guides me toward the kitchen and together we make a plate of food. Gracie made her famous crockpot chicken enchiladas. I don’t know how she does it, but the woman can make anything and it’s the best food on earth.

  I pile salad on my plate, and then some refried beans as well, together Prescott and I walk toward his office. I’m surprised that he doesn’t want to sit with his brothers when I ask him about it, he only shrugs.

  Once we’re inside his office, he closes and locks the door behind him, then together we sit on the sofa, balancing our plates on our knees and begin to eat in silence. “Talk to me,” I practically demand.

  He shovels food in his face but doesn’t speak right away. I want to shake him, but I don’t. I wait, nibbling on my own dinner while I do.

  “It’s pissing me off that we don’t know dick about Lucifer. We know fucking nothing, peaches. How could he be such a goddamn ghost?” he growls.

  I sit back on the sofa, lifting my plate to rest on the top of my belly as I think about his words. “Have you tried talking to Hayden, seeing if she has any insight?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “I tried this morning. Her entire body froze solid, and her eyes, holy fuck her eyes were so haunted and panicked. I couldn’t push her. She’s beyond damaged, Ginger. I don’t know how much longer she’s really going to last here,” he mumbles.

  “Where would she go?” I gasp.

  Prescott looks at me, and something akin to pity crosses his features. “Only place she could go, some kind of facility. I don’t think she’s going to get any better, and I’m really worried about her caring for that baby all alone.”

  “She was doing well when she was going to work every day, Pres. Maybe she needs the distraction, maybe she just has too much damn time on her hands to think, and get lost inside of her own head,” I suggest.

  I remember what that was like, having too much time. Being lost inside of my own head. Some days it was absolute hell.

  Prescott’s eyes slide over to me and the corner of his mouth lifts into a small smile. “Okay, I won’t rush her, but I’m keeping an eye on her and that baby,” he grumbles.

  We continue to eat in silence, but my mind isn’t quiet. My mind is reeling, and I can’t stop thinking about Hayden. She’s so young, so freaking young. I can’t imagine going through what I went through at her age, let alone everything that’s been piled on top of her.

  She’s probably doing the best she knows how, and breathing is most likely a challenge at this point in her life. She’s strong though, and I know that she will prevail, that she will get through all of this and come out on top.

  “I want to go home, tonight,” I whisper. Just thinking about another day here is making me feel anxious.

  Prescott turns his head to the side and looks at me with an obvious question. “Why now?” he asks, his voice low and gentle.

  I set my plate on the floor and he mimics me, setting his down as well. Without a word, I crawl into his lap, straddling his hips. My knees press into either side of the sofa and I sit on his upper thighs, wrapping my hands around the side of his neck. Automatically, Prescott’s hands wrap around my ass and he squeezes me.

  “I need to be away from this place. I need to be in our space, our home. I need to finish preparing for Evalyn—I need to breathe,” I urge.

  Prescott nods once, his green eyes focused on me and very serious as he scans my face. “You need to be in your bar, making sure it’s running the way you want it to, don’t you?” he guesses.

  Lifting my chin, I give him a smirk. “I do. It’s mine, and I feel like it’s falling out of my grasp. Every time I inch my way back in there, something happens to take me away. I need the consistency,” I admit.

  “Okay, peaches. We’ll go home tonight, and you’ll be back at your bar tomorrow. It still stands that Free is your shadow until Lucifer is found. I don’t know what that sick fucker has in mind, or who he’s willing to hurt, but it won’t be you or Evalyn,” he growls.

  Placing my palms on his chest, I lean forward and press my lips against his. “Thank you,” I sigh against his mouth. He grunts, squeezing my ass a little tighter.

  I feel his fingertips against me, holding me tightly. I want them pressed against my bare skin, I want all of him pressed against my bare skin.

  Rolling my hips, I whimper when I feel his hard length beneath his jeans against my center. I want him inside of me. No, I need him inside of me.

  “Ginger,” he sighs against my mouth.

  Reaching between us, I pop the button of his jeans and slowly slide the zipper down. Reaching beneath his underwear, I wrap my hand around his length. We simultaneously moan as I gently pump his cock.

  “Take all this shit off,” he grunts, tugging at the back of my shirt. I climb off of him and quickly undress.

  My eyes dri
ft over to him every so often as he does the same. When he’s completely naked, I can’t help but lick my lips. I watch as he wraps his hand around the base of his dick and begins to stroke himself. Shamelessly I continue to watch, and shamelessly he strokes as I do.

  Pressing my thighs together, I hope to relieve a little of the ache that is beginning to build as I watch him.

  “C’mon, peaches,” he grunts.

  SNAKE

  Ginger climbs back onto my lap. My hands automatically wrap around the outsides of her thighs and I groan when she slowly sinks down on my cock.

  “Christ,” I grind out through clenched teeth as she envelops me.

  Fucking shit.

  Leaning forward, I capture one of her nipples between my teeth and gently tug.

  Ginger’s hand moves to the back of my head, her fingers fisting in the strands of my hair as she holds my mouth against her tit. Gladly, I pull her in deeper, taking as much as I can of her soft flesh in my mouth. With a shaky exhale, she starts to ride me, pressing her chest against my face with each roll of her hips.

  I take one of her ass cheeks in my hand, squeezing the flesh as I fist the other in her hair, and tug her neck back, forcing a little more of an arch.

  Shit, she’s beautiful when she’s on display for me like this. Kissing the center of her chest, I make my way to her other breast and suck it in deep.

  Ginger’s fingers tighten in my hair and she grinds down a little harder against my pelvis. Releasing her tit with a pop, I lean back against the sofa.

  Keeping my eyes glued to her, I’m content to watch her enjoy herself. Her body bowed and on display for my eyes only, I enjoy the show.

  Slowly, I shift my hand around her hip and press my thumb against her clit. I want to see her fall apart on top of me.

  I want to feel her cunt squeeze the shit out of me, and then I want to hold her body still while I do the taking before I come deep inside of her.

  Her eyes slide closed the second my thumb rolls against her pretty little clit. I watch as her mouth parts in awe and she continues to fuck me. Control used to mean so much to me, too much. Now, giving some of that control over to her, it’s the sexiest thing in the world to watch her own me.

  “So close,” she breathes.

  I grunt, moving my thumb a little harder and faster, pulling that release from her body as quickly as I can. I’m about to blow my load, and no way in fuck do I want to miss her climax, I want to take in every second of her beauty before I fall over the edge. Her fingers in my hair tug as her hips start to move faster, breaking their smooth rhythm.

  “Fuck,” I grind out. My back tingles as I draw closer toward my own climax.

  Clenching my jaw even tighter, hoping I don’t break any fucking teeth, I pinch her clit and thankfully she lets out a sob as her body starts to shake and her pussy squeezes me as she comes.

  Keeping my grip on her tight, I fuck her from beneath. Lifting my hips, I take from her just as she has taken from me and when I come, it’s fast, rushing through me with a growl.

  “Pres,” she whimpers when I finally relax back.

  Releasing my hands from gripping her tightly, I run my fingertips up and down her soft spine. Inhaling her scent when she leans over me. Her belly presses against mine and I can’t help but close my eyes at the sensation.

  “Let’s go home, peaches,” I mutter.

  “Okay,” she sighs, nuzzling her face against my neck.

  I hold her on the sofa in my shitty office for as long as she’ll let me, enjoying the way she feels pressed up against me.

  Once, I thought I had lost this.

  I thought that I would never have her in my arms again, and I brought her back to me. With all of the shit going down lately, I can’t help but feel a bit out of control. I can’t lose her again, and I can’t ever let her get hurt again—not ever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  GINGER

  Prescott kisses my lips before he leaves me for the day. Free grunts and I expect him to tell us to get a room or something equally as childish, but he doesn’t. Once Pres is gone, and I’ve watched him leave, I turn to Free. He’s got a mug of coffee in his hand, holding it to his lips, but his eyes are on me.

  “We’re shopping today, you aren’t going to be lame about it are you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

  He smiles, and it looks almost wicked before he speaks. “What do you mean by lame, Ging?” he asks, his voice smooth and low.

  “I mean, you aren’t going to complain, or try to pull some kind of bullshit move to get me to leave by claiming we’re in danger or some shit, are you?”

  He snorts. “Who would do that? Not me.”

  Rolling my eyes, I grab my purse from the kitchen table and throw the strap over my shoulder. Tossing him my Jeep keys, I walk out of the house. I have a list of shit I need to buy today.

  I found one of those ‘what baby needs lists’ online, so I’m going to try and tackle it, today. Hopefully, my mom will see everything and be impressed.

  I close my eyes on a long blink, just thinking about my mom. In just a few weeks she’s going to be here. I’m not sure I’m mentally prepared for her visit, especially since she’s not planning on leaving for a while.

  Hopefully Prescott is prepared for her brand of crazy, and the brand of crazy she turns me into when she’s being her normal nitpicky self.

  “What’s the first store?” Free asks as he clicks the button to unlock the car doors.

  I tell him the name of the baby store we’re going to and watch as his nose wrinkles. He doesn’t complain though and I’m kind of surprised.

  “Do you ever want kids?” I blurt out. I know he lost a woman years ago, but that doesn’t mean he’s dead.

  Free’s fingers grip the steering wheel of my Jeep and his nostrils flare as he inhales deeply. I decide not to push him, not to ask him anything else. I’ve always been curious though. Free is a good-looking guy, dirty blond hair, thick beard, and blue eyes. If Prescott wasn’t the man for me, my eyes would definitely wander over to Free in a crowded room.

  “I thought about a family once. When my girl died, that died with it. Besides, if I couldn’t save her, how could I protect a family?”

  I shake my head, reaching out to him and wrapping my hand around his forearm. “She had to save herself, Free. Nobody could help her unless she wanted the help. You shouldn’t live with the guilt of that forever,” I whisper.

  He grunts. “I have to, Ging. It was my fault it happened to her,” he growls. Jerking my hand from him, I shout, "How?” too loudly.

  My heart aches, no it breaks, for not only this poor girl but for Free too. “So, you’ve decided to be miserable for the rest of your life?” I ask.

  “Drop it, babe,” he growls.

  I decide to do just that and drop the whole topic. I hate it. Free is one of the nicest men I know, and I think that he deserves to find happiness.

  He shouldn’t hate himself because he didn’t know how to handle a situation a lifetime ago. He was a kid, she was a kid, and shit happens.

  I wish that I could tell him everything that I’m thinking, but I know that it wouldn’t matter. His mind is made up, and nothing will change it.

  A few minutes later we pull into the parking lot of the baby store. Suddenly, I feel nervous. My hands start to sweat, and I feel nauseous. I grip the paper in my hand tightly, not wanting to lose my grip on it.

  Free is completely unaware as he climbs down from the Jeep and jogs over to my side. He opens the door and I glance over at him. That’s when he realizes that something’s wrong.

  “Talk to me, Ging,” he murmurs.

  I shake my head once, gulping before I can speak. “I’m not ready, Free. I have the furniture, but nothing is real until I walk into that store and start shopping for all the shit I need, she needs. I’m not ready for any of it,” I whisper.

  Free smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Ready or not, here she comes, babe,” he winks. I narrow my ey
es at him and press my lips together. “Ginger, she’s coming and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You’re going to be a natural at motherhood, and Prescott is so fucking excited it’s disgusting,” he winks.

  Rolling my eyes, I slide out of the Jeep before stepping to the side. “He is pretty excited, isn’t he?” I ask.

  Free presses his hand on the small of my back, “Yeah, babe, he’s pretty excited,” he grunts.

  SNAKE

  Bodies burned, Twinkie’s property burned, bones crushed and disposed of. Now, Lucifer. That motherfucker is a ghost.

  A ghost with a gun.

  Walking toward Crooner’s door, I knock lightly before turning the knob.

  It’s dark when I step inside, and I flip the light on. Hayden is in her usual spot, her hands wrapped around his and her cheek pressed against his middle.

  Wrapping my hand around her shoulder, I give her a gentle shake. She lifts her head, and her tired eyes meet mine. Ginger told me not to talk to her about this, and I feel like a dick for doing it anyway, but I need to know how her Old Man thinks.

  “Need to talk to you in my office, babe,” I announce softly.

  She looks from me to Crooner. “Go. I’m good, Hay,” he rasps. She nods her head, turning to me, and then she stands.

  “I’ll be back in a few. We’re getting you up walking today, you lazy fucker,” I grin.

  He flips me off as I walk away, but Hayden’s back is ramrod straight as she walks in front of me. She’s stiff with every move she makes, and I wonder if I pissed her off, or if she’s just scared.

  Once we’re in my office, I close the door behind her, but I don’t lock it. Walking around to the back of my desk, I sit down in my chair and lift my hand toward the chair across from me.

  “How are you doing, Hayden?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

  She jumps slightly, and her eyes meet mine. She has dark circles under her tired looking eyes, and she looks beyond haunted. She’s barely holding on by a thread and she looks like she’s about to either puke or drop-dead right here in my office.