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Despite all the shit with my dear old dad, I have good memories. Just me and my mom. I could have redecorated, but Mom had a very classical style, and I like it the way it is.
Merch and Shelley are waiting for us on my porch, the two suitcases beside them. I unlock the place, showing Merch through to Mom’s old room while Shelley pats Naomi on the back, speaking to her softly.
Hey, from memory, Shelley got kicked out by her family too. She’s probably the best person for Naomi to speak with. Merch rolls the two suitcases in and claps me on the back with a smirk.
“Enjoy your newroomiesituation.”
Flipping him off, I lead the way back to the living area, where Shelley and Naomi are glancing around. Merch walks up to his wife, dropping his arm around her shoulders as he steers her out of the house. The door closes behind them, and it’s Naomi and me.
“Through here, Peaches.”
She follows silently, her eyes darting around as I lead her back to my mom’s old room. It’s been empty since Mom left, but it’s still made up because it’s where she stays when she visits twice a year.
Her eyes rest on the two suitcases, and she blinks rapidly like she’s trying not to cry. Fuck. She cried back at her place when she was packing up the suitcases. Hasn’t she cried enough? Someone as sweet as Peaches shouldn’t cry. It seems so wrong.
“Thanks,” she whispers, her voice wobbling, though her tears thankfully stay in her eyes.
“You get settled in. I’ll get you some towels.”
She nods, her hand resting on top of one of the suitcases. I think Naomi might be in shock. It’s been an eventful evening.
Leaving her to unpack, I walk through to the bathroom, snagging some fresh towels and bedding from the linen closet and taking them through to her bedroom. She’s slowly shaking out clothes, either putting them away or dropping them into a pile. She’s probably going to need to do some laundry. It’s been dry recently. There was more dust than grass in that yard.
Walking back to the living area, I snag a beer from the fridge and drop onto the couch, flicking on an NBA game. She’ll come searching for the laundry room at some point, and I can point her in the right direction to the back of the house.
Digging my phone out of my pocket, I pull up Aric’s number. I need to give him a heads-up about the situation. Technically, Naomi works for the club – and she’s looking after Aric’s kids, so he has skin in the game – and Joey has been a groupie for years. It’s all bound to come to a head, and it will be messy when it does. Poor Peaches.
VIPER: Joey kicked Naomi out of her place. Changed the locks. I’ve brought her to mine.
ARIC: Hopefully it fucking comes to nothing. Tell Naomi we can pay her more if she needs it for rent.
Naomi doesn’t need more money for rent. I’m not charging her any. I text Aric back a thumbs up because I get what he’s hinting at. He’s not going to risk alienating groupies for a woman who has worked for the club for five days, even if she does change his kids’ diapers.
At least if Peaches is in the bedroom across the hall, I can keep an eye on her. It will save me time each day that I don’t have to track through the South Side to get her and drop her off. We can go straight to and from the clubhouse from here. It will cut twenty minutes off each trip. Plus, no one will take advantage if she’s living with me.
Chapter 6
NAOMI
My phone alarm chimes and I open my eyes, blinking at the ceiling. The cornices look different, and the bed is under the window. Oh, right. My psycho sister kicked me out of my house.
Yawning, I stretch and crawl out of bed, tugging on sweats under the T-shirt I’m sleeping in. I had cute satin pajamas, but they didn’t make it out of the house. I wonder which groupie is going to be wearing them. Somehow I doubt it’s Joey – they aren’t her usual style.
I don’t encounter Viper on my way to the bathroom, ducking in and jumping in the shower. His house is a little older – like Mama’s was – so it feels comfortable, though everything is perfectly clean and functional.
Feeling almost human again after a shower, I dress for work, pulling my hair back into a ponytail and leaving the sanctuary of the bathroom.
Putting my things into the bedroom, I walk into the living area and through the archway into the small kitchen. Viper looks over from the sink, eating a slice of toast smeared with honey.
“Morning, Peaches,” he grunts.
“Morning. Uh, the bathroom is free.”
He nods slowly, finishing his toast, dusting the crumbs from his hands into the sink, and turning, crossing his arms over his chest as he props his hip against the side of the sink.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Okay. Thank you for the place to stay.”
