SEVEN
How to be a Bad House Guest
Seven
A flare was definitely approaching. The sun was relentless as it beat down on my back. The anti-radiation equipment I had did little to protect me. I felt as if I had been roasting in an oven, my fat melting off me in waves as I rode home.
Lack of sleep, the heat, and the long workday was beginning to take its toll on me. If Lucky couldn’t abide by my rules in my house, then he could just pick up his shit and leave. I wouldn’t lose my job because of him. Needless to say, I was in a foul mood when I walked through the front door and didn’t find him in the living room. In fact, all of his stuff had disappeared, too.
I called out his name. For a second, I allowed myself to think that maybe he had found another place to stay before there was a thump from directly above me. Running up the steps, I came to a full stop at the top of the stairs. “What the hell?”
There, tacked onto the door was a sign that read: You are now entering the man cave.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I slammed my fist into the door. “Lucky, open up!”
There was a long minute before my new roomie poked his head out. “Oh, hey.”
“What the fuck is all this?” I asked.
“Oh this?” A smug smile curved his lips. “I’m in the midst of settling in.”
Settling in? “What did you do to my stuff?”
“Relax, your shit is safe. I just took it out.”
“What? Why?” I attempted to walk past him before one muscled forearm shot out to block me. Our eyes met in challenge. I ducked. His foot shot out to trip me. I hopped over it and elbowed past him.
“Ow!”
What the hell did he do to the place? In the nine hours I was gone, the room had completely changed!
The first thing I noticed was the bed. Gone were my cute pink sheets. An ugly material that looked like someone had poured concrete over the bed replaced them. I swung on Lucky, fuming. “Why did you remove my sheets?”
“I know you’re slow,” Lucky drawled, arms crossed over his chest, “but you must’ve realized at some point that I’m a male—”
“Are you deranged?” I walked towards the other side of the bed. “Those sheets had a thousand thread count!” And they certainly looked better than whatever these sandpaper-like sheets were.
“—And we don’t sleep on pink fucking sheets!” he finished.
“That’s what this is about?” I moved towards him. “My sheets are nicer than yours.”
“Mine are a masculine slate color.”
“They’re gray.”
“Slate,” he bit off.
He could call it granite for all I fucking cared. It still looked gray to me. When I turned back to the bed, I had to do a double take because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing on the bed. “Are those T-shirts you’re using as pillow cases?”
Lucky sighed in defeat. “Kitt lost the pillow cases.”
Ha! Gotta love Kitt! Moving closer, I picked one up and grinned. “They’re kind of cute with their little arms sticking out.”
“It’s not cute.” Lucky snatched it from me and placed it back on the bed. “Nothing is supposed to be cute here. This is a man cave. It’s—hey, are you even listening to me?”
“Ooh, what’s that?” I moved to the thing hanging from the ceiling. Then, when I realized what it was, I shot Lucky a dark look over my shoulder. “A hammock? Really?”
Lucky shrugged. “Have you ever had hammock sex before?”
“Excuse me?” I hadn’t, but I wouldn’t admit that to him.
His smile told me he already knew. “You’re missing out.”
“I think I’ll live,” I said, but in my head, images of hammock sex barged into my head like a stampede. One had to be really bendy to be able to do that. An image of Lucky lying naked on a hammock suddenly appeared in my mind. No. No sexual thoughts! Especially not any starring Lucky. “Oh and while we’re on the subject of sex, do not bring your mamas here. You fuck them at Neptune’s or someplace else. But don’t bring them here.”
“Why?” His grin widened. “Are you jealous?”
Jealous? Yeah—no. “The thought of you fornicating in my house sickens me.”
Lucky laughed as he shook his head. “I don’t ‘fornicate,’ as you call it. I fuck.”
“Call it whatever you want. But you keep your dick in your pants, got it?”
“Fine,” he bit out. “But on one condition . . .”
Oh, boy. “Let’s hear it.”
“You can’t enter this room without me here.”
“Same goes with my room, asshole.”
“Trust me,” he said, stepping away from me. “I would never willingly walk into your bedroom. Wouldn’t want to get sucked into the black hole, would I?”
I rolled my eyes. “And another thing, some people actually have to work in the mornings, so next time, don’t occupy the shower then.”
“Fine.” He went back to unpacking his clothes. “Where do you work anyway?”
“At Giovanni’s.”
“In Ward Two?”
I was surprised to find he was familiar with the place. “Yes, I have a managerial position.”
His eyes widened. “The thought of you being in charge of anything worries me.”
“You worried that I’d have you on your knees?”
That grin appeared again. “Baby, you couldn’t handle me even if you tried.”
My own smile built to a grin. “I’d have you down on your knees, head bowed in submission before you’d even know what was happening to you.”
Lucky’s brows rose in surprise. “That sounds like a fem-dom fetish. Is that why all the men flock to you?”
I smiled. “Now you sound jealous.”
“Never.” His eyes flashed. “Fire and ice, remember?”
The words I once said to him were like gasoline on an old flame, igniting memories involving the two of us. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to form a front against them. “Exactly,” I agreed, meeting his eyes. “Fire and ice.”
There was a challenging glint as he held my gaze. I knew he had to be thinking about the kiss. Did he regret it? Or did he want more? I was the first to look away. I didn’t want to go back there. Not now. Not ever.
The small smile appearing on his lips told me that he knew I was feeling uncomfortable. The room suddenly felt too hot. I moved towards the door, but Lucky easily stepped into my way. “So all I need to do is stay clear of your room and keep my dick in my pants. Anything else I need to remember?”
“Just stay out of my way,” I told him as I stepped around him.
And then maybe he’d stay out of my thoughts too.
Lucky
I woke to find someone in the room with me the next morning. “Rise and shine, motherfucker,” Seven sang.
“Didn’t we go over this last night?” I grumbled. “You’re not allowed in this room anymore.”
“You said I couldn’t come in this room without you. You’re still in bed, so technically, I’m not breaking any of the rules.” Unbelievable. How was I going to live with this? “But don’t distract me,” Seven continued. “I came in here for a reason.”
“Why are you pointing my own pistol at me?”
Seven raised it up higher. “This is the reason why I’m here. Why am I finding your shit all over the place?”
“Put it down. You don’t even know what you’re doing.”
When I rose from the bed, she quickly covered her eyes with a hand. “Oh my God, why are you naked?” she wailed.
I strode towards her and snatched my pistol from her. “Because I live here now. And I always sleep nude.”
“Ew!” Seven kept her hand in front of her eyes as she said, “Why can’t you keep your weapons locked up like a normal person?”
“Why the fuck would I lock them up? I use them.” I remembered leaving this one downstairs on the kitchen table.
“Are you still naked?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Put some clothes on, for God’s sake!” I grinned as a flush emerged on her cheeks. My nakedness was making her uncomfortable. “And it’s not safe. What if someone found it and tried using it on you?”
“Aw. I didn’t know you cared.” I moved to grab a towel and some clothes for a shower.
“I don’t care about you. I just don’t like the way you leave your shit all over the place.”
Oh, now I got it. “Are you OCD?” She had to be to make such a big deal over something so miniscule.
“No, I’m just not a slob.”
“You’re anal,” I said with a smile. I pulled out a few clean shirts. Did I want to wear black or gray today?
“And you’re an asshole,” she volleyed, dropping her hand from her face. “Is it really necessary to leave your weapons all over the house?” When she realized I was still buck-ass naked, she gasped and twirled around to face the other wall. “Why are you still naked? I told you to put some clothes on! Don’t you have any decency?”
She looked totally crazy yelling at me but facing a wall. “Forgive me, but most women don’t ask me to put my clothes on. I’m new to this.” God, I just loved teasing her! “And to answer your other question, yes, I need everything within reaching distance.”
“Why do you need them in every room though? Why don’t you just keep one on you at all times?”
I did, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “Because you never know when someone will attack.”
“Even in the shower?”
“Have you ever been attacked while naked and soapy in the shower before?”
“No.”
“Let me tell you, it ain’t fun.”
“God, you’re so paranoid. Is everyone in Glory MC like this?”
“I’m not paranoid. I’m prepared. There’s a difference.”
“Whatever.”
“I’m dressed,” I told her as I zipped up a pair of jeans.
When she turned around, her eyes went to my exposed chest. “I can see your nipples. You call that dressed?”
Does nothing please this woman? “I’m hopping in the shower anyway. It just felt weird talking to you while you were facing the wall.”
Seven laughed. “I’ll leave, but”—She pointed sternly at me—“if I find your shit in the kitchen again . . .”
“Yeah, yeah. Got it.”
As she huffed and headed for the door, I jumped into the shower, thinking of the rules Seven had imposed on me. No entering her bedroom without her permission. No sex in the house. No leaving weapons out in the open. What would be next? No having friends over? No alcohol? By this rate, Seven and I would be at each other’s throats by the end of the week!
And there was still the matter of sorting the shit out between us. It was clear that Seven was still upset about it. We had to talk and I needed to apologize. But a strange part of me almost didn’t want to. Apologizing meant I regretted what had happened and though the end had spun into hell, it hadn’t been something I could easily forget.
“What’s for breakfast?” I asked her later when I came down to the kitchen.
“Make your own breakfast,” she snapped.
Okay, so she was still angry, but we had to talk about that night eventually. “We should talk,” I began.
Seven didn’t even look up from her work. “Save it. Kitt’s coming over.”
What? “Why?”
“We’re friends, if you haven’t noticed.”
Oh, I’d noticed and I didn’t get it. Kitt was the most leveled person I knew. “How do you two even get along?”
“I could say the same about you,” Seven said as she began stirring something in a pot.
“We’re different though.” At least Kitt could punch me if I got on his nerves. I peered over her shoulder. “What are you making?”
“Spaghetti Bolognese. For when Kitt gets here.”
“You’re not even going to offer me some?”
“You don’t even like spaghetti Bolognese.”
“You don’t know that.” Seven sent me a look that said, Come on, really? All right, so I hated the stuff, but I didn’t think Seven cared one way or another about what I liked and didn’t like.
A food processor sat in front of her, ready to be used. “Can you turn on the stove?” she asked. I came around to switch on the gas oven just as Seven approached with a pot of water. “And can you take the vegetables out of the fridge?”
“Sure.” The fridge was dark as a cave when I opened it.
Seven came around beside me and frowned. “Flare?”
“Yeah.” Disappointment laced my tone. Must’ve taken the electricity with it, too.
Seven shrugged. “I guess it was due.”
I nodded. It had been a while since we had one. “Can you still cook your meal?”
“Yes, but the generator should’ve automatically gone on. You’ve fixed it, right?” Oh shit. With all the Phantoms business happening and unpacking, I’d totally forgotten about it. Seven turned, unleashing her angry gaze on me. “I told you to fix it! That was the deal, Lucky.”
“I’ll take a look at it,” I said quickly.
“It’s too late now. We won’t have electricity for however long this power failure lasts. Now all of our food will go bad.”
“I’ll take a look at it,” I repeated.
With a sigh, Seven presented her back to me, removing the food processor from her workspace and opting to simply cut up the ingredients herself. While she did that, I headed straight to the generator that was housed in the back of the supply closet.
Bending at the knees, I looked it over. Generators had become essential after the start of the flares. Unpredictable onslaughts caused everyone to have one of their own, but maintaining them in the post-flare world was difficult. They could malfunction or get damaged by the intense heat. It didn’t take long for one to wear out now.
Though Glory MC specialized in automotives, we also carried generators when we realized the high demand for them. It helped that we knew how to fix them whenever repair was necessary.
But one glance at the thing and I knew this one was ready for Westborough. If it were a simple problem such as a blown fuse or an issue with the circuit breaker, I could’ve fixed it, but I could tell by the voltmeter that it wasn’t supplying any voltages. The problem could be a list of things, ranging from issues with the engine, the exhaust system, the piston rings, or even the valves. Replacing it would be more cost efficient.
Seven had just finished cutting up the vegetables and was sliding them off the cutting board and into the pot when I came back into the kitchen. “Your generator’s busted,” I told her.
“I know that. That’s why I asked you to fix it.”
“I mean, it can’t be fixed.”
Her sigh seemed both disappointed and frustrated. “I thought you said you were good at this kind of stuff.”
“I am.” Not cockiness. Just fact. “And I can tell you that you’re better off getting a new one with the cost it’ll take to get it fixed. How long have you had that thing anyway?”
“About six years.”
I nodded. “You’re due a new one. I’ll place an order for you when I head into Neptune’s.”
“How long will it take?”
“Depends on the stock. I could have one here tonight. Or, if you’re really shit outta luck, it may take weeks.”
“Weeks?”
“I’ll check it out for you.”
She sighed heavily. “Fine.” Then she resumed her cooking.
The knock on the door signaled Kitt’s arrival a moment later. “What smells so good?” he asked as he entered the kitchen. Seven turned and beamed at him as if he was a fucking messiah and she was his loyal servant. What the hell was that all about? She never smiled at me that way.
Kitt pulled her into a hug and she showed him a seat. As he settled into it, he shot me a glance. “How’s the sheets I got you?”
“Better than the pink shit, that’s for sure.”
“The two of you living together must keep things really entertaining,” Kitt mused.
Not really. “I woke up to find her aiming my pistol at me.”
Kitt’s panther eyes widened with disbelief as he glanced back at Seven. All she did was shrug like it was no big deal. “He leaves his weapons all over the place. Anyone can just waltz right in and take them.”
“It’s only you and me living here,” I argued.
“So I showed him how his weapons could be used against him if he left his shit around.” Her evil grin made an appearance.
Irritation was once again gnawing at my bones as she ignored me. But as long as Kitt was here, I was sure he’d have my back on this. You know, brotherly support and all that. “She’s right, Lucky,” Kitt agreed.
“Come again?”
“You gotta take better care of your weapons,” the sergeant at arms explained. “They need to be handled with care.”
As my jaw dropped, Seven shot me a triumphant smile. The scathing glare I sent Kitt didn’t even register with him. “Can I help you with something?” he asked Seven.
“Sure.”
Kitt sent me a cutting look. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m actually pretty good at cooking.” Um. Had he not just realized he’d taken Seven’s side over mine?
“What have you cooked?” Seven inquired, eyes glittering with interest.
“Meth doesn’t count,” I drawled.
“Funny,” Kitt said dryly. “I’d like to see you cook from scratch.”
“Nope. Not happening. We’ve got church soon.”
“I know. I’ll be there.” I slumped as my eyes closed slowly. The idiot just let the raft of survival pass. What the hell was wrong with him? Did he actually want to spend time with Seven? If so, there was no hope left in the world. Might as well say, sayonara, brother now while I still had the chance.
Without a parting word, I left the two happily playing Betty Crocker as I tucked my pistol in the waistband of my jeans and headed for the clubhouse.
Seven
My eyes trailed after Lucky as he left. Finally, I could breathe. What was it about Lucky that irritated me so much? He had the power to affect me even when everything else seemed to slide off me like oil.
“Sorry. I would’ve been further along before you came but with the flare, I couldn’t use my food processor.”
“I don’t mind.” Kitt continued stirring the pot of sauce. His muscles hidden beneath a full sleeve of tattoos rippled like water as he moved. Within seconds, he had finished with the stirring. “What else do you want me to do?”
“Could you keep an eye on the stove over there?”
“Sure.”
The contrast between being with Lucky and being with Kitt was extreme. Kitt took instruction well. He never talked back. And if he didn’t like something, he found a way to communicate it without coming across as an asshole. Lucky, on the other hand, operated on his own whim, never letting anyone regulate his behavior.
Especially not me.
The differences didn’t stop there. Side by side, Lucky and Kitt couldn’t have looked more different than night and day.
The sergeant at arms looked even more intimidating because he was heavily tattooed. The artistic ink traveled along both his arms and even across his chest and legs. Lucky, on the other hand, had his own pieces on display, but his golden skin refused to be shown up by the exquisite detail of the eagle on his back.
Added to that was Lucky’s killer smile. The man knew his effect on women and wielded it as a weapon frequently. He just oozed confident swagger and good times with his charming words, and women seemed to fall prey to it every time.
But not me.
The guy laughing it up in the middle of the bar wouldn’t have interested me. Instead, the one in the corner, watching everyone else as they partied would be the guy I would have trailed to. Indy once told me I had a taste for bad boys. I believed it was partially true. Secrets intrigued me and if I wanted to know something about a guy, I’d stride up to him and ask him myself. You couldn’t do that with someone like Lucky. Lucky liked women who were sweet and shy, who would blush and smirk at every little compliment he gave you. If sheep were what interested him then a tigress like me wouldn’t do him any good.
“Are these done?” Kitt asked, cutting into my thoughts.
“They’re perfect.” I took the bowl I was working on and transferred its contents into the pot on the stove. In ten or so minutes, we’d be able to have brunch.
Stirring occasionally, I kept an eye on the stove as Kitt chopped up some fresh parsley.
“Um,” Kitt said, looking warily at the stove beside me. “Are you sure it’s supposed to do that?”
The sauce was bubbling, spitting out like angry hot lava. I cursed, reaching for the knob to adjust the heat. “This stupid stove keeps malfunctioning on me! The heat suddenly spikes and I can never get it to stay one temperature for long.”
“Don’t you have another stove?”
“You mean the one Lucky was supposed to fix? He hasn’t.”
Kitt laughed. “I’d take a look at it, but I don’t know shit about that stuff. Best leave it to the guy who does.”
“Except he won’t touch it.”
Kitt glanced at me. “Look, I know you and Lucky don’t get along, but he’s actually a nice guy if you get to know him. Why don’t you . . .” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I don’t know. Talk to him?”
Lucky’s earlier words resurfaced. We should talk.
Yeah, that was the last thing I wanted to do right now. Rehashing those emotions wasn’t something I wanted to experience again so soon after his return. More than anything, I was angry at not just what his disappearance did to me, but also what his return meant. How were we supposed to deal with what had happened without turning things awkward between us? “There’s no such thing as talking with Lucky,” I told Kitt. “We fight. We argue. We bicker about the most inane things. We just don’t seem to get along.”
“Lucky is only nasty when he sees people as a threat.” I shot him a look that said, gimme a break, but Kitt continued, “He was pissed at me now because he was jealous.”
“Jealous?” I echoed in disbelief. “What would give you that idea?”
Kitt leaned in to rest his elbows on the countertops. “I don’t know what happened before I got here, but the moment I walked through the front door, I thought he was going to give me a boot in the ass. Didn’t help that I took your side on the weapons standpoint. Something tells me that I may have walked into something.”
I slid a curious glance at Kitt. The man was way more perceptive than I ever figured him to be. But that didn’t mean I was open to discussing what happened between Lucky and me with him. “Why does this feel like some romantic comedy? Like you’re like the gay best friend who tries to make me see the good side in the jackass hero.”
“I can assure you, I like women too much for that to be true. I’m just telling you what I saw.”
I dropped the spoon I had been using to stir. “This isn’t edible. It’s completely burnt underneath.”
Kitt frowned. “All that work for nothing?”
“Sorry. Unless we cook by fire, it’s going to take a while unless the power comes back on. Do you want to go to Neptune’s for a quick bite instead?”
“I don’t see any other choice. I’m starved.” He was already putting on his cut. “Besides, we have a meeting. You can ride on my bike.”
Before we headed out, I made sure the stove was off and that the burnt food was in the trash. There wasn’t much I could do about the food in the fridge except hope that the power came back sooner rather than later. No matter how much I wanted to deny it, my thoughts were focused on Lucky and how much easier life would be if I could avoid him. And yet here I was, getting on the back of his brother’s bike, heading straight to him once again.