Still blushing, she smiled and said, “Hi, Badge. Surprise!”
He said nothing, just stared. Then he backed off a couple of steps and turned toward the couches arranged in one large corner of the room. There was a really pretty blonde girl leaning on a wall, talking to a couple of other pretty girls. Adrienne stood where she was and watched Badger grab the blonde by the arm and lead her to one of the couches. He sat, pulling the girl down in front of him, until she was kneeling between his legs. With barely a pause, she started opening his jeans. Badge put his hand on her head and leaned back on the couch, his eyes closed.
Adrienne felt sick, but she couldn’t stop staring. She stood there like a fool and watched the blonde pull Badger’s dick out—right there in the middle of everything—and then stick it in her mouth.
Her stomach rolled dangerously.
They were just friends—if that. He barely talked to her anymore. She had no business feeling like she did, but that didn’t change anything. It hurt. A lot.
A hand went around her arm, and she jumped. “Come on, doll. Come finish your beer. Show’ll be out in a second.”
“I don’t want it.” She could not look away. Badger’s hand clenched in the blonde’s hair as she bobbed up and down on him.
Adrienne had never even done that to anybody, and there Badger was, getting it done in public. Nobody else even seemed to notice.
“Adrienne. Come on. This way.” Len pulled harder and put his other arm around her shoulders, forcing her to put her back to the scene on the couch. He led her back to the bar and sat her down on the stool.
“Not what it looks like, darlin’.”
She made herself shrug. She didn’t know Len very well, so she didn’t know why he thought he could talk about this with her, or why he thought she’d care who was sucking Badger’s dick. But she knew he was trying to be nice. “It’s exactly what it looks like, but it’s not my business. We’re just friends. Maybe not even that anymore.” If that was true, then why had she just driven her forty-four-year-old car more than a thousand miles in two days?
Because she was worried about Badger. Who didn’t care about her at all.
Len gave her a hard look with his good eye. “Okay. There’s just more to it than you think.”
“Whatever.”
As she was about to just leave on her own and not wait for Show, he came around the bar, and she felt his hand on hers. “Come on, little one. Let’s go home. You’ve gotta be exhausted from your drive.”
“Yeah. I am.” She was feeling a lot more tired than she had been when she’d come in, that was for sure. She let Show wrap her hand up with his and lead her out to the lot.
~oOo~
It was chilly when Adrienne woke up the next morning in the little room she stayed in. More of a big closet than a room, really, with its sloped ceiling and narrow layout. But she liked the purple walls and the cozy feel. She knew it had once been Show’s daughter’s room. Daisy, who’d died before Adrienne had known Show or Shannon.
Show had two other daughters, Iris and Rose, who shared the other bedroom. They were teenagers, living with their mother in Arkansas or someplace like that. Adrienne had only met them once, though they visited a lot more often than she ever had. They were nice, though. Cute and sweet. And they sure loved their daddy. There was a lot to love about Show.
Since it was early on a Saturday morning, Adrienne scooted deeper into the covers and closed her eyes, letting her mind wander. It ran into Badger first, but she made it turn away, not yet ready to confront her feelings about the night before, or the recent months, or why she’d packed so much stuff and driven to Signal Bend practically on a whim, worried about a guy who didn’t care about her anymore.
Well, he was mostly why she’d come. She thought it was mostly him.
She’d asked Shannon if she could stay for a while, and Shannon had been enthusiastic about her being with them as long as she liked. Adrienne had been thinking she’d stay until summer. Maybe even longer. Her father was not happy about this decision.
Charles Renard was an academic, a tenured professor of world literature at the state university in New Paltz. He was a quiet, thoughtful man, who managed both to be strict and to deny his children very little. Since Adrienne’s mom—her real one, who’d raised her—had died when Adrienne was in high school, her father had closed ranks around his family, directing his attention away from his career and spending as much time with his children as he could. Adrienne had twin brothers, Remy and Roe, who were now fifteen, and they were proving to be a handful in ways Adrienne had never been. She’d always been a good girl, never finding a reason to rebel against a family she’d loved.
Adrienne and her brothers were all adopted, which had never been a secret. It wouldn’t have been a secret anyone could have kept, even had her parents been inclined to try. Her father was Jamaican, with skin the deep brown tone of bittersweet chocolate. Her mother had been a WASP, with brown hair and eyes. Her brothers were Korean, and Adrienne, the family joke was, looked like she’d been born in Brigadoon, with curly, bright red hair, freckles, and deep blue eyes.
In truth, she looked strikingly like her bio-mom, Shannon. That had been a real shock, meeting her and knowing the truth instantly.
Her parents had always been supportive of any curiosity she’d had about her biological parents, but she’d never really had much. Her parents were her parents, and the only set she’d needed. But when her mother passed away, and Adrienne had found old journals she’d kept, chronicling her struggles to get pregnant, her devastation at learning she could not, their arduous journey to adopt, and her mother’s vividly expressed bliss at bringing her new daughter home, Adrienne had suddenly, desperately wanted to meet the woman who had brought her into the world and made her mother so happy.
And now she knew Shannon and Show, and she had grown to love them both. That wasn’t why her father was unhappy that she’d come. He wasn’t jealous or threatened, and he had no cause to be. But he didn’t like what he knew about the life Shannon and Show led, and he didn’t like what he believed Adrienne was giving up to spend any significant time in Missouri.
The world in which Shannon and Show lived—Signal Bend, the Night Horde—was completely different from anything Adrienne had known before, but that was part of the appeal. She’d been brought up in a college town in New York State, a couple of hours from New York City. She’d graduated from Columbia University, living for more than four years in the heart of that city. Her family was international, and she’d begun traveling the world at a young age. Her parents were both academics, so her life had been comfortably middle class from her birth. It had always been a life as big as she’d wanted it to be.
Signal Bend was so different it was almost like a new dimension in time and space. The town was tiny. Everyone seemed to know everyone and care about what everyone was doing. The Horde seemed to be more in charge than the mayor.
She’d seen the same movie her father had. She knew they’d been into some bad things, or at least illegal things, and that bad things had happened in the town. But while that knowledge made her father worry, it made Adrienne curious. Until recently, Signal Bend had seemed quaint—sleepy, even—and the Horde had been just a bunch of nice guys with a couple of extra helpings of testosterone. Something had changed, though, and she didn’t know enough to know what.
She’d spent a year teaching English in South Korea and then had rattled around Asia on her own for a few months, and since she’d come home, she’d been at loose ends, not sure what she wanted to do with her life. At her father’s encouragement, she’d chosen a degree according to her interests and inclination rather than job prospects, so she had a double major in Fine Arts and English. Most of the jobs available to her with that kind of education were of the intern variety—gopher jobs for no or low pay, intended to get her foot in the door toward a career as a curator or editor or something. That wasn’t what she wanted. At all.
She wanted to take pictur
es. Of the whole world, writ large and small both.
But since she wasn’t quite sure how to do that and make a living, she’d been kicking around her family house for months, nannying part time, regressing back to her high school stage—and it had been shockingly comfortable. She thought maybe some time in Signal Bend, trying to fix things with Badger and maybe helping Shannon out during her pregnancy, might at least shake her up a little.
Her father, though, saw only backtracking. Hiding from the world. In a place where shootouts happened on Main Street.
One shootout, Papa. Just one.
Finally bestirring herself from the narrow bed, Adrienne dug her slouchy sweater out of her rucksack and, after a quick trip to the bathroom, headed down to the kitchen to see if breakfast, or at least coffee, was possible.
She’d think about Badger later. Maybe.
Coffee was definitely possible. As Adrienne came downstairs and headed down the main hallway, the aroma of brewing or freshly brewed coffee nearly grabbed her by the nose and pulled her forward to the kitchen.
Adrienne really liked their kitchen. She liked the whole house, but the kitchen was her favorite room, all done in a soft yellow and grey, with bright accents of a limey-green color—chartreuse. It was cheerful and tasteful. The cabinets and table were heavy wood and looked old, but the appliances were new. It was kind of a mishmash, but visually it was perfect. Not too staged, not too haphazard. Shannon had an eye.
Shannon was standing at the stove, wearing a black silk robe, her dark red hair clipped into a loose bundle on the back of her head.
“Morning!” Adrienne went straight for the coffee.
Shannon turned with a smile. She was making oatmeal. “Morning, Ade. It’s a nice surprise to have you here already. It was a nice surprise to have you back so soon at all—and maybe to stay longer? That makes me happy.”
After she stirred her four teaspoons of sugar into her coffee, Adrienne went over and kissed Shannon’s cheek. “I’m happy to be here. I just kinda need to…reset, you know? If that’s okay? I guess I have some culture shock or something after Asia. I don’t know. But I needed some distance, so I could figure out my next thing.”
“Well, we’re happy to be your distance.”
Shannon was about three months pregnant, and she was showing already, despite being generally thinner than usual. She also looked tired. Though she didn’t complain much, Adrienne knew that pregnancy had been hard on her so far. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, really. A lot less puking during the past week or so. I’m about out of the first trimester, so they tell me I should feel great any time now.” She laughed like she didn’t believe that.
“Was it like this when you were pregnant with me?” Adrienne sat down at the table.
“You know, I don’t really remember. I was so young, and there was so much going on. I wish I remembered.” She turned and smiled. “I remember the first time I felt you kick, though. That was wild. From that point on, you were practicing your dance moves nonstop.”
Adrienne laughed. “Funny—since I can’t dance even a little now. Hey—you have a wedding today, right?”
“Yep. A small one this afternoon. Very low key, only forty-six guests. But pretty.”
“You need any help?” Adrienne had helped a few times, running interference for minor questions or helping set up. It was fun.
“Yeah? That would be great. That would be wonderful, actually.”
“Cool!”
Showdown came into the kitchen then and smiled at them both. “Now, this is a great sight for a man to start his morning. Two gorgeous redheads in their pajamas.” He bent down and kissed Adrienne’s cheek. Then he stood behind Shannon and kissed her neck, his hands on her hips. “Morning, missus.”
“Morning. I made oatmeal for breakfast.”
Show looked into the pot. He hesitated only briefly, then said, “I see that. I’m sorry, hon, but I need an early start. Only time for coffee.”
Show did a lot of things well, but he wasn’t a good liar. Adrienne could tell that he was ducking out of breakfast, and Shannon certainly could, too. She stiffened and turned, and, to Adrienne’s stark surprise, her face crumpled into near-tears. “But I made you breakfast. Oatmeal with cinnamon and raisins. Like you like.”
“Hey, hey. I’m sorry.” Show lifted Shannon’s chin on his finger. “Thank you. I can stay for a minute and have bowl.”
“No. Never mind.” She threw the wooden spoon she’d been using to stir the oatmeal, and it landed in the sink. “Just screw it and go.”
“Shannon. Hon, come on. I love that you make me breakfast.”
And then the waterworks came on full force. Through her gush of tears she moaned, “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I know I’ve been making oatmeal every day for weeks, but it’s the only thing that doesn’t sound gross in the morning. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be like Holly. I’m sorry.”
Now Show grabbed his wife’s head in both his huge hands and forced her face to meet his. “Hon, you need to stop that. You’re not anything like Holly. I know you’re not feeling right. I’m not mad. I love you. Okay? Okay?”
She sniffled and nodded, and he pulled her into his arms and held her close. Adrienne felt weird and guilty, sitting at the kitchen table watching that uncomfortably intimate moment unfold, but she didn’t know how to leave without drawing attention to herself. So she sat and stared at her coffee.
Then Show sat down and Shannon served out bowls of oatmeal. It was pretty good. Not so good Adrienne would want to eat it every day for weeks, but then, she was neither pregnant nor married to someone who was.
CHAPTER TWO
Badger woke up stiff and disoriented, and sick as a dog. Dog. Fuck. Weasel.
He opened his eyes, knowing the truth already. He was still at the clubhouse. He hadn’t been back to the B&B since the previous afternoon.
He hoped Kenny had been there to bring the animals in and do the evening feed and tend. Though Kenny was supposed to have been off at five. Fuck.
Shoving a sleeping Jerri Rae off his lap, Badger stood. The room spun, and he almost fell over, but he kept his feet and started to put his dick away—oh, wait. He was still wearing a condom, now sticky and deflated-looking. The sight turned his stomach.
Really turned his stomach. He hightailed it to the main bathroom, diving to his knees in front of the toilet just in time. He retched forever, his stomach cramping fiercely, his throat burning, and his head shrieking. And his chest felt like it was tearing apart. How could it hurt so much? He had almost no sensation on the surface, the part he could touch, that anybody could touch, but underneath—it got to burn and stretch so much sometimes it was all he could do not to take his blade and cut himself free of the pain.
“Badge? You okay?”
He hadn’t managed to get the door closed, and Jerri Rae was standing in the doorway, looking disheveled and still half-drunk. The sight of her sickened him all over again. She was his friend Billy’s little sister, and he’d spent most of the night with his dick in one of her holes or another. He’d known her since she was just little, and now she was nothing but club pussy.
And oh shit, Adrienne. He’d done that on purpose, too. Why?
Shame and self-revulsion twisted up inside him and turned itself on Jerri Rae. “Get the fuck away from me, bitch.” His words echoed against the porcelain bowl of the toilet.
Jerri Rae jumped back as if he’d struck her. “Geez. Badge. You don’t have to be mean. When did you get mean?” Her pretty face smeared with makeup and hurt feelings, she turned and walked away.
Badger rolled to sit on his ass against the wall. His nose was running freely, and he had the shakes. He was sore all over.
He needed to get level. Like, three hours ago.
But he didn’t keep any in the clubhouse—that would be an express ticket to a bullet in his head, if any of his brothers found his stash.
So he needed
to get to the B&B. On his bike. With the shakes.
And fuck, there was a wedding today. The bride wanted to ride in on Toby. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He flushed the toilet, stood up, turned the cold tap on full blast in the sink, and stuck his head under. When he felt marginally more human, he headed carefully out to his bike.
~oOo~
He almost dropped his bike twice—once while he was still in the motherfucking clubhouse lot—but he managed to get himself to the B&B.
And the horses and goats were still loose. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckety fuck.
But Shannon’s car wasn’t around; it was still early, the morning light still heavy and grey. Badger ran to the goats—who weren’t fenced in—and found Weasel, sitting in his customary place on a short stack of hay bales. The dog whined when Badger approached him.
“Hey, Weez. Sorry, bud. Gimme a minute. I’ll get it straightened out.”
If he could. He was losing control of everything, falling into a pit. And he didn’t know the way out.
But he knew one way not to care, so he left Weasel still in charge of the goats and headed for his office. A couple of minutes later, he didn’t care so much. It took him a few minutes more to remember to care about anything, but then he did, and he moved the goats into their enclosed pen, and he brought the horses into the barn for their morning feed and grooming. Weasel, relieved from duty, took a couple of bites from his bowl and then went straight to his sleeping pad in Badger’s office.
He was a great dog. Badger figured he’d stayed awake and alert all night. He knew he should feel guilty about that, and he would. Later. Right now, he felt okay, and he needed to feel okay.
Itchy, but okay.
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