West, page 8
"You're scared of snakes?" she asked, untangling the massive thing that put the ones Rey had to shame. "That's kind of, I don't know, cute."
"I'm not afraid of them," I objected.
"No?" she asked, moving closer, holding out the snake. "Prove it. Give her a snuggle."
"Who snuggles snakes? Do you snuggle tarantulas too? Cockroaches? What the fuck would possess you to get one of those things instead of a cat or dog or hamster?"
"I actually stole her."
"You stole her," I repeated, brows drawing together. "From the pet store?"
"From some guy. He had a party at his place. And this sweet girl was living in a plastic container with no water and hardly any light. She was emaciated. People like that shouldn't be allowed to keep animals. I had to take her. She fit right into my purse. I like cats and dogs and hamsters too. But this lady needed me. So she's been with me for about two years. I don't know how old she was before me. Her name is Petunia."
"Petunia," I repeated, feeling my lips curve up.
"Come on. Hold her. They feel really cool."
"Yeah, no, babe. You can put that thing right back in its enclosure."
"Chickenshit," she said, smirking as she moved closer still, arms—and snake—outstretched.
"Fuck off," I demanded, retreating another step. Then another.
The next thing I knew, she was chasing me through her goddamn apartment with a fucking snake.
"Shit—" she shrieked, her foot catching the edge of the coffee table, her body falling forward.
My arms shot out, snagging her around the waist, catching her before she hit the ground, pulling her back up.
Now, did this woman sigh in relief, thank me for saving her from cracking her face off the floor?
No.
No, of course she did not.
Nope.
She took the opportunity to toss Petunia around my neck.
"Not funny, Auggie. Get her off," I demanded, shoulders inching up as the snake slithered down my chest, stomach, aiming lower.
"Petunia! I know that is where the goods are, but no means no," she declared, moving to grab her pet, winding it around her arm. "See? Was that so bad?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Well... exposure therapy then. Phobias are bad for you and all that jazz."
"Do you have any fear, Auggie?" I asked, having a hard time picturing her being scared of anything. She lived so fearlessly.
"I'm pretty terrified of letting any beauty salon cut my hair," she declared, shrugging. "When I was twelve, I went in for this really trendy short haircut. I brought in a reference photo and everything. And they butchered me."
"I'm sure it wasn't that bad. Face like that, babe, you could pull off anything."
"Yeah?" she asked, going into her coffee table, pulling out a photo album, flipping through, producing a picture.
Of a young Auggie.
With a goddamn bowl cut.
Good bone structure or not, it was rough.
"Alright. I see what you mean," I agreed, smiling.
"The worst part was my school wouldn't let me wear a hat or a scarf or anything on my head while it grew back in. I had to go in there every day looking like that. For over a year before it was long enough for me to be able to pull it up. I was scarred for life. Now the only person who cuts my hair is me."
"I meant a real fear, babe."
"Oh, it is real. But, I mean, I think everyone is mildly afraid of a lot of the same things. Car accidents, serious illnesses, dying, strange men in dark alleys. Aside from those, not really. I had very little supervision as a kid. I was reckless because there was no one there to tell me to be careful, to be afraid of the consequences. So I never really developed that fear."
"A blessing and a curse. That's what my mother would call that."
"She wouldn't be wrong," Auggie surprised me by admitting.
"Gotten close sometimes, huh?" I asked, seeing a hint of vulnerability in her that I hadn't seen before.
"You could say that."
"How close?"
"Close." Just as quickly as that vulnerability appeared, it was gone. "But life isn't interesting if it is always perfectly safe. Okay. I am going to shower now. I will make sure Petunia is secure," she added, rolling her eyes at me as she made her way down the hall.
Alone, I dropped down onto the couch, taking a deep breath, trying to remind myself of all the reasons why it was a bad idea to go down that hall, shrug out of my clothes, and join her in the shower.
Really, I could only come up with one solid reason.
Huck.
I suddenly felt apologetic to all the guys my sisters maybe wanted to date who refused to do so because of me.
"Hey West," she called a few moments later as I scrolled through some of the responses Reign had to my email earlier.
"Yeah, babe?"
"Aside from buying your sisters period products, have you ever helped them pick out outfits?"
"I'd made suggestions not to wear certain outfits. Those suggestions were always ignored, of course."
"Of course," she agreed. "Well, I am open to some feedback," she said, voice coming closer, making me turn to see her walking down the hallway in nothing but a towel, an outfit in each hand. "Romper or dress?"
"How drunk you planning on getting tonight?"
"What? What does that have to do with anything?"
"If you are going to get dance-on-the-counter, pass-out-on-the-couch drunk, a dress probably isn't your best choice. The hem rides up," I explained to her blank look.
"That is some sound logic. But I don't plan on getting drunk. And rompers make bathroom trips a chore."
"Why are you getting dressed up if it is just a hangout thing tonight?"
"I wear scrubs all day at work. I like an excuse to dress up on occasion. Oh, can you get that? It's probably Ayanna. She comes early to fix the food I have already prepared. I'd be insulted if she wasn't always right."
With that, she moved down the hallway.
"Oh, you finally gave in," Ayanna said by way of greeting, pushing past me in a floor-length pink dress, bags in her hands.
"Gave in," I repeated.
"Where are your manners?" she asked, jerking her chin toward the hall where more bags were situated. "But, yes, gave in. It took you a long time. It was driving Gus insane. It is not like her to have a crush on anyone."
"A crush?" I asked as I watched her move around the kitchen with practiced precision.
"Yeah, well, our girl is a fan of fun and light and casual. She's been known to be into someone before. For all of five or six hours. But she was practically chasing you around like a heartsick teenager. I don't think I need to tell you how unusual that was. So I am glad you finally gave in, and put her out of her misery."
"Ayanna, I was here to bring a keg."
"Oh, she said, turning to me, pressing her lips together. "Whoops," she added, not looking apologetic at all. "This spinach is sliced too small," she said, clucking her tongue as she mixed it.
"I tried to tell him that!" Auggie said, appearing at my side, drawing my focus over. The dress, yeah, it was a good decision.
Deep blue, tight, short, low cut. It left next to nothing up to the imagination.
I damn sure wasn't complaining.
"Guess we can't complain too much," Ayanna said, sticking a spoon into the onion dip, giving it a taste. "At least he helped. Remember when you were living back at home? Those assholes would dare to make demands then disappear so they didn't have to help? Then if you complained, they'd say they could have just ordered something in. While scraping the bottom of their plates. Small spinach isn't a big deal," she added, shaking some dill into the dip. "You're in for a treat. Gus parties are some of the best parties in the area. Do you need to get that?" she asked, making me realize my phone was ringing. I'd been too busy watching the way the hem of Auggie's skirt slipped up when she reached across the counter to slip a Dorito into a warm cheesy dip.
Finding Reign's name on the screen, I realized I did.
"What's up?" I asked as I moved into the hall.
"Just had church," he said, making me momentarily miss my crew. It was strange how I had spent so much of my career completely alone. And happy about it. Then just a week or so away, and I felt like I was missing out when they did something without me.
"Yeah? How'd that go?" I asked, trying to keep the eagerness out of my tone.
The truth was, I wanted this club to happen. I liked this crew. I was intrigued by the idea of having a hand in starting a new chapter. In having this place to visit during the long, cold Jersey winters.
"Between what you've had to say, and what Chris has dug up, everyone seems pretty comfortable with the crew. Enough to say moving forward is a good idea. If they can secure the market there, we will know they have a chance at holding it. If they can't then, well, we will know it isn't going to happen. This chapter will need to stand on its own. Like we do. Some exceptions could be made for some new, big threat, but as a whole, we handle Navesink Bank, they handle that area."
"That makes sense," I agreed. "Are you coming down to tell them the news?"
"I figure you can handle getting it started. A bunch of us will all take trips down eventually, but everyone has some shit going on right now. Since you're there, it's easier to have you oversee shit, and report back to us."
That was actually a lot of responsibility, a lot of trust he was giving me. I couldn't have possibly known how much that would mean to me to have that from him. I guess because my own father was a dick. It wouldn't have mattered if I was the perfect kid, he'd have still found fault in me. I just figured it was something I could do without in life. But, as it turns out, getting that approval from Reign—who was a bit of a father figure to most of us—meant something. Meant a hell of a lot more than I could have guessed.
I had to pull this off.
To prove myself to him.
And maybe even to myself.
It was no secret that I was somewhat flaky. No one would ever dare call me serious. A part of me liked that. Liked the ability to add a bit of light to an oftentimes very heavy club. It was nice not to be the one to make decisions, the one people were putting responsibility on. To be able to just be and have fun—that shit was underrated, if you asked me.
That said, I wanted to prove myself now.
Which meant that every part of this had to go flawlessly.
And that meant it was even more important to stay as far away from Auggie as possible.
If there was one thing I knew, it was that letting yourself get distracted by a woman was one surefire way to fuck everything up.
I turned, moving back into the apartment, finding Auggie sprawled across the couch, legs on full display, top slipping down, tits nearly spilling everywhere.
Being all...distracting.
Fuck my life.
SEVEN
West
The plan was relatively simple.
Yet ingenious.
With so much competition in town, Huck had decided that it would be the path of least resistance to make that work in our favor.
Why bother having to take out the Russians, Ukrainians, and the local street gangs when you could simply take out one of the Russians?
Then convince the remaining Russians that the street gangs did it. Meanwhile, you got the street gangs to think it was the Ukrainians. Or find them and take them out as well.
It would be chaos.
And by the time anyone figured out what was really going on, three-fourths of the competition would be taken out or cut off at the knees. From there, it would be easy work to pick the rest of them off.
It was the kind of plan I could hear Lo suggesting.
And it was one Reign approved of when I told him about it. Though, I suspected, even if he thought the plan was asinine, he wouldn't have tried to step in to stop anything. It sounded cold and heartless, but he believed that if they got slaughtered in this first initial test, then they didn't have what it took to be Henchmen long term anyway. So he would have let them walk to their own deaths just to know if they had what it took or not.
"How well protected are the Russians?" I asked, watching Remy try to snag Auggie around the midsection, but she twisted away at the last possible second, slamming the football down on the sand, throwing her arms up in the air in victory.
I decided right then and there that it should have been a crime for a woman who looked like her to do sports in a public place while wearing a bikini. A bright red bikini. That barely held in her breasts. That showed a nice chunk of ass.
Let's just say... things were moving around a lot.
And I was focusing way too much on it when I was supposed to be giving Huck my full attention, being his sort of sounding board since he saw me as a superior, someone who could give him advice.
It had been Auggie's idea to do a beach day since the on-season was quickly approaching and, according to all of them, you wouldn't catch them anywhere near the beach in the on-season. It was something I'd heard a lot of the girls and guys say about the beach back near Navesink Bank as well.
They'd all jumped at it since she promised to invite her friends and their friends, meaning the guys would have some eye candy while we drank mixed drinks out of Powerade bottles.
Remy, more the life of the party than any of the others, had brought the ball and talked the girls into a battle of the sexes.
I think he vastly underestimated their clear decision to take that title very seriously, and prove that they were superior.
Che was currently bent forward, hands on his thighs, sucking in greedy breaths, while the girl he'd been chasing—one of Auggie's friends—a tall and athletic redhead—was barely winded at all.
"On the daily, not that protected," Huck said, making my focus pull back to him, trying to remember what we were talking about. Right. The Russians. "They're cocky. They think they can protect themselves. But on shipment days, they tend to have a few hired hands watching out too. So we go after them on the off days."
"Alright fuck this," McCoy said, stalking over, slapping my hand. "Tagging your ass in," he explained, pulling me onto my feet. "Those chicks are out for blood. I've given them enough of mine," he added, holding out his arm, showing actual scratch marks, the skin raised and painful-looking. "Your sister is requesting we get subs," he said, nodding at Huck. "You coming?"
"Yeah. We'll talk more later," he told me, giving me a nod as my gaze moved to the group standing around waiting.
"Come on. Don't be a pussy," Auggie taunted, smirk pulling at her lips. "There's nothing to be scared of. There's no snakes here," she added, eyes dancing.
"Oh, pretty girl," I said, shaking my head. "You're going down for that," I told her, catching the ball when Remy tossed it to me.
The two of us went to line up, bending forward near each other while our teams got behind us.
"Luckily," she started in a voice just loud enough for me to hear, "I don't mind going down," she said, making my gaze shoot to hers, finding her eyes heated. "Actually, I'm pretty fucking into it," she told me. "Good luck trying to concentrate now," she added, doing a little shoulder shimmy that made her tits bounce around, barely contained by her bikini top.
The game could have been called right then and there.
She'd done it.
Proved her sex was superior.
Because I couldn't think about anything but her on her knees for the next twenty minutes, leaving me as winded as Che, as scratched up as McCoy, but still as enthusiastic as Remy.
I was just about to give us all a little hope, arm raised to pass the ball to Che who was close enough to our makeshift end-zone to finally get us some points.
And five-feet of determination caught me around the middle, sending the both of us flying.
"Fuck," I hissed as I landed on my back, Auggie sprawled across my front. "Sand looks a hell of a lot softer than it is," I added, realizing my arm had anchored around her midsection to anchor her to me as we went down, feeling her warm skin under my touch, forcing myself to make it drop down at my side instead.
"Your chest isn't any softer," she added, pressing her hands into the sand at my sides, pushing up, but only far enough to look down at me. "I think you deflated my tits. Which is impressive. Because they're real."
"You're going to need to have a little fucking mercy, sweetheart, and not talk about your tits right now," I told her, taking as deep a breath as I could with her on my chest.
"Why? Is it a problem?" she asked, wiggling her fucking hips against me, the friction making it damn near impossible to force my brain to keep my cock out of the equation.
"You know what, babe?" I asked, watching as her lips curved up.
"What?"
"I think you need to cool down," I told her, knifing up, crushing her to me so she couldn't scuttle away. Getting to my feet, I tossed her up over my shoulder.
"No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it!" she squealed, pounding her fists against my back.
As it turned out, Auggie wasn't afraid of anything, but she was damn sure squeamish about the disgusting shit that could be found in the ocean.
When Huck told me, I had just cataloged it away as something interesting to know about her. I didn't think I could use it against her at some point.
Life could be pretty serendipitous at times.
"Nope. Someone needs to teach your ass a lesson," I declared as we moved past our teams, all of the members on both sides grinning at the sight.
"I am going to scream," she declared, pounding harder.
"Yeah, honey, you are," I agreed, going ahead and letting the desire she'd been shamelessly stoking slip into my voice since we were getting close to the water, out of earshot of the crew. My hand went up, slapping her ass hard. "And that is just going to make me love it even more," I added, feeling the cold waves lap at my feet, ankles, shins, as I moved in.
"Let me go. I'll do anything you want."
"Too late, baby, you've had this shit coming to you for a while," I told her, sliding her down my body, and tossing the two of us into an oncoming wave.
She came up spitting.
In both a literal and figurative way.
