This whole bossy nurse routine isn’t helping matters. Carefully, I slide past and then into the tub. Angie washes my hair first, then my body. My cock doesn’t get the memo to settle down and nothing I can think of is helping either. She lets me rest for a few moments before she’s back in one of my shirts that hangs down to her knees. I want to wrap my hand around my dick like a fucking teenager. Her long, tan legs are exposed, and more dirty thoughts sprout instantly with the view. Memories of the star tattoos across her hips flash in my mind. “Angie, I realize that we have to work out everything you said earlier, but I can’t think past your pussy this very second.”
“What’s your full name?” she asks, not acknowledging the raging boner for her.
“Colton Worden.”
“Nice to meet you, Colt. Angela Sarrico. Never call me Angela, it’s Angie.” She hands me a towel and I get up to wrap it around my waist. With the other towel in her hand, she dries my back then hands it to me. “My parents called me Angela, and we decided to end any ties after they called my baby names. I have a messed-up family life. My parents were the type to act hopelessly in love at parties then fuck their lovers right after. They had a messy divorce and never gave a shit about me. My last phone conversation was the end of years wishing things would change.”
Her voice has a hint of sadness. I would guess it has more to do with not having a family over actually losing her parents. I can understand it, some family by blood isn’t your family at all. It can also be the truth the other way around. “Are you Hispanic?” I ask while I dry my chest and hair. Her skin is a beautiful, flawless olive color.
She eyes me from over her shoulder on the way to my bed. “No. Italian and raised Catholic. By the way you say momma, your parents, I’m going to guess, Christian?” She pulls the covers over her lap and pulls my side down. “Jump in, we need sleep and there’s only one bed in this place, and I’ll be damned if I take your couch.”
“That would be right.” I settle into the bed. “My mom has never missed church since I was little. Dad is a good man but doesn’t go often.”
“There are two types of intimacy—real and lust. When it’s real, it’s not so hot. Goodnight, Colt. For the record, we all need friends and someone we can trust.” She flips the light off to the lamp and pulls the blankets the rest of the way up.
“Night, Miss Angela Sarrico. Thank you for your help.” Angie may be a lot of things. The few interactions we’ve had, I like what I see. Even our stories could be mirrored and chock-full of bad luck. We both avoid real intimacy and the betrayal that usually follows it. I think we could be friends, and for the both of us, it’s what is best while I navigate how to detonate her bomb from earlier.
I’m shocked she’s lying here in my bed and helping me out when I was a dick to her on her worst day. I finally fucking get why she was so pissed earlier. She didn’t want to fuck. Angie needed a friend and for me not to treat her like a job. She’s reminded me of what a friend does, and I owe her. I’ll find a way to pay her back for what she has done. One thing is for sure, Angie has me second-guessing my choices again and thinking about the man I am, or who I want to be. It doesn’t take long for the pain pills to pull me under while I think about her and where we’ve been.
12
Cowboy
Throughout the night, she took care of me. Not what I was expecting at all. Angie woke me up by running a soft touch over my skin. She made sure I had my pain meds on time. She would prop up my arm with a pillow so my shoulder wouldn’t ache, and I was comfortable. When I was wrestling with the sheets and my back ached, Angie rubbed the muscles until I calmed down. Never has a woman taken care of me like this. It would have been much worse if I didn’t have her here.
Now, her legs are tangled with mine. The soft silky skin of her thigh runs across mine, and her face is up against my arm, using it like a body pillow. Her arms are wrapped around mine, and my hand rests between her thighs, next to her heat. Fuck . . .
I don’t ever do sleepovers, but this is extenuating circumstances. She must be half asleep too because she rasps, “You okay, Colt?”
No, I’m far from it. My head is spinning, and I need my brothers to talk this through. But I don’t want to tell any of them what’s going on. I’m alone in a sinking ship. My destination feels an awful lot like a one-way ticket to an unplanned location. “I’m good, Ange. I just need to use the bathroom.” I need to get the fuck out of this bed before my dick manipulates my thinking any more than it has.
“Okay.” She rolls out and ambles around to my side. In my dresser, she finds a pair of boxers and tosses them to the bed. “You need to stretch out this morning. Your muscles are going to be hella sore today. I’ll go make us coffee.”
After I use the bathroom, she’s on her phone and looks up for a second. I want to laugh because Angie went to bed without washing her face and her hair is a ratty mess. Makeup is smeared around her eyes and she looks like she had a wild night then passed out drunk. Her wild night is just sleep deprivation and not any kind of fun. Not at all like the night we shared drinking and fucking. Intimacy.
“Okay, Romeo, quit giving me those looks.” My lip lifts because she is a cute, sassy mess. “My intel tells me that Blade is on his way over this morning to harass you. Jazzy is on her way to bring me my suitcase. No pressure, but I do need my clothes and stuff. Let me know what you need done today and I’ll help.” She taps my shoulder on her way past and shuts the bathroom door. Through her busyness, she yells, “I assume you need to call your mom and go see her? Actually, call your mom and tell her you need to see her before she leaves. She’ll love that. Then we can meet up with them for breakfast or lunch.”
Angie flushes the toilet and washes her hands. The water runs and she comes back out with her makeup off and her hair brushed out. She’s beautiful. “Hello?”
“Yeah, I’ll give her a call.” While I’m on the phone with my parents, Jazz and Spider come in with Angie’s big ass suitcase. My throat feels tight. It’s my own nightmare to be tied down to a woman. The handcuffs feel like they’re tightly snapped on.
“Careful,” Spider huffs. “You know this is temporary. Why do you look like you’re about ready to pass out?”
“It’s a lot of shit at one time.”
“Yeah, well, you can always call your mommy and go home, so don’t be a dick to Angie,” Spider snaps.
“Did I piss you off?” I grunt.
“Don’t treat her like shit. She has no one and hit rock bottom. Her being here is a favor to you. So, wipe that prissy look of desperation off your face and man up.”
“Ah, so you know about the baby then?”
“I know everything, fucker. Angie belongs to me because she belongs to Jazz. Until she’s settled, I have her back.”
I don’t think Spider knows everything because he would beat my ass in this moment. But I let it slide. He should look out for her and I respect him for it. “I won’t hurt her.”
“Good. She doesn’t need to be fucking around right now.”
That’s the moment when Jazzy and Angie fall silent. Angie looks between the two of us. “Why is that, Spider?”
“You know why. One word, Ange—baby. The kid doesn’t need random dicks in its space.”
“Random dicks?” Jazzy goads.
“Oh,” Angie laughs. “You’re protective of the baby. That’s so sweet. And offensive. I’m not an idiot, Spider. Of course, there will be no random dicks for a while. I’m very aware of the situation. I’m going to be a mom, alone.” Spider glares at me, and Angie points a finger at him. “No. Not your business, Spider, but thank you.” She takes her suitcase down to the room and slams the door shut.
“Ya’ll pissed off a pregnant lady. That’s bad. You two need to talk about your man stuff when she’s not around, okay? She’s going through enough, and she doesn’t need more.” Jazzy defends her friend, and I make a note to find out what else I’m missing that they aren’t sharing. “Cowboy, I’m leaving my car here
for her to drive around. She’s going to be a good hour before she’s ready to come out. And trust me, don’t rush her.”
“Get dressed. Blade is coming to talk to you too,” Spider reminds me like the spiteful shit he is. “I’m glad you’re okay. I already filed your insurance claim for your truck. You should get a check in the mail in about a month for the payoff. I would start looking for a new insurance company now. Snake is coming up from the Sacramento MC to drop off Angie’s belongings. She’s moving here.” Snake is Vegas’s brother, and her dad is the Prez of the Sacramento Chapter. It doesn’t surprise me he’s coming, but it also annoys me. The feeling stirs up a possessive need I can’t explain or have time to figure out what the fuck is going on.
Regardless of the ass chewing, Spider is the big brother of the group. He does what needs to be done. “Thanks, Spider. I appreciate your help and being a big dick.”
“Better than a stupid dick. See you at the clubhouse, and call if you need anything.” He and Jazz leave me the keys to her sports car. I do have some great friends. I dress and call Blade before he gets here. It’s about time I come clean with all of this shit, and I would rather do it alone. He agrees to meet me later. Now, I have to call my parents and convince them to go home.
13
Angie
I wanted to cry.
I never ever cry. I grew up in the coldest household and survived Catholic school. Those nuns are as cold as they can get and not to mention ruthless. It’s the baby, I know it. My hormones are raging and as the days go by, it gets worse. If I have to face off with his parents and pretend that I have the world on a platter, I need to get these emotions in check or I’ll cry in front of his mom. Last night, I could barely sleep. It felt like I had it all.
I wish I was the girl with a boyfriend. One I could tell I was expecting his baby and he would ask me to move in. Then we would find a perfect house and pick out baby stuff together. Fight over the name and watch my stomach grow. Deep down inside, I wish I could have what the ladies have here. My life has never been a fairytale and I don’t expect it to start now.
I’ve lived through my parents cheating and then fighting through a divorce. Holidays alone because it didn’t matter which house I was at; it was a big party where their friends came over. Or they worked. The holidays were never a family event. Half the time, I was either away at school or camp. I’ve been alone since I was born.
Last night, I gave myself the false sense of security, to be loved and have a future with a man. My heart doesn’t exist, and I can’t afford to grow one for Colt. He doesn’t love either for his own reasons. After a good cry and I talk myself out of these feelings, I get ready.
I find my flannel, a t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers in my bag. My hair is dried, and I use my flat iron to give myself loose waves, then natural makeup. Before I walk out, I text a few clients I had booked before I agreed to stay here and help Colt. Of course, they understand when I say my boyfriend was in a car accident. The lie singes my fingers when I type it out, but I need them to re-schedule.
When I come out of the room, I’m surprised to find Colt’s mom and dad in the living room. “Morning.” His dad peers around me to the unmade bed and my suitcase. Hurriedly, I shut the door before his mom can see, and he turns his head like a gentleman. I like this man. He has a gentle way of saying things with the least amount of effort. He knows what’s going on and makes it a point to mind his own business.
“Good morning,” his mom responds and gives me a hug. “Are you feeling up to go get some breakfast this morning?”
“Colton was just suggesting I should take you two out, instead of staying in,” his dad adds.
“Oh, that sounds good, yes. What do you two like to eat? Something with a little more hometown feel?” I ask.
His dad smiles. “What do you want, lovey?” His mom beams back. “I guess she knows best. Where do you two want to go?”
“I know a diner that makes fresh biscuits and I bet Colt and John could do well with steak and eggs.”
“Agreed, I’ll let you lead the way,” she adds.
“She will not,” his dad snaps, “She’ll let me drive her. Darlin’, if you can tell me where we are headin’, I’ll take you ladies to breakfast.”
Oh my swoon. His accent and sweet demeanor could give me a toothache. For an older man, Colt’s dad is trim and his graying hair just adds to his softness and hotness. His mother is a tiny woman, petite but strong, with long graying hair also. They are a picture out of a Wrangler magazine ad with their boots, button-up shirts, and his dad’s beige cowboy hat. I want more than anything to go see this place where Colt grew up. I bet there’s a river or creek and horses.
“Are you okay?” Colt asks and slides an arm around me. He places a soft kiss on my forehead.
“Yes-s,” I stutter a bit, pulling back my heart that just leaped from my chest. “You two are what I assume you would say is a breath of fresh air.”
They thankfully don’t act as if they read too far into my statement. In the parking lot, his dad opens up the back door behind the driver’s seat and shuts the door for his mom. Colt opens the door for me and I’m shocked. He whispers, “My dad would kick my ass, scoot in.” He taps my ass, and I don’t mention I’ll cut off his hand because I like it. No, I love it and I know I’m up shit creek with no paddle.
Cowboy
After breakfast, my dad mentioned to Mom that they should be heading home. She protested but gave in. They have a whole ranch to run and Levi, my brother, was doing it alone. Now that she can see I’m okay, she did relent. I’m no fool to believe she won’t be extra clingy for a bit, but that’s okay. She is going home.
Angie is driving us over to the clubhouse and she’s quiet. I can’t quite get a read on why, but I figure she has some thinking to do, as do I. Before my dad got in his truck, he told me an old line from Richard Rowland, “Learn this well, the last ride is never the last ride. And the end is not the end.” My grandpa would always quote those words. How this pertains to me, I’m still putting together.
I cringe the whole ride. Angie is a horrible driver and I’m taking the keys away from her. I can drive better with one hand than she can with two, I’m sure of it. I open the door for us to the clubhouse and my gaze is fused to her ass. The room grows silent when I walk in, and I can’t tell if it’s because of the dead man walkin’ or the hot woman in front of me, maybe both.
It’s not packed with extra girls, and for that, I’m thankful. How would Angie react? Especially if Topaz, the stripper, was here. The me I know would have not given two fucks who was here. With Angie, I don’t want her to be upset and I’m protecting her feelings? Who the hell am I?
Some mysteries I don’t need the answer to. Tugging her to me, I whisper, “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” Angie holds my arm that is wrapped around her waist and peers up at me. Her look holds so much more than just lust or waiting for my attention, it’s one of concern. “I’ve got to talk with the Prez, get him up to speed. Don’t worry.” She squeezes my arm and relents.
It’s a natural reaction between us, but one that confuses me. I’ve never felt the need to calm another woman’s desire that way. Instead of overanalyzing the changes, I kick up my boots and head into Blade’s office. Inside, I find Blade with his VP, Axl.
“Hey, asshole,” Axl greets. “You made it home in one piece. Glad to see you’re mostly okay. Also, I heard you picked up a girlfriend, so I’m ready for all these details.”
Blade glares at Axl as if he wants to beat in his face. Axl has always been the first, along with Tank, to jump in anyone’s disaster, for the entertainment. “Hey.” Sitting in an open chair to the side of the desk, I notice Axl moved in a chair of his own by Blade. It’s funny, because Axl has no issue with boundaries, in fact, in his head he earned it, I’m sure of it. I thought about what I wanted to tell them. Angie’s words about being honest with her because she knew I was full of shit, it hit home. I’ve been full of shit. I decide to give
them as much honesty that is needed to explain my actions. Also, I haven’t been a part of this MC like a man should be.
I tell them about Bull and Sadie, the past, and how she left for him. “When I went back to see Angus, he wanted us to patch up old problems. I left pissed off that he called me there for that. I know part of him wanted to see me, but it stung. I grabbed some booze and drank alone before I decided it was time to come home. I fell asleep behind the wheel. I should know better, shoulda slept it off and drove in the morning. But here I am.”
“What are your plans, Cowboy?” Blade rests back in his seat, cool and collected. “I understand shit goes wrong. On the other hand, what we all have learned over the years is this. We’re family here. We lean on our brothers. I know you patched over, and that kind of trust takes time. The past will come back to haunt you until you decide to bury it. I have two things I want you to consider. Are you here for the right reasons? Is this MC the one you should be pledged to? As far as I know, you’ve never branded your skin. You haven’t made true efforts to bind your life to ours. And I get it, we changed the game when we met our women. Do you see yourself as Battle Born?”
I want to answer, and I open my mouth to give my Prez my response, but he holds up his hand.
“Hold onto it for now. I’m not pushing you in or out. As far as I’m concerned, I want you here. You need to know down to your soul where you belong. Your old Prez, Angus, has a point. I talked to him and I gave him an update. He’s waiting on your call. If you want to go home to his MC, you should. You can’t ride through life as a nomad on the inside, Cowboy. If you need, you should talk to Cuervo. Lost souls don’t do well, and I want what is best for you. If being a nomad in life and the MC is what you really want, then you need to come to terms with the man you are.”
Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition Page 65
