I drove the truck to the end of the highway and saw a girl standing by a rusty car. She was like a cat on a hot tin roof, stood the other side of the barrier, looking like she was going to shit herself. I couldn’t leave her there. I just wasn’t that type of guy. As I pulled over and shouted out of the cab window, she just looked at me blankly, so I hopped out and repeated myself. “I said you’re in luck. Just dropped a motor off. I can take you back to the autoshop and get you sorted.”
“Autoshop?”
“So, what’s wrong with it?”
“Wrong?”
Christ, just my luck—she was either fucking foreign or simple?
“As cute as it that you keep repeating odd words back to me, the chance of us surviving this—” I spun my greasy pointer finger to remind her of where we were “—lessens, the longer we have this little back and forth on a six-lane highway, surrounded by speeding hunks of metal.”
I gave that a minute to settle into the grey matter. “I can’t go with you.” What the fuck was wrong with this chick?
“Have you called a tow already?” My voice made her jump, but when I watched her eyeline constantly look between the flow of traffic and my club cut, I knew she was considering sending me away.
“Don’t even think about it. My boss would string me up if I left a pretty thing like you on the roadside.”
Back then she was beautiful, but her beauty was all innocent, and half of the allure was her shyness.
“Can you take the car to the nearest garage and leave me here?”
“You’re joking, right?” I watched as she clutched her purse and tried to keep her floaty, flowery skirt from riding up. It was a challenge with the gusts of wind caused by the cars zooming past at nearly sixty miles an hour.
“Darlin—” even back then I had game “—road kill or sex slave?” I was a hormone fueled man, learning that women were a prize to be won, teased or ignored. This girl fit into definitely one, maybe two of those categories and I had no intention of ignoring her.
“Excuse me?” she replied, shocked and fearful.
“I ain’t leaving you here. You’ll either end up road kill or some psycho will pick you up and drag you back to his redneck cabin. A sex slave is the new accessory these days.” I was joking with her, but there was no mistaking the fear in her eyes.
“What’s scarier: me, or rather this?” I asked, pointing at my club patch, “or the hillbilly flash forward I just provided?”
A trucker honked the horn of his passing semi, causing her to jump out of her skin, helping prove my point.
“Listen, I promise no funny business. Just gonna hitch up your motor and drive you and it to the autoshop.”
She had about fifteen seconds left to decide before I bundled her into the cab of the tow truck and made it all happen anyway. We were lucky we hadn’t been mowed down already.
“I need to call someone. Do you have a cell I can use?”
She didn’t even have a cell phone with her. “Sensible.” I even offered to give her all my details and made some joke about a torture chamber. She was like a cat on hot bricks and I regretted freaking her out immediately. I knew there was something different about this girl.
I took that as approval to proceed and got on with linking her dead Toyota to my rust bucket tow truck. When I climbed back into the truck, it didn’t take a MENSA candidate to confirm that the call she’d made was not going over well. In fact, she looked positively terrified. All I wanted to do was grab the phone and make whoever was scaring the shit out of her back the fuck off.
That was the beginning of a friendship that should never have taken flight. But my ego-fueled confidence wasn’t taking no for an answer and I was determined to make that girl mine.
No matter who she was connected to.
“That’s like, the fifth ratchet you’ve thrown across the place. Gonna be hard to prove it’s a workplace accident for the insurance if they have to remove it from someone’s head.”
“Where’s Wave? I could do with letting off some steam,” I snapped.
“Sent him on a job. He’ll be gone for a while.”
“Fucking hell!” I threw another ratchet at the floor.
I was under the hood of a classic hot rod and it didn’t matter which tool I used, none of them were working and Wolf had been watching. Anything that came out of my tool cabinet was like an extension of me. I was usually so in tune with what I was doing that I figured I was part robot at times. So far, today, nothing had gone my way and every time a shadow crossed the workshop entrance I expected it to be Angel. The fact that she’d waited this long to come and get up in my business was something unusual as it was.
I stomped over the to the offending ratchet, swiped it off the floor and went back to the hot rod. The shadow that crossed behind me this time was Wolf. “This about the nanny?”
“I was right,” I mumbled, leaning to the back of the engine.
“About?”
“Angel. Love your old lady, but she never could mind her business.”
The sharp words flowed straight out and with Wolf, there were always things that you thought and never said. Most of those things were to do with his wife. Wolf might have been an ex Carnal MC president, but there were still elements of him that were very not ex. The killer in him would always be just under the surface. The need to protect those he loved would always be his first reaction and when I felt the air around me change, I knew I’d just crossed a line.
“I see you’re pissed. Advice, brother—keep your opinions on my wife to yourself.”
Boss or brother came second these days; he would always be her husband and baby daddy first. That in itself pissed me off more. I was jealous as fuck.
“We got a problem?” he asked coldly.
I came up from the engine and put down the useless fucking ratchet.
“No. I don’t.”
“And I do?”
This conversation was deteriorating rapidly and when he folded his arms across his chest, it only confirmed it. The other brothers, sensing things were about to go down, all picked up dirty rags and started to clean their hands. A couple of them took a few steps in our direction and I knew they were preparing to step in if the temperature of our conversation went even further south. If Wave were here, he would have dragged me out already.
“The nanny. Not a smart move. Can’t believe JP let this shit happen.”
“Explain,” Wolf barked. His one-word answers were a big fucking clue that I was pushing my luck.
“She’s trouble. Has trouble swirling around her and you don’t want that shit around your kids.”
“You forget we didn’t have the best start in life, so we recognize real trouble. You gonna tell me what went down, or just be a moody pussy?”
There was no way in hell I was having a heart to fucking heart in the middle of the autoshop. I did that and they’d remove my man card. The only words I would be able to call up would be that Gigi Livingston felt like home and I became her home when hers completely disintegrated. Telling these guys that was not a fucking option. “No.”
He looked at me, waiting to see if I’d change my mind, then shook his head. “Take a personal day and calm the fuck down.” That look of disappointment was a killer.
For the first time ever, I felt like a child being reprimanded. I’d pushed my boss, my fucking friend, to his limits and he was having to dismiss me from class because I couldn’t behave appropriately.
I couldn’t leave it like this. “Just warn Angel, okay? Gigi Livingston isn’t to be trusted.”
“Pyne,” he replied.
“What?”
“Gigi Pyne.”
I felt my world crash when he relayed her name, indicating she’d got married. Whoever her husband was, I instantly felt like finding out everything I could and cementing it in my brain under the category, ‘one day, motherfucker, I am going to kill you’.
The brothers went back on high alert, like they could see the spear that ha
d just pierced a fucking hole through the middle of me.
Saying nothing else—words and thoughts were no longer coherent—I grabbed my cut and bike keys and got the fuck out of there.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gears
This was a bad fucking idea.
On the scale of bad ideas, one being tame and ten being ridiculous, this was around a fifty.
This was a ‘you need your head seeing to’ kind of bad idea.
I left the autoshop and had two options: track down that lying fucking bitch and strangle her or go and get my kicks elsewhere. Both hit pretty high on the stupidity scale but one of them was worse than the other. So, going for the lesser of two evils, I rode straight to Marnie’s house and figured I’d put the evil, heartbreaking bitch out of my mind a different way.
It was mid morning and I had no idea what she did after I stormed away from last night’s party. I was hoping she’d be here. From the way I saw the drape move at the front, I guessed she’d heard my bike pull up.
“What do you want, Gears?”
“You gonna let me in?”
Marnie was already at the open door before I had chance to knock on it.
“You said all you needed to say.”
Not giving her the chance to turn me away, I stepped into her, and with a single finger to her chest, pushed her back through the door aperture and stepped with her as she retreated in reverse gear into the house.
“I’m sorry about last night.”
Marnie stood in front of me in just a cheap satin robe which came to mid-thigh, light peach in color. She’d clearly not been awake long. I could hear the coffee machine dripping somewhere behind us, brewing up. I moved my pointed finger from her chest, between her tits and trailed it lower. The fact that she didn’t resist when I forced my way in and the little hitches I could hear in her breathing as my finger traveled south told me she still wanted me.
“Why are you here?” she stuttered, all breathy.
“You know why.” My finger hit the flimsy material tied around her waist and with very little pressure, it untied and the whole thing floated open, exposing a cock teasing couple of inches of tanned skin.
I saw her swallow before I felt the skin of her torso rise into gooseflesh.
“Gears,” she whispered.
My finger continued its adventure until it hit her panties. They were hot pink and see-through. I’d seen her underwear lots of times, but it wasn’t often in the light of day.
“Lose ‘em.”
She hesitated, putting on a show, but her eyes were fiery and she was turned on. I kept my finger on the edge of the elastic band until she’d pushed them far enough to let them drop down her legs. When they hit her ankles, I let my finger roam lower. As I hit the center of her bare, plump lips, her eyes became hooded and she inched closer, guiding me to carry on.
I finally leant down and kissed her. Like Marnie always did, she pushed her tongue into my mouth first. As we kissed, I found her little nub of hard skin and began to play. I was good at this. I’d always been good at fucking and pleasuring woman, and within seconds she placed her hands on my shoulders to help keep her upright.
“More,” she demanded.
Marnie and I played games. She liked to give orders, thinking that she was in control, and I followed them or not, depending on my mood. A lot of the time I let her believe I was going to comply and then I’d pull the rug out from under her and turn the tables at the last minute.
I slipped a finger inside her and she tensed up in pleasure.
“Faster,” she requested, and when I didn’t give her what she wanted immediately, she began to ride my hand, her own fingers scratching through my beard as she mewled around my mouth.
Closing my eyes, I kissed her desperately. She was hot and warm, and I needed this. I needed all the fucking distractions I could lay my hands on. My life felt upside down and there was very little of it I was in control of. My mom was an unknown element who switched from day to day. I had to ride whatever wave she created, and Gigi showing up out of the blue had turned me inside out. Without her here, I was able to get on with shit and live in my bubble where she didn’t exist and hadn’t broken my heart. The old ‘out of sight of mind’ trick had worked for fucking years but the minute I laid eyes on her, it was as if it all came tumbling back. Every feeling and emotion I’d worked hard to tamp down threatened to resurface.
“Eat me,” I heard, as the thoughts in my head were slowly whirring out of control again. “Eat me now.”
She loved it when I scratched her thighs with my beard. It turned her into a fucking wild woman.
I pulled away from the intense kiss to let her have what she wanted. “Fuck… Gigi.”
Marnie froze in my arms and I knew I’d fucked up. My digit was still in her body but not for long. Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw the look of desperate resignation in hers. I was such a motherfucker. Marnie was on the verge of tears as she tried to cover both her awkwardness and her body with her robe.
“Marnie, I’m fucking sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
“So am I. Leave.”
“Can we—”
Finally, she unleashed her temper and slapped me swiftly across the cheek. “You deserved that. Now fucking leave.” She was on the verge of sobbing.
I was fighting a losing battle, but like all females, I knew she wasn’t finished. “Whoever that fucking girl was to you, I hope she broke your heart. At least then you’ll know how this feels.”
I’d under estimated what our fuck buddy thing had been for Marnie. While I had been taking my fill and working on keeping it cool, she’d been falling deeper. Had I paid attention, I would have spotted it and could have shut it all down before it got this far.
This was just another way I’d failed with a woman, and I hated the reminder.
I launched out and swiped at a mug that was on the table I was passing. It flew to the wall on the other side of the kitchen and broke before it hit the tiled floor. I was frustrated that I’d let everything get so out control, but worst of all, I’d ruined a friendship and hurt a girl who didn’t deserve it.
Without turning around, I raked my hands through my hair. “I know what the fuck it feels like.”
I left her front door open and for the second time in less than an hour, I was screaming away on my bike.
Sometime later, I was stopped at a gas station. I’d just been aimlessly riding around trying to come up with a plan of action. Gigi needed to leave, but I knew she wouldn’t. I could try to make her leave or figure out how the fuck to blank her and get my life back to the mundanity of Mom, work, club, party and repeat.
The nozzle was pumping the gas in my tank when I spotted a familiar old rust bucket drive past with the windows down. At first, I was confused. The hair flapping out of the window wasn’t Gigi’s, and then I realized the body was smaller. Not only that, I was looking at the passenger side of the car so whoever that girl was, it wasn’t Gigi.
Who the fuck was she driving around?
I’d got another few dollars left to go before I’d finished gassing up and like a watched pot, it seemed to take forever. Like lightening, I put the pump nozzle back, strapped my helmet on and got moving, but even those few minutes were enough for me to lose her car. I slowed as I passed intersections, but nowhere did I see it parked up. I was about to throw caution to the fucking wind when I felt my cell vibrate on my inside cut pocket. I pulled over and felt dread slide through me as the word ‘Mom’ flashed on the display.
“Alright?” I answered.
“Griffin, I need you to bring some special thread home and a box of band aids. I’ve had a productive day.”
“Ma, are you hurt? Why do you need band aids?”
“Well… actually… if you could find me some bonded or waxed thread, it needs to be quite tough.”
I was at the usual point in the conversation where I was getting answers that sparked more questions that I had no hope of pulling together unles
s she pulled her shit together first and helped me. I should have been a detective or an FBI agent. All the training I could ever need to piece evidence together and come up with a motive or theory was my normal daily life.
“Start again. Are you hurt?”
“No not yet,” she replied oddly.
I should have asked if she was going to hurt herself, but then she’d have gone berserk and that would have been an added tangent.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t tell you. It will spoil the surprise.”
“Why do you need this thread?”
All of a sudden, she squealed. “Forget it. I’ve got just the thing in the garage. Although I may still need the band aids.”
“Ma, don’t go in the garage. There is nothing you need in the fucking garage.”
“I’m going to hang up. I don’t need to hear that mouth of yours.”
“Ma!”
And hang up she did.
I was forty minutes from the house, so I did my best to maintain the exterior of a law abiding, speed conscious citizen and got home as quickly as possible. Gigi whatever-the-fuck-her-name was, was not a priority right now.
“What the fuck?” I muttered as I walked through the front door and followed the sound of Mom singing.
In our lounge was an old, sage green leather three-piece suite. It had seen better days, but it was part of my mom’s effort to keep my dad’s presence in the house. Every time I suggested a remodel or redecoration, it was met with a straight ‘no’. One of the armchairs had been tipped over and there was a huge chunk of leather material missing from the side. When I walked further in to the room, the second chair was in the exact same condition.
Mom was sitting quite content on the floor, in front of the TV with some daytime show blaring. She was singing the tunes to the informercials and her hands were raw and bleeding, and it looked like she was wrapped up in fishing wire.
Gigi: A Black Sentinels MC Novel Page 21