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Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2)

Page 20

by Hayley Faiman


  Bates doesn’t want me.

  So what?

  Even if my heart and body want him, it doesn’t matter. I’ve marked my body with his name, I gave all of me to him. All of his talk was nothing but bullshit. Something major happens and he runs instead of talking to me, instead of dealing with it together.

  I don’t understand him.

  Fuck Scotty and fuck Bates.

  I dress in a pair of cut off shorts and a loose oversized t-shirt. I have to tuck it in in the front so that it doesn’t look like I’m going pantless. I glance in the mirror and cringe at my face. I look pretty beat up. Not the worst I’ve been, but certainly not the best. I gather my makeup and begin to apply it. I know how to minimize bruises with contouring and layering. I’ve studied at length how to look flawless. Hopefully this is the last time I ever have to use this knowledge I have.

  “Hey, pretty girl,” Paxton says as I walk into the kitchen.

  He’s sitting at the table, shoveling scrambled eggs and toast into his mouth. Stella mimics him, doing the same. She turns to me and gives me her huge bright smile. I know in this moment, no matter what happens in my love life, she’s what’s most important—her and her happiness.

  “Hey,” I say shyly.

  I take a plate and load it with eggs and toast before I join Paxton and Stella at the table. It should feel awkward and uncomfortable, eating breakfast with another man, but it doesn’t. It feels friendly, like eating breakfast with Fury.

  Paxton is hot, but he doesn’t make me hot. Only one man can do that. But Paxton is comfortable, and there is something to be said about comfort. Don’t we always love our most comforting clothes, or our food? Paxton is like Mac & Cheese, comfy and warm.

  “What are you planning for the day?” he asks.

  “Nothing,” I murmur.

  “You’re free now, babe. No reason to hide out. Go and do whatever you want.” He winks. I suck in a breath. He’s right. I’m not stuck. I’m completely free to go about my own business.

  “What’ll happen to his house and all his things?” I murmur.

  “You want anything from there?” he asks, his eyes darkening.

  “No, just curious,” I shrug, taking a sip from my orange juice.

  “When his body’s found, they’ll probably, eventually, contact you. It could all be yours, but his parents will probably fight it because you guys were in the middle of a divorce,” he shrugs.

  “Makes sense,” I say.

  “So you didn’t answer my question. What are you planning today?” he asks, smirking at me before he winks.

  “No clue,” I say.

  “Spend it with me and Stella,” he suggests. I look down to Stella who is looking at us with confusion. “At the BBQ. Did you forget?” he asks chuckling.

  “I shouldn’t go there,” I mutter. Paxton lifts his hand and cups my uninjured cheek.

  “You should. That’s your family. Fury, Kentlee, Bear, Ellie and all us brothers, we’re your family, babe. Have a few beers, eat some good food, and just relax,” he says. I give him a shaky smile.

  “Okay,” I agree with a nod.

  “I’ll take you two, but we gotta leave soon so I can get changed into some clean clothes before the party,” he says.

  I spend the next thirty minutes getting Stella and myself ready while Paxton watches television on the couch. I change my top, leaving my short cut-offs on, since it’s warm outside. I put on a loose fitting, flowing tank top. I style my hair in a simple side braid and slide a pair of converse on my feet. I touch up my makeup and hope that it holds in the heat.

  I dress Stella in a cute little girl maxi dress, putting her blonde curls in pigtails and giggle at how adorable she is. I take her hand and guide her to the living room, where Paxton is focused on the television. He turns to us and smiles widely.

  “Prettiest girls I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on,” he says dramatically. I roll my eyes.

  “You’re cheesy,” I grumble. He chuckles as he wraps his hand around my waist.

  “I am. But you are pretty,” he says softly.

  “Pax…”

  “Don’t. I know,” he says, dropping his hand from my waist and stalking out the door. With a heavy sigh, I follow him.

  “Where Bates?” Stella asks a few minutes later as we wait outside of Paxton’s apartment while he changes.

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “He is… away,” I lie.

  “Miss him,” she murmurs. She hasn’t mentioned her actual father once, yet she misses Bates after just over a week.

  “Me too,” I whisper as I watch Paxton descend the staircase of his apartment complex.

  We drive in silence to the party. I’m nervous, and my stomach is in knots. Bates is going to be there and it’s going to hurt to see him. Just yesterday, I was his woman, and he’s walked away from me.

  Could I forgive him if he asked for it? I probably would, without question.

  I’d throw myself at him because I love him, and I’m committed to him. Committed to make it work, at whatever the cost. I’ve seen him kill, and yet I still love him and still want him. Nothing could make me love him less, nothing but his betrayal of me or Stella.

  Betrayal I’m not sure he hasn’t already committed. I knew it was too soon to get into this with Bates. I should have listened to my heart and not let my body rule my decisions. Here I am dependent on him, waiting for him to tell me what’s going to happen next.

  I feel a warmth squeeze my hand, and I look down and then over to Paxton. He’s comforting me. He’s so fucking sweet, I don’t deserve him. Not when I know we’d never be anything more than bed partners, if that.

  “You should just leave me alone, Paxton. I’m a mess,” I whisper.

  “Yeah, know that. You’re a gorgeous mess, though. Also, I’m a big boy, I can handle being fucked around a little,” he chuckles before he gets out of the car and shuts the door behind him. I try not to think about his words. I need to ignore them—ignore him.

  Stella and I climb out of the pick-up and quickly walk over to a waiting Paxton. He’s got a grin on his face as he takes Stella’s offered hand. She may not know what’s happening, but I like the fact that she’s comfortable around Paxton. Regardless of what goes down in my personal life, I know that Paxton’s a good man, always has been.

  When Kentlee see’s us walking toward the party as a unit, her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. Then, she’s on me. She’s charging me like a bull. It’s a little frightening, but I know she’s probably just worried and confused. Paxton rests his hand on my back and leans down so that his lips are practically touching my ear.

  “I’ll take Stella to the other kids,” he murmurs.

  “Thanks,” I croak.

  Kentlee reaches me as Paxton straightens. He winks at her and guides Stella ahead of us. I watch as he drops her off with her cousin, Bear, and a bunch of other kids playing on a little playground gym they have set up.

  “Tell me everything,” Kentlee urges.

  I don’t look at her. I can’t. Instead, I keep my eyes on Stella as I replay my horrific evening.

  “That asshole. I’m going to beat the shit out of him. No, I’m going to have Pierce beat the shit out of him,” she cries out. I can’t help myself, I start to laugh.

  “He’s an asshole and I’ll have it out with him, but not today,” I say, shaking my head.

  “It’s really not okay. I’ll stand up for you if you refuse to stand up for yourself,” she says. She then looks into my eyes and I see something akin to pity there. “You can’t be with Paxton, or anybody else, until he announces that you’re available to the club,” she murmurs.

  “What?” I ask in shock.

  “It’s archaic. They’re a bunch of fucking cavemen. But Brent, you aren’t a free woman and you aren’t free to leave him until he cuts you loose,” she whispers.

  “But he can do who and whatever he wants?” I balk. She doesn’t answer. Instead, she shrugs.

&nbs
p; “Let’s just relax. He’s only been stupid for one day so far. He could pull his head out of his ass any second. My man’s head was up his for three years,” she says with a grin. She reaches down into an ice chest and pulls out two bottles of beer.

  “Not that I’m going to go hopping to another one of these guys again, but that rule is insane,” I grumble. She giggles.

  Then, my sister, knowing exactly what I need, begins to introduce me to wives, not clubwhores, wives.

  “You’re one of us, babe, we got your back,” a sweet woman named Rosie says with a wink.

  “Well, for now at least,” I grunt.

  “Forever, hon. You’re Kentlee’s sister. You’ll always have a place, no matter who your man is,” she grins. I shake my head.

  I rub the center of my chest as the women talk, trying to get the aching feeling to leave me. It’s been bothering me all day and I know what it is. It’s my heart. It’s broken. I remember the feeling from ten years before when Bates left me.

  It’s suddenly sinking in, it’s real, he’s not going to wrap his arms around me and tell me he loves me, apologize for being an ass, and take me away into the sunset. I’ve been here for hours and I haven’t seen him once. I just want to go home; I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to crawl into bed and cry. Then, I need to figure my shit out. Figure out what exactly I’m going to do. Obviously, I’ve made another mess. I’ve relied on a man when I shouldn’t have, depended on him, and now I don’t have a place to live—yet again.

  The hours tick by and we all drink a little more. Tammy comes by to collect Stella, Bear, and Ellie. I promise her that I’ll be by to pick Stella up before the end of the night. I don’t plan on partying at all. In fact, I really just want to catch a ride home with the kids.

  “You deserve a night off,” she says, her meaning clear. She knows all.

  “Kentlee fill you in?” I ask. My lips loose from beer.

  “I was worried when you came in last night, looking the way you did. Your gentleman friend filled me in,” she admits. I nod.

  “Thank you, Tammy, so much,” I gush. She just wraps her arms around me in a motherly hug.

  “My husband was a good man, he never treated me the way you’ve been treated. You’re so strong, honey,” she whispers before she turns away, gathering the children without another word. I feel a heat at my back a second later and lean back. I can tell it’s not Bates, but it’s comforting and warm just the same.

  “You okay?” he asks, wrapping his hand around my hip.

  “I will be,” I admit.

  “You will, babe,” he agrees, squeezing my hip. I turn around to face him. I’m so drunk, I sway slightly before I can focus on him.

  “Kentlee said that Bates has to announce my freedom before I can be with another guy,” I announce with a slight slur.

  Paxton chokes on his gulp of beer and coughs a few times before he looks down and focuses on me.

  “He does,” he nods.

  “But he can get blowjobs in the hallway and I have to accept it?” I ask, planting my hand on my hip.

  “Way of our world, babe,” he grunts.

  “Lame,” I huff.

  Paxton laughs before he wraps his arm around my neck, pulling me into his side. It’s not sexual at all, it feels very—brotherly.

  We start to walk over to where Fury and Kent are cuddled together on a now empty picnic table. I turn my head to say something to Pax when my gaze collides with the angry face of Bates. He’s glaring at us, Paxton’s arm thrown over my shoulder, looking cozy—comfortable. Yet, not as comfortable as Star looked on her knees the night before.

  I want to flip him a bird, but instead I turn my head—before I cry again. I’m on the verge of tears just by seeing his face—his gorgeous, angry face.

  At least he doesn’t look indifferent today.

  Sniper

  I close my eyes and try to tamp down my anger. I shouldn’t give a fuck; I shouldn’t care that Torch is touching what’s mine, but that bitch has my name stamped on her. She’s branded as mine. I take a drink from the bottle of Jack that dangles from my fingers.

  “Hey, baby,” Star rasps next to me.

  Her cool fingers wrap around my forearm, and as much as I want to fling her off of me, I can’t. Not now that I’m staring at my woman—my woman who has another man wrapped around her.

  I grunt at the bitch, unable to form words. I’m so fuckin’ drunk, having her next to me is kind of a relief. At least her fake tits’ll help break my fall—help me bounce a little instead of landing on the hard as fuck ground. I chuckle as I imagine it in my head. She’d scream like a banshee.

  “All the kids are gone. How about we have some fun?” she purrs. It isn’t sexy. It doesn’t make me hard. Although, I don’t think much could at this point. I’ve been drinking non-stop since I woke up this morning.

  “Why don’t you do what you do best? Be a fuckin’ star,” I suggest. She giggles, and it’s grating on my ears, like nails scratching a chalkboard.

  I find an empty chair and plop my ass down. I have a great view of whatever Star plans; but more importantly, I can see every single move Torch and Brentlee make right in front of me. My brother. What a fuckin’ joke. He’s nothing but a backstabber. A traitor, ready to move in as soon as he can—before my side of the bed is even cold. Fucktard.

  I look over Star’s shoulder as she dances seductively in front of me. She’s recruited another whore, and they’re grinding on each other. Something that should be sexy as fuck, but leaves me cold and my dick limp. No, my focus is on anger, and it’s directed at a slut and a backstabbing asshole.

  I hear her laugh reach my ears and it makes my dick twitch. Then Torch’s hand slides down to her hip; he’s not touching her skin, but he’s touching the place my tattoo is stamped on her.

  My Sniper brand.

  I finally completely lose my shit. I stand and stagger toward them. Kentlee’s eyes widen and she opens her mouth, but before she can warn Brentlee, I have my hand wrapped around her bicep and I turn her around.

  “Bates,” she gasps.

  Paxton takes a step toward me but I glare at him, making him back down. He can’t interject at the way I handle my woman. She is still that, too. Until I say otherwise, she’s fuckin’ mine.

  “You like his hands on you?” I ask squeezing her arm.

  I’m probably handling her too roughly, because I’m so drunk I can’t tell my own strength. She doesn’t speak, her lips clamped tightly and her eyes full of fire. Fuck, my cock goes hard at the sight.

  I grab her loose-fitting shirt and wrench it up, exposing her stomach and her tits. I can hear that conversation has ceased around us, everybody is watching and waiting for the drama to unfold. I’ve been a ticking time bomb since I shot her good for nothing ex-asshole in the back of his head.

  “Everybody take a fucking look. This is my name, right here. This bitch is mine. This other one,” I yank her body around to expose her Bates ink. “Is my legal name. She’s mine. My Old Lady, my woman. Any brother thinks he can touch what’s mine has another thing coming.”

  “Snipe,” Vault murmurs from behind me.

  I spin around to see his sweet wife Rosie wrapped in his arms. She’s looking at me with concern, but Vault is looking at me with disgust. I don’t give a fuck. They can shove it up their asses.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I bark. “This cunt is mine until I say otherwise. Any brother thinks about getting his dick wet in my snatch will have to deal with me; and trust me, you won’t be leaving the fight walking,” I slur staring at Torch.

  “That’s enough,” Fury announces.

  It’s only then that my eyes leave Torch’s and I see that LeeLee is crying. When I look down at Brentlee, she’s crying as well, her fingers covering her lips and her body shaking. I push her away from me and she falls to the ground. Nobody makes a move to help her. Her shirt is still askew and one of her bra-clad tits is hanging out, but she’s frozen to her spot, her horrified eyes on
me.

  “You share your cunt with any other man, I’ll slit your throat,” I growl before I turn around and walk away.

  I need to get away before I actually do something instead of just threaten. I walk past Star and she’s looking at me in horror.

  “Still want to ride my cock for life, bitch?” I spew. She shakes her head. Good. I didn’t want her nasty ass anyway. Maybe now she’ll stay away from me.

  I go straight to my room and I drink until I finally pass out.

  Fuck everybody.

  Fuck my life.

  I’m such a piece of shit.

  Brentlee

  Paxton reaches down to help me up, but I bat his hand away. I’d hate to get my throat slit for looking funny at him. Bates is such a fucking asshole. I fix my shirt and look around. Everybody is staring at me, their eyes wide—some concerned, but mostly curious.

  “It isn’t the first time I’ve been threatened with having my throat slit, carry on,” I say, waving my hands around.

  I hear a few chuckles and the music is turned back up. People go about their business and I turn to my sister who is sobbing.

  “Brentlee,” she mutters.

  “I’m fine,” I assure.

  “I’ve never seen him like that before. Never,” she blubbers.

  I’ve never seen Bates like that, but I’ve seen his father like that. Once. I snuck over to try and get Bates to hang out late one Friday night. I hadn’t seen him at school, and I missed him. When I approached their house, there were lights on, so I peeked into the kitchen and I saw his father beating the shit out of his mother. He called her every name in the book, then I watched as Bates tried to interfere. His father knocked him around a little and sent him to his room.

  Then, his mom and dad fucked right there in the kitchen. She had blood and bruises all over her face. I ran away and was sick for days about it. When I tried to talk to Bates about his father, he closed down. He just told me he was a mean drunk and that he couldn’t wait to leave.

 

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