Ruthless

by Gillian Archer

  Brent closed his eyes and shook his dark head. “Kaden, what did I say about the puppy?”

  Sensing the kid wasn’t totally on the up-and-up, I let him slide down my side and stepped away. I was not getting into the middle of this.

  Kaden hung his head and refused to look up at anyone.

  “No dog until you can keep your room clean for a week.” Brent stared down at the top of Kaden’s head. “Got it?”

  Kaden nodded glumly. And my heart broke. What little boy didn’t want a puppy? Life was just so unfair sometimes.

  Brent patted the top of his son’s head. “Why don’t you go see if Pop needs any help with the yard? I’m sure he’s got a few holes you can dig.”

  And just that quick, Kaden’s embarrassment and sadness were gone. The prospect of hole digging was the perfect distraction.

  After the back door slammed behind him, I turned to my big brother. “A whole week? How fair is that? I don’t remember you making your bed once when we were little.”

  “Hey, when you have a kid you can tell me what I’m doing wrong. But until then butt out, little sis.”

  “Whatever. You wouldn’t listen to me even then.”

  Brent laughed. “You’re probably right.”

  But still I couldn’t leave it entirely alone. “Every little boy deserves a dog, Brent. It’d make him so happy.”

  “Yeah, well, with Amy gone it’d just be another responsibility for me.” Brent looked away and hitched a shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “I don’t need the guilt trip.”

  The mention of Amy was enough to make me regret saying a word. Brent’s ex had run off and left him with a toddler and credit card bills he was still paying off. Two years and a divorce later, the witch still had the power to turn my brother’s life upside down when inevitably another bill popped up.

  “Sorry, Brent.”

  He just shrugged and walked away.

  The back door closed behind him and I turned to give my mom a look.

  I didn’t need to say anything. She clucked her tongue and hugged me, her tiny frame dwarfed by my tall one. With her petite body and dark hair, most wondered how I fit into the family. At times like this, I kind of wondered myself. No matter what, I seemed to always put my foot in my mouth when it came to Brent and Kaden.

  “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. And I happen to agree with you. I think a dog would do wonders for his little family.”

  I pulled back with a soggy laugh. Of course Mom would agree with me. Her love of dogs was legendary and shared by me. If I didn’t spend so many hours at work, I would’ve gotten a dog years ago. I just couldn’t stand the guilt of leaving one home alone for hours, and I knew the insanity of more than one—my parents’ pack of Scottish terriers being a great example. Besides, I could always come over here to get my doggy fix.

  Of course, now that my guard was down, Mom chose that exact moment to pounce.

  “So you never told me how the date with Charlie went,” she said as she led me into the kitchen.

  “Horrible.” I turned away from her with a sigh. I really hoped she’d let me leave it at that. “You have to stop setting me up with random strangers, Mom. That was the last blind date I’m going on. No more.”

  “Ah, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad. Charlie seemed like such a fine young man at the grocery store.”

  I rolled my eyes. Should I have been surprised she was scoring me random dates with men she’d met in the produce aisle? “Well, it was. Never again. He was the definition of a narcissist. So promise me, no more blind dates, no more setups, no more ‘Jeanie’s son really wants to meet you.’ I’m done.”

  “Okay, okay, okay. You don’t have to beat me over the head with it. I just worry about you. You’re already twenty-eight and still single. When I was your age, I had three children.”

  I swear if I had a dollar for every time I’d heard this particular rant…“Yeah, well, I’m not you, Mom. I like where I am right now. And I’m not lonely. There are…men in my life.”

  “What? Who? Since when?”

  I wasn’t sure which question to answer first. So I went with none of them. Lord knew I wasn’t going to tell her about Zag and our one-night stand. “The minute I’d bring a guy over here, he’d get the third degree from you and your army of nosy sons. Not to mention Dad.”

  “What? Why, we’d never—”

  “Rob Watson.”

  “Well, honey. That one was not my fault. Brent and Wes were very protective of you when you first started dating. And for good reason.”

  “Good reason? What was wrong with Rob? He was president of the debate club, captain of the swim team, and held an almost perfect GPA. Most mothers would’ve been thrilled to have their daughters bring him home. He was safe.”

  “Now, sweetie, he couldn’t have been all that perfect. He was so easy to scare away, after all.” My mom bit her lip as she held in her laughter. It didn’t appear to help her quivering lip.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well, I think that had more to do with the two looming brothers threatening bodily harm if Rob ever tried to get beyond first base.”

  “Those are my boys.” This time she didn’t even try to hide her triumphant grin.

  “Whatever.” I turned away to fiddle with emptying the dishwasher.

  “Come on, Jess. It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Not that bad?” I turned back around and pointed a saucer at my mom. “I was a pariah. No one would date me after Robbie. You guys don’t know the meaning of boundaries. I don’t bring the men in my life over for a reason. I’m not a teenager anymore, Mom. I can take care of myself.”

  “I know that, honey. But I’m a mom. Just because you’re an adult, it doesn’t mean I magically stop worrying about you.”

  “Well, maybe you can spread the matchmaking around, then. Why don’t you try setting up Brent? Or Wes?”

  I didn’t even feel a little bad throwing my brothers under the Mack Truck of my mom in her matchmaking mode.

  “Wes is a little young to be thinking of marriage.”

  “Young? He’s only two years younger than me.”

  “Yes, well, he’s a man.”

  Like that explained it. “Fine. Why don’t you put your matchmaking hooks into Brent? He could use the attention of some nice young woman you know—or your friends know.”

  Or some random crazy woman she met at the grocery store.

  “You think I haven’t? If I could get him to sit still for five minutes I would’ve had him set up the minute he divorced that harpy.”

  Of course Mom couldn’t refer to Brent’s ex by name. In this house Amy was like Beetle Juice or Bloody Mary—no one dared say the name, as if it would somehow conjure something up.

  I focused on putting the dishes away while I nodded along to Mom’s lecture on my shrinking fertility window. Thank you, daytime TV. Mom really needed another hobby other than those morning doctor shows.

  Oh, wait, she had one. Me.

  Yay.

  I had to admit I was a little surprised Mom hadn’t managed to get Brent on one date in the two years since his divorce had been final. Although that did explain how she had so much time to spend on me and what she thought was my lackluster love life. Whereas I was happy enough with my love life. I wouldn’t have changed one thing about that night. With Zag. I had to bite back the dreamy sigh. I couldn’t show those cards to my mom.

  “Honey, give the girl a break. She’s young, she’s healthy, what more do you need?” My dad stopped on his way through the kitchen to give me a side hug.

  “Thanks, Dad.” I gave him a quick hug back and felt a little more at peace. This was how I fit into my family—I’d gotten my blond hair and height from my dad. I just hoped he kept the male-patterned baldness and wrinkles to himself.

  Mom didn’t even look up from the stove. “Grandkids. That’s what I need.”

  Dad gave me a wide-eyed look behind Mom’s back, then grabbed a beer from the fridge. “We have Kaden. That
kid’s a big enough handful for us.”

  I mouthed a “thanks” at him before he beat a hasty retreat. That was my dear ol’ dad. Sneak attacks before retreating to some corner of the yard where my mom would never think to look.

  “You think it’s funny now, but mark my words, one day soon you’ll be lamenting your wasting these ultra-fertile years.”

  I bent over to sort through the utensils in the dishwasher and bit back what I really wanted to say: No, Mom. I’m just really hoping the condoms held up a few nights ago. For me right now, the last thing I wanted was a kid. I had way too much fun in bed with my badass biker.

  “Are you even listening to me, Jessica?”

  I looked up from my salad. “Yes, Mom. You want another grandkid no matter who the father is. I’ll get right on it.”

  “Jessica. Misty. Miller. That is not funny.”

  I ducked to hide my grin. Really? I thought it was.

  My mom gave a ragged huff. “I just want you to be happy. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “I am, Mom. You’re the one who’s not listening. I love my job. I love my friends. I love my family. And I am out there. I just don’t bring every possible candidate home to you. I promise you if I meet that one special guy, I’ll bring him over for you all to interrogate and terrify. But for now just be happy that I’m happy. Without Mr. Perfect in my life.”

  My mom looked at me for a second, then nodded grudgingly. But I heard her mutter as she turned back to the stove, “I still think you’d be happier with a man.”

  I snorted. Dear God. If she only knew.

  Chapter 5

  Zag

  JUNE 8

  Zag bent over the frame of his buddy’s custom chopper and stared at the clusterfuck of wiring he was supposed to be connecting. If there was one part of his job as a mechanic that he hated every second of, it was electrical work. The wires were too fucking small for his thick fingers; every time, he ended up with a tangled train wreck that he didn’t want to look at, let alone spend time untwisting.

  Like now.

  Fuck. Every single goddamn time.

  He pushed back from the frame with more force than necessary. The bike rattled on the lift but fortunately didn’t topple over. Because that would’ve been the fucking cherry on this craptastic Sunday.

  He really needed a drink.

  Only the thought of the mess of wires he’d find when he showed up at work tomorrow kept him from popping the top on one of the cold ones they kept in the communal fridge. If he was having such a shit time wiring now, he knew alcohol wouldn’t make the job any better.

  What he needed was a little stress release.

  Like some more quality time with Jessica. That would sure as hell work out the kinks in his neck right about now.

  Although the thought of her spread out naked on his bike lift caused a whole ’nother problem below the belt. Thank God he was in the shop alone. At least he didn’t have an audience while he was sporting wood in front of a bike frame. Reb or Bump would never let him hear the end of it.

  The sound of the door rattling had him looking for something to hide his boner behind like he was a seventh-grader who toted his math book up to the chalkboard with him. He hoped he didn’t look too suspicious hiding behind his tool chest, ten feet from the bike lift. Christ, he had to get this shit under control. He couldn’t remember a time when just thinking about a chick got him so wound up.

  Still, it wasn’t a bad problem to have. Just fucking embarrassing.

  But every thought of embarrassment drained out of him the minute he saw Bobby standing in the doorway of the shop. Bobby’s jaw was a muddle of purple and red. His right eye was purple and so swollen he could hardly open it.

  “What the fuck?” Zag left the shield of the tool chest and was at Bobby’s side in an instant. “Shit, kid. Who did this? Do we need to ride on those fucking Truckee Tramps?” If their rival club had screwed with one of his prospectives, there would be hell to pay.

  Bobby’s gaze dropped to the pavement and his shoulder hunched.

  And Zag knew.

  There was a reason why Zag had been willing to sponsor a virtually unknown prospective member. With his own fucked-up background, Zag knew how hard it was to admit what was going on at home. Especially to a hard-ass biker. Weakness wasn’t allowed in their group. Hell, half the time the guys beat on each other for fun. But Zag knew what Bobby was going through wasn’t fun. Or easy. Which was why he’d argued hard to get Bobby into the club. He’d taken one look at Bobby and had just known. They’d shared a bond. One Bobby wasn’t even aware of.

  Zag took a deep breath and tried to soften his approach. “Was there something you needed, kid? I’m elbow deep in some wiring work and you know how much I love that.”

  Bobby hitched a shoulder. “I, uh, I was hoping you could help me move?”

  Since Bobby wasn’t watching him, Zag didn’t bother to hide his reaction. Son of a bitch. He could understand why the kid wanted out, but given what he assumed a prep cook at the Mother Lode Casino made and the hours Bobby worked, Zag doubted the kid could afford much.

  “Have you signed a lease yet?”

  Bobby’s head jerked up and he leveled a glare at Zag. “What’s that gotta do with anything?”

  Zag didn’t flinch. It’d take a hell of a lot more than Bobby’s one-eyed glare to get under his skin. “Just answer the question.”

  “No. It’s Sunday, the office is closed. I’m supposed to go over tomorrow and fill it out.”

  Zag walked over and snagged the keys to the shop’s pickup. “Come on. Let’s go check out your new digs.”

  Bobby stared mulishly back at him.

  “Well, do you want the help tomorrow or not?”

  “Fine.” Bobby pushed back from the doorway and stepped outside. “But I don’t have a lotta shit to haul. Just needed someone with access to a truck.”

  Zag hitched a shoulder, then followed Bobby out the door and tried not to feel so special about being asked to help. He knew the kid didn’t mean anything by it, but it was the first time he’d ever asked for anything. Hell. He had to nag the kid just to get him to accept a position as a prospect in the club.

  And Zag had never nagged anyone in his entire adult life.

  The minute Bobby told him the address, Zag got a knot in the pit of his stomach. Unless some do-gooder had changed the neighborhood, they were not driving toward a decent end of town. He’d had a feeling this would be the case. Shit.

  Zag was tempted to finally spill the beans to Bobby about what his own childhood had been like, why he’d joined the club, and why he’d pushed like hell to get Bobby in, too. He stole a glance at the kid out of the corner of his eye and decided maybe this wasn’t the time.

  Bobby held his fisted hands in his lap, and his jaw flexed as he no doubt gritted his teeth. He had don’t-come-anywhere-near-me vibes radiating a mile wide. Shit. Shit. Shit. Subtlety had never been one of Zag’s strong suits. And he had a feeling Bobby needed to be treated with kid gloves right now.

  So instead they rode in silence the entire way over.

  But the minute Zag turned into the apartment complex’s parking lot, he knew he’d have to say something. The kid gloves were coming off. No way in hell was he letting Bobby move in here.

  No one would voluntarily leave their gorgeous tree-lined street to move into this hellhole. The best thing he could say about the place was that it had landscaping—if you could call sun-baked brown grass and tumbleweeds landscaping. Between the falling-down car ports no one was brave enough to park under and the spray-paint-tagged buildings, Zag knew Bobby had to be desperate to call this shit hole home. But judging from the bruising on Bobby’s face, that wasn’t exactly a surprise. Zag was just as desperate to get Bobby out of that horror show he called home. But he wasn’t letting the kid move in here.

  He stopped the truck in the middle of the parking lot and turned to Bobby. “Not happening.”

  “What?”

  “You. Mo
ving in here. Not happening.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Zag. I’m not a kid.”

  “You’re eighteen years old and don’t have two nickels to rub together. But I’m not letting you move in here.”

  “Fuck you, man. If you think I’m staying home, you’re smoking something. I don’t have anywhere else to go. This is what I can afford, and I didn’t ask for the commentary on my shitty life.”

  “I wasn’t commenting. It doesn’t gotta be like this.”

  “Yeah, well, unless I hit Megabucks, this is my life. Are you gonna help me move or not?”

  “Sure. Just not the way you asked.”

  “God dammit, Zag. I don’t—”

  “I got two extra bedrooms. One of them’s yours.”

  “I don’t want a handout.”

  “Ain’t a handout. You can pay me whatever rent they were asking for this shit hole.”

  Bobby stared out the passenger window and didn’t answer right away. His sullen anger vibrated inside the cab.

  Zag picked at the aging rubber on the steering wheel. “This is pretty much the same deal Reb offered me twenty years ago.”

  “What?”

  “Only I wasn’t the one who chose to leave. My mom threw me out at sixteen. She decided that I was putting a crimp in her druggie lifestyle. I’m pretty sure it was her dealer/pimp boyfriend’s idea. Made it easier to hook without her kid walking in the door. So Reb took me in.”

  “Shit,” Bobby whispered.

  “I couldn’t afford to pay rent. But Reb still took me, gave me a roof over my head and food in my belly. I worked like hell to pay him back, but it never feels like it’s enough. I’d die for that guy. But until then, how about you let me pay it forward?”

  Bobby jerked his head in a short nod.

  “All right. Let’s go get your shit.”

  “I, uh—”

  “Kid, I can promise you there’s nothing at your house that I didn’t see a thousand times at my own. Don’t sweat it.”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  This time the drive was less awkward. Bobby was still a bundle of nerves. He practically twitched with every bump in the road, but he was a little more relaxed. At least he wasn’t worried anymore about what Zag would find when they got to his house.