F*CKER

by Amo Jones

  I was in the kitchen cooking when Indie came home from work, shutting the front door behind herself. Walking into the kitchen, she let out an appreciative moan. “Mmm, what’re you cooking?”

  I smiled, pouring red wine into the pot. “Spaghetti Bolognese.”

  “Yum,” she answered, pulling the bar stool out. “But you only ever cook when you’re about to tell me something that’s going to make me sad, so spill.”

  I put down the wooden spoon and wiped my hands on the dishcloth. “Okay. I’m going back to San Diego tomorrow, just until I figure out my next move.” Indie’s bottom lip pouted and I laughed, picking up the salt grinder, adding more into the sauce.

  “I guess I knew this was coming, so I’m not that shocked.”

  I nodded. “Yes, I guess so.”

  “What about Ryker?” she asked. “Leo said something about them working on a new album?”

  “Oh, really?” I answered, maintaining my stirring. “And I’m not sure about Ryker.”

  She pushed off the kitchen island, walking toward me. “Well, as long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

  “You left that biker alone?”

  “What? What biker?”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Okay, I maybe stalked him on Facebook.”

  “And?”

  “And there’s not much on there. It’s probably a lost cause. Maybe I should just have Connor’s babies.”

  I laughed, placing the lid back on the pot. “They’d be some hot babies though.”

  “Leave my sperm alone.” Connor smirked, walking into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge, and taking out a beer.

  Indie tilted her head, scanning him up and down. “Well, you’re a good lay, so that’s a bonus.”

  His head jerked back, the rim of his bottle raised to his lips. “Fuck no, Indie. That ship sailed. You took too long.”

  She laughed as he walked back into the living room. Her laughter stopped instantly once he was out of earshot. “I wonder if he’s serious.”

  “Connor?” I called out to him.

  “Yo?” He slumped into one of the recliners.

  “You do realize you just made the chase so much more interesting for her, right? Better lock your bedroom door from now on.”

  “Was counting on it,” he answered, and I laughed. Of course he was.

  After dinner, Indie and I crawled up the stairs and I got into bed. I was plugging my phone into the charger when a message dinged, lighting up the dark room.

  “No sexting with me in bed, whore,” Indie grumbled, pulling the covers back before climbing in.

  I rolled my eyes. “I doubt that.”

  Swiping my phone open, I saw it was from Ryker and fireworks erupt inside of me.

  Ryker: Ur time’s up.

  Me: Not yet. I’m going back to San D tomorrow.

  Ryker: Can I come?

  Me: Ur trial, u should really stay put.

  Ryker: No big deal. I’m not going to trial.

  Me: What? Why?

  Ryker: I’m getting a slap on the wrist, parole & all that shit.

  Me: Oh ok. You guys working on the album as well?

  Ryker: Yeah, almost done for the night.

  Me: And u want to come?

  Ryker: Ur testing my strength.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Me: Back home, Ryker. Fucking hell.

  Ryker: Yeah, for sure. We can stop and see my aunt.

  Me: OK. I’ll meet u there?

  Ryker: No, I’ll pick u up tomorrow morning.

  Me: OK, but this isn’t an invitation.

  Ryker: Not that I need 1.

  I rolled my eyes again, shutting off my screen and placing it back on the bedside table.

  “Everything okay?” Indie asked from her side of the bed.

  I rolled onto my stomach, shoving my hands under my pillow to get comfortable.

  “I hope so.”

  We were at the studio we had set up in Westbeach when I shoved my phone back into my pocket after texting Bryleigh. My knee jiggled in frustration, and when Ryder came into the sound room, he raised his eyebrows at me in question.

  “What?” I snapped, and he threw his hands up.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  I sighed, sliding down my seat a bit more and stretching my legs out wide. “I don’t know what she wants from me.”

  Ryder chuckled, taking a seat next to me with Leo on the other side and Tommy beside him.

  “That’s you guys’ thing though, the whole chase,” Leo said, flicking a pen around in his hand. Anyone could point out he was the drummer.

  “Yeah, well, the chase has made me fucking tired. I just wanna fuck her for weeks on end. She feeds her body to me like I’m a fucking bird, breaking off pieces and finger-feeding it to me. It’s torture.”

  Ryder laughed, throwing his hoodie over his head. “Does she know about Jaded?”

  “What?” I asked. “No, fuck no.”

  “Are you going to tell her that you wrote it?” Tommy asked from next to me.

  “Again, no.”

  “Why?” they all asked together.

  “Because I didn’t write it to get back into her pants—unlike some people.” I looked pointedly at Ryder, meaning his weak-ass move with “White Tiger.” “I wrote it because it’s what came to me when I was locked up.”

  “She’s going to know it was you eventually,” Leo added, taking a drink of his water.

  “No she’s not. She doesn’t listen to our music.”

  “You and Ryder sure know how to pick them,” Tommy laughed.

  “I didn’t pick her. She picked me. I had no say in the matter. My heart loved her and my dick was obsessed with her. The combination of the two was earth-shattering. I was fucked the minute I laid my eyes on her ass.”

  They all laughed. “Still got that ass,” Leo agreed, his eyes drifting off.

  I looked at him, kicking his shin with my foot. “My girl’s ass doesn’t belong in your brain, dick.”

  He smiled, nodding his head. “Maybe, but she’s not your girl yet.”

  “Fuck you, she’s always been mine.”

  I was shoving things into my bag when Indie walked into the room, leaning on the doorframe and eating spoonful after spoonful of her granola.

  “You know that’s breakfast food, right?” I said to her, with a cocked eyebrow.

  “You haven’t lived if you haven’t had breakfast food when it’s not breakfast.”

  I laughed, walking into her walk-in closet and taking out my shoes.

  “I thought those were mine?” She pointed to the nude pumps in my hand.

  “No, you borrowed them for so long that you forgot they belonged to me.”

  She plonked down onto the bed. “Are you okay with him coming with you?”

  I nodded, zipping up my bag. “Yeah, it’ll give us space away from all the bullshit. Whatever the hell this is, it will be clear after this week.”

  “Sounds like a lot of sex.”

  I laughed. “No, no sex.”

  “This time, say it again with a bit of meaning, and then maybe I’ll believe you,” she muttered around a mouthful of her granola.

  We both laughed as I slung the strap of my bag over my shoulder and walked downstairs. A loud knock sounded on the door, and I swung it open to Ryker flinging keys around in his fingers, this time dressed in appropriate clothes. Hot clothes. His loose dark jeans hung off him nicely, his white high-tops on his feet, and his black leather jacket sat over a white plain t-shirt.

  “Hi! I’m ready. Are we taking your car?” I asked. Indie and I went back to get my car from the basketball court last night, but it made me realize how right he was. The car reminded me of Todd, and I planned on doing a trade in, maybe getting something a little smaller, or bigger, depending on how extravagant I was feeling. I hated to use my trust fund account, but the money was just sitting there, and I was sure my mom and dad wouldn’t mind if I dished out a little, since I hardly did.
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br />   “Yeah,” he said, hooking his fingers around mine, setting off a jolt of electricity between each other. He pulled me toward him, wrapping his arms over my shoulders. “We need to get rid of that R8.”

  His smell, leather mixed with some expensive cologne and fresh soap, conquered my senses and I relaxed in his grip. After all these years, he could still bring me this kind of solace and peace.

  I pulled away from him reluctantly and nodded. “Yeah, I’m working on that.” He took my bag out of my hands and threw up deuces to Indie. “Laters, mischief.”

  Indie narrowed her eyes on him with a smile. “Why am I named mischief again? You haven’t called me that since we were young.”

  He spun around with a smirk. “Because Frost has been asking about you.” Her face lit up, her shoulders straightening, and I rolled my eyes at how easy she was being.

  “Really?” She couldn’t hide the excitement in her tone if she tried.

  “No, I just wanted to see your reaction.” Ryker laughed at her.

  She flipped him off. “Fuck you, Oakley. Oh! I’ll send you another little video tonight.”

  My eyes widened at her attempts to piss him off, which most of the time was at my expense. “Don’t worry, no pashing in this one.”

  Ryker looked at me, questions laced in his eyes. I shook my head at him, gripping the passenger door of his Porsche before climbing in, ignoring their pissing contest. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Indie had bigger balls than most men.

  He climbed in, starting the car, and it purred to life. I decided that I wanted one.

  “How much was this?” I asked, running my hand over the leather dash.

  He smirked. “I don’t know. I just bought it and gave it to Phoebe to do what she pleased with it. Why?”

  I smiled at him as he pulled out of the driveway. “I want one. A white one though.”

  He laughed. “That could be arranged.”

  ***

  The drive back to San Diego was long. Too long. Especially for a three-hour drive. There was a pile-up on the highway that caused major traffic delays, but also gave me and Ryker time to talk a little. He was his usual playful self, the person I had fallen for all those years ago. He wanted to know what Croatia was like, and I told him maybe I’d take him there one day. I was sure my aunt would just love to meet the man who caused me so many tears.

  She’d kill him, no question about it.

  He told me about the new album the band was working on and how it’s ranging for a broader audience by doing a collaboration with some famous hip-hop artist. We talked a little about Frost, and it turned out he wasn’t joking about him asking about Indie. He said that it was a casual ‘what’s her story?’ but that it was the most Frost had ever given shits about before. Ryker had become close to him in the short space he was locked up and he said he’d promised Frost we’d stop in to Vegas on the way home and see him. I pointed out it was a five-hour drive in the opposite direction, but he insisted it’d be good for us to roadtrip it anyway.

  We were pulling into my family home when I turned in my seat to face him. The memories of being back at this house, with him, came crashing into me, surfacing emotions I had worked years and years to quash by practicing yoga.

  “Why’d you do it?” I asked him absently.

  “Do what?” he replied, his head tilted back and his eyes watching me carefully from the side.

  “Why’d you spread those rumors about me?”

  He sighed, taking my hand in his after he pulled up the emergency brake. “I didn’t know what I was doing. All I knew was I had almost killed a kid for simply touching you. I knew that as long as you were in my life, I was a risk to myself, Ryder, and to the boys. We would’ve never gotten the chances we have. That’s not on you, and I’m not blaming you. It’s on me. That side of me is still there, Bry. I’m a fucking predator when it comes to you. It’s an unbalanced feeling, but I’m old enough now to know I’ll fight for you, for us. I’ll try to sort out my issues, but I need you with me.”

  I smiled. “I’ve always loved you. You know that, right?” I asked, tears pooling behind my eyes.

  He ripped my belt off, picking me up and pulling me over his lap, moving his seat back to give us more room. He pushed my hair away from my face. “There was not a day that passed where I didn’t think about you, Bry. Ever.”

  I tapped his leg. “Let’s go. Mom and Dad will be wondering what we’re doing.”

  After we pulled our bags out, we walked up to the front door, where Pauline swung it open with a huge smile on her face. “Bebe!” She pulled me in for a hug before pushing me away, keeping her hands wrapped around my upper arms. Tears came down her face. “Don’t you ever go that long between visits again.”

  I laughed. “Sorry, Paul, but it hasn’t been that long. Only ten months.”

  She smacked my arm. “Ten months is too long.” She looked at Ryker and nodded. “Hello, Ryker. Look at how big you are now.”

  “What?” He smirked. “I’ve always been big, Pauline. Might be time to get those glasses upgraded.”

  She rolled her eyes, pulling us inside and closing the door behind me. “Your parents are outside by the pool, doing the barbecue. The pool house is still the same. I’ll put your stuff in there.”

  She started to reach for our bags, when I swatted her hand away. “We can do it, Paul. Go and get us some strong drinks. It’s been a long trip.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  I looked at Ryker to find his eyes zoned in on me. “What?” I asked, with a shy smile. My cheeks flushed at the glare he was giving me. I was doomed; there was totally going to be a lot of sex during this trip.

  “Nothing.” He shook his head, placing his hand in mine before we made our way out to the pool. The house was still the same, only televisions had gotten bigger, appliances newer, and it looked like Mom had redecorated the sitting room that led out to the pool through the large open doors. We walked out, hand-in-hand, to Dad starting the barbecue and Mom sitting at the wooden table, sipping on her margarita. She pushed off her seat and walked toward Ryker and me with her arms stretched wide. “How are my two favorite people?”

  I smiled, falling into her loving arms. “Hi, Mom.” She let me go and pulled Ryker in for a hug, who picked her up and swirled her around. “Hey, Mrs. M, you’re looking fine, woman. Hope the old man has been hitting it right.”

  “Ryker!” I scolded.

  My mom waved his comment away, a bright red blush spreading out across her cheeks. I wanted to slap her stupid. “Oh, Ryker,” she giggled like a school girl. “You might need to go and help him with that barbecue though.”

  Ryker spun around, watching my dad with half his body underneath the grill, probably still oblivious we were here. Ryker laughed. “Still can’t cook for shit, huh?”

  Mom chuckled, taking a seat back in her spot. “Still can’t cook for shit,” she confirmed.

  Ryker pulled me in for a hug, kissing my head softly before bending down to my ear, and whispering, “Can’t wait to eat that pussy like the old days in that pool house.”

  My face stilled with my eyes widening. I slapped his arm. “Go help Dad before he blows us all up.”

  I took a seat opposite Mom as Pauline came out with a jug of my favorite poison: margaritas.

  “Yum, thanks, Paul.”

  She placed the jug down with a tray of glasses, throwing me an evil glare. I missed teasing her with her name. It always got her hackles up.

  “So,” I said, pouring the slushy into my glass and leaning back into my chair, taking the first sip. “How’s everything been here since Todd?”

  Mom smiled, taking another long drink of her margarita. “It’s been good, too good. It seems you’ve earned a lot of sympathy. It’s worked for your father, though he doesn’t want to win the election this way.”

  “It was him who always said a win is a win, wasn’t it?” I asked, and she nodded with a smile.

  “I guess.”

  “We
ll, I’d be happy for someone to get something out of it.”

  She placed her glass down. The fairy lights that hung outside were solar-powered, so when they lit up softly, it was an indication that darkness was about to set in. “You and Ryker?”

  I smiled, turning over my shoulder to watch him and my dad laughing and cooking at the barbecue. “Yeah, I guess we’re figuring all that out.”

  “That’s good. You and Ryker were made for each other, Bebe. You were cut from each other. We all knew that.”

  “Mom? That’s a little scary.”

  She laughed, pouring more margarita into her glass. “You know what I mean. He’s dangerous when it comes to you though. You will need to get a handle on that temper.”

  “He’s dangerous with other people when it comes to me. He’ll be fine,” I corrected.

  “That’s what I meant. He’d gut a pig if it oinked at you in a sleazy way.”

  I burst out laughing, my hand flying to my mouth to cover any drink from escaping before swallowing the icy slush in one gulp, the cold stab going straight to my head. “Mom! Pigs cannot oink in a sleazy way!”

  “Well, if they could… you know what I mean.” She giggled just as my dad and Ryker walked up to the table, putting the tray of cooked meat down. My dad bent and kissed my head softly, placing his hand on my shoulder.

  I patted his hand. “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Hi, baby. How was the trip?” he asked, taking a seat beside my mother as Pauline brought out salad bowls and bread rolls.

  “It was long. There was an accident on the highway, so we were going like one mile per hour.”

  “Oh, that’s not good. Ryker was saying you want to trade in the R8?” he asked, piling his plate with meat. My dad had aged a lot since I was a kid, but he still maintained a fit lifestyle. Mom was the same; she had aged too, but instead of her living a fit life, she lived a wino life. It hadn’t been a problem, her drinking, so I never felt like I needed to say anything to her.

  “Yeah, I need to,” I said, picking up a sausage and bringing it to my mouth, knowing Ryker’s eyes were watching me from the side. I slowly bit down on the tip, my lips wrapping around the hot, juicy meat. His legs jolted beside me as he readjusted himself.

  “Mmm,” I said, bringing my finger deep into my mouth before looking into Ryker’s now dark eyes dead on, and slowly pulling my finger out with a pop. “Good, huh?”