Harlow

 

 

It’s one in the morning. It’s Friday. And the club is silent.

That’s messed up.

It felt weird ushering out a crowd of paying customers, but Bear’s orders are law. The Black Hawks are swarming around town tonight and we need to lock our shit down to stay safe. Even the trailer feels too vulnerable. Devo and I have taken up inside the club with everyone else, bunking down in the extra bedroom. The one Josh slept in after I took him to the hospital. After he kissed me in the parking lot.

Two months later and I’m still thinking about that kiss. I dream about it, in vivid color with extended scenes. Hot, sweat soaked scenes that always end in the bed of the truck with Josh between my legs and his hands wrapped in my hair. I’ve woken up groping Devo twice. We had sex both times and each time I kept my eyes closed. I carefully kept my fantasies at bay because I won’t betray him like that. Either of them. I won’t imagine Josh while I’m with Devo and I sure as hell won’t use Devo as a substitute for Josh.

But are the fantasies betrayal enough? Am I already cheating on Devo by imagining myself with someone else?

I don’t know if Devo and I can cheat on each other at this point. He sleeps with other women all the time and I don’t give two shits about it. Basically, we have an open relationship. At least, the door is open on his end. He can go out and fuck whoever he wants while barely bothering to hide it, but if I did the same, if I slept with Josh again and he found out, it’d be a nightmare. He’d lose his shit on both of us.

It’s a double standard inside the club life that I never minded before because it didn’t matter to me; I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else. Not really. But ever since Josh came crashing back into my life, it bugs the hell out of me. It’s not fair. It’s not right. It keeps me up at night, tossing and turning. Fuming.

I sit up in bed, feeling frustrated. Devo’s lucky. He can sleep anywhere at any time. He’s passed out cold now, hogging over half the bed with his long arms and legs sprawled in every direction, like a big starfish. I pull the blanket up over him as I leave the bed, heading for the kitchen. I need a drink. Something to take the edge off and send me to sleep. Anything to quiet the unease in my limbs.

I step carefully out of the warm room into the cold hallway, pulling the door silently closed behind me.

“What are you doing up?”

I stifle a scream, covering my mouth and doubling over to keep it inside. I look up to glare at Hyde on guard at the end of the hallway. He’s parked in a folding chair, a long rifle in his lap. His eyes tracking me in the dark.

“You scared me half to death, you dick,” I whisper vehemently.

“Sorry,” he apologizes blandly.

“For fuck’s sake.”

“Can’t sleep?”

I stand up straight, waiting for my heart to stop racing in my chest. “No. I can’t. I need a drink. Now I might need a sedative.”

“You wanna grab me one while you’re up?”

“A drink or drugs?”

“Drink.”

“What do you want?”

“Balls or Red Bull. Something to help me stay awake.”

“You got it,” I mumble, turning my back on him. Wishing I could punch him in the dick.

“Hey, Harley,” he calls quietly after me. “Heads up. Strat’s in the kitchen. He’s keeping an eye on the backlot.”

My heart is instantly racing again, running for reasons new and old.

“Why do I care?” I ask flippantly.

Hyde shrugs. “Figured you wouldn’t want to be surprised again.”

“Right. Thanks.”

I move slowly toward the kitchen, wondering if I can avoid it. I spend each step trying to come up with an excuse to turn around and head back to bed. Back to Devo. But I already promised Hyde I’d get him a drink and it’d look weird if I backtracked on that now.

The kitchen is dark when I get inside. The only light comes from the moon spilling in through the big window at the back. The large, industrial appliances shine faintly, giving the small room a cold glow that dissolves against my feverish hot skin. I feel like I’m sunburned. Like all of the heat in my body is rising to the surface, burning me alive.

I find the source of the inferno in the corner at the table. Josh is parked there with a mug of steaming something and a matte black handgun in front of him. He’s wearing jeans. No shoes. No shirt. A long chain with a small silver key dangles around his neck, against his chest. His body is beautiful; artfully molded in rolling mounds of muscle and soft skin peppered with coarse hair and intricate tattoos. I’m so used to the guys being covered in them, Josh looks almost innocent with only a few. Younger somehow, like an untouched canvas I want to finger-paint on. I want to scrawl my name across his back, over his broad shoulders, claiming him as mine, all mine.

He turns to look at me, his face kept neutral. “You’re awake.”

“I couldn’t sleep. I’m not used to being in the club.”

“You don’t sleep well in unfamiliar places.”

“Every little sound wakes me up.”

“I remember.”

Of course he does.

I nod to the window, taking a few steps inside the room. “Is it quiet out there?”

“Silent as the grave. I don’t think they’re coming back tonight.”

“Are you worried about going home?”

“Not if they’re gone.”

“But what if they’re not?”

He shrugs his shoulders, not worried. “Then I’ll be in for a fight.”

“You say it like it’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t feel like anything because it hasn’t happened yet. It might never happen, so why worry about it?”

“Are you high?” I chuckle despite myself.

Josh grins. “No. Why?”

“You’re very Zen right now.”

“It’s exhaustion, not drugs.” He sits back in his chair, stretching his arms up over his head. I can see the shadowy contours of his stomach, ridged to deeply defined perfection.

I take another step closer. “You should get some sleep. I could take your post.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You’re not a Due, Josh. You don’t have to do this.”

He scowls, unhappy with my assessment. “They’ve had my back for the last two months. Why wouldn’t I have theirs?”

“Because you pay them to watch out for you.”

He shakes his head, looking away. Out the window. “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“I’m going to join them.”

I go from burning alive to ice cold in the blink of an eye. I wrap my arms around my body to suppress the shiver that runs through me. “What are you talking about?”

“The Black Hawks probably think I’m a Prospect.”

“Yeah, so what? They also think they can tell the Due what to do on their own turf. It doesn’t make them right.”

“I want to join, Harlow,” he tells me firmly, leaving no room for debate. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. It makes sense.”

“No, it doesn’t.” I stand in front of him, towering over him. Demanding his attention. “It doesn’t make any damn sense. Why is it every time I turn my back, you’re sinking deeper and deeper into the club?”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘sinking’.”

“You know what I mean. This isn’t your life, Josh. What about MIT?”

“I’m not going.”

“Since when?”

“Since I decided it’s not worth it. I have a scholarship for tuition but not housing. Not food. And I won’t have any income. I’ll need to get a minimum wage, part-time job to try to survive, and, yeah, maybe I can do it, but what about the house? What about Pops? If I’m not dealing, I can’t pay for any of that anymore.”

“I’ll help you. I’ll take care of Pops.”

“It’s not just about Pops and the money. It’s about me. About who I am.” He spreads his hands over the top of his textbook. “I’m a dealer, Harlow. I’m a criminal and I’m good with that. I like dealing way more than I like doing homework. And with the Due, for the first time in my life, I feel like I fit. Like they get me because they’re like me. I don’t wanna lose that.”

“But what if you get to MIT and find out all those computer geeks are like you too. There’s more to you than just dealing.”

“That’s the beauty of geeks,” he smirks. “They’re easier to find on the internet than in real life. I can connect with other hackers online.”

“Hackers?”

“The only thing I like about computer science and programming and all the mundane bullshit that goes with it, is that it’s taught me how to hack. They’re teaching me to build systems and networks, but by learning to build them up I’m also learning to break them down. I know how they work so I know how to crack them. There’s no nine-to-five job where that’s going to be useful. I can’t put ‘I love hacking’ on a resume. Not with anyone but The Devil’s Due.”

Josh stands gracefully, his big body closing in on me. Eclipsing the light behind him and trapping me in the hard contours of his shadow.

“Besides,” he says quietly, his voice dipping low. So low I feel it in my knees that weaken as he advances on me. “There’s nothing I want at MIT more than what’s right here in front of me right now.”

I close my eyes, pinching my lips together tightly. “Don’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Devo.”

I feel him step closer. I feel the shadow grow deeper, weighing heavier on me. “Stop using him as an excuse.”

“He’s not an excuse.”

“He’s your favorite excuse. You used him three years ago and you’re using him now.”

I open my eyes to glare up at him defiantly. “You’re nuts. You can’t stay here. I don’t want you here.”

“You’re lying to me again,” he growls, his eyes going hard with frustration. “You never used to lie to me. Don’t do it again.”

“Or what? What will you do?”

“Stay or go. What do you want me to do?”

“Go,” I snap. “I want you gone.”

Josh breathes out hard through his nose, like a bull about to charge.

“Little fucking liar,” he whispers viciously.

He destroys the meager distance between us. His mouth finds mine, his hands find my hips, and when he jerks my body against his, the hard contour of his desire finds the softening center of my body. I moan into his mouth, unable to keep quiet. The fire on my skin is back, burning under his hands, against his body, and as his tongue touches mine, I feel myself ignite in a blinding flash of want.

This is the feeling Josh gives me. This buzzing in my blood that feels like boiling. The hum at the center of the universe that keeps the stars in the sky and the oceans alive. This feeling like I’m everything. Every broken, beautiful thing he’s ever wanted.

He lifts me up to push me back onto the table. I feel his gun brush against my ass. His mug tumbles, sending the rich scent of coffee into the air and warm liquid dripping to the ground. It doesn’t stop him. Nothing could. He’s a man possessed as he kisses me passionately, exploring every inch of my mouth with his tongue.

“Say you want me, Harlow,” he demands desperately. “Say you fucking want this as much as I do.”

I close my eyes tight, trying to clear my head. He doesn’t give me a chance. He doesn’t allow a breath without taking it for his own. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Don’t, Josh. Please.”

“You want me to stop?”

“Stop talking.”

“Do you want me to stop touching you?” His hands rise up my sides. “Do you want me to leave?” He grips my breasts through the thin fabric of my flannel shirt. “Do you want me to walk out that door right now and never come back?”

“No.”

“Then what the fuck do you want, Harlow?”

I put my arms around his waist, reaching around until I can feel his ass in my palms. I pull him closer, harder against me where I want him the most, looking up at him with open, pleading eyes.

“I want you to kiss me,” I whisper tremulously.

Josh pulls at my shirt until the buttons come undone. I’m exposed to the cold air and the hot feel of his palms. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him as close as I can as he cups my bare breasts in his hands, squeezing them crudely. It hurts but I love it. I want it. I want every inch of him against me, inside me, and I claw at his bare back trying to get more of him. All of him.

“I’d do anything for you,” he grunts, his lips trailing down my throat. “I’d fucking kill for you, Harlow. I’d die for you.”

“Stop,” I moan. “Stop talking.”

“Not until you admit it.”

I let my head fall back as his lips find my chest. The tops of my breasts. I breathe in a deep sigh of satisfaction as he licks a line along my cleavage, his hands pressing my tits tightly together.

“Say it, baby,” he demands, his breath scalding my skin. “Say you want me. Tell me to stay.”

I want to. I do. I want to scream it as he drives inside me, but I can’t. He can’t. This is a dangerous game we’re playing in a crowded club with Devo sleeping only a few doors down.

I realize just how dangerous when I hear boots in the hallway.

Josh backs away immediately. I jump down from the table, quickly buttoning as many buttons on my shirt as I can before Hyde comes around the corner. I’m breathless as he peeks his head inside the kitchen.

I turn my back to him, hiding the flush on my cheeks. The hardness of my nipples through my shirt.

“What’s the hold up on the drink, huh?” he asks casually, looking around the room.

“I spilled my coffee,” Josh answers evenly, the easiness of his tone impressive considering he was just tongue fucking my tits a second ago. “Harlow was helping me find a rag to clean it up.”

“I didn’t know there was coffee. Harley, grab me a cup, will you?”

I nod quickly. “Yeah, of course. Let me clean this up and I’ll bring one right out.”

“Thanks, honey.”

“Sure thing.”

Hyde’s boots echo down the hall as he heads back to his post. I stand with my palms flat against the table, breathing heavily. Josh watches me closely.

“That can’t happen again,” I hiss. “If he’d seen—”

“He didn’t.”

“If he had, you’d be dead. He’d wake up Devo, they’d all kick your ass, and we’d both be on the street. Is that what you want?”

Josh takes his time answering. He takes so long, I turn to face him, silently demanding an answer.

“No,” he admits. “That’s not what I want.”

“That’s the only way this plays out.”

“Not if you leave him.”

It’s a simple thing to say. An easy solution to this insane problem, but is it really that easy?

Not for me it’s not. This club is my world. My family. It’s the life I’ve made for myself and I’m completely terrified of the idea of starting over.

I may not understand a lot of my emotions, but fear is one I’m very familiar with.

“I won’t leave him,” I tell Josh firmly. “I love him. I’m gonna marry him someday and I’ll have his babies and I’ll be the Club Mother when Angela dies, and nothing is going to change that, so just go. Go to MIT. Go anywhere but here and forget about me so I can forget about you.”

Josh’s eyes are angry. Hurt and burning with something so visceral it stings in the back of my throat. “You’re goddamn lying to me again.”

I throw my arms out in submission. “I wanna fuck you. Is that what you want to hear? I do. I want to fuck you, Josh. You’re hot and you’re good. You’re really, really good, and I’ve been with the same guy for four years, so yeah, I’m tempted by some strange. But when you’re gone, I’ll get over it and so will you. You’ve been pining over me for too long. You’ve got this idea built up in your head of what I am, but I’m not. I’m nothing like the girl you’ve dreamed up so quit with the fucking fairy tale, get real, and get out of town as fast as you can.”

I don’t wait for him to respond. I don’t give him a chance to. He reaches for me as I dart past him, hurrying out of the kitchen as fast as I can go. He’s smart enough not to chase me. He lets me go. For now.

Hyde frowns at me as I hurry down the hall toward him. He watches me open the door to the bedroom, moving to disappear inside.

“Hey,” he whispers loudly. “Where’s my coffee?”

“Get if yourself!”

I shut the door hard in his face. I stand with my back against it, my chest heaving with ragged breathes. My eyes burning with hot tears.