by Bijou Hunter
Later, Sydney relaxes next to me and stares out the window. I like how we can go long periods with only silence between us. She doesn’t need me to entertain her and she doesn’t prattle on just to hear herself speak. These moments are comfortable and I need more of them.
“I’m going to get something to drink. You want a soda?” she asks, climbing out of bed.
Sydney pulls a long black tee from the little dresser in the corner of her room. Too big to be hers, I know the shirt belongs to a guy.
“Take it off,” I say, grabbing at it.
“Hey, your brother gave me this.”
I pounce on her, ready to tear off the shirt. Sydney starts laughing and wiggling under me.
“It’s my dad’s, you idiot,” she said, laughing so hard her cheeks are pink.
“Which is it? My brother or your dad?”
“Let me ask you this, Bo? Why the fuck would your brother give me a shirt when he can’t even give me an orgasm?”
I stop yanking on the shirt long enough to smirk. “He’s a bad lay. I like that.”
“Of course you do. What about me though? I have to act impressed by the bad lay.”
Laughing, I sit back on the bed and tug her down with me. “I’ll try to make up for what he lacks.”
“You’re not going to tell him what I said, right?”
“Scared?”
Sydney loses all the humor in her eyes. “You know he’ll kick my ass, right?”
“Don’t worry,” I say, wanting to kick Cal’s ass more than usual. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Even nodding, Sydney looks nervous as she sits cross legged on the bed. “I shouldn’t be ragging on these guys. I don’t know why I am.”
“I fucked your brains out. You’re welcome.”
Sydney gives me a smile that turns me into a teenage loser again. I just stare, unable to speak. She knows I’m horny mess because she twirls her hair like an old time villain twirled his mustache. The bitch plays me too well and I want to hate her. I can’t though. The fucking is too good and I feel relaxed in a way I haven’t enjoyed in years.
“I’m hungry,” I say, tugging at her little plump toes. “You have fat feet.”
“You can’t eat them, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
Grinning, I’m relieved she doesn’t freak out about a fat feet comment.
“They remind me of baby feet,” I say, thinking of the old neighbor kid with his chunky limbs. He must be in middle school by now.
“I have feet like my mom. Fat feet runs on her side of the family. Even if they’re not great for cute shoes, I like having them. Feels like a part of my mom lives on with me.”
I think to ask about her mom, but decide against it. Sydney’s in a good mood and I don’t know if talking about her mom will bring her down. Once she returns with the drinks and a bag of chips, I realize what I need to ask. I also know I’m walking into trouble.
“In prison, life doesn’t work the same way. Days are all the same and the outside world seems distant. I still can’t believe I was gone for six years. I pass a place I used to eat at and now it’s something else. I see people I used to know and they’re strangers. The Grove makes me feel those missing six years.”
Sydney says nothing, but watches me with her big eyes. She has no idea where my words are leading.
“I wasted six years on bullshit. I know I did, but I didn’t feel it while in prison. In the Grove, the loss eats me up. Here with you in this trailer, it’s different though. I’m different, I guess.”
Sydney still doesn’t understand and thinks I’m simply complimenting her.
“I don’t like staying at my brother’s place and I don’t want to put down roots anywhere until I know I want to stick around in the Grove. Hell, I might just drive off one day and never look back. Or maybe there’s nowhere else for me. I just don’t know, but I do know Cal’s place makes me feel like shit. You have no idea what I’m asking, do you?”
Sydney shakes her head. I’m a club guy and I feel her wariness at what I might want from her.
“I like it here with you and I want to hang out here until I know what to do with myself. I can pay rent too. If I’m here, the other guys won’t come around. It wouldn’t be just me getting something out of this arrangement.”
“You want to move in?”
“I’ve technically already moved in. All my shit is in the storage of my Harley.”
Sydney glanced around then back at me. “Okay.”
“Just like that? You do have a choice.”
“I like having you here and I like not having the other guys around. I also want you to find where you belong and I don’t think it’s on your brother’s couch. If you rush into something, the club will be calling the shots. This way, you can be sure what you want.”
Worried about her easy acceptance of my plan, I add, “You get how I can’t fall for a club whore. No offense, but I’m not that guy.”
Sydney frowns. “If I wanted you to fall for me, you’d have no say in the matter. My powers of persuasion would be too powerful. Since I’m not looking to hook up with a club guy, you’re safe.”
“Good to hear,” I say, leaning against the headboard next to her. We sit quietly for a few minutes then I ask what I’ve been wondering for two days. “How did you become a club whore?”
Sydney finishes chewing a chip then wipes her mouth. “My dad got lung cancer.”
“And you fuck the club to pay for his treatment?”
“No and I feel like you’re going to be a dick if I tell you.”
“Syd,” I say softly like we’re old friends, “honesty is an important quality between roomies. Now share.”
Rolling her eyes, she leans her cheek against my arm. “Will you help with the dishes, roomie?”
“Sure, why the fuck not?”
Sydney laughs, but I know she’s nervous about telling me the story. Whatever happened to lead her to this life, someone will look bad and I’m guessing it’s Daddy.
“I told you everyone in my family has an addiction. Well, my dad’s addicted to gambling. He loves the horses, but his real weakness is poker. He’s pretty good too, but like all addicts, he doesn’t stop when he’s up. He keeps pushing his luck until he’s lost it all.”
Sydney scoots over and turns so she’s facing me. “When he found out he had lung cancer, it looked like a death sentence. All those years after Mom died, he kept his gambling in check. He would only take a small amount of money to the casinos, so he couldn’t overdo it. Once the money was gone, he was done. With death pretty certain, he decided to go out big by giving into his addiction.”
Romeo joins us on the bed and Sydney sits him in her lap as if for protection from my impending judgment.
“He borrowed fifty grand from the club. Back then, Dad had a decent job as an electrician. They must have figured he was solid to pay them back. What he planned was to blow thirty grand at the casino and give me twenty grand to run with after he died. He thought the club might expect me to pay his debt, so I was supposed to leave the Grove with the money and start over.”
“Except he didn’t die,” I say when she doesn’t continue.
“He pulled through the surgery and treatment, but it left him unable to work. Suddenly, he was in debt to the club and I couldn’t run. Dad was too weak to travel. He has a support system here. Decent doctors plus he spends a lot of time at the civic center with others on disability. This is his home, but the club wanted to get paid.”
When Sydney stares at me, I see so much pain in her eyes that it infects me.
“I gave them the twenty grand, but they realized Dad never planned on paying them back. Or maybe they’re just fucking assholes. They wanted all of the money before he died. We didn’t have it, of course.”
“So you offered yourself or did Daddy sell you out?” I mutter, angry when I think of Sydney facing one club guy after another.
Tears fill her eyes almost instantly. “They beat him up,” she s
ays, choking out the words. “He was so sick from chemo and still healing from surgery, but they broke his legs. Snake said if he wanted to play the cripple card then he needed to play the role better. What could I do? He’s my dad and the only family I have left.”
“Did he ever mess with you?”
Sydney doesn’t understand at first. When my words hit her, she shakes her head wildly.
“He’s a good man. I know he might sound like a loser or a bad man because of the gambling and messing with the club. He’s not though. He’s a good father. Hell, he never even spanked me growing up.”
“You can see why I’d think you offering yourself up to be a whore might be a sign of something.”
“I only slept with one guy before the club and we only did it twice. I’m a club whore, not a whore.”
“You think there’s a difference?”
“I view fucking those guys as nothing more than a job,” she says, throwing her hand up to keep me from speaking. “Life isn’t all happy shit. You know that. Some people are selfish and they sell out others. I could have ditched Dad and left him to die, but the rest of my life would have been destroyed by the guilt. I decided to take on his debt, so Dad and I could spend his last months or years together. You can think that makes me a whore or messed up. You’re not the one living with the consequences, so suck on shit.”
Grinning, I caress her cheek where a tear dampens the soft skin. “I went to prison to make an asshole and his shitty daughter happy. And my stupid decision kept a psycho on the streets. I probably shouldn’t judge your crappy decision-making skills.”
“No, you shouldn’t.”
“We’re both idiots.”
“You’re dumber,” she says then realizes maybe I’m not a guy she can tease.
“But I’m pretty enough to get away with it.”
Sydney’s eyes light up and she snuggles closer. “So fucking pretty,” she says, licking her lips.
“No stopping it now.”
“Like I said,” she whispers, straddling me and yanking off her shirt, “when I use my powers of persuasion, you can only hold on and try to keep up.”
Grinning, I kiss her and keep kissing her for the next hour. On my third day out of prison, I have a new home and the hottest roommate in history.
Chapter Eight
Bo
No Knight in Shining Armor
I arrive at the trailer after a long day of playing Johnny’s assistant. I pick him up breakfast then lunch. I get his car washed too. Mostly, I sit at the Gut Shot and listen to shitty country music.
Once I turn off my Harley, I hear crappy country music again. At least, Sydney listens to the classics.
“Up here,” Sydney says from the roof of the trailer. “Enjoying the pretty day. Wanna come up?”
With her dark hair framing her face, she’s like a vixen luring me to my doom. I can’t wait to sell my soul.
I climb up the rickety ladder and crawl to where she’s lounging on a Snoopy beach towel. Romeo is nearby, looking asleep except for his tail tapping rhythmically.
“Fuck,” I say, seeing Sydney in a bikini top and cut off shorts. “I love those tits.”
“They’re pretty damn fond of you too, big guy.”
Smiling, I kiss her hard and lean her back on the towel. When I take a breath, I sigh at the feel of her nails against my scalp.
“I’ll fuck you right here,” I murmur, sucking at her throat.
“No way. It’ll end up on the internet and my elderly neighbor will see it. She’s really into porn.”
Laughing against her shoulder, I decide my cock will have to wait for relief.
“You come up here a lot?”
Sydney rolls on her side and slides her hand up my shirt. “School doesn’t get out for a few hours. It’s too early for the drunks to get rowdy. Nice and quiet.” Grazing my nipple, she grins. “What were you like before you went to prison?”
“A fucking sap,” I say, pulling her thigh over mine. “What were you like before you became a club whore?”
Sydney studies me. “Do you ever look at me without thinking whore?”
“Do you ever look at me without thinking club guy you have to fuck?”
Tweaking my nipple, she rolls on her back and sighs. “I never think of you as a club guy. You’re one of them in name only.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” I say rolling onto my back too.
“Were you nice before?”
“I was young.”
Sydney says nothing and I decide to answer her. “I was idealistic, I guess. I had this idea about the club and what my life would be like. My mom hooked up with Snake when I was ten. He always seemed larger than life and the guys he hung with were scary in a cool way. I saw their lives like a kid sees the life of a solider. A kid doesn’t think about carrying around fifty pound packs or eating shitty food. They imagine shooting bad guys and playing hero. I figured the club life would be riding Harleys and fucking hot girls and kicking ass on the weekends. It was all dumb shit. Of course, I was a dumb shit, so it sounded good.”
Sydney remains silent while the cat sits up and stares as if hunting something. By the time it curls up again, I realize Sydney is crying.
“What?” I ask, thinking she’s going to give me shit.
Sitting up, Sydney wipes her eyes. “It’s just sad.”
“What is?”
“I think about you back then and how you tried to do this good thing for the club. How young you were and how they fucked you over. Six years is a long damn time to lose. You also lost the old you. It just makes me sad.”
I sit up without knowing how to fix her tears. Sydney has a way of making me powerful and weak at the same time. Right then, she has me feeling dumb.
“It’s fine. I thought I was the great hero, but I was a schmuck. No reason to cry.”
Sydney stares at me with wet eyes. “I tell myself I’m going to do all these things once I pay off the debt to the club, but I’ll never pay off the debt. It’s not like they’re keeping score. This many fucks will pay off this much money. They’ll just use me up until I’m old and worn down. Until I’m no good for even last choice fucking then they’ll throw me aside. Or maybe they’ll make me do something else for them. I’ll never really be free. Even if they let me go, I’ll be ruined. My youth will have been wasted spreading my legs for a bunch of losers.”
I should comfort Sydney, but seeing her look so sad makes me want to kill someone. She’s still young and beautiful, but the club will use her up until no decent man will want her. Sydney’s a bright light in a town full of dullness, but her light is slowly going out.
“You could run,” I suggest, staring out at the sound of a barking dog. “Take off and don’t look back.”
“My dad can’t travel. He has doctors here.”
“Fuck him.”
Sydney looks at me with such intense rage that I laugh. I swear she’s about to slug me.
“He’s old and had his life. Now, it’s your time,” I say, laughing because she’s still glaring at me. “You’re making me hard with that look on your face.”
“Fuck off, asshole.”
“You love your dad. I get it. If he loved you though, he’d want you to run.”
“He does want me to run, asshole.”
“Remember when we were goofing around in bed,” I tease when she keeps calling me asshole.
“Stop,” she grunts, kicking at me.
Tugging her against me, I whisper in her ear, “You’re too good to be ruined by those freaks. Run, Sydney.”
The look she gives me kills my smile. It’s as if she’s thrown on a mask and I’m looking at a stranger. I don’t know what the hell is happening, but I sense she’s lying to me. Or hiding something. Whatever the reason behind that look, I’m uneasy now.
“Why don’t you run?” she asks, resting her head on my arm.
“Where the fuck would I go?”
“Who cares? Just go.”
“Won’t you miss
me?” I ask, still uneasy even if the weird look is replaced by her normal easy smile.
“I’ll miss the orgasms for sure.”
Grinning, I kiss her quick then glance around like maybe someone is listening.
“I have somewhere I could go, but I don’t want those pretty lips of yours to blab.”
“Is it somewhere sexy?” she asks, rolling on top of me. “You could be a male stripper in Vegas. I bet you could make a lot of money from lonely women who like a little scruff on their eye candy.”
I want to laugh, but her thigh is rubbing between my legs. If Sydney plans to con me into blabbing all my secrets, I don’t think I can tell her no. Her eyes are bright as she looks down at me.
“I would miss you, Bo. Not just the orgasms either.”
“Are you falling for me?” I ask, brushing her hair aside so I stroke her nipples through the bikini. “I hope you don’t think I’m your knight in shining armor.”
The sound of her laughter pisses me off. She also crawls away to the end of the trailer and pets the cat. Resenting her laughter, I want to flip her off and leave. She’s mocking me, but she’s also beautiful. Plus, moments earlier, she mourned my lost youth. I guess I can give her giggles some slack.
“I want to go inside,” I say, heading for the ladder. “I want inside something else too.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, glancing at me over her shoulder. “I just can’t tell my knight no.”
Chapter Nine
Bo
Hot Dogs Make an Occasion Special
Sydney and her dad have the same smile, but I don’t want to like him. He’s the reason she lives in a shitty trailer and fucks the whole club. This is the guy ruining her life, but when he smiles, I have trouble hating him. His smile is like the one I’ve grown to need.
Mike is winded by the time he gets the BBQ heated up. I know he has something wrong with his lungs, but that word he used sounds like gibberish. All I understand is that he needs oxygen treatments and keeps a little tank nearby for when he can’t catch his breath.