The next five pain filled minutes were spent shimmying off the bed, and then shuffling to the bathroom.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that Sebastian had made a half-assed effort to remove the toys from the bottom of his shower.
I didn’t think I could manage to bend and toss them over the side at this point. I felt so bad. At least my head didn’t hurt. That was something, wasn’t it?
The feel of hot water streaming down over my skin helped soothe some of the aches and pains.
I managed to run the bar of soap down my stomach, chest, and shoulders. However, when I got down to my legs, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. My legs would be hairy. So be it, because there was no way I was shaving today. Then again, it wasn’t like it would matter if my legs were hairy, because it wasn’t like I’d be getting any anytime soon. Not without a little bit of pain; Sebastian, nor I, got off on that type of thing. At least I didn’t think he did.
When I finally made my way into the living room wearing the only thing I could stand to put on, a t-shirt with the Dixie Wardens MC logo on it and a pair of Sebastian’s flannel pants, I was ready to go back to sleep, exhausted with the effort.
It was only the sweet sound of my mother’s voice that kept me moving to the living room, and then to the kitchen where my mother was at Sebastian’s stove wearing his apron and cooking. It smelled heavenly, and I knew instantly what it was. Chicken fried chicken. My favorite.
My mom only made it on special occasions. She said it took too much effort to make it any more often than she did.
“Mom.” I called once I stepped barefoot onto the kitchen tiles.
My mom whirled at the sound of my voice, dropped the spatula on the counter, and moved towards me slowly, gathering me into her arms carefully. “Oh, baby. You have such a dangerous job it scares me and your papa.”
Ugh. Not this argument again. For the love of all that’s holy. “Mom, you know I love my job. I don’t want to do anything else.”
“But, baby, this is the second time you’ve gotten hurt on the job within two years. Can’t you go work in the hospital or something?” she pleaded, curling my palm around her cheek.
I sighed and pulled back, going to the coffeemaker and smiling slightly when I saw my favorite cup waiting for me.
Punching down the large button, because I was pretty damn sure I’d need it, I turned and surveyed the kitchen, my mom included.
“What do you think of Sebastian?” I asked, trying to get my mother’s attention focused on something other than my career choice.
Before I could answer, my dad’s voice filtered in from the porch. “Paige, bring me a beer!” He bellowed.
“Get your own beer, Travis! I’m busy! Lunch isn’t going to cook itself, or did you want to get up and make it?” My mother screeched back.
Ahh, I knew I missed my parents.
Then Sebastian’s voice interrupted. “That’s okay, Mr. Roberts. I got it. I’m gonna go check on Baylee anyway.”
My mother turned and smiled at me. “I know that he doesn’t yell at his future mother-in-law for a beer. I know he cares a lot about you. When he showed up today, with his son in tow, and explained what happened to you last night, I fell in love with him. He’s won your daddy over pretty good too. Just gonna take him some time to get used to the whole motorcycle club thing he has going on. It’d help if we knew just a little more about it.”
I snorted. “To be honest, I don’t know much.” Eyeing the door warily to make sure Sebastian wasn’t quite there yet, I whispered to my mother. “I don’t think he does anything bad. He told me they made legitimate money in the eyes of the law. So I trust him.”
“Okay. We’ll talk more about this when we’re alone. Are you ready to eat? Have you been sleeping a long time?”
“Eighteen hours.” Sebastian’s deep voice called from the entrance to the back deck.
I jumped and turned around, feeling guilty about discussing Sebastian so openly in his own home. Then immediately regretted turning due to the agony shooting through my ribs.
I couldn’t even appreciate how hot he looked in his black jeans, black shirt, and black hat. Normally the sight would have made me flush in excitement. Now I was clammy in discomfort.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I willed the shards of pain away.
Then the next best thing happened as Sebastian’s warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. “Did you take your meds yet?” He asked quietly, rubbing his bristly beard against my head.
“No. I don’t know where they are.” I admitted softly.
“By the coffee pot. Why don’t you go take a seat and I’ll bring them to you?” He offered.
“Lunch’s almost ready anyway. This is a good time to get everyone seated; I’ll bring out the food shortly.” My mother ordered, before going back to the gravy she’d been stirring.
I eyed the table that was covered with paper work from both the station and the MC, and wanted to laugh at the thought that my mother wanted to have dinner at that very table.
“Uhh, Sebastian...you’re going to have to move your office to the actual office for now.” I teased him as I took a seat.
He snorted at the idea, walked to the coffee pot to grab my coffee, the medications, and a roll before coming back to me. He offered me all but the roll, stuffed half of it in his mouth, and then started gathering up papers.
I helped on my own side, gathering the closest papers and piling them into a small pile.
One such paper caught my eye, and I was a little bewildered as to why the club would need a list of the businesses in Benton.
I made a mental note to ask him later, because my mom was following behind Sebastian as he cleaned, placing down place mats in his wake.
“My mom likes a pretty table.” I told Sebastian, as he finally made his way to my side with two piles of papers in his hands.
“I can see that.” He laughed as he gathered my piles into his own and left the room.
I watched his ass as he disappeared down the hallway. I hadn’t been aware that I’d sighed until my mom laughed.
Looking up, I raised my eyes in question. “What?”
“Your dad and I were like that once. I was a little street urchin from the wrong side of the track, and he was the Sheriff’s son who was so straight-laced that I never even thought I had a chance. Then he saved me, one night, from a couple of boys who wanted me to help them break into a pharmacy. They wanted to shove me in through the drop box, if you can believe it.” she explained as I started setting forks down on the placemats.
I didn’t have the heart to tell my mother that I’d already heard this story eighteen thousand times. Instead, I let her continue without interrupting, picturing the way my mother would look trying to be shoved into a drop box. Now, my mother had the padding that most mothers had; but, back then, she could totally pass for supermodel thin.
My mom was on the shorter side at 5’4, but before she had Luke, my mother had a smoking body. Mom liked to attribute it to life on the streets and not getting enough meals; dad liked to say it was in the genes. I had to agree that it was, indeed, the genes, because I had the same muscular build as my mother. Although a lot of my metabolism had to do with my demanding job, and the fact that my ADHD meds made me not want to eat.
“Your daddy caught them while they were trying to shove me in. I was kicking and screaming, and your daddy swooped in like a knight in shining armor, with his shiny gold badge and hauled those boys to the county jail. I, of course, ran and tried my hardest to stay out of trouble, but he found me that next week, and we became friends.” She smiled wistfully.
“Your momma wouldn’t put out until I married her. She tricked me.” My dad called from the doorway, making me look up and smile.
I just sighed as I waited for the inevitable argument to ensue, and it did, like clockwork.
“Do they always do this?” Sebastian asked as he came to a stop by my side.
I nodded grimly. “All the freak
ing time. Do you know how traumatizing it is to hear your parents fight constantly, and then go have sex? I knew exactly what they were doing the minute they left the room. It’s so gross.”
Sebastian snorted. “At least you don’t walk in on your old man having sex with a woman that’s thirty years his junior.”
I gagged. “What?”
Sebastian nodded sagely. “Yeah, it’s been known to happen.
“That’s...” I started. “Just wrong.”
He snorted. “Tell me about it.”
Just then, a very wet Katy, a muddy Johnny, and an exasperated Luke came walking in the back door. “Stop, boy. Don’t move.” Luke yelled, as Johnny tried to take off across the kitchen.
He stopped immediately, and pouted, arms crossing over his chest, and glared at Luke with the best of his ability.
“Johnny, don’t act like that. You know better. Why are you covered in mud?” Sebastian questioned as he stood and walked to the laundry room that was off the kitchen.
He came back moments later with two towels. He tossed one to Luke and wrapped the other around his son before hauling him to his bathroom; most likely to hosed him down.
“Go to the room you changed in earlier and get changed, sweet pea. Grammy has some food ready for us to eat. Don’t take too long or I’m gonna eat yours.” Luke instructed Katy.
“What were they doing?” My mom asked as she set a bowl of steaming mashed potatoes down on the table.
Luke, dad, and I watched in hunger as she went back for the chicken, and then followed shortly after that with the green beans and rolls.
“Oh, man. I haven’t had a home cooked meal like this in forever.” Luke groaned, taking a seat, but waited patiently for his child to get back before he started.
My dad walked behind me, kissed my head, and took the seat at the opposite side of Luke, leaving the head of the table for Sebastian and my mother, as was custom in our family.
“Me neither,” I agreed, sneaking a roll from the bowl and shoving three quarters of it into my mouth.
“Did you just take a roll?” Katy asked as she plopped down beside Luke.
“No.” I said around a mouth full of roll.
“Grammy, she’s eating before everybody’s sat down!” Katy squealed.
“Tattle tale.” I groaned, eyeing my mother’s expression out of the side of my eye.
It wasn’t a happy one, either. It was an ‘if you do it again, I’m going to hit you across the knuckles with my spoon, and I don’t care how hurt you are’ kind of look.
While my mother’s disapproving look was centered on me, everyone missed when Sebastian and Johnny entered the room. What they didn’t miss was the fact that Johnny was now dressed, full out, in a Superman costume. Cape, mask, abs and all.
“Wow, Johnny. I want to be Superman, too!” Katy proclaimed as soon as Johnny took a seat at the table.
“I like what you’ve done with yourself. Can I borrow your cape sometime?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “It won’t fit you.”
“Hey!” I said indignantly.
“Don’t feel bad. He won’t let anybody wear it. Not even Kettle.” Sebastian rumbled as he took some beers out of the fridge and handed them off to my father and Luke, before taking a seat.
That was surprising. From what I knew, Johnny was absolutely obsessed with Kettle. When Johnny was at their clubhouse and Kettle was anywhere in sight, Johnny was attached to him at the hip.
“Who’s Kettle?” My father asked, scooping out a large helping of mashed potatoes and passing the bowl to Luke’s waiting hands.
“Kettle is a member of the Dixie Wardens, dad.” I explained as I lifted a piece of chicken onto my plate.
I’d hoped my dad would just leave it at that, but of course, the cop in him wouldn’t let him.
Sebastian was incredibly tightlipped about the club, barely giving out information about them unless absolutely necessary.
What I’d learned came from the internet, or from Winter and the ladies I’d recently made friends with.
“Kettle and I became prospects together. I’d worked at the station for a little over a month, after being discharged from the marines, before I decided to go ahead and give the club a go. Kettle and I became fast friends, and he decided to prospect also. We bonded over shitty jobs, all-nighters, and performing menial tasks. He’s been my best friend ever since.” Sebastian said as he scooped green beans onto Johnny’s plate and then his own.
When Sebastian started giving out information about Kettle like it wasn’t any big deal, I was stunned. And, to tell the truth, a little bit hurt. Why couldn’t he have told me this? It wasn’t as if I hadn’t asked him before. He, of course, had changed the subject immediately, but with one innocent question from my father, I’d learned more about the club in one measly hour than I’d learned in three whole months.
“How long did you have to prospect.” Luke asked.
My mother had to nudge my arm with the mashed potato bowl to get me to take it when my eyes remained locked on Sebastian’s face.
Taking the bowl, I scooped out a helping that was entirely way too much for me to eat, and clinked the spoon so hard onto my plate that it echoed around the room.
“Careful there, honey. You don’t want to break the plate. Are your ribs bothering you?” My mom asked in concern.
“No.” I muttered, setting the bowl down in the middle of the table.
My mother didn’t risk handing the green beans over, instead standing up and giving me a heaping spoon full.
“Thanks.” I muttered.
I hated green beans, and my mother knew it. Witch.
The conversation between the men about the MC, the workings, and the business aspects of it continued to flow. My mother and I stayed silent, interacting with the children when they would ask something, but otherwise staying quiet, as was our usual at dinner.
If I spoke, I’d get distracted, and then my food wouldn’t be eaten. A multitasker I was not, even at the most simplest level. My mother, in deference to me, typically stayed silent as well. Mostly out of habit, because if she didn’t speak, then her daughter wouldn’t answer. Easy as that.
Just as I always did when my mother cooked green beans, I slipped two and three at a time onto my father and brother’s plates. Both of them knew I was doing it, as they always did, and never ratted me out to my mother.
My mother was a firm believer in finishing what was on your plate. She hated wasting food. If anything was left over, we’d have it for lunch until it was all eaten.
That was the bane of a one-income household. You had to be money conscious while skimping and saving where you could.
“We’re having a barbeque this weekend at the clubhouse if you would like to go.” Sebastian said to my father.
Huh. That was the first time I’d heard anything about a barbeque. Was I invited?
“We’d planned to watch Katy for Luke this weekend while he worked. But thanks for the invite. Maybe next time we come down.” She declined politely.
A wave of exhaustion made me sway in my seat, bringing everyone’s attention to me.
The concoction of pills I’d consumed earlier must’ve finally kicked in, because I was so tired that I felt like I’d fall asleep sitting in my seat. If I didn’t go to lay down now, I’d be falling over in my proverbial soup.
Deciding that a bed was best idea for now, I shuffled to the bedroom, went to Sebastian’s side, and laid down. Burying my nose into Sebastian’s pillow, I let the sharp, strong scent of him fill my lungs before passing out, my stomach full of homemade goodness, and my mind filled with questions.
Chapter 15
This isn’t a bakery. I don’t sugarcoat shit.
-why Sebastian pisses Baylee off
Baylee
Questions about the club persisted until the day before the big barbeque with the club.
I had opted to go home so I could spend time with my family. By making that decision, it meant th
at Sebastian and I couldn’t talk about the Dixie Wardens, unless I wanted to do it over the phone. Sebastian had a way of controlling any, and all, situations.
That included our phone conversations.
The single time I tried to bring up my concerns, while on the phone, he’d shut it down so fast that my head had spun, by telling me he’d talk to me about it when he saw me next, and then hanging up.
Hanging up.
Without a goodbye, at that.
He’d called me about an hour later claiming that he’d had a call, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew that a tone actually rang in the station that indicated an actual call had come in; none of those sounds had played.
Which was why I was driving to his place at ten o’clock on a Friday.
With the few and far between phone conversations we’d had, I knew he’d be working today until ten. Johnny would be with his grandmother, so we should have some uninterrupted time to have a sit down conversation, without Sebastian able to hang up on me.
‘Should’ being the operative word, because when I pulled up in front of Sebastian’s home, he was nowhere to be seen.
His bike and truck were both gone.
How he’d managed that little feat, I didn’t know, but I’d be sure to ask him when I saw him again.
Deciding the best thing to do was wait, I backed my car into a spot at the back of Sebastian’s yard so he’d be able to pull under his carport without having to maneuver around my car.
Once the lights were out, and I was standing beside my car, I gave an involuntary shiver at the darkness surrounding Sebastian’s place.
It was extremely dark here.
The lights that were normally on at night, were out. I’d thought that they were motion detected, but I must’ve been wrong since they weren’t catching my movement.
Then again, I’d never been over without Sebastian being home before.
I’d been shielded by the car, and hadn’t realized it’d gotten as cold as it did. Although, I’d heard there was a cold snap coming through.
Lights to My Siren Page 15