Chapter 3

Lawson

“Dinner is in forty-five minutes,” Jaxon says as he steps away from the bunk bed where my brother is acting like Oliver Twist who’s climbed into a real bed for the first time.

Way to keep things close to your chest there, Drew.

“Not hungry,” I mutter before he reaches the door. I pray my stomach doesn’t growl in protest to my lie.

“Kitchen’s always open if you get hungry later tonight,” he offers, unlike the asshole I made him out to be. Leaning in close and focusing on me after checking to see if Drew’s attention is on us. He gets closer than he ever has before. “I’ll give you anything you need, money, opportunities, a real chance at life, but don’t hurt my family.”

My jaw clenches to the point of pain, but I keep my focus across the room.

“That includes my daughter.”

Now he has my attention. He read me like an open book, or he saw my cock thicken in my jeans when she reached up and shook Drew’s hand. I nearly groan for the second time at the memory.

The door snaps shut before I realize he left.

“They don’t want us here,” I tell my ecstatic brother as he reaches his hands up to see if he can touch the ceiling while lying flat on his back.

“They seem shocked, but I never got that vibe from them,” he counters.

“You wouldn’t,” I mutter sliding the strap of my duffel off of my shoulder. “You were too busy jizzing in your pants over a goddamned bunk bed.”

He chuckles, used to my brashness. “Wait until you lay down, asshole. These mattresses are perfect.”

“Language,” I warn.

He huffs but doesn’t respond. My mother’s stubbornness runs through my blood like a living thing. It’s the exact reason I choose to sit in the rolling chair in front of the desk on the far side of the room.

Movement outside of the window catches my eye, and the sight of long, golden legs peeking out from the steps leading up to the house next door makes me smile and reminds me of the slew of hot chicks who were in the main building when we’d first arrived.

Maybe living here surrounded by hot chicks won’t be so bad.

I shake my head, clearing that thought. I have no desire to spend more than the minimal time needed on this property. I have to get Drew settled, make sure that he’ll be safe and they won’t just shove him off into the system, and then I’m out of here. The fact that these two men adopted twins helps settle my nerves somehow. Anyone taking the step to welcome non-biological children into their home is an act of compassion many people wouldn’t consider.

Drew’s slow and steady breathing tells me just how exhausted the kid is. We’ve been traveling for several days. Add in the emotional stress of losing our mother less than a month ago, and it’s no wonder he can fall asleep only minutes after invading some stranger’s home.

Dark hair and dark eyes clear the front edge of the porch’s roof. The girl sitting there meets my gaze as if she either feels me watching her or she knew exactly where we’d be in this house. I don’t turn my head after getting caught. Instead, I smirk at her. Her head dips back, out of view, but less than a minute later, she’s wiping lotion or tanning oil down her legs. The motion isn’t economical in the least. Her attempt at a sensual rub down makes my eyebrow quirk and my dick jump more from underuse than attraction.

Note to self: avoid the brunette.

Aggressive women aren’t my style at all. The last thing I need is a girl trying to take control of any situation we’re tossed into together. It’s the thrill of the chase that gets my blood pumping, the prospect that I’m convincing an otherwise uninterested party to act a certain way.

I have a feeling that the toy I want to play with most is somewhere in this house. The girl on the porch, performing for some guy she doesn’t even know, doesn’t hold a candle to the fun I’ll have with Delilah.

***

“Hey.”

I spent several long minutes looking at Drew sleeping peacefully before waking him. He’s the picture of innocence, long dark lashes resting against his cheeks and a slight pucker to his lips. I know different though. This kid has seen more, been forced to endure more heartache than anyone ever should. My only goal in life is to protect him.

He draws in a long breath, stretching his muscles out on the bed. “I told you this bed was awesome.”

“You need to go down and eat,” I tell him.

“Awesome,” he says climbing off of the bed. “I’m fucking starving.”

“Seriously, Drew?” I narrow my eyes at him. “You need to watch your mouth. These don’t seem like the type of people who are going to tolerate that language from a fifteen-year-old.”

He nods, both in understanding and not wanting anything to ruin his chance to sleep in a soft bed rather than a worn out mattress on the floor. The last month has been tough on both of us. Hitchhiking across several states before some sad fucker felt bad enough to give us the money for bus tickets took a lot out of us.

He pauses at the door, looking over his shoulder at me sitting back in the desk chair. “Aren’t you coming?”

I shake my head. “Not hungry.”

I can tell by the look on his face that he doesn’t believe the lie, but he just nods and closes the door behind him when he leaves.

“Drew,” I call out a second later.

I spring up from the chair and pull the door open. Both my brother and Delilah are in the hall walking toward the stairs.

“Drew,” I say again.

“What’s up?” he asks as he turns back to me.

Delilah stops, turning her nosey ass attention to us. “Can I help you with something, Princess?”

Her nose shrivels as she looks at me with disgust, but she takes the hint and disappears down the hall.

“What, Law? I’m hungry.”

“Don’t tell them anything,” I instruct. “Don’t give them details about our life. Hell, tell them we came from Utah or something. Feed them anything but the truth.”

He frowns. “You want me to lie to your dad?”

“He’s not my fucking dad. He’s merely a sperm donor who treated Mom like shit.”

“Fine,” he mutters and walks away again without a backward glance.

I wait, annoyed by the laughter that’s flowing up the stairs, for Drew to return to the room. Boredom sets in, and the girl next door is no longer on her porch, but the pull isn’t strong enough to get me to leave this room to join the happy little family.

Fifteen minutes after I give up looking at random shit on the internet with my phone, Drew comes back up to the room with a grin on his face. I hate that it falls when he steps through the door.

“What’s up?” he asks looking at my phone with apprehension. “Are we leaving?”

We haven’t stayed anywhere very long for a while.

“Not just yet,” I answer. “Happen to get the Wi-Fi password?”

He shuffles on his feet. “I did, but Samson keyed it into my phone, so I don’t know what it is.”

I slide my phone back into my pocket.

“I can go back down and get it for you,” he offers.

“No thanks,” I grumble and sit further back in the desk chair with my arms crossed over my chest. “Sounds like you were having a good time down there.”

“I won’t next time if you don’t want me to.”

I’m an asshole.

“It’s fine.” I want to ask him what they were doing, but I just can’t bring myself to, and now that I mentioned it, Drew will avoid telling me anything.

A yawn escapes his mouth before he has time to react and cover his mouth. “I’m so tired.”

“You should go to bed,” I say without inflection. “I’ll keep first watch.”

He shakes his head but climbs the stairs on the bunk bed anyway. “I think we can both sleep at the same time, dude. I don’t think they’re going to bother us.”

“What have I always told you?”

“Safety is an illusion, and it’s not worth the risk,” he mutters before kicking his sneakers over the side of the bed.

Rolling my eyes, I scoop them up and place them under the edge of the bed, all the way to the left just like always. It’s just part of the routine, in case we have to get out fast.

“I don’t mind staying up with you,” he says, sleepiness already clouding his voice.

“I got it.” I turn off the bedroom light and sit back down in the chair. “Get some rest.”

Soft snores fill the room mere minutes later. I force away the possibility of making a life in New Mexico. The last thing I need is to be in the shadow of a couple of washed-up bikers.

From the darkness of the room, it’s easy to look out over the perfect stone-faced homes. Four homes make a semi-circle behind the building we first came into earlier today. Perfect, but not cookie cutter, each one having its own personality to fit the occupants. They’re bigger, nicer, more substantial than any home I’ve ever been inside of before.

I shudder thinking about the last time I was in a house this nice. I wasn’t in it long before streaks of red and blue lights filtered through expensive, sheer curtains. I feel as unwanted in this house as I did in that one.