by Bijou Hunter
“When you’re inside me, I know everything will be okay.”
“Stay here tonight,” I say, holding her sweaty body against mine. “We can use the last condom in the morning.”
“I can’t.”
“I’ll lick your pussy again. You liked that.”
“Yes,” she says, smiling softly. “That felt so good. Do it now.”
“Are you sure? If I taste your cunt, I’ll have to fuck you, and we’ll have no more condoms for the morning.”
Yarrow reaches between her legs and sighs. “My pussy hurts a little. I don’t think I want you to lick it. Do you want to fuck my ass instead?”
“We have no lubricant.”
“What’s that?”
Gritting my teeth, I struggle not to imagine how she knows about anal but not lubricant. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t want to fuck your ass. I want to hold you tonight.”
“I can’t sleep here,” she says in a trembling voice. “I’m scared.”
“I know, but I’ll protect you.”
Yarrow sits up. “It’s too dark.”
From her tone, I know there’s no talking her into staying and my attempts are only making her tense again.
“You’re undoing all the fucking,” I say, kissing her while reaching for my shirt. “You were so relaxed. Don’t ruin your good mood by getting scared. You can sleep here another time.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, fighting tears.
“Monkey, I don’t fucking care. I just want you to be happy. If you’re happy sleeping next door, then I’m happy with you sleeping next door.”
Yarrow wipes her wet cheeks and scoots closer. “Will you sleep over there with me?”
Frowning, I slide my shirt over her head. “How’s that gonna work?”
“You can sleep on the couch,” she says, already excited. “And I’ll sleep in my bag on the floor next to you.”
“For fuck’s sake, Yarrow, I don’t want you on the floor,” I mutter.
“I can see you all night,” she says, nearly bouncing on the bed now. “You’ll be right next to me, and I can check on you, and I’ll see you when I wake up.”
“This is what you need?” I ask, yanking on my boxers before searching for sweatpants from the duffle bag I still use as a dresser.
“Yes. I want to be brave, but I’m not ready. It’s too dark here.”
“I know,” I say, kissing her while lifting her out of bed. “Let’s get you dressed then.”
“Why so fast?”
“If you’re naked in my bed, I’ll eventually want to fuck you. I really want to save that condom for the morning. I can’t tell you how much I’d like to fuck you after a hot shower.”
Yarrow giggles until her gaze focuses on the dark bathroom. Nervous now, she dresses quickly and then grips my hand while we head downstairs. She jumps at any floor creak and looks ready to take a shot at the fridge when its condenser fan revs to life. The backyard isn’t much brighter, though there are lights around the gate.
Oz’s place is quiet when we slip inside around one. Yarrow shows me where blankets and pillows are stored downstairs. Her sleeping bag is in the same closet. We set up our makeshift beds and watch each other in the dark room.
“Why are you not scared here in the dark?” I whisper while playing with her hair.
“The cats and the nightlights mostly. The house feels different.”
“It’s lived in. We can make our home feel that way.”
Yarrow watches me for a long time. She finally yawns and caresses my hand resting against her cheek.
“My life is better now because of you,” she says. “That’s why I love you.”
“I love you too, monkey.”
Yarrow smiles as her lids grow heavy. We watch each other until she gives into her fatigue. Once I’m certain she’s sleeping comfortably, I close my eyes too. The couch is comfortable and long enough for me to nearly stretch out completely. Even if it was rock hard and too short for a dwarf, I’d still love spending the night so close to my woman.
I think Oz comes downstairs later, and I might have even told him why I was there. If we did talk, he must have understood why Yarrow needed me close and how I couldn’t deny her. The man might get on my nerves, but there’s no denying he fell hard for Ginger and knows a thing about love.
Chapter Fourteen
Life Lesson #14: laziness is for losers
➸ Blackjack ★
Tana doesn’t believe in throwing anything away that has even the slightest bit of sentimental value. She hasn’t reached the level of Hoarders yet, though I suspect another grandchild ought to do it.
Along with Camo, I carry a couch from the old rental house to the Ford F-150 parked outside. Yarrow follows us, holding a box of knickknacks. When Camo asks her a question, she doesn’t acknowledge his existence. I don’t know why this reaction makes my dick hard, but there it is.
“I need a break,” Camo says after we’ve worked for less than twenty minutes.
“For fuck’s sake,” I growl.
Camo knows I’m planning to smack his head, so he runs. Yarrow appears from the house with another box in her arms. Without ever looking at Camo, she blocks his escape. I grab the blond bitch and slap him around.
“Stop being a lazy fucker.”
“You’re not my dad.”
“I’d never have such a pathetic bitch as my son,” I say, still openhanded slapping him. “Yarrow isn’t too tired to work, and she’s half your size. What the fuck good are all these fucking muscles if you can’t work for a half hour without crying?”
“She’s only carrying boxes. I moved furniture.”
Still holding him by the neck, I kick him in the ass. “Be a fucking man.”
“Dude. Dude. Dude,” Camo says in an increasingly lower voice. “Dude, be cool.”
“Idiot,” I grumble and smack him one last time. “Now get back to moving shit so we can have Tana in her new place by dark.”
“Fine, but you need to learn to control your anger, dude.”
I kick him in the ass as he walks away. “Control that, twat.”
The kid makes me crazy because he could be a solid member, but Camo spends all his time chasing easy women and playing video games. If he put half that effort into handling the meth heads in his territory, we wouldn’t be short most months.
“You bully him like the crew bullies me,” Yarrow says later when we stop to eat burgers.
“They bully you?”
“They don’t want me to end up in jail or dead. They do it for my safety, but it still feels like I’m ganged up on and pushed around.”
“Soon, you’ll live with me, and they’ll have less chance to bully you for your own good.”
“I can’t live there,” she says instantly.
“Yes, you can. You just don’t know it yet.”
“Shut up.”
Grinning, I reach across the table and caress her cheek. She’s still sweaty from the earlier work. My fingers tease her damp hair before arranging it behind her ears.
“I have plans, Yarrow Jones, to make you fall for that townhome in the same way you fell for me.”
“Why won’t you shut up?”
“You sure get bitchy when you’re tired.”
“I wish we could fuck and then I could take a nap. We can’t, though,” she says and sighs sadly. “We have to take care of family because family is important. I learned that a long time ago, but sometimes, I wish I didn’t. Then I could be selfish and do what I want.”
“Yeah, responsibility sucks ass, but I’m too old to pull a Camo move.”
“I’m not.”
“You two are closer in age. Maybe you should fall for him.”
“Okay.”
Yarrow and I share a smile, both knowing I’d beat Camo’s face in if he ever made a move on her. Though they’re immature, Yarrow has an excuse, unlike Camo whose mommy thinks her youngest child hangs the fucking moon. Spoiled, Yarrow is not, and she returns to working at Tan
a’s house without any whining.
“Such a good girl,” Tana coos over Yarrow who smiles immediately.
“I was careful with your photos.”
In my brain, I know Yarrow is too young to be in a relationship. She still craves praise from adults, much like Alani and Makoa. Except Yarrow isn’t a kid, and her dreams are all grown up. She wants a man. She craves a baby, even if she knows she isn’t ready for the constant responsibility. It would be so easy for her to spend a few decades being a child to make up for what she missed. No one would expect her to do anything besides follow around the crew like their kid sister playing tough.
Instead, Yarrow reaches for what she shouldn’t have, and I eagerly go along with what I shouldn’t want.
➸ Yarrow ☆
I don’t know why I expect Tana’s house to look better when we finish moving in all her stuff. It’s still a mess by that evening. Ginger and Oz plan to come back the next few days to help her go through all the boxes and organize everything. I still feel as if I should stay and fix everything tonight.
“You did so much today,” Tana says and hugs me gently.
I crave her hugs a lot more than I should. There’s something immovable about her presence as if she’s weathered so much in life that she’ll never fade away.
Blackjack’s hugs are different, but I crave them too. When we ride back to the townhomes on his Harley, I hold onto him so tight. I hope he holds me the same way once we’re inside.
“You seem weird tonight,” he says after the Harley joins a few others in the parking lot of our complex.
“Change makes me worry. I like the house Tana lived in, and I like the new one. I wish she could live in both of them. I know she can’t, but I feel sad about the old house.”
“It’ll be fine. A new family will move in and make memories. It’s a nice little house, and they’ll take care of all those wild cats.”
Nearing the security gate, I open my mouth to ask if we can get a cat when a loud voice startles me from behind.
“Hey, bitch!”
I don’t know why I turn toward the person yelling the insult. I guess I’ve been called a bitch so much that I always assume the word is directed at me. Blackjack also turns to the voice, so maybe he gets called a bitch too.
“What the fuck do you want?” Blackjack asks the man.
“I wanted to thank the little whore for getting me fired.”
“Who’s that?” I ask Blackjack when he steps closer to me.
His frown makes me think I’m supposed to recognize the drunk asshole stumbling toward us.
“That’s the deputy who arrested you at the park,” he says like I’m dumb.
“Oh, well, I forget what people look like. I didn’t recognize you the first thousand times I saw your face, and you’re really sexy. How am I supposed to remember ugly people?”
“Look who can fucking say something besides her Miranda rights,” the drunk asshole says. “You thought you were so fucking smart, didn’t you, cunt?”
“You got fired because of me?” I ask and start laughing.
The fired deputy’s face twists into a mask of rage, and he runs at me. I don’t have time to reach for my weapons before Blackjack’s fist makes contact with the drunk’s face. Flinching at the sound of bone meeting bone, I step back and stare at how quickly everything changed. One minute, I hear funny news. The next minute, Blackjack is fighting a wino. Clove wasn’t kidding when she said life comes at you fast.
“What did you come here for?” Blackjack hollers in the man’s face before punching him again. “Did you plan to scare her? Insult her? Or did you want to make her pay for your fuck-up? Did you plan to make her bleed?”
Blackjack’s rage scares me. His booming voice echoes in the chilly night. In nearby yards, dogs bark wildly in response. I stand very still, afraid of drawing attention. Then I spot a neighbor across the street from the townhomes. He sees Blackjack pounding the fired deputy, though I doubt he saw minutes earlier when the asshole was throwing punches too. No, he only sees a huge biker beating on a limp man. Will the law come for Blackjack? What if Ginger can’t get the mayor to make the cops let Blackjack go?
Pepper once said there are only two ways to get out of a clear-cut crime. Make it look like an accident or self-defense. Since Blackjack can’t pretend he slipped and punched the guy repeatedly, I know what I need to do.
I turn my back to Blackjack, the bloody guy, and the sounds of sirens. The first time I head-butt the metal fence surrounding the property, I barely feel any pain. I’m too scared of losing Blackjack to feel much of anything. The third headbutt makes me a little dizzy. The fourth gains the notice of Blackjack who grabs me by the shoulders and tugs me away from the gate.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he growls an inch from my face.
“Making it look like I was attacked by the cop.”
Blinking rapidly, I watch the rage leave his eyes. “He’s not a cop anymore.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say and start laughing. “He got fired.”
“Man, you really find that funny,” he says, wrapping me into a hug.
“Yes, don’t you?”
Blackjack looks at the man moaning on the ground and exhales loudly. “No. Nothing about that guy is funny.”
“Can we get a cat?” I ask as the police sirens get louder.
“Let’s get Ginger over here and worry about pets later.”
“Clove is second-in-command and can handle the police,” I say and dial her number. “She left Tana’s before everyone else.”
“Glitch left around the same time. Wonder if either of them is wearing pants right now.”
“They must have had a quickie because she’s already on her way to the gate. See?” I ask, pointing at the figure jogging toward us.
Blackjack relaxes a little once Clove arrives. I ask her about Glitch, but she waves off the question and looks at my forehead. By the time the police arrive, Blackjack is rigid with tension again.
Clove takes charge, telling a believable lie about how the drunken fired deputy attacked me. He slammed my head into the gate over and over until Blackjack saved the day by pounding the asshole’s face. The cops might not believe us, but they don’t take Blackjack away. Instead, they arrest the deputy and stick him in an ambulance. I pretend to be sad while they take pictures of my injuries.
“I was scared,” I say to the deputy with the camera.
“You should go to the hospital too and have your head checked out.”
“No.”
Clove again handles the situation, explaining how I don’t do well at hospitals and they’ll take me to the doctor in the morning. Soon, the sheriff arrives just long enough to look pissed and unconvinced. He doesn’t do anything to Blackjack, though. Clove makes sure of that.
Through the long questioning, I hold onto my man and think about cats and Tana’s old house. I never worry about the fired deputy or the pain in my head. Those problems feel temporary, and I only want to focus on the immovable parts of my life. My fears and worries come and go, but my love for certain people—like the man in my arms— is eternal.
Chapter Fifteen
Life Lesson #15: enjoy the small joys—like cookies
➸ Blackjack ★
My childhood home hasn’t changed much since I was a kid. A few trees are larger, and one is gone completely. The driveway looks recently redone, and the decorative shutters are black rather than green. Otherwise, the house stepped right out of my childhood.
“You were a baby here,” Yarrow says after climbing off my Harley.
“Yeah. I fell out of that tree when I was seven and busted my leg,” I explain and point to the large oak on the right side of the yard. “I used to sit on the sidewalk right here and talk about girls with my friend, Kenny. He owns a shoe shop in Little Rock now. Can’t imagine his business is doing well. Back then, he had braces, and it was my job to tell him when food was stuck in them.”
Yarrow scans the block from one end
to the other before smiling at me. “This was your home.”
“Yes, and I liked it a lot. We had a swing set in the background, and lots of kids would come over to play in the summer. My mom made us Kool-Aid and sandwiches. She was the cool mom in our neighborhood. I remember feeling proud of that. It’s hard to believe I’ve gone so long without seeing her when I used to be a lame little mama’s boy back in the day.”
“Let’s see her now,” Yarrow says, tugging me along. “I want to meet your mom and see pictures of you as a baby.”
Yarrow meeting my parents will either be a godsend or a clusterfuck, though I’m leaning toward the latter. Assuming the worst, I’ve also decided to make changes to the townhome today. Yarrow will either have a good visit with my parents, or she’ll approve of the townhome’s new look. I can’t imagine I’m lucky enough to enjoy both outcomes.
Mom answers the door a second after I knock, and I assume she heard the Harley arrive. I look at her for a moment, taking in all the small changes from when we last stood together like this. She has a few more wrinkles and a different haircut, but I’m surprised to find her looking like the same woman I remember.
“Hey, Mom,” I say and lean down to hug her.
“Billy, you came.”
Sounding genuinely relieved to see me, Mom holds on tight, and I let her. Finally, I remember Yarrow is standing next to me.
“Yarrow, this is my mom, Barbra.”
My mother puts on her best friendly smile while Yarrow smiles like an insane person.
“She’s excited to be here,” I explain to Mom.
“We’re excited to meet her.”
I take Yarrow’s hand and walk into a house that reeks of early 1990s décor. No doubt my sister goes insane whenever she visits. Nothing has been updated in decades.
After taking our jackets, Mom announces, “Will, Billy’s here, and he brought his girlfriend, Yarrow.”
Watching his huge TV, Dad sits with his legs up and a beer nearby. He turns to look at us but doesn’t get up.
