Where Souls Spoil (38 page)

Letting out a heavy sigh, I turn away from her to find Trigger and Princess turning and facing the door to the hallway. A half a second later, Princess loops her pinky around Trigger’s. I try to temper my reaction by scratching the back of my neck, but I can’t stop the shocked look that covers my face. What the fuck is wrong with this chick? But Trigger doesn’t let go. His pinky tightens around hers, and he brings his arm closer to his body, which brings Princess closer as well. I didn’t see this shit on the way from Brooklyn, but according to Ian,  the pinky shit is a thing between them. Unfortunately, Grady’s seen it, too. Hearing about it made me laugh because it sounded like they were making shit up, but actually seeing it for myself does something else to me.

I try to shake it off and turn to Nic. With the offering of my hand and a reassuring smile, I wait for her to give in. It takes her a moment longer than I’d like, but finally she reaches out and slips her small, calloused hand into mine. When she does, I tighten my grip and bring her flush against me. With one hand on her lower back and the other gripping her hand in mine, sandwiched between our stomachs, I lean down and lightly smack my forehead against hers. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Pulling back, she rubs her forehead and scowls up at me. “Dick,” she says and offers up nothing else. Using her free hand, she pries the other from my grip and practically stomps off behind Princess toward the front of the house. Her arms are folded over her chest, and she keeps her eyes forward. Princess looks backs at Nic and then to me, then down to Nic again. The smile on her face is blinding, but then it falls and she narrows her eyes at me. I guess she’s still acting pissy about that orgasm I gave her. Women. Normally, chicks can’t wait to let me in their pussy, but Princess is different. She’s definitely not normal, that’s for sure.

“We’re heading out, Brother,” I say to Trigger once we reach the sidewalk. I wrap my hand around Nic’s and try unsuccessfully to hold back the laugh that bubbles at the look on her face. She’s pretty much shooting daggers at Princess and muttering things I don’t understand, but I do catch a few choice words like
cut
,
throat
, and
bitch
. I let go of Nic’s hand and give her ass a pat. “Go ahead and run,” I whisper in her ear. “I like the chase.”

Climbing onto my bike, I start her up and hold my helmet in my hands. I wave Nic over, but she doesn’t budge. Above looking mad, she’s downright fucking angry at me being here. She shakes her head in refusal. I bring my right arm up and point my index finger at her. The defiant act was cute a few minutes ago, but now she’s acting like a fucking child, and it’s wearing on my nerves. It feels like it takes half of a goddamn year for her to get over her shit and walk over to me. Grabbing the helmet, she places it on her head and snaps it in place, then adjusts it. She doesn’t hesitate as she swings a leg over the bike and tucks herself into my back. Taking off, I leave Princess with Trigger and just hope he’s not too fucked up to ride her home safely, but it’s too late to rethink shit now.

Chapter 14

I pull up
to Butch’s house to find all of the lights on inside and the music louder than it should be at this time of night in this neighborhood. Butch didn’t give a shit about a lot of things, but respecting others was something he was always going on about back when I was a prospect. Far as I know, Nic’s got good neighbors, and they don’t deserve to have their eardrums blown out. “Shit,” she mutters from behind me and climbs off the bike. Placing the helmet on the handlebars, she stomps up to the house and flings the door open. I give a good laugh at her stomping now that she’s out of range to hear me. I’m trying to fuck her tonight, not get the cold shoulder.

Voices rise from inside the house, and people pass in front of the living room window. Through the doorway, I can see Nic as she’s shouting at her bitch ass brother. Two teen boys and three girls appear from the corners, all half yelling at each other and at Nic.

“Fuck that,” I say and hop off my bike. Walking slowly from the drive and down the concrete pathway, I try to listen to what’s being said before I let the kids know I’m here. Against the wall that separates the living room and entrance is Nic. Jeremy towers over her and is shouting in her face. She looks like she’s giving as good as she gets, but I can’t hear a word she’s saying. The way he’s crowding her makes me pick up my pace.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? This is my house, not yours!” he screams. “Quit being such a fucking bitch!” Something in me snaps, and I barrel forward right into the house. I run into two bodies that part, each going a different direction, and I slam into Jeremy. My hands find purchase in his shirt and I push him forward. He stumbles and falls on the floor in front of the couch. His dark blue eyes are wide, and his jaw is slack.

“Get up!” I shout. He doesn’t move fast enough, so I lean down and yank him up by the front of his shirt. Up close I can see how bloodshot his eyes are. Paralyzed in fear, his body shakes and his eyes water. The smell of beer is on his breath—my beer. Fucking shithead. I tighten my grip on him then push him off of me and down onto the couch. Pointing a finger at him, I say, “Any body part you move I’m going to break the fuck off.”

I turn back to the teens, who are all huddled around in shock. The three girls make a move for the door. “Stop!” I scream. They freeze in place in the middle of the doorway. I pass Nic and place a hand on her shoulder. “Go to the couch, baby,” I say quietly.

The other two boys stand around and fidget. I decide to deal with them first. Standing in front of them and holding my hand out, I say, “ID’s.” They stare up at me in surprise, but don’t do as they’re told. “Maybe you didn’t hear me, boys. I’m gonna need your ID’s. Now.” Very slowly, they pull out their wallets and hand their ID’s over. Turning to the girls, I do the same thing, but they’re quick to cooperate. “You little assholes drank my beer and disrespected my Old Lady. Is this going to happen again?”

All of their heads shake, and the moment I let them go, they run right out of the house like their asses are on fire. I can’t help to smile as I watch them flee. There are a few perks of being Forsaken, and this is one of them. Dumb little bastards.

I shut the front door and walk back into the living room. Jeremy’s turned toward Nic, and he’s whisper shouting, “Tell him to back off and I’ll clean up the mess. We could get along a lot better if you would just chill out.” Her lips are pursed, and she’s staring straight ahead into nothingness.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” I scream. His eyes dart to mine, and he grumbles something under his breath. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“I said this isn’t your house,” he says back with attitude. I nod and look down at Nic, who’s curling into herself. “And it isn’t hers, either. This is my dad’s house.”

The dig is subtle, but she catches it. The way he emphasizes the point that Butch isn’t Nic’s biological dad makes my jaw tick. Butch is her dad in every way that counts.

“Hey, you wanna be a man? Start fucking acting like one. You do not push around women half your size, for starters. And you ain’t got shit. You’re a fucking kid,” I snap back. “Now shut the fuck up.”

“Is this what you been dealing with?” I ask Nic. She lifts her head and looks up at me with sad eyes, but she won’t give him up.

“Fine,” I tell her and turn back to Jeremy. “I’ll deal with this on my own. You’re already in debt to me, kid. Don’t make your situation worse.”

Jeremy folds his arms over his chest and, despite his size, he looks so much like his sister. They have the same damn pout, but it ain’t fucking cute on him. “Go to your room, and if I hear so much as a peep out of you, I’m going to beat the shit out of you until I get tired.”

Standing from his seat on the couch, he walks up to me with determination in his eyes. “You’re not my dad,” he hisses, “and you can’t tell me shit.”

That’s it.

That’s fucking it.

I nod, then bring my fist back and connect it to his cheek. He stumbles backward, his body bent forward, and he’s holding his jaw. “That was a warning shot. You’re just a little bitch boy whose mouth has outgrown his brains. I ever catch you talking to your sister like that and I’ll be getting word to your old man. I’m sure he’d have a few things to say about your attitude. You want that?”

He rights himself, but doesn’t meet my eyes. His mouth moves a few times before he gets sound to come out and he whispers, “No.”

“Look me in the eyes,” I snap. I’m still feeling pissed as fuck, and I’m in no mood to stand here and play daddy to this damn kid, but we have to get a few things straight. When Jeremy lifts his eyes and steels himself for the punishment he deserves, I think that there might be hope for him after all. He might be short bus slow, but he’s at least responding. I’d hate to have to really fuck him up, since we’re going to be living together.

“Let’s get a few things straight—your ass is lucky that it was my bike you scratched, and you’re damn lucky that I was the one who caught that little scene just now. Don’t forget that your dad’s Forsaken, and that means both you and your sister are family. Any of my brothers catch you talking to your sister—and my Old Lady—like that and they won’t give a fuck who your daddy is.”

“Yes, Sir,” he says and waits until I signal for him to leave. When he does, I look back at Nic. She has her head in her hands with her feet up on the couch and her elbows resting on her knees. Striding to the couch, I sit and look down at her. She’s so fucking small compared to him. The boy’s got to be about six feet tall by now, and every time I see him he’s got another couple pounds of muscle on his frame. She’s pretty much just skin, bones, and tits.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “He really is sorry about scratching your bike. He just had a rough day.”

“That kid isn’t sorry, but he’s about to be if he doesn’t learn to watch his fucking mouth,” I mutter. She lifts her head and pushes her straight blonde hair back from her face. Crawling up on her knees, she pushes herself up against my side.

“Please,” she whispers. “I know he’s a brat, but he’s all I got.” The sincerity in her voice breaks my heart.

“You have me. I told you—you’re my woman,” I say.

“You didn’t have to call me your Old Lady to scare those kids,” she says. “They were plenty scared of you anyway.”

“Come on, Nicole. You’re not stupid. You know that’s not why I did it.”

“Do I?” she asks. Her bottom lip is at a pout, and she looks sad, like really fucking sad. “I don’t feel like that’s where we’re going. I feel like you’re just passing time.”

“We’re moving past that shit that went down. Both of us,” I say. I can’t talk about how I fucked up anymore, so I change the subject. “This happen often?” I ask.

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she leans over and places a kiss on my cheek so fucking softly that it makes me feel almost nervous. Nic isn’t soft and she isn’t gentle. My girl’s hell on wheels with a bottle of Jack and her middle finger up in the air—at least with me she is. But this moment makes me want to give her gentle. I want to show her that not everything has to be loud and abrasive. The quiet is nice, too.

“More lately,” she says quietly. “Butch’s parole was denied. Letter came in the mail this afternoon.”

"Shit," I say. I’ll have to touch base with Jim on that and see if there’s anything we can do. That's not good. We had been hoping that his parole would be granted. The shit we ask our guys to do both on the inside, as well as the outside, is pretty fucked up. Butch went in a few years back for a delivery gone wrong. The guy fucked up, and it wasn't pretty. None of us like to see a brother going down, even if it is his fault. Nic is having a hard enough time with her brother, much less herself, that it would make a world of difference if her father were here. For one, Jeremy wouldn’t be pulling the shit he does. Knowing Butch, he’d lay the kid in the dirt and make him explain in full sentences why what he did was wrong, and he’d do it with his boot to the kid’s throat.

“Yeah, shit,” she says. Looking over at her and giving her an apologetic smile, I decide that I like this. The talking about everyday stuff with her, the bossing her punk brother around with her. Fuck. I just like being around her. Unfortunately, it’s rare that she seems to feel the same about me, and that’s a pretty big problem. I can only do so much to try to make this happen. Now I just need her to step up and do her part. Like making me some food.

“Still, he needs to learn what it means to be a man, and you can’t teach him that,” I say.

“Okay, so pick one up for me the next time you’re at Home Depot,” she says with a sarcastic smile.

“Why? You got the pick of the litter right here,” I say with a grin. Her face falls, and she shakes her head. Pushing herself up off the couch and to her feet, she sticks her hands in her pockets.

“You need to stop saying stuff like that.” Her voice is teetering somewhere between angry and frustrated. Knowing Nic, her mood could easily swing either way. I turn and give her my full attention.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because I’m going to get used to it, and you’re either going to hurt me or you’ll leave,” she says. I’m not going to leave, but it doesn’t seem to matter what I say. She just doesn’t believe me.

She crosses the room, I follow, and spin her around. When she looks up at me, her eyes plead with me to stop talking, but I don’t want to.

“I can’t promise you that this is going to work out, but I can say that I like this.”

“And what’s going to be left of me when it doesn’t work out?” she says. I keep a stone face and cup her face in my hands, then lean down and kiss her on her forehead.

“Go to sleep, baby,” I say. “You’re drunk. Leave the door unlocked, because I’m going to be back soon.” Instead of arguing, for once, she just gives me a small “okay” then pulls away and walks to her bedroom at the end of the hall. She closes the door behind her, and I’m left alone in the living room. It’s sparsely decorated, and the furniture is in disrepair—just like everything else. This house is so fucked—both the actual structure and the people in it, and for some reason I want to fix them both. I’ll start small, with Jeremy, beginning tomorrow.

I leave the house and take the long way back to the house that Trigger and I share. When we left to pick up the girls, I didn’t even think about bringing my bag with me, but maybe this is a good thing. It gives both Nic and I a chance to take a deep breath and think about shit. Her eyes were so laced with concern and confusion, and even fear, that I don’t know what to say to her right now. All I can think about is all that shit with Trigger and Princess. They’re both so fucked up, but in their own ways, and they seem to like one another well enough. Well enough to take on the entire club on his part, and to risk her safety on hers. Seeing that shit firsthand makes me believe that maybe even the most difficult, hard to love soul can be loved by someone. Sappy as it is, it gives me hope.

Pulling up to the house, I’m surprised to find Trigger’s bike in the driveway. Not sure why I don’t expect it, or where I thought they went, but the moment the shiny black finish comes into view, a sinking feeling consumes me. Parking my bike and dismounting, I stride into the house.

“Dude,” a voice says from the living room. “Who do you think he has in there?” I walk through the front door and find myself face to face with half the club. Diesel, Bear, Fish, Wyatt, Dunce, Squat, and Rink sit around the room, some on furniture, and some on the floor, rolling joints and drinking beers. There’s a bong on the coffee table and rolling papers scattered about around it.

“I don’t know, some bitch,” Wyatt says from the couch. I grab a chair and pull it up to the coffee table. Dunce, one of the prospects, reaches into a nearby ice chest and pulls out an ice cold beer and tosses it to me. I catch it in the air and pop the cap off then take a long swig.

“It’s not Chel,” Wyatt says. “Bitch is too smart to fuck anybody in this filthy shithole.”

“Nic?” Diesel asks mischievously. My head swings around, and I see that his face is covered in a shit-eating grin.

“Nah, don’t you remember when Duke pissed on her leg?” Wyatt says. Diesel purses his lips and makes a gesture with his tongue.

“Is that what I tasted while I was eating her pussy?” Diesel says. I fight the desire to shoot up in my chair and bulldoze the bastard right here and now.

“Those jokes? They end here. Nic’s with me, and that means she’s not ass to tap. Got it?” I ask, looking around the room.