Shane
“Oh my God. What a fucking bitch!”
At Farah’s unexpected and out-of-character outburst, the sip of iced tea I’d just taken went down the wrong pipe and I proceeded to choke.
“Look what you did,” Wynn said in a scolding tone while beating on my back. “You’re such a priss that when you drop the F and the B bomb in one sentence, you make your friend asphyxiate.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” Farah threw back, not sounding sorry at all. “But I felt the situation warranted it.”
I couldn’t say I disagreed with her. The past couple weeks had been chaotic with the move and engagement and everything, and I hadn’t made enough room for my friends. Now everything was settling down. Brantley, Jensen, and I were officially living under the same roof. I had my big ring—that was awesome. All of our stuff had been unpacked, and while I hadn’t had the time to go on a furniture shopping spree yet, Farah and I already had a trip to Nashville penciled in for the following week. My kid was at his Mother’s Day Out class, so I was having lunch with Poppy, Farah, and Wynn so we could all catch up.
They’d oohed and aahed over my ring and celebrated my engagement for the better part of a half hour. Then, with all the good covered, I’d filled them in on the not-so-plesant aspects of us having found our way back to other, including the shit with his parents, both past and present, and that was what set Farah off. Our sweet friend was so even-keeled and polite that hearing those words come out of her mouth was shocking.
“Bet this is Cannon’s doing,” Poppy teased, pointing at Farah. “This is what happens when a socialite marries a tattooed biker. Next thing you know, she’ll be getting tattoos just because he’s covered in them.”
“Oh! I almost forgot. I already got one! See?” She lifted the hem of her shirt and pulled the waistband of her shorts down an inch so we could see the whimsical, brightly-colored hummingbird she had inked into her hip. The tattoo made perfect sense since Cannon’s nickname for her was hummingbird. “Isn’t it pretty?” she asked with a beaming grin. “And it didn’t hurt at all!”
“I don’t even recognize you anymore,” Wynn joked, shooting a wink across the table to Farah.
“Well, I love it. And I kind of want to get another. But we aren’t here to talk about me and my badass, sexy-as-hell husband. We’re here to talk about Shane and Jensen’s Hallmark-movie-level romance.”
“I don’t know if I’d consider it Hallmark-movie level,” Poppy said. “With the drama and evil parents it seems more Lifetime-Movie-Network level.”
Farah cut her eyes to Poppy. “Anyway. As I was saying before we got completely off track, his dad’s a crooked bastard and his mom’s an evil bitch. They’re so bad they give my own parents a run for their money.”
That was really saying something since Farah’s parents were complete slime. Not only had they neglected Farah all her life, when she’d been attacked and nearly died, they’d insinuate it had been her fault. She moved here to escape them and that life, and not long after, her brother Jase followed. When he married and fell for Poppy—in that order—they’d reared their ugly heads once again and had Poppy kidnapped by a hitman, trying to force Jase into paying them the ransom.
When it came to who had the worse parents, Jase and Farah or Jensen, I wasn’t sure who’d come out the winner—or, more aptly, the loser—in that competition.
“I’ve hated that woman since the first time I met her,” I announced. “Jensen hadn’t given me the whole ugly story yet, but I knew from just seeing her that there was something seriously off. Then, when he told me how she used to just stand by when his dad would beat him, I wanted to track her down and scratch her eyes out.”
Farah looked at me with sadness in her eyes. “His dad used to beat him?”
“And worse,” I admitted, feeling my heart break all over again. I still remembered all the horror stories he’d shared with me to this day, in vivid detail. Just thinking about it turned my stomach. What my man had lived through and suffered at their hands, it was a wonder he came out of it at all. Whitman and Cordelia were the absolute worst kinds of people. I shared some of it with these women I was as close to as blood, including how he’d shown up on my doorstep when he’d been eighteen years old, beat to hell and hardly conscious, but kept the worst of it to myself. Still, it was enough for my friends to have the same heartbreaking reaction I had when I first heard the truth of it all.
“Oh my God,” Poppy covered her mouth with her hand as her big blue eyes shined with unshed tears.
“She just stood there and let it happen,” I continued. “Which, in my opinion is even worse than the monster inflicting the pain. It wasn’t that she was scared for herself, it was that she didn’t care. He was her son and she didn’t care what happened to him just as long as her husband continued to treat her like a princess.”
“You should do it,” Wynn said in an adorable little growl, her violet eyes narrowed into slits. “You should track that bitch down and totally scratch her eyes out. It’s the least she deserves.”
“You know, that’s not a bad idea, actually,” Poppy mused.
We all whipped around in her direction. “You’re joking, right?” I cried. “I can’t just go hunt the woman down and beat the shit out of her.”
“Maybe not beat the shit out of her, but you could confront her. I mean, isn’t that basically what she did to you? She tracked you to a grocery store—which, by the way is totally creepy—so she could confront you. You’d just be doing the same thing. Rub her face in it that her son’s happy now. That’s what they were always trying to take from him anyway. There’s nothing bitter, miserable people hate more than knowing someone else is happier than they are.”
“Or—” Wynn interjected. “We could key her car and slash her tires.”
“You know what? Forget everything I just said. That. What she said.” She pointed to Wynn. “We should do that.”
“Oh my God, you psychos, I’m not going to go vandalize her car.”
“Well this lunch turned out to be a big waste of my time, then,” Wynn grumbled. “So much for best felony friends forever.”
I stared at my friend in open-mouthed stupefaction. “You know, for being such a cute, tiny, pixie-looking thing, you’re actually really terrifying.”
She smiled saucily. “Well thanks, babe. That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Wynn was hilarious and I loved the crap out of her, but I pitied the man who ended up falling in love with her.
Jensen
Walking through the doors of Bad Alibi, the first thing I did was scan the room in search of one person in particular. My eyes found her almost instantly, like they knew exactly where she was. And as if her body recognized mine the very same way, her head came up and turned in my direction. The moment she saw me, her lips spread in a smile that took my breath away at the same time it gave me life.
The bar was packed, so I knew she was busy, but she still took the time to saunter over to me, those hips swaying enticingly, and come up on her toes to plant a kiss on my lips. We’d been living together for two weeks now, my ring on her finger that whole time, and my body still strung tight the moment I saw her after any length of time apart. I wasn’t sure if that feeling was ever going to go away, but I sure as hell hoped it didn’t.
“Hey, bunny,” she purred with a teasing wink.
“Hey, sunshine.”
“You want a beer or a whiskey.”
I looped one arm around her waist and pulled her against me. “Beer tonight. Brant’s stayin’ with your aunt and uncle, so we’ve got the whole night to ourselves once you’re off work. I intend to take advantage of every single second of that time.” I gave her a wink. “Starting with re-christening my truck.”
She did a full body shiver and pressed in deeper. “Sounds like a plan I can get behind. I’ll find you with your drink in just a minute.”
With one last peck, she spun around and started back toward the bar. A
loud, sharp whistle stole my attention off my woman’s ass, and when I turned in the direction it came from, I saw Stone sitting up by the pool tables with Cannon, Cannon’s dad and my old boss, Banks, a buddy of theirs named Clay, and a few others. Stone lifted his large, tattooed arm in the air and waved me over.
I started toward them, trading greetings with people here and there as I passed. Since getting back together with Shane, it was like everything from the past had been forgotten. The community opened their arms and pulled me, Gage, and Laeth in for an enthusiastic embrace. The three of us were no longer outsiders everyone was hesitantly polite to. We were part of the fabric that made Redemption.
I was making my way through the mass of tables and people when a voice spoke up from behind me.
“Well look who it is, Jensen Rose. Surprised to see your pussy-ass came back. Especially after knockin’ up your chick then leavin’ her high and dry.”
I slowly turned to look at the asshole who just spoke, already knowing full well who it was. Time had not been kind to Ronny Culpepper. The former football star was now sporting a beer gut that made him look like he was about nine months pregnant. His hair was thinning on the top in a way that he needed to just cut his losses and shave it off, but instead had let it grow out, giving him an unfortunate mullet. Only his was a party in the back and absolutely nothing up top. It wasn’t a good look. The lines carved deeply into the skin around his eyes and mouth weren’t from laughing, he looked like he was at least ten years older than his age, and on his arm was none other than Rina Martin. Christ, this woman’ll never learn.
“Ronny,” I said amiably, tilting my chin before turning my back on him and continuing toward the pool tables.
“Don’t turn your back on me, asshole.” He gave my shoulder a shove, rocking me forward just a bit. Pulling in a calming breath, I stopped and looked back at him without a shred of emotion on my face. I knew what this fucker was doing, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was playing into his shit. “Who the fuck you think you are? Just ’cause everyone else here thinks your shit don’t stink doesn’t make it so. You were a pussy-whipped bitch back in school and you’re still a pussy-whipped bitch now.”
Instead of giving him the reaction he wanted, I chuckled. “Any man in his right mind lands himself a woman like Shane Hendrix, he’ll gladly be pussy-whipped. It’s worth it.” I cast my gaze to Rina for all of a second. “Might wanna consider tossing that one back and give it a shot.”
“Kick his ass, Ronny,” Rina hissed through her lipstick-smudged teeth.
“Bet I could,” he said with a grin that showed he was in serious need of dental work. “Just like I kicked his ass back in high school.”
“Shut the fuck up, Ronny,” someone in the crowd shouted. “Everyone knows Jensen beat the shit outta you back then, so just sit your fat ass down!”
“What the fuck’s goin’ on over here?”
Stone appeared at my side, and it was like Rina had just laid her eyes on a wagyu steak. She batted her lashes, making her mascara flake and fall off. “Hey, Stone.”
He didn’t bother hiding his disdain as he looked her over, his top lip curled up in disgust the whole time. “’Sup,” was all he offered before turning his attention to Ronny, who—at the big man’s sudden appearance—was now rethinking his plan to fuck with me.
“You were saying?” I asked Ronny, my expression conveying just how amused I was feeling. I’d never had so much trouble hiding a smile. “I think it was somethin’ about being able to kick my ass?”
Stone let out a loud guffaw, looking at me with bewilderment. “This pencil dick said he could kick your ass?” He laughed again. “Ah, fuck man. That’s great. I needed a laugh.”
Before I could say anything, Shane snaked up against my side and looped her arm through mine. When I tipped my head down to meet her gaze I saw the worry swimming in her eyes. “Hey,” she said softly. “You good?”
I smiled down at her and gave her the truth. “I’m great, sunshine.” And it was the truth. Back in the day, the only person who could push me to losing it worse than Ronny was Whitman Rose. But standing there now, with my woman at my side, my son safe with people who loved him, surrounded by good people and friends, the man in front of me barely registered. “You take my beer over to the pool tables?”
She slowly grinned, reading my eyes and knowing I was going to be just fine. I didn’t have a reason to be angry about anything, not when my life was so goddamn good. “Sure did.”
“Good.” I reached over and clapped Stone on his shoulder. “Let’s go, brother. I feel like kicking your ass at pool tonight.”
“Where the fuck do you think you’re goin’,” Ronny bellowed when I began to turn away. “I’m not done with you yet, asshole.”
“Oh for God’s sake, Ronny,” Shane exclaimed in annoyance. “Just give it a rest already. No one wants to see you get your ass handed to you tonight. Everyone here knows you’re full of shit. You need to walk away before I break your nose . . . again.”
His face started to go red, so I hooked my arm around Shane’s shoulders and pulled her against me so I’d be the buffer in case he decided to do something really fucking stupid.
“You know what? Fuck this place, there’re better bars in this town. I’m done with this shithole.”
“Thank God,” Shane muttered under her voice.
“But, wait,” Rina called after him. “I’m not ready to go and you’re my ride!”
“Then find a new one, bitch. I’m outta here.” He stomped out of the bar, with Rina teetering after him, nearly tripping several times as she tried to run in her stripper heels.
“You good?” I asked, looking down at my sunshine.
“Absolutely perfect,” she said in a soft, dreamy voice, tipping her head back farther so I could lean in for a kiss.
“All right. It’s good you two patched things up, but I don’t need to see this shit,” Stone grumbled. “We playin’ pool or what? I feel like puttin’ money on it.”
I was down with that. I’d drink a few beers, play a couple games, take Stone’s money, then I’d take my woman home and fuck her until neither of us could walk. It was going to be a good night.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Shane
“I never thought I’d say this, but I think I hate shopping.”
Farah threw her head back and laughed as we exited what felt like the millionth store in the past three days. We were still on the hunt for furniture to fill my house, but it was taking so long, and I was being so indecisive that all my other friends had bowed out, refusing to go with me anymore.
“Mommy, we should get all Avengers stuff!” Brantley declared seriously.
I smiled down at my boy and brushed his hair back from his forehead. “I love you, bud, but we aren’t doing that.”
He huffed out a beleaguered sigh that I could have sworn he learned from his father and started walking ahead of us.
“Kiddo, stay close,” I called out to him.
“Okay.,” he returned.
Farah spoke up, pulling me from my doldrums. “Don’t worry, honey. You’ll know what you want when you see it. That’s how it was when I was decorating my place.”
When she’d first moved to town, Farah had bought this big old Victorian that had been sitting empty and abandoned for decades. It was in terrible shape, but she saw something in it, had it renovated, and now the place was absolutely breathtaking inside and out.
“Yeah, but you have that whole interior design gene. I think I’m missing that. I don’t have the first damn clue what looks good together or what’s in style.”
“Then don’t try and make stuff match, and don’t worry about what’s in style. Jensen told you to get what you like so get what you like.”
“Yeah, I know, but that was weeks ago. I think he might actually be getting a little annoyed I’ve hardly spent any of his money yet.”
“Speaking of money . . .” Farah lifted her eyebrows. “Any word from
Jensen’s lawyer on the lawsuit against his father?”
I kept my eyes forward, keeping Brantley in my sight as he stopped and pressed his little face up to the window of one of the stores in the strip mall we were at. “No, nothing new, really. Cases like this are slow as hell. I don’t think he’s worried about actually getting the money back as much as he’s looking forward to sticking it to Whitman and Cordelia. Since the lawsuit’s been filed, he’s basically already done that, so he’s good.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re so happy and that everything is working out for you; you deserve it.”
Reaching over, I hooked my arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a sideways hug. “Thanks, babe.”
She sucked in a gasp and pointed to the window we were walking past. “Hey, what do you think of that lamp? It’s colorful and kind of funky and totally you.”
I pulled my eyes off of Brantley, who was still salivating at whatever he was staring at, and turned to see the lamp Farah was talking about. It was my turn to gasp as soon as I saw it. “Oh man, I love that. You’re right, it’s so me.”
“Let’s go check it out.”
Suddenly feeling excited that I might actually come away from this day with at least something for my home, I glanced back to Brantley, calling out, “Hey bud. I think I found us a super cool lamp for our house. Let’s go take a look.”
He beamed at me and started running back in my direction. Everything that happened after that felt like it moved in slow motion and lightning speed all at once.
A gray sedan came screeching up to the sidewalk, so close the driver side tires nearly jumped up on the curb. The door flew open and a woman jumped out. Before I could figure out what was going on, she’d grabbed Brantley around the waist and snatched him up. I let out a scream and started running, but before I could get to them, the woman ran the two steps between where my son had been and the open car door and threw him into the passenger seat.
Bittersweet (Redemption Book 3) Page 23
