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I snatch up my prospect cut from the floor and locate my T-shirt before closing the door on my way out. My head’s still thumping as I make for the stairs.
“Prez said you’d be needing this,” Marilyn calls out from behind me, rushing out the kitchen and forcing a full plate under my nose. The smell of eggs makes my stomach roll.
Maddy’s mom’s been working here a while now, and I can’t remember how we all didn’t starve before her.
“Thanks, Mar.” I grab the plate off her and take it down the stairs with me, heading through the foyer and into the main bar room. The place looks like a battlefield, bodies stretched out everywhere, some clothed, some not and I manage to find a clear space at the bar. One where I can eat without having to look at Squealer's naked, tattooed ass.
“You wanna coffee with that, Hunny?” Mel appears from the other side of the bar, and makes a start at clearing up some of the empty bottles.
“Best had,” I lift my chin at her, stabbing some bacon with my fork and staring at it before I eat it.
“You flirtin’ with that or eatin’ it?” A heavy hand slams me hard on my back and when I glance over my shoulder, Tac’s staring at my bacon and wetting his lips.
“All yours,” I drop the fork from my hand and slide the plate to one side.
“Rough night?” Tac smirks at me, wasting no time loading his mouth with eggs. And when Mel places my black coffee on the bar, he helps himself to that too.
“Could say that.” I scrub my face with my palm attempting to clear some of the grogginess from my head. Today’s a big day, I need to be fucking with it.
“I gotta go,” I tell him, checking the time. Tac shrugs his shoulders, and I leave him to fill his face as I head outside for some fresh air.
I make a quick dash up to my cabin for a shower and to change, and then I’m ready to go.
This is the earliest time of day I’ve seen in a long while, and as I pull out of the compound and take the road that leads to Castle Rock, a real weird feeling settles itself in the pit of my stomach. The type of feeling I haven’t felt since I was a kid. One that stirs up your insides, and makes your heart beat a little faster.
I’m fucking nervous.
All the planning that’s gone into this job for Prez, rests solidly on me now. That’s a huge weight to carry.
Jessie and Maddy are the only other people at the club who know about Prez’s secret daughter. The brown-haired, hazel-eyed creature who’s claimed my thoughts since I first saw her photo last month. The girl is my ticket to getting what I’ve wanted since I was ten years old and that Dirty Soul showed up at my foster home. She’s also the most beautiful thing I’ve ever set eyes on.
All Prez wants to know is that his girl is doin’ okay, that the life he chose for her is treating her good. The man she’s grown up believing is her father, is a federal judge, and recently Prez got his suspicions that he’s stirring shit up for the club.
A few months ago, Judge Jackson granted a warrant for the CIA to search our compound, and Maddy struggled to find where that request came from. You better believe that if there’s shit to be found, Jessie’s old lady is the one who’ll find it.
Prez doesn’t trust Judge Jackson, and that’s where I come in. All I need to do is make nice with Ella, check she’s happy and find out what I can about the Judge. Easy enough work for someone who has basic social skills, but for me, this is gonna be a challenge. One made a damn sight worse by the fact I can’t stop wondering how pretty Ella Jackson might look while she’s being fucked… by me.
I walk into the kitchen and find the breakfast table laid out in the usual way. The only difference today being the neat bundle of envelopes propped up against my juice glass.
My father’s head is buried in his paper, same as it is every morning, but today the space beside him is empty and instead of being in her usual position, Mom is flapping around the stove.
“Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.” She plasters on a smile and stretches open her arms, waiting for me to go to her. I shuffle over and let her wrap me up in a hug.
“I can’t believe I’m a Mom to an eighteen-year-old. I might have to start getting Botox,” she jokes. I humor her, pretend that I don’t know she started having Botox when I was fifteen. I’d looked up Dr. Stentil online when I found an appointment card in her bag hoping he was a shrink. God knows she needs one. As it turned out, Dr. Stentil is a specialist in cosmetic treatments who owns a private clinic a few miles out of town.
At least he does a good job. Mom still looks natural, and her lips aren’t like the frankfurters Abby’s mom seems to have acquired over the past couple of years.
“Sit down, darling. I’ve made your favorite… Vincent, the birthday girl is awake,” Mom prompts Dad like he hasn’t noticed I’ve been here all this time, and he just about manages to lift his head up from the current affairs to grumble me a ‘Happy Birthday’.
Nodding back at him, I take my place at the table and begin opening my cards. The first one is from Mom and Dad. It’s pink and pretty, with words that read ‘To a dear Daughter’. The second is from my grandparents, the ones on my mother’s side who actually bother to acknowledge my existence. Enclosed is a cheque for 5,000 dollars, and the instructions to deposit it into my savings account.
My third and final card is from Penelope, our housekeeper. It’s handcrafted, with my name and the number 18 made up out of different sized buttons.
Looking around the kitchen, I wonder where she is this morning. It seems brave of Mom to be attempting pancakes by herself, even if it is my birthday.
“There we go darling,” Mom places the plate on the table mat, and smiles proudly. I look down at the smoked salmon and scrambled egg she’s put in front of me, and don’t have the heart to remind her that I hate salmon.
“Thanks, Mom.” I smile up at her gratefully, digging in and detesting every mouthful I force myself to swallow.
