“Figured I’d at least get something that felt like a home.”
“Instead of a rat’s nest-infested apartment?” he asked, chuckling.
“Yeah. Sure. Other than that.”
“You calling because you don’t trust us with your shit?” he asked.
I heard something break in the background before I groaned.
“The fuck was that?” I asked.
“Nothing we can’t replace. We’ll get it taken care of. Stop being a little shit,” Stone said.
“Well, I’m at the house. My shit’s in the room. And Jett was bothering Ella again.”
He paused. “What?”
“I’m not sure what the hell was going on. She wouldn’t talk about it. But whatever it was had her rattled a bit. She’ll be late for work. But I’m gonna keep an eye on her. Don’t worry about that shit.”
“He was there? That fucker was at her place?”
“Had her blocked into her own driveway with that stupid convertible of his,” I said.
“Son… of a bitch!” he roared.
Something else crashed in the background and I sighed.
“Can you not destroy my new place?” I asked.
“I’ll fucking replace it,” Stone growled.
“Take some breaths.”
“I’m counting on you to keep her safe, Texas. That’s your job with this.”
“I know that. And she will be safe, no matter what it takes of me,” I said.
“Promise me, Texas. Promise me you won’t let that bastard lay a finger on my sister.”
“I promise I won’t let you down.”
“That rat bastard has taken enough from her. And I swear to hell, if he lays a finger on Keva—”
“If he does, you won’t get a chance to kill him. Because I’ll slay him myself,” I said.
The hairs on the back of my neck bristled. Just the idea of someone touching that beautiful, vibrant child made me sick to my damn stomach. I stood off the plastic-covered couch and paced around, listening to Stone rattle off all the shit they moved. My couches. My bed. My coffee table. My television that was apparently one of the broken items. I didn’t worry about it too much, though. I knew Stone was good for his word.
If it was broken, I knew he’d replace it.
I wrapped up my conversation with him, then hung up the phone. And as I peered out the window over toward Ella’s place, I couldn't stop thinking about her. How sexy she was. How beautiful her creamy skin looked flushed with that red tint. I closed my eyes and shook my head. I drew the blinds to try and put a barrier between myself and the images of what she might look like fucking naked.
Tits swaying. Thighs jiggling. Her ass all—
Damn it, Texas. Stop. You can’t think about her. Stone will murder you next.
Oh, if Ella only knew how much blood was on her brother’s hands.
I might have been the enforcer for the crew, but Stone was downright sadistic at times. It was almost as if he lusted over blood. Over the spilling of a guilty life. I knew he’d take the chance to slay Jett in a heartbeat. Hell, we all would. But, for Stone, it would be a bit too pleasurable.
Which was why I had to make sure he wasn’t the one that pulled the trigger if it came down to it.
I stepped away from the window and tried to occupy myself. I went into the back room and unpacked my clothes. I stripped the musty sheets off the bed and tossed them into the washer. I even tried making myself some fucking bacon. All in an attempt to wipe Ella from my mind. I couldn't think about anything other than the assignment. My job.
I had to keep Ella and Keva safe. That was the only thing I needed to do.
But I knew it was going to be hard. I knew I’d have a hard time keeping my hands to myself. Especially with a slim waist like hers that practically called to the carnal animal within me.
I sat down with my plate of bacon and my whisky on the rocks. I turned on the box set television and found some black and white sitcom. Holy hell, this house was straight out of the fucking seventies. Then again, my attention really wasn’t there. I had my ears trained on the outside world. My gun was crammed against my hip, reminding me that it was there in case I needed it. I crunched on my bacon and rolled through I Love Lucy reruns as the minutes ticked by.
Anything to stop thinking about Ella.
My best friend’s sexy-as-hell sister.
Three
Ella
The rhythmic beeping of the cash register almost lulled me to sleep many times. I plastered on a smile to get through my work day, but my encounter with my ex-husband left me reeling most of the day. I scanned the groceries and bagged them up. I took money from the customers and counted out change in the palms of their hands. I fussed with the receipt machine when it ran out of paper, I grumbled over checks when they were presented to me, and I struggled with five customers who felt the need to yell in my face because of expired coupons that didn’t work.
All I wanted to do was go home.
I took my break and headed to the bathroom, locking myself away in one of the stalls and wiping away the tears I’d been holding back for my entire shift. The encounter with Jett rattled me. I didn’t like him blocking me in like that. Cornering me at my car like that. I didn’t talk to him unless I absolutely had to, and we had already discussed his “vacation.” He couldn't spring it on me like that. It was part of the court-ordered custody agreement. Hell, he shouldn't have gotten unsupervised visitation anyway because of what he did to me during our marriage. But that was how life went sometimes.
I still wondered if that judge was biased toward the men in his courtroom, though.
I envisioned the frozen pizza in my freezer and sighed with relief. Well, before the mom guilt set in. I wanted to go home, pop it in the oven, and be done with this day. I wanted to put my feet up, share a slice with Keva, and go to bed. I knew I was being a bad mother for not cooking something better. Something healthier. Especially since I had all the ingredients needed for a fresh dinner.
But the idea of slaving away at a stove after this day made me want to cry again.
My feet were tired. My back ached. My heart felt like it had been broken all over again. I cleaned myself up at the sink and wiped my face off with paper towels, then went back to my register to finish out the rest of my shift. Beep after beep. Bag after bag. Canned goods and sugar bags and candies and gallons of milk. I had practically memorized the prices on just about everything. I knew all the four-digit numbers for the produce to weigh them at the register. I kept my focus until my manager came over to me and told me it was time to clock out.
I couldn't get out of there fast enough.
I sped through the parking lot and made my way back to Joanne’s house. I pulled into my driveway, then limped over to her porch. I rose my fist and knocked on the door, then heard Keva screaming gleefully for me behind it. The sound made me smile. Coming home to her was the only bright spot in my days some days.
But when she dashed out onto the porch and jumped into my arms, my back twinged.
Holy hell. It felt like someone had kicked me square in my spine.
I needed to research some stretches to do between customers.
“Hey there, love bug,” I groaned.
“Okay, Keva. Let’s give your mom a chance to rest,” Joanne said.
“I missed you, Mommy,” she said as she nuzzled into my neck.
The words brought tears to my eyes as I kissed her cheek over and over again.
“I missed you too, princess,” I whispered.
“Keva, why don’t you go inside and finish your snack. Give your mother and I a chance to talk,” Joanne said.
I eyed her curiously as Keva wiggled away from my grasp. I grunted as I set her down, then she dashed back inside and practically threw herself at the kitchen table. I watched Joanne close her front door, her eyes looking me up and down as I stood there.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
I watched a grin crawl across her fa
ce.
“Who’s the hot guy on the motorcycle?” she asked.
It took me a second to figure out what she was talking about.
“Oh, you mean Texas?” I asked.
“Of course, he’d have a sexy name to go along with it,” she said, smiling.
I balked. “Miss Joanne!”
“What!? Look, I shooed Keva inside when Jett pulled up. But when I heard that motorcycle, I have to admit it drew me to my window. I saw him chase that man off before you left for work.”
“Wipe that silly grin off your face. Texas’s my brother’s best friend,” I said.
“And…?”
“And, nothing. My overprotective brother has sent one of his henchmen to babysit me, apparently.”
“I wouldn't mind being babysat by someone like him,” she murmured.
“Miss Joanne!”
“What!? Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes, Ella.”
I couldn't stop giggling with shock.
“It’s just Texas. That’s it,” I said.
“Uh huh. There’s no ‘just’ with a man who can pull off leather like that.”
I rolled my eyes at her words.
“He’s moved in next door. That’s it,” I said.
“And you’re not looking. At all,” she said.
“No.”
But the look Joanne shot me made me contemplate if I really was. I mean, Texas was hot. A very good-looking man with muscles I wouldn't mind exploring. But…
No. I’d deny it until the end of time. Stone would kill me if I ever started considering his best friend that way. He even warned me about getting tangled up with Jett, and I didn’t listen then.
“I actually didn’t notice the leather. I’m so used to Stone wearing it all the time that it doesn’t phase me anymore,” I said.
“Uh huh. Don’t play poker, honey, okay?” Joanne asked.
“I’m being serious.”
“Bullshit.”
“Miss Joanne!”
“I have a mouth! Why in the world do people think little old ladies are conservative prudes?” she asked.
I threw my head back and laughed at that statement.
“So, if we’re going to go along with this charade for now, then why is it that you aren’t all over the hot motorcycle guy?” she asked.
“You mean Texas,” I said.
“Yes, honey. The man in the leather. He was practically drooling all over you this morning.”
Wait, he was?
“That catch your interest?” Joanne asked with a smirk.
I shook my head. “No. No, it didn’t. You're trying to pull me into something that isn’t there. Look, I can’t think of Texas as anything other than my brother’s friend. He’s off limits, no matter what. The way Jett should have been.”
“Don’t you let that sorry excuse for a man taint you of finding another one.”
“I’m not, Miss Joanne. But after my disastrous marriage, I’m not looking to get into another relationship right now.”
“It’s been almost two years,” she said.
“And I’m still healing. Maybe when Keva’s off to college, I’ll consider it.”
“College!? That’s years from now, Ella.”
“My focus is on Keva and keeping her safe. Raising her right, despite who her father is,” I said.
“Well, mark my words. If you wait too long, your ‘hoo-ha’ will end up full of cobwebs.”
My face fell flat. “Really, Miss Joanne?”
“Really, really.”
“You can talk about how hot my brother’s best friend is, but you won’t say the word ‘vagina?’”
She shrugged. “Have to have my prudish old lady lines somewhere.”
The two of us shared a laugh before I drew in a deep breath through my nose.
“I just don’t want one bad relationship to stop you from finding your special person,” Joanne said.
“And I really appreciate that. I do.”
“I mean, let’s get real for a second. I’ve had four husbands. I buried my last one three years ago, and I’m dating again.”
“Wait, four? Wait, wait, wait… you’re dating!?”
Joanne laughed. “If I can do it at my age, then you can do it. I loved all of those men. I really did. In very different ways, sure, but I loved with my entire heart. It’s not my fault the first one couldn't keep it in his pants. Or the second. And it’s not my fault the third ended up being gay.”
“What!? How did I not know any of this!?”
Joanne smiled. “My point is that if I can still do this thing called dating, then you can go after the motorcycle hunk.”
I giggled. “You mean Texas.”
“I’ll call him by his name once he earns it.”
“I’m ready!” Keva exclaimed.
She ripped the door open and came running back up to me. Despite the pain in my back, I scooped her up and held her close. Joanne winked at me, a small gesture telling me to “give it some thought.” Then, she came and kissed both myself and Keva on the side of the head.
“Now, you two get home and get some dinner. I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” she said.
“See you tomorrow,” I said.
“Bye, Grandma ‘Joe-nanne!” Keva said, smiling.
I walked my daughter back across the street and straight into the house. And the entire time we walked, Keva kept going on about what she did at “Grandma Joe-nanne’’s” house. She rattled on about how they played with all her toys and watched a movie. How she took a nap on the couch with her blanket she has there and how they played hide-and-seek. It sounded like a glorious day. A brilliant, perfect day that I had to miss because of work.
It only made me ache even more that I had to miss it.
“All right, ready to see what we’ve got for dinner?” I asked.
“Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!” Keva exclaimed.
“You want pizza?”
“Yes, Mommy! I always want pizza.”
“A girl after my own heart,” I said, grinning.
A bit of the mom guilt subsided as my daughter chanted her want for pizza. I set her down and told her to go get dressed into her pajamas, and she raced off to her room. I stood there at the stove, leaning on it with my bare hands and taking deep breaths. I stretched down to my toes and felt every vertebrae in my back pop before I slowly came back up.
“That’s the spot,” I groaned.
I was happy. Don’t get me wrong. Keva always came home with a smile on her face from Joanne’s house. And I liked that. A lot. Because whenever she went over to Jett’s and came home, she never had a smile on her face. She was too tired, or too strung out with candy. She was angry at something or generally happy to be back and never wanted to talk about what her and her father did together. He gave her things, sure. Toys. Clothes. Food. But he never gave her what she needed. He never gave her what she got from Joanne.
Love.
It made me sick, always having to relinquish her to him. Even if it only was for a few days at a time.
As I preheated the oven, I took the pizza out of the freezer. I unwrapped it and waited for the beeping to go off as I heard Keva doing her nighttime routine. Part of me wanted to go back there and stop her. It wasn’t time for that yet. But I was too tired to go in there and stop her from brushing her teeth too early. I sighed as I slid the pizza into the oven. I really hoped my beautiful, precious daughter wouldn't suffer because of my mistakes.
I hoped I was being a good enough mother to counteract the shitty father she had.
I closed my eyes as the pizza cooked and heard Keva rushing back down the small hallway. She dove onto the couch and fiddled with the remote until the television turned on. I needed to tell her it wasn’t time for T.V. yet. It wasn’t time to blindly melt our minds with pointless screen time.
But when I opened my eyes and saw Texas’s house through the small window of my kitchen, my mind rushed somewhere else.
I looked down at my feet qu
ickly, then turned my back. There was no need to think about him. No need to contemplate Joanne’s words. Getting involved with anyone from the crew again was a strict “no, thank you” after Jett. But even entertaining the idea with my brother’s best friend?
If I wanted to round out the “not a good mother” checklist, then that was the way to do it.
Sure, Joanne had a point. And yes, her pronouncements about love and dating were hilarious. But they didn’t apply to me and my situation. They didn’t apply to my life. They didn’t apply to my circumstances or the way things had panned out for me.
And as much as it hurt to admit, they never would.
Four
Texas
I stood there in my kitchen looking at the steaks I had set out. I had them salted and peppered, just like they needed to be. There was no need for fancy marinades or extra spices when it came to such great cuts of meat. But I also had chicken in the fridge as well. I saw this great recipe on the cooking channel as I was flipping through the black-and-white images on the box set in the living room.
Now, I didn’t know which one to do.
I walked over to my pantry and swung it open. I had everything I needed for the chicken recipe. The basil. The honey. Apples to chop up and cheese to grate. I had plenty of vegetables to grill up and potatoes to roast. I had the ability to do either one, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted for dinner.
And just like that, my eyes looked up through my kitchen window and peered over to Ella’s house.
I wondered what she and Keva were having for dinner. After all, she’d gotten home forty-three minutes ago. I couldn't imagine working all damn day like she did, bending my ass over a cash register, only to come home and cook for a small child. I didn’t know how she did it. Hell, I didn’t know how any single mother did it. Part of me admired Ella for taking on that task.
But part of me wondered if she was even awake enough to cook.
My mind fled back to our encounter that morning. Her curves in that damn polyester uniform. Her hair, tumbling down to her shoulders. Pulled back in a half-ponytail that would be perfect for gripping and taking her from behind. And those tits. Holy fuck, I’d bury my face in them. Kiss them. Mark them. Suck on them and lap at them with my tongue until—
Texas: The Lost Boys MC #1 Page 2
