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I really don’t.
I can’t wait for them to sell this shit and lose their fucking asses, then wage a war with their supplier that will get them all killed in the end. I’m fucking here for it. Ready and willing to grab a bucket of fucking popcorn and watch from the sidelines.
PIPER
Reese picks me up, drives me to work, and then we work all day before she drives me back home. It’s a little routine we’ve established as the days go by. It’s only been a few days since Itch left, but it feels like it’s been weeks.
The car pulls up to the curb, and I give her a smile as I say my thanks and open the door, but she calls out my name. Turning back to her, I grin. “Yeah?”
“I’m coming by later tonight to pick you up. There’s a party at the clubhouse, and you need to relax. The guys should be coming back, too.”
I haven’t heard from Itch since the first night he was gone. He told me he would be home soon, and it’s been almost a week. He’s still not back. I haven’t bothered him, mainly because I’m a big scaredy cat. I’m afraid he’s with her, that it’s where he wants to be, and that he is glad I’m not around.
“I’m not sure I’m wanted there,” I whisper.
Her eyes widen, then she lets out a small laugh. “Why wouldn’t you bewantedthere?”
The way she asks me, the tone in her voice, it’s clear that she thinks I’m welcome in that part of the world, but I have a suspicion that Itch feels otherwise. He’s got that woman, and I am pretty sure that her coming to the salon was very telling. She is part of his life in a way I’m not.
“He’s got Tempt,” I murmur. “I should just stay home.”
Her eyes widen, and her lips part slightly before she clears her throat and shakes her head a couple of times. Then she narrows her gaze on me and purses her lips as if she’s thinking of what to say next, or maybe she’s trying not say what she’s thinking. I’m unsure.
“Bullshit,” she finally snaps. “Bull-fucking-shit. You are his wife. You have more rights to anything down at that place, in that club, than she does. I don’t give a fuck who she thinks she is. And I’m telling you, she’s not pregnant. She’s a lying little bitch. You’re going down there, and you will hold your head up high, because you are his wife and his old lady. She is nothing.”
I love how confident she is, but it’s not reality or the truth. It has nothing to do with me, this world, this life, it’s all in what Itch wants. He’s the man, he’s the member of the club, he’s the one with complete control.
If this is what or who he wants—Tempt, that is—then there is nothing for me to do about it. And I have a feeling she is who he wants. She’s more his speed, his style, and it’s clear she has no qualms about trying to stake her claim on him.
“It’s not my place. If he wants me there, he’ll ask me,” I murmur as I push the car door open and unfold from the seat.
“Piper,” Reese calls out.
Turning around, I face her and bend slightly so I can see her face. She’s smiling, but I can see the sadness behind her gaze. I know that she wants so much more than she has, but I can also tell she’s scared to have it. So, she stays where she is in this comfortable limbo.
“I’ll be here. You are coming with me, because I know without a doubt with the way he looks at you that you are special.”
I close the door without answering her, but I do hear her laugh inside her car. She knows I’ll go. And I will. Because at the end of the day, I want to see him, even if he may not wish to see me. But there’s also Tempt. There is no way I can just let her be the queen of anything. She’s horrible.
Walking around the back of the house, I slip inside the patio door and lock it behind me, then make my way to the front door and wave at Reese before I close and lock the door behind me. She takes off, and I turn to head into the kitchen and make something to eat, but something causes me to pause.
Turning my head to the side, I don’t react. There is no reason to. Any other woman may have a reaction to see this man in her living room, but he doesn’t scare me. He’s my own flesh and blood, even if that means he would sell me to the Devil himself.
“Hello, sister,” he purrs.
“Dutch.”
He dips his chin before bringing his hand to his face and rubbing his chin. I don’t ask him why he’s here, mainly because that is exactly what Dutch wants me to do. He is all about dramatics, and he wants me to beg him for any- and everything.
I won’t do it.
“You have a nice place here. Not as nice as you would have had, but nice enough,” he announces.
I stay silent. Waiting for whatever it is that he wants to say. He’s here for a reason. This isn’t a friendly brotherly visit.
“I know your husband is giving us bad dope. He’s fucking up our shit, and there’s nothing I can do about it because Raul doesn’t believe me. But I know it’s him. This shit didn’t start until after he got you, got what he wanted.”
I almost laugh in his face and tell him the truth. He doesn’t want me. Nobody does. That thought should make me sad, but it doesn’t. I want him to fall in love with me. I want him to desire me.
