“Dad,” I begin. “Look, I don’t know how I could have any influence in this. I mean, I’ve never talked to Angel about any club stuff. Or Cas.” I spread my hands wide. “I wouldn’t even know how, to be honest. The Lords keep their business between them.”
“You’ve got to try,” he says stubbornly, shaking his head. “I need this deal, Jenna.”
Exasperation starts to well up inside me. “Well, why is this one deal so important?” I counter. “And if it’s such a big deal, why can’t you just go to the club and try to convince them yourself?”
“I already have.” He pulls himself up straight for a second, but then all the fight seems to leave him, and he slumps, defeated-looking, in his chair. “Jenna Lee. I can’t tell you everything. But please.” He looks at me with eyes full of desperation. “My life is in your hands.”
He never calls me Jenna Lee. Or rather, he never calls me that anymore. It was his nickname for me when I was a little girl — too little to realize that the scraps of affection that he gave me were just that: scraps. These days, he only called me Jenna Lee when he wanted to soften me up.
Still, I can’t escape the fact that the look in his eyes is one of sheer terror. It’s not a look that he could fake — and I know his acting skills well, having seen him use them on me and others for years.
My father is scared. Really scared. And right or wrong, he thinks I’m the only one who can help him.
I feel trapped, but there’s no way I can refuse my own father when I see how much this means to him. Sighing, I scoot my chair next to his and give him a brief hug.
“Okay, Dad,” I tell him. “I don’t know if it will work, but I promise. I’ll do my best.”
25
Cas
The next day is Jenna’s day off from work, so I don’t see her until early in the evening, once the club business I have to attend to is taken care of. I call her from the road and ask her what she’s up to. She tells me to come by for dinner, and I turn the bike around and head off in the direction of her place.
When I get there, I park the bike in one of the spaces reserved for the tattoo parlor. Hannah, one of the tattoo artists who also staffs the front desk, waves at me through the window. I raise a finger to her in greeting. The club knows all the people who work at Rebel Ink, since they’re our go-to place to get our ink done. They’ve probably done hundreds of tattoos for us over the years. Almost every tat I’ve got is the artwork of one or another of them.
“Hey, handsome.” Hannah sticks her head out the door of the shop. She’s tall and saucy, with fire-engine red hair and tattoos covering most of her upper body below the neck.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I reply easily.
“Been seeing a lot of you around here lately.” She nods at the stairwell that leads to Jenna’s place. “You got something going on up there?”
I grin at her. “You know I don’t kiss and tell.” Hannah and I fucked once, about a year and a half ago. It’s not common knowledge. She asked me to keep it a secret afterwards because she’d just broken up with Bruno, another tattoo artist at Rebel Ink. Apparently, Bruno was having a little trouble letting go of the relationship. Hannah didn’t want him to find out she was banging other people, lest he get jealous and belligerent.
Hannah steps through the doorway to chat. She winks and glances up toward Jenna’s apartment. “She’s a cutie-pie, that one. I kinda had my eye on her myself, but it looks like you got there first.”
I laugh. “I don’t think she swings that way, but yeah, I think the ship has sailed on this one.”
Hannah raises her eyebrows. “Oh? Is this serious?”
I lower my voice and lean in. “Like I said, I don’t kiss and tell,” I say, my tone conspiratorial.
“Well, damn, man.” She high-fives me. “It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. Good for you, dude.” She grins. “Now go get you some!”
I laugh and tell her I’ll be coming in for some ink sometime in the next couple of weeks. Hannah heads back into the shop. I’m just about to climb the stairs to Jenna’s place when I catch a slight movement out of the corner of my eye.
I turn to see that Charlie Hurt. He’s the cheap bastard who owns this place and lives next door. He’s sitting in a broken-down lawn chair in his front yard. Charlie’s peering at me keenly, and I realize he’s been watching my convo with Hannah. When I turn and stare him in the eye, he breaks my gaze and acts like he doesn’t notice me.
My fist reflexively clenches. I never liked that creepy fucker.
I shrug it off and head up the stairs to find that the door to Jenna’s apartment is open except for the screen. I tap on it and step inside.
Jenna’s in the kitchen, and gives me a quick wave while she stirs something. Noah is sitting on the floor next to the couch, a small mound of toys sitting beside him. He looks up at me with a wide, innocent grin.
“Hi, Cas!” he cries. “Wanna play cars?”
“Sure, buddy,” I laugh. “Just let me say hi to your mom first.”
I walk over to Jenna, who’s giving me a smile of her own. My pulse quickens, as it always does when she looks at me.
“Hey, you,” she murmurs as I wrap my arms around her.
“Hey, yourself.” I kiss her deeply, our tongues dancing, until I feel my dick start to rise to the occasion. I pull away and detach myself from her before it gets too out of hand. “What’s for dinner? Smells good.”
“Lime chicken,” she tells me. “It’s something I can get Noah to eat, as long as it’s not too ‘lime-y.’ And I hope you’re okay with broccoli. He thinks they look like trees, so he likes them.”
“I’ll eat whatever you’re cooking,” I say, reaching down to cup her ass.
“Fresh,” she murmurs, pretending to swat me away.
I go back into the living area and plop down on the floor next to Noah. “So, what are we playing?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Just cars.” He picks up a small toy motorcycle and holds it out for me to look at. “That’s your bike!” he tells me.
“Wow,” I nod. “It sure does look like my bike.”
“Uncle Angel gave him that,” Jenna calls out from the kitchen, a small note of disapproval in her voice.
“Yeah, Uncle Angel says I can ride with him on his motorcycle someday. When I’m bigger.”
“Over my dead body,” Jenna murmurs.
Noah’s peering at me now, a tiny frown on his face. “Uncle Angel says your name is Ghost,” he declares.
“It’s not my name, exactly. It’s my road name,” I explain. “Kind of like a nickname.”
“Are you a ghost?” he asks me solemnly, his eyes wide.
I grin. “No, I’m not. See?” I hold out my arm and have him feel it. “Solid as a rock. If I was a ghost, you could put your arm right through me.”
“Then why do they call you ghost? If you’re not a ghost?” he says, confused.
“Well, they call your uncle Angel ‘Angel,’” I reason. “Is he an angel?”
In the kitchen, I hear Jenna snort.
“Noooo…” Noah says, frowning as he thinks about this. “He doesn’t have wings.”
“Exactly,” I agree. “Sometimes, people just have silly nicknames. Like how your mom calls you bug. Are you a bug?”
Noah giggles. “No way!”
“Well, there you go,” I nod sagely.
“And you call me buddy!” he crows.
“That’s because it’s a good nickname. And because we’re buddies, right?”
“Yup!” he agrees, nodding his head furiously. I hold out my hand and he slaps it energetically. Just then, Jenna comes out with a stack of plates and silverware for the table. Her face has changed, just a hint, but it’s there: She looks serious. Something’s bothering her.
Wordlessly, I get up and take the plates from her. “You okay?” I ask.
“What? Oh. Yeah. I’m just a little tired is all.” Her gaze flickers away from me. I want to ask more, but I don’t press it.
Je
nna turns and goes back into the kitchen. I put the plates and silverware around, then go grab some milk for Noah and a couple beers for us. A few minutes later, we’re seated around the table, talking and eating together. Noah’s telling me all about his new preschool, and how excited he is for Monday to come. Jenna’s looking at him with such pride, but I can tell without even asking that it’s freaking her out a little that her kid is almost old enough for kindergarten.
As I sit there and listen to Noah and watch my beautiful, gorgeous Jenna across the table from me, I think about how anyone who was looking in the window right now would just assume we were a family.
And hell. Maybe we could be.
The thought occurs to me for the first time, and it’s like a lightning bolt at first. Why I don’t shrug it off immediately, I don’t know. But instead, I spend a minute or so just imagining it. Imagining that this is our life, and that I’m Noah’s dad. After all, I could adopt him, right?
The idea feels totally different than I would have thought it would. There’s a deep tug down in my gut. A deep feeling of longing. Of wanting something more than I’ve wanted anything in a very long time.
The only other time I can remember is when I started prospecting for the Lords. I wanted to be part of something. A brotherhood.
A family.
Now, I find myself wanting a real family. One of my own. With Jenna.
And the scariest thing is?
It doesn’t scare me.
After dinner, I help Jenna with the dishes — which still amazes her, even though I’ve done it before. She hates drying, so I position myself next to her and take the hot plates and silverware from the rinse rack, dry them, and put them away. Noah’s had his bath already, so she hustles him off to brush his teeth, and I sit flipping channels on the tube and wait for her to be done.
At bedtime, Noah specifically asks for me to come in and do story time with him. For a second, I have visions of him expecting me to do different goofy voices for all the characters in his book, and almost say no. But as it turns out, Noah likes to read his own bedtime stories. So I sit there on his tiny-ass bed, trying not to fall off, as he reads me a story about a cat named Pete who goes to the beach. As he’s following along the text with his finger, sounding out all the words, I glance up to see Jenna standing in the doorway. There’s a tiny little smile on her face, and her eyes are soft. I give her a wink and turn back to Noah’s book.
When he’s finished reading, Jenna comes to tuck him in. I give him a fist bump and tell him goodnight. Then I go back out to the living room so the two of them can finish their nightly ritual. Ten minutes later, she comes out and joins me on the couch.
“I never thought I’d see the day when a big, bad motorcycle rider would be listening to a four year-old read Pete the Cat,” she says, snuggling up to me.
“Look, that book is seriously interesting,” I protest. “And when that big wave comes?” I shake my head. “I thought for sure Pete was a goner. Goosebumps.”
Jenna starts laughing so hard she snorts, and then she raises her hand to her mouth in embarrassment and starts laughing even harder.
“Oh, my God!” she finally manages to gasp out as tears stream down her cheeks. “I can’t believe I just snorted!” She erupts into fresh peals and then snorts again. For a second, I’m afraid she’s gonna hyperventilate. But it’s fucking adorable to see her so helpless with laughter.
I go to the kitchen to grab her a glass of water and give her time to calm herself. When I get back, she’s still tittering and wiping at her eyes. “Oh, my God,” she giggles as she accepts the glass from me. “I haven’t laughed that hard in forever.” She takes a long drink and then closes her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply to catch her breath. “I can’t believe I didn’t wake up Noah.”
I pull her into my lap. “I guess I’m just gonna have to figure out a way to keep you quiet somehow.” My mouth covers hers and Jenna moans softly, pressing her breasts against my chest.
“Stay the night,” she whispers when I break away.
“You sure?” I ask.
“Yes. I’m sure.” Her eyes are shining, and there’s an undercurrent of lust in her voice.
My cock stands at attention. “I can make sure to be up and out of here before Noah wakes up tomorrow,” I rasp.
Jenna bites her lip seductively. “Let’s play that by ear for now.”
I stand up from the couch and carry Jenna into her bedroom. When I’ve undressed her and kissed her all over, I pull her onto me and lower her onto my waiting shaft. I watch as she takes her pleasure, riding as quietly as she can, until finally Jenna shatters around me and I lose control, filling her with my explosion and trying not to shout the house down.
Afterwards, we whisper quietly in the dark.
“You know,” she tells me, “I always had a crush on you. For years, growing up.”
“Seriously?” This is news to me.
She nods. “I was heartbroken that all we had was a fling.”
I’m surprised, and maybe even just a little mad. “You’re the one who left, Jenna. It wasn’t a fling for me. It wouldn’t have been one.” Even as I say the words, I realize they’re true. I remember now how it felt when she left. How pissed I was. I spent the next few weeks getting into fights with anyone I could manage to rile up.
“You shouldn’t have let me go.” Jenna whispers. “You should have made me stay.”
A rumble of laughter rolls through me. “Made you stay? Jenna Abbott, I caught on pretty damn quick that no one can tell you what to do.” I kiss the top of her head. “Except that little boy of yours. Seems like Noah has you wrapped around his little finger.”
Jenna doesn’t say anything. She’s quiet for long enough that I think she’s fallen asleep. When she does start talking again, she changes the subject.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. About what?”
“About the club.” Her hand goes to my chest. “How much can women know about club business?”
I think about it. “Old ladies can know a fair amount,” I say carefully.
She raises her head to look at me. “Am I your old lady?”
“You want to be?” I ask her. “I sure as shit know I can't make you do anything you don't want to do.”
Her eyes shine in the dark. “Yes. I want to be.”
“Well, then. There you are.” I kiss her deeply. “You taste sweeter as my old lady.”
“I wonder if I’ll feel different as your old lady,” she says saucily, wiggling her eyebrows at me. I’m instantly hard.
“Only one way to find out,” I say, reaching for her.
26
Jenna
“So, can I ask you about the club?” I say as we lie in the dark.
“You’re my old lady. You can always ask.” Cas pauses. “Old habits die hard, though. I’m not used to telling anyone anything about the Lords. What do you want to know?”
“Just… what’s it like, being in an MC?”
“Being in an MC, or being in this one?”
“This one, I guess.”
Part of me expects him to just brush me off, but he doesn’t. “Huh. It’s… like a family. Although the club doesn’t feel much like a family these days,” he says darkly.
“How so?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Everything’s tense. Seems like everyone’s out for themselves instead of a brotherhood like it’s supposed to be.”
Cas mentions a few names and how some of them are getting pissed about money issues. He talks a little about how the club is starting to have pressure from outside for the first time, with a rival club moving into territory south of town, too close to Tanner Springs for comfort. In a voice tinged with bitterness, he says that Rock doesn't seem to notice, or if he does he doesn’t seem to care.
I’m feeling awkward and nervous about bringing up what I have to. But I also recognize that Cas just gave me the best opening I’m likely to get.
“So… the deal you v
oted on yesterday,” I say slowly. “About the loan to my dad for the development. Is that part of the tension?”
Cas sits up and looks at me sharply, his eyes gleaming in the dark. “How do you know about that?”
I freeze for a second, trying to think of a good excuse, but I realize I can’t lie to Cas. “My dad came by to talk to me,” I admit. “He asked me to try to convince the club to change their minds.”
Cas frowns. “It’s already been voted on.” His expression is frank. “I was one of the ones who voted against it. I’m sorry, Jenna, but it didn’t feel right.” He sighed. “Angel voted against it too, by the way.”
I nod. “I know.” Shit. I’m feeling like I’m between a rock and a hard place. I don’t want to try to push Cas in a direction he doesn’t want to go. I don’t know the details of this deal, but I trust Cas’s judgment. If he feels like there’s something off about it, he might be right.
Hell, knowing my father, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Still. I told Dad that I’d try to help him.
So I do.
“Was the vote close?” I ask.
Cas lets out a breath. “Yeah.”
“Well…” I murmur, hating myself a little, “Can you put it up to a vote again?”
Cas is about to respond when there’s a noise at the door. I look over to see that the doorknob is turning. “Holy shit!” I whisper, clutching the sheet to me, but Cas stops me.
“It’s okay,” he says. “I locked the door.”
“Mommy?” Noah’s little voice comes from the other side.
“Yes, bug?” I motion for Cas to put something on. He reaches down and grabs his boxer briefs from the pile of clothes on the floor.
“I’m scared!”
“Okay, honey, just a second!” Looking around frantically, I find my panties and put them on, then in desperation pull Cas’s T-shirt over my head. It hangs down almost as long as a dress on me.
Cas looks over and gives me a low whistle. “Nice,” he says appreciatively.
“Mommy!”
BEASTLords of Carnage MC Page 31