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Her face is pale and she looks heartbroken, but I don’t give a flying fuck. Since she still won’t get out of my door, I scroll through my photos on my phone, and find a picture of Justine, spread eagle, naked, giving me that ‘just had sex’ look. I get off my bed and march towards Shannan, shoving the phone in her face.
“This is my woman, something you’ll never be. Look at her, really look at her. Why settle for you when I can have her?”
“But, Hangman, you just fucked me the other night, and tonight, you had Aimee.” Opening the door wider; hopefully, to make my point clearer, I get in her face.
Shoving her back against the wall in the hallway. “Who I fuck or don’t fuck, is none of your business. Consider this you’re final warning, one more time I, or any other brother here, have to speak with you about this sort of fucked-up shit, you’re out. Gone. Got it?”
She nods frantically. “Yes, Hangman, I won’t do it again.” She runs off down the hall, her ass jiggling as she goes. Fuck me, if she didn’t piss me off so goddamned much by opening her mouth, I would have totally had her ass tonight. Instead, I’ll just use my hand. Shannan is a problem, and a problem I don’t want to repeat any time soon.
Chapter Twenty-two
Justine
Finishing out my latestchapter, I smile. Hangman sure gave me some good inspiration for this newest book of mine. I’m writing it loosely based on what he told me about his past, his story definitely makes for a good book.
We talked a lot this past week, but mostly about him, his life, his past, his children. It’s just up to me now to open up and I’m not quite sure how to do that. After hearing about what his daughter went through, I know what I have to tell him won’t be too bad. But not good either. Will he still want me knowing how weak I’ve been?
My phone pings with a message and I see its Carson, as he asked me to call him when we’re alone. “Having dinner with Melissa, will be talking about you, so don’t be surprised if your ears are ringing.”
I laugh at that, he’s this rough and tough biker, yet he’s a total softy, too. I wonder if he’s soft with his children, like he is me.
I text him back that it’s cool, I’m having supper with my dad tonight anyway, something I was going to invite Carson to, but won’t now since he’s got plans. Tomas hasn’t been around much this last week, and I’m wondering what’s going on with him. We used to hang out all the time, sure we were living together, or dating, but still we’ve always been attached at the hip.
I’ve tried texting him but get no replies, and I haven’t seen lights on at his house. I was about to go over there yesterday when Carson showed up, so I didn’t get the chance. But now I’m going over there, and since I don’t meet with my dad for another few hours, I’m getting answers out of Tomas. Especially since I see his car in the driveway.
Grabbing my sweater I head over, not bothering to lock the door behind me. Banging on the front door, Tomas finally opens it. “Damn, Justine, I thought you were the cops or something. Banging like that.”
I raise a brow, “And why exactly would you think it was the cops?”
Tomas laughs, “I watch a lot of cop shows, you know this.”
“Yeah, yeah, smartass. So, what’s going on?” I shove past him and go up the steps into his living room.
“Nothing, just working a lot. Why, is something wrong?” he asks, coming up behind me, looking worried.
“Nothing is wrong, I’m just worried about you, barely seen you this past week and was worried something was going on.” I tell him, taking a seat on his leather couch.
