Without Consequence

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Without Consequence Page 21

by Victoria L. James


  When I eventually walked through, her sleeping body was still curled up on her side. My chest expanded as I took a deep breath in and nodded in thanks to fuck knows who before I started to make my way across to the side she lay on. There was a small chant going off in my head. Don’t look at her, don’t look at her, pretend she doesn’t even exist… but as my hand reached for the bottle of pills, everything was drowned out by the sound of her sleepy voice as she began to wake up.

  “Good morning,” she said, on the tail end of a yawn as she rolled onto her back. She arched from the mattress, her arms reaching above her while her legs kicked out, her ankles rotating slowly. Collapsing back against the sheets, she looked up at me and smiled. “How are you feeling?”

  Shit. Half turning my face to watch her, my eyes trailed up and down her body as it stretched out in front of me. My jaw set tight as I struggled to keep it together, the muscles twitching in double time before I lifted up the bottle of pills and let my gaze fall back on her face. “Great,” I answered sharply.

  She rolled her eyes, almost as though she had expected my mood, and curled back up in a ball, her hands tucked between her thighs as her eyes flickered to the clock on the nightstand. “Oh, shit.”

  My attention fell back to the bottle of heaven in my hands as I fiddled to flick the cap off. “What?”

  “Work. I’m late.” She kicked out her legs and lifted her ass from the bed, digging in her pockets for what I assumed was her phone. “I can’t afford to miss another shift.”

  Pouring a handful of pills into my palm, I let some filter back into the bottle before throwing a few down the hole – probably more than I should have, but at that stage, I didn’t give a fuck as long as her shrieking stopped and my head calmed down. “What?” I snapped again, my face scrunching tight as I looked over at her and tried to swallow them without water.

  “Work. Late,” she enunciated, twisting her phone in her grip and tucking strands of her hair behind her ear.

  “Right. Work…”

  Growling at the phone in her hands, she sat up and bounced to the edge of the bed, looking down at her jeans and barely-there tank top in frustration. She was on her feet and shoving her phone back in her pocket before I could blink. Her quick movements were not helping the state of my head. “I should go find a phone or something.”

  My eyes closed as my brows rose high and I cringed. “Could you go find a phone a little quieter?”

  She shot me an amused look before pulling her shoes on and surreptitiously sniffing her shirt. My pain seemed to amuse her. “Absolutely, then I’ll put some coffee on.”

  “You don’t have time,” I snapped back at her quietly, turning away as swiftly as I could without making my head feel like it was doing an exorcist spin. “You should probably just go. Deeks will take you wherever you need to be.” Waving a hand over my shoulder, I tossed the pill bottle back down on the side and let out a long, tired, irritated sigh.

  “I’m already late as it is,” she whispered. “I still have to go home and change. I can’t drag Deeks around. I’ll just take my car.”

  “Yeah, just take your car. Don’t forget to keep looking over your shoulder for that bullet that could be flying through the air towards your head at any minute.” I shook my head slowly, growling as I looked down at the floor, then back up at her. “Just go with fucking Deeks, Ayda. I got spare clothes in my closet.”

  She was already moving back towards the bed with her hands pulling her hair back to include the escaped pieces. For a moment, she wobbled before dropping her ass to the mattress and bouncing there. “Don’t be flippant about that, Drew, and you know I can’t wear your clothes.”

  “Because that would be too easy, right?”

  “No, because that would be some crazy possessive claim over you to those women out there.” She dropped her hands to her legs and looked up at me as though daring me to contradict her.

  I stared at her in complete confusion. “A claim? Over me?”

  “Drew, it didn’t take me a week to see the politics around here. These girls, they strut around after the fact wearing yours, and,” she flung her arms up, “any of the pack’s clothes like a trophy. They’re saying to the other girls, ‘Look who I just fucked. Stay away until I’m through with him,’ and to the men, it’s a challenge to be next in line. There’s an order to it.”

  My body turned fully and my hands fell to my waist as I ran my teeth over my bottom lip repeatedly. When I looked up at her, I saw the flash of nerves flicker across her face for just a second, even if she did try to hide it. “You listen to me. I don’t get claimed by anyone or anything. Take the goddamn clothes or leave them, I really don’t care. All that high school crap that you think you see out there is all in your head. This place is about one thing: raw, brutal honesty. We want something? We go get it. The girls want to fuck? They don’t hide it. They don’t even wait. It’s basic animal instincts out there. No one cares about what hoodie is on your back, Ayda. We’ve got bigger problems to deal with.”

  I knew that I was being that asshole she had me pegged as, but with everything in my head feeling like it was being stomped on by a thousand feet, I couldn’t find it in me to care about anything other than getting out of here.

  My head shook slowly as my eyes dropped down to her mouth then back up again. “I don’t get claimed,” I repeated in a rough whisper.

  She nodded in understanding and looked back down at her hands in defeat. “Understood.”

  “And stop being so fucking reasonable all the time. It’s really starting to piss me off!” I didn’t give her a chance to reply before I turned and started to walk away, shouting over my shoulder as I went. “Get your things and go. I’m paying you for last night and you’re riding with Deeks today.”

  “Wait! What? Excuse me?” she shouted, pushing up to her feet. “The fuck you are paying me. I’m not a fucking whore, Drew. Jesus Christ.”

  I paused by the door, my hand resting on it as I looked over my shoulder slowly and glared at her through narrowed eyes. “Maybe if you were, I wouldn’t be so eager to have you gone.”

  “Go fuck yourself, and shove your protection up your ass. I’ll take the fucking threat over this bullshit. This fight has nothing to do with me. I’m going back to my life. Find someone else to pick up after you. I’m not some dog you can kick around.” With that, she stormed out of the bedroom door, slamming it as hard as she could behind her.

  My foot took a step forward to chase after her, but when reality hit that seeing her again was the last thing I could face in that moment, I stayed exactly where I was and collected myself. I didn’t know what the hell had just happened. I didn’t know much of anything through all the fog in my brain. The only thing I knew with absolute certainty was this:

  No one spoke to Drew Tucker like that and got away with it.

  Stepping back into the room, I went over to the closet in the corner, pulling out three or four hoodies before slamming the door shut and marching myself back out into the corridor. I knew my face was set like I had a thundercloud hanging over me. It was pretty obvious by the way the sea of people parted out in the bar area the second they glanced in my direction. When my eyes landed on the first group of women I could find, I sniffed up, cleared my throat and rolled my shoulders back. Then I made my way over and whispered quietly in the first brunette’s ear. “Hand these around to your friends and keep them on all day. Apparently it means the four of you are mine, which also means tonight, we get to party. No matter who the fuck wants to bitch about it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Ayda

  I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. Each footfall fell harder than the previous one and carried me to the door. I ignored any comment and snide remark thrown at me as I kicked the barrier out of my way and stepped into the glorious sunshine of a brand new day.

  “I’ll pay you for last night,” I mimicked in a deep baritone as I jumped off the porch and headed to the gate. “Fucking prick. Thinks
he’s God’s fucking gift when he’s the devil. The fucking devil himself.”

  I tried to unlock the gate as fast as I could, but got frustrated when it resisted and kicked the damn thing with fury before gathering myself together and sucking in a breath. I was torn between tears and growling out a string of profanities. The tears were from frustration, but I wasn’t going to let him see he’d got to me. How could I have seen two completely different sides of the same man in less than twenty-four hours? The man that had just spoken to me like I was a hooker wasn’t the same man I’d shared a bed with. The Drew I’d been introduced to this morning was bitter and cold. There hadn’t been an ounce of remorse for the way he’d treated me.

  So who was the real Drew Tucker? He had more sides than a dodecahedron – kind, hurt, bitter, in pain, angry, open, shut, drunk, sober, hot and cold. The list was becoming endless. I knew how he’d made me feel last night; he’d made me feel that way before. But all of that was pushed further and further away the more he spoke that morning, until all I felt was cold, solid anger.

  This wasn’t who I was, and it was the very reason I knew I could never go back there. I didn’t like who I was when I was with him. My fingers tangled with the gate as a ghost of mourning the loss of that comfort fled my system. I was gripping the thing with my head hung when I felt someone reach around and flip the lock for me, his sad sigh echoing the one that forlornly left me.

  “Go back inside, Deeks.”

  “You know I can’t do that, sugar.”

  “Yes. You can. You just don’t want to because this makes your life easier.”

  “It also keeps you alive while you have a target on your back.”

  Stepping through the gate, I headed toward my car while Deeks headed toward his bike. He knew there was no way in hell I was going to let him in my car with his logic. I wasn’t in the mood to listen, and I sure as shit wasn’t in the frame of mind to dwell on the fact that the threat on my life was very real. All I was interested in was getting home, washing the scent of him off me and working myself into oblivion.

  I’d barely unlocked my car door when my hands slapped on the roof of my car. “I didn’t ask for any of this, Deeks.”

  “Honey, you know I respect the shit out of you, but that’s just bullshit. Those fools in there can’t see past their own noses, but I see more than you think I do.”

  “I’ve never underestimated you.”

  “Oh, but they have.”

  I raised an eyebrow in his direction before climbing into my car. This had started out a really bad day, and it wasn’t going to get any better.

  Drew’s expressions played on a loop in my head all morning. My thoughts replaying the whole argument again and again, my own look now matching the scowl he’d worn. It didn’t improve my mood in the slightest, and although Deeks seemed to accept that he was the target for my irritable disposition, it didn’t mean he was the only one on the receiving end. I’d thrown a plate at Rusty because he scrambled rather than poached an egg order. I’d snapped at Janette for being kind enough to deliver my order, while accusing her of thinking I was incapable. Poor Sam had used the wrong swinging door, almost sending a tray of coffees over me and had to leave the kitchen for thirty minutes after I called her a babbling idiot.

  My anger was misdirected, but volatile, and the moment Maisey Sutton strolled through the door, it reset itself and aimed its crosshairs directly onto her. If ever there was a perfect time for her to walk in, I felt as though she’d been served to me as an act of divine intervention. Nothing could abate the anger I was feeling in my chest.

  “Sweet Jesus,” Deeks mumbled as I rested my hip on the counter where I’d been grumbling about refilling his cup for the millionth time. He apparently hadn’t felt the same way about her being there. “You picked the wrong day to walk your ass back up in here, Sutton.”

  “Shut up, watch dog,” Maisey said haughtily, with a yappy bark added on for effect. She was wearing another one of her polyester blend wannabe outfits, which was being tugged into shapelessness by her discomfort. She slipped into a booth, set her bag on the surface, and eyeballed me with attitude. “Well?”

  “Well what?” I snapped back, folding my arms. “You want me to applaud the fact that you made it to the other side of the room in your fake ass shoes without them breaking under your fat ass?”

  “Careful, sweetheart, you’re looking a little green around the edges.”

  I barked out a laugh. “Sorry, honey, delusional isn’t my style.”

  “Whatever. I want a sweet tea. Think you can manage that?”

  She wasn’t sitting in my section, but in that moment, it didn’t really matter all that much. Deeks watched me, half with curiosity and half with concern as I tipped an imaginary hat in her direction and went about filling her request.

  I ignored the mumbled speech from Deeks and sauntered across the linoleum floor with purpose, stopping short of the booth before tipping the ice and tea filled glass on its end, directly over her head. She was on her feet as quickly as she had been the last time she’d been in, her screech of indignation making me laugh aloud. I think what scared me the most was my lack of remorse in that moment. There wasn’t so much as a twitch of guilt for what I’d just done, even as she skated around like a deer on ice.

  “You stupid little bitch. Have you forgotten who my husband is?”

  “The old, saggy balled, washed up, chief of police? I wouldn’t brag. He’s hardly a catch.”

  Deeks’ laughter was louder than I expected. He’d followed me over and was preparing himself to break things up again. This woman had made a fool of me once, but I was a fast learner, and this time I was prepared for anything she threw at me. The comment about her husband, however, seemed to be the one to tip the scale.

  This time, I threw the first punch, the flash of pain in my knuckles making me swear as I decided I was all in and threw my body at her. The war cry must have alerted the people in the kitchen to exactly what was going on, because as Maisey threw me to the side, I saw them filter from the room and hurry towards the two of us.

  Deeks was the first to stop me, his thick arm a bar across my stomach as he hauled me to my feet and back. I sagged against him, my body giving up long before my head did. My hands felt swollen as they hung by my side, but the rage continued to boil my blood. Irrational hate for this human being was the only thing in front of me.

  “You haven’t heard the last from me. I will charge you with assault.”

  I scoffed in her direction. “I’ll be in the cell next to yours, my mood not improved and no one to break us apart. You may have married the chief of police, but that doesn’t supersede your record, dumbass.”

  I didn’t hear Deeks laugh this time. I felt it as he pulled me further back. I hadn’t even realized my legs were treading air.

  “Get out of here, Maisey.”

  “Yeah,” I reiterated. “And if your husband asks what happened to your face, tell him to come talk to me. I’m pretty fucking sure he’ll be interested in why you’re stalking me.”

  “This ain’t over, skank. I still have friends in the hut.”

  “Friends who have probably fucked Drew since you’ve been gone. Sure.”

  I knew I’d managed to get under her skin. She ran the strap of her bag over her shoulder three times before she spun on her spiky heel and marched out. I was breathing so heavily, my ears were ringing, but that wasn’t to say I missed the look on Rusty’s face.

  “You. Go home and sort your shit out, kid. Calm the fuck down. Come back when you can act like an adult.”

  “Rusty–”

  “Go. Home.”

  No matter how much I needed the money, I didn’t argue. With a quiet apology to Janette and Sam, I grabbed my things and slipped out the back door. Deeks, who seemed to be a permanent shadow, followed me out without saying a word and slipped a cigarette in his mouth while he mounted his bike. He wasn’t judging me, he was just being, and even with my mood, I appreciated him for w
hat he was doing. Today, he was a silent companion, and a slightly misconceived, hairy and overweight version of my conscience.

  It seemed as though I was quite the metaphor for my life these days. All day I had been mulling over the fact that Drew had too many moods to conceive. I’d spent hours agonizing over the fact that I didn’t know him at all and berated myself for being so goddamn stupid. I had accused him of not knowing who he was, when here I was, completely lost and unable to recognize myself or a single decision I had made. What did that make me?

  A hypocrite? Absolutely. An idiot? Certainly. A defeatist?

  Fuck.

  I was almost half way home when I realized I didn’t want to be in the house alone. I was craving something normal. Something that I’d had before all of this shit quite literally went to the dogs. I wanted to go and watch Tate at practice like I used to do before mom and dad had died.

  Easing my car to the shoulder, I turned around slowly, waving to Deeks that I was okay, and headed for the road that would take me to the Babylon Bulldogs’ practice field.

  The boys were moving around in perfect precision as I pulled up. Their formations were comfortingly familiar. It was something I’d seen run since I was old enough to sit on my daddy’s shoulders at a game.

  The little huddle of coaches off to the side had me stepping out of my car and up to the fence to watch closer before I was chased away. Deeks’ motorcycle gave off a deafening roar as he pulled in behind me, which meant all eyes on the field were now turned to us, which was about the same time I noticed that Tate wasn’t there.

  Tate wasn’t there.

  I was about to launch into full-scale panic, when I turned to stare at the man behind me, the only other person who would know why I was so distraught. He knew as well as I did that there was a target on my back – that someone wanted to hurt me to get to Drew. What if they were using Tate to get to me?

  “Deeks?”

  “Relax. He ain’t here because he’s still at the hut, kid.”

  I didn’t respond. I was already swinging around my car door and slamming it closed. I was halfway down the highway when I saw him finally catch up with me, his head shaking as he tore along on my tail.

 

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