Page 13 of The First Cut

Ihaven’t seen Driller since last night, when he left me to fend for myself.

I woke up in the kennel with a quilt wrapped around me and thick socks on my feet. As soon as I saw them, I’d burst into tears and cried until I made myself sick. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something nice for me.

Not knowing what else to do, I walked back to the clubhouse.

Creeping past the sleeping bodies to the bathroom, I freshened up as best I could, washing yesterday’s makeup off my face and neck with hand soap and leaving my skin feeling dry but at least clean. Apart from the fading discoloration across my jawbone, my bruises are covered by my sweatshirt, so I don’t have to worry about Driller’s reaction to anyone seeing them. He likes me to keep them covered or have a handy excuse, but I didn’t know I would need my make-up bag so this is as good as it gets.

I finger-comb my hair and, with the hair tie from around my wrist, pull it up into a messy bun. There’s not much I can do about my teeth right now, but I cup my hand under the faucetand rinse my mouth out with some water. Feeling a little better, I walk out of the bathroom. Hopefully, there’s some decaf in the kitchen to help warm me up.

I look at the table where I dumped everything when I came in and find them untouched. I grab my bag and pull it over my shoulder, not wanting one of the club girls to mess with it.

Walking into the kitchen, I find it empty. I glance at the clock above the stove and see it’s still early. I put my bag down and start looking through the cupboards, but don’t find any decaf. I do find some hot chocolate mix, though, so I put the kettle on. While I’m waiting for the water to boil, I put a pot of coffee on for those who’ll wake up soon.

With nothing else to do, I decide to make breakfast. Once the water is boiled, I make my drink first before I gather all the ingredients—sausage meat, eggs, cheese, green chilies, onions, and hash browns—and make enough breakfast burritos to feed a crowd. I wrap them in parchment paper for reheating and eat two while I drink my hot chocolate. Then I leave a Post-it note with instructions explaining how long to heat them for. I’m just washing my mug when I hear people moving around upstairs.

I grab two extra burritos and slide them into my bag, along with an orange and an apple. I have no idea when Driller will feed me again, and something tells me that it won’t be anytime soon with Havoc here. I consider leaving, but I have nowhere else to go. So I head back into the main room and start cleaning up. I might as well do something to keep myself busy.

People start waking around me, but I just continue on with what I’m doing. I step over Razzle, who’s passed out on the floor with her skirt up around her waist, with her bare pussy on display. I grimace and look away. Spotting a plaid shirt on the back of one of the chairs, I grab it and drape it over her.

“Think you’d be used to that by now, prissy.”

I tense at the sound of Snoopy’s voice.

“I’m not bothered,” I say quietly. “I just don’t like seeing another woman in a vulnerable position.”

He grunts before moving close.

I brace myself, waiting for him to touch me—but he doesn’t, thank God. I’m feeling particularly vulnerable myself this morning.

“She wouldn’t do that for you, you know. She’d probably take pictures and post them online.”

I look over my shoulder at the man with the shock of white hair, even though he’s only in his early forties. “And you wouldn’t do anything to stop her. That doesn’t say anything about me, but it does say a heck of a lot about you.” I shake my head before picking up two empty bottles and tossing them in the garbage bag I’m carrying around. “There are breakfast burritos and coffee in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

He hesitates for a moment. “Thanks, Lola.”

I swallow hard as he walks away and go back to what I was doing. Once I’ve finished picking up all the empty bottles and trash, I find a bottle of cleaner and a towel and start wiping everything down.

“What are you doing here?”

I jump when I see Byte standing in front of me. I didn’t even hear him coming.

“I’m cleaning up.”

“That’s not what I meant, Lola. I meant why you’re here when Driller isn’t? You know he doesn’t like you being here without him,” he says, like Driller has to worry about me throwing myself at his brothers. The thought is so ridiculous I almost laugh.

“And where exactly do you expect me to go, Byte? I haven’t seen Driller since yesterday, and Havoc and his crew are in my house.”

“It’s his house. You’re just lucky he lets you and Driller stay there. But honestly, I doubt it’ll be for much longer.”

I throw my hands up in the air. “Fine. His house then. The place where I’ve been staying. The place where my clean underwear and toothpaste are.”

He looks at me then—really looks at me. “If Driller wasn’t with you last night, where were you?”

The hypocrisy of this man makes me want to kick him between the legs.

“Don’t worry, Byte. I slept with the dogs.”

He narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything. “Havoc’s on his way here with his old lady. It’d be best if you weren’t here when they arrived.”