by Joanna Wylde
Technically, those weren’t allowed—too much of a distraction. I could appreciate a good distraction as much as the next guy, but seeing Peaches wearing one earlier today had been enough to convince me that maybe the school should enforce that rule.
Being a helpful kind of guy, I’d pointed that out to Peaches. Fortunately, her arms were a lot shorter than mine. Made it easy to just hold her back when she tried to punch me.
“You’re too young for a club party,” I told Holly, which was kind of unfair. We were the same age. But I wasn’t like other high school seniors. I’d been born old, and the club was in my blood. The guys would eat Holly alive.
She took a step closer, the move almost predatory. Then a wave of her perfume hit me. Heavy and musky, and not in the good kind of way. I flashed back to the last time I’d fucked her.
That shit was potent, and it didn’t wash off.
“You sure about that?” she asked, raising a hand and placing it on my chest. Then her eyelashes started flapping. The move was supposed to be sexy, but it came off more like a butterfly having a seizure.
“Not gonna happen,” I said, reaching up and gently pushing away her hand. Then I turned toward my locker. We still had a few minutes to make it to class, but the conversation was over.
Holly didn’t take the cue to leave.
“What do you think Mark sees in her?” she asked, sounding annoyed.
“Who?” I asked, then realized I’d fucked up. I knew damned well who she was talking about. Peaches and Mark McDougal had been dating for a month. Quarterback and cheerleader—the perfect cliché. They made out in the hall and sat together at lunch. It was cute and adorable and complete bullshit.
Mark was fucking at least two other girls on the side.
“Peaches Taylor,” Holly said. “I know she’s hot as hell, but she’s not gonna fuck him. She’s still a virgin.”
“Why do you care?” I asked, keeping my tone casual. I’d been wondering if Mark had gotten to her yet. Fucker. “Nothing to do with us.”
Holly laughed. “This school is too small for you to get away with that, Eli. You’re hung up on her.”
I turned back to her, frowning.
“My uncle was kinda her stepdad for a while. He likes me to keep an eye out for her. That’s all.”
Holly raised a brow, calling silent bullshit. “You’re not going to invite me to that party no matter what I say, right?”
“Nope.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Okay, then will you at least mention me to Bryce? I heard he’s single again.”
“You don’t want to hook up with Bryce.”
“Not your decision to make,” she countered. It was a good point, but Bryce was thirty years old. Not only that, he had four kids by four different women. Holly and I had never been anything more than casual, but I had enough respect for her to think she could do better. “And I know it’s none of my business, but if you turn around right now, you’ll see what Mark’s about to do to the girl you don’t care about.”
Keeping it casual, I grabbed my bag and then turned around, taking in the hallway full of students doing everything but studying. Part of me noted Jenny Woelfel and her pack of mean girls huddled off to the right, sharpening their knives.
On the left was a clump of cheerleaders and football players. Peaches and Mark were with them. Mark stepped into Peaches’ space, herding her back toward the wall of lockers, using his bulk to surround her.
He might not’ve fucked her yet, but he would soon.
I swallowed, reminding myself that she was sixteen now. It wasn’t my place to step in, regardless of what Gus said.
“Wanna tell me again that you’re not hung up on her?” Holly asked, her tone light and mocking. I didn’t bother denying it this time. Jesus Christ, but I hated the way Peaches looked at him. Of all the guys she could choose, why him?
Mark McDougal was a piece of shit.
A spoiled, entitled asshole who’d never had to work. Never suffered or been alone.
Never had to fight for a goddamned thing.
His dad was a lawyer. Sleazy as hell, and a bully, too. Fucker sued anyone and everyone, draining their pockets until they settled with him just to make it end. He’d even gone after one of my club brothers over a fifty-dollar oil change at his garage.
Now, Mark was leaning down into Peaches, one of his hands rubbing up and down her arm as he whispered something to her.
She flushed, all pretty and nervous and giggly. Clueless. She was nothing more than a trophy for him. A pretty, popular toy to fuck for a while until he got bored or left for college.
Sure, I wanted to fuck Peaches, too. But I also wanted good things for her. Well, mostly good things. I wanted to do a couple of bad things…
Mark’s head tilted, and I watched as his lips covered hers. The kiss started off soft, but within seconds, their bodies were pressed together all the way. Then the hand that’d been tracing her arm reached down to find her ass, gripping one cheek tightly. If she’d been wearing anything but jeans, his fingers would be buried in her ass. Whatever hatred I’d felt before doubled. Tripled.
I didn’t just hate the fucker, I realized. I wanted to end him.
Someone gave a wolf whistle, and Peaches froze. Then her hands pushed at Mark, almost frantic as she realized what a show they’d been putting on. For an instant, the asshole ignored her attempt to get away.
Please, God, give me this one. Let me kill him.
I’d just stepped toward them when Mark pulled away. Peaches’ cheeks were still flushed and red, but this time, she looked embarrassed.
Christ, she must have it bad. She’d forgotten where they were, and if Mark had any doubt about how easy it’d be to take her before, he wouldn’t now. Just then, the asshole glanced in my direction. Our eyes met, and he gave me a slow smile.
Fucker reached down and grabbed his sack, deliberately adjusting himself.
Holly hadn’t been wrong. The school was too damned small. Mark knew I wanted Peaches. I’d warned more than one guy off of her this past year.
“What’d you do to piss him off—?” Holly said, but I didn’t catch the rest. I was already striding toward Mark, hands fisted with angry tension. Someone needed to teach that pissant a lesson about respect.
That’s when Peaches stepped in front of me, pushing a hand against my chest.
“Stop,” she snapped, and the softness on her face was gone. This wasn’t Peaches, the girl who’d just gotten embarrassed by kissing in the hallway.
Nope, this was my old enemy. The tough, strong girl who’d put snakes in my bed.
Instinct kicked in.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, taunting her. “Afraid your boyfriend can’t take me? Or is it that he isn’t enough? I wasn’t planning on fucking you with my mouth for an audience…but if you’re wondering how it’s done right, I could help you out.”
Her eyes flashed, and the hand on my chest pulled back to slap me. I caught it, blocking her easily enough.
“Go to hell, Eli,” she hissed. “This is my life. You don’t get a vote.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I said, savoring the anger on her face. Mark stepped up behind her and put a possessive hand on her shoulder.
I was bigger than he was. Tougher, too. I knew it, and he knew it, but if we got into a fight here, I’d be the one hauled out by the cops.
“Careful,” I said, catching and holding Mark’s gaze. Peaches might stand between us, but she was short enough for us to stare each other down. “She’s club property, you know?”
“Shut the fuck up, Eli!” Peaches said.
“This isn’t one of your little games,” Mark added, sounding bored. “I’m not scared of you, King. You bikers may think you run things around here, but you’re just a bunch of tweakers and losers.”
Peaches stilled, and I felt storm clouds gathering. Then she jerked her arm free of mine and turned on Mark.
“Gus is like my dad,” she
snarled. Good girl. Her mom and Gus might’ve broken up, but she still found her way out to our place at least one night a week. Peaches and Gus were family.
Mark had just fucked up. Big time.
“I didn’t mean it like—” he tried to say, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand. I smiled as the bell rang. All around us, students seemed torn between heading to class and watching the show.
“Most bikers are really great people,” she continued. “And Gus doesn’t use drugs. Don’t go saying shit about people unless you actually know what you’re talking about.”
With that, she shoved Mark out of her way. Every step she took radiated anger as she snagged a backpack leaning against one of the lockers. She slung it over her shoulder with one hand and raised the other to flip us off over her head as she joined the stream of kids heading to class.
Within seconds, the hall cleared out, leaving Mark and me still facing each other. We’d be late unless we got moving, but I had an advantage over him in this particular situation. He cared about his grades. Me? Not so much.
“You hurt that girl, and they’ll never find your body,” I said casually, offering him my best smile. “Consider yourself warned.”
Mark swallowed, and I almost laughed. He might act tough, but the fucker was a coward once the witnesses were gone.
“She doesn’t belong to you,” he said, his voice wavering. My smile got bigger.
“Nope, but she belongs to Gus,” I replied, casually cracking my knuckles. “Don’t think of me as a guy you go to school with. Think of me as Gus’s eyes and ears. And fists.”
Mark’s mouth opened, then closed again.
Like a goldfish.
I couldn’t help myself, I started laughing. My work might be done for now, but I couldn’t help but catch him with my shoulder hard enough to knock him off balance as I walked away.
Mark started cussing, scrambling to stay upright. I didn’t bother turning around to see if he’d fallen. I was too busy enjoying the moment.
Football practice was ugly that afternoon.
I wasn’t really the football type, but I was big and fast. Had been a starter on offense and defense since junior year, although given how small the school was, it sounded more impressive than it actually was.
Coach had been in a bad mood, and it was contagious. First, he’d bitched us out for lack of team unity, then he’d divided us into two teams to scrimmage. Things got dark when Mark’s friends decided to put all their energy into tackling me instead of going for the ball.
Things got even darker when I sacked Mark’s ass on the next play.
Coach really lost his shit then, and we spent the rest of the afternoon running the bleachers. Fucking brutal. By the time we hit the locker room, I was ready to kill someone. Grabbing my bag, I cut between rows of lockers toward the door.
That’s when I heard Mark’s voice on the other side.
“Think I’ll fuck her in the ass while I’m at it,” he said, and he sounded just as angry as I felt. I stilled, something deep inside of me going cold and dark. One of his friends laughed, but it sounded nervous.
“Dude, are you sure about this?” another guy asked. It sounded like Troy, but I wasn’t sure. “She’s into you. It’s gonna be easy. Why take the risk?”
“It’s not a risk,” Mark answered. “She won’t even remember it if I do it right. And if she does, it’ll be her word against mine. Not like anyone will believe her. She might be pretty and popular, but she comes from trash.”
She comes from trash.
Fuck.
Me.
Time seemed to slow because I could see the whole thing playing out in my head. Peaches might be into Mark, but she was still a virgin—not necessarily a sure thing. And now he had something to prove.
A detached section of my brain noted that I should talk to the club president after I finished with Mark. The asshole apparently had roofies, and he’d gotten them from someone—someone that didn’t belong to us.
The club wasn’t a big fan of freelancers setting up shop in Hallies Falls.
And I wasn’t a big fan of Mark fucking Peaches in the ass, either.
He was still talking, but I tuned him out, considering my next step carefully. Didn’t really matter what the details were at this point. I knew everything I needed to know about Mark and his plans.
The only open question now was one of control. Realistically, would I be able to control myself enough not to kill him?
It was a serious question.
If I jumped him in the parking lot, there’d be witnesses. That was bad because I might find myself arrested. Or suspended. That’d complicate my life considerably.
On the other hand, if there were witnesses, I’d have to control myself, and there’d only be so much time before the cops arrived, which put a natural limit on the damage I could inflict.
“Can a girl on roofies give a blowjob?” one of the guys asked, and I had my answer.
Better to get arrested for assault than murder. And if I ever caught Mark McDougal alone, I’d definitely kill him. I’d take him down in the parking lot. That’d send a message to every guy in the high school, too.
Peaches Taylor might not come from money, but she had people.
People who’d stand up for her.
She’d probably hate me for doing it, but that was nothing new. She’d always hated me. Wasn’t like I had much to lose.
Wasn’t like she’d believe me if I just tried to warn her off, either. Hell, if I told her the sky was blue, she’d insist it was green just to spite me.
Decision made, I started toward the door again, making for the parking lot. Mark still needed to shower, which meant I had some time to kill. Might as well use it productively. That fancy car his daddy’d given him was real shiny. Too shiny. A few scratches would do it some good…
Maybe I’d write a little message with my keys. That way, all the girls would know what to expect from him on a date. Hell, it was practically a public service.
Just the thought made me smile. Pulling out my cell phone, I hit the call button. Gus answered on the third ring.
“What’s going on?” he asked, gruff as always.
“Probably gonna need some bail money,” I told him. “And a lawyer.”
Gus sighed, the same one he gave when he realized he needed to swap out a keg. “All right, then. I’ll call the club. This about Peaches?”
“You don’t wanna know the details,” I replied, tilting my head to the side so I could crack my neck. “I’ll take care of this one. No reason both of us should get locked up tonight.”
Chapter Five
Present day
Two weeks after getting the news about the bar
~Peaches~
“So, I ran the numbers,” I said, handing my mom a can of Diet Coke. Then I climbed up onto the couch and crossed my legs, leaning against the arm.
“What numbers?”
The question came from James. He walked casually across the living room, coming to a stop next to my mom. His hand settled on her shoulder. I scowled because he wasn’t supposed to be part of this conversation. The fact that he’d married my mom didn’t make him part of my family.
“I was just calculating how many pairs of used panties I have to sell online before I have enough money to buy the Starkwood,” I said, my voice sweet.
James raised a brow.
“And?” he asked. I frowned.
“And, what?”
“How many would you have to sell?” he elaborated, his face solemn. Holy shit. Did he think I was serious? For the thousandth time, I wondered how my crazy, wild, fun-loving mom had gone from Gus to a guy like this.
An accountant.
Well, a former accountant. He’d gotten into land development and real estate years ago, but spreadsheets were his first love.
“About fifteen thousand,” I told him. “But I hear you can order them in bulk for discounts.”
“Please tell me you just made that number
up,” my mom said.
“Nope,” I admitted, wishing she was right. “I researched it. You can get about twenty-five bucks a pair on a fetish site…and you can do upgrades. Like, if I don’t wipe—”
“I’ll give you twenty-five dollars not to finish that sentence,” Mom said, shuddering. James absently rubbed her shoulder, his expression thoughtful.
He always looked thoughtful.
I wondered if the expression ever changed. Like, say someone was going down on him, would he still look so…thoughtful? I pictured it and then realized that my mom would be the one doing the going down. And now I was the one shuddering in horror.
“So, you’d need three hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars to buy the bar?” James asked. “Based on gross, of course. You’d probably have to sell closer to twenty thousand pairs, given shipping and overhead. I don’t know what the Starkwood’s cash flow is, but three seventy-five seems low to me. Does it include the building, too?”
I studied James for a moment, trying to decide if he slept in a bed, or if Mom just shut him into a pod at night to recharge. Mom took a drink, sighing. She knew what I was thinking. We’d had this discussion before. But no matter how many times she tried to tell me that James was the man for her, I couldn’t see it.
It wasn’t that he was ugly. The guy was okay to look at. But there was no life in him. He was more of a robot than anything else…
I realized the automaton was waiting for an answer.
“It includes the building, the land,” I told him. “All of it. At least, that’s what Gus said would work when we talked about it. I don’t have the income to qualify for a loan, but Gus said he’d carry the contract. Eli can give him cash, though.”
“Hmm…”
“It doesn’t matter, baby,” Mom chimed in. “You don’t want to buy that place anyway. Trust me on that. There’s a lot more to running the Starkwood than you think.”
“I’ve been managing it unofficially for years,” I pointed out. “Still am. Although I haven’t gotten my raise yet. Not until the papers are signed. Eli promised me more money than Gus is willing to pay.”
