Diamond in the Rough: RBMC Pittsburgh, PA Book 2

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Diamond in the Rough: RBMC Pittsburgh, PA Book 2 Page 3

by Deja Voss


  “It was an undercover thing, doll,” he says, shaking his head.

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

  “Can we just get this over with?” I ask. “I’m really tired, and I just want everybody out of my house. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh my God, absolutely,” Gin says sympathetically. “You better not fuck with my friend, Jonathan. She just lost her boyfriend today."

  We sit down on the couch and she takes my hand in hers, squeezing it.

  “Actually, if we’re being honest…” I bite my lip and take a deep breath. I know getting in front of this is going to be the best thing I can do to start the healing process. I know it might make the investigation take longer, and maybe I’ll have to take some of the brunt of Barney’s suicide when it comes to the guys in the MC, but I’m not going to pretend like everything was sunshine and roses. “Barney was my ex boyfriend. We separated last week, and I came by today to get my things so I could move out.”

  Gin squeezes my hand so tight, her fingernails rip at my flesh. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Ma’am, I’m gonna ask the questions here,” the cop says. “You came back here to get your things and move out, and you found him?”

  “No, he was still very alive when I came back. He was acting like everything was normal. Then Brass came over to talk to him, and he found him like that. I had no idea. It happened right under my nose and I had no idea.” I hang my head in disgust. I don’t want to believe anyone in this world would do something so cruel on purpose, but Barney always had the ability to be cruel right down to his core, like it brought him some sick pleasure.

  “Well, did he leave a note? Did you find anything indicating why he may have done such a thing?” I can’t help but feel like he’s got an accusatory tone in his voice, and Gin looks like she’s about to lunge across the coffee table and body slam him.

  “No,” I say without a second thought. “I mean, I don’t know. It’s not like I was up there hanging out with his dead body. I figured the less I touched the easier it would be for you guys to do your job. Obviously if there was a note, I would want to read it though.”

  Reality is washing over me that maybe there was something in that note that the detectives would want to see. Maybe he wasn’t just trying to spite me when he took his life. Maybe he was going to throw the club under the bus, too.

  As Rowdy and Brass follow the stretcher with Barney’s covered up body on it down the steps, as Gin hugs me in her arms when I turn my head so I don’t have to watch them wheel him from the house, I realize, I’m not ever leaving the club. These people are my family, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect them, even if it means lying to the cops.

  “Does he have any family who need notified?” Jonathan asks.

  “He has a sister in Cleveland, I’ll call her as soon as you leave.”

  He stands up from the chair and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “If you think of anything else Ms. O’Malley, don’t hesitate to call. I’m sorry about your loss.” He hands me his business card and follows the other officers out the front door.

  It’s just the four of us now, and Rowdy and Brass look like they want to climb out of their skin standing there in the living room staring at Gin and I.

  “I’m sorry guys,” I say. “I know how much you loved him. He loved you guys, too. The club was all that he had. It was the only thing in the world he cared about. I don’t want you to think for one second I’m happy about how things went down. You know I would’ve told you if I had any idea what he was planning on doing. I would’ve done whatever I could’ve to stop it.”

  “Stop apologizing,” Gin says. “Nobody here is blaming you for anything. We’re here for you. What do you need?”

  “I don’t know.” I hug my knees to my chest, my mind racing in a million directions. “I don’t know the first thing about funeral arrangements or death certificates or any of that stuff. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I never had to bury anybody close to me before.”

  “It’s all taken care of, darlin’,” Rowdy says. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Why don’t you guys get out of here?” Gin suggests. “I’ll stay over and make sure she’s alright. Tell Lean I’m not gonna make my shift at the club tonight. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  They both look relieved.

  I’m relieved, too, even though I know Gin is going to rake me over the coals for being so shady the last week.

  I stand up and walk them to the front door.

  Rowdy hugs me. “It’s going to be alright. I’m sorry you had to see this. You call me if you need anything at all.”

  I look up at Brass and his blue eyes sparkle as he pats the note in the pocket of his jeans. He doesn’t need to say anything. I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay him for everything he did for me today. I don’t know why he even cares about a girl like me, but I do know one thing, he’s a good man.

  I shut the door behind them and sigh really loud, letting all the pent up anxiety out of my lungs.

  “You sure you want to stay here tonight? We can get a hotel or something. I’ll buy,” she says.

  “This is my home, Gin,” I say. Even though the only thing on my mind earlier today was leaving, I don’t feel like there’s anything in the world that could drag me from this place now. This is exactly where I need to be, Barney or no Barney.

  “I’m not gonna pressure you, but I’m kind of upset you didn’t tell me what was going on. I’m your friend, right?” she asks.

  “My best friend. Come on, let’s crack open a bottle of wine and order a pizza and I’ll tell you everything. Let’s change into some comfy clothes and just bum around and have a sleepover. No hard feelings, ok?”

  She grabs an elastic from her wrist, tucking her bright red hair up into a sloppy bun on top of her head. “I’m sad for you,” she says with a pout, “but I’m not gonna push you. Not right now.”

  “You're a sweetheart, Gin.” I grab two glasses of wine from the cabinet and screw the top off the bottle.

  “I’ll do anything for you, you know it, right?”

  I nod, pouring us each a glass of the cheap red wine Barney kept laying around for nights when he was trying to get me in the mood.

  “I’m not going up in that attic, though. You can’t pay me enough money in the world to go up there. Shit creeps me out.”

  “You don’t want to have a seance with me?” I ask, raising my eyebrows as I hand her a glass. “We can light some candles, bust out the ouija board. Maybe I’ll invite officer Jonathan back over so he can interrogate Barney himself.”

  “You’re fucking sick.”

  “I’ll cheers to that,” I say, clinking her glass with mine. I have to laugh or I’m going to cry. I have to make stupid jokes or I’m absolutely going to lose it. I can see by the look on her face she gets it. She gets me. Maybe Barney tried to ruin my life, but he ended up giving me the greatest gift anybody ever could, and maybe that twisted fucker knew that all along.

  Chapter Three

  Brass:

  I step out on the front porch of the clubhouse to catch some air. Brothers from every chapter in the country turned out to Barney’s memorial to pay their respects. It’s been way too long since we all rallied, but that’s how these things usually go.

  We all promise to get together under better circumstances, but those circumstances never come. It’s been a hard year for the Royal Bastards. A lot of these memorial services. They always manage to get under my skin, especially when we’re celebrating the life of somebody like Barney.

  Especially because only a handful of people showed up at my mother’s memorial service and she did more good for humanity on an average day than Barney did in his whole life.

  I light up a cigarette against my better judgement. Quitting was one of the hardest things I ever did.

  It tastes like shit, but I keep sucking it down, trying to calm my nerves, trying to stay collected. I don�
�t do well in crowded spaces. Don’t much like bullshitting and small talk. I don’t trust most people, even if we are bound together by the MC.

  It’s probably why I’m the enforcer around here. I see things in black and white. Doesn’t matter who’s responsible. It’s about the only thing my dad ever taught me that was worth anything.

  Jewel’s in there doing her best to keep it together, hugging people she never even met before and listening to their bullshit stories about Barney from long before she ever even came onto the scene. I feel bad for her, but she’s handling it like a champ, or at least she’s managed to get herself just liquored up enough to smile and nod without rolling her eyes too much.

  It’s probably not my place to be keeping such a close eye on her, but I can’t stop. I never liked the way Barney treated her. We all knew he was fucking around behind her back, stealing from her, and I wasn’t surprised when I found out he put his hands on her. I don’t know how any man could treat a woman like her with so much disrespect.

  I look over my shoulder through the window, making sure she’s alright. She’s sitting on a barstool alone, a whole bottle of whiskey in her hand, looking defeated. She looks so pretty in her tight black dress. It’s one of those stretchy deals that covers her up from her neck down to her ankles, but hides absolutely nothing. Curves on curves.

  She grabs her high heels from her feet and shoves them in her purse, and I don’t know why, but it makes me fucking laugh. I definitely shouldn’t be watching her like this, but everything she does fascinates me. Sucks me in. Makes me want more.

  She picks up the bottle and puts it to her red painted lips for a second. Her eyes turn to the window, and I know she sees me. I hurry up and turn around, hoping she didn’t think I was spying on her.

  The door swings open and I suddenly feel really guilty. I try to come up with an excuse in my mind as to why I was staring at her through the window, but I’m a shitty liar.

  I toss my cig to the ground, stubbing it out with my boot.

  “We’re going to X-Stacy,” Lazarus says, a group of laughing bitches pouring out behind him. “It’s what Barney would’ve wanted. You in?”

  I roll my eyes. Of course Barney would’ve wanted to hang out at the strip club, even though what he had at home was better than any paid for pussy.

  “I drank too much for all that,” I say. “Yinz have fun.”

  “Suit yourself,” he says with a shrug. Laz is one of those guys who can drink like a fish and never slur a word. Always in control of every party, every situation, every bitch who lays eyes on him would follow him to the edge of the earth, and every brother trusts him with their life. “I’ll buy you a lap dance…”

  “I’m good,” I grumble. “Have fun.”

  He wraps his arms around two of the fall down drunk bitches and shoots me a wink. “Always do, brother.”

  I’m fucking jealous because I know it’s true. That man lives like every day is the best day of his life. He doesn’t carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, just moves along like nothing ever happened.

  As they straggle through the parking lot, I pull the front door shut with the slam and sink down into a wooden rocking chair, pulling another cigarette out of my cut.

  “You’re gonna freeze to death out there,” a muffled voice shouts through the closed window behind me. Jewel taps her fist off the glass and waves. I wave her off, turning around and watching Lazarus and his groupies pile into the hearse.

  “What the fuck are those idiots doing?” she asks, sneaking up beside me.

  “Apparently getting their money’s worth,” I say, trying not to look over at her. “We rented the thing for the rest of the night.”

  She sits down in the chair next to mine and offers me her bottle of whiskey. I put it to my lips, taking a long a swig.

  “It’s a lot to take in in there,” she says, sighing as she relaxes back in her seat.

  “Where’s your shoes?” I ask, her stockinged feet already black from the dirty floor.

  “Fuck em.”

  She takes a swig from the bottle and grimaces before hooting loudly. Her face is bright red and she laughs. “I don’t like everybody babying me and treating me like a widow. It’s fucking weird.”

  I know exactly what she’s going through, but I don’t like to talk about it. When my mom passed everyone treated me like a poor orphan boy and I fucking hated it.

  “Just what people do, darlin’. It’s called being polite.”

  “Is that why you were going to kick Barney’ ass the other day? Because it was the polite thing to do?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. I see a hint of mischief in her eyes, something sparkling, like a diamond ready to erupt from a lump of coal. I hurry up and grab the bottle from her hand and chug down a huge swallow.

  “It’s my job to keep these fuckers in line,” I growl. “We don’t put hands on women. Don’t need that kind of shit getting out about the MC.”

  “Well, I appreciated it, nonetheless. I figured with me leaving Barney and all, you guys would be done with me. Bros before hoes or whatever.”

  “Barney didn’t give a shit about anything long term. Ever,” I say. “He was in the MC, but it was just like one of his passing obsessions. You think if he really cared about the brotherhood he would’ve just offed himself? You don’t do that to your family without even a warning sign. You don’t make a fucking mess out of your life and leave the people you’re supposed to love behind to clean it up for you.”

  I clench my fists and close my eyes, frustrated with myself for letting my true emotions show to her. It’s not something she should have to deal with right now. It’s not something anybody needs to know, not even my brothers.

  “So I guess I’m the mess that needs cleaned up.” I blink my eyes open and her face is inches from mine, her whiskey soaked breath hot on my lips. She puts her hands on my chest and stares up at me with those diamond eyes.

  “What are you doing?” I look over my shoulder, knowing how bad this shit could look if anybody saw. I know she’s a good girl, but that doesn’t mean shit like this can’t get twisted in the wrong hands.

  “I’m sad. I’m lonely. I’m confused. I just want to forget about all my problems for a minute.”

  “Girl, I don’t know what gives you the impression I’m a minute man.”

  She throws her head back and cackles then licks her lips. Her hand traces up the side of my face, and my cock immediately wakes up in my jeans.

  “No,” I say. “We’re not doing this.”

  “Come on, we’ll go to my car. Nobody will know.”

  “You’ve been drinking. Your mind ain’t right. It’s just the whiskey talking, Jewel.”

  She shakes her head no.

  “How is it any different than any other time you hook up with a sweet butt? In, out, wham bam. Just two people fulfilling a mutual need.” She taps her finger to her forehead like she just made some brilliant point.

  In essence, it’s true.

  But she’s not a sweet butt. She’s not a club slut. She’s Jewel, and I’m in a really fucking tricky situation no matter how I tackle this one.

  She pouts and hangs her head, and I want to rip my skin off. The most gorgeous woman I ever met, the most perfect girl who ever set foot in this clubhouse, and I have to flat out reject her.

  Because I’m a good guy.

  Because I don’t think I have it in me to hump her and dump her. I grab the bottle of whiskey from her fist and pound it the rest of the way down, my stomach full of fire. I toss it out into the parking lot, glass shattering everywhere.

  I might be a good guy, but I’m a weak guy. The way she drums her fingers off my chest, the hurt pout on her face because she thinks I’m rejecting her by trying to protect myself, trying to protect my heart.

  She’s not a mess that needs cleaned up, but I’m about to be. I take one last look through the clubhouse window, and grab her by the hand, pulling her down the stairs into the parking lot. She tugs my arm, pulling me
towards her car, but I shake my head. Too risky. There’s security cameras all over the parking lot and I don’t know who’s coming or going.

  If I was going to make love to Jewel, it sure as fuck wouldn’t be behind the tool shed, but I’m not going to make love to Jewel. I’m going to give her exactly what she wants and that’s it. That’s all. I make a deal with myself, make a deal with my dick, make a deal with the devil on my shoulder that this is a one and done funeral fuck. Nothing more to see here.

  But it’s really fucking hard when I pin her to the side of the shed, her lips mashing up against mine, her little gasps as I nip at the side of her neck and her legs wrap around my waist, grinding against my swelling dick.

  It’s really fucking hard, but that’s the life I was destined for.

  “I’m a nice guy, I swear,” I growl in her ear as I rip her dress off her body and toss it to the ground.

  Chapter Four

  Jewel:

  There is nothing delicate about the way this man approaches me. Nothing gentle in his touch. It’s exactly what I need and everything I want, and even though he’s rough as hell, it’s wrapped in this kindness that makes me feel a lot less sad and lonely in this world.

  I didn’t think Barney’ funeral was going to hit me so hard. The funeral home did an ok job of making him look pretty similar to his old self, and I think that’s what set me off. It’s easier for me to make peace with how he looked when he was dead than to remember him alive. I was so thankful all his brothers wanted to talk my ear off, blabbing on and on about the good old days that I didn’t have to try and fabricate a list of good memories. I just had to be.

  But as the crowd started to dwindle and everyone kind of broke off into their own little cliques, I realized how alone I suddenly was in this world. If I am not Barney’ old lady, I have to face down who Jewel O’Malley truly is. And it’s not fucking pretty.

  And that’s when I spotted Brass staring at me through the window. And that’s when I decided that since my life was already in shambles, I might as well make another wrong turn. A turn towards sin in the arms of this giant beast, not a care in the world about what consequences could be coming my way.

 

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