Bouncer (Kings of Carnage Series Book 5)

by Kim Jones

  “Goddammit, Apple.”

  “I’m sorry! But he’s so mean to me.”

  North holds his hand up. “Shut up. Just…shut the fuck up. Take the rest of the week off. Sly will get up with you Friday. We’ll sort this out then.”

  “But I didn’t do anything wrong,” I whine. My head feels a little woozy and I have to focus my eyes to keep from spinning.

  “I like you, Apple. We all do. You get away with a lot of shit around here because we know you don’t mean any harm. But he doesn’t know that. You disrespected him. And he doesn’t do well with that.”

  I blink back tears. “Are you…firing me?”

  “What? No. Just stay out of sight until he’s gone. Okay?”

  I’d nod in agreement, but I might vomit. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “Want me to call you a cab?”

  “No. I’ve got it.”

  North seems unsure, but eventually he nods. “We’ll be in the chapel, so you can wait inside until your ride shows up. It’s fucking freezing out here.” He shivers and moves his hand to my back to escort me in.

  “I’m gonna stay out here. Just until my ride gets here,” I add on a rush. “Might help me sober up a bit.”

  “Fine.” He points his finger at me. “Be good. I’ll see you next week.”

  He disappears inside and I fall back against the door, shame already filtering through my alcohol barrier.

  Well, dumbass. You really did it this time.

  Seven

  BOUNCER

  “What the fuck do you mean you don’t have a background check on her?” I’m out of my seat. Banging my fist on the table. Fucking livid that my brothers don’t have the basic information to do the recon I need.

  “That’s my bad, brother,” Chaos says, speaking up and taking the blame like any good president would. “Didn’t figure we needed one. She’s no threat. And there’s not shit going on here anyway.”

  “She’s weird, but she’s good for the house,” Jinx chimes in. “She doesn’t try to fuck anybody. And she’s not the type any of us want to fuck, either.” I notice Bash nod his head in agreement. North is the next to speak on her behalf.

  “I think she’s funny. Last week she told one of the hang-arounds that if he shaved the bottom of his feet his pubes would fall out.”

  They all laugh.

  I grow more pissed by the second.

  “I don’t like fucking germs.” I turn to Sly and he stares back at me, unfazed by my anger. “She keeps this place clean. Never missed a day of work. Never bitched about the mess. She drinks a lot, but who around here doesn’t?”

  I close my eyes and take a breath in an attempt to check my anger. “Does anybody know anything about this girl? Other than she’s a good cleaner? And a heavy drinker? And unfuckable?”

  Everyone looks at each other.

  “Sly, you pay her. Is it in cash?”

  He nods.

  Fuck.

  “Jinx, you picked her up. Was it at her house?”

  “Nope. She was at four points. Wearing a hiking pack. Figured she was homeless.”

  “So where does she live now?”

  He shrugs. “Fuck if I know.”

  “Does she have a phone? A boyfriend? A car? Friends? What about family? I mean, she’s here every fucking day. You have to know something.”

  Silence.

  Bash clears his throat. “There is one thing.” Finally. “She told me she used to live with her father on a boat. But it wrecked when she was a kid. She survived and they put her in an orphanage for girls. She escaped around fourteen and lived in an abandoned house. Said the next-door neighbors had kids who would sneak her food and shit.”

  “She told me her dad was an inventor,” Jinx says. “Said he let her and her brother kinda do what they wanted. He invented some kind of car he was famous for.”

  North drums his hands on the table. “Yeah, I remember her telling me something about being an army brat? She was in an all-girls school. But when her dad died in service, they couldn’t afford tuition, so she worked at the school as a maid or some shit. But turns out her dad was actually alive—”

  “For fuck’s sake!” I kick my chair and it crashes to the floor behind me. “Those are fucking movie plots. She’s not Pippi Longstocking. Her dad is not Dick Van Dyke. And she sure as fuck ain’t Shirley Temple from The Little Princess.”

  Chaos stands and places his hand on my shoulder. “Brother, we know she’s not. She gave all of us bullshit stories. Just because she’s hiding from a past she wants to forget. Doesn’t mean she’s here to infiltrate the club. You don’t trust her. I get that. We respect that.”

  “Which is why I sent her away.” North ignores Sly’s groan at his announcement. “She disrespected you. That’s not acceptable.”

  Sly straightens. “She what?”

  North shakes his head. “I handled it. It’s done.”

  I should feel better.

  Why the fuck don’t I?

  “Good. Now can we move past this bitch and get back to business?” Bash asks, as serious as ever.

  I try to focus on what they’re saying. But I can’t. I’m pissed at myself for second guessing my gut. Because now my gut is telling me there is something about this girl, but it has nothing to do with her past or her disrespect.

  What the fuck am I missing?

  Church ends and I spend the rest of my night alternating between smoking Apple out of my head and scanning the faces of women in search of my mystery girl from last night. It’s late when I stumble to bed. The scent of the girl still surrounds me. I want to find her. The idea of asking my brothers about her makes me nauseous. The last thing I need is those nosey fuckers in my business. But I’m getting desperate.

  My mind won’t quiet.

  My brain won’t stop.

  Who is she?

  Where is she?

  And why the fuck am I still thinking about Apple?

  Eight

  BOUNCER

  “This place is a fucking wreck.” I don’t miss Sly’s pointed look at me as he stomps through the scattered beer cans to sit at the only spot at the bar that is somewhat clean. “And it smells like a fucking fart, too.”

  He’s not lying.

  It’s been three days since Apple has been here and Sly’s not the only one who seems annoyed at her absence. North hasn’t even been around since she left—choosing to hang out at the strip club instead. Chaos and Bash are in shit moods but try to pretend they don’t give a shit either way. And Jinx claims he’s too busy playing with his sweet submissive girlfriend to come around. I hope that’s the real reason he hasn’t invited me to the kink club we both frequent, and not because he’s pissed at me over Apple.

  Even Cassie walks in pinching her nose. When she tells me it’s my fault the place looks like this, I shoot her a look and place my hand on the buckle of my belt. She flushes, drops her eyes and wisely leaves the room.

  “Here’s an idea,” I say to Sly, my own frustration clear about the mess and my no-show mystery girl. “Why don’t you call Apple and tell her to come back to work?” I snap my fingers. “Oh. That’s right. You fucking can’t. Because she’s the only female in Uprising we don’t have information on.”

  “I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so fucking sensitive.”

  Jinx walks up and starts messing with the coffee pot. “Someone’s grumpy.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Jinx. Nobody asked you,” I snap.

  He grins. “You missing the girl too?”

  “Hell no…at least not Apple, anyway.” I immediately regret the words as soon as I say them. And to add injury to insult, North just walked in.

  “What girl you missing, then?”

  Fuck it.

  I look at North, but I can feel Sly and Jinx’s eyes on me. “You remember when I got here the other night and my room was locked?” North nods. “Well, someone was in there. A girl. I never got her name. She stayed the night, but she was gone when I got out of the shower this mor
ning.”

  “Wait,” North says, holding his hand up. “You slept with her? And you didn’t know her name?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Yeah. It is the point. I know you. You don’t fuck with any bitch unless you know the last four of her social and her mother’s maiden name.”

  And this is why I keep to myself.

  “Well what did she look like?” Sly asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Not sure. It was dark.” My tone is clipped. I hate I’m even talking about this. Am I really that desperate? “Look, do y’all have any idea who she is or not?”

  “I think I do.” We all look to Jinx. But he’s turned his back to us. “And before you lose your shit, this is all on me.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stands up. “Why would I lose my shit?”

  I lose my shit.

  “Fuck! Did I sleep with someone’s Ol’ Lady? How old was she? Don’t you fucking tell me it was one of y’all’s sisters…Jinx. Fucking look at me.”

  Jinx finally meets my eyes and I swear the asshole is trying to fight a smile. “For you, Brother, it’s worst case scenario.”

  I still. I can feel the blood draining from my face. “It was an Ol’ Lady, wasn’t it?”

  “It was Apple.”

  I just stare at him. That’s…No. What?

  I’m still trying to figure out if he’s fucking with me or not when he continues. “I didn’t see you that night. I slipped out the back. But before I did, I found Apple on the floor of the bathroom. She’d been puking her guts out. I put her in your room figuring you wouldn’t stay because of the party.”

  I shake my head. “That’s impossible.”

  Isn’t it?

  “It was Apple.”

  “The fuck it was!”

  “I’m telling you,” he lowers his glasses and looks me dead in the eye, “it was Apple.”

  “There’s no motherfucking way that girl was Apple. She was sweet. And sexy. And submissive. She sure as hell wasn’t that loud, obnoxious bitch I wanted to choke out from the moment I met her.”

  He slides his glasses back over his eyes. “It was Apple.”

  “Stop. Fucking. Saying. That.”

  Apple is…petite.

  Wears oversized clothes to hide her body.

  Has dark hair.

  Smells like….

  “Motherfucking fruity vanilla shit…” I’m talking to myself. Ignoring the chuckles from Sly and the full-blown belly laugh from North. I give Jinx one last pleading look.

  “Sorry, Bro. But it was—”

  “Don’t, Jinx. Fucking…don’t.”

  He shrugs. Lifts his cup to his mouth to take a sip, but pauses at the last second. “Apple.”

  Motherfuckingshitgoddamnit.

  I storm outside and walk around the back of the clubhouse, my rage so thick it clouds my vision. I don’t even know who I’m mad at. Myself for not figuring it out? My brothers for knowing? Apple for….

  She knew.

  She fucking knew. She found out the day North told her my name. She knew that room was the Nomad’s room. And when she figured out that Nomad was me, she kept it from me.

  “Dammit!” I lean up against the back of the building, trying to sort through my anger.

  When that familiar feeling of a panic attack threatens to take over, I crouch down with my elbows on my knees and breathe through it. The cold air burns my lungs, but I welcome the pain. The idea that there’s still a chance it wasn’t her is the only thing that helps me regain some semblance of normalcy.

  Something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. I try to ignore it, but my mind won’t let it go. Frustrated, I glance over at the cord plugged into the outlet. It would go unnoticed by most, but unfortunately, I notice everything.

  There’s nothing that requires electricity out here. I look around the back yard and into the woods surrounding the clubhouse and don’t see anything that it connects to. I walk over and grab the cord. It’s buried an inch under the ground. I pull it up, following its path that leads to the back of the yard. When I near the edge of the woods, I find it connected to another extension cord.

  I should get my Brothers.

  I should warn them about this.

  But there’s no time.

  Now that I know it’s here, I have to see where it leads.

  About two hundred feet into the woods, I see it’s hooked into another cord. I pull it from the soft ground, keeping my eyes peeled for anything that looks out of the ordinary. I notice a trip wire with a tiny bell tied to it. I step over it and around another one. I’m nearly on the campsite before I see it—it’s camouflaged that well.

  Pulling my gun from my back, I take cautious steps toward the tent disguised in limbs and natural debris. The pine needles offer a thick ground covering so every step is silent. I locate the entrance and ease back the curtain.

  There’s an army cot, a small heater, a milk crate filled with clothes, a lamp and bucket of water. There’s a steady hum coming from the heater, but the space is almost as cold as it is outside. Whoever is sleeping here is pretty fucking miserable. My instincts tell me they’re not a threat. But I’ve been wrong too much lately to fully trust myself.

  When I spot a bottle of lotion next to the cot, I know instantly who it belongs to. And I don’t have to smell it to know it’s scent.

  Fruity vanilla.

  And there’s only one person who smells like that.

  My mystery girl.

  My one-night stand girl.

  Now I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Jinx was right.

  It was Apple.

  Nine

  APPLE

  I’m going to fucking die.

  If the cold doesn’t kill me, my own embarrassment will. Every time I think of how I acted at the clubhouse shame fills me. I can’t believe I flipped off Bouncer. I can’t believe I could be so disrespectful to him—to anybody. I know better.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Severe upper respiratory infection and pneumonia, according to my visit to the E.R. this morning. Good news is I tested negative for that virus floating around. So my choice was to either stay at the hospital and have a greater chance of getting it or resting at home and taking antibiotics.

  I chose the latter.

  Probably should’ve took the risk of getting infected. Because though I’d planned to stay in a hotel, the decision to trek back to my home in the woods to get my stuff was a stupid one. No way would I have the energy to walk back to the road to get a cab.

  I’m going to die out here.

  And probably never be found.

  My house comes into view and I’ve never been happier to see the shabby, cold, strange-critter-infested-triangle-of-canvas in my life. Why in the hell did I think it was a good idea to put it so far away from…everything?

  Because you don’t want to be found, idiot.

  I stumble into the tent and toss my backpack to the floor. The door, a simple flap of nearly threadbare material, is secured by three strips of Velcro. My fingers are shaking so bad, it takes me several tries on the first one. By the time I get to number three, I’m frustrated and near tears.

  It’s cold.

  So cold.

  I hurt.

  Everywhere.

  Each breath is pure agony. And I can’t feel my fingers or my toes.

  You deserve this.

  That’s why you’re here.

  I press my palm to my forehead and apply pressure until the thoughts start to disappear. But in their place is this eerie feeling that someone is watching me. My space feels crowded. I swear I can sense the presence of someone else. But I’m not scared. Probably because there’s no room for fear with how terrible I already feel.

  Hell, maybe they’ll put me out of my misery.

  With one hand on the metal frame for balance, I turn to face the culprit sitting on my bed. For some reason, I’m not the least bit surprised to see it’s Bouncer. So
mething inside me knew who it was before I even looked.

  Great. Now I’m crazy.

  “What do you want?” I ask, too tired to fight. Or be angry. Although I’m sure he’ll draw it out of me soon enough.

  “I want to know why the fuck you’re stealing from my club.”

  Wait.

  What?

  I draw in a deep, disbelieving breath at his accusation. The cold air burns my lungs and I cough for what feels like forever before I finally manage to speak. “Excuse me?”

  His brows furrow as he studies me. I think I see a hint of concern, but he quickly conceals it. Or maybe I just dreamed it. “This is club property.”

  “I have squatters rights.”

  “That’s not even a thing,” he huffs. “Even if it was, you’re still stealing electricity.” He holds up the end of the extension cord between two fingers. I groan.

  “Do you have any idea how long it took me to bury that thing?”

  “Then you admit it. You’re stealing.”

  My eyes roll and a dizzy spell hits me. Thankfully, I’m still holding onto the frame. “You wouldn’t believe the shit I clean in that clubhouse. We’ll call me running a tiny, energy efficient heater severance pay.”

  He doesn’t argue. Just stares at me like I have a hoof growing out of my forehead. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Really? This shit again? I don’t know, Bouncer. I’m fucked up in the head, okay? I have issues. And a small drinking problem.” He lifts a brow. “Or a big drinking problem. But I drink to forget, and it works for me and I’m sorry I was ugly to you the other day, but please, can we do this some other time?”

  Another thirty million years of silence passes before he speaks. “Why do you look like that?”

  The urge to cry is strong. I pinch my eyes shut and shake my head. I mean, could he be a bigger asshole? Because I don’t think it’s possible. “Shitty genes? Terrible diet? It could be a number of things.” I wish I wasn’t so tired. Maybe then I’d have a better comeback. Some snarky remark that belittles him like he’s belittling me. But at this point, I just don’t have the energy.