"Dirty cops? The bikers have cops in their pockets?" Derek squeaked out with wide eyes.
"What kind of shit movies do you let this prick watch?" Dare asked Mel who was smiling at his brother's incredulous expression.
Turning back to the teenager still in his grip, Dare considered him before speaking again this time on a slow growl. "You're a punk. No, fuckin' lower than that, I think. A wanna-be. Which is even fuckin' worse because you don't even fuckin' know what you want, only what you don't. And are letting the rest of your family know it by fuckin' not being around and then creating drama when you are. That. Shit. Stops. Now. Dig?"
Derek shot his eyes to Mel before going to the big man holding him.
"Nod your head, you stupid ass, so I know you hear me."
The teenager nodded.
"You're in the program and there's no getting out of it. You'll do what you're told when you're told. This is an opportunity. Not a fuckin' punishment. The Hellions have a good record with gettin' shit sorted, of getting' a man's life back on the fuckin' rails. It's a way of teaching you about the stones you've gotten knocking together in your shorts and how to deal with the shit life throws at you."
Derek was listening closely, Mel could tell.
"Now, I'm gonna let you down slow and you're gonna thank your Uncle Dare and your brother for giving a shit about you and your worthless ass. Then you're gonna clean up the mess your goddamn tantrum fuckin' created. All right?" Dare's voice was almost soft in the quiet of the kitchen.
There was another nod before Dare released his hold. "C'mon, Mel. Let's ride."
"Th-thank you," Mel heard from behind him as he followed behind Dare on their way to the front door stopping both of the big men in their tracks.
It had been said with a quaver and it had been quietly spoken.
But it had been said.
And that was the most important thing in Mel's mind.
*.*.*.*.*
I'd found the perfect little jewel of a place, a little eight unit, single-story complex just three blocks from my current building and offered for fifty dollars less than I was currently paying.
It already came with both blinds and curtains, built-in glass fronted bookshelves that bracketed the smallest fireplace in existence as well as a walk in closet. I could see myself happily sewing in all the natural light the windows provided as well as cuddling up with a good book in front of a fire on a cold winter's night.
I signed a six-month lease and handed over cash to Mr. Sweatypants which was the only drawback to the apartment's perfection. His name was actually Mr. Saramantidis but even in the coolness of the afternoon, he'd been sweating like a glass of ice tea on a hot summer day. I would've had a problem with the way he'd eyed me but after meeting his missus I knew I'd be having no trouble with him going forward. She may have been little but had no trouble backhanding his arm to yank him back into line.
Finding a local shipping place to get postage and packaging in order to forward my iPhone back home, I saw that they offered mailboxes on rental. Another perfect solution if I had to move again on short notice. I signed up immediately, grateful to have solved another problem. There were still things in Albuquerque I wanted Shelly to forward to me.
I found a local moving company that gave me a fair quote before going to Mrs. Austen's to turn in my notice. After much haggling, she had me sign the form which allowed her to keep my last month's rent in order to be able to move out that upcoming weekend. After my time with her, I'd felt like I'd been through a war.
As I climbed the stairs to my soon-to-be-old apartment, I went through my mental checklist deciding I'd accomplished a lot in just one afternoon. I could transfer my utilities during my lonely lunch the next day and then start boxing my things up over the rest of the week. It would keep me busy which would help keep my mind off a certain man that I'd been trying to push out of my head.
How dare he share such intimate details with a group of men who I knew didn't value intimacy in any way, shape or form? Although they hadn't come right out and said anything, each had paraded past my desk that morning and I caught different looks than those they'd given me previously.
Silo's morning chin-lift of greeting had held more than a hint of a knowing smile.
Bishop's eyes remained on me behind my desk, coming to me again and even over his shoulder as he'd passed after his normal, "S'up, beautiful."
But Dare, catching me standing and watering the ivy on top of the now-in-disuse file cabinets, was the most telling. He stood just inside the doors and stared, actually stared at where my crotch would've been viewable if it weren't for my full skirt and petticoats. "Hey, Lucille," he'd breathed with a note of wonder in his voice his eyes glued to the parts of me that would forever remain unseen by him.
"Dare," I replied as graciously as I possibly could trying to prevent the ice in my voice from leaking out as I turned away.
They were, all four of them, a bunch of dirty dogs that didn't in my opinion deserve even a modicum of my attention or interest. And I was including the former object of my interest in that assessment as well.
Although I felt bad at having to include Mel in that group. I'd thought he had been different, a gentleman who contained more gallantry than the others. But I had been proven wrong. Dead wrong. So wrong it still hurt to think about him.
The creep.
As I put my key in my door, I glanced to the one next to mine. She'd been so sweet and so welcoming, I felt I owed it to my senior neighbor to let her know of my plans.
"Hey, Mrs. P. I just wanted to let you know I'll be moving out this coming weekend," I said when the fluffy haired woman answered her door.
"Figured that'd be the case with that man asking about you, Lucille." The old woman's head tilted as she eyed my face carefully. "You in some kind of trouble, honey?"
"Oh, heavens, no," I assured her forcing a laugh. "I just found a bigger place for cheaper and decided to take it is all."
But I didn't think she bought the story I was spinning.
"You want to come in? I have a pound cake and some frozen blueberries."
"I'd love to but I have so much to do. But I wanted to thank you for how welcome you've made me feel," I hedged.
"So where're you going?"
"Ah, one those places up on Jefferson," I lied, vague in my description. Gosh, for a girl that only believed in fudging the truth, I was almost choking in all my lies.
"Well, honey. I'm sorry to see you go so fast. You seem like one of those girls that has a good head on her shoulders, your choice of men friends notwithstanding," came the retort. Trust Mrs. P to call them as she saw them. "A man that kisses a woman on a first date ain't no gentleman in my opinion."
I blinked as I took in her words and decided the best reaction was none. So I reached out a hand and clasped the crepe-like skin of her thin wrist underneath my fingers. "It's been a pleasure living next to you."
It had been, I assured myself as I unlocked my door, my most sincerest statement of the day. I reached for my piece of crap phone in order to update Shelly with my new plans.
Lulu: Am sendg phone back 2 dad.
SPalm: U sure that’s best?
Lulu: Know no other way 2 keep B. off back. Movg 2.
SPalm: U may b right. Things here still tense. Jon hoppg mad @ u gone.
Lulu: He'll get over it. 2 many other girls on his chain 2 worry much bout me.
SPalm: But none 2 marry & gain crown.
Lulu: 2 true. Stay n touch, k?
SPalm: Will do. B safe. Luv u.
Lulu: Me 2.
I'd been texting my sister since that first night, usually just a couple of lines to let her know I was still okay. But her feedback on that night, especially considering her inclusion of my ex-fiancé's response to me leaving had me seeing red. After catching him dead to rights with his hand down Tonya Meyer's expensive Carine Gilson panties, which start in the $200 range, had only seen him shrugging off my righteous indignation.
"I'm not a man who'll ever be satisfied with just one woman," he'd given as his excuse, totally unconcerned with getting caught. After shuffling Tonya away and coming back to me only his hand moving over his head to signify anything untoward had happened, he drolly continued, "being the daughter of Mike Palmer, you should understand that. And know your place and role in my life as my future wife."
That had been the final nail in solidifying my decision to get the hell out of Albuquerque with all its expectations and lies of how good a life could be. How there were rules, both spoken and unspoken, on how a girl was to live her life. Imperatives I didn't agree with at all. Add that to what I found out about what my dad had been doing and I had ran just as fast as I possibly could.
The funny thing was, I hadn't given Jonathan Willingham Treviel the Third even a second thought after I'd cleared my hometown's city limits. Which just told me just how little I'd respected and cared for the man slated to be my future life's partner. But emotions didn't really play a part in the marriages within our social circle. Connections were made more for money or power than any emotional reasons. Usually it was the woman's money and her family's power that were the draw, the attraction for the men who wanted into the 'inner circle'.
Jon was no different.
Although I'd had to admit that Jon's words regarding my father were true.
Daddy was a player. A fact that Shelly and I had figured out at a very early age. He had women, lots of different women, coming in and out of our different houses at different times. Never introducing us unless they were one of our 'set'. Shuffling the rest of them quickly out of our eyesight as he moved them to his suite of rooms.
Which may or may not have contributed to my damning judgments of the 'dogs' on my scorecard.
The dirty butt wipes!
Chapter Fourteen
By quitting time Friday, Mel had to admit he was lonely.
Lonely for Derek who was never home before ten at night so tired and worn out the kid plopped face-first into his bed and sweet Julie who had spent more nights with the Honeys than she had with her older brother.
And lonely for Lulu's company.
Sure, he was surrounded by people all damn day. And was called to the clubhouse with some new shit that had-to-be-done-as-soon-as-fucking-possible, no-brain errand after work. But those people didn't matter to him, not in the deep places of him.
Not like Der, Jules or Lu.
So when their crew had called an early end to their shift on Friday, he'd been overjoyed. Spying her in the parking lot, Mel had called out to Lulu even as he'd let his eyes roam over her cute fluffy dress, seamed stockings and heels. "Hey, precious. Wait up!"
She'd paused and turned, shading her eyes with her hand as she'd faced towards him.
"Hey, Lu. How've you been? Gosh, you look pretty," he'd gushed, rushing up to her poised next to her little foreign car. He made a point of being close enough to smell her gorgeous scent which he knew was mostly her and not her perfume but still far enough away so as not to crowd her.
"Hello, Mel." And he'd been surprised at how flat her normally cheerful voice had sounded.
"Listen, I know its short notice but I'd really like to see you tomorrow. There's a rodeo in town…"
"I'm sorry. I already have other plans."
The clubhouse door opened and both their faces turned towards a couple of the Honeys that exited. Mel felt his face heat as he saw Carmi was one of the girls. As the little blonde waved at him with a coy smile, Lu added, "but I'm sure you can find someone else to go with."
"Oh." He'd felt his formally elated feelings at seeing her immediately take a nose-dive at her tone and how she'd let him know she'd heard about what he'd done. But he couldn't even begin to explain that experience. Not to her nor to himself. "I'm sorry I haven't been in touch since Saturday but between the club and my brother I haven't had much extra time."
"No problem, Mel."
Damn, what was wrong? They'd always been able to talk and if she had something to goddamn say she needed to get it out so they could deal with it.
"Have I done something, Lu?"
"Gosh, no. I'm just busy is all," she replied in a measured voice accompanied by a shrug.
Shit! He'd really blown it if this was all she was willing to give. He took a step forward conscious, so damn aware, of how filthy he was compared to all her clean and sweet.
"Sorry to cut this short but I've got a million things going on. It was nice to see you, Mel," she said with a smile but the expression her face held chilled Mel to the bone.
"Oh. Ah. Okay. Well, it was still nice seeing you, too, Lu. Have a good weekend," he'd said trying and failing so badly in sounding as breezy as she did. "Bye."
She whipped out a pair of shades and after placing them on her upturned nose, replied a polite, "see you," as she gracefully slipped into her car, using the same ass-to-seat-then-swivel motion to get in as she'd done in his Cutlass.
Such a feminine move for such a beautiful girl.
Mel's eyes followed her sweet little ride as it left the forecourt.
"She's been weird since Tuesday," Silo said coming to stand next to him. "None of us can figure out what the fuck is wrong. Bish thinks she's on the fuckin' rag."
Mel didn't respond to the other man's words knowing it was more, much more than that. He just didn't know exactly what it was. Although fucking Carmi and her fuckin' little wave had provided a clue.
What he'd had with the beautiful Lu had been a union of two people finding their other half, the perfect other side of themselves. The blending of what she'd needed had more than completed him—a merging and connection he would never fucking forget. And not only because it'd been his first time.
But because it had been fucking perfect.
His heart ached for what he'd—through his guilt, stupid inattention and overwhelming responsibilities—unknowingly let go. His footsteps lagged behind his lieutenant's as he walked behind him into the clubhouse recognizing the treasure he'd not thought to protect had slipped through his fingers as he'd moved through his busier-than-hell week.
"Hey, Mel," he heard called from various feminine voices throughout the bar as he entered. He'd been getting Honey attention since Sunday, which he knew was because of whatever Tight and Carmi had recounted to the others from their time with him.
He raised a hand and ducked his head as he'd done from the first which earned him a group of giggling responses just as it had from the beginning.
While his time on Sunday had been exciting, Mel wouldn't have called it all that if he were to do a play-by-play. There was no way he'd deny it wasn't hot in having a different beautiful girl holding each of his hands as they'd laughed when they pulled him into the sparsely furnished room. Nor the way they undressed and admired him before stripping each other down allowing him to watch as their hands trailed over each other's hills and valleys. Including him in their play with firm strokes and soft caresses over the parts of him that had ached in the viewing.
And not in the way they'd immediately fallen into bed, encouraging him to watch and then partake of the different parts they'd pointed out and offered up.
When Carmi had put one of the condoms on him from the bowl next to the bed, he'd bitten back his sharp gasp. Whoever heard of a girl putting on a rubber with her mouth?
There had been fucking and sucking and fingering all accompanied by feminine cries and moans. In all sorts of varied positions and poses that he hadn't fully understood even when they'd been going on at the time.
But at the end, with Tight on his mouth and Carmi riding his still hard cock, Mel realized he wasn't going to come the third round. Because as exciting as his time with the girls were, the three of them just didn't connect. That their sex play was nothing more than an act in a drama he had no interest being involved in. 'Bumping uglies' is what he'd heard Bishop describe the sex act as during one of their after work conversations while Mel had nursed a beer.
A crude expression for the crude thin
gs he'd done on Sunday.
Nothing close to the beauty he'd shared with Lulu the night before.
And, for the first time since his parents had died, Mel found a lump hovering in his throat at Lulu's flat out rejection of him.
*.*.*.*.*
I guess you really showed him! my mind crowed as I whipped my little car into the busy traffic from out onto HC's less travelled side street. But there was a curious lack of triumph in my mind's boast at what I'd said and how I'd reacted to seeing Mel.
Reinventing Mel: A Hellion MC Novel Page 12
