Rough & Ready (Notorious Devils Book 5)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Got friends that care about you, mm?” he whispers gently, pressing his lips to the spot just behind my earlobe.

  “Lis and I have been friends since I moved back to Cali,” I admit as my eyes roll in the back of my head.

  “I’m not letting you out of my sight until I know those fucks are not going to come after you. I’m going to find out about this guy who asked you out, too. I’ll keep you safe, baby, but you have to trust me to do that,” he murmurs.

  “You haven’t cared, ever. Why should I trust you now?” I ask.

  Paxton takes a step back, releasing me and leaving me surprised and cold. Then he narrows his eyes at me before he speaks. I expect his speech to be bitter, to feel the bite of his harsh words that I know are on the tip of his tongue, but he smiles and stormy eyes look so sad that it causes me to inhale a sharp breath.

  “I made a lot of mistakes, Cleo. I can admit that; and one day, you’ll understand why I did what I did; and maybe you might even be able to forgive me,” he murmurs. “But I thought I lost you, sweetheart. I thought you were fuckin’ dead. I can’t lose you.”

  “You pushed me away,” I whisper.

  “No more, Cleo. I’m not pushing you away from me again—swear to fuck.”

  I watch the silent battle happening, her eyes giving every thought away. Then she lifts her dazzling green gaze to meet mine, shifting her focus away from my throat. I’m practically holding my breath, waiting like a fucking pussy for her to speak to me. But I can’t push her. Not yet.

  I want her to make the right decision. If she doesn’t, I’ll do it for her; but it would be better all-around if she came willingly.

  “I don’t want Theo and Lis to be in danger,” she whispers. I grind my teeth together, pissed that she’s so concerned over these men and their safety, but not her own. “Can I continue to work here?”

  “This place is over an hour away from where I live,” I state.

  “I can’t leave Lis,” she murmurs.

  “You don’t have a choice, babe,” I grunt.

  Cleo’s eyes narrow, and I watch as she places her hand on her hip. The move makes me grin, and I wait with anticipation for her to bring out this new attitude of hers. She never had a mouth on her before, and I have to admit, it’s cute as fuck.

  “Are you going to kidnap me, then?” she asks, arching a brow in question.

  “Absolutely,” I shrug. Her eyes widen slightly, and she shakes her head.

  “I like working for Lis, and I’m good at it. I’ve never liked my job before, Pax. Please?” she pleads, changing tactics.

  “Clee,” I sigh, placing my hands on my hips and looking up to the sky.

  “Don’t take me away from my only friends. You want to keep me safe? Okay, fine. But don’t take me away from the only people who love me,” she says, placing her cool hand on my forearm.

  I think about her words for a second. The only people who love her? How can these two men be the only people who love her? Cleo is the sweetest woman I have ever known. I still love her. I couldn’t stop if I tried.

  “Sweetheart,” I rumble, cupping her cheek with my palm.

  “Please, Pax. What you want from me, I’ll give it, but don’t take me away from them,” she whispers.

  I close my eyes for a second and then open them, focusing on her green ones. She looks pained, stressed, and on the verge of tears. I trace her bottom lip with my thumb and nod once.

  “You come with me, in my bed and under my protection. You can still work here, but you’ll have a man at your back at all times,” I murmur.

  “A man at my back?” she asks, furrowing her brow in cute confusion.

  “Yeah, sweetheart. A man for protection. Me or one of my brothers will always be with you. I don’t know what’s going to happen with The Cartel, who or when they’ll strike, but I’m not leaving you swinging in the fuckin’ wind like a giant goddamn target, either.”

  “Okay, Pax,” she murmurs sweetly. I can’t help myself, I lower my chin and press my lips to hers.

  “Let’s go, sweetheart,” I urge.

  “This isn’t my car, and I need to pick up Theo from the pharmacy,” she explains.

  “Camo is right over there; he’ll follow us,” I say, pointing to the truck that’s parked across the lot.

  “You’re taking me now?” she asks with wide eyes.

  “Uh, yeah. Not letting your friends talk you out of coming back with me, and I sure as fuck ain’t leaving here without you. When I say that I’m protecting you, Clee, it means I’m fuckin’ protecting you.”

  She trembles beneath my fingertips, her body visibly shaking, but I can’t control my anger. She isn’t fucking getting it. This shit, it’s not a goddamn game. The Cartel is not a fuckin’ joke, and the shit they would do to her, it would ruin her. My sweet wife would never recover.

  “Give me your keys. Camo will follow,” I inform her.

  Holding out my hand, I wait for her to slip the keys into my palm while I call Camo and let him know to stay on my tail. I’m not as drunk as I was a couple hours ago, so I feel confident enough to drive to wherever Cleo needs to go.

  I open the passenger side for her and watch as she hesitantly slides inside. I jog around to the driver’s side and start the engine, then she gives me directions on which pharmacy to pick up her friend. I’m still not quite sure about their dynamic, but because these guys have dicks, I don’t like it. I don’t give a fuck if she says they’re gay. They have cocks, and she’s been livin’ with them. That shit stops now.

  I pull the Jeep into the parking lot and watch as the door to the pharmacy opens. A tall man walks our way. He’s got brown hair, and he’s muscular—not the geeky looking nerd that I had anticipated. He eyes me through the windshield, and I watch his jaw harden as it clenches.

  Opening my door, I get out of the car, leaving Cleo inside, not bothering to say anything to her. I make my way toward the guy that looks like he could give me a good run for my money in a fight. I’d still win, but he’d give me a workout.

  “So, you found her,” he grunts.

  “Thought she was dead, the way you left her place.”

  “Good, that’s the way it was supposed to look,” he shrugs.

  “Should punch you for that. My wife. You made me believe my wife was fuckin’ kidnapped or dead,” I grind out.

  “The wife you haven’t given much of a shit about in over a decade? Forgive me if I don’t give a flying fuck how you felt,” he barks, delivering his blow.

  “I’m here now,” I grunt.

  “Why is that, Paxton?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Doesn’t matter. I don’t have to explain shit to you. I’m taking her with me, and I’m going to protect her. That’s all you need to know,” I state, widening my legs and tipping my head down a notch. I have about two inches on this guy.

  “Doesn’t work like that, partner,” he rumbles.

  “She’s agreed, and she’s comin’. It definitely does work like that, partner,” I hiss.

  “Cleo?” he calls out. His eyes stay glued to mine.

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you and Lis. I’m going with Paxton, but I’m still going to work at the store,” she calls out.

  “You don’t have to go with him, Clee. Nothing’s going to happen to us or you. I’ll make sure of that,” he calls out. I can’t hold back my snort. His eyes narrow on mine and his jaw ticks, but he doesn’t say a word.

  “I’ll be okay, Theo. I promise,” she says gently.

  “You call me and I’m there, do you understand? I don’t give a fuck about Billy-Badass here. I only care about you,” he growls.

  Cleo slips in front of me and wraps her arms around his middle, hugging him and whispering something to him. I can’t hear her as blood rushes through my ears at the sight of her touching another man. I clench my fists and try to calm down. Thankfully, two seconds before I pummel the fuck out of this dude, she takes a step away from him.

 
“I have to pick up a few things from Theo and Lis’, then we can go,” she says, tipping her head back to look at me.

  I wrap my hand around her waist and give it a squeeze before dipping my chin down to look into her eyes.

  “Yeah, all right, sweetheart,” I murmur.

  She looks tired, stressed, and on the verge of turning into a sobbing mess. I don’t do crying bitches. In fact, the last time I held a woman when she cried, it was her. Cleo unloaded her life story on me when we were dating, the defining moment when I knew I needed to make her mine, and she cried. I held her and comforted her, back when I had a fucking heart.

  I never thought that I would ever, and I mean ever, be sandwiched between two big ass, albeit hot as shit, bikers. Yet, here I am, sitting directly between them, in a single cab pickup truck, on my way to what Paxton called his clubhouse.

  “You sure you don’t wanna take her somewhere else?” the man Paxton calls Camo asks.

  “Nope. Got a room and a bed there—kitchen, tequila and protection,” Paxton rumbles.

  I glance up at him to see that he’s staring straight ahead of me and at the window.

  “She ain’t in the life, brother,” he informs.

  “She’s also sitting right here,” I snap, looking up to the handsome, young, bearded man.

  “Sorry, babe,” he chuckles, grinning down at me before he turns back to the road.

  The rest of the ride is silent. It does nothing to calm my nerves about going to this mysterious clubhouse of Paxton’s. I have zero clue what to expect, just that Theo warned that the group was dangerous.

  When I was packing my small bag to leave, he gave me a long hug and whispered to call if anything happened, if I needed him at all, and he’d come get me. He told me to watch out for myself and try to stay out of sight in general. He did nothing but make me even more nervous.

  The pickup pulls up to a gate, and without touching a button or rolling his window down, it opens and Camo continues to drive straight through, parking the pickup.

  My eyes widen when I take in the big, plain, solid stone building. It looks like nothing. It’s all brick with a metal roof. To the left is a huge metal building that looks like a warehouse, storage, or shop area—I’m not quite sure what it is, but it’s big.

  “C’mon, babe. I have a killer fuckin’ headache,” Paxton grunts.

  I didn’t even realize he’d opened the door. He‘s now standing outside, holding his hand out for me. I was taking in my surroundings and not paying attention at all. He’s got my bag dangling from his fingers, and his light blue eyes are looking at me with nothing but impatience in them.

  I slide out of the pickup as quickly as I can and step onto the gravel and dirt as I wait for him to close the door behind me. His hand presses against my lower back, and I fight the smile that’s threatening to form on my lips from his gentle touch.

  We walk inside of the building, and my smile dies. It’s only around seven in the evening, but there is loud music playing, men drinking or playing pool, and smoke fills the air. Even still, that isn’t what kills my smile. It’s the women. They’re either naked or practically naked. Some are walking around, a couple perched on men’s laps, and one is on her knees in front of a man lounging in a chair. My eyes widen and my feet refuse to move.

  “C’mon, Cleo,” Paxton practically growls, pressing his hand a little harder to my back and propelling me forward.

  This.

  This is his clubhouse?

  This is where he expects me to live?

  Where he lives?

  The further into the room we walk, the sicker I feel. My stomach is tied up in knots, and I can feel the bile rising in my throat.

  The women—holy shit, the women. This is where my husband has been for the past decade? No wonder he hasn’t given a shit about me, where I am or what I’m doing. He’s had his pick of skinny, young women every night of the week.

  Why would he want me?

  Paxton pushes me into a room, and I glance around. It’s a plain room, with a dresser, a bed, a nightstand and a closet. It’s nothing special at all, but it’s decently clean, which was more than I expected from the activities happening in the main room.

  “I’m going to call Theo. This isn’t going to work,” I announce as I turn around to face him.

  Paxton flips the lock closed and lifts his eyes to look at me.

  “Why’s that?” he asks, arching a brow.

  “I can’t live here, Pax. I didn’t know this is the way it was going to be. Protection or not, I’ll just take my chances with Lisandro and Theo,” I try to explain.

  “Can’t let you do that, sweetheart,” he murmurs gently. His tone is actually very sweet.

  “You can’t really expect me to live here,” I whisper.

  “Get some sleep. You work tomorrow?” he asks, ignoring my question.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Good. Lock up behind me. I have a key,” he barks before he turns, walks out of the room, and slams the door behind him.

  “What the hell?” I whisper as I lock the door.

  I try not to think about where I am, what’s happening just a few feet away from me, or the fact that Paxton just left me to go to where all the action is. Instead, I change into my soft, cotton, bubblegum pink sleep shorts and tank before I crawl between his sheets. I close my eyes and cringe, trying not to think about the last time these sheets were laundered or what has been done on them.

  Rolling to my back, I look up at the ceiling and am unable to stop the tears from rolling down the corners of my eyes to my temples, and then the pillow beneath my head.

  This is my life.

  Paxton has had a hold on me since the day I met him at eighteen years old. He’s had a hold that I fear will never subside. He left me for over a decade, and I never moved on. I tried, in my own way, but I never let go of the hope that he would come back to me. Then he came back, he brought a mess of danger when he did, and here I am, completely dependent on him, once again.

  I hate it, and I hate myself for allowing it. I didn’t fight him, not really, and he knows I won’t. Like the fool that I am, I still love him. I probably always will.

  He’s my weakness, my Achilles’ heel—the one person that I always forgive; that I always let walk all over me; and that I always seek out.

  He was the one person, aside from my Gram, who showed me affection, and who took care of me when not even my parents did. He held me when I cried and told him about my childhood; he held me when I cried about my Gram passing. He’s always felt, right, good, and comforting in times when I hadn’t ever felt that way before.

  I roll over to my side and close my eyes, hoping and praying that eventually my exhaustion will take over and I’ll fall asleep in this strange place, in this strange bed, and all alone.

  I shouldn’t leave Cleo alone in my room, but I do. I can’t be with her right now. The look in her eyes when she realized where I live, and undoubtedly what and who I’ve been doing the past eleven years, was too fucking much for me to take. I decide to get some green and some tequila to relax.

  “Got any green?” I ask Soar as soon as I walk into the bar.

  “Always for you, brother,” he chuckles as he pulls out a bag and hands it to me.

  “Pre-rolled, nice,” I comment.

  “Know you don’t want to waste your time when you’re feelin’ the urge to smoke,” he grins.

  “For someone who acts like he’s not paying attention, you do, don’t you?” I ask him.

  Soar always appears to be high as a kite. I don’t doubt that he usually is, I just think that he’s way more aware of his surroundings than he lets on. Most of his incapacitated state is nothing but a pure act.

  “Brother, I’ve been getting drunk and high since before puberty. It’s when I’m sober that I got problems,” he chuckles as he reaches for the little brunette I sent crying from my room a couple weeks ago.

  She looks at me from beneath her lashes and gives me a small smi
le then presses her small tits against Soar and whispers something in his ear.

  “You down for that?” he asks with wide eyes. She grins with a nod.

  “Honey here wants us both to fuck her; she wants to know if you’re down with that, brother?” Soar asks with a chuckle.

  I blink at his words. Huh, her name is actually Honey—that has never happened to me before.

  “Not tonight, Honey,” I murmur, touching her nose with the tip of my finger.

  “C’mon, Honey. It’s just you and me tonight, babe,” Soar says as he slides her off of his lap to stand up.

  I look at her. Honey. Fuck, I didn’t even know her name, and I don’t give a shit, either. Not even now. I do find it interesting that I called her by her name. That’s probably another reason why she started attaching her fuckin’ self to me.

  She walks up to me and wraps her hand around my bicep as she stands on her toes and leans into me.

  “We’re cool, right?” she asks on a whisper, her bottom lip pushed out into a pout.

  “Yeah, Honey. It’s all good,” I murmur.

  “Miss you and your cock. Anytime you want me, Torch, I’m ready for all you want,” she grins before she turns around and walks up to Soar’s side.

  I watch as they leave, her bare ass moving with each step she takes. I take a joint out of the bag Soar gave me and I put it to my lips, lighting it as I continue to watch Honey walk away from me. Her big eyes, the way she looked so hopeful, and the way she offered to share her body and her ass with me spells trouble. It’s the reason I typically don’t keep girls around me for too long. Fuck.

  Making my way toward the bar, I decide to order a few beers instead of the tequila I had originally planned on for the evening. I have Cleo locked up in my room. I don’t want to get completely plastered. If I do, I’ll probably try to fuck her. Knowing her, even if she doesn’t want it, she’ll probably let me.

  “Wife, huh?” Texas asks as he sidles up next to me.