It’s debatable whether Scarlet started stripping first, or if it was Nate that who tested the waters of the adult industry and Scarlet followed, but either way, they both wound up in the same position; sharing their bodies but never their hearts.
“Call her,” Patrick urges, leaning against my back. Calling Scarlet is the last thing I want to do, but I will because it’s been four days since we’ve laid eyes on Mia after she ditched us at the hospital, and I want to know why. But more than that, I need to know she’s okay. Patrick has barely slept after coming home with me that first night, and aside from the meeting he had with his brothers at the clubhouse, he hasn’t left my side. We take separate showers, neither of us wanting to miss Mia’s call on the off chance she contacts us, and we sleep in shifts when we can manage to close our eyes for more than a few seconds at a time.
I’ve been craving Patrick’s touch, the intimacy of his hands roaming my skin and his mouth on mine, but other than a few chaste kisses, it doesn’t feel right to lose ourselves in each other’s bodies while the other half of our hearts is missing.
Burying my face in the hollow of his throat, Patrick wraps his arm around me and rolls us to our sides. His solid weight is reassuring, acting as an anchor because in truth, emotionally, I’m barely hanging on.
“We’ll find her, Austin. And when we do, we’ll bring her home,” he whispers into my hair.
“Yeah, but in the meantime, not knowing where she is is killing me.” “Me too, but at least we’ve got each other. I’m here, Austin, and I’m not going anywhere,” he implores, stroking his rough palm down the center of my spine.
“Fine, I’ll call Scarlet,” I concede, flopping onto my back and throwing an arm over my eyes. Patrick’s lips touch mine briefly before I feel his weight leave our bed.
I hear him padding across the carpet toward the bathroom as images of him standing wet, naked, and aroused under the showerhead filter through my over-sexed brain.
The last time I got off was more than a week ago, and it was to visions of the very man now soaping himself up in my shower, meaning my balls are close to exploding and my cock is going to go on strike if it doesn’t get some relief soon. And while I’d love nothing more than to lie here naked and wait for Patrick to finish up, so that he can take the edge off for both of us, now isn’t the time. I don’t know when the right time is just yet, but I sure as fuck hope it’s soon because this is sheer torture.
Deciding that I need a distraction or I’m going to give in and fuck Patrick how I’ve wanted to for days, I bite the bullet, and I dial Scarlet’s number. The only reason I have it, to begin with, is because recently Nate went out of town for work and asked me to check in on her from time to time. Something Scarlet didn’t particularly appreciate since she’s a grown ass woman, after all. Her words, not mine.
“Oh, Austin. You and the motorcycle man fucked up bad,” she imparts by way of greeting.
“Give it to me straight, Scarlet. On a scale of one to ten, how bad?”
“Since one hundred and sixty-two isn’t an option, I’m going to go with a ten.”
“Just tell me she’s okay,” I say, not remotely trying to disguise the desperation lacing my tone. Scarlet must cover the mouthpiece because her voice is muffled as she relays something to whoever is there with her. Papers crinkle, and I hear a door click shut before she comes back on the line.
“I’m only confirming she’s here because I think it’s in Mia’s best interests that she talks to you, but don’t get your hopes up just yet. First, I want you to answer some questions for me, then based on your answers, we can work out how to convince her to at least hear you out.”
“Wait,” she shouts in my ear frantically. “Before you say anything, I want you to know whatever you say stays between us. I get that you don’t know me very well, but I promise you I can keep a secret, so yours are safe with me.”
“I’m done with secrets, Scarlet,” I share suddenly exhausted at the prospect of having this conversation with her. “What is it you want to know?”
Scarlet launches into her questioning and doesn’t pull any punches. She wants to know how Mia and I met, if what she’s been told is true, that Patrick and I want a polyamorous relationship with Mia, and why we didn’t tell her sooner. I answer her honestly, and without hesitation, that is, until her last question.
“What if she can’t do it, Austin?”
“I don’t follow.” “What if Mia just isn’t cut out for the kind of relationship you and Jump need? I’m not passing judgment here because as far as I’m concerned, whatever gets you off, have at it, but I’m not Mia. She hasn’t been exposed to the things we have in our lines of work. She’s far from naïve, but I highly doubt a ménage relationship with two smoking hot men is something she ever remotely considered before now.”
“That’s why we have to talk to her, Scarlet,” I implore. While I don’t disagree, Scarlet and I have seen some fucked up things in our time – what with my job on the police force and hers as an erotic dancer – I don’t think Mia is quite as closed off to the idea of a three-way relationship as Scarlet believes she is.
I’ve seen the flare of heat in Mia’s eyes and the blush rise on her cheeks when I whispered all the things I’d like to do to her. I was honest with her when I told Mia that I’d like to see her tied to my headboard with one cock in her ass and another lodged in her tight, wet cunt. My filthy fantasies didn’t stop there, and neither did my mouth.
As I thrust my cock into her mouth, I gave Mia a detailed description of how it would feel to be fucked by two men at the same time.
How the walls of her pussy would become so sensitive that every brush of my cock as it tunneled inside her would cause her to orgasm. Mia may have flushed bright red at the images I was feeding her, but there was no denying she was interested. More than.
When my fingers eventually found her pussy lips, they were covered in her cream. She was soaking wet and ready for me to make her come at just the thought of taking two cocks inside her body, so I could only imagine hot it would make her if she were ever faced to be faced with the prospect in real life.
“I understand you guys have the bro code and all, but we women have a code too; sisters before misters. And just so you know, me even talking to you, let alone telling you she may possibly have some banking to do at say, midday tomorrow, is breaking every rule in the Best Friend Handbook,” Scarlet replied begrudgingly.
“It’ll be our secret,” I smile to myself. “Oh, fuck no. You and I don’t have secrets. I’ll tell Mia myself that I ratted her out, but just not until after you and Jump give her the happily ever after she deserves.”
Sighing heavily into the phone, Scarlet shows the barest hint of a vulnerable side I’ve always known she was hiding.
“Mia’s different. I couldn’t work her out at first; I figured she was just shy, maybe even a little fragile and that’s why I was having trouble forming a friendship with her.
Sure, she’s sweet and kind, and all that other great shit, but I always wondered
if there was more to her than what she chose to outwardly show everyone. It’s nice to know I was right.”
“How so?” I prod, wanting Scarlet to expound on her observations. “I took an undergraduate psychology course in college and learned that there are textbook cases of neglect or abuse, and then there’s Mia. You’d expect after what that dickbag back in Phoenix went through she would be reserved, avoid any sort of physical contact, especially with men, and have trouble trusting people, but Mia didn’t react like that. If anything she was the complete opposite. Friends’ of women who have been attacked say that they see marked differences in behavior afterward. For lack of a better way to explain it, these permanently women’s core personalities are permanently altered as a result.”
Scarlet isn’t telling me anything I don’t know, except that she’d studied psychology. Or, for that matter, gone to college at all. As far as I knew, and everything I know about Scarlet has come fr
om Nate, she didn’t want to leave Lower Falls after high school, so she took up a job stripping when nothing else was available. How college fits into that picture is beyond me, but Scarlet isn’t a liar, and I have no reason to doubt the authenticity of what she’s saying.
As for Duncan Richards sexually assaulting Mia, that information I’d found out for myself. I sensed Mia was holding back from me, not just physically but emotionally too, and I wanted to know why.
I couldn’t simply wrap my heart up, slap a bow on it, and hand it over to her in one neat, tidy package without knowing whether she was even capable of feeling that way toward me. So I did what any good detective would do and investigated.
It broke my heart to learn that the woman I was falling for was the victim of an assault. My protective instinct rallied at me for not finding her sooner, so that I at least had a chance of preventing it. But I hadn’t, found her sooner, that is. And I couldn’t beat myself up over something I had no control over. However, no matter how many times I berated myself the helplessness I felt wasn’t alleviated until Duncan got the karma that was coming to him.
During one of our late night conversations in bed, Patrick mentioned something about me visiting Sarge, and in my head, I cursed the old man for not telling him the truth while he had the chance. It’s true, I did go and see Sarge, but only because he needed a favor, not the other way around.
***** Stepping up onto Sarge’s porch, I knocked briefly, only to hear him call out,
“‘Round the back.”
Sarge was standing beside a recently split pile of logs, his axe propped against the garden shed, and sweat dripping from his brow.
I’d known this man most of my life, grew up seeing him and the other members of Vengeance MC around town and when they frequented my dad’s hardware store. After a while, you’d think a person would get used to the air of danger that emanated from these guys, but you’d be wrong. I was still just as affected today as I was back then, and the fact Sarge had an ax in arms reach didn’t make things any better.
“Why’d you call me, Sarge? What is it you want?” I asked tersely. I was frustrated that I’d had to drive out into the middle of nowhere on my lunch break, and I didn’t have time for small talk. If Sarge wanted something from me, he was going to need to fucking spell it out because I had better shit to do with my down time.
“Good to see you too, son,” he grinned, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a rag he pulled out of his back pocket.
Massaging my temples to try and stave off the migraine I felt building, I snorted at his greeting.
“Save us both the time and bullshit and cut to the chase. I’m here, so just tell me what you want?”
“Jump’s found himself in some trouble, and I need you to see what you can do about getting him out of it,” he explains without telling me a goddamn thing.
“What kind of trouble are we talking about here? The kind that’ll have him seeing the inside of a prison cell for the next fifteen to twenty, or the kind that has me taking care of a few outstanding parking tickets?”
“The kind that’s not as bad as the first, but not as easy to make disappears as the second,” Sarge says unhelpfully.
Losing my patience, I snap, “Just fucking tell me. What’s he done, and how bad is it this time?” Sarge and I aren’t strangers to this dance. He calls me, I come. He asks me to use my connections to make Patrick’s arrest warrants vanish, and I do it. The only thing I’ve ever asked in return is that Sarge keeps my involvement to himself. How he does that, how explains to his brothers and Patrick that the charges against him have miraculously been dropped, I don’t care. So long as my name isn’t mentioned, he can tell them whatever the fuck he wants.
For years, I’ve erased departmental records, buried arrest reports, and pulled strings to have Patrick’s drug charges disappear. Hearing that the man I was in love with had delved further into a life I wanted no part in gutted me, but even though I was disappointed in hi and fucking livid at the men he chose over me, I couldn’t allow him to be locked up. Patrick wouldn’t survive a month in a six by six cell, let alone years. Not only is detoxing a bitch at the best of times but in jail, that shit is cruel and unusual punishment. And Patrick was so far down that rabbit hole, he would undoubtedly suffer exponentially.
“I can’t keep doing this,” I finally admitted, not just to Sarge but to myself as well.
With a sad shake of his head, Sarge mutters, “I know.”
“This has to be the last time, Sarge. If he wants to waste his life being a junkie and end up dead in a fucking gutter somewhere, then so be it.” It hurt to say those words out loud, but that didn’t make them any less true. Giving up on Patrick wasn’t my intention, but I also couldn’t stand around and watch him destroy himself from a distance anymore, either. If Patrick wanted help, he had plenty of it. However, he didn’t want it, and no one could force him to accept help for something he wasn’t even ready to admit yet.
“Right,” Sarge conceded somewhat hesitantly. “Have you got any contacts on the force in Arizona?”
“One or two. Why?” “Chester County lockup. Jump’s been there since four o’clock yesterday afternoon. Our lawyer made contact with the clerk at the courthouse, and he’s being arraigned tomorrow at ten.”
“Charges?” I bit out through gritted teeth. “Assault. Breaking and entering. Possession of an unlicensed firearm. And a misdemeanor for the stash they found when they searched him,” Sarge relays curtly.
“How much?”
“Less than an ounce, that’s why it’s a misdemeanor, not possession with the intent to distribute.”
Groaning, I ask, “And the rest? I take it he was in Arizona doing a job for the club.”
“No,” he denies. “This one was personal.” That’s when Sarge explained exactly why Patrick was happy to sit in a cell and bide his time, even at the prospect of a ten-year sentence. He hadn’t protested his innocence, and he wasn’t going to plead not guilty. As far as Patrick was concerned, beating the man who sexually assaulted the woman he’d come to care about was justified, and I didn’t disagree. In fact, this was the first time ever, that I can unequivocally say I would have done exactly the same thing.
Needless to say, I called in every favor I had owing and a few I’d have to return in the future and sprung Patrick from lockup. The charges were eventually dropped since the prosecutor claimed there wasn’t enough evidence to go ahead with the case. And Sarge kept his promise. I didn’t hear from him again.
***** Scarlet clears of her throat bringing me back to the present as she says,
“I suppose what I’m getting at is that if you take Mia at face value, she comes across as weak and vulnerable, but when you get to know her, you learn she’s anything but. Strength isn’t always about what we can see, Austin, and in Mia’s case, hers comes from a place deep inside that can’t be touched by the atrocities of the outside world.”
I hadn’t quite thought of it like that, but what Scarlet says makes complete sense.
“Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you, Austin?” Scarlet asks when I don’t respond.
“In part.” Scarlet snorts at my obvious ploy to get her to expound further because let’s be honest, I don’t have the first fucking clue about how this relates to our current circumstances.
“What I’m trying to tell you is that Mia being like she makes her perfect for you and Jump. She has an inner strength that will carry her through the tough times at the beginning of your relationship when people do nothing but pass judgment and shun the three of you for engaging in something they don’t understand. And believe me, Austin; it will happen because in general, people are assholes. Just do me a favor and treat her like the queen she is.”
“But then again, that shouldn’t be an issue since there are two of you to cater to her every whim,” she finishes with a smile in her voice.
After we’ve worked out the details on how Patrick and I are going to approach Mia, Scarlet hang
s up promising to text me if anything changes. Excitement races through my veins at the prospect of seeing Mia again and part of me doesn’t want to wait until tomorrow. But the more rational side, the side I’d love to ignore, tells me to be patient – to follow the plan Scarlet and I devised.
“You get a hold of her,” Patrick inquires from the doorway. “Yeah,” I nod. “Our girl is applying for a business loan at First National Bank and Trust tomorrow at twelve. Dan Murphy, the bank manager, is handling the appointment and just happens to be one of Scarlet’s regular clients at the strip club. She offered him a free private dance if he’d conveniently make himself absent a few minutes after Mia arrives, so I’d say we owe her big time.”
“Jesus,” Patrick grunts with a small grin tipping the corners of his lips. “Now I kinda feel sorry for her.”
“Yeah, me too.” Dan Murphy is a short, fat, balding, chauvinist that thinks his shit doesn’t stink.
To hear Dan tell it, his job carries the same responsibility as the man who sits at the head of the table in the Oval Office. In truth, he’s a little man with a big man complex, a tiny dick that couldn’t satisfy his wife so she left him, who’s reduced to paying for lap dances because God knows no woman would voluntarily touch him. So, yeah, I absofucking-lutely feel sorry for Scarlet having to give that asshole three minutes of her time.
“Have you got any idea how you want to play this? With Mia, I mean. She’s not exactly going to run to us with open arms,” he mutters.
“Not clue,” I confess. “I was hoping you’d have some suggestions.” “Let me sleep on it,” Patrick rasps against the sensitive skin on my neck. “Now come here. I’ve got something I want to try.”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN ~ Mia~
“It’s sadwhenthefive-yearold’s Iteachare morematurethan theman I’m dating.”
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