Birds of Hell MC, page 7
“Send it now. I’ll hit one of the twenty-four-hour stores.”
“You sure?”
“I’ll see you soon.”
As much as I hate to do it, I wake Freya up to drive her back to her car.
Chapter Eleven
“I’m sorry about this. Wasn’t expecting Bensen to get sick.”
“It’s fine. Comes with being a dad.” I rub my eyes and roll out of the warmth of his bed. My body aches but in a delicious way from being fucked hard. I don’t bother with my bra. The minute I get home I’m crawling into my bed and sleeping for a week. I stumble around trying to get my boots on when Death steadies me from behind.
His lips brush over my ear. “Had a good time with you. Hope to do it again soon.”
“We’ll see.” I’m not getting my hopes up. I can’t take it any further than sex as much as I care for him and wish things were different. The sex is good. Fantastic enough that I’m selfish enough to let it continue.
“No see to it. If I want you in my bed you’ll be in my bed.”
I turn into him and pat his jaw. “Cute that you think that.”
He grabs a handful of my ass. “Don’t push your luck with me.”
“I can do what I want with who I want when I want. That might be you. It might be someone else.”
He squeezes me tighter. “I’m not playing with you. This isn’t no motherfuckin’ game.”
“You talk all big and bad, but like I said. We’ll see.”
“You’re tying to piss me off.”
“I’m keeping it real. I’m young. I’m single. I don’t have any kids or a spouse to answer to.”
“You’ll be answering to me if I catch wind you give my pussy to anyone else.”
I lean up and kiss him on the side of his mouth. “I’ll take my chances.”
His big hand wraps around the back of my neck. “Final warning. You keep talking shit, I’ll ram my dick so far up your ass you’ll never be free of me.”
I hate myself because I go instantly wet at his threat.
As if he knows he grins at me then he kisses me soft and slow. Death’s tongue slides between my lips, taking full control. He breaks away first and I hate that I could stand here kissing him forever. “Let’s get out of here.”
He drops me at the bar and waits for me to pull out before he leaves. He follows me to the apartment complex. I turn into the parking lot, and he keeps going. I promised myself that I wasn’t going to let it bother me that he’s going home to his wife. I was fooling myself.
Inside my apartment even though I am dog tired I find myself getting in the shower to wash off. My hair stinks like the bar and cigarettes. After brushing my teeth, I get my fuzzy snowmen print fleece pajama pants and matching tank on. Once I’m in my bed then do I allow my mind to race.
Is he really going home to a sick kid or is he going home to be with her? Did he get what he wanted so he wanted me gone? Does he mean it when he says that I belong to him? Its as though we’ve skipped all the relationship stuff all together and moved straight into the crazy possessive stage that both turns me on and terrifies me.
“You fucked him again, didn’t you?” Yara smirks while slapping a palm to the kitchen table of her and Whiskey’s place.
I spent part of my morning doing nothing but watching shit reality Tv and stuffing my face with chips and salsa. Gave myself a pedicure and took a big bubble bath with a glass of wine while ignoring the rest of the world.
“Who are you fucking?” Whiskey enters the room buttoning his work shirt up over his wife beater tank.
“Nobody,” my sister and I both say in unison.
“Okay then. I’ll just get my coffee and my kiss then be out of the way.”
Yara rolls her eyes, but I find the way he dotes on my sister sweet as pie.
“What’s for dinner tonight?”
“I’ll do a roast or something.”
“Sounds good, baby.” He kisses her something fierce to the point I stare into my coffee.
“Later, Frito.”
“Later.” He’s called me that since I was fifteen because every time we’d get high the only thing I wanted was BBQ flavored corn chips and a bottle of Sprite. He’s always been a good brother-in-law. Even before they were married, he never made me feel like a third wheel when I tagged along on their dates. He treats me like a big brother should, unlike my brothers who pretend I don’t exist until they want something. Zuko and Gentry are only concerned about where they are sticking their dicks next and who is washing their clothes and feeding them. Basically, like any other biker.
Once Whiskey takes off for his job at the garage Yara picks right back up focused on Death and his magical dick. “The twins are at Myrtle and Joe’s so tell me everything.” Myrtle and Joe are Whiskey’s grandparents. They live next door, and the twins are always running back and forth between the two houses.
“I mean, I think it’s gotta be that he’s older and more experienced, right?”
“No. Some people are just naturally sucky in bed. I love Whiskey. Don’t get me wrong but if I don’t do things to keep him from just sticking it in and getting his I’d never get off.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. He says its cause he’s tired or whatever but shit. I’m tired too. I spend my days cleaning up after him and the twins just for them to come home and fuck my house up again. Talking about where’s my dinner? Did you wash my pants? Mommy, I need money for a slushie. I need a new backpack. Do yourself a favor and enjoy the good dicking you’re getting. I mean I don’t condone cheating but let’s be real here. The man isn’t known for keeping it in his pants and being faithful.”
She’s not wrong and I hate that there’s been others for him. “I don’t know that I can do sex without feelings attached when it’s him.”
“You have a thing for him?”
“I guess I’ve always thought he was sexy…I never imagined that he was interested considering our age difference. He’s our father’s best friend. There is so much wrong about the situation.”
“Look, you’re my sister and I love you. I won’t judge you for wanting to be with him, but if you think you’ll have a future with him I’m afraid you’ll get hurt. Fisher royally fucked you over. No doubt. At least with Death you know what you’re getting into but be careful and protect your heart. Just have fun. You’re young and have no attachments. And for fuck’s sake don’t get pregnant.”
My stomach drops. I’m an idiot. We didn’t use condoms and I’ve been off the pill since Fisher fucked me over and I went on my no men vow of celibacy other than that guy at the beach, but he wore a rubber.
Yara stares at me. “Shit, Freya.”
“I know. I’ll be more careful.”
Her nose scrunches up. “You need to get tested. Who knows who else he’s been fucking without protection?” She takes my hand. “Want me to make you an appointment?”
“No. I’ll do it.”
“Want me to go with you?” Yara stepped in to fill our mother’s shoes the best she could to teach me about periods and boys. She had our mother to teach her. I didn’t get those years with her.
“No but thank you anyway. I should probably get back on birth control.”
“Definitely. You know twins run in our family.” She’s not wrong. Zuko and Gentry are twins. Luna and Sorin are also twins. Then our half sisters are a set of twins as well.
“A baby is the last thing I want.”
“That’s what I said too but then I got pregnant, and our father made me marry Whiskey.”
“Well, I doubt he’d want me to marry Death considering he’s already married among other things.”
“I don’t think he’d care. Probably be happy.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“Whatever. You working today?”
“Tonight. I wanted to see if you wanted to hit the mall with me to look for a new pair of jeans and grab lunch at Bookers. There’s bound to be some good sales.”
“Does a fat kid love cake?”
“I know I did.” I finish my coffee and work on folding the two baskets of laundry that are in desperate need of attention. Yara loves when I come over because I clean and help catch her up on chores. My sister is one of those people who can’t focus on completing one task. She goes to wash the dishes but needs to clean the sink first only then she realizes she’s out of bleach or something. So then she goes to the store and remembers she needs to grab something for dinner and on the way home she has to get gas. By the time she gets home and puts her groceries away she’s too tired to cook and orders a pizza or Whiskey stops to get something on his way home.
I get exhausted thinking about it. By the time she’s ready I’ve moved to making the twin’s beds and emptying the trash.
“You’re seriously the best. Whiskey should’ve married you.” She snorts.
“That’s not funny. You know he worships the ground you walk on.”
“Ha. Sure he does.”
I make a face, but she waves me off. She seriously doesn’t get how good she’s got it with him. I know the grass isn’t always greener on the other side and all that. Still though, he always puts her first.
We take separate cars because knowing my sister she will need to make ten other stops after the mall, and I want to get home to take a nap before my shift later.
It’s early enough the mall isn’t super crowded, which is good for me because it means I don’t have to wait in line to get a cookie from the cookie store. I know it will go straight to my ass and thighs, but I can’t come to the mall and skip a cookie. They are the best thing since pockets. I buy two chocolate chip ones with frosting on them for a treat for the twins later from their favorite auntie if Yara doesn’t forget about them. She’s always doing some kind of diet trying to drop the last twenty pounds of her pregnancy weight. Although at this point with them in preschool it’s safe to say it’s no longer baby weight.
She doesn’t need to lose weight, but you can’t tell her that. The stubborn bitch won’t listen. Not to me or her husband. Yara is like our mother in that way. I stick the cookies in her purse and save half of mine for later.
While I’m in Victoria’s Secret hunting for the perfect new bra she stops at one of those kiosks to buy fidget toys for the twins. They are way into bubble poppers. I could probably build a rubber room to lock myself up in out of the collection they have already amassed from Christmas.
I hold up a red see through bra that is sure to get a reaction from Death when a familiar face passes by the store window. Jimbo. He works mall security and picks up extra shifts at The Terminal on his days off. He gives me a wave and I stupidly shake the bra at him.
Ugh. Pink tinges my cheeks. I don’t need him thinking I’m trying to flirt with him or something. He tried asking me out a year ago. There’s nothing wrong with him per say. The guy simply isn’t my type.
He’s on the short side and I am one of those girls who likes my man to be taller than I am. Plus he talks nonstop about Anime series. That’s cool that its his thing. I just don’t want to hear about it every five minutes. I’m certain he still lives with his mother. I grab the matching thong to the bra and pay.
I find a perfect pair of jeans in American Eagle that hug my ass but have some stretch to them to be comfortable enough to work in. Whiskey called and asked Yara to lunch so I go to Bookers alone which is fine by me. I don’t have a problem going out to eat solo. Bookers is a bookstore slash café type deal that serves the most amazing sandwiches and soups along with coffee and tea.
The place is way cool. You can shop books while waiting for your food. Spring through Fall on the other side of them is a greenhouse, but I don’t go there often since I don’t have a yard of my own but if I did, I’d get my plants and flowers from there.
I order my grill cheese panini and tomato soup. I haven’t treated myself to a new book in a few months. I haven’t had the time, but I grab a romance that the cover catches my eye. I start back to my table with my book when I spot my mother. Shit. I hope she doesn’t see me.
I hide behind a tall leafy plant and observe her. She’s got some nonfiction self help books. My blood freezes when I see the title for one of them. Thirteen Ways to Spice Up Your Marriage. What the hell? What happened to her perfect life? Looks like there’s trouble in paradise.
Chapter Twelve
I pull up to the house and shut my truck off. I sit and stare at the house. Bigger than we needed for the three of us. Five bedrooms. Inground pool. Three car garage. Half of me doesn’t want to exit my truck to walk inside. It killed me not to pull in at the apartments and follow Freya inside, but I’m a father and my child comes first.
Blowing out a breath I go inside before I stick my key back in the ignition and go chasing after pussy. I kick off my boots. Belinda has a shit fit if I wear them through the house. I hang my jacket and my cut and head upstairs to a room I’ve never slept in. A room I only enter if I have to.
The door hangs open and the bedside lamp is still on. Belinda is propped on her pillow, her light brown hair fanned out on her pillow. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she is posing for a damn picture or some shit. Bitch has her tits pushed up and practically hanging out of a tight silky tank top. Bensen is curled next to her facing in the opposite direction. He’s a bit pale but doesn’t seem to be running a temperature. I don’t want to wake either of them after what sounds like a long night for the two of them. I switch the lamp off and leave the door cracked in case he wakes up. I can hear him from my room down the hall. I drew a line at sharing a bed with her. Wasn’t any point in laying next to a woman I didn’t want who also wasn’t a fan of me or dicks in general.
When Bensen was a baby, I had thoughts of us maybe trying to make it a go, but the connection was never there. I respect her as the mother of my boy but that’s as far as it goes for me. I strip down and change into a pair of flannel pajama pants and climb into bed feeling like I’m a trespasser. A stranger who doesn’t belong here. I love my kid, but I want out of this sham. I figured one of us would have met someone by now. I thought Petra was going to be my out. That she’d make Belinda want more than this. A man she doesn’t love sleeping down the hall from her. A man who shows up out of necessity not out of the desire to.
She can’t be happy.
I sure as fuck am not.
I lay in this bed with thoughts of Freya filtering through my head. I am totally fucked. No matter what I do I’m going to hurt her. If she were smart, she’d run far from me. Find a better man. Make a life for herself away from this club. Away from Hell, Tennessee. She’d be like her mother. I know Cate had her reasons and I played my role in Crow keeping his kids, but bitch should’ve fought harder to take her girls with her.
Eventually sleep takes me because the next thing I know Bensen is jumping on the bed with his big blue eyes and a smile. “You missed the fireworks.”
“Sorry, Bud. What do you say we have us a boy’s day and give your mom a break?”
“Mom says we need to get dressed that we’re going to Pa’s to eat.”
Fuck. Belinda knows I hate that family gathering bullshit where her family all stares at me wondering why she ever got hooked up with a piece of shit criminal like me. They all think I’m trash but tolerate my existence. If I’d quit dragging my feet and talk to her then I wouldn’t be having to endure this shit.
“You brushed your teeth or cleaned your ears yet?”
“No.”
“Well get to it.”
He rolls his eyes but does as he’s told. He’s a good kid. I wish I’d had him under different circumstances, but I don’t regret him. I hit the kitchen for a cup of coffee while I wait for my boy to finish up in the bathroom.
Belinda is already dressed in a tight black sweater paired with even tighter black leggings that really lift her ass. Full face of makeup, hair curled and styled. Her perfume wafts around me as she moves around the room getting us both a mug. I lean a hip to the counter staying out of her way.
“What time did you make it in?”
“Late. Early. Depends on how you look at it. Bud seems to be back to himself.”
“Like I said. Too much junk.” She moves toward me with a strange smile on her face as though she’s genuinely happy to see me this morning. It’s fucking weird. I accept the coffee and go to take a sip when she moves in close to my face and sniffs me. “Do wash your face. You smell like pussy.” Her nose crinkles.
“The fuck?”
“Who is she?”
“None of your god damn business.”
“You come into our home we share with our son smelling like another woman that makes it my business. I have a right to know who you’re spending your time with. Time need I remind you that you could have been spending helping me take care of our child.”
I toss the coffee mug into the sink with a clang. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Start being a bitch to me because you broke up with Petra. I don’t need it. I sure as fuck don’t have to put up with it.” I move for my keys.
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here. Told you from day one that who I fuck is none of your business.”
“Don’t go. I’m sorry. You know how my parents are. If you’re not there…”
“You’ll tell them something I’m sure.”
“And what about Bensen? What do I tell him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the truth. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“What are you saying?”
“I want out.”
“Out?” She laughs. “There is no out.”
“What the fuck do you want from me?”
“For you to act like my husband.”
“I never should have agreed to this bullshit. You don’t own my life.”
“I could send you and your club away for a long time.”
“And implicate your family at the same time.” I move toward her, and she shrinks back. “Don’t fucking threaten me, sweetheart, unless you’re ready to go down with me. You’ve never given a fuck before.”
