by Marie James
“I thought he didn’t—” Holding up my hand to silence her, I continue to glare at my brother’s best friend. VP or not, he’s going to be in a world of hurt if he doesn’t get that girl off him.
“Can I suck your dick?” I hear the brunette ask.
All of my focus is on him and this new girl. I’m waiting for him to tell her yes, but the words don’t come. His only saving grace is the sour look on his face as she wiggles her hips. He must be trying to prove a point, either to himself or to me. The fact that he might be letting this shit happen, so I don’t get suspicious about him and Molly calms my racing heart a little.
Being the asshole that I am, I pull my phone from my pocket and snap a picture of the girl on his lap. If he’s doing this to prove a point, either to my little sister, or to me, having proof of his indiscretion isn’t a bad idea.
“What are you doing?” The strain and fear in Briar’s voice make a wide smile spread across my lips, and I full out laugh when I see him push her a little to get her off his lap. She doesn’t budge, but I commend his effort.
“I’m documenting your return to manhood.” My words are sugary sweet, but I know he can read the look on my face, and it clearly says take this any further, and you won’t have to worry about the celibacy vow because you won’t have a dick to fuck with.
“I’m next,” Legs says.
“Better find someone else to fuck tonight, doll.” I sneer down at Legs. “You won’t be getting a piece of me or a piece of him.”
Legs huffs but is smart enough not to throw an insult or argument as she stands and walks away.
The girl on Briar’s lap says some stupid bullshit, playing the innocent card, and I snort a humorless laugh. The girl can’t play virginal when the first thing she said to the man was offering her mouth to be fucked. At the same rate he pulls in air to his lungs, he tilts that whiskey bottle to his lips. At the rate he’s going he won’t have to worry about making a decision. The alcohol will render his cock useless.
Just as I expected to happen, ten minutes later he’s passed out, head laid back on the sofa and soft snores coming from his parted lips.
“Oh shit,” Ronan spits when the front door slams shut.
My eyes snap from my sister, to the girl licking Briar’s neck, and back to my sister again.
“Hey, Princess.”
After noticing the girl on Briar’s lap, my sister glares at me as if she’s expecting me to do something.
“You aren’t the only one who knows how to handle a knife, big brother, but I won’t be as disciplined or discerning as you.” Another smile spreads across my face. People underestimate Molly because she’s so tiny, but they fail to realize she was raised in the brutality of this club just like Lynch and me. She can handle herself, and I have no doubt she means business when she takes a half step toward the girl still attached to Briar’s neck.
“You can’t ruin the man’s good time,” I tease as her cheeks redden.
“Oh fuck.” Ronan must see the angry tremble in her fists because he shoves the chick getting ready to suck his dick away and stands to cross the room. “Hey, honey?”
The newest patched member to the club circles his arms around the brunette’s waist, and I flinch when Briar doesn’t move. He’s so fucking drunk he doesn’t even realize the chick was there. My gut clenches because I beat the shit out of three guys the other night for doing this exact same shit to Kaci. The double standard hits me in the face a little too late. Jesus, I’m just like that asshole who didn’t say anything when those two fucks were assaulting my girl.
“Eighty-sixed. You got it, Princess,” Ronan says before carrying the girl out the front door.
Briar jolts awake when Molly kicks his boot, but he’s slow to respond.
“Baby?” The pain and love I hear in his voice is all the confirmation I need for the way he feels about her.
“Where did she go?” Briar asks the same time my sister reaches for him and says, “A little help, TJ?”
I can’t help the chuckle that slips out because this situation is just as messy as the one I placed myself in with Kaci.
“Why were you letting that girl lick all over him?” Molly asks as I help hoist Briar’s heavy body up to standing.
Irritation flares. I can’t be fucking responsible for every damn person in the world. I’m not Briar’s keeper.
“He’s a grown man,” I remind my sister. “I’m not his mother or his warden.”
“He was passed out, shithead,” she snaps.
“Such a pretty mouth saying such nasty things,” Briar slurs.
“He wasn’t passed out when they got started.” Pain multiplies like pressure in a dropped can of soda in my gut when I see her face fall. Apparently, she’d let herself believe that chick was acting on her own accord without an invitation.
Hurting Molly is the very last thing I want, but sometimes the asshole in me escapes before I can close my mouth.
“I was going to kill her instead of you,” Briar whispers. He’s talking to Molly, but his head is right beside my ear, so I hear the words meant only for her.
Briar is a brutal motherfucker, but he’d never lay a finger on a woman unless she deserved it, and although he didn’t really want that chick tonight, she didn’t do anything to deserve being hurt. I take his words as a joke, even though the thought of what it means in my head makes me want to cringe.
“You drank a little too much to be murdering anyone’s pussy, bro.” I cringe at my words as I help Molly get Briar onto his bed. My sister is grown by legal standards, but she’s a few years past ripe for club standards. Lynch and I got an extra early start when it came to sex. I pray Molly is untouched, but it’s not something I want to think about.
“You coming?” I ask her as I back away from the once again passed out VP.
She shakes her head as she continues to stare down at Briar.
“Be careful, Princess,” I warn as I kiss her forehead before leaving the room.
Against my better judgment, I whistle at Legs from the entryway to the living room. She pops off Hornet’s dick as if it’s spring-loaded and follows me down the hallway. I can’t even revel in his curses as we walk away. I have no ties, no strings to anyone, but guilt still washes over me when I close us into my bedroom.
Chapter 9
Kaci
I fed off the pain my father’s words stabbed me with for the better part of a week. Today, I’m restless once again. I don’t often drink alone, and recreational drugs are meant to be used in social settings. I’m not so far down the rabbit hole that I snort coke when I’m home alone, but today I’m considering it.
I eat my tacos from Tito’s at the restaurant all while pretending I’m interested in the soccer game playing on the widescreen TV above the bar. The guy that is always standing on the front stoop of the liquor store was nowhere to be seen when I walked by earlier, and even the laundromat was missing its usual criminal vibe.
I’m waiting in Tito’s until the sun fully sets. Maybe the deviants don’t come out until the light leaves the sky. Normally, I’m not roaming around this early, but my fridge is empty, and I can’t be bothered to go grocery shopping.
Walking home delivers the same less than stellar thrill that walking to the restaurant did. It’s quiet, and unfamiliar, but the sinister feeling of someone lurking in the shadows doesn’t hit me tonight. It’s as if the slums of Andover have grown a conscience since my last trip down the street.
The creepy vibe I couldn’t find on the way to get food renews full force when I reach my door. A card is closed in the door, and from the looks of it, the only way that could’ve happened is if someone opened my door to put it there. I pull the card out and push my door open, but I’m only greeted by darkness. Whoever it was didn’t bother to lock the door, but they don’t seem to be waiting inside either.
The rush of my blood echoes in my ears as I step inside and close the door without bothering to turn on a light. Standing in the middle of the roo
m seems ridiculous after several long minutes of hearing nothing but my own breaths, so I click on my bedside lamp and stare down at the card. When I finally get around to turning it over to read, I realize just how crazy it is to be invited to party on a hand-written note. I don’t have friends. There isn’t anyone I speak to with any regularity. Hell, I only see my parents once a damn year.
What I don’t think is crazy is my rush to get ready because the card says free alcohol and free transportation. Worcester is over an hour away, so whoever is throwing this little get together wants me there badly if they’re sending someone to pick me up.
I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed when an Uber driver pulls up outside, rather than some mysterious town car, but I force myself to consider since a car service like Uber is seemingly friendlier, it could be intentional, a way for the person who invited me to set my mind at ease so I’ll actually get in the car.
“Who hired you?” I ask the driver as soon as I climb in the back.
“Lady, I just go where they tell me.”
He doesn’t say another word to me the entire drive to Worcester. I still tip him generously even though he assured me he’d been compensated. Although the music in the dive bar is loud enough to be heard from the parking lot, the lack of cars, even for a Tuesday night, is concerning. Assuming this was going to be some big to-do was clearly a mistake, but I let my high-heeled shoes carry me inside anyway. I’m not going to miss free drinks for anything.
These people inside must’ve traveled together because dozens of smiling and half-drunk faces look my way when I enter the bar. Women dressed in tiny strips of clothing filter through big men wearing leather cuts. I have no firsthand knowledge of bikers, but everything I’ve read and heard about the guys in this area say they’re nothing but trouble.
My smile grows as I walk deeper into the room. These guys are clearly used to women throwing themselves at their feet because even though I’m dressed to the nines with tons of skin showing, some don’t even bat an eye when I saunter past them on my way to the bar.
“Tough crowd,” I murmur as I wave down a waitress and order a tray of shots.
Men hate to see a woman drinking alone, and I know just how to lure in the most dangerous ones.
Just as promised, the bartender doesn’t ask for money, but I shove a twenty in her tip jar anyway. Wasting daddy’s money is the least I can do for the way he treated me on Seth’s birthday. I toss back a shot, and when the guilt doesn’t wash away with it, I tilt another one up. The waitress only smiles and replaces the two empties with two new ones.
“Be careful in here,” she warns. “These guys are bad fucking news.”
She tilts her head as if indicating I should look behind me, but I give her a bright smile. “My favorite kind of men.”
I walk away, carrying the tray loaded with shots to an empty pub table near the dance floor. Several women are dancing seductively, putting on a show for a couple of guys paying them attention. I swear if there was a pole in the middle of the room, they’d all be fighting over it. That thought only makes me smile harder because men watching easy women are the ones I’m after.
“Party favor?” I grin when a tiny bag of coke is shoved in my face, but only because of the drugs. I’ve been hungry for a line for days, but it’s a female offering me the coke, not a man with ulterior motives. I don’t turn her down because there’s still the chance she was sent by one of the guys in here to get me loosened up. Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened. A shiver runs down my spine, but I push the memories away.
“What do I owe you?” I reach into the small pocket of my jeans, but her hand covers mine before I can pull cash out of it.
“Girls don’t pay here.”
I look at her, shocked, and a little turned on by her sultry voice, which is curious because I’ve never been attracted to a woman before. Granted, I’m rarely attracted to anyone, and the pull I get at parties has more to do with the possibility of getting hurt than the looks of the person doing the damage. I’m met with vibrant blue eyes and a grinning smile.
“I’m Xena.” She offers me her hand, and I take it. When she pulls hers away, the tiny little baggie of coke is left in my palm.
“Thanks, but I don’t have—”
“Here,” she offers pulling a small mirror and rolled up bill from her purse.
“Are you here to butter me up so one of the guys can swoop in and fuck me?”
She seems like the kind of girl that appreciates honesty, and I just can’t seem to keep my mouth shut tonight, which is unusual for me. Normally, I want to be left alone to get high while others circle me like prey. My need to socialize tonight is why the Uber driver refusing to chat irritated me so much.
“They won’t.”
“What?” I pull my head back before I can get the coke up my nose.
“They usually don’t try to get my girls.”
I grin at her but lower my head to snort before I comment on that.
“Your girls?” My voice squeaks because of the burn in my nose, but my new friend doesn’t seem to mind.
“Xena’s mouth is legendary.” Another girl slides up to the table I’ve commandeered. She tosses two shots from my tray back before speaking again. “I’m Vixen.”
I shake her hand also, but this girl isn’t looking at my tits like Xena did when she first walked up.
“Kaci,” I offer to both of them since I just realized I didn’t tell Xena my name when she introduced herself. My head is already spinning, but I look to Xena to ask for more. “Can I get another?”
“Give it a minute,” she answers. “Our shit is really strong.”
“I know my limits.” Why I’m arguing with the girl who just got me high for free isn’t something I can concentrate on right now.
“Give it a minute,” she repeats but hands me a shot glass in substitution.
Both girls are smiling at me when I set the shot back down on the tray.
“Wanna dance?” The question is moot since they each have one of my hands in theirs, and they’re already dragging me to the dance floor.
The sound system is a million times better than any frat house I’ve partied at, and for once, I’m having a good time rather than looking for trouble to get into. The night is young, however, and in my experience, I know trouble will still be waiting for me when I decide to seek it out.
We’re three or thirty songs in, I’m too fucking high off one line of coke to keep count when the entire bar explodes in a roar. From what I can tell, a couple of popular guys walk in, but I can’t see them through the others dancing around me.
“Who’s here?” I ask the girl closest to me. I don’t know if I introduced myself to her yet or not. Honestly, between the coke and the shots, I don’t know if I could introduce myself. The only thing I can focus on is the sway of my hips and liquid feeling of my body as it moves along with the music. Did I mention the ecstasy tab? These people have the best fucking drugs.
“TJ, Ronan, and Boston,” the chick slurs beside me.
“Stay away from TJ unless you like getting hurt.” She leans on me so much, I nearly topple over.
“I’m not an emotional kind of girl,” I inform her, but her head shakes back and forth almost violently.
“He may fuck with your emotions also, but his knife is what does the most damage.”
“You’ve had enough,” Xena says as she loops her arm under the girl and carries her off the dance floor.
My mission has changed. Ten minutes ago, all I wanted to do was dance and have a good time. I was numb enough to just exist in this moment with people I don’t know, but the mention of pain, something like knife play that can do serious damage, and my focus is adjusted to meet my desires.
Chapter 10
TJ
The fanfare when Ronan, Boston, and I walk into the bar is a little over the top, but it’s expected. A brief shower is all we managed when we got to the clubhouse before driving to Worcester to meet up with every
one else.
The drops in New York went off without a hitch, and now it’s time to relax and have a little fun. My aim is on the bar. Not for the liquor, but because Molly and Zoe are standing there talking. Checking with my family is usually my number one focus, but I’d be a liar if I said my senses weren’t heightened with the thought that Kaci will be here. The invitation was a little over the top, but the prospect I trusted to set it up assured me he did exactly as instructed. Her key was under the mat just like usual, so leaving it with tempting and menacing flare was easily accomplished.
I know Kaci’s game already. The woman is hell-bent on getting herself hurt, and I’m hoping she wouldn’t resist the invite.
“Sister. Sister-in-law,” I greet, kissing each of them on the temple.
I ignore Zoe’s half step away from me. Seems she hasn’t gotten over the little incident in the basement. She’ll come around in her own time, I guess.
“Where’s Lynch,” Molly asks innocently like I can’t read her like a book. She isn’t asking about our older brother. She’s more interested in his road partner this trip.
“He and Briar are still in Detroit. Won’t be home for a couple more days.” I hold my hand up to signal the bartender, and just as I’d hoped, she heads my direction.
“I hope you don’t plan on sticking around up here. Service is shit for us when you bring out that smile.” Zoe doesn’t look in my direction as she focuses on the other side of the bar.
“You said this was invite-only.” As a group, we all turn around to look at Legs. Like an angry little monkey, and just as clingy, she has her arms crossed over her chest. The agitated tap of her foot is a little over the top, even for her.
“It is,” I answer, but that doesn’t stop Legs from turning to point in the direction of the dance floor.
“Who is that?”