Origin

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Origin Page 8

by Ana Jolene


  “Sure, sounds great.” The smile he flashed me oozed charm. “Oh, and thanks for the present. That was really nice of you. I haven’t had salty chips in what feels like forever.”

  Trey paused by the door and shot me a confused look. “I didn’t send any chips.”

  “Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “My mistake then.”

  He grinned. “No worries. Call you later?”

  I nodded and flashed him a grin. As I turned back to my desk, my smile faltered. If it hadn’t been Trey, then who had left the package?

  Lucky

  With Seven gone, the house was much quieter. I moved around freely as if I’d been living there all this time. It helped that there were actual furnishings in the place, unlike my own apartment and the shack Dex and Lennon called home. Despite the flares, Seven had actually kept this place in prime condition, the kitchen being the most impressive.

  I heard that Seven had been studying to become a chef before the flares. She had even managed to land an internship with some exclusive name. But when the first of the flares crash-landed on us, it was difficult to follow your culinary dreams when so much of it relied on access to food.

  Businesses like Neptune’s did okay, but I doubted we’d be able to go back to how we were before the flares. Certain foods were still attainable through trades like grain and produce, but other indulgences such as chocolate, milk products, and the chips Seven had this morning were harder to come by. As the Ward’s leaders, Glory MC were much better off than the general public, and yet Seven’s kitchen seemed stocked with plenty of canned items, perishable foods, and even some fresh fruit. How had she managed to get her hands on all this? While everyone else was struggling to find provisions, Seven had her kitchen stocked with delicious, not to mention healthy, foods at her picking. I made a mental note to ask her.

  As I helped myself to a can of Seven’s ravioli, there was a knock on the front door. Opening it, Kitt’s panther eyes stared back at me. “How are the new digs?” he asked, a faint smile curling his lips. I turned around without answering, hearing his laughter follow. “Here. I brought over what you wanted.”

  I grabbed the bag he offered. “Thanks.”

  “What I don’t understand is why you need extra bedding. Doesn’t Seven have her own shit?”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  “What? Do they itch?” he teased. “Too rough for your sensitive skin.”

  I showed him upstairs and paused at the doorway. “See for yourself.”

  “Oh shit. What is that?” Kitt’s eyes widened in horror as he took in the rest of the room. “It’s like a Barbie porn palace up in here!”

  “Exactly. And I don’t plan on going pink and plastic anytime soon.”

  Kitt chortled. “She wanted you to sleep in here?” At my nod, he laughed again. “Man, she really fucking hates you.”

  The feeling was entirely mutual. “Here, help me change the sheets.” Kitt stood on one side of the bed while I went to the other. As we ripped off the fugly-ass sheets, a part of my sanity returned.

  The ones I had Kitt get were in a masculine gray. No pink frou frou shit in sight. I moved to grab the fresh pillowcases but couldn’t find them. “Hey. Did you forget the pillow cases?”

  Kitt frowned. “They aren’t with the sheets?”

  I shook the sheets out. “They aren’t here.”

  “Shit. Must’ve lost them.”

  “They’re usually kept together, you moron. How could you lose them?”

  “I lost them,” he said simply. “I’m not Martha fucking Stewart, all right? Gimme a break.”

  Christ, you couldn’t get shit done without having to do it yourself. “Just get rid of the pink sheets, okay?”

  Kitt balled up the pink monstrosity and frowned. “Wait.” He sniffed the air like a dog. “What is that smell?”

  See? I wasn’t the only one who hated it! “It’s some lavender spray that Seven likes.”

  Kitt made a face that had me laughing. “God, I can’t stand it. Open the goddamn windows! It stinks!”

  As I did, I was hit by a furnace blast of hot air. “Christ, a flare’s gotta be coming. It’s a boiler out there.”

  “Seems like it. Been a while since we had one. Mother Nature is just biding her time.”

  “Come on,” I called out. “Seven’s got some beer in the fridge.”

  “You don’t think she’ll mind?”

  “I’ll replace it.”

  In the kitchen, Kitt settled into one of the chairs, making himself comfortable. I placed a beer in front of him.

  “Thanks,” he said as I settled into a seat opposite him and frowned.

  “So what’s been happening since I’ve been gone?”

  Kitt took a pull from his beer. “It seems like we have a situation . . .” Oh no. I hated when he started sentences with that.

  “What kind of situation?”

  “The Phantoms have resurrected.” Shit. Not good news. If the Phantoms were back in action, that didn’t bode well for us. “They’ve been getting more aggressive as of late,” Kitt continued. “Cases of extortion are sprouting all over the place, even as far as Two and Three.”

  That surprised me. If the Phantoms were trying to gain control of more land, that was definitely one way to go about it. The flares had marked a bid of power. As societal structures dwindled, more and more people were hoping to gain more power and leadership. Glory MC ruled Ward Four, and other Wards had their own respective leaders, but some weren’t able to hold that spot for long. It was a constant battle to dethrone the king in each Ward. Even years later, spots weren’t fully secured yet.

  The Phantoms were the post-flare equivalent of the mafia, an invisible, manipulative crime syndicate that specialized in extortion, drug trafficking, protection racketeering, and fraud. Because no one Ward belonged to them, they targeted businesses within Wards. And that was how they were slowly gaining power.

  It would become a real issue for us if they targeted businesses within Ward Four. Glory MC would be forced to intervene and it would once again instigate a war that neither one of us were ready for. “Have there been reports of any extortion cases within Ward Four?”

  “Not yet, but I doubt the Phantoms would pay attention to boundaries. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “How’s Bronson doing?” Ward Three’s new leader had come to Glory MC for help when the Phantoms had demanded payment for protection. Not willing to pay for his former friend’s mistakes, he fought against it and was now in deeper shit than he was before.

  “He’s playing it out,” Kitt answered morosely. “The Phantoms will return for their money again, and if he doesn’t give it to them, Ward Three will have the hammer come down on them.”

  It seemed that all around us the Phantoms were attacking. “Let’s just hope that no more deaths come along with it.” Glory MC had yet to recover from the losses. Newt’s death had really hit us hard.

  “All right, I gotta run.” Kitt rose. “And don’t forget about the church meeting tomorrow. We’ll discuss this more in depth.” When I led him to the door to see him out, he turned and said, “Tell Seven I said hi.”

  “I will.”

  “Hastie’s gonna have a good laugh when I tell him about your little Barbie porn palace.”

  I flipped him off and slammed the door shut on his ugly grinning mug. I knew better than to ask Kitt for a favor. He had a flapping mouth that didn’t stay shut for long. Now I would never hear the end of this. Through the barrier, I could still hear Kitt’s howling laughter as he pulled out of the lot.

  I glanced at the clock. There were still a couple of hours until Seven came home. I grinned. I hoped she enjoyed payback.

  SEVEN

  How to be a Bad House Guest

  Seven

  A flare was definitely approaching. The sun was relentless as it beat down on my back. The anti-radiation equipment I had did little to protect me. I felt as if I had been roasting in an oven, my fat melting off m
e in waves as I rode home.

  Lack of sleep, the heat, and the long workday was beginning to take its toll on me. If Lucky couldn’t abide by my rules in my house, then he could just pick up his shit and leave. I wouldn’t lose my job because of him. Needless to say, I was in a foul mood when I walked through the front door and didn’t find him in the living room. In fact, all of his stuff had disappeared, too.

  I called out his name. For a second, I allowed myself to think that maybe he had found another place to stay before there was a thump from directly above me. Running up the steps, I came to a full stop at the top of the stairs. “What the hell?”

  There, tacked onto the door was a sign that read: You are now entering the man cave.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me.” I slammed my fist into the door. “Lucky, open up!”

  There was a long minute before my new roomie poked his head out. “Oh, hey.”

  “What the fuck is all this?” I asked.

  “Oh this?” A smug smile curved his lips. “I’m in the midst of settling in.”

  Settling in? “What did you do to my stuff?”

  “Relax, your shit is safe. I just took it out.”

  “What? Why?” I attempted to walk past him before one muscled forearm shot out to block me. Our eyes met in challenge. I ducked. His foot shot out to trip me. I hopped over it and elbowed past him.

  “Ow!”

  What the hell did he do to the place? In the nine hours I was gone, the room had completely changed!

  The first thing I noticed was the bed. Gone were my cute pink sheets. An ugly material that looked like someone had poured concrete over the bed replaced them. I swung on Lucky, fuming. “Why did you remove my sheets?”

  “I know you’re slow,” Lucky drawled, arms crossed over his chest, “but you must’ve realized at some point that I’m a male—”

  “Are you deranged?” I walked towards the other side of the bed. “Those sheets had a thousand thread count!” And they certainly looked better than whatever these sandpaper-like sheets were.

  “—And we don’t sleep on pink fucking sheets!” he finished.

  “That’s what this is about?” I moved towards him. “My sheets are nicer than yours.”

  “Mine are a masculine slate color.”

  “They’re gray.”

  “Slate,” he bit off.

  He could call it granite for all I fucking cared. It still looked gray to me. When I turned back to the bed, I had to do a double take because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing on the bed. “Are those T-shirts you’re using as pillow cases?”

  Lucky sighed in defeat. “Kitt lost the pillow cases.”

  Ha! Gotta love Kitt! Moving closer, I picked one up and grinned. “They’re kind of cute with their little arms sticking out.”

  “It’s not cute.” Lucky snatched it from me and placed it back on the bed. “Nothing is supposed to be cute here. This is a man cave. It’s—hey, are you even listening to me?”

  “Ooh, what’s that?” I moved to the thing hanging from the ceiling. Then, when I realized what it was, I shot Lucky a dark look over my shoulder. “A hammock? Really?”

  Lucky shrugged. “Have you ever had hammock sex before?”

  “Excuse me?” I hadn’t, but I wouldn’t admit that to him.

  His smile told me he already knew. “You’re missing out.”

  “I think I’ll live,” I said, but in my head, images of hammock sex barged into my head like a stampede. One had to be really bendy to be able to do that. An image of Lucky lying naked on a hammock suddenly appeared in my mind. No. No sexual thoughts! Especially not any starring Lucky. “Oh and while we’re on the subject of sex, do not bring your mamas here. You fuck them at Neptune’s or someplace else. But don’t bring them here.”

  “Why?” His grin widened. “Are you jealous?”

  Jealous? Yeah—no. “The thought of you fornicating in my house sickens me.”

  Lucky laughed as he shook his head. “I don’t ‘fornicate,’ as you call it. I fuck.”

  “Call it whatever you want. But you keep your dick in your pants, got it?”

  “Fine,” he bit out. “But on one condition . . .”

  Oh, boy. “Let’s hear it.”

  “You can’t enter this room without me here.”

  “Same goes with my room, asshole.”

  “Trust me,” he said, stepping away from me. “I would never willingly walk into your bedroom. Wouldn’t want to get sucked into the black hole, would I?”

  I rolled my eyes. “And another thing, some people actually have to work in the mornings, so next time, don’t occupy the shower then.”

  “Fine.” He went back to unpacking his clothes. “Where do you work anyway?”

  “At Giovanni’s.”

  “In Ward Two?”

  I was surprised to find he was familiar with the place. “Yes, I have a managerial position.”

  His eyes widened. “The thought of you being in charge of anything worries me.”

  “You worried that I’d have you on your knees?”

  That grin appeared again. “Baby, you couldn’t handle me even if you tried.”

  My own smile built to a grin. “I’d have you down on your knees, head bowed in submission before you’d even know what was happening to you.”

  Lucky’s brows rose in surprise. “That sounds like a fem-dom fetish. Is that why all the men flock to you?”

  I smiled. “Now you sound jealous.”

  “Never.” His eyes flashed. “Fire and ice, remember?”

  The words I once said to him were like gasoline on an old flame, igniting memories involving the two of us. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to form a front against them. “Exactly,” I agreed, meeting his eyes. “Fire and ice.”

  There was a challenging glint as he held my gaze. I knew he had to be thinking about the kiss. Did he regret it? Or did he want more? I was the first to look away. I didn’t want to go back there. Not now. Not ever.

  The small smile appearing on his lips told me that he knew I was feeling uncomfortable. The room suddenly felt too hot. I moved towards the door, but Lucky easily stepped into my way. “So all I need to do is stay clear of your room and keep my dick in my pants. Anything else I need to remember?”

  “Just stay out of my way,” I told him as I stepped around him.

  And then maybe he’d stay out of my thoughts too.

  Lucky

  I woke to find someone in the room with me the next morning. “Rise and shine, motherfucker,” Seven sang.

  “Didn’t we go over this last night?” I grumbled. “You’re not allowed in this room anymore.”

  “You said I couldn’t come in this room without you. You’re still in bed, so technically, I’m not breaking any of the rules.” Unbelievable. How was I going to live with this? “But don’t distract me,” Seven continued. “I came in here for a reason.”

  “Why are you pointing my own pistol at me?”

  Seven raised it up higher. “This is the reason why I’m here. Why am I finding your shit all over the place?”

  “Put it down. You don’t even know what you’re doing.”

  When I rose from the bed, she quickly covered her eyes with a hand. “Oh my God, why are you naked?” she wailed.

  I strode towards her and snatched my pistol from her. “Because I live here now. And I always sleep nude.”

  “Ew!” Seven kept her hand in front of her eyes as she said, “Why can’t you keep your weapons locked up like a normal person?”

  “Why the fuck would I lock them up? I use them.” I remembered leaving this one downstairs on the kitchen table.

  “Are you still naked?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Put some clothes on, for God’s sake!” I grinned as a flush emerged on her cheeks. My nakedness was making her uncomfortable. “And it’s not safe. What if someone found it and tried using it on you?”

  “Aw. I didn’t know you cared.” I moved to
grab a towel and some clothes for a shower.

  “I don’t care about you. I just don’t like the way you leave your shit all over the place.”

  Oh, now I got it. “Are you OCD?” She had to be to make such a big deal over something so miniscule.

  “No, I’m just not a slob.”

  “You’re anal,” I said with a smile. I pulled out a few clean shirts. Did I want to wear black or gray today?

  “And you’re an asshole,” she volleyed, dropping her hand from her face. “Is it really necessary to leave your weapons all over the house?” When she realized I was still buck-ass naked, she gasped and twirled around to face the other wall. “Why are you still naked? I told you to put some clothes on! Don’t you have any decency?”

  She looked totally crazy yelling at me but facing a wall. “Forgive me, but most women don’t ask me to put my clothes on. I’m new to this.” God, I just loved teasing her! “And to answer your other question, yes, I need everything within reaching distance.”

  “Why do you need them in every room though? Why don’t you just keep one on you at all times?”

  I did, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “Because you never know when someone will attack.”

  “Even in the shower?”

  “Have you ever been attacked while naked and soapy in the shower before?”

  “No.”

  “Let me tell you, it ain’t fun.”

  “God, you’re so paranoid. Is everyone in Glory MC like this?”

  “I’m not paranoid. I’m prepared. There’s a difference.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I’m dressed,” I told her as I zipped up a pair of jeans.

  When she turned around, her eyes went to my exposed chest. “I can see your nipples. You call that dressed?”

  Does nothing please this woman? “I’m hopping in the shower anyway. It just felt weird talking to you while you were facing the wall.”

  Seven laughed. “I’ll leave, but”—She pointed sternly at me—“if I find your shit in the kitchen again . . .”

  “Yeah, yeah. Got it.”

  As she huffed and headed for the door, I jumped into the shower, thinking of the rules Seven had imposed on me. No entering her bedroom without her permission. No sex in the house. No leaving weapons out in the open. What would be next? No having friends over? No alcohol? By this rate, Seven and I would be at each other’s throats by the end of the week!

 

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