Chapter Five
Where are you?
Have you had dinner?
Are you ignoring me?
What time are you coming home?
I scroll through the missed text messages from Sabrina and know I’ll catch hell from her the second I walk through the door if I go home, and I’m not looking forward to another tongue lashing.
I spy Kiesha watching me from the doorway of her bedroom.
“Do you need something?” I arch a brow at her.
“Yeah. A new life.” She shoves away from the frame and goes back to her bedroom.
I grab another slice of pizza, knowing I should have left an hour ago, but there’s something about getting under Kiesha’s skin that gives me a thrill. She cracks me up with her constant sass. Guess you could say I definitely have a type. Not that I’d go there. Prodigy and Link would beat my ass, and I would never cheat on Sabrina.
There’s nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting.
Judging by the jock Kiesha is into, I’d never be her type.
I excuse myself to the bathroom, prolonging my visit. I catch a glimpse of Kiesha and her friend Sam in her bedroom on my way out. She’s seated on the floor, back to the bed as Sam brushes color onto her hair. I try not to get caught watching as she bites on the cap of her ink pen, staring at a page in her notebook, deep in thought.
I make my way back to the living room, dreading dealing with Sabrina when I leave.
“Be back here in the morning to drive Kiesha to school. Until I know where this bastard is, I want Zoe and her girls covered,” Prodigy tells me.
I don’t ask what time. Hopefully, she’ll be ready by the time I get here.
“Sure thing.” I take this as my cue to leave. I finish off the last swig of my drink. “Thanks for dinner,” I tell Zoe as I rise from the couch.
“You’re always welcome here.” She shoots me a warm smile as Prodigy gives me a nod.
You know I can see that you’ve read my messages, Jimmy. Why are you ignoring me? Are you mad at me?
Fuck. After one last glance at the house where I think I see Kiesha watching me from her bedroom window, I climb into my truck and text Sabrina back.
Sorry. Been a busy day.
I just miss you and just want to snuggle up in bed once you get here.
Reading her last message, I feel like a total dickhead, but I’ve got to take every chance I get to prove my worth to the club. It won’t always be this way. All I’m asking is for one year of patience.
She’s going to be even more pissed when I tell her that I’m planning to crash at Trenton’s so I can be back at Zoe’s on time to escort Kiesha to school in the morning. If I go home, it means waking up two hours earlier than necessary to make the drive. I can avoid it by sleeping on the other prospect’s couch.
There’s always staying at the clubhouse, but if I do that, then I won’t get any sleep. The guys never miss an opportunity to fuck with me or put me to work. Last time I tried to sleep there, I woke up locked in one of the interrogation rooms in the basement buck naked with a dick drawn on my left cheek in black permanent ink. I had to pay one of the club girls to cover it with makeup for a week. Sabrina still doesn’t know about it. Not looking for a repeat of that experience, or worse.
Can you stop and grab a carton of pralines and cream?
Oh and some caramel sauce?
Not tonight. I’m still working.
Seriously? What is so important that you’re blowing me off again? Are you with someone else?
Of course not. Why would you think that?
Maybe because you care more about that stupid club than your girlfriend. Forget it. I don’t want to see your face right now because if I do, I’ll probably punch it.
You don’t mean that. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I swear.
You better.
She’s still texting, which means she’s not as mad as I thought she’d be.
Thank fuck.
I pull up at Trenton’s, park in his visitor’s space, and lock my shit up.
Thought the trailer I was raised in was a shithole until the first time I crashed here. He lives in one of the most dangerous neighborhoods and the only reason no one fucks with him is due to his ties to the club. His old man was Vice President before he was murdered.
Sabrina thought Trenton sharing that family history with me would turn me off being a prospect. Said it should scare me.
It doesn’t.
I know what I’m signing on for. I’d rather die believing in something instead of standing for nothing and working a dead-end job somewhere. Waking up one day, having lived life with nothing but regrets.
I’m seeing this through until the end of my road.
I shoot off a text to let him know I need his couch for the night.
Hey man, is it cool if I crash at your place tonight?
I doubt he has anyone over. He’s still hung up on Ember, Sabrina’s bestie that is the sister of Prodigy and currently dating Smoke.
Even if I wasn’t prospecting, Sabrina would still be around the club because of Ember. I don’t know why she gives me so much damn grief for it.
Was about to go grab some grub. Want to go shoot some pool?
Yeah, sure. Why not? I’m parked downstairs.
All I was going to do was go to bed, anyway.
I start my truck back up and wait for him to drag his ass down here. After about ten minutes, he climbs in the passenger side. “What were you doing? Curling your hair?” I chuckle.
“Was trimming my pubes for your grandma later. Wouldn’t want her to get a hair hung in her throat when she takes her teeth out.”
“Fuck you.” I shudder. “You’re sick, you know that?”
He grins. “We all have our talents.”
“Where are we going?”
“Bullseye on seventh avenue.”
“Is that the new place they built where the vacant lot used to be by the car dealerships and Dollar General?”
“Yup. They have the best onion chips I’ve ever had and tonight they have two dollar beers.”
“Now I see why you wanted to come here.” I watch the pretty little blonde he’s been eye-fucking for the past ten minutes strut toward us with our beers.
He grins. “Shut up.”
“Hey. No judgment. I’m just glad to see you’re moving on from Ember because we both know that’s never going to happen.”
“Don’t.” he shuts the conversation down fast.
Can’t blame him with the whole bet thing he had with Smoke. I don’t understand how Ember forgave either of them for that shit, but she did.
The cute server places our beers on the table, flashing her dazzling smile at Trenton before spinning around to take another order from a nearby table.
All the girl’s working here are dressed in black booty hugging shorts and white tees with a bullseye on them.
I get another text from Sabrina while we wait for our onion chips.
Are you really not coming home tonight?
As much as I wish I could, I’ve gotta stick close to the club this week.
Are you saying you won’t be home at all this week?
I don’t know. Depends on how long this job lasts.
Seriously?!?!
I don’t know what she expects. This comes with the territory. What will she do when I’m a patched member and have to go on a run that she can’t know shit about?
I’m trying my damnedest, Brina. I swear.
How many times have we had this same conversation? You’re always making me promises you can’t seem to keep.
Despite my frustration with her constant nagging, guilt pulls at my heart. Sabrina has every right to be pissed. She’s not wrong. I’ve neglected her for the club. More than I ever thought I would.
I’d rather we continue this conversation in person. I’ll take you to dinner my next night off.
Don’t make any promises, Jimmy. You’ll just end up ditching me like always.
Her doubt cuts and I feel even lousier than I already was.
I don’t know what more explanation she wants. We’ve talked about how important the club is to me. No matter what I do or say, she only gets angrier with me.
I won’t.
We’ll see…
Her short response doesn’t bode well for our future conversation, but at least I’ve bought myself some time.
Being torn between my love for the club and my love of Sabrina is tearing us apart, and I’m not sure how to stop this collision course.
I plant my phone on the table and drown my sorrows in my beer and onion chips while Trenton chats up that pretty blonde by the bar. At least one of us is having some luck tonight.
“Hey, man. I’m going to wait around and catch a ride with Leslie.” He hands me his door key. “Don’t wait up.” He slaps me on the back. “Wait. What crawled up your ass?”
“Shit with Sabrina.” I top off my beer. “Trying to keep her and prospect isn’t working out so hot.”
“It won’t be this tough forever. Hang in there. And buy her some flowers.” He winks.
“Flowers.” I snort. “This grovel requires more than some colorful petals and candy.”
“Trust me. She’ll appreciate the effort. I know what I’m talking about.”
“Yeah. Guess that’s why Ember’s with Smoke.” I wince as soon as I say the words.
“Ouch. Ice cold, man.”
“I didn’t mean it.” I’m pissed at myself and shouldn’t take it out on the guy letting me crash at his pad. Bringing up Ember is a low blow I’m not proud of.
“You need to let off some steam or get shitfaced until you forget all your worries.” He holds up a finger for me to give him a minute. He stalks back to the bar and comes back with some shots.
“What about the blonde?”
“Bros before hoes. Us probies gotta stick together.”
It’s different for him. He’s a legacy. Earning his cut isn’t the same as it is for me. I don’t hold it against him. We need every leg up we can get. Both of us.
The potent liquid burns a trail down my throat, warming my insides as it ignites in my stomach. Repeating the act until we’re four rounds in the effects takes hold of me. Numbing the frustrating thoughts about Sabrina. Right now, she seems like someone else’s problem. The patrons around us blur together as I attempt to blink away the fuzz of the hazy lights.
“What’d I tell ya?” Trenton jabs a finger at my chest. “All you needed was right here.” He passes me another shot. “To freedom and pretty little blondes.” He throws an arm around the girl from earlier.
“Yeah.” I toss it back, slipping further into mindless oblivion, ignoring the way my stomach churns.
“All right. I think you boys have had enough.” She slips out from his embrace.
“Whatta ya mean?” He slurs his words, his eyes completely glossed over.
“Party time is over.”
“We can continue it back at my place.” He tries to spin her around and knocks her into the table, sending our discarded glasses to the floor.
“You two. Pay your tab and get out,” the bouncer tells us as Trenton continues to dance around the girl he was hoping to hookup with.
“Don’t be a cockblocker, buddy.”
“That’s my girlfriend, you stupid fuck.” He swings on Trenton, clocking him in the jaw, and all hell breaks loose.
Trenton stumbles back, but the punch doesn’t take him down. Quickly, he recovers his balance, swinging a haymaker of his own, missing his mark and hitting nothing but air.
Knowing better but too drunk to care, I throw myself into the fray. Fueled by liquor, I go for the bouncer, unleashing my own brand of ass whooping. I manage to deck him square in the jaw. “Fuck around and find out,” I holler, grabbing a beer bottle off a table and smashing it over the short but stout man’s head.
“Come get some.” Trenton punches a random dude who tries to get between us.
His pretty little girlfriend screams while the bartender comes out from behind the bar wielding a baseball bat. I grab Trenton and we stumble out of the bar as they chase after us, hurling insults.
We make it to my truck, erupting in laughter as Trenton rubs his jaw.
Fuck. I needed this.
“We need steak and eggs.” He slaps his palm against the dashboard.
“Turn that shit off,” Trenton yells.
I roll to my side, falling off his shitty couch, knocking my shoulder on the corner of his coffee table. “Ow. Fuck.” I pat my pants, looking for my phone to turn my alarm off.
I’m supposed to drive Kiesha to school today. All I want is to crawl back onto the couch and sleep for ten years. I flex my hands, catching sight of my busted knuckles. I nearly forgot about our bar fight, but the way my head throbs at the temples is the only reminder I need. I hope Trenton has coffee and clean towels. I’ve got a change of clothes in my truck.
My fingers fumble with the button on my jeans. The pull to go back to bed is growing stronger by the second, but I have a job to do. I slip on a fresh t-shirt and stare at my reflection in the mirror as I brush my teeth.
Lines of exhaustion are etched around my bloodshot eyes, and the bruises and scrapes across my raw knuckles mock me. I could have been home with my woman instead of getting into a barroom brawl. As shitty as I feel, it was fun. Made me feel alive.
Trenton passes by the bathroom on his way to the kitchen for the coffee I brewed. “Stop staring at yourself. Nothing you do is going to help your face.” He laughs.
I find him at the breakfast bar hugging a mug of coffee as black as asphalt.
The scent turns my stomach, but I force myself to take a few sips of the cup he poured me.
He lays his heads on the counter, slinging an arm across his eyes to block out the sunshine pouring through the window. “What the fuck did we do last night? My jaw hurts like a motherfucker.”
“You got your ass kicked, that’s what.”
“Damn. Did I at least get that blonde’s phone number?”