Knowing what I need to do to get this crazy crowd out, I reach behind me and pull my pistol from the back of my jeans.
Then I walk over and grab one of the rowdy assholes by the back of the head, slamming his face down onto a table.
This gets the attention of every drunk bastard in the room.
If this doesn’t show them I’m serious, then I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna have to do to get them out and I really don’t feel like getting my hands bloody tonight.
With a growl, I raise my pistol and lift a brow when Cape turns to me with a clenched jaw. He’s not used to many people standing up to him, but I’m not like most people. I’ve put up with scary motherfuckers like him my whole damn life. “I said the party is over. Now get your crew out of here before I put a bullet in someone’s leg. Any fucking one will do.”
Cape’s dark eyes stay on me as he tilts back his beer, not stopping until it’s empty. He’s so damn wasted that he knows not to push me too far tonight. He can barely stand, let alone fight. He and I both know his gigantic ass will fall.
The same goes for his crew. One call to Royal and Mark and it’ll end up being a shit night for them all.
After a few seconds, he finally laughs and slams his empty bottle down on the nearest table. “All right. Cool.” He stumbles over, trying to keep his balance as he reaches for his leather cut. “Let’s go before pretty Jax over there puts a bullet in someone’s leg. I’m not sober enough to dig bullets out of any of your asses tonight.”
His jaw clenches again as he gives me one last look, letting me know he’s no damn pussy. I wouldn’t mistake him for one, but doesn’t mean I’m willing to back down and let him and his dipshits walk all over me.
Fuck that shit. I’ve been walked over way too many times in the past to let that happen now.
I release his guy’s head and take a seat on one of the tables, watching closely as Cape and his guys gather their belongings to leave.
Once the bar is empty, I lock up and make my way to the tattoo room to find Blaine’s ass passed out with the tattoo gun sitting in his lap.
His pants are half-way down his thighs as if he was ready to give his dick a tattoo or something.
You never know with this guy. Wouldn’t surprise me one bit.
Just to mess with him, I step on the foot switch and start the gun, digging it into his exposed thigh.
It takes me drawing a long, crooked line before he finally moves a bit, his eyes opening and then quickly closing again.
“Seriously, motherfucker,” I mutter.
All right, if he’s going to sit here passed out like a dumbass, exposed for me to mark his skin, the asshole can’t complain.
Pulling up the leather chair, I take a seat and start working on the nickname Blaine got back when we were in high school.
I still haven’t forgiven this dirty prick for what I walked in on. It was the last thing I wanted to witness.
Ever.
Truthfully, it made me want to bleach my fucking eyes out.
It’s not until I get down to the final letter that he finally starts moving around again as if he’s about to wake up. So, I push harder, hoping the dumbass does.
After what he put me through tonight, I hope this shit hurts like hell.
“What the fucking fuck?” He wakes up, scared, looking around the room in a panic as if he’s being attacked.
He finally relaxes a bit, his wide eyes going back to normal once he realizes it’s only the two of us in the room.
“All done, buddy.” I slap his leg and spin the chair around to set the tattoo gun down on the table.
“What?” He sits up, mumbling shit that I can’t quite make out. “Done with what? How long was my ass out for?”
I slap his thigh where I just tattooed it and laugh. “Long enough.”
After blinking a few times, he finally looks down at the spot I just marked on him.
“Mother fucker,” he reads. “Really. Shit, that was like seven years ago. Your mom loved it and you know it.”
“Fuck you. Let’s go.” I toss his jacket at his face. “I’m tired.”
“The bar is closed?” he questions, while practically falling out of the chair to stand up. “Did I miss any action?”
“Pull your pants up, dumbass.”
Smiling like an idiot, he reaches for his jeans and fixes them. “Don’t be jealous because my cock is bigger than yours, pretty boy.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say just to shut him up. “Oh, and since your dumbass can’t drive your motorcycle home, I called Royal to come get you. I’m not driving you home bitch on the back of my bike.”
“Shiiiit.” he groans. “I don’t need Royal to pick me up. He’s going to kill my ass for dragging him out of bed. You know that, right?”
I smile and shut the door behind us, turning off the lights on the way back into the bar. “Hell yeah I do.”
A few minutes later we hear an angry growl as Royal appears in the back doorway, looking as if he just crawled out of bed. “Blaine! I should kill you for pulling me away from my family at three in the damn morning.”
“Wait a minute . . .” Blaine looks Royal over, walking around him as if he’s looking for something. I have a feeling I know what too. “No pistol?” He begins patting Royal’s back, feeling for one. “Good. Let’s go then.”
“Don’t get too excited, dick.” Royal lifts the front of his shirt, revealing his gun. “I’m half tempted to use it if you don’t hurry the hell up so I can get back home. Your intoxicated ass is sleeping on the couch, by the way. The one in the damn basement. Let’s go.”
I laugh at Blaine’s sour-ass face and begin cleaning up some of the bottles littered around the room. “I need to clean this shit up before I head out. I’ll be good.”
“Alright, brother,” Royal says, while stopping at the door. “Appreciate it.” He gives Blaine a shove toward the door. “Leave the rest for this drunken idiot. He can take care of it in the morning.”
“Well shit . . .” Blaine mumbles, while walking out the door.
I laugh at Blaine’s stupidity and get to making my way around the bar, dragging the garbage can with me.
About an hour later, I make my way out the door and straddle my bike, taking the long way home.
The cool night air hitting my face feels good, but it’s not enough to take the edge off. I realize that as soon as I step into my house and shut the door behind me.
Taking a moment to chill, I fall back onto the worn-out leather couch and pull the half-smoked joint from my pocket, placing it between my lips.
I allow my gaze to scan over my new place, taking in the mess of boxes still needing to be unpacked. It wasn’t until I began this moving process that I realized how much junk I’ve accumulated over the years while living with Royal.
Although Royal and Avalon both gave me their blessing to stay with them for as long as I wanted, I felt the need to give them space as a family. A place where they can be alone and not have to worry about Blaine and I coming in at late hours of the night drunk and high off our asses.
Blaine seems to hate his place, so he’s been alternating his nights between staying here and Royal’s, crashing on the couch downstairs. I have a feeling it’s because he doesn’t like to be alone in his fucked-up head. The kid has a lot of demons up there that he allows to swallow him whole at times.
I can’t let that shit happen, so I keep my eye on him as much as I can before we end up losing him.
Closing my eyes, I take a few hits off the joint, holding the smoke in for as long as I can, before slowly releasing it.
It doesn’t take long for me to get lost in my thoughts, allowing memories of Alexandra to take over. This shit always happens when I get high, but apparently, I enjoy the pain, because I always seem to light up another, knowing damn well where my head will take me.
If thirteen years haven’t been enough time to erase her from my thoughts, I don’t think I ever will. Her pale blonde hair and brui
se-covered skin created by her father is unforgettable. She looked to me for safety away from her hell and I gave it to her for as long as I could.
It only seems I think about her more with time. I’m constantly wondering where she is and how’s she doing. There’s so much shit I want to know, but can’t seem to find the answers for and I hate it.
Just as I’m beginning to relax for the first time all night, my front door opens to Blaine and Madison letting themselves in.
“Miss me, motherfucker?” He grins and shuts the door behind them. “Told you I didn’t need Royal to pick me up. I’m recharged and ready to go.”
I know exactly where this is headed.
It won’t be the first time Blaine and I have shared a girl, but it’ll be the first time it’s been Madison. Which surprises me since he’s been so stingy with her, even though they’re both fucking other people.
Truthfully, I don’t think he’s capable of claiming any woman as his. That’s exactly why he’s here now. He’s getting too close and needs me to fuck some sense into their situation.
Shit, maybe I need this distraction right now.
The room is silent, none of us bothering to speak as Blaine comes up behind Madison and runs his hands down her sides as if he’s admiring her curves.
Her gaze locks on me, her eyes filled with need, as Blaine lifts her dress and wraps both his hands around her thong, lowering it down her long legs.
On his way back up he bites her ass, before slapping it and grabbing the back of her neck as he stands, to whisper in her ear. “Turn around and ride his dick,” he growls. “Fuck him good and hard and then I’ll fuck you while he watches. We both know how long you’ve wanted to test drive his cock.”
“You’re not the only dirty one here, Blaine.” She bites her bottom lip as she reaches down to undo my jeans and pull my hard cock out. “You look like you need this tonight, Jax—a distraction for all of us.”
I clench my jaw and watch as she grabs a condom from Blaine, opens it, and slides it over my dick. “You’re right,” I growl, as she turns around to face Blaine before spreading her legs and straddling my thighs. “I do need a damn distraction right now.”
Yeah, because now I’m so fucked-up that I have two women on my mind. One I’ll most likely never see again and one that I’m hoping I never see again, because just seeing her once I know she’ll be enough to shake my world up.
Blaine steps up to Madison and wraps his hands into the back of her hair, slowly pushing her down onto my cock until she can’t go any further.
Madison lets out a satisfied moan, her nails digging into my thighs as I grip her hips and squeeze.
I wait until Blaine has a chance to pull his cock out and swipe it across Madison’s lips before I begin thrusting hard and deep, taking my sexual frustration out on her pussy.
She opens her lips and moans around Blaine’s dick as I take her. Apparently, she likes it rough, because she takes his dick in deep, sucking it hard as Blaine tugs on her hair.
“Fuuuuck . . .” My fingers dig into her hips, most likely bruising her flesh as I guide her up and down on my dick, causing her to scream around Blaine’s.
This has Blaine shoving her face further down his dick, making her gag on his length.
There’s nothing gentle about the way Blaine and I fuck. It takes a down ass woman, just as crazy as us when it comes to sex to be able to handle both of us.
Me fucking her pussy while Blaine fucks her mouth has her clenching around my dick in no time, her whole body shaking above me as her orgasm rolls through her.
She screams out, gripping at the wall as I pick her up and slam her against it. My hands tangle into her wild hair and I pull back on it as I take her hard and fast.
It doesn’t take long before I’m pulling out and running my hand over my shaft as I come into the condom.
Blaine barely gives her a moment to breathe before he picks her up, wraps her legs around his waist and pushes her down onto his cock.
This has her moaning out, scratching at his back as she fights to catch her breath.
I have to admit that a rough fuck is exactly what I needed tonight, but now I’m just ready to sit back and chill. It feels as if I haven’t had a moment to breathe all day.
Sitting back on the couch, I pull the condom off and toss it, before lighting up a cigarette and watching Blaine knock over some boxes as he roughly fucks Madison.
As good as it felt being inside her, I can tell by the way Blaine is taking her now—his gaze on hers as he buries himself deep inside her—that he cares about her more than he leads on.
I thought it’d be us in the beginning, when I first met Madison a year ago. But every time I thought about getting close to her, I thought about the girl from my past that stole my heart and disappeared with it.
Maybe it’s time I finally move on, but fuck, it won’t be easy . . .
Thirteen Years Ago . . . Age Thirteen
I’M PISSED OFF AS I stand against the wall and watch my mother crawl around the bedroom, looking for her precious pills; little white circles she calls Oxy.
She can barely even move right now without me helping her, but she wants more, as if she’ll die without them.
How could she want more?
“Where are they, Jaxon?” she cries, slapping the floor in defeat. “Why do you do this to me? Give them to me. Now! I know you have them.”
“No.” My voice is strong, firm. It has to be to make it through moments like these with her. “You might as well give up, Jan. You won’t find any lying around this shithole room. I flushed them down the toilet.”
She looks up at me, her eyes wet and rimmed with red. Her brown hair is a tangled, sweaty mess as she tugs on it. “Get out! Get the fuck out of my room you little shit. I hate you! I should’ve never had you.”
I ignore her words, because I’ve heard them all before. In the beginning it hurt, but I’m numb to them now.
Years of dealing with a sick, drug addict for a mother will do that.
“You need to eat. You haven’t eaten in days.” I hold the plate out for her, but she uses what energy she has to reach up and slap it out of my hand.
“I don’t want that shit. I can’t eat and you know it.” She lies down on the floor, curls up into a ball, and begins rocking back and forth. “I can’t take this anymore. I can’t. Just give me my pills, Jaxon. Please . . . just be a good boy for once and take care of me. Do this for Mommy.”
My chest aches as I crouch down in front of her, grab the sandwich from the dirty carpet and set it down in front of her face.
It hurts me to see my mom this way, even though she hasn’t been much of a mother to me. Not since I was eight. She gave me life, though, and that’s a good enough reason for me to want to take care of her. “I’m not leaving this room until you eat.”
She watches me as I take a seat on the floor and lean against the foot of the bed.
My mother knows me well enough to know that once I sit down with her there’s no getting me out of her room unless she physically throws me out and we both know she’s too weak to do that.
“Fine.” She sits up and reaches out her shaky hand. “I’ll eat the damn sandwich if it gets you out of my room. I want to be alone.”
Keeping my gaze on her, I hand her the sandwich and make sure she’s really eating it and not just hiding it like she’s done in the past.
It takes her a good twenty minutes but she finally finishes the sandwich, all except for a few small bites that she throws onto the floor. “There . . . are you happy?”
I help my mom to her feet and get her situated in bed, just like I do most nights. “Yeah, I am, actually. Because now I can go to sleep tonight knowing that you have something in her stomach other than just pills and alcohol. You’re going to end up killing yourself someday and I can’t just sit back and watch you do this to yourself.”
She doesn’t say anything.
Instead, she closes her eyes and pulls the blanket up ov
er her head. She’s done listening to me and this is her way of hiding from me.
She’s been doing it since I was old enough to argue back with her.
I stand back and watch her for a few seconds before I reach into her nightstand and pull out her bag of rolled joints, placing one behind my ear.
I’m so angry with her that I could care less if she gets mad at me. Truthfully, she probably just doesn’t care, because no matter what I do, I’ll never be as messed up as her.
I close the door behind me as I leave her. Then I pull the joint out from behind my ear and spark it up, before falling back onto the couch.
I feel numb as I sit here, smoking and flipping through TV channels, looking for something to distract my mind from the mess in the next room over.
It’s hard not to go back in there and scream at her. Scream at her to be a better mother . . . a better person. One that gives a shit whether or not she lives or dies.
But I know it’ll do no good. It never does.
She’s been this way since my piece of shit dad abandoned us.
My body is tense, my heart pounding mercilessly as I turn my attention to the front door, waiting for it to open.
As much as I hate to admit that I need Alexandra as much as she needs me, I can’t deny it in my heart.
I can’t deny that seeing her beautiful face makes the world seem a little brighter, in this otherwise dark place I’ve been swallowed up whole by.
But I haven’t seen her for three days now and I hate it, because we usually see each other every day. I know it’s because her father told her she can no longer hang out with me, but I figured she’d find a way anyway.
She always does.
“Jaxon. Come in here. I need something to help me sleep.” My mother’s desperate voice has me turning up the volume, showing her, I’m no longer listening.
She’ll eventually fall asleep.
She always does.
I’m tired of watching her slowly die because she’s unable to love anything in this world enough to want to live. Not even me.
The only things she cares about are the drugs that alter her reality enough to make her forget I even exist. That she has a son who depends on her and needs her to be there for him.
Beautiful Savage (Savage & Ink Book 2) Page 3