CHAPTER SIX
CHERRY
2 Years Later
The ceiling is spotted from where the roof has leaked over the last few years. My body beads with sweat from the unbearable heat as I lie on the bed and stare up at it. The small air conditioner placed in the window is not keeping up with the fucking heat this summer. Lip put it in trying to cool the house down, but it ain’t working. I may just evaporate into a pool of sweat if I lie here long enough.
Lip was finally released from prison about a month ago, the club lawer finally got him off on self-defense and his extended time was taken off. But, things are not like they used to be. Not at all. He’s quiet, often looking at me when he doesn’t think I’ll notice, but as soon as I make eye contact, he looks away. He has this raw energy surrounding him, like something dark dwells within his chest and it might just rip through at any minute.
I thought he would paw me to death, fuck me into oblivion as soon as he got out, but that was hardly the case. He hung out at the club for a few days, getting patched in for his honorable duties. He had to learn the ropes. After that, the club had a big returning home party. I was nervous Lip would cheat on me. The way things were going I wasn’t sure where we stood. Instead, he came home drunk and screwed me on the couch. I didn’t realize how much I truly missed him until he was inside me. Him coming home after the party tucked all my insecurities away. His hands claiming me, and his hot breath whispering in my ear about how much he missed me almost put all the broken pieces of my heart back together. Almost. Things still aren’t right between us. He’s not the guy I remember. We are not how I remember.
“Heading to the club. Don’t wait up,” Lip states, striding through the bedroom. I sit up on my elbows and cock an eyebrow. His hair is wet and messy and my hands ache to tug on it. His arms bulge through his sleeveless black leather cut, revealing all of his tattoos and their vibrant color. My eyes sway down to his tight jeans that sculpt that sexy ass of his. His butt is fine, but not fine enough for me to forget him not coming home tonight—again.
“Don’t wait up? What’s that supposed to mean? What the fuck are you doing?” My face twists with anger. Lip has been a recluse since he’s been out of prison. He rides alone, watches TV alone. He’s … alone. I’ve been alone without him the last six years and want nothing more than to play catch-up, but he has different ideas.
He sits at the end of the bed and shoves his foot into his dirty boot. Turning his head, he eyes me with those drop-dead-sexy brown eyes. “Exactly what I said—I won’t be here.” His voice is deep and rugged, something I definitely missed hearing every day while he was locked up.
I roll my eyes and swing my legs over the bed to get up.
“Seriously? You’ve been gone a lot lately,” I cross my arms and pop my hip out. “I wish you would talk to me, Lip. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.” I step up to him and run my hands through his wet hair from the shower. He’s hiding something; I can feel it in my chest.
Lip shakes his head from my grip and pulls on his last boot. “I ain’t got time for this shit this morning.” My eyes widen with his tone of voice, and my heart sinks. He’s been losing his temper with me a lot lately—with anything, really. The other day, the kitchen drawer wouldn’t open so he yanked it open with anger, breaking the entire thing. I’ve never seen Lip react like that. I’m starting to feel like maybe what we had before isn’t what we have now. Maybe we’ve grown apart. I mean, we only knew each other for a short time before he was locked up, and we didn’t exactly have a lot of contact over the years.
He stands up, taller than me by six inches. Stepping up to me, he looks down at me. His dark brown eyes pierce right through me, and I hold my breath.
“Don’t be a pain in the ass today.” He leans down and smacks my forehead with a kiss, his lip ring cold against my sweaty skin.
I follow him out of the room, my hands on my hips. I have so many things on the tip of my tongue just ready to spew his way, but I can’t open my mouth. I feel like I don’t even know this man anymore.
“Later,” he tosses over his shoulder as he slams the front door.
My breathing quickens, my nostrils flaring to allow the harsh breathing to escape. In a fit of anger, I grab the picture of me and Lip that someone took of us when he first brought me to the club and throw it at the door. The glass on the frame shatters, and it splits in two before falling every which way. I’ve waited for his ass for six years. SIX FUCKING YEARS, and this is what I get when he comes back?
He won’t even tell me why he went to prison. Club rule. If it’s club business, it’s none of the ol’ ladies’ business, meaning none of my business. The time I spent with Lip before he went to prison, he was sweet and would spend every minute of the day he could with me. Most of those tangled in sheets, screwing my brains out, telling me how perfect I was. Sometimes it was as if it were too good to be true. But since he’s been out of prison… I haven’t seen that man. Prison changes people; that’s what I was told over and over by the girls at the club. I refused to believe it … until Lip got out. He went in a sensual man, but he came out something darker than the caverns of Hell. He’s not Lip. When I look in his eyes, I see secrets, I see … something unfamiliar.
I blow out an irritated breath and look at the clock.
7:00 AM
“Shit.” I hurry into the room and pull on a black tank top with a white skull printed on the front, and shimmy on some shorts. I can’t say anything about Lip having secrets… ‘cause I have one. A big one.
One that is six years old and looks just like me, and I still haven’t told him about her. How can I?
***
Sitting in my car, I watch the little girl with strawberry-blonde hair trot down the stairs of her house. She’s wearing the clothes I gave her yesterday: a green skirt and a white top with a watermelon on it. Her father is a fucking douchebag. He had her in clothes two sizes too big again, and they were boy clothes at that. I’ve wanted to tell Lip about her so many times over the years, but I just couldn’t. I was going to tell him about her, but I couldn’t while he was locked up. I should tell him now, but it doesn’t seem like the right time. I groan in frustration.
I drive to the trailer park, thoughts of Lip and Piper filling my head. Over the years, I came often during the week to see Piper; of course, it was in the morning after Eric left for work. I would see her off to school, and to see her grow over the years is a bittersweet moment. I bought a book about lawyering, trying to figure out a way around whatever I’m in, but I can’t even read the first fucking chapter with so many legal terms. I pull up to the gas station across from the trailer park and turn the car off. I hate this fucking trailer park. I will not leave my daughter here to grow up. I will figure something out. But that’s just it, I gotta figure it out, be smarter than Eric and that piss-brain judge. It’s risky showing up here, I know, but I can’t stay away. I’m her mother, and Eric obviously is not taking care of her like he should.
She looks up and spots me, her cute little freckled face beaming with energy.
I can’t help but smile and climb out of my red bug.
“Hey there, Piper! You look beautiful today.” She looks down at herself and smiles a toothless grin. “Did you lose a tooth?”
She touches the empty spot in her mouth and nods.
“It came out last night,” she slurs. I laugh, but a piece of me breaks. I should have been there to place her tooth under her pillow with her. I rest my hands on my hips and lift my head to the sky, trying to draw strength from the gods.
“Are you okay, Cherry?”
I blow out an emotional breath and muster a smile.
“Mmhmm. What did your dad say about the clothes?” I bite my lip, nervous.
Piper’s light of innocence fades into something sad. She shrugs, kicking the rocks in front of her.
“He didn’t even notice. He was drunk last night, and was passed out in his puke this morning.” I grind my teeth. I should kill him. I should take Piper and just run, goddamn it.
“Wait, is he home right now?” My body goes stiff.
“Yeah, but he’s passed –”
“I gotta go.” I give her a kiss on the forehead and turn to leave. The hair on my neck is raised in alarm, heart slamming against my chest in fear. He can’t know I’m here, that I’m alive.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” she yells. I turn my head and look over my shoulder. I try to see her every day before school, sometimes after. It’s hard because she’s not supposed to know about me. She doesn’t know me, actually. She knows Cherry… the biker lady who saved her from bullies and became her best friend. I’m all she has.
“Yes, I’ll be here.”
I climb in my car and peel out of the trailer park before Eric sees me.
LIP
I bring the cup of iced tea to my mouth and take a cool sip, the ice cubes sliding against the glass and cooling my lips as I watch a bunch of club whores washing the guys’ bikes. I’ve been at the club a lot lately. I can’t be around Cherry. Those eyes, the way they see right through me, cuts me. I’ve been meaning to sit her down and tell her something that has turned into the blackest lie, but she pins me with those gray eyes, and that loving smile, and I just… I fucking can’t. I wanted to tell her before I was locked up, back when I realized I really cared for her and needed to get shit out in the open, but I kept telling myself one more day, or I’ll tell her tomorrow. Now that lie has grown from a small storm into a violent hurricane. I know I’m being a fucking prick to her lately, and it pains me. But I’m in over my fucking head. I can’t stand to lie to her anymore, but I just can’t be that guy she fell in love with either. It’s not me. I’m not gentle, and I’m not sweet. I have a filthy mouth, the urge to fuck hard, and pull the trigger on my gun at any bastard that crosses me. I am not the man any woman should love, especially Cherry.
“Who’s that chick?” Bobby points out, grabbing me from my dark thoughts. I glance at him, curious how long he’s been standing beside me. He is the prime example of what a surfer should look like, only he’s got tattoos and a leather cut on.
“Which chick?” I reply, looking at my glass uninterested. I got enough shit to deal with right now.
“The one who looks like a fucking doll.”
I raise my stare and look at the bunch of half-naked girls. One with dark hair that falls just above her tits stands out above the rest. Her cheek bones are a slight pink, standing out amongst her smooth porcelain skin, and her hair curls in the front. Just from standing back here, I can see her thick eyelashes. Her frame is slender and small, sporting a Harley Davidson bikini perfectly.
“Jesus, she does look like a fucking doll,” I mutter, taking the last sip of my drink. She’s hot, though; if I could, I’d fuck her.
“Dibs,” Tom Cat claims, walking up beside Bobby and slapping his shoulder. Tom Cat was patched in not too long ago; he’s all right as far as they go.
I laugh, because Tom Cat obviously knows nothing about women. If a woman heard you call dibs, she’d laugh in your face and walk away. Well, the kind I’m interested in anyway. Feisty, stubborn, hard to get.
“Yeah, good luck with that.” I chuckle.
“What, you want her? You hopping off the ol’ Cherry train there, Lip?” Tom Cat taunts, running his hand through his brown hair. I glare in reaction.
“You best shut the fuck up if you know what’s good for ya, Tom Cat. What I do is none of your fucking business.”
His face falls flat, and Bobby looks at me with confusion. I hand Tom Cat my empty glass and stride past the girls.
“Lip!” I stop and look at the group of girls, curious who called my name.
“Hi, I’m washing your bike and was curious if there was anything,” she bats her baby doll lashes at me, “special you might need.” I inhale a strong breath, not sure how to handle the first piece of ass that has thrown themselves at me since I’ve been out. She obviously doesn’t know Cherry, because every girl who has strutted into this club knows Cherry and I are together.
“Yeah, clean it. You missed a spot, Dolly,” I reply coolly, pointing to my Harley tank. Her eyes widen, and she looks back at my bike. The guys laugh behind me, clearly amused by my assholery.
“Where’s Bull? I thought we had church this morning,” I ask Shadow as I walk into the kitchen of the club. Shadow is the VP now, and is also married to the president’s daughter. Yeah, who knew Bull had a fucking daughter? That was one of the not-so-fun events I missed while being locked up. I’m not saying Bull favors Shadow now… but Bull favors him. After I got out of prison, Bull was waiting to pick me up, my patch in hand. Best fucking welcome home gift ever. We had a small party, naked chicks, booze, drugs—all of it. I didn’t fuck around, though; my mother taught me better than that. Seeing the pain she went through when she found out my father messed around on her, I couldn’t do that to anyone.
“He had an emergency this morning,” Shadow mutters, pulling out a tub of ice cream.
I turn and lean against the counter. When I was locked up, a lot of shit went down in the club. FBI was knocking on our door, and I mean that literally. Babs was killed in a hit-and-run, and we even found out that Locks, our previous VP, was a rat. I never did like that guy. During this time, Bull stepped out of reality, too. I got orders inside of prison from Shadow for the last several months I was in the joint. His orders were different then Bull’s—more digressed, more violent. Things I never had to do before, Shadow ordered me to do. He was the VP, so I did what I was ordered.
Lots of shit can go down in a six-year period, but it was all worth it because I got patched in as soon as I walked out of there. I look down at my cut and smirk. Feels good to be a member, to belong. But prison changed me in a way, the things I did and saw; my mind slowly became as tarnished and marred as the walls that imprisoned me.
“Bull’s gone? What about the drop tonight?” Bobby questions, digging in the fridge.
“It’s all set up. It should run smoothly.” Shadow shrugs.
“Suppliers paid?” Bobby asks, pulling out a tub of coleslaw.
“Shit!” Shadow exclaims.
“I’ll take care of it,” I offer.
Shadow looks at his phone and shakes his head.
“If you can, man, that would be great. I need to meet Dani about Zane’s school,” Shadow states. Dani is his wife, and Zane is his little boy. Shit has changed since I was in prison. I never would have thought Shadow as the prime example of a happy family. I mean, his kids are cute, but I don’t want any. Fuck. That.
“Can do,” I reply.
“Want me to come with?” Bobby asks, diving a fork right into the container.
“Nah, I got it. I gotta go to my mom’s afterward.”
“See ya tomorrow, brother,” Bobby sounds around a mouth full of food.
***
The sun is hot on my arms, and the wind is sweeping through my hair. In prison, I thought about a lot of shit. Pussy, good food, a nice bed. But what I missed the most was my bike. There is no therapy like wind therapy. Having the open road at my mercy, my thoughts free to roam where they please. It’s a freedom I longed for.
I pull into the shady-looking bar and turn my bike off. Striding inside, the smell of mold and stale beer is strong.
“I was wondering when you’d be here,” a guy sitting at the bar states. He looks Mexican, with short, dark hair. He has a tattoo of a marijuana leaf on his dark tan skin. He’s wearing a white shirt and black jeans, a gold Rolex shining amongst the shitty bar lights. This place is clearly a front, a way to hide the outrageous amounts of money he’s pocketing. I step over to him and slap the envelope on the counter.
“You Bud?” That is obviously not his name, but what the fuck ever.
“Yup. That two thousand?”
“Yeah.”
He slides his hand over and grabs the envelope.
“Everything’s on schedule then.”
“Great,” I respond, tapping my knuckles against the counter.
Stepping out of the bar, I inhale a large breath, taking in the clean crisp air. That was easy—no bullets, no hustling. Guess I’ll be arriving at my mom’s earlier than I thought. I clench my teeth. It’s as if I long for violence now. I hate it. Taking pain from another is similar to doing drugs. You’re nervous at first, thinking of all the things that can go wrong, but then you push through those unsettling nerves and just do it. You come to find out it’s not that bad. You actually get a high out of it; feel fucking great. You do it again, and then again, and the next thing you know, you start craving it.
I glance over and find a black shiny car parked next to the curb with a man leaning against the hood, his legs crossed out in front of him. I squint, trying to figure out if I recognize the man when he turns his head and looks right at me. Fuck.
“Phillip. You haven’t been answering my calls.” It’s Stevin, the FBI agent who hounded me in prison.
“Get the fuck away!” I yell, pointing off into the distance. Stevin grins and stares off. He knows he’s putting me at risk.
“So, you’ve been ignoring my calls.”
I shake my head before turning and walking toward my bike. “This ain’t prison. You have no leverage over me anymore.”
“I’d think again. I want you as my informant!” Stevin hollers.
“Not my problem.” I step up to my bike, ready to throw my leg over it.
“Yeah, but it will be your problem if your club knows you’ve been talking to the FBI inside of prison.” I stop, my blood running cold as my heart beats to a dangerous level.
“What about the pretty little redhead, huh? I wonder what dirt I can dig up on her.” He lifts his shoulders with a Cheshire grin plastered across his arrogant face.
I nibble on my lip ring, not sure what to do. He’s threatening not only my woman, but my club. I flick my eyes to his and start my bike.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, deciding he’s fucking bluffing. If he were going to do that shit, he’d have done it.
***
Four hours later, I pull up to my mom’s house and see Zeek’s bike already parked in the drive. Zeek and I don’t get along. He’s was my father’s pride and joy, running the Sin City Outlaws in Vegas, carrying on the DeLuca title. I said ‘fuck you both’ and turned my back on them. My uncle is just like my father, and I want nothing to do with any of them. They shoot now and ask later; family is of no importance to them. They care about leverage, rank, and money—nothing else.
“Phillip!” my mother cheers, rushing out of the front door. Her brown hair is pulled into a messy bun, and she has on a Levi shirt with gray sweats chopped off mid-leg.
“Sup, Ma?” I climb off my bike and head toward her, enveloping her small bony frame into mine.
“My boy, it’s been too long,” she cries into the crook of my neck.
“Mom, it’s only been a few weeks,” I laugh.
“Yeah, well, I get lonely.” She pulls back and slaps at my shoulder. “Your brother is inside setting the table now.”
I look at the two-story house, the house that was my mother’s starting over chip. She moved here after my father was killed. I came with her and found Devil’s Dust shortly after. Ever since Zeek and I moved out, Ma has tried to get us to come over for dinner at least once a month. When I was in jail, she would visit at least once a month. Zeek never came, and I didn’t expect him to.
I step inside the house and see pictures of Zeek and me as kids. Mom has them hung all over the living room walls like a fucking shrine. It’s humiliating. I can see it now: if I brought Cherry here, my mother would whip out the pictures and laugh at my expense. My mother knows about her, but that’s about it. She’s asked to meet Cherry, but it’s just not the right time.
The smell of pot roast takes my eyes off the wall and toward the kitchen.
“Smells good, Ma.” I inhale deeply and walk toward the mouthwatering smell.
“Zeek,” I greet, my tone dry.
“Brother,” Zeek responds, sitting at the dining table. His dark brown hair is pulled into a small ponytail at the top, the rest of his head shaved. He’s wearing a dark blue shirt with rosary beads around his neck, and has his boots kicked up on one of Ma’s chairs.
“Sup?” I tug the chair that his feet rest in, making them drop to the floor with a ‘thud’.
Sitting in the chair, I feel him staring at me.
“What?” I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He’s rubbing his chin, a fucking smirk crossing his face.
“You ever talk to your president about letting us in on some business. I told you we got much better drugs than you’re getting, bet money on it,” he states, his tone holding a high volume of confidence.
“No, I didn’t. I think it’s best if you keep your fucking skunk weed in Vegas and out of my affairs, brother,” I retort.
Zeek’s face falls, the veins in his neck protruding suddenly. “My shit is the best in Vegas, I’ll have you know. You can pussy foot around the DeLuca family business all you want, but you will be involved one way or another. I can promise you that, brother,” he threatens. He swears on our father’s dead body that he’ll make me a Sin City Outlaw one day.
“Yeah, I’m sure your weed is that fucking fantastic that you can’t find a buyer, so you’re going to try and hustle me here at Ma’s dinner table.” Sarcasm drips from my voice. I shake my head and smirk at his flustered face.
“Boys, no business talk at the dinner table. I’ve told you that,” Mother scolds, striding into the dining room. She has blue mittens on each hand, carrying the crock-pot to the table.
“Hey, Ma, just trying to help Lip out.” Zeek leans back in his chair, his face back to its normal cocky appearance. He shrugs and smirks. “But Lip never was any good at knowing what was good for him.” I narrow my brows. I’m getting really tired of this back and forth bullshit.
“Zeek!” my mother hisses.
Zeek trails his eyes from me to her.
“Sorry, Ma,” he mutters. He’s not sorry, but he’s about to be. I grab the knife next to my plate; it’s intended for cutting meat, but I’m about to cut into my brother’s neck if he doesn’t shut the fuck up.
Ma sits down and stirs the pot roast.
“So, Lip, when are you going to bring this girl of yours over here for dinner?” My stomach falls. I knew she was going to ask—she does every time I fucking talk to her. I really just need to clear the way between Cherry and me but now I feel like it’s gone on too long. When it is revealed, when I reveal my omission to Cherry, it’ll go badly. I’m not sure Cherry will stick around, and I don’t want to go filling Ma’s head with fairytale shit of me running off into the sunset with some chick, so I keep Cherry away.
“Cherry? Not anytime soon, Ma,” I reply, dipping the ladle into the pot. Ma would love Cherry, and that doesn’t make things easier on me. It’s for the best. Things are already more blurred than I can comprehend as it is, so I don’t need to make it worse by mixing both families together.
“See, doesn’t know what’s good for him. I haven’t seen this bitch, but from what I hear, she’s hot enough to fuck twice on Sundays,” Zeek insults.
I grab the knife and stand from the table. Rage and anger filling my veins, all I see is red. All I want is to make his fucking skin bleed. Nobody talks about Cherry like that. Zeek doesn’t move from his seat, just continues to butter his bread as I stand over him with a serrated knife.
“Lip, sit your fucking ass down now!” My mother stabs the table with a cutting knife, grabbing mine and Zeek’s attention. My mother is a badass bitch, regardless of her attempt to play housekeeper. I have seen her stab a woman for disrespecting her before, shoot at a man trying to get into our house, and she knows the perfect combo to get blood out of the carpet. I woke up in the middle of the night as a child finding her scrubbing the living room carpet enough times to know. She is one female you don’t want to fuck with. I close my eyes and breathe deeply.
“Zeek, you best shut your fucking mouth. Lip, sit your ass down and ease up.” My mother tugs the knife out of the dining table and points it at the food. “Eat, damn it!”
CHERRY
I hear the loud pipes thunder as Lip pulls into the drive, so I turn the shower off and step out to dry off. I pull on my red bra and matching panties before putting on my white shirt and blue jeans.
When I open the door, he’s pulling his shirt over his head. His chiseled chest takes my breath away. I’d do anything to run my claws down that in a fit of ecstasy.
“You’re back,” I state. Lip turns his head slightly before slipping onto the comforter. He said he wouldn’t be back yesterday, and he kept his word. “Where were you?” I interrogate.
“Out,” he replies. I cross my arms and lean against the doorframe.
“Seriously?” I cock my head to the side, anger building in my chest. It hurts that he doesn’t talk to me anymore. I’m furious that I’ve become that girlfriend who has to question her man every time she sees him because she knows he’s hiding something from her. I’m not sure I can do this shit anymore.
He pulls his head off the pillow and pins me with a glare.
“I said I was fucking out. Now let it be,” he snaps. I jump with his outburst. Who does he think he’s talking to? I lean down and grab one of my heels and throw it at his head, hitting it spot-on.
“What the fuck?!” He shoots up off the bed, his body puffed out with rage. I don’t back down; he doesn’t scare me. If anything, it turns me on. My mind drifts with sexual need, but the glare in his eyes reminds me to stand my ground.
“Where the fuck were you?” I question again. He steps up to me and fists my hair roughly. My heart skips a beat; this is not Lip. This is a man I’ve never seen before. The muscles in his arm flex and dance as he pulls my head back, our eyes locking. My thirst for sex wins, and I mewl in response. I can’t help my arousal from the dominant anger radiating off him. This side of Lip has never shown before, it’s unfamiliar and a turn on I didn’t expect. His eyes widen when he notices my excitement from his roughness.
“I was at my mom’s most of yesterday, and then I stayed at the club last night ‘cause I didn’t get back till really late. Now chill the fuck out,” he mutters. He leans down and smashes his lips to mine, his cold lip ring against my warm lips causing a shiver to race up my limbs. I sway into him, wanting him to grab me and throw me over the bed. It’s been weeks since he’s had sex with me, but it was so distant, I might as well have been fucking my vibrator. I’m so worked up with sexual tension I can barely think straight. He pulls back and my body sags with sorrow.
“Where are you off to this morning?” he questions, crawling back into bed. I bite my bottom lip.
“Um, I’m thinking about trying some yoga. Going to go check that out,” I lie. I’m going to see Piper. I hate lying to him, but I have no choice. He can’t know about Piper, not yet.
“Fuck that,” he grumbles into the comforter.
I grab some flip-flops and high-tail it out of there before he questions me any further.
***
Sitting outside of the trailer park waiting for Piper, I see a couple walking out of a trailer holding hands. The tall blonde releases her partner’s hand and he grabs it again, pulling her into a big kiss. I watch them, watch the love and life surrounding them without a care in the world. That was Lip and me years ago.
A knock sounds on my car window making me jump. Piper. I smile and climb out of the car. I look over to where the couple was and notice them gone.
“Can you help me with my hair?” I slowly trail my eyes from the trailer to Piper and notice her hair is a tangled mess. I try and slide my fingers through her red locks, but they get caught instantly. Her hair is dry and rough.
“What happened?” I question, trying to untangle the mess.
“My dad forgot to pick up shampoo, so he told me to use the dish soap,” she replies softly.
My eyes widen. What the actual fuck?
“Dish soap?” I ask, making sure I heard her right.
“Yeah,” she huffs. That explains why it’s so dry and tangled.
“Hang on a minute.” I get in my car and dig out my keratin spray and brush. I spray her hair and brush it over and over before it finally falls into silky waves.
“You know, Cherry, we have the same color hair,” Piper observes. My eyes widen, and my hand stops mid-brush.
“Yeah. Yeah, we do,” I reply softly. The yellow school bus pulls up, the brakes squeaking as it comes to a full stop. Thankful for its arrival, I lean down and give Piper a big kiss on the head, taking in the smell of her.
“You have a good day, Piper,” I whisper into her hair.
“See you tomorrow?” She tilts her head back and looks up at me. Her eyes are the same color as mine.
“Yeah. I’ll be here,” I mumble.
LIP
“First order of business. The drop went smoothly, but the drugs seemed to be of low quality,” Bull announces, lighting a cigarette.
“Should we find a different supplier?” Tom Cat asks. He slides his hands back and forth through his hair and looks around the table for a reply.
“This will do for now, but yes, we need someone who isn’t growing weed out of their ditch,” Bull replies, blowing cigarette smoke into the air.
“Kids today can’t be happy with what they get,” Hawk grumbles from the back of the table. He rubs at his white mustache that matches his old-ass hair. He’s older than dirt and pretty much just says what he’s thinking, whether or not it makes sense. I just nod and agree with him half the time, because I never know what the fuck he’s talking about.
I could tell the club about my brother and their club in Vegas, but I’m not sure if it’s something I want to get wrapped up in. I don’t think it’s a good idea. People could get hurt, and I would be to blame for introducing them.
“Tonight, we’re having a party. Got some girls coming from the Wicked Birds, and The Ghost Riders are going to be here. It should be a fun night,” Bull informs, slamming his cigarette into the ashtray. Wicked Birds is a strip club we take profit in, a cover for our illegal expenses. My uncle on my mother’s side runs the place. He’s a tool, but safe. He wouldn’t fuck us; in fact, he hated my father when my mother introduced them.
“Why are we having the Ghost Riders here?” Shadow questions. Bull sighs and lowers his head.
“Because, they are a big club. Their president has connections with some men from the Cartel, and I want those connections,” Bull explains. “Maybe they can replace our skunk weed dealer we got.”
The Ghost Riders are disloyal. I’ve seen them turn against their own, and rumor has it they have no rules in their club. They are rapists, murders, all of it. But Bull’s right; given their dubious rep, they have respect and connections with every outlaw organization you can think of. Getting them on our good side would benefit the club.
Bull slams the gavel down, dismissing everyone.
CHERRY
I stir my cup with my straw and wait for Dani to show up. She’s an ol’ lady I have grown to love over the years. She is the president’s daughter and one of my best friends. She met Shadow, fell deeply in love with him and got married. I hate her sometimes. She has the perfect life. Sexy, caring husband. Two adorable children. Big house. Loving father. All that’s missing is the pink corvette.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. Did you already order?” She sits down on the opposite side of the table and tosses her dark hair over her shoulder. You can’t even tell she’s had two kids, she barely gained over ten lbs the whole time she carried Shadow’s children.
“I did, I got us burgers,” I inform.
“Sounds good.” She pins me with her vibrant green eyes and smiles. “How have you been?”
I shrug. I always tell her I’m doing great and that Lip is amazing, but it’s always a lie. I mean, how do you tell someone who has the perfect everything that your life is falling apart?
“Are you okay, Cherry?” She pulls her brows together and gives a concerning look. I want to lie like usual, but I need someone to talk to, someone to tell me what the hell to do. I close my eyes and look down at my glass of Coke. I’m always the one giving love advice. Hell, life advice. Yet here I am at the end of my rope.
“No, I’m not okay. In fact, I haven’t been okay for a while.” I sit back in my seat, and cross my arms.
“What happened, what’s wrong?” The waiter sets our plates down on our table and asks if we’d like anything else. Dani shoos him away.
“Lip.” I shrug, the smell of the burgers consuming my thoughts.
“What about him?”
“He’s just different. I noticed the changes while visiting him in prison. I didn’t think anything of it, because I thought being locked up he was just depressed or something. When he got out of prison, it was worse, and I thought it would go away, but it’s not.” I shove my plate away, not hungry anymore.
“What do you mean by different?”
“I dunno, like he’s hiding something from me. He has this look of darkness I can’t explain. There’s tension between us that was never there before.” I sit up in my seat and blow out an irritated breath. “You know we’ve only had sex three times since he was released a month ago. is something so nasty and dark sitting between us it’s like there isn’t any room for anything else.”
“Damn, Cherry, I didn’t know.”
“There are times he doesn’t come home for a couple nights in a row,” I mutter.
“You think he’s cheatin’? ‘Cause we will go key his bike right fucking now!” Dani threatens. I can’t help but laugh. Sounds like something I would normally offer someone. I’ve rubbed off on her well.
“I don’t know if he’s cheating. But if he is, I will chop his fucking nuts off.”
“You know the club is having a party this Friday.” Dani lifts a brow.
“Really? Maybe I should give an unexpected visit.”
“Maybe.” Dani smiles wickedly.