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I sound fucking pathetic.
Get a grip, Mel. He’s hot, mega hot, and those eyes might be dreamy, but get out of fantasy land.
* * *
Gunz
Facing my brothers, I fill in the deets about our special visitor. “The woman’s name is Kit, and she’s the mother of my son.”
The bomb’s dropped.
It takes a second for it to explode and reality to sink in.
Mickey steps forth, and Gypsy grabs his bicep to reel him back. “Your what?”
“You got a kid?” Bulk asks, scratchin’ his bald head.
“Is she free-range pussy?” This comes from Jizz—dick for brains.
Seizing control of the conversation before it gets outta hand, I keep talkin’. “I knocked her up—”
“We ain’t givin’ that lyin’ whore money,” Runner interjects with red-faced hostility as he steps up to the table and tosses the packet of papers back into the middle. They land with an ominous smack and everybody looks to see what I’ll do.
Teeth grinding teeth, my hackles rise, as they always do around him. He screwed a dear friend of mine, Beth, over. She loved him. Wouldn’t give away her virginity like he wanted, so he took club whores to bed, not caring how that would affect her—a chick he claimed to care for. In my book, if you care about someone that way, you don’t mess around. Cheating’s for cowards.
Nostrils flaring, I lift a chin in challenge. “Shut your fuckin’ mouth, Runner, unless you want this night to end with me bashin’ in your ugly mug. She ain’t here for money. She’s here for Adam, my son. He’s in jail. Got himself locked up for doin’ dumb shit.” That’s as much as the young prick deserves to know.
“So, he’s grown?” Big asks from his chair, genuinely interested in the news.
“Yes.”
“And the bitch kept a kid from you.” Runner runs his idiot mouth a second time, inchin’ closer to a mouthful of blood and a visit to the dentist. Nobody calls Kit a bitch.
“Again,” I growl. “It ain’t like that.”
Dallas steps up and slaps Runner in the back of the skull. He scowls and flips Dallas the bird. Findin’ it funny, I chuckle, as does Big. Runner doesn’t care for our amusement at his expense and turns his rude sentiment in our direction. Well, mine. He doesn’t wanna poke the bear. Big’s in no place to handle any form of disrespect. I smile wide at Runner on purpose, to fuel the childish anger he brought upon himself. I’ve never liked the prick. For some reason, Big brought him into the club on account of his father bein’ a member way back when. Seems the biker gene skipped a generation.
Blimp, God love the man, steers things back where they should be. “Then what’s it like, Gunz? Where’s she at now?”
“She’s at my place.” Which he knows, but the others don’t.
As if shit isn’t already weird enough, Viper’s flip switches from chill to aggressive. “With Janie and Dom? What the hell were you thinkin’?”
Bonding with Janie and her boy a dozen and a half times does not make them his. This motherfucker needs to slow his roll. They’re mine to care for. Mine to protect. This young-buck bravado needs a serious reality check. First Runner, now Viper—children, the whole lot of ‘em.
Not havin’ any lip, I put the man in his place. “I was thinkin’, asshole, that it’s my house and I can let anyone I want sleep there.” To further cement my point, I double-tap the Sergeant-at-Arms patch on my chest.
That does fuckall to quell Viper’s outburst. “Not with Janie and Dom there, you can’t.”
Has he even stopped long enough to think maybe I know what I’m doing? That Kit isn’t a threat. That I wouldn’t let her in my home if she was. I get he’s overprotective after what went down, but I’m not the enemy here and neither is Kit. Emotions runnin’ high or not aren’t an excuse to be a punk.
Keepin’ my cool, I arch a brow, when I’d rather roll my eyes at Viper’s misplaced bullshit. “Says who, Viper? You?”
Said brother steps forth like he’s about to start shit.
Kai cuts a hand through the air. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Calm down. Gunz is talkin’. Show him some respect,” he interjects, and everyone shuts their judgmental mouths.
I deliver a chin lift of appreciation.
