by Hart, Eve R.
I might have been okay with my size if it wasn’t for the gazillion woman that came in and out of this place with their huge bazoombas bouncing around all perfect and pretty. It was no secret that men liked boobs, well, the straight ones. Maybe gay men liked boobs too. Hmmm… I mean they could, in different ways, I guess.
Anyway.
My head shook as I got myself back on track.
I needed some kind of action, that much was clear. But I knew better than to think I was going to find it around here. There was like this off-limits bubble around me for some stupid reason. I had been interested in a few of the brothers and you know how many of those worked out. None. Zero. Zilch. Yep, because none of them saw me as anything other than Abigail, Dade’s little sister and amazing woman that cooked the best food ever. Okay, that last part was me being hopeful. But by the way everyone seemed grateful for the food I cooked, I imagined that maybe I wasn’t far off with that statement. And yes, I realized that I was more than that, but I wasn’t much more. I wasn’t a sexy woman that they just had to get naked and ravage.
Ravage?
Did I want to be ravaged?
My head cocked to the side as I thought about it.
Yes. Yes, I wanted to be ravaged and devoured and pleasured until I didn’t know which end was up. That was a thing that happened right? I’d heard the girls talking about orgasms so great they were mind-blowing. I had never had one before, but my sexual experiences had been more awkward fumbling and choppy thrusting more than anything.
Sigh.
One day I’d find a man that could make my head pop off.
I mean, not literally because that would be weird and gross… and what the hell would he be shooting out of his junk to make my head pop off?
Oh, my… yeah, okay. I needed to change thought tracks again.
I swear I wasn’t crazy.
I pushed open the door to my room with a heavy, frustrated sigh. Thinking about sex never made me feel anxious or nervous. I welcomed it. But since I wasn’t getting it— and hadn’t for a long time, it just made me feel sad and a little bitter.
Yeah, yeah, I was still young and had all the time in the world. It wasn’t something I had to have right now. Huge eye roll here and all. Come on, it was hard not to want it when it was constantly around me. The girls walking around with their sex hair and talking about how amazing their men were in the sack. The barely clothed women that traipsed around here at night with their smeared lipstick and glazed over eyes, and I knew it wasn’t from drinking or drugs. Unless you counted sex as a drug. I could see it.
Reality crashed back down on me the moment I flopped down on my bed.
I rolled over and reached for the picture of Dade and me that I kept next to my bed. He was giving a rare smile, the real kind. Like he was happy to be hanging out with me. There was a copy of the photo in Dade’s room. He’d wanted one too. It was still there, in the place he put it when I first handed it to him. Even though he was gone, they had kept his room the same. I wasn’t sure if they were afraid to clear it out or they weren’t ready to yet. Or it could have been that they’d left it like that for me.
I realized that life was unfair sometimes, and it could be downright cruel. I just never thought that I’d lose him this soon. Some days, I was still in shock and didn’t want to believe it. It wasn’t like I was ready for it. I had no time to prepare. One moment he was here, making my life hard in his own loving way, and the next I was crumbling in Iron’s arms as he told me that my brother was dead.
How was I supposed to move on from here? I didn’t like drowning in sadness but I wasn’t sure how to stop. Even in those moments where I was smiling and talking, the darkness hung over my head like a stupid rain cloud. It was supposed to get easier as time went on, right? But I felt like I was stuck and I didn’t want to be stuck anymore. I had to find a way to accept that my brother was gone and figure out a way to move on without forgetting him.
CHAPTER TWO
Charming
“Charming,” Iron caught me right as I flicked my kickstand down in front of the compound.
It was clear he was looking for me. I rolled my shoulders and dismounted. I needed a damn shower, it had been one hell of a day. Too many calls to count and an ambulance that never seemed to stay empty for long.
Bushing the hair out of my eyes, I gave him a nod telling him to just spit it out.
“Need your help,” he told me and he was already making his way back to the med room. I followed behind him bracing myself for what might be behind the closed door. “No questions asked. Say nothing. This is a favor owed.”
He didn’t sound happy about it. Not even a little. Which was saying something because the Prez usually held it together, or at least appeared like he was.
Inside, half the lights had been cut off. Connor, the Irish cop, was standing in the corner. His body was tight but that was normal. It was that cop pose, you know, his hand not far from where is gun usually rested on his utility belt. But he wasn’t wearing the uniform right now and he didn’t even have a gun visible from what I could tell. It was when I looked into his eyes that I saw it. Something along the lines of rage and uncertainty.
My gaze went to the figure on the table as I stepped closer.
Fuck.
She— yes, a female— was laying there, more blood on her than not. At a quick glance, she had the shit beat out of her. She needed a hospital but I had a feeling that wasn’t an option if Connor had brought her here.
I looked back up to my Prez just to make sure that it was alright with him to proceed. He hesitated, his eyes shooting over to Connor for a split second before landing back on me. Then came the nod.
“I didn’t have any other options,” Connor said and there was almost a sad sigh in his tone. He wasn’t talking to me though.
“I said I was to pay the debt. Not my club. You were to come to me.” Iron’s voice was low and held an unhappy edge.
“I did come to you,” Connor replied with the tiniest hint of cockiness that I’d come to expect from him.
I left them to their little lover’s spat while I washed my hands and gloved up.
“Is that—” I started after I’d brushed the dark hair off of her face.
“Yeah,” Iron said sharply as he cut me off. It was clear I wasn’t to say it out loud.
Right, no questions. Don’t say anything.
I reminded myself to just treat this like it was any other scene I’d come across. Except there was no going to the hospital.
Still, the questions where there in my head.
Because I knew who and what Connor was.
I also knew who the girl— well, woman— was on the table.
And there was something that didn’t add up, not even a little.
For a brief second, I wondered if he’d done this to her. With a shake of my head, I pushed it away. Connor was a cop, yes. He was part of the Irish mob, yes. He was a killer, no doubt. And I knew he used his position in the department to fix things sometimes. But I didn’t think he was an abuser. Even if she wasn’t who she was. Even if she was just some random woman on the street. No, he wouldn’t raise a hand to an innocent. We wouldn’t work with him or the Irish if we even sensed that they were the types.
I reminded myself again that I wasn’t supposed to ask questions. So I didn’t, not even in my head. That wouldn’t lead anywhere good and I’d probably never know the reasons behind all of this.
My mind switched into work mode. She was in and out as I cleaned her up and looked her over. She’d taken one hell of a beating. Her face was bruised but from what I could tell, nothing was broken.
Iron and Connor stood on opposite sides of the table, both keeping their distance and letting me work. Prez was pissed. Connor was something I couldn’t interpret but it was thick in the air, almost distracting me.
She let out a painful moan as I ran my fingers over her ribs. I lifted her shirt to find a splattering of purple bruises all over. As delicately as I c
ould manage, I felt around. I breathed a silent sigh of relief when I didn’t feel anything indicating that they had been broken.
There was a cut on her cheekbone. It almost followed the high curve perfectly. The edges were jagged and I couldn’t tell if it had been made on accident or on purpose. If it was intentionally put there, it wasn’t done with a knife or blade. Maybe something more like a broken shard of glass or a jagged piece of metal.
“This needs stitches,” I said to no one in particular and no one said anything to it.
She seemed to be out at the moment. Her breathing was even which was a good sign. Though I did worry that she’d wake up once I started.
I cleaned out the wound, inspecting it thoroughly to make sure there wasn’t any dirt or debris trapped in there. With the light low, it was a little hard to see but I didn’t dare ask if I could turn the rest of them on.
I cleared my throat.
“Can someone hold her head still for me, please,” I said softly, not taking my eyes off of her.
Connor silently stepped forward and his big hands went to the sides of her head, holding it as though it was a fragile vase that might crack under his grip.
“Make sure she doesn’t jerk while I’m working,” I said, then bent over her to work.
She moaned and tried to jerk a few times but she didn’t regain consciousness. Seven little lines on her face held the wound together so it could heal. It would scar but I didn’t doubt that her daddy could get the best plastic surgeons around to fix her up. Maybe by the end, it would look nothing more than a light blemish that could easily be covered with makeup.
I hadn’t really thought this through, mostly because I was trying so hard to not think about it.
Fuck!
I didn’t want to have any part of this. No wonder Prez was pissed. If this came back on me or the club, we’d be dead men. And that was the best case scenario believe it or not. Hell could rain down from this. The ground could get rattled and the peace we’d worked so hard to keep in place could get ripped to shreds. I would even go as far as to say that war could start over this. My head went up, my eyes going from Connor to Iron, and then back down to the woman on the table.
My hands were shaking but I clenched my fists to hide it.
“You done?” Iron asked me but his eyes were on Connor. This was clearly his way of trying to get them out of here as soon as fucking possible. I’d stand behind him on that for sure.
“Yeah,” I said, the word nearly stuttering out of my mouth.
I jerked out of my thoughts and went to the cabinet along the wall. I pulled out a few pill containers and handed them to Connor.
“You need to—”
“Keep an eye on her. Watch for a concussion and blood around the bruising on her abdomen. Got it,” Connor said cutting me off. Yeah, wouldn’t doubt he’d dealt with his fair share of situations like this.
“Here,” I handed him the medicine. “Twice a day. Antibiotics for infection. Get her to drink lots of fluids. Hopefully, she’ll be fine but if she gets a fever—”
“I know what to look for,” he said, cutting me off again.
“Right,” I said shortly. “Well, then there’s nothing else, I suppose.”
Connor’s eyes met mine and I could tell he wasn’t trying to be an asshole. I gave him an understanding chin jerk.
I reminded myself to play nice. This situation was fucked enough already.
“I appreciate this,” Connor said in a stiff voice as he looked Iron in the eyes. “Shite’s a mess but I’ll make sure it doesn’t come back on ye and yers.”
“Better not,” Iron said but I could tell he was going to keep an eye on the situation himself. “Suggest you figure it out and get her back where she belongs.”
“That be my plan,” Connor said and he was moving to lift her up in his arms. There was something about the way that he handled her that made me think that she was in good hands. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her, but it wasn’t only because of who her dad was.
The door closed behind them. I shook my head and started to clean up all the bloody wipes and gauze from the table.
“Not a word of this. We’re going to act like it never fuckin’ happened because that’s what I wish.”
“Got it,” I said with a nod. “Is this because of what he did for Dade?”
“Yeah,” Iron grunted.
I’d known that Connor helped keep the whole real reason how Dade died a secret. He’d gone as far as to cover up how Dade had actually died. I knew Iron owed him for that. It looked like that debt was now paid.
“Thanks, brother,” Iron said with a clap on my back, then he was gone too.
“Fucking hell,” I whispered as I wiped everything down.
I just wanted to get as far away from this room as fast as possible.
I showered, dressed, and headed down to the kitchen in hopes that there was some food left.
“Beer?” Blade grunted at me as I walked by his open door.
“Fuck yes,” I said sounding like I’d had the worst day in the world. “Let me eat first.”
“Long day?”
“Yeah,” I said not elaborating on how bad it was.
He followed me down to the kitchen.
Abigail was sitting at one of the tables in the back, a plate of food in front of her. She didn’t even turn around as we walked in and it was clear that all her focus was on what was going on beside her. I caught sight of the small smile on her face as she talked and it should have been enough to make me relax. I would have given anything to see her happy. It’d been a long time since I’d truly seen the carefree, loving Abigail that I was used to.
I shook my head and told myself I wasn’t going to think about the reason why. It wouldn’t do any good. Even if I had all the answers in front of me it didn’t change the fact that I felt helpless because there wasn’t a single thing I could think of to change anything.
There were a handful of brothers scattered around at different tables. Each of them seemed to be caught up in their own conversations. Colby was sitting next to Abigail and I couldn’t help but toss an unhappy glare at his back.
I filled up my plate, half-aware of what I was putting on it.
I plopped my ass in a chair where I could keep an eye on them. I didn’t do it on purpose, it just happened to be the closest space next to the door that wasn’t near anyone else. I wasn’t feeling all that social and I didn’t want to come off like an asshole.
Blade dropped down beside me with a roll hanging out of his mouth. With a grunt, he tore it away from his mouth and his jaw worked hard as he chewed.
“Not one word,” I warned him because I could see it in his eyes. He was in a mood and that mood was to poke me until I got pissed. Normally, I didn’t mind it so much because I knew he wasn’t truly trying to be mean. But I felt like a hair trigger away from exploding.
Abigail’s face was turned in the direction of Colby. There was a blush covering her cheeks as she listened to him talk. He smiled at her as he talked and she did a few times too.
Food.
I forced myself to look down at my plate. Green beans. Pork chops. A baked potato with cheese. I wondered if there was any sour cream but I didn’t want to get up to look. Maybe I should have focused on the sour cream right now.
My eyes snapped up at the sound of Abigail’s laughter.
Motherfucking Colby. With his yes ma’ams and his lopsided smile and his…
“Stupid Alabama accent,” I mumbled before I caught myself. Shit! There was no way Blade hadn’t heard me.
“Georgia,” Blade grunted.
“What?”
“Colby’s from Georgia. So his accent would be—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I said as I lightly shoved his arm.
I felt like I should have known that. It didn’t matter right now. I didn’t really hate the brother, I was just grumpy. Colby was one of the newer members. He kept to himself mostly and seemed to get along with all the w
omen. He was respectful and a little quiet. Kind of like a dude version of Abigail, I guess.
“I’m going over there,” I said and started to get to my feet.
Suddenly, my chair hit the back of my knees and I was on my ass again.
“No, you’re not. Sit down. Eat your damn food. And leave it the hell alone until you man up enough to grab your balls,” Blade said as he moved his leg back under the table.
I didn’t talk about it. I did my best to ignore it most of the time. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to let those thoughts come forth right now. I convinced myself that Blade didn’t know any of it because he wasn’t in my head. I also knew that Blade saw too much sometimes.
But the thing about it was, Blade wouldn’t say anything. Not really. Even his statement just now wasn’t all that bad, being vague enough to where I could continue to ignore and deny shit.
“Potato was good,” he said. “You should get some sour cream. Think there’s some left in the fridge.”
I shot him a look and resisted the urge to tell him to get out of my head. But instead of getting grumpy, I sent him a smile and made a show of getting some damn sour cream like I’d wanted.
Colby left by the time I was halfway done with my meal, shooting me a genuine smile and a nod of his head. I couldn’t hate the guy, I had no real reason or right to. So even though I was in a foul mood, I smiled back as best as I could.
“Hi,” Abigail said as she finally noticed me because she walked by the table where I was at.
“Hey, Abigail,” I said with a huge smile. “Thank you for dinner, you know I love pork chops. These are perfect.”
She blushed and ducked her head a little.
“I know. I made them for you.”
My chest might have puffed up a little at her statement. Blade snorted but I didn’t think Abigail noticed.
“Well, have a good night.” The words all seemed to rush out of her at once and then she was quickly making her way to the other side of the kitchen.
