by Bijou Hunter
Sissy is easy to be around. The blonde blurts out whatever’s in her head. There’s nothing fake about her. Everything I see is the real Sissy.
Lily is more like me. We grew up with the understanding that people were watching and expecting certain things from us. We’re reserved around strangers. I see how Lily smiles differently when she doesn’t know I’m around and thinks it’s just her and Sissy. They have a long-time bond. I’d easily feel left out if not for Sissy’s infectious friendliness.
A week after I arrive in Conroe, Bubba and I move into our house. We use the bed and dresser from his room at his parents’ place, but we’ll need to buy everything else.
That means, Bubba—a man I’ve known for only a few weeks—and I need to furnish a 2000 square foot house. Instead, of proving we rushed into our relationship, shopping together is more evidence that we’re perfect together.
Bubba and I don’t initially agree on anything. He likes dark leather and sharp lines. I like nonconformity and lots of color. We ought to drive each other crazy while filling our house.
Our first battle involves furniture. He wants a large leather couch. I prefer furniture to be colorful and lower to the ground—for Freki. I’m not blind, though. I watched how this large man was forced to crawl off my couch back in Tennessee. After a long day of physical labor, the last thing Bubba needs is to struggle with a piece of furniture.
We compromise. He buys a massive, masculine couch that I cover with a colorful afghan I’ve had forever. Plus, Freki enjoys his new ramp, and he’s happy with anything as long as his fluffy pillow is available.
Comfort is always more important than style. This house isn’t our taste. Bubba doesn’t like ranches. I think the boxy style is boring. But with no stairs, Freki can access every room without whining for someone to pick him up.
There’s so much space—three times as much as my place in Hickory Creek—and I’m obsessed with having room for people to stay over. The house quickly feels warm and relaxed as we fill it with an odd mix of furniture and décor.
While I get my elephant tapestry on the wall behind the couch, Bubba enjoys his giant fucking TV. I mean, seriously, the thing is huge and nearly covers the entire wall across from the couch. I don’t watch much TV, but he’s used to winding down after work by staring at the boob tube.
I have all day to bask in the quiet house with my yoga and meditation. If Bubba needs to watch trash TV all evening, I’m happy to cuddle next to him and learn to appreciate what he loves.
Each compromise doesn’t make us resentful. Instead, we grow closer. Negotiating becomes a game to see who can be the most creative by making the house fit us both. Like when Bubba manages to find a couch, loveseat, and chair that are all brown leather, yet different tones and styles. He’s a man who fixes problems rather than ignores them. If I want something and he wants something else? Well, that’s just a fun challenge.
Before moving in, we paint the living room and kitchen with burnished gold, sea blue, and rustic red. The rest of the house’s walls wait for a weekend when a dozen Brotherhood families and my parents drive up. We make the painting party an event—tents out back, feasts, music, and swapping stories.
Many of the Brotherhood can’t come up for family or work reasons. Others refuse to embrace my bad taste in men. After all, I gave up a good guy like Griff, only to turn around and settle for an outsider. I don’t take their opinions personally. They don’t know Bubba like I do. Hell, they haven’t even seen Griff the way I have. Their views are based on limited knowledge. If they knew what I do, they’d no doubt fall for Bubba too.
Conroe is my home now. Lonely at times, I wish Bubba was with me constantly, but he has a ton of work. There’s a lot of unfinished rental houses waiting to be put on the market. Butch obviously can’t help, and the Dogs are useless. I sense Jack is either lazy, stupid, or both. Bubba claims his cousin is just easily distracted, and he’ll grow out of that.
His uncle Jace keeps busy, and that overly muscled guy name Ron does fine. Overall, Bubba and Butch seem to be the real workhorses. Now one of them is on the mend, and the other fell behind on his projects while banging me in Tennessee.
To add to Bubba’s stress, I open my big mouth about how the Johansson name needs to be more prominent in the town. This inspires Bailey and Sawyer to buy two empty storefronts with no idea what to do with them. I then make the mistake of agreeing with their plan to “do something.” Now, I’m supposed to help them figure out the logistics of their expansion. It’s not as if I can tell them no. They’re family now. It might not be legal yet, but their needs are my needs.
Layla comes up for the weekend to talk about how we’ll manage the sanctuary now that I no longer live in Hickory Creek.
“Do you want to quit?” she asks while curled up on my couch.
“Never.”
“Then I do the manual labor, and you do the bookkeeping?”
Hearing her irritation, I point out, “You get to spend time with the birds.”
“True,” she says. “I win.”
Layla isn’t happy with my moving. She doesn’t like Bubba. She hates Conroe. Nothing pleases her here.
That’s on Friday.
By Saturday, she admits Bubba is very hot and probably the best I could hope for since I crave a biker like my dad. “Why not date a lawyer or a barista?”
“Why don’t you date them?”
“I should. Bad men do bad things,” she says as we hang out on my back porch. “I’m staying far away from bad men.”
That’s on Saturday.
By Sunday, she seems ready to rub up against Jack Johansson until I distract her by mentioning peppermint cookies. My cousin is amazing, but the chick’s attention span is that of a small child.
Before returning to Tennessee, Layla and I brainstorm ideas for the storefronts I’m supposed to manage.
“Go boho,” Layla says, stoned and giggling about Ula’s dancing. “Sell a bunch of random shit. These rednecks won’t get it, and it’ll be hilarious.”
“Scarlet and Phoebe make soap with their goat milk. Sissy said Lily likes to crochet.”
“Yeah, sell that hippie shit to these yokels. I fucking dare you!” she cries, laughing so hard she needs to pee.
While Layla finds this concept hilarious—mainly because she’s stoned—I think I could put together a little bohemian boutique with fresh farm products from Scarlet and Phoebe, quilts and blankets from Lily, and some other crap I’ll need to figure out later.
None of that will happen soon, though. Lily is swamped with motherhood. Scarlet and Phoebe have twin infants and three school-aged daughters. These women also don’t know me well enough to feel comfortable to sign on just yet.
But I can do this, and I’ll be helping the Johansson family. If Bubba wants to be the king of Conroe. he’ll need a queen who does more than sit around polishing her crown. I’ll help him make this little town the best it can be. My dream is for Bubba to leave a legacy to rival those of his uncles and grandfather.
THE RUNAWAY
Butch doesn’t understand why we should waste money changing the name of Morty’s Pub. Having never been to Hickory Creek Township, he can’t understand the almost oppressive presence the Brotherhood and Hallstead family have in their town.
“Soso says we need to remind everyone who runs shit.”
“Soso says,” he mocks while cradling his gut after overdoing his exercise for the day.
I only smile at his taunt. What else can I do? He’s recovering from a gunshot wound that I’m certain he wouldn’t have if I remained in Conroe. This is the reason I don’t tease him about his pastel house or the barrette stuck in his hair. Yeah, I’m just going to let that shit slide...for now.
“Is Johansson Pub the best name you could come up with?” he asks after glancing toward the kitchen where Sissy hums.
“It’s the name people need to remember.”
“Why not Davies?”
“Because there are more Johansso
ns than there are Davies.”
“Did Soso count them for you?” he asks, smirking at his jokester shit.
Butch has been in a considerably better mood since ending Sissy’s mom a week ago. Though I wasn’t looking forward to offing a woman, he needed someone to help with the heavy lifting even if he was the one to finish her. Sissy’s mother was a threat to his family, and Butch doesn’t fuck around when it comes to his woman and kids. Having his back was the least I could do after bailing on Conroe weeks ago.
“We both fell for blondes,” I say, pointing out the obvious, “and Mom is blonde. Do you think that means something?”
“Yeah, that you’re weird, and I have good taste.”
I warm up to this calmer side of Butch. He still does his silent routine when we’re out with people. At home with his family, though, he’s downright jolly. If this keeps up, I’ll suggest he play Santa at this year’s Christmas party. Oh, he’ll fucking love that!
“So, Johansson Pub, it is,” I announce.
“I like Whiskey Kirk’s better.”
“Yeah, but no one here knows who Kirk is any more than they know who the fuck Morty is. This isn’t about honoring our family. We want to instill fear in everyone by constantly reminding them of our presence.”
After Butch glances at Haydee dancing into the room to music only she can hear, his gaze returns to me.
“I’ll be ready to work soon,” he says before adding, “And to do other strenuous stuff.”
“Hey, man, that’s between you and Sissy.”
“Asshole,” he growls while I stand up.
“We’ll have a party at the pub to celebrate the name change. I’m thinking about inviting Soso’s dad and brother. Wouldn’t hurt for us to create stronger connections to powerful people. We’ll never get any respect if we always rely on Cooper.”
I stop at the door and think of my uncle who’s been in Conroe more lately because of Lily’s new baby. “Cooper is always willing to get into a dick measuring contest with Hayes and the Brotherhood. There’s no downside to him acting that way because Ellsberg is secure. Conroe isn’t, and I want more allies.”
“A party?” Butch grumbles, likely hearing nothing else I said.
“Yeah, and Mom’s picking the new sign.”
“Smart to let her have a little power now that you’re swinging your dick around.”
“That was Soso’s idea.”
His blue eyes twinkle with amusement. “Do you ever come up with anything on your own?”
“I came up with the idea of marrying Soso.”
“Smart man.”
While Butch isn’t happy about the party idea, I promise he only has to show up and look scary. Plus, we’ll have a family portion of the event located in the parking lot. Butch immediately approves of his kids enjoying themselves.
The party planning grows every day. Soon, Soso works with Scarlet and Sawyer on the non-club portions of the event. They organize food, inflatables, face painting, and music. She’s really sexy when she gets organized, and I nearly break my dick from fucking her nonstop some days.
“I’m trying to work here,” she whines while also positioning herself—on all fours, pussy at the ready—in front of her laptop to allow me some loving.
Possibly because of Soso’s influence on me, I decide to get the Dogs involved in party activities. Pavel drives around town, putting up signs directing people toward the pub. Tolya and Andrei set up tables and chairs. Diak hauls cases of soda from Soso’s truck. I even make Vlad inflate helium balloons.
Noticing how I’ve put them to work, Soso gives me a smirk. While they’ll be talking shit later, none of them dare complain to my face. Not out of fear of me, of course, but they know about Cooper and Colton’s frequent visits to see Lily and Byron. For now, they’ll play along.
“Those dumbasses need to find a way to get rid of you without it pointing at them,” Soso said the other night. “Having met them now, I sense it’ll be a while before they come up with anything worthwhile. They lack brains and fear death. No way are they screwing with you for at least a few months.”
I love when she talks business with me. Soso has a fuck ton of ideas about how to run the club. Things she learned from spying on her dad and uncle when she was a kid.
“I wanted to be like them,” she said, giving me a sheepish smile a few nights back. “I was convinced I would be the first chick in the Brotherhood. That clearly didn’t happen, but I learned some things. Now, you can use their good ideas and skip the stuff that failed.”
One of her plans is for the club to track down every source of illegal product sold in the Conroe area and force the distributor to pay us a kickback. If they want to do business in our territory, we get paid. Seems simple, but the Dogs have long claimed to Cooper and my mother that no one sells anything of worth in the area except a little meth and the girls at the Rossiya Motel. Considering I spotted teenagers smoking pot at the park the other day, Vlad is full of shit. The Dogs were just too lazy to care, and we’ve allowed the criminal side of the business to slowly unwind for years. That kind of thinking is over.
A new name and a sign for the pub might seem like a tiny thing, but it’s the first item in a long list of things I plan to get done. Most of which I haven’t even shared with my mom yet. That part wasn’t Soso’s idea, but I’m sure she agrees. I need to make moves on my own or else I’ll never earn respect.
Mom’s quite proud of the sign at the unveiling. Around us, locals begin arriving for food and games. Later, we’ll unveil a new menu for the pub, and the party will switch to adults-only.
“Dayton likes the sign,” Mom tells me around three pm after the parking lot is full of people.
I spot Hart riding Butch’s shoulders to avoid getting overwhelmed by the dozens of kids running and screaming around them.
“The horse rides are a cute idea,” she says, fixing the collar of my T-shirt. I know darn well there’s nothing fucking wrong with my clothes, but Mom needs to fret. She’s worried Cooper will make an appearance.
Around ten that morning, Colton showed up at Mom’s house where we were finalizing plans for the day. He immediately asked if Soso’s blue-haired cousin was around.
“I haven’t found my special woman,” he explained to Mom. “I might need to open myself up to chicks with unusual hair.”
“Stay away from Layla,” Soso growled.
Colton smiled in a way that I felt was too flirtatious. Punches were nearly thrown until Buzz announced that Denny had shit in the toilet like a big boy, and we all had to stop fighting long enough to applaud.
A sick bird keeps Layla from driving up with her parents. While Colton might not get laid today, he’s certainly a hit with a handful of ladies. Haydee and Scarlet and Phoebe’s daughters—Janis, Yancy, and Cady—follow him around the parking lot as if he’s a tattooed Pied Piper.
The family part of our day goes off without a hitch. Though I expect more families than we get, Conroe is weird. Even free shit makes them wary.
Eventually, the first part of our big day winds down. The bounce castle gets deflated and returned. Chairs and tables are folded. Pop follows Mom around while she organizes all this activity. Sawyer disappears at some point and returns with her shirt inside out. Her preteen daughter, Kiki, just shakes her head and walks away when she finds her disheveled parents.
“Nasty,” she mumbles.
Sawyer shrugs. “One day, she’ll understand how sexy those bounce houses can be.”
I frown at her comment, now regretting how I never got Soso in there before it was deflated.
Scarlet and Phoebe take home their five kids while Sissy, Haydee, and Hart hang around a bit longer before leaving with Lily, Dash, and Byron. I don’t know when Buzz, Panni, and Denny left, but it’s likely related to the toilet triumph earlier.
The mood shifts as the adult portion of the day begins. Colton decides to have one drink before heading over to Sawyer's to hang out with our gram.
“I’m h
er favorite,” he says, flashing me a smile. “Nice party, Conroe cousin.”
“Thanks for spying for your father, Ellsberg cousin.”
“Enjoy your woman,” Colton says, just begging for me to take a swing at him again.
Soso changes out of her skirt and flowery blouse before dressing in a leather and jeans getup that makes my body temp rise. She’s full biker chick tonight, and I appreciate the show she provides. A badass president needs his badass old lady.
“We’ll make this official soon,” I whisper while dancing to one of those pop-country songs that Mom listens to while working out.
“Why? Legal shit is for other people.”
“Legal shit matters. If I die, I want you taken care of.”
I know I’m saying something stupid before the words even finish leaving my mouth, but I can’t stop. Despite smiling at my idiocy, Soso doesn’t laugh.
“Okay, baby,” she says and wraps her arms tighter around me. “Let’s pretend this is a slow song.”
I struggle not to kiss her into submission and then carry her out of the pub for car sex in our new, used SUV. Soso knows where my mind goes, so she helpfully suggests my mother’s recent clinginess is likely caused by menopause. Yeah, that info quickly throws cold water on my dick region.
My mom and pop leave soon after Soso’s comment. They pretend they want to check on Denny and his new pooping skills. Soso claims that’s the weirdest code for wanting to fuck she’s ever heard.
Butch hangs around long after I expect him to head home to where Sissy and his kids wait. I sense he’s edgy about the Dogs sitting in the corner, watching us while speaking in Ukrainian.
I don’t know why they stayed, considering there are no club bunnies around to fawn over them. Starting today, I instituted a new rule. If club women are on the premises, club bunnies can’t be. No way do I want women I’ve fucked anywhere near Soso. Any more than I’d want to hang out with men she’s fucked. Even if Griff settled down and acted normal, I’d never want him in my face.