Fight Dirty

by Eva Ashwood

  “Try some,” he coaxes, holding the spoon out to me. I shake my head again, backing away from the dripping cheese.

  “Maybe when it’s not molten magma hot.”

  Rory rolls his eyes. “I thought you lived on the edge, Hurricane. I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”

  “Not wanting to burn my tastebuds off has nothing to do with being afraid, Rory,” I reply, deadpan.

  He just laughs and grates some cheese over the top of the pot before dishing up three bowls of creamy, cheesy goodness.

  Piper immediately clears space in front of her for the bowl when Rory brings it over, and she claps her hands happily for mac and cheese. I understand the sentiment. Once it’s cooled down some, I take a bite, and of course, it’s delicious.

  Rory smiles as he watches me eat it, but then goes back to his own bowl, shoveling a few bites in before he starts asking Piper about what she colored.

  Piper seems happy to talk about her art and then launch into a conversation about the promotion of Mr. Twinkle, who I learn is a giant stuffed cat that sits on the foot of her bed and makes sure nothing can crawl out from under it.

  It’s cute, the way she talks so animatedly, hands waving while she alternates between talking and eating, and how Rory watches her, listening and nodding in all the right places. He asks questions about her games of play-pretend with the same intensity and care that he does when Sloan is talking about Black Rose business.

  It’s sweet as fuck, and it makes me realize there’s a lot more to this guy than just dedication to his gang. There’s at least one other thing in the world that’s as important to him as that organization, and I’m looking at her right now.

  Once we’re all done, he clears away the bowls and shoos Piper into the living room for a second while he puts everything in the sink.

  She’s sitting on the couch with the TV remote in her hand when we emerge from the kitchen, eyes big.

  “Oh, god.” Rory groans. “Again?”

  “Please, Daddy?” she asks, poking out her lower lip. “It’s my favorite.”

  He sighs heavily, but I can tell it’s half faked for humor. “She wants to watch this princess movie,” he explains to me, dropping down onto the couch and then patting the spot beside him. Piper clambers over to sit in his lap, and I’m startled to realize he’s patting that spot for me.

  I only hesitate for a second before dropping down to sit next to him, keeping some distance between us. I don’t like the way my heart is racing, or the way I can’t stop looking at him, and if I had my way, I would’ve sat in the chair on the other side of the end table, but I don’t want to cause a scene in front of Piper.

  The little girl smiles at me and then goes back to trying to convince her father to put on her favorite movie.

  “Tell him!” she says to me all of a sudden, and I blink, realizing I definitely missed whatever I’m supposed to be telling Rory.

  “You should listen to her,” I say, hoping that will cover it.

  Rory gives me a look like he knows I have no idea what’s going on, but he sighs and takes the remote from Piper. “I can tell when I’m outnumbered. Princess Parade it is.” He glances at me once more and smirks. “You are going to regret this.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “Not scared of you.”

  “Oh, I don’t mean me. Just wait.”

  He puts the movie on, and Piper settles in against him, watching the screen eagerly. It only takes a few minutes for Rory’s words to start making sense. The Princess Parade movie is… really fucking bad.

  The plot makes no sense as far as I can tell. There seem to be a bunch of random princesses trying to put on a parade to celebrate… being princesses, I guess? I don’t know. There’s a musical number every five minutes or so, and no one in the movie can sing at all. Piper sounds better than they do when she sings along, and when I cringe at the flat notes, Rory grins at me triumphantly.

  I just about remember not to flip him off in front of his daughter, but it’s an excruciating hour and ten minutes before the movie is over.

  “Sometimes,” Rory whispers. “She makes me watch it twice.”

  I shudder just thinking about it, and luckily, Piper doesn’t want to watch the movie again once the credits roll. Instead she declares that she wants to play blocks, which is a relief.

  Rory goes to fetch the blocks in question, and Piper eyes me a bit. “Play?” she asks, and I smile at her, hoping it’s an acceptable one.

  “Sure. I love blocks.”

  I haven’t played with blocks since I was a kid myself and my dad brought home a beat up box filled with all kinds of blocks that he found at a thrift shop. They were all different shapes and sizes and looked like someone had just dumped all the toys their kid had outgrown into a box and donated it, but I loved them.

  Piper seems to have the same enthusiasm for her toys, because she practically throws herself on the floor in front of her blocks and starts stacking them into an elaborate configuration. After a second, she glances up at me expectantly, and I hurry to join her, smiling as I settle in.

  They’re bigger than Legos, probably so she can’t accidentally swallow one, and I start constructing a tower beside the structure she’s making.

  She babbles happily to me while we build things, and it’s actually pretty fun. I haven’t ever spent that much time around kids, but she’s really sweet and seems to be having a good time, so it’s easier than I thought it would be. I answer her questions as best I can, and through the whole thing I can feel Rory’s eyes on me from where he sits on the couch, but I don’t turn around to look at him.

  After another hour or so, Jen comes back, sweeping into the house with a grin, still singing some song from the radio. She takes one look at Piper and me on the floor with the blocks, and I half expect her to take Rory to task for letting some stranger play with their daughter.

  But instead, she just tosses her purse on the couch and gets down to play with us.

  “Rory’s too good for blocks,” she says, voice lowered like she’s sharing a secret between the three of us. “Look at him sitting there on the couch like he’s too good to build things. It’s not like the floor’s dirty. Who does he think he is?”

  I laugh, and Piper giggles, glancing up at her dad to shake her head.

  Rory just grins and leans back, arms spread out against the back of the couch. “Why would I want to be down there on the floor when I’ve got the best view from up here? Three lovely ladies being creative? Nothing beats it.”

  Jen rolls her eyes and tosses a block at him, and he catches it in midair which is… something. He just grins and tosses it back into the pile, knocking over Jen’s blocky house in the process.

  “Oops,” he says, sounding anything but sorry.

  “One of these days, I’m going to make you pay for that,” she says. “You won’t know when, and you won’t know how, but it’s going to happen.”

  “You’ve been saying that for four years, Jen,” Rory replies. “And I’m still in one piece.”

  “For now.”

  It’s the kind of playful banter that Scarlett and I have when we’re just hanging out, and it’s funny and interesting to see. Rory clearly spends a lot of time here, and he seems just as comfortable bickering with the mother of his child and playing with Piper as he does doing anything I’ve ever seen him do. He doesn’t even seem to mind doing it in front of me, which is still kind of surprising.

  It’s something I would have thought he’d want to keep private, especially since he keeps Black Rose business separate from his family, and I’m pretty sure I fall into the category of Black Rose business.

  But it’s not awkward, and Jen and Piper seem happy enough to have me there.

  Once it starts getting closer to dinner time, Jen gets up and brushes herself off. “I should get dinner going,” she says, cracking her back in a stretch. “Are you two hanging around?”

  I glance at Rory who shakes his head. “Nah, we should be getting back. It�
��s my turn to cook at the house, and Levi and Sloan might burn the kitchen down without me there.”

  He gets up, and I follow his lead, heading for the door while he hugs Jen and scoops Piper up to smother her face in kisses. She giggles and reaches up to pat his cheeks with her chubby hands. “Bye, Daddy.”

  “Bye, kiddo. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  She nods, and he passes her to Jen, who waves at me before we head out.

  It’s a short walk back to his car and my bike, and I glance at Rory periodically, trying to reconcile all the things I know about him now with the things I knew before. When I set out to follow him today, the last thing I thought I’d find out was that he has a kid. I was expecting all kinds of sinister shit, and I don’t quite know what to do with the reality.

  We split up to head back home, and I follow him more closely on my bike this time since I’m not trying to stay off his radar. When we pull up outside the house, he gets out of his car and waits for me while I climb off my bike. He’s leaning against the driver’s side door, arms crossed as he watches me. He makes no move to head toward the front door, and I stuff my hands in my pockets, coming to stand in front of him.

  “Piper’s a sweet kid,” I offer, not sure what else to say.

  “She is,” he agrees. “She likes you.”

  I don’t know how to respond to that, so I don’t say anything. He doesn’t move, flicking a glance at my bike before looking back at me.

  “So,” he says, and it’s obvious he’s been waiting to bring this up. “Why were you following me? What were you hoping to find?”

  That serious look is back on his face, and I waffle a bit. I really don’t want to admit that I was hoping following him would lead me to some dirt on the Black Rose gang that I could use against them. I may not be the best spy in the world, but even I know that would be a very bad idea.

  I could make excuses or come up with a lie, but instead, I let my mind settle on the urge I’ve had since I first saw him with Piper in his arms.

  I give in to it, taking a step forward and leaning up to kiss him right on the mouth.

  There’s a second of surprise on his part. I can feel it in the way he stiffens under my touch. But then he’s kissing me back, one hand going around the back of my neck to pull me in closer. His fingers tangle in my hair, which is windblown from riding the bike, and he bends me backward a little as he deepens the kiss.

  I wrap my arms around him, letting my fingers play over the broad muscles of his back through his soft t-shirt. As our tongues slide against each other, he pulls me closer against his body. His hands stray down my back and come just shy of cupping my ass, a slow tease that has him grinning against my lips when I make an impatient noise.

  As always, it’s so easy to get distracted by these men. I only wanted to change the subject, and now here I am, lost in his fucking kiss and wanting him to touch me more.

  “You’re trouble, did you know that, Hurricane?” he murmurs, his warm breath ghosting over my lips.

  He’s not the first person to say that about me, and I’m sure he won’t be the last.

  But the truth is, he’s trouble too.

  19

  I’m not sure what the reason is, but over the next few days, the guys start to be a little more lax in their watch over me. They’re wrapped up in their own shit, busy and distracted, and they don’t seem to care what I do all that much.

  Maybe it’s them starting to trust me, and I can’t help but think about Rory and how I followed him.

  He could’ve been furious at me for following him, especially since he seems to keep Piper and Jen separate from his work shit. But instead, he invited me in. He trusted me with his family, and maybe that was the beginning of him trusting me more in general.

  No matter what the cause, I plan to take advantage of it. If they give me more freedom of movement, maybe I can get a chance to listen in on more conversations like the one I heard at the training gym. Maybe I can leave the house more without them tracking my every damn move.

  Testing my theory that I’ve become more like a fourth roommate than a complete prisoner, I invite Scarlett to come over one afternoon after school, not telling the guys until the last minute.

  They’re all gathered in the kitchen, talking and drinking coffee while Rory makes sandwiches for lunch, and I walk in, stepping past Sloan to open the fridge and take out a bottle of water.

  “Oh,” I say, going for casual. “Scarlett’s coming over later.”

  I keep my back to them, pretending to rummage in the fridge for something else while I wait for their answer.

  “Okay,” Levi says, sounding like he doesn’t care one way or another.

  “Two beautiful ladies in the house?” Rory asks, and I don’t need to see his face to know he’s got some smug smile on it. “Be still my heart.”

  I roll my eyes at that.

  Sloan just grunts, and I take that to mean he doesn’t care either and emerge from the fridge with my water bottle in hand. The whole conversation definitely goes easier than I thought it would, and I take that to mean my freedoms are more open than they were before.

  The doorbell rings half an hour later, and I go to answer the door before one of the guys can get to it.

  “Hey, hot stuff.” Scarlett grins and throws herself at me in a hug.

  “Hey, Scar.”

  I bury my face in her hair for a second, pleased as always to smell the familiar scent of her shampoo. She’s been using the same one since we were in high school, something inexpensive that makes her hair soft and floral-scented, and it always makes me feel close to her when I smell it. With my dad still out of the picture for the time being, having Scarlett with me is the next best thing.

  I let her in, and she follows the sound of voices to the living room where the guys have moved.

  “Well, if it isn’t my three favorite gang members,” she says brightly, greeting the men when we walk in.

  They’re sprawled across the furniture carelessly, flipping through the channels on the TV. She’s only met them a couple of times, but that doesn’t stop her from talking to them like she knows them well. She knows more about them than they know about her, just from hearing me bitch about them so much, probably.

  Scarlett gives a low whistle as she glances around the living room, and I remember she’s never been at the house before. I’ve described it to her a little, but I’m not sure I did it justice.

  “Damn.” She shakes her head. “You know, Mercy, when you told me you got kidnapped by Black Rose members, I didn’t think that meant you were living in the lap of luxury. This place is fucking huge.”

  “Kidnapped is a strong word,” Rory chimes in, flashing his crookedly charming smile at Scarlett.

  She doesn’t blush, but it’s a close thing, and I can see her eyeing all three of them up as they lounge comfortably. They’re sexy as fuck, and we both know it. Hopefully she won’t start going on about it right here in front of them.

  “You literally grabbed me and put me in a car against my will,” I argue. “That’s like the textbook definition of kidnapping.”

  Levi snorts and shakes his head. “We don’t treat you badly though.”

  “That’s beside the point.”

  “I sort of pictured them keeping you in a basement somewhere,” Scarlett says. “Or like one of those houses that looks like a crack den from the outside. I definitely didn’t think it would be like this.”

  I roll my eyes. We’ve talked and texted enough times that she knew I wasn’t being kept in a basement. If I were, she probably would’ve stormed this place weeks ago, determined to bust me out no matter what happened.

  But she has a point. Their obnoxious attitudes and hard-to-resist faces aside, the guys have treated me pretty well. I eat well, have my own room and bathroom, and they don’t ask me to cook and clean or anything. Unless they’re in shitty moods, they mostly leave me to my own devices these days.

  It’s something to be grateful for, but I fee
l weird about trusting it. My dad is still out there, doing whatever dirty work they pushed on him, and I’m here, sometimes eating crepes on Sunday mornings when Rory’s feeling fancy.

  It’s weird.

  Scarlett isn’t intimidated by any of the guys, which makes me love her even more than I already do. Sloan is standoffish and curt when he deigns to speak at all, but she doesn’t bat an eyelash, continuing on with whatever she’s saying.

  It’s more comfortable than I would have expected it to be.

  “Don’t let her fool you,” Levi says, looking away from the TV. “We’re not that bad.”

  Scarlett hums, tapping a finger against her lips. “Maybe, but the last time I saw you guys, you were carting Mercy out of the bar in some macho, alpha male display of power, so I’m not sure that counts as being good either.”

  Sloan makes a face. “There was nothing ‘macho’ about it,” he mutters. “It was necessary.”

  I just roll my eyes and refuse to get into that with him. I’m still pretending most of that night never happened. “We’re going out,” I say, making the decision on the spot. “I need some air.”

  “Fine,” Sloan replies, waving a hand. “Go.”

  Neither of the other two argue, and Rory waggles his fingers in a little wave as I go to get my shoes on and grab my purse, Scarlett hot on my heels.

  I haven’t been out without them in so long that it feels weird to leave the house without one or all of them shadowing me, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I get in Scarlett’s car, leaning back and closing my eyes as she pulls out of the driveway.

  “So where do you want to go with this newfound freedom?” she asks, glancing over at me.

  “I don’t know, anywhere. Let’s get coffee.”

  Scarlett nods, and we head for the little coffee shop not far from campus where we used to hang out all the time before everything went to hell. She parks, and we get out. As we walk into the small shop, I’m immediately comforted by the smell of roasted coffee beans and the familiar sound of people chattering as they sit with their drinks.