“Hey, Casper.” The little dude was nervous, though I didn’t know why.
Cody gasped. “Holy fuck. What? How?”
“I’m guessing no one told you,” I remarked quietly as Cody got his shit together and literally jumped over the couch to reach Cameron.
They both laughed as Cody lifted him off his feet in a hug, and I swallowed hard at the sound. It was the first time I’d heard it in the two days Cameron had been hanging out at my house. I wasn’t sure what was going on with Tommy, but Grease had dropped Cameron off both times, so the club knew where he was. I wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but kept my mouth shut. The kid wanted a safe place to hang out? I wasn’t doing anything after work, and I kind of liked the company anyway.
“You’ve been hanging out with my woman?” Cody teased, pulling my attention back to him as he ruffled Cameron’s hair. “How the hell did that happen?”
His gaze came to me and I shook my head slightly. I didn’t think it was something the kid would want to go over again. It had been hard enough to live it.
“So, you’re back now?” I asked, wrapping my arms around my chest. I was fighting tears at their reunion and it pissed me off. I didn’t cry at happy things. That was ridiculous.
“Shit, yeah, and we need to talk. You okay out here? We’ll be right back.” He looked at Cameron, slapping him on the shoulder and giving it a squeeze in one of those weird male rituals. Then he ushered me into my room.
“I really hope you don’t think we’re having sex with an eleven-year-old in the living room,” I said, coming to a stop at the end of my bed.
“Seriously?” He rubbed his hand over his head. “I can’t believe that shit. How the hell is Cam—what—? Fuck, I’ll figure it all out later. We’ve got some shit happening at the club and we’re locking it down. You need to pack a bag.”
I looked at him incredulously. He must be out of his mind.
“Um, no.”
“Farrah, I didn’t ask you. I told you,” he replied, looking for a bag in the closet.
I wanted to stomp my foot like Will did when he didn’t get his way.
“You took my only bag, remember? When you took off and didn’t tell me that Trish was dead or what you were doing or where you were going or what the hell was the matter with you.” With each word my anger mounted, but he was too distracted to notice.
“Fuck. I’ll grab a garbage bag. Start grabbing the things you’ll need. Enough for a while, we aren’t sure how long this shit is going to take.” He paused to take a deep breath and I wanted to scream as he ignored my comments about the last time I’d seen him.
“I’m not going to your club,” I told him again. “No, thank you.”
He was wound tight as hell, I’d noticed it when he’d walked in, but once he’d seen Cameron it had seemed to evaporate. Unfortunately, the minute we hit the bedroom, the tightness of his muscles and the stress in his eyes had shown back up.
“I am not fucking playing with you, Farrah,” he enunciated clearly. “Get your shit or I’m taking you without it. I don’t give a fuck if you spend the entire time wrapped in your fucking quilt because you don’t have any makeup.”
I inhaled sharply at the low blow. Using my odd need for things to look just right against me wasn’t even a little bit okay. I wanted to argue with him, be a bitch and make him pack my things himself, but I caught myself just before I did something stupid. I’d known there was something going on, but it took me a moment to catch the inflections in Cody’s voice instead of just the words.
He wasn’t being a dick.
He was scared, and that scared me, so I sucked up my attitude.
“I have a suitcase under the bed,” I told him quietly, walking forward to wrap my arms around his waist. I hadn’t seen him for days, and before we left the house and our lives became a complete clusterfuck, I needed to feel him. Just for a second.
“I’ll get that, you get all your shit,” he said, kissing my head. He ran his hands up my arms and around my neck as he tipped my face to his. “Hurry, Ladybug.”
We packed in record time, with Cameron helping me put all my toiletries into separate ziplock bags. He grumbled about it, but I think he was glad to have something to do. All of his things were at the club now, mostly clothes that the old ladies had pitched in and bought him. If Tommy was helping with anything, I hadn’t heard about it, and it pissed me off. I liked the fact that Cameron came over to hang out, but was concerned that he felt the need to spend time away from his only surviving family member. Something wasn’t right there.
It took us about twenty minutes before we were out on the road, Cody leading the way to the club with Cameron and me riding in my car. Gram had been staying with Callie, and apparently Grease was making sure they got to the club too. I hoped that they were there before I was. The entire situation was scary, not only packing and leaving in the middle of the night, but also the fact that I was going to be surrounded by people who didn’t like me. I needed to know my family was safe, and I wanted them with me.
My hands shook and grew sweaty on the steering wheel as the guy at the gate checked inside my car and trunk with a flashlight. It didn’t even matter that I was the president’s daughter and had Cameron with me, he still checked everywhere. By the time we parked in the grass to the side of the club building, I could feel sweat gathering on my top lip. Really fucking attractive. I’d never been so glad for the tissues I kept in my glove box, even if Cameron was looking at me like I was crazy as I blotted my face.
I popped my trunk open and took a deep breath before climbing out of the car. I could do this; I just needed to stay near my family and I’d be fine. Piece of cake. Cameron flew out the door as soon as I stood up and disappeared into the darkness, and I almost jumped out of my skin as Cody came up behind me.
“You’re staying in my room,” he informed me, pulling my suitcase out of the trunk. “I know you’re freaked out, but you’re with me and you’ve got Grease too. No one’s going to mess with you.”
I nodded, taking a deep breath as we made our way through the tall grass. I could see Brenna and Dragon’s house in the distance, every window lit up, despite the late hour. Their lives had been interrupted too, even though they lived in the compound.
The thought made me pause. Is this really the life I wanted? Running out of the house in the dark, frantically choosing what I could stand to lose? What if we had kids? I’d have to hustle them out of their beds, scare them.
Before I realized it, we were walking into a massive room with a bar on one side, and couches and a pool table on the other. A bunch of adults and kids were talking in quiet voices around the room as women laid out sleeping bag after sleeping bag on the floor. I scanned the place, looking for Gram or Callie, and after a few seconds I saw them walking out of what seemed to be a hallway off the back wall.
“There’s Gram,” I told Cody with a tilt of my head. No one had noticed us yet, and I was afraid if I pointed or looked too closely at the other occupants of the room, someone would realize we’d walked in.
“Wonder where Gram’s staying tonight?” Cody murmured.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the room as I kept my chin high and my eyes on his back. I wasn’t going to cower, fuck that, but I refused to see the look on people’s faces when they recognized me.
“Oh, Farrah! Thank God you’re here,” Gram exclaimed, pulling me into her arms. “All my babies are in one place.”
“Hey, Gram,” I murmured into her hair. Just the smell of her calmed me down.
“Where are you sleeping?” Cody asked.
“Oh, Poet says I can sleep in his bed,” Gram replied, and Cody began to sputter. “Oh, get your mind out of the gutter. He’s sleeping on his daughter’s couch.”
I laughed a little at the relief on Cody’s face.
“Hope you cleaned that fucking disaster you call a room, brother,” Grease commented, pulling our attention from Gram to see him standing with one arm around Ca
llie’s shoulders. “Farrah’s gonna leave your ass, you expect her to sleep in it.”
My nose wrinkled at the thought of Cody having a messy bedroom. I couldn’t imagine it, but my head snapped up to stare at him when he replied.
“Had April clean the shit while I was gone.” His hand squeezed mine, but I couldn’t read his expression.
Who the fuck was April?
Chapter 19
Farrah
“I’ve got a bathroom in here, so you won’t have to share,” Cody told me, dropping my bag just inside the door of his room. “It’s not huge, but at least we won’t be crowded into the main room.”
“How’d you score a room?” I asked, looking around at the bare walls and the plain black comforter on his bed. I’d seen the number of men in the main room, and the number of doorways in the long hallway off the back of the club. That shit didn’t add up.
“Some of the brothers don’t keep a room here,” he said with a shrug. “That’s why they’re all camping out on the floor. If I didn’t have an old lady, I would have been expected to give up the room, but since I do . . .”
“Wait, what?” I turned to look at him in horror.
“What?”
“You’re talking about me?”
“Oh, fuck me. Are we really getting into this now?” he asked in irritation. “Of course I’m talking about you. When the fuck would I have time for someone else, and why the fuck would you be in this room if you weren’t mine?”
I spluttered, trying to find the words to blast him. He was irritated? Fuck that! He was the one who’d promised we weren’t putting labels on shit! We were as good as married in the club’s eyes, and I’d had no fucking idea.
“Who’s April?” I asked stonily, not willing to give an inch.
“The bitch that cleans the fucking club. You’re being an idiot.”
“Fucking fantastic, Cody,” I mumbled, yanking my suitcase farther into the room. Once I’d opened it up and found the makeup case I was looking for, I met his eyes. “You can go.”
“Why are you being such a bitch?” he asked, reaching behind him to lock the door. Good, at least when I beat the hell out of him, no one could come in to save his ass.
“You said no labels!”
“I told you that you didn’t have to label it. I never said shit about claiming you at the club,” he growled back.
“Semantics!” I argued, my voice even. I didn’t want everyone to hear us fighting, but my tone was scathing. “Echo never—”
He tackled me onto the bed midsentence, knocking the makeup case across the room. I found myself glaring at his face as he straddled my belly and captured my hands above my head.
“Echo was a fucking pussy,” he said with a sneer, so close I could feel his breath on my face.
“Shut up! You didn’t know him!”
“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want.” He punctuated his vow by squeezing my wrists. “He didn’t take care of you.”
“Yes, he—”
“No. He didn’t.”
“Let me talk!” I screeched, bucking my hips in an unsuccessful attempt to move him.
“No. I’m talking now,” he said menacingly. “I watched you lose your shit when he died, and I didn’t say shit because I knew you couldn’t handle it.”
“Fuck you!”
“But we’re going to get a few things straight, right now. Echo was a fucking pussy who didn’t take care of you. He didn’t say shit when you were fucking wasting away. He didn’t do shit about your parents fucking beating on you and making your life miserable. He was too concerned with his own ass to make sure that yours was safe. He didn’t deserve your tears. The guy deserves to be dead.”
“No, he doesn’t.” I sobbed, barely able to catch my breath as his words pummeled me. He was relentless, pushing and poking at every memory I had of the first man I’d thought loved me. I slammed my eyes shut and fought the memory of the day I’d locked myself in my bedroom, calling Echo over and over until Gator had finally broken through the door, my phone and any chance of escape lost.
“Don’t,” I cried out. “He was good to me. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Listen to me.” He shook me gently. “Look at me!”
I opened my eyes to meet his, and my stomach dropped.
“I am in love with you,” he said. “There is not one thing I wouldn’t do for you. I’d kill for you. I’d die for you. No hesitation, no question. Do not ever compare me to Echo again. That man is dead, and he isn’t worth the dirt he’s buried under. Do you understand me?”
“He wasn’t—”
“He wasn’t anything, Farrah. He didn’t claim you because he wasn’t worth shit. You were my old lady from the night you pulled into town. I claimed you, even knowing you would be pissed. You know why?”
I sniffled, my breath hiccupping in my throat. Tears were still rolling down the sides of my face, and I hated him for making me cry in front of him. “No.”
“Because I would do anything to keep you safe.” He leaned down, pressing my hands into the bed, and kissed me hard. “Even if you hate me for it.”
His tongue pushed into my mouth, and he let go of my wrists to grip my head. I slapped at his chest even as I kissed him back, my emotions too strong to contain. I wanted him and loved him and hated him as I fought against his words. I was so afraid that what he was saying was the truth.
Our fight turned to desperation as I tore off his cut and the T-shirt underneath, scratching his back with my nails. He yanked my shirt over my head, and instead of unsnapping my bra, pulled out a knife from his jeans and flicked it up from between my breasts, cutting the bra in half.
We pushed and pulled and rolled around the bed, at one point almost hitting the floor until Cody caught us, using one arm to push us back up. He bit me and I bit him, our bodies red and sweaty by the time we’d stripped our bottom halves.
“Brace your hands on the wall,” he ordered as he knelt above me, his chest heaving. Without thought, I followed his direction, placing my hands on the cold concrete above my head.
“Brace ’em, Ladybug,” he repeated.
As soon as I’d locked my elbows, he pulled my hips from the bed and slammed inside me. My head flew back, the tendons in my neck straining as I held back my cry. I was still conscious of the people outside his room, but I wouldn’t be for long.
His fingers dug into my hips, pulling me toward him as he snapped his hips forward again and again, and soon I was moaning with every thrust. Then he let go of one of my hips and ran his fingers down the length of my chest, from my neck to my belly button. He wiped away the sweat that had been beading on my skin, and my entire body clenched as he lifted his fingers to his lips and licked them clean.
“Tastes good,” he rasped.
He pounded in again before pulling out with a muffled curse, then flipped one of my legs over the other so I was lying with my bottom half twisted sideways.
“Keep those arms up,” he reminded me as he pushed the top leg until my thigh was resting against my chest.
Without any warning, he pushed slowly back inside me. The change in angle and the tight feeling of his entry had me gasping, the sweat on my hands making them slip against the wall. He leaned down so one of his forearms was braced beside me—his fingers wrapped gently around my upraised arm—and rested his chest against my torso, bringing the other hand up to rub up and down my bent leg, keeping it in place.
“Oh my God.” I groaned, clenching my teeth as he started to move faster.
He made a noise against my collarbone as he grasped behind my knee and rotated his hips just a fraction. I was so immersed in him—the way he smelled, the taste of his skin, the sound of his voice in my ear—that by the time he let go of my thigh to reach down and pinch my clit, hidden under my drawn-up thigh, I was so close to orgasm I detonated on contact.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered in my ear. “I take care of you, don’t I?”
I moaned h
igh in my throat as the orgasm went on and on until finally my body relaxed. As soon as it was finished, his hand slipped away from where we connected and grabbed the opposite arm. Without slowing his thrusts, he turned me fully onto my side. When I was exactly how he wanted me, he leaned down to tenderly kiss my lips, and then used my hair to jerk my face away from him.
Breathing heavily, he came, biting down on the back of my neck.
He summarized his point by once again covering Echo’s mark with his own.
Son of a bitch. I was too tired to argue anymore.
Chapter 20
Farrah
The first few days at the club actually weren’t that bad. People seemed to give me a wide berth, which suited me just fine. I wasn’t there to make friends, and if it had been up to me, I wouldn’t have been there at all. I was pretty small potatoes when it came to club politics, and I doubted anyone would have even connected me to the Aces, but Cody was adamant that it wasn’t safe for me outside the barbed wire fence that surrounded the grounds.
I didn’t fight him on it. I’d felt like shit when I had to call in to work, but when I’d told the owner that I had a family emergency, he’d been super cool about it. At least I didn’t have to worry about losing my job. I could live with being cooped up with a bunch of people I didn’t know as long as my family was around.
I spent most of my time hanging outside with Callie, Will, and occasionally Cameron. Gram had found her way into the kitchen and was schooling all the other women on how to feed an army, and Cody was mostly off doing shit for the guys in the club, so I didn’t see them as much.
After the first day, the adults had realized that it was insane to try to keep the kids locked inside, so they set up some water games and yard toys in the field behind the building. The old ladies were comfortable with each other, and they took shifts slathering the kids in sunscreen and watching them run wild, but none of them ever made their way into our little group.
I felt bad that I seemed to be alienating Callie from the women she had so much in common with, but it really couldn’t be helped. They didn’t want anything to do with me—my reputation must have preceded me—so even if I’d smiled at them and tried to play nice, they wouldn’t have given us the time of day. We were interlopers, and by the strain on Callie’s face by the end of each day, I knew it was weighing on her.