by Bijou Hunter
“And who would be your favorite sister?”
“Nevaeh.”
“And why?” she hisses dramatically, causing Io’s blue eyes to glare at me for daring to awaken her mother’s beast.
“She’s the only one of you that hasn’t kicked me in the balls.”
“Oh, so if I get her to do that, can I be your fave?”
“No, you’ll just lose your favored twin status.”
“Rotten to the core,” Avery growls and disappears into the bedroom.
Io stands up and storms out in solidarity with her wronged mother.
After Violet watches it all play out, she whispers to me, “I don’t want a daughter. They’re scary.”
“Then, by the laws of the universe, we shall have only drama queen daughters.”
Grinning, Violet spots our suitcases ready to be loaded in my truck. Her entire expression shifts and the woman literally glows with anticipation. Though I might be reading her wrong, I get the distinct impression we might test out her birth control this weekend.
THE GHOST
During the drive, Maverick offers his hand when he notices I’m biting mine. I wave him off and stare at the road ahead. We’re nearing Shasta’s town limits. On plenty of occasions, I’ve been this far away from the Victorian. I won’t disappear back to the house like the Beetlejuice couple returned to theirs whenever they tried to leave. But will I wake up to find myself back with Husband?
“You’ve left Shasta many times,” Maverick says as his gaze focuses on the road.
“Yes, but I’ve never been to Pema. What if this is a delusion, and I lack the creativity to design a new town in my head?”
“Don’t you think if you created such a detailed delusion that you’d come up with a reason to never leave Shasta? Instead, you wanted to travel.”
Nodding, I know Maverick is right. I’m not dreaming or dead. Why not settle down and enjoy the boring Kentucky scenery? I reach for his free right hand and hold it for reassurance.
After taking an edible before we left, I’m as calm as I can be without feeling completely out of it. I don’t want to spend the next two days totally stoned. I need to remain aware enough to enjoy Maverick’s company. In Pema, he isn’t my brother. We can hold hands and kiss like a couple.
Well, assuming I can stay out of my own way. No excuses! In Pema, I’m the only obstacle to us getting close.
Maverick doesn’t expect me to talk during our drive. He knows I’m living in my head, and music will distract me more than us making chit-chat. Even with his eyes on the road and his mouth shut, Maverick is thinking of me. I can feel his mood. The more we’re together, the easier I can sense when he’s focused on me. Maverick can still hide but not nearly as well as when we first met.
For the first hour of the drive, I concentrate on every song and try to catch each word. Anything to keep my mind busy.
The second hour of the drive, I’m more interested in the various ways I might finally have sex with Maverick. I’ve studied pictures of the romance-themed hotel called The Love Cave. We’re staying in the “Valentine Room” with its vibrating heart-shaped bed and red, shag carpet. There’s a jacuzzi tub that I’m thinking might be a good spot for our first fuck, assuming it’s clean. Catching a weird fungal infection will definitely ruin my first time with Maverick.
“Just a few more miles,” he says after an hour of silence.
I run my fingers over his forearm’s tattooed flesh. Shivering, I smile at the thought of us being able to act like a real couple in public.
Maverick mimics my move as his long fingers stroke my forearm. Such a small gesture holds incredible promise.
The first highway exit for Pema reveals farmland, a few stray houses, and lonely two-lane roads. The second one offers a Walmart, two chain hotels, a handful of fast-food restaurants, and a few local ones. The last Pema exit takes us down a business-lined road. Soon, Maverick makes a right turn toward what I assume is downtown.
Pema is a typical Kentucky town. Old brick-and-stone homes from the 1960s mixed with a menagerie of older and newer styles. I spot one street with houses clearly built in the 1990s and 2000s based on their siding and boxy shapes. There’s another block of homes with everything from a run-down Victorian to a brand spanking new contemporary.
Finally, we turn down another main road and pull into a parking lot belonging to the small boutique hotel. Down the street are a bakery next to an insurance office, a row of small homes, a pizza joint, and an apartment complex. Rather than view Pema as a mess, I decide its chaotic style is charming.
Maverick pretends we have plenty of options if Pema doesn’t work out. Except he doesn’t want to return to Ellsberg, claiming there’s nothing for him to do there. However, if he truly wanted to, I bet he could push men out of his way and move up the ladder. Cooper Johansson seems smart enough to realize Maverick’s potential. Plus, many men who came up with the Reapers’ leader aren’t aging as gracefully as him. Having a guy like Maverick around should be a win for Cooper.
But Ellsberg is where Vaughn Majors rides. Maverick might not be as obvious about it as River, but both men want out of their father’s impressive shadow. They can’t be successful as long as he’s nearby to save them from failure.
That leaves Conroe. I don’t know the Johanssons well, though I met Cooper and Farah last Christmas, along with two of their daughters and a few grandkids. However, I’m unfamiliar with Bailey and Sawyer Johansson. Cooper’s younger sisters basically run Conroe behind the scenes while the former’s sons run things in public. Maverick refuses to be their bitch.
River once stated, “The Majors family shouldn’t be eating shit, even if it’s served by the Johanssons.”
Which makes me wonder how Maverick will handle taking orders from Colton? I guess I’ll find out in a few hours when we join the other man for dinner.
“I don’t know how gross this place might be,” Maverick says after he turns off his truck. “It might be too skanky to spend the night here. If so, we’ll drive over to the Holiday Inn and get a room.”
“It’ll be fine.”
Maverick gives me an unimpressed frown. “No, it might not. We should prepare for that possibility, so it doesn’t throw off our good mood.”
“Ah, I get it. You’re worried I’ll walk into the Valentine Room, smell jizz in the air, feel spunk on the carpet, and go bananas. Then, our trip will be ruined.”
Maverick allows a soft smile. “I want you to be comfortable.”
“Yeah, so you can get laid,” I say, challenging him.
“No, so you can.”
Laughing at his wink, I watch him climb out of the truck. I’m slow to follow. Somehow, the world seems safer in the vehicle, and I’m terrified of being disappointed by Pema.
Maverick opens my door and offers his hand. His palm feels warm, and I imagine it against my skin tonight. Shivering with anticipation, I walk next to him to The Love Cave’s front entrance.
The woman at the desk gives us the once-over, and I assume her usual customers are middle-aged couples looking to spice up their love lives.
No! They’re cheaters looking to class up their dirty deeds! Yeah, I bet this place could tell a lot of disgusting stories. How many betrayed wives or husbands showed up here, looking for trouble? Are there bullet holes hidden behind the dark blue wallpaper?
No doubt, this place has also seen its share of popped cherries, too. Prom night fucks at The Love Cave might be a Pema rite of passage.
Up the elevator to the third floor, we find a red hallway leading to the Valentine Room. Halfway to the door, Maverick bursts into chuckles. His amusement surprises me. The man normally acts so aloof, but he chokes on laughter now.
“It’s so tacky,” he chuckles and squeezes my hand. “I can’t tell if the hotel owners know it’s trashy or if this is their idea of romance?”
“How about both?” I say, wrapping my arm around his as he reaches to open the door. “Much like people go to Red Lobster or the Ol
ive Garden for a fancy meal, this hotel is Kentucky’s idea of the height of romance. As Kentuckians, we must embrace our inner kitsch sensibilities and enjoy the ride.”
A grinning Maverick shoves open the door, and we step inside. This magical yet tacky room is where our bodies will become one. I assume the act will be beautiful, even if fungal infections remain a strong possibility.
THE SENTINEL
Violet dances around the Valentine Room, giggling hysterically at the heart-shaped bed and the 1980s, Vegas-style bathroom. The word gaudy doesn’t really do the place justice.
But she loves it, anyway.
“Can we walk around Pema while the weather is pleasant?” she asks, smiling brightly at me.
“Sure. Our suitcases can stay in the truck for now. Dinner with Colton and his woman isn’t for a few hours. Let’s explore all Pema has to offer. And after we complete those twenty minutes of entertainment, we can just enjoy the weather over at the nearby park.”
Violet takes my hand and holds on to it after we’re outside. She’s long wanted to publicly act like my girlfriend rather than my sister.
We walk down the street, entering every business and annoying the staff who realize we’re not sticking around. I consider showing Violet the old firehouse I’m hoping to remodel into a duplex. Avery expects to move into the second side despite my plan to keep it free for when family visits.
For today, I decide to skip the firehouse. No reason to fill Violet’s head with big ideas before I’m certain Colton and I can hammer out the details of my joining this chapter. Though Conroe and Ellsberg feel like dead ends, I’ll move wherever necessary to give Violet her fresh start.
Rather than look at the firehouse, we end up sitting in the town’s nicest park. Violet leans against me while we share a pumpernickel bagel.
“What do I do during dinner?” Violet asks as we people-watch.
“Talk to Colton’s woman. Or ignore Stella and mess with your phone. I don’t know if he’ll have us at a table to allow you to move down or if we’ll be packed together in a booth. Colton and I have known each other our entire lives, but that doesn’t mean I understand him well. He comes off as a man adverse to strategy, which makes planning for him difficult.
“Do you like him?”
“I don’t dislike him.”
“You said he’s more like River than Shane. Do you get along better with River or Shane?”
“Can’t you tell?”
Violet smirks at my tone. “You’re very difficult to read. There were times when I thought you hated me. Then, I became convinced you were stalking me. I went back and forth, unable to tell.”
“I never hated you,” I say, taking her hand.
After a few minutes, Violet stands up and throws our trash away. Then, she remains standing until I catch a hint and join her.
“Will you kiss me right now?”
“I will kiss you any time you want.”
Violet offers me a half-smile that fades when my hands cup her face. She stares wide-eyed, nearly daring me to fuck this up. Or she’s just nervous. Violet isn’t much easier to read than I am.
My lips do a practice run by brushing against hers. Violet inhales sharply, and I nearly back away. Her thin, bruised fingers grip my black T-shirt, signaling she wants more.
I press my mouth firmly against hers before licking her lips. She opens up, inhaling me. Our tongues enjoy a brief taste. Though I’ve never wanted anyone like I do Violet Navarro, our kiss ends quickly.
I feel too many eyes on us. I even catch a mother bitching to her friend about some horndogs at the park. The last thing I need is to kick some broad’s ass for upsetting Violet.
“Will you push me on the swing?” she asks and takes my hand.
I realize the bitchy broad’s kid is on the swings. And Violet makes a beeline for the spot next to his. Wearing an innocent smile, she slides into the rubber seat while I move behind her.
“I want to fly like a sex-craved eagle, baby. Then, you can fuck me raw later.”
A lesser man would burst into evil laughter at how deviously innocent she says those words. Or he might lose his shit when the bitchy broad hurries over to grab her kid away. But I only smirk and give my girl a push. Her foot manages to skim the mom’s ass as the bitch rushes by.
“We’re going to be so happy in Pema,” Violet says, swinging higher and smiling wider.
These kinds of moments are when I realize the Majors last name suits Violet. She gets a kick out of fucking with people. She’s just sneakier about it than my sisters.
For an hour, we goof off at the park, going down slides and enjoying the playground. Most of the parents ignore us. The assholes like bitchy broad leave. I enjoy knowing I’ve ruined their day a little.
Uppity people are the worst. I grew up seeing how those types judged my family. Tatted dad, hippie mom, eight kids, we were simply begging for their derision. I’ve spent my life doing what I can to shove a little misery back in their direction.
Now, I have a partner in crime. While Violet and I are on the same page, I can’t be sure how well Colton and I will gel. I’m also slightly concerned about Violet having to play girlfriend at dinner.
Before this trip, I did research on Colton’s woman. Stella Shields grew up as a foster kid, has some self-esteem and abandonment issues, and is overall considered “sweet.” Based on everyone’s feedback, Stella is good-natured and shy. That makes sense. Colton has a big mouth and a bigger ego. If he fell for someone like Shelby, they’d spend all their time fighting over the spotlight.
Violet should be fine chatting with Stella. My girl is great at faking her way through a conversation. Her parents taught her to put on a façade to win over people. With her current mood swings, faking shit isn’t a bad plan.
We meet Colton and Stella at Biyu’s Garden. The Chinese-Thai restaurant is two blocks from The Love Cave, so Violet and I walk. She regularly enjoys strolling around Shasta’s downtown. Back before O’Meara, she walked around her residential neighborhood, listening to music or an audiobook. I love the idea of her one day feeling such comfort in Pema.
Inside the restaurant, Colton sits at a back booth with Stella. She’s blonde with skin still baked from too much time in the summer sun. Colton’s once-shaved head is covered in short blond hair. Both wear white T-shirts and blue jeans, clearly in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. Meaning, I’ll need to watch my gag reflex during dinner. I still get nauseous remembering when River first hooked up with Max.
“You cut your hair,” Colton says rather than hello. “Is it so people can tell you and River apart?”
“To save time, let’s go with yes.”
Violet slides into the booth and smiles at Stella. The other woman’s body language shifts immediately. Smiling wider, Violet picks up on how Stella views her as more intimidating.
As the women fall into easy small talk, I sit across from Colton. He doesn’t ask about our drive or where we’re staying. He jumps right into talking about one of his favorite topics—food.
“This place just opened up,” he says, tapping my menu. “Heidi’s idea. A woman from a Reapers-owned nail salon had family from Thailand with dreams of opening up a restaurant. Somehow, that led to one of our subsidiaries becoming co-owners of this place. The sweet and sour is great.”
“Where are you living?”
“In an apartment. Not many houses are available around here. Gunnar waited for years to find land to stick his double-wide.”
“He wanted to live next to his mommy and daddy.”
Colton smirks. “I hear you want to be my VP.”
Appreciating us getting to the point, I say, “I want to move to Pema, and I’m not interested in your job.”
“Think you could take it from me?”
“My dad said your killer instinct isn’t honed yet,” I mutter while mimicking Violet by looking over the menu.
“He did, huh?” Colton grumbles under his breath. “Not everyone is cold-blooded.”
“Exactly,” I say, resting the menu on the shiny black table. “Your skillset includes being a showman, rallying the troops, and acting as the chapter’s face. My skill set is to make your problems disappear.”
Colton leans back in the booth and takes Stella’s hand. He watches me with the dark eyes he inherited from both of his parents. His scowling face is all Cooper Johansson, though. He got this fake-ass introspective expression from his dad, too.
No way is Colton unaware of what I can offer his chapter. As soon as he learned I was interested in VP, he was on the phone with his “pop” to talk over how that might work. The reason I’m here is that Cooper sees the benefit of a killer watching his still-untested son’s back.
But I’m forced to pretend Colton is considering my worthiness. While he does that crap, I ask Violet if she’s ready to order.
Her blue eyes find mine, and she smiles softly. I relish how comfortable she is right now. So often, I see her dissolving into the dead-eyed robot façade she wore to survive O’Meara. Tonight, though, she’s vibrant and incredibly sexy.
“I’ve never eaten that,” Stella says about Violet’s order of chicken pad Thai.
My girl offers, “You can try some of mine if you want.”
Stella smiles at Colton, and he gets that stupid puppy dog look that I’d wear if I weren’t in better control of myself. New love is the most obnoxious form of love, but I understand why he’s so happy.
With the restaurant mostly empty, our food arrives quickly. Colton keeps our talk related to real estate. He wants land and is willing to stay in the apartment until he finds the right place.
“I’m not looking to live high on the hog in my youth. That worked for my dad because he was taking over a stabilized town. Right now, I want a smaller place that’s manageable. Then, when I’m middle-aged, I’ll think about building a big custom place like my parents have.”
“I plan to live in town,” I reply, giving Violet a quick glance.
