“You can’t have it both ways.” Tears glistened from Fee’s eyes and she glared between him and Stretch. “You talk about stuff being bitch shit. My dating life definitely falls under that category. Bitch shit isn’t your forte. It’s Meggie’s. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get home.”
Without another word, she stomped past them and headed to her car. Stretch didn’t even try to hide his anger any longer. Whatever had happened between the three of them had been fucked up and traumatic. He’d have to trust that Megan had this, and that it was completely over.
Fee had a way of involving herself with fucking assholes. If this Noah motherfucker was a real motherfucker, like it seemed, the way he’d fucking hurt Fee didn’t sit well with Christopher.
“Find out where the fuck my sister goin’, Stretch,” he ordered.
“You need me to follow her?”
“Yeah, and if this motherfucker ain’t right for her, bring him in.”
Noah fucking Carson. The motherfucker Fee met while she was on a date with Stretch and Cash. Not only had she ruined their relationship but she now betrayed them with a motherfucker Stretch had taken an immediate dislike to.
How fucking dare she!
Furious at Fee’s deceit and hating her a little more because he missed her so much, Stretch hung in his room long enough for Outlaw to clear the premises. He didn’t want to run into the man with a full hour passing. Stretch hadn’t been looking for motherfucking Noah Carson. He’d been in his room fuming and watching until Outlaw left.
The moment he did, Stretch headed to his bike. Destination: Cash.
He wasn’t sure why he wanted to tell Cash who Fee had a date with. Yesterday afternoon, Cash had returned from wherever the hell he’d been, without explanation…Fuck. When had Cash ever explained anything to Stretch?
He should call him. On the other hand, Cash would see Stretch’s number and send the call to voicemail and Stretch had to clear his jealous rage away. The open road was cathartic for him. If he’d never been able to ride again, he might’ve lost his mind.
Seeing Cash’s bike in the driveway of his house as Stretch arrived at the house gave him pause. He turned in behind Cash’s motorcycle.
They’d ended on bad terms, unlike any of their other breakups before. Further, Cash had been determined to keep their relationship a secret, so he wouldn’t care that she had involved herself with another motherfucker. That motherfucker especially.
Stretch couldn’t put his finger on what he so disliked about Noah.
Cash’s door opened, and he stepped outside in all his shirtless glory.
“You ringing the doorbell or what, Woo Woo?” He drank from a bottle of bourbon and narrowed his eyes. “Your cycle’s not exactly quiet.”
“Stop calling me fucking Woo Woo,” Stretch growled, deciding to take the argument inside. He might’ve been paranoid but he felt as if eyes and ears were everywhere. Leaning on his cane, he stomped ahead of Cash and into the house. “I’m tired of fucking telling you that.”
“Then stop saying it because I don’t intend to stop calling you that.”
Without waiting for an invitation, Stretch went to the living room and sat on the sofa. The same one he’d sat on when Fee had given him the choice. At the time, he’d mistaken it for power and respect.
“What are you doing here?” Cash asked, sitting in his favorite chair.
The usual line of beer bottles was missing from the table. Cash had moved to harder stuff.
“Fee is dating again.”
A look too fleeting to identify and too intense to ignore crossed Cash’s face. “And?” he rasped after a moment. “She’s a woman. She has needs.”
That’s the part that was killing Stretch. Her needs being met by someone else. “Don’t you give a fuck?”
That look reappeared and disappeared like a flash of lightning. He shrugged. “Does it matter if I do? Does it matter if you do? She made the fucking choice to walk away.”
Wrong. “She made the choice to end the three of us. You made the choice to end you and I.” Pain and bitterness welled within him. “Because of her.”
Cash drank again. “Tell me this, Stretch. If you see you and I being happy without her, then I’m willing to go forward with you this moment.”
Stretch heart sped up at Cash’s words, his future suddenly not so bleak. Cash would be in his arms again. In his bed. He’d never gotten out of his head and heart. Knowing that Cash was willing to reconcile made Stretch giddy.
Fee’s image rose in his head and intruded on his happiness. The time they’d spent together in Kansas City, and her consideration of him from the moment she’d decided not to compete for Cash, sent aching despair tumbling through him.
Goddamn her. His relationship with Cash had been conducted in secret out of necessity. Different from keeping it from Outlaw, but just as dangerous if discovered. Why the fuck couldn’t she be satisfied with what they shared?
“You can’t, can you?” Cash asked softly, without a hint of arrogance. Just sadness. “Somewhere along the way we fell in love with her.”
“I love you,” Stretch admitted, then cringed, waiting for Cash’s retort.
He leaned his head back on the chair. “I love you, too, babe,” he said, fatigue curling around the words. “It took this fuck-up for me to admit it to myself. I can’t talk for you or how you feel about her, but I love her, too. I want what she wants. What you want. But I don’t want it the way you two do. Can you understand that?”
He’d be a cold motherfucker not to. He nodded.
Fee had gotten under Cash’s skin in a way no one else ever had. At one time, that would’ve affected Stretch in a negative way, but he even understood that. She’d gotten under his skin, too. Accepting him for who he was, as she had, made him feel a little less worthless.
“Tell me what to do.”
“I don’t know what to say, Cash.” If he had answers, he wouldn’t feel so miserable.
“I once told Fee that the three of us didn’t have to fuck together all the time. As badly as I want to take you into my arms right now and kiss you senseless, it doesn’t feel right.”
Once again, Stretch understood. The fabric of their relationship had been ripped apart.
“Where do we go from here?” Cash asked, rubbing his head, his eyes bloodshot. “Can we still be friends?”
“Friends with rules,” Stretch said.
At Cash’s grin, Stretch turned his head so he wouldn’t reveal how the sight of his lips affected him. “Rules are boring. Benefits are better.”
“Rules are no flaunting other men and women around me. The same goes for me with you.” As if he intended to touch anyone else anytime soon. “No discussing our former relationship. Can we do that?”
Cash finished the bottle and sat it on the table. “Yes.”
After a moment of silence, Stretch stood. He was happy he’d come. The visit had been needed and he felt somewhat better. However, he’d have to go it alone to watch Fee with Noah fucking Carson.
“I’m heading out, friend.”
Cash got to his feet, too, and blocked Stretch’s path. Caressing the curve of his jaw, he threaded his fingers through Stretch’s hair, sending tingles down his spine and making his balls ache. He pressed his lips to his.
Never able to resist Cash, Stretch opened his mouth, tangled his tongue with Cash’s, tasting the bourbon. The scent of Cash heated Stretch’s blood, and he groaned, rubbing his hard cock against Cash’s and losing himself to the kiss.
Cash pulled away, stepping back.
Stretch had mistaken the contact for passion, when it had been farewell, a final, intimate moment for two lovers who’d try to be friends. All the many years Stretch wanted reassurance that Cash loved him. He knew it now. He saw it in the softness of Cash’s eyes, the pliability of his mouth, the ceding of control, if only for a moment.
Classic Cash. Everything had to be on his terms.
Shaking his head, Stretch laughed, amused b
y the irony.
Cash walked to the cabinet across the room and grabbed another bottle of bourbon. “Don’t leave until you tell me about the new motherfucker in Fee’s life.”
Just like that, the moment fled.
Stretch didn’t mind. Discussing Fee had been the reason for the visit. You sure about that? Ignoring that question, he returned to the sofa. “She’s dating Noah.” Saying the words left a bad taste in his mouth. He was sure he’d feel that way about any motherfucker.
“What the fuck do you mean? Noah. That prick from the club?”
“Yes. Outlaw wants me to find out about him. Apparently, he’s already made her cry.”
“That motherfucker made her cry?”
“Outlaw wasn’t too happy either.”
“He sent you to scope out the bar.”
“I didn’t tell him I knew Noah. I was so fucking angry, I would’ve blown my cover immediately. He would’ve guessed I had some type of relationship with her.”
Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, Cash sat, opened the new bottle and drank. “What do you plan on doing?”
What could he do? He’d have to couch the truth in lies to let Outlaw know he’d already met Noah. Otherwise, he’d have to tell him who he’d been with that night. Or he could surveil Fee as best he could and at a distance. In all fairness, Noah seemed pretty decent.
“I’m going to find out what I can and then report to Outlaw.”
“Then we’ll decide if he lives or dies. If he makes her cry again, he dies.”
Sounded like a plan to Stretch, so he nodded and proceeded to map out a plan.
Fee sat on the second floor hallway bench, at Christopher’s house, staring at the family photos hanging on the walls. Scattered toys littered the floor. Down the hall, music wafted from the opened door of Diesel’s room. The lemony scent reminded Fee of how fresh and clean her mother’s house had always smelled, though Patricia had favored cinnamon.
Swallowing, Fee peeked at a photo of her mother again, this one centered amongst pictures of Patricia’s kids and grandchildren—including the six she hadn’t met.
Every now and then, bursts of laughter from the Mother’s Day celebration Fee had planned reached her over Diesel’s music, and added to her grief. She missed her mom so very much. In the days and weeks after Patricia’s death, she’d turned her grief inward, wanting to help Zoann, who’d been pregnant with Ryan at the time. Not only had Zoann lost their mother, but she and Val had separated. Her sister had been all alone. She’d even given birth to Ryan, on her own, at her house.
Val had been God knows where, and Fee had been getting beat up by her boyfriend. When Zoann hung up on her, after announcing she’d delivered her son, Fee had been shocked into action. She’d wiped off her nose, went over her excuses for why her face was so bruised, and hurried to the hospital.
One look at Ryan and she’d fallen in love. She and Zoann had cried together. Fee had never known why her big sister cried. Perhaps, she’d been overwhelmed by the birth and the emotions of finally meeting her son. Maybe, like Fee, she’d been thinking of their mother, wishing Patricia was there.
It might’ve been a combination of things. Fee didn’t know and had never asked.
Once Zoann recovered, she’d become both older sister and mother figure to Fee, despite only four years separating them. Nia had been closer in age to Fee, but Nia preferred the company of their other two sisters. In their household, it always seemed to be an ‘us’ and a ‘them’. Just like Daphne had talked about with the women in the club. With her sisters, the dividing line had been their big brother. Those for Christopher—Fee and Zoann—and those against him—Nia, Avery and Bev. Even when anger had blinded her and Zoann to the essence of Christopher, Fee had never stopped loving him.
Somehow, their mother had played referee and found a way to appease all her girls. Before Meggie, everyone thought Christopher’s feelings were expendable.
Fee. Zoann. Momma. Everyone. In Fee’s defense, her brother always seemed as if he had everything together and needed no one. In reality, he’d closed himself off to people, not wanting to be hurt.
Sometimes, Fee wanted to do the same. Then, she wouldn’t feel so lost and alone. So heartbroken at all her many losses and betrayals.
Diesel’s music stopped and the door swung open. Fee swiped at an escaping tear and straightened, plastering a bright smile on her face as the boy headed toward her.
His brows snapped together. “Fee?”
“Hey, I was up here jamming to your music. You have eclectic tastes.” He’d played Unsteady by the X Ambassadors one moment, then switched to Prince’s Purple Rain in the next.
“Yeah? You like the songs I played?”
She nodded, cursing another errant tear slipping down her cheeks. Frowning, he sat next to her, crowding her in.
“Are you okay?”
“Perfect,” she answered with a brightness she didn’t feel.
He thumbed a tear away, his familiarity surprising her. His gesture reeked of intimacy. She had to be insane. He wasn’t even seventeen yet.
“Why are you crying?”
“Just emotional,” she admitted. In the months he’d been living with Christopher and Meggie, Diesel was always sweet. Life had matured him faster than normal, but he too tried to be more grown up than necessary. “It’s Mother’s Day today and I’m thinking about my mom. I miss her so much.”
“I miss my mom, too. Sometimes, I hate her. She just left me and my dad. Honestly, I don’t remember much about her. But she left me. Who does that to their own kid?”
Fee grabbed Diesel’s hand. “It’s hard to understand now. You’re still young, but she had her reasons. No mother would leave their child just because.” She wanted to make the boy feel better and didn’t balk when he laid his head on her shoulder.
“I wonder if she’s still alive.”
“Ask Christopher to search for her.”
“I don’t want him to think I’m ungrateful. I’m always afraid he’ll make me leave. Abandon me like my mom and dad.”
“Christopher thinks of you as one of his sons, Diesel,” Fee reassured him. “Besides, Meggie adores you, and she’s the boss of the house.”
Lifting his head, Diesel grinned, his eyes twinkling. “For such an itty bitty thing, she knows how to put the fear of God into me and Outlaw.”
As if her emotions weren’t overwhelming enough, hearing those words reminded Fee of what Kendall had said about Meggie holding her brother so high up on a pedestal.
“They’re happy, right? Christopher’s happy?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Inner darkness was making her miserable today. “Never mind. That’s a stupid question.”
“No, it isn’t. Nothing you say is stupid.”
Staring at her, he tucked some of her hair behind her ears.
Oh, no. Laughing nervously, Fee smoothed her hands over her thighs, revealed in her cutoff shorts. She cleared her throat. “How’s your girlfriend?”
“We broke up, but I don’t want to talk about her. I want to talk about us.”
“Diesel—”
“Fee, please listen to me?” he implored, his earnest look making Fee do as he asked. He smiled and turned to her, grabbing both her hands. “I’m young, but I’ve watched you since I’ve been here. I love you so much. I’ve saved all my money to buy you the best engagement ring in the world, if you’ll have me. Whatever you want, I’ll work my ass off to give to you. We don’t have to tell anyone if you accept, not until I’m eighteen. You’re beautiful and you’re kind and you’re smart. You always smell so good. You’re everything.” He drew in a deep breath, as if he needed to shore up more courage to continue.
Fee didn’t intend to interrupt, shocked into speechlessness by the intensity of his declaration and the suddenness of it. Diesel’s intentions came out of nowhere.
“More than anything, you’re like me. All alone. We’ll understand each other and the sadness inside of us.” Sliding to the floor, Diesel got o
n one knee. “Ophelia Donovan, will you do me the pleasure of marrying me? I promise to always put you first, to work to buy you whatever you want, and to do whatever I must to make you the happiest woman alive.”
Fee searched her mind for a way to gently refuse him. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, not after his speech that grown men could take notes from. Leaning forward, she placed a light kiss on his lips.
“Diesel, you’re so sweet. You’re going to make some woman very happy, but you’re not finished growing up. Living life. You don’t want to be saddled with a wife at eighteen.”
“But I love you.”
“You don’t know me,” she countered. “Not well enough to say you love me.” She nodded to the spot next to her. “Sit.”
Head bowed, he followed her instructions. “I slept with Daphne and she didn’t care how old I was.”
Daphne had spread herself quite thin, Fee thought without charity, irritated at Diesel’s announcement. It wasn’t her place to pass her opinion on that, so she’d stick to the matter at hand. “It was just sex. You’re talking a lifetime commitment. Worrying about a wife might dampen whatever plans you have.”
“I want to patch into the club. Outlaw said I could if I go to college first.”
“Do you want to go to college knowing you have to stay faithful to a wife?”
By the look on his face, Diesel hadn’t thought of that.
“I hear you’re good at football. If you play at the college level, athletes are popular. You’ll be invited to all types of parties. I’m the jealous type.” True, but not to the extent she intended to make him believe. “I couldn’t stand the thought of my husband allowing a bunch of other girls to fawn over him.”
“Sorority girls, too?”
“Huh?”
“Would sorority girls fawn over me?”
“Oh. Yeah, I suppose.” She bumped his shoulder. “You have a thing for them?”
“There’s porn featuring co-eds. On these clips, the pledgees have to eat pussy. Sometimes, each other’s. Sometimes, it’s the sisters already pledged.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 337