Nike scowled at Dante then looked over at Ash. “He chased my sis with Tama, and helped kick down the door where she wuz trapped.”
Ash’s face darkened. He grabbed Sledge by his hoodie, and dragged his howling brother over to the couch.
Dante shook his head at Nike. “You touch him again and Ash won’t be able to stop me.”
Nike sneered. Dante knew exactly what he was thinking.
Ash crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at Sledge. Although Ash was twenty-four, a few years older than Dante, he looked more like his twin, with his jet-black hair, dark eyes, and imposing build.
“Is this right, bro?” Ash asked Sledge. “You helped Tama hurt Nike’s sis?”
Sledge’s hands remained over his nose. “No.”
“Fuckin’ liar!” Nike lunged for Sledge.
Dante grabbed Nike and threw him onto the floor. Nike’s head hit the TV cabinet. Dante raised his boot.
“No!” Ash shoved his brother before he could stomp down.
Dante turned on Ash and pushed him back. “I told him not to touch Sledge!”
Ash placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Chill. Nike’s sis almost died last night. Lighten up on him, okay?”
“I don’t fuckin’ care, he hurt Sledge.”
“Just leave; I’ll take care of it.”
“Not if that prick keeps attacking my li’l bro.”
Ash let out a frustrated sigh. “Then sit next to Sledge.”
Dante grunted and sat down on the leather couch. He placed an arm around Sledge’s shoulders and glared at Nike.
Nike got to his feet and touched the back of his head. Blood smeared his hand. Shit, Jess was going to do her nut when she saw him. He wiped it on his top, now dreading going home.
“I didn’t know Tama wuz gonna stab her,” Sledge’s muffled voice broke the silence. “I thought he wuz just after a bit of pussy—”
Before Nike could react, Ash whacked his brother across the head. Sledge let out a howl. Dante got up and pushed Ash, who shoved him back down.
Ash pointed a finger at Dante. “Stay down; I’m in charge not you.”
Dante got back up and chested Ash. “Sledge said nuthin’ wrong. Why the hell didja hit him for?”
Ash moved his face to within an inch of Dante’s. “Cos Nike’s sis is fourteen.”
Dante flinched. His gaze dropped to Sledge, his expression now uneasy. “But she’s only a few years younger than Sledge and Tama,” he added, his voice sounding uncertain.
Ash looked at Dante like he was stupid. “What ... you think it’s alright to fuck a kid?”
Dante shook his head. “No, I didn’t say that. But Sledge is a kid too and he didn’t touch her. It’s different from what happened to you.”
“What happened to you?” Sledge asked.
Ash ignored him. “He is not a kid. Nike’s the same age, and he’s married with a baby. Sledge needs to grow up and stop hanging out with scum.”
“Tama’s my mate,” Sledge yelled. “Don’t slag him off.”
Ash sidestepped Dante and placed his hands on either side of Sledge’s head. He leaned forward. “He attacked your sister and you’re defending him.”
Sledge sunk further into the couch. Blood smeared his face, his nose was swollen, and he looked like he was going to piss himself.
“Tama didn’t attack her, she lied. She tried to fuck him while he wuz sleeping. She screamed when he pushed her off.”
“And you believe him?”
“Shit, yeah. Juliet’s always comin’ onto him, but he doesn’t fancy her. Says it would be like fuckin’ me with a wig on and he’s no homo.”
Dante laughed. Ash glared at him.
Dante grinned. “What? It’s funny. She does look like Sledge in drag.”
Ash massaged his forehead. “Just go home, Nike. I’ll talk to ya tomorrow.”
Nike shook his head. “Not until Sledge tells me everyone who wuz involved.”
“I’m not a fuckin’ nark,” Sledge yelled.
Ash punched the couch next to Sledge’s head. “Tell him. Now!”
“Trey, Naf, Mikey, and Corey.”
Ash looked at Nike. “Good enough?”
“What’s Trey last name?” Nike asked.
“Phillips,” Sledge grumbled.
“I thought it wuz him.”
“Good, now leave so I can have a chat with Sledge,” Ash said.
Nike nodded and headed out the front door. As he walked across the grass he heard both Sledge and Dante holler at Ash to stop. He didn’t know what Ash was doing (exactly), but by the noises coming from the house he knew one thing—justice was being served.
17
Jess
Jess was setting the table when the ranch-slider opened and Nike stepped inside. There was blood on his face and shirt.
She dumped the cutlery, and ran over to him. “Oh God, Nike, what have ya done?”
He held out his hands. “It’s not what ya think. I did nuthin’ wrong.”
Yeah, right! She was going to CSI his arse. “Whose blood is that?”
“Mine and Sledge’s.”
He sidestepped her and headed for the table, his eyes fixated on the food. Sliced ham, mashed potatoes, and peas were laid out on two plates, while a banana poi pudding sat in the centre of the table. He reached for a piece of ham.
“Stop! You’ve got blood on your hands!” Jess smacked him. “What’re ya thinking?”
“I didn’t.” He turned and strode down the passage and into the bathroom.
She ran after him, noticing more blood matting his hair. “What happened to your head?” she asked, closing the door behind her.
“I banged it.”
Nike undressed as Jess tried to check the wound. He stopped to swat her hands away. “Stop fussing, woman.”
“No! Lemme have a look.”
“Lay off, it’s just a bloody scratch.”
Shit, he was annoying. Everything was just a “scratch” to him even if it required stitches. He’d needed ten for one particular scratch a few weeks back from a rugby match.
Nike stepped into the bathtub and turned on the shower, wincing as the water hit his head.
“Scratch” my arse, Jess thought.
While Nike washed his hair, Jess rifled through the cupboard above the mirror, looking for plasters and antiseptic cream. After finding what she needed, she popped the packets next to the sink and turned back to Nike.
Her gaze fell to his hands as he lathered his chest and stomach. Nike mumbled something. She glanced up at his annoyed expression. He probably thought she was going to tell him off. Yeah, she wanted to, but his body was distracting her.
The soap slipped out of his hands. Her eyes locked onto his butt as he bent over to scoop it up.
He straightened up, giving her a sidelong glance. “Will ya stop bloody givin’ me the evils?”
“I wasn’t.”
Feeling overheated and needing a distraction, she opened the door. Steam escaped the room, intermingling with the cold air from the passage. Why did he have to hurt Sledge? Nike had a family now; he needed to start thinking about the consequences and reign in his damn temper.
“What didja do to Sledge?”
“Smacked his face in, but his bro wuz doin’ a whole lot worse when I left.”
“You’re kidding me?” Why would his brother do that?”
“He’s extremely pissed that Sledge wuz involved.”
“So, didja...” Her words petered out as she watched him clean his cock. She cleared her throat. “Didja find out what ya wanted?”
“Yup.” He turned off the shower and stepped out of the bathtub, giving her a look that said, “Yeah, baby, I know what you want.”
She quickly turned around, and opened the packet of plasters.
His hands slipped under her sweater.
“Stop that. You’re wet.” She yanked them out, and faced him. “Dry yourself so I can check your head.”
“I
bet you’re wet too.” He cocked his head to one side. “Take off your clothes.”
“No.” She smacked his hands as he tried to lift her sweater. “Dinner’s ready, and your head needs fixing.”
“It’s fine, but my cock needs sumpthin’ wrapped around it. I’m not fussy, you choose. Hand, pussy, mouth, or—”
“Don’t cha dare say it, you ain’t gettin’ it.”
“Okay, then pick one.” He moved her up against the vanity. “Or do ya want me to repay you for last night?”
“No, turn your head so I can put a plaster on.”
With a wide grin, he grabbed his cock and moved his fingers around its head. “Like this?”
Unable to keep a stern expression anymore, she started laughing. “Stop it, Nike.” She smacked his arm.
He leaned forward and kissed her, pressing his erection against her stomach. She grabbed his butt, and returned the kiss. His hands moved down her body, quickly relieving her of her jeans and knickers.
She wiggled about as he started playing with her clit. “Ooh, baby, that’s too intense.”
He dropped to his knees and spread her legs, his tongue taking over from his fingers. Jess clutched the vanity, the build up getting stronger as he continued to spear her. She gasped and grabbed his head. He let out a yelp.
“Shit. Sorry,” she said, realising she touched his injury.
“No worries.”
She relaxed and closed her eyes as he started up again. Moans escaped her mouth as he worked her. His hands moved to her arse and he pushed his face hard into her. She grabbed his shoulders. Oh God, oh God…
He pulled away. Her eyes shot open.
Nike smiled up at her. “You sure you don’t wanna put a plaster on my head?”
“No. I’ll do it later.” She pulled on his shoulders.
He stood up and brushed against her body, his smile widening as he stepped back. “We better stop and have dinner.”
Jess could see that he was trying not to laugh. She had warned him what she’d do the next time he tried to play her.
She grabbed his balls. “You’re a pussy tease, Nike.”
His eyes widened. “Ow! Nails!”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” She slackened her grip and massaged them.
He smacked her hand away.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. You don’t hafta get so shitty ‘bout it.”
“It wuzn’t your nuts gettin’ pierced. Go lie on the bed.”
As she turned he smacked her arse, causing her to squeal. “And don’t do that again,” he said.
She rubbed her butt and walked off, muttering, “Cunt,” under her breath as he followed her into the bedroom.
Jess pulled off her sweater and lay down on the bed, wondering whether she should tell him to go stick it up his arse. It wasn’t like she hurt him on purpose, and he damn well knew she hated her arse being smacked, yet he still did it ... and bloody hard!
“Get a condom,” she grumbled.
He shook his head and crawled up over her. As if he would have listened anyway. He hated rubbers and usually refused to wear them, but she couldn’t use contraceptives because of breastfeeding.
“Come on, Nike, we hafta—”
He yanked her bra up and latched his mouth onto a breast.
She arched her back. “Yeesss.”
Within seconds he lifted his head. “Blah ... bloody breast-milk.”
Jess giggled. He looked so funny with his nose screwed up and his tongue sticking out.
He pushed up onto his knees, then groaned as she fisted his shaft, his expression changing in a heartbeat. “Oh, yeah… Keep doin’ that, babe.” He sucked in a breath then let it out with a hiss as she tightened her grip.
Fuck condoms, she wanted him raw. Jess guided him inside.
Nike lifted her legs to his shoulders and started to pump her. “You feel so good, Jess.” His eyes glazed over as he picked up speed.
She gripped onto his shoulders. His muscles were tense and his skin damp from the shower. He stopped for a quick kiss, then started up again.
“Harder, Nike.” Jess gasped as he hit her just right. “Again.”
Crying came from the lounge.
“Nooo… Not now, Jakey!” she yelled. “Just one more minute.”
Nike picked up speed, his thrusts now urgent.
The crying continued, getting louder by the second. Jess tried to block it out, but failed miserably. “Nike—”
Nike mumbled an apology then let out a hoarse cry. He flopped on top of her, his breathing heavy. After a moment he withdrew and got up.
“I’ll deal with Jakey.” He wrapped a towel around his waist, and headed out of the room.
Annoyed with Jake’s timing, Jess jumped out of bed. A sudden feeling of wooziness hit her. She swayed on her feet then fell back onto the mattress, and blanked out.
Once she came to, she sat up and wiped her face. “What the fuck was that?”
“What the fuck wuz what?” Nike was standing in the doorway with a concerned expression, and Jake in his arms.
Jess stared at him for a moment, surprised that she’d passed out.
“You alright?” he asked.
“I just...” she stopped, not wanting to worry him. It’s probably my own fault. I should’ve eaten more. As if on cue, her stomach growled. “I’m fine. Just gimme five minutes, and I’ll be out.”
She waited until he left, then stood up. Relieved that she didn’t feel faint, she headed for the shower. Her stomach grumbled again as she stepped into the bathtub. Yeah, there was nothing to be worried about, she just needed some food.
18
Tama
Tama dug his knife into the wooden coffee table, carving Jess’s name. Why did all the ugly chicks, except for Leila, like him? Why couldn’t he have a hot chick like Jess? He was good looking.
He wondered what Jess was doing right now. Probably eating dinner with her drug running husband. He bet his balls that Jess didn’t know what Nike was up to. She was too sweet. Well, he was definitely going to tell her, then maybe she’d leave the prick.
After finishing the last S, he downed the rest of the beer, belched, then pushed off the couch and headed for the fridge. Beer, pizza, and nothing much else lined the shelves. Tama rifled through the pizza box and pulled out a couple of slices. He added a six-pack to his stash and went back into the lounge, dumping the beer onto the coffee table. Cold pizza, yum, he thought as he jammed it into his mouth.
Headlights lit up the spew green curtains, followed by the rumble of an engine. Concerned that it could be the pigs, Tama threw the pizza onto the coffee table and ran over to the window. He pulled back the curtain a fraction. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Jayden’s van parked in the driveway. He’d been dreading dealing with Jayden since he’d left the hospital. Oh, he was going to smash the fucker up alright, but it didn’t mean he’d enjoy it.
The interior lights went on in the van. Annie was in the driver’s seat and Lil Jay in the back. What the fuck was Jayden still doing with her? He growled as Jayden leaned over and kissed Annie. The fucking hypocrite!
Tama pulled out his knife and flicked it open, staring at the blade for a moment. Bugger it. Although the bastard deserved it, he couldn’t cut him. Jayden was too much like a brother. He closed the knife and shoved it back into his pocket.
But there was no way he’d take it easy on the prick. He just hoped that Annie and Lil Jay stayed in the van. He didn’t want the kid seeing his dad get hurt, and Annie would also try to stop him. Even though she was a Daniels, he didn’t want to hurt her. He’d always thought she was a sweet girl, but way too dumb for his taste. The stupidest things would come out of her mouth, along with a goddamn awful whiny twang served up with a side order of religious claptrap.
Footsteps clomped against the pavement and up the steps. Tama sidled up to the door. It clicked opened and Jayden stepped inside. Tama pushed it shut and turned the lock.
Jayden jumped. He started backing up, pan
ic written across his face.
Tama sneered. “Why ya lookin’ at me like that for?”
Jayden shook his head as he edged towards the back door. He wore a striped jumper, jeans, and a bandage around his head. Cuts crisscrossed his face, while his eyes were black and blue, matching his clothing.
It didn’t matter to Tama. He wouldn’t risk belting Jayden’s head anyway, but any other body part would do just fine. Busted ribs hurt like holy hell, and he should know, Nike did two with a baseball bat.
Jayden continued to back away. “I didn’t mean to...”
“You didn’t mean to, what?” Tama asked, walking towards him.
Jayden bumped into the table. “She ... you and Nike...”
Tama’s muscles tensed. Before he pounded Jayden he needed to know one thing. “What happened to your face?”
Jayden moved around the table, getting closer to the back door. “Annie’s father smacked me over.”
Tama felt his cheeks redden. He was no longer angry, he was fucking furious. He had hoped that Leila had done the damage to Jayden’s head—that the fight wasn’t one sided—but he had been fooling himself. Oh, he was going to hurt the bastard alright, and by Jayden’s expression his mate knew it too.
Jayden turned and lunged for the back door just as Tama launched at him.
19
Annie
Lil Jay giggled in the back seat of the van as Annie pulled funny faces to keep him amused. Other than the thick mop of hair he’d gotten from his father, Lil Jay looked just like she had at the same age, with his small nose and dimples.
He stopped laughing and let out a big yawn.
Annie glanced at the dashboard clock. It was already seven o’clock, Lil Jay’s bedtime. She leant over and pulled up the blanket, covering his Spiderman pyjamas.
“Close your eyes, sweetheart,” she said.
“But Mummy, I’m not tired.” He yawned again. “Where’s Daddy?”
“Just gettin’ some stuff,” she replied, nervously.
Annie peered through the passenger window, focusing on the shadows moving across the lounge curtains. Was Leila trying to talk Jayden into staying? God, she hoped not. No matter how guilty she felt, she still didn’t want to give him up again.
Behind the Hood (Behind the Lives) Page 9