He’d turned towards the bathroom before he realized he needed to go back into the kitchen in order to take care of his new wound. And as he put his fist under the running water, he considered his next move.
More than anything else, he wanted to call Dee and didn’t rightly give a rat’s ass that it was after two in the morning! To give him the full 4-1-1 on what she and the other bitches had put his woman through. And if she wasn’t willing to ‘fess up, he’d fucking make her even if he had to haul his ass all the way to Spokane to do it!
Bishop hung his head, keeping his hand under the icy water knowing in his heart of heart’s that wasn’t the way to play it. That kicking Dee’s ass, even if only verbally, wouldn’t take away his guilt, couldn’t make up for his own behavior.
Because none of it would cause a rewind so he could just fucking go back and change the past. One that would find him and Dory still married, raising J.R. together, all of them in one house. Living, loving and laughing together.
Resting his elbows on the edge of the sink, he dropped his face into his forearms. What was it his granddad used to say? Wish in one hand and shit in the other, Stan. Figure out which one fills up faster.
Yeah, that was just about the size of it. A lesson to teach him that wishing didn’t do shit, didn’t change one goddamn thing. The measure of a man isn’t in how he wishes, but in what he fuckin’ does, little man.
So maybe it was time for the big, bad biker to step up to the plate, to man up and claim what he wanted. What he’d always wanted.
Perhaps it was fucking time to stop dicking around and start wooing his ex-wife.
*.*.*.*.*
I turned and punched the pillow before laying down and draped the comforter back over me, trying to find a more comfortable position in the bed. One that seemed entirely too large without Stan in it.
But I couldn’t seem to find that sweet-spot, the one that would provide enough comfort and allow me to fall asleep.
Maybe it was because I could still smell him on the bedding, on the pillow and even on my skin. Or perhaps it was how he’d left without me having to demand it. Kissing me softly and oh-so thoroughly before he’d dragged on his jeans and thermal, snagging his jacket on his way out of my room.
“Later, babe,” he’d whispered with a quirked grin as he’d quietly left the house, had left me alone in the vastness of my bed.
That night, of all the nights we’d been together, had felt different somehow. Oh, there was still pleasure just as there always was when we got naked and rambunctious. But the air had held a note of poignancy as we came together, a certain hint of emotion that I couldn’t quite identify as we’d worked our naked mojo.
Stan had been quieter. Not trying in any way to pressure me into talking or cuddling. Not forcing me to see the bond we still shared. And because he hadn’t, I’d found myself admitting to shit that was probably best left in the past. But it had been playing on my mind, especially after talking with Dallas, Ryley and Carly as I’d worked their hair. On how much different the new order of women were compared to the Honeys I’d spent time around before.
This new hive reminded me of the stories Stan’s grandma had told. Of how the club, while a law unto themselves, had more than gotten along with the other people in Missoula, that they’d all been a part of the larger community. And that the credo of ‘live free and die’ was the expectation of how every damn human on the planet should think. No discriminating or judging because someone else held a different view from yours, that every person was allowed and even encouraged to find their own brand of happiness as long as no one else was hurt in the process.
But that had been far from my experience in my time in the Hive. A completely different attitude had somehow infected the group and though I gave it a lot of time, had tried to find my way in all the hate that permeated the group, I’d finally just taken myself out of the game.
Had taken myself so far away in order to finally breathe free, discover what happiness meant to me.
To just live the way I wanted even though I’d lost Stan, the love of my life in the process.
But had gained another when J.R. was born.
Flopping back onto my other side while giving my pillow another vicious punch, I found myself mumbling. “It’s just too damn bad I couldn’t have had them both at the same time!” And as I tucked the comforter higher on my shoulder, I heard a teeny, tiny voice coming from a small, deep place inside my chest. Asking a question I wasn’t sure I could answer, but that I found myself wanting to.
Why not, though? Why can’t you have them both at the same time?
Chapter Twenty Seven
“So since Teri’s parents said no to her going to the party full-stop, I was thinking of asking Bella,” J.R. announced.
Bishop and his son were working the various pieces of his Harley, stripping it down so he could show the kid all the internal doings of the engine and what a biker spent his time on in the dead of winter. And his boy had been yammering the entire time, talking of his friends, his classes and of some big blow-out the boy was planning to attend in the upcoming weekend. One that was, according to the calendar in Dory’s kitchen, Bishop’s.
“That the blonde or the one with the tits?” Bishop tried to cast his mind over all the girls J.R. had confessed drove his nightly wet-dreams but honest to Christ, he couldn’t keep up with them all.
J.R.’s eyebrows waggled at his father’s question but his eyes remained on the gear he was using a wire brush on. “Titties in abundance.”
Seriously? Had Bishop himself been that shallow at that age? A thought that had him grinning and turning his face away from his kid, reaching for a part that he was aware didn’t need any refurb. Yeah, he probably had. Thirteen had been hard since he’d been too old for kid shit and yet too young to be included in the adult stuff. Which is probably why ‘Lady C’ had made her appearance in his life around that time. As in hitting his coke pipe was his only way of balancing his teenaged emotions with real life.
“And since mom is going away for the weekend, I was hoping to bring whichever girl I could snag back to the house.”
Wait…what?
Dory was not going to be home?
“What do you mean? Your mom is going away?” Why did Bishop’s voice sound as tight and as dry as the emotions that were overtaking his insides?
“Yeah. She’s been fluttering around, packing up one of her fancy dresses and her heels. Lacy underwear and the skimpy nightgown she doesn’t know I know about.” The top of J.R.’s head should’ve burst into flames at the look Bishop knew he was boring into the teenager. And the shrug that lifted the wide but skinny shoulders didn’t help. “So would it be okay if you like, stayed at your place Saturday night, away from our house? Just in case, you know, I get lucky or something?”
But Bishop didn’t answer, couldn’t even fucking breathe as his mind churned and his heart dropped to somewhere around his knees. Dory was actually gonna do what he’d told her to do! What he’d motherfucking demanded she do when she’d challenged him about how they were gonna live separate lives while residing next door to one another.
Why?
Or more to the point, which motherfucker had a dick that she’d found so fuck-worthy?
“I’ll give you a couple of hours, but if your mom’s not in residence, I’ll be sleeping in her bed in her absence.” Sure, Bishop was aware he’d answered on a menacing growl but he couldn’t help it. “You know who she’s gonna go with, what she’s gonna be doing?”
“Naw,” came the calm reply before J.R. wiped at the metal piece in his hand with a greasy rag. “I asked but she blew me off.”
Motherfucker!
“When’s she leaving?” Christ it was hard to sound sane when he was feeling anything but.
“Tomorrow at noon. Said she’d be back after lunch on Sunday,” his kid immediately shot back, having absolutely no idea of the devastation his casually uttered words were creating. At how, in the midst of negotiating so
me alone time in order to get into some girl’s panties, his son had shattered his father’s world.
“You know where she is now?”
J.R. finally looked at his dad before shrugging again. “It’s Thursday, right? That means she’s probably teaching her master class.”
*.*.*.*.*
I walked around the room, overseeing my student’s first attempts at setting multi-toned highlights with foil packets in actual human hair. My feet were killing me and I was rethinking my pretty, knee-length heeled boots as the right choice in footwear when I’d known it was going to be a long day. Longer and more filled with crap than usual.
“Use the comb, Shea. The rat-tail of the comb will help you get the best crease and a better crease will let it sit closer to her head,” I offered quietly. Watching Shea do the adjustment as instructed I moved on.
But my mind wasn’t on the class.
Or my beautiful new boots.
Not really.
It was still in what I’d gone through earlier in the day. A day and all its revelations that had eaten through me in the hours since I’d first experienced them.
Which started when a certain Miss Carmi had wiggled her shapely, small but round ass into my chair.
The conversation had started civilly enough. Me ascertaining exactly what she wanted done as I’d dragged my fingers through her locks. A freshening of her perm that was going to be tricky since I could tell she’d bleached in the highlights.
No, the real of it had happened later. When the young girl’s shiny mouth had begun talking, going into areas I knew shouldn’t be explored. A conversation that shouldn’t have ever taken place.
“So you and our Bishop used to have a thing,” was her opening salvo, even though in that particular moment, I hadn’t recognized it had been launched in a gauging of the distance between us.
“We were married back in the day,” I’d replied with a small smile, remembering she’d been at the Labor Day party even while I finger-combed through her layers, trying to find the symmetry in her last cut. “But that was a long time ago.”
“Yeah, I got that. And that way back when, you butted heads with the Honeys who were with the former Hellion council.” The girl’s words were almost obscured by the popping of the huge wad of gum she had in her mouth. “I got there later, just at the end of that reign, but damn! Those were some dirty pieces of old man shit and their women weren’t much better.” I felt more than saw her eyes as she watched me and with one glance to our reflections, I saw Carmi was assessing me.
“But you handled yourself pretty good when Teeny and Lily started their shit. More than handled, if you want to know the truth. In fact, some of the hive are saying you handed them bitches their asses on a platter.” I only nodded at the young girl’s words as I tried to determine how to accomplish the miracle she wanted performed on her hair. “You know Dee’s gone, right?”
“So I heard,” I muttered, reaching for a comb and my shears. Frankly, I wished she’d just let me work my magic in silence but that wasn’t to be.
“And just after that bar-b-que, Teeny’s man, Jake got transferred to Billings.” Was there inquisitiveness in her tone or simple accusation? “Lily, on the other hand, moved to Northern Cal saying she was gonna live with her sister. And I know for a fuckin’ fact that those two never got along.”
I didn’t say a word, since there wasn’t anything I could say that didn’t expose my relief in having Lily and Teeny out of my town.
“That Dee, though,” she smacked, her jaws working her wad of gum quickly and firm as I began shaping her locks. “She started out hard from what I heard, not that I was around. Then her brother bought it in some kind of club war in Spokane. Some of the other Honeys have said him dying broke her in some way.” Carmi munched through a few more chews as I tilted her head down onto her chest. “Then when Big Duke was diagnosed and seemed to be eaten from the goddamn cancer he had? Yeah. That’s when I first met her. And to me, she was always sweet.”
I held back my snort of derision. Dee, sweet? Not goddamn likely.
Carmi was thankfully quiet for a time as I continued to cut, to coax a new shape into her hair.
“Listen, do you know if Bishop is seeing anyone?” She popped her gum and I glanced into the mirror to see her eyes were watching me closely. “It’s just that he’s one of the last Hellions on the council that’s single. I mean, there’s Dice but that brother is fucking crazy, the sort of crazy that a girl doesn’t want to be alone with. So Bishop is my last chance at getting a good place in the Hive. One of the movers and shakers within the club, ya know?”
I tried to keep my eyebrows from lifting in shock at her bald question as I looked at her reflection again. “How would I know?”
“I dunno. I hear he’s at your place a lot even though you two only share a kid.” She did another couple of chews that masticated her gum more thoroughly as she eyed me. “I ain’t into having any myself, but I could put up with the stupid rug-rat if Bishop was the prize.”
Jay-sus, was she serious? Didn’t she know how close J.R. and Stan were?
“And since he ain’t at the compound as much as he used to be, always having some shit to do at home, I figured you could put in a good word for me or something.” I blinked in order to focus on her hair while my mind raced. Was she asking me to pimp her out to my ex-husband?
“I mean, we’ve hit it before. Done the ol’ horizontal mambo more than a few times. And he’s good, not as awesome as Dare or even Trey, but Bish knows his way around pussy. Lately, though? Shit, he’s never at the clubhouse long enough for me to even get an in with him!”
“I need to get the rods and the solution ready,” I advised through lips that didn’t want to work. In essence, the little bitch, one I knew in just the few minutes we’d spent together, was just as cold-hearted as the old Honeys had been, yet wanted my man. Wanted Stan not because he was a wonderful man or because he was caring and sweet, but was a Hellion who could give her a hand up in gaining a better position within the Honeys.
Oh hello, no!
And I tried to think of a way to both shut her up and shut that kind of thinking down as I rolled the perm cart back to my station. But I couldn’t seem to come up with anything as I sectioned off her hair.
“I’m thinking he’s getting it from that new one, Sissy. I mean, every time I see him, she’s hanging off him. Laughing at his stupid jokes that don’t even make sense. Grabbing his arm when she talks and he leans in closer to listen to her stupid, kid-like voice. Yeah, she’s young. With her tits and ass still in all the right high places, but damn! She ain’t got nothing I ain’t got. And at least I learned how to work it, ya know?” Carmi seemed triumphant in the way she saw to fulfilling the Hellion brothers sexual needs.
I must’ve made a noise, must’ve given some indication that I was listening because the little slut continued.
“And the two of them take off for hours before he comes back. I’ve even checked and every time she’s around, the key-slot for room number four is missing. Which everyone and their mother knows is Bishop’s room. That if he’s on the property, number four is Bishop’s room.”
Oh shit. The number four room was where I’d seen our old bedroom suite!
Since I was then rolling the top-front area of Carmi’s head, I saw her eyes narrow and her ever-moving lips thin. “Yeah, I bet that little bitch is offering herself up to him. Giving him exactly what he needs so that she can elbow the rest of us aside in order to get in with him good. To take a position on the inner circle so she can tell the rest of us what to do. The stupid cunt!”
It was at that moment, I realized that on my weekends according to our calendar, Stan hadn’t been around. That there’d been no trace of him or his truck from Friday through Sunday afternoon at least once a month since I’d moved into the Henderson place.
And by putting two-and-two together, it wasn’t hard to figure out why.
“So if you could talk to him, Debby…”
/> “It’s Dory,” I corrected. I was so done with listening to not only her words but her stupid wheedling voice that I was going to goddamn scream if she didn’t simply shut the freak up. “For what it’s worth, he’s more involved with our son than with me, but I’ll see what I can do.”
The little bitch-in-training smiled at me as if just shooting her teeth at me would ease the tension between us. “That’d be great, honey! Thanks!”
And I got on trying to perform a miracle on the straw little Miss Carmi called hair.
*.*.*.*.*
But my day had only gotten worse as I’d seen Marian Chirge, current owner and queen bee of Missoula Mousse enter my shop, trying to throw her weak-assed brand of hate around as she demanded to speak with me.
Crystal, my new receptionist who was sweet and nice, organized and helpful, shot her eyes to mine and I’d realized it was a plea for help.
“I’m Dory Leone,” I said as I strutted towards the other woman, an older one who obviously hadn’t been the recipient of all the beauty treatments her shop boasted. “How can I help?”
Marian’s eyes skimmed me from stem to stern as she re-hitched her purse on her shoulder. “By getting right the fuck out of town, that’s how!”
Stopping three feet from her, noting the high spots of color in her face and the whiff of some kind of alcohol on her breath, I cocked a hip.
I’d had it up to there with being forced to deal with feminine attitudes of any variety, especially after Carmi!
“Since that’s not going to happen in the near or far future,” I offered with a slow smile. “You might want to be a little more specific.”
I saw her puff out her small chest, a move that caused her heavy coat to fall open, allowing me to view her hard, sharp collarbones exposed by her gaping top. It was, suffice it to say, not a pretty sight. “You’re stealing MM’s clients and I won’t stand for it!”
Checkmate With Bishop: A Hellions MC Novel Page 27
