The idea of her with Creed lit the match on my rage as I snapped, “No, you didn’t.” My blunt statement startled her, since she must have assumed I hadn’t been with Creed since I was using their bathroom instead of his. “Now, if you don’t move that fat ass of yours out of my way, I will pop those fucking titties like water balloons.”
Shocked mutterings and an “Oh, girl,” met my words as Candy stared at me in stunned disbelief. When I made a move forward, she stumbled back out of my way and the group of women that had gathered parted like the Red Sea as I made a beeline for the door.
I held my head high, even when I heard someone whisper, “Isn’t that Creed’s shirt?” I forced myself not to care what they thought, if they assumed I was just another one of them, another woman there to warm a bed until she made old lady status. I made it to my room, pathetically grateful I didn’t have to share it as I shut the door and sank to the floor, trembling as I wondered if I’d just made my stay here a thousand times worse.
***
A knock on the door accompanied by a brusque, “You ready,” had me scrambling to my feet as I swiped at my eyes, making sure none of the tears that threatened had actually escaped.
I yanked the door open so fast he jerked back. He gave me a hard stare, his gaze missing nothing. “Someone bother you?” He questioned, his gaze sweeping the room suspiciously. I shook my head frantically, not wanting to admit my confrontation with Candy. “You’d tell me,” he stated, a hint of uncertainty coloring his voice.
“I’d tell you,” I promised, telling myself it wasn’t a lie. I would absolutely tell him if some guy messed with me, but his ex-girlfriend was another thing entirely. I couldn’t depend on him to fight all my battles.
“A’ight,” he acknowledged, moving aside so I could step out of my room. “Anybody does and I’ll have a word with them,” he added grimly and I pressed my lips together, nodding. We were walking down the hall when he stopped abruptly. “You wrap your ribs?”
“Um,” I answered and he gave me an unamused glance.
“So, no.”
I took a deep breath, causing his gaze to drop to my chest, and his frown deepened. “I don’t think I need it,” I explained, poking at the bruised area. I winced as I touched a particularly tender area and he coughed.
“Don’t need it.”
“It’s just sore,” I muttered defensively. His hand dropped to my lower back as he steered me forward once again.
“We’ll see,” he replied, his gaze flickering over me. “Speak up if you’re hurting.” A frown crossed his face. “Maybe we should take you to the doctor.”
“No,” I answered immediately. “I swear I’m fine. Just bruised and sore.” He didn’t comment but finally nodded, allowing us to keep moving.
Right before we reached the main area, he paused, his jaw working as he said, “Shirt looks good on you.”
He pushed through the door before I could respond and I tugged at the knotted hem self-consciously as I remembered hearing one of the girls’ comment that the shirt belonged to Creed.
“Jailbait!” The booming voice brought my head up along with the attention of the entire room. Deacon flashed a bright, white smile and I felt my own mouth tilt up in response. He held up a little jar, ducking his head as he came close. “Norah said apply it as often as needed.” He shot a conspirator’s wink as he handed to me. “For all of our sakes, I’d start now.” He glanced pointedly over at Creed and I nodded in understanding. I hadn’t missed the way Creed’s mouth tightened whenever he caught sight of the bruises dotting my face.
“We’ll be gone most of the day,” I overheard Creed say as we wandered closer to where he stood with Johnny.
“Make sure you stay out of trouble,” Johnny barked, popping a cigarette in his mouth as his gaze flickered to me. “She’s caused enough all by herself.”
I bit my lip to quell an instinctive protest as Creed rolled his shoulder impatiently. “It’s a quick in and out to get some of her stuff. No trouble.”
“You talk to Monty?” Johnny’s tone left no doubt he thought Creed had forgotten.
“Yeah, he’s gonna set something up this week,” Creed replied, his gaze daring Johnny to question him. Johnny simply nodded, blowing smoke right at my face. Creed waved it away, growling, “Don’t be an ass.” His warning fell on deaf ears as Johnny bared his teeth in a grin.
“Go ahead then,” Johnny waved his arm mockingly as he granted his permission. “Don’t forget to be home by midnight.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Creed muttered, steering me once again toward the door. “We’ll get breakfast on the road,” he mentioned as we stepped outside. “Clutch had to get an early start this morning.”
“Okay,” I replied, starting toward the bikes lined up.
“Whoa,” Creed grabbed my arm, gently pulling me to a stop. “Not today, not with your ribs still sore.” He shook his head. “Shouldn’t have forced you to ride all the way here with those ribs bruised like that.”
“You didn’t have a choice,” I argued, not bothering to analyze why I was defending a choice I’d adamantly been against at the time. “What are we going in then?”
Creed nodded to the pickup truck. “That. Deacon is gonna ride alongside,” he explained as Deacon swung his leg over one of the bikes. It was a cobalt blue with a terrifying skull grinning out from the side, along with a sunflower detailed prominently next to it. Deacon caught my stare and grinned.
“Norah loves sunflowers,” he told me as if that explained everything and as my fingers tightened around the little jar of cream she’d made for me, I realized it did. These guys might be dangerous and rough, but they loved fiercely and unapologetically.
“Come on,” Creed motioned for me as he opened the truck door, lifting me up so I wouldn’t have to stretch. He nodded at the jar. “Put it on.”
I saluted as I said, “Yes, sir.”
His lips twitched but he didn’t say anything as he slammed my door shut and went around to say something to Deacon. I opened the jar and the scent of lavender drifted out. I inhaled as I dabbed my finger into the jar and smoothed it over my cheekbone. Creed hauled himself inside and started the engine.
“Don’t forget your ribs,” he mentioned, not looking at me as he said it. I nodded, staying silent as I thought about lifting my shirt to apply the cream while in the confined space with him. It seemed too intimate, but so far that seemed to be status quo with us.
The rumble of Deacon’s bike accompanied us out of the parking lot and we were out of the city limits before Creed spoke again. “There’s a Mickey D’s off the highway. That good with you?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” I answered absently, my hands playing with the jar as I contemplated the best way to apply the cream without giving him a peep show. I fiddled with the hem of my shirt, Creed’s shirt, a little voice piped up when he cleared his throat.
“I’ll park and go inside to get the food,” he muttered abruptly. “You can,” he pointed at my chest, “Rub that in while I get it.”
I smiled in relief as I nodded, not missing his discomfort. It seemed neither of us wanted me to lift my shirt while we were riding together.
Once we got to the fast food restaurant, Creed hopped out and exchanged a few words with Deacon before going inside. A glimpse out the side mirror revealed Deacon propped against the bed of the truck, his gaze focused on the parking lot. I made quick work of applying Norah’s cream, rubbing the excess on my arms before screwing the lid back on. I gingerly touched the bruising on my face, surprised when it seemed less tender.
The door opened suddenly, startling me, as Creed tossed a brown bag toward me. “I forgot I need to go by the electric company,” he muttered and I nodded. “Won’t take long.”
“It’s cool,” I murmured, digging into the bag for my food.
“We’ll still have plenty of time to get your stuff,” he assured me and I nodded at him again, my mouth stuffed like a chipmunk. He stared at me for a second in bemusement. �
�You definitely eat more than I would have thought.”
“Thanks?” I mumbled, lifting one shoulder.
“It’s good,” he answered, grabbing his own sandwich as he steered the truck back the way we’d came.
He turned into the parking lot of a low brick building, going around the back to a drive thru. When he pulled up to the window the woman inside sent the drawer out without even glancing up.
“How can I help you?” Her flat voice sounded scratchy over the ancient speaker and Creed drummed his fingers on the truck door through his open window.
“I need to make a payment for 674 Sweetwater Drive,” he answered. “Hayes.” When he said his last name her head turned and immediately her indifference disappeared. I watched in amusement as she touched her hair and gave him a bright smile.
“Creed?” She giggled like she wasn’t sure and flapped her hand. “I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age.”
Creed flashed her a smile and I swore her ovaries exploded as she stared at him breathlessly. “It has been a minute, Maureen.” He shifted back slightly so Maureen could see me sitting there. “Can you tell me what’s due on the house?”
She blinked at him slowly but finally nodded as she started typing into the computer, glancing over occasionally to make sure he hadn’t disappeared. Creed reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. The rich brown leather was supple with an intricate embossing on it. He noticed my interest and handed it to me to inspect. “One of the guys does leather work,” he mentioned, nodding to the wallet as my fingers traced over the club insignia detailed into the leather.
“It’s beautiful,” I said admiringly.
“$327.16,” Maureen interrupted, her tone waspish at Creed’s inattention. He gave me a small grin before turning back to her.
“Now, Maureen, I lived in that house all my life and I know it was never that high before,” he commented, his slow smile melting her hostility. “Why is it so much now?”
She simpered a bit, glancing at him through lowered lashes as she bit her lip. “I’m not supposed to discuss someone else’s account with you, Creed Hayes.”
He rolled his shoulders, as he flashed a dimple that made her sigh. “All I want to do is pay the bill and I do own the house, Maureen.”
“Well, I reckon that’s true,” she admitted, glancing over her shoulder before leaning toward the window like she was about to tell a secret. “It’s high because the bill hasn’t been paid in four months, Creed.”
I saw the subtle tightening of his shoulders at her revelation but his smile never wavered as he kept his eyes on her and held out his hand for me to give him back his wallet. I placed the smooth leather in his palm and he flipped it open, pulling out four hundred dollar bills.
“Go ahead and put this on the account for me, Maureen,” he requested, sliding the bills under the little metal bar of the drawer. “That should take care of it for now.”
“Of course,” she gushed, bringing the drawer in and reaching in blindly as she continued to stare at him. “You always take care of business, Creed.” I couldn’t stop the snort that escaped me and heard Creed cough in response.
“I appreciate you taking care of that, Maureen,” Creed said with a nod as he put the truck into gear. “Good seeing you.”
“You too! Maybe I’ll see you at the bar,” she added hopefully and Creed nodded but didn’t say anything as he pulled away.
“You have a fan club,” I stated as he lifted up in the seat, sliding his wallet back into his pocket. “Seems the Hayes name gets attention wherever you go.”
He chuckled, “That can be good and bad.”
I glanced back at the electric building where I had no doubt Maureen was still staring after us, four hundred dollars clutched in her hand. Deacon roared out around us, taking the lead as Creed settled back into the seat. “Seems like a good thing so far,” I responded and he shrugged lightly.
“Being a Rebel around here is kinda like being the high school quarterback,” he admitted. “Everybody knows your name.”
“And Hayes is synonymous with Rebel?” I questioned and he gave me a quick glance.
“You use big words,” he mentioned even as he nodded. “Yeah, my dad founded the Rebels with Johnny. They’re the reason everyone knows us.”
“What happened to your dad?” I asked hesitantly. I hadn’t heard anyone mention an elder Hayes and was almost afraid to know.
“He died when I was eleven,” Creed answered, his gaze focused on the road. “Accident at his construction job.”
“That must have been hard on you and your mom,” I remarked, knowing the effect my dad’s loss had on my life. It had made my mom bitter and left a hole in my life that never seemed to be filled.
He cleared his throat, glancing over at me, “My mom left when I was five. It was just me, Cord, and Dad at that point.” He paused, thinking. “Well, and Crew and his mom, but Dad wasn’t with Nina when he died.”
“Crew has a different mother?” I asked in surprise.
He snorted, “Yeah, one of the reasons my mom left Dad.” The truck tires hummed on the road as we coasted down the highway in Deacon’s wake and Creed relaxed. “Crew’s mom is a dancer at the Crazy Horse. Dad hooked up with her when they opened it. He’d already split with Mom by then, but when Crew came along, Mom had enough.”
“She didn’t take you with her?” This blew my mind because I knew my mom would have never left me behind, no matter what the situation was.
“Mom wasn’t really into taking care of us boys. Mary was more of a mother to us than Mom ever was and Dad never would have let her take us anyway,” Creed admitted openly. “We were his boys and that was all that mattered.”
“Who took care of you after he died?”
“Johnny,” Creed answered, shocking me. He caught my look and chuckled. “Yeah, doesn’t seem like something he’d do, I admit, but he and my dad were tight. Johnny would never let us be taken or separated.” My respect for Johnny went up a notch at the knowledge that he’d taken care of Creed and his brother. “Our mom came back after Dad died and wanted to take us, but Johnny fought her and in Friendly, Johnny wins.”
“Friendly?”
Creed shot me an amused look. “The town is named Friendly,” he answered. “You could say Johnny and by extension, the Rebels, own Friendly.” There was a warning in his words, one I knew I should heed. I was allowed in the club by Johnny’s grace and should mind my manners around him.
“So, don’t piss off Johnny,” I muttered under my breath and Creed laughed. I shot him a glance, causing him to laugh harder.
“I think it’s a little late for that,” he informed me and I rolled my eyes. “Johnny’s a hard ass but he has a soft spot for teenage girls.” I stared at him in horror and he rushed to explain. “Not like that! I meant that he won’t stand for anyone hurting you.” I raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “It’s true,” Creed insisted, “Johnny might bark and threaten, but he won’t let anyone do anything to you. You remind him of –” Creed cut off abruptly, his expression shadowed by a sudden grief. He didn’t finish, instead saying, “You can trust Johnny to do the right thing….at least where you’re concerned.” I knew his words were meant to reassure, but I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to me if I didn’t remind Johnny of whoever had caused that grief to flash across Creed’s face.
“Well, I’ll take your word for it,” I finally replied, settling back into the seat for the rest of the drive.
The closer we came to my home, the tighter my chest got until I was afraid I was having a heart attack. My breath came in gasps, my eyes watering as we came to the entrance of the mobile home park I’d called home for the past five years.
“Breathe, Jailbait,” Creed pulled the truck into the driveway, idling, as he rested his hand on my shoulder. “In and out, in and out, one breath at a time.” I focused on his words, only his words, breathing in and out in unison with him until my chest eased and it didn’t feel like I was suffocating
. “Better?” He asked as my expression calmed and I nodded. “Are you up for this?”
I knew if I said no, he’d turn the truck around and leave, no questions asked. I knew he’d bring me back again and again, asking me the same question until I could answer yes and that knowledge was enough to force my head into a nod.
I could do this.
I needed to do this.
I had to do this.
“You let me know at any point if you need a break, a’ight?” My head bobbed and he shook my shoulder gently. “I’m gonna need you to say it, Jailbait.”
“I’ll tell you if I need a break,” I answered dutifully and he released me, easing us forward down the bumpy gravel drive. “217,” I said and he nodded, his eyes scanning the numbers on each trailer as Deacon slowly cruised behind us. When we got to mine, my breath caught. It looked exactly the same as when we’d left and that hurt more than anything. It seemed like it should be different, changed, like I was, but that was dumb. It had only been a couple of days since we’d run with the few things I’d managed to throw in a backpack.
“You got a key?” Creed questioned and I fumbled in my backpack, getting worried when I couldn’t find it. “We don’t need a key, but it might look better if we used one,” he continued conversationally, the sound of his voice calming me further even as he discussed breaking and entering. “I can pick a lock or we can just bust the door in.”
My fingers brushed against metal and I held the key up triumphantly. “Or we could just use the key.”
“See, most girls would be impressed with my bad boy image,” Creed mentioned as we got out of the truck. “You, on the other hand….”
“Who says I’m not impressed?” I tossed over my shoulder as I hurried up the steps to the door, my heart thumping from our light flirtation. My fingers slipped on the knob and it took two tries to get the key in as Creed and Deacon hovered behind me protectively. When I made to open the door, Creed stopped me.
“Let me go in first,” he suggested and I stepped aside. He slid inside, his gaze sweeping the room, before nodding at me. I came in after him, Deacon trailing me.
Jailbait (Southern Rebels MC Book 1) Page 9
