| |
I’m normally a pragmatic person who rarely expects anything good to happen. I only want a basic level of comfort. So, when my life takes a tumble into a pile of manure, I tend to shrug off the experience. Why wouldn’t I end up miserable? No one in my family is lucky. Aunt Immee has enjoyed an easier life than most of us, but she’s only special as long as she remains married to Clive. The minute he gets bored of her aging face, she’ll be as unremarkable as all the Hobbs women.
But I let myself hope when I thought about Lowell Sinema. Mom built him up as a strong, smart man with the ear of Elko’s most powerful person. Lowell seemed like Clive but without the evil shit. I wanted to believe a part of me was a Sinema.
Except I’m a Hobbs, through and through. We’re not lucky people. Admittedly, I’m better off than my mother and aunt were, and they are happier than their parents. The Hobbs women are slowly crawling our way up the evolutionary chain. Once we were mud people unable to hold down jobs or express love for the mutts we shit into the world. Now, we’re more like dumpster babies with the good looks to fuck our way into a stable home. If I have a kid, I wonder if he’ll go to college. How far can a Hobbs truly get in life?
Despite starting over fresh in Elko, I’m still a loser. That’s why I chickened out when I arrived here. And why I took the bunny job. After all, fucking men in my father’s club would be a great way to make a positive impression. When I finally admitted why I’m in Elko, my courage didn’t come from righteousness. No, I was pissed and embarrassed.
I made all the wrong decisions. Just like how I could have run away from Minton back when no one would have cared, but I waited until I’d get hunted down. I can’t do anything right. It’s just how I’m wired.
And that’s why I assume I’ll ruin things with Conor before they even get started. I told him the truth about my dumb plan to “baby mama” my way into a better life. Conor must think I’m a loser.
Not that I can read him well. I don’t think anyone does, really. Conor Jessup is usually a blank slate. Even when he smiles, I feel as if he’s holding back or working a con. He doesn’t let people close. I admire his ability to protect himself. If we had a kid together, I bet our boy would go to college and might even get a respectable job with one of those 401k things. That’s what I want for my spawn—a boring life devoid of danger or self-inflicted suffering.
“You don’t have to walk me inside,” I tell Conor despite knowing he’ll do what he wants.
“I ought to make sure you’re safe,” he says and takes my hand. “I’m a nice guy with good intentions.”
I hear the sarcasm in his words, but I don’t get their meaning. Conor is a nice guy. If he hadn’t decided he wanted to slip his dick in me first, I’d have been passed around by now.
Not that I was wholly against that part. Sex is fun, and even the older guys have qualities I can admire. But what happened if Lowell ever made a pass at me? No doubt, I’d puke in his face while crying out how he’s my daddy and needs to save me. Basically, without Conor calling dibs, I would have turned a train wreck into an apocalypse-level clusterfuck.
After typing in the security code, we enter the black-and-gray contemporary-style lobby. I tighten my grip on Conor’s hand. My heart demands to focus on something positive. Instead, my mind replays how grossed out Lowell looked by the very thought that he helped create the trash heap in front of him.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit to Conor in the elevator as we head to the second floor. “I came to Elko to meet Lowell, and I messed that up. Staying feels like a mistake.”
“You’re safe here.”
“No, not really,” I admit. “I have ties to this place. Sooner or later, the people looking for me will show up here. I’d be safer somewhere else. I should leave before trouble arrives in Elko.”
Conor leans his head back and sighs. “All sound logic, but I can’t leave with you yet.”
“Why would you ever leave?”
Leveling his green eyes at me, Conor says without a hint of sarcasm, “I’m a complicated man juggling many plans and just as many lies. I haven’t gotten around to dropping any of them yet. When I do, we can bail on Elko. Just not yet.”
“But you don’t even know me.”
“And you don’t know me. But if you had to choose any man to run off with, you’d pick me.”
“Yeah, because you’re one of the only single men in the club and the hottest. It’s really not rocket science.”
Conor shakes his head. “You had a rough night, and you’re scared of your past showing up. That’s why you can’t see what I do. Which is okay. I’ll keep an eye on our future while you get your heart mended.”
I don’t respond because the doors open, and I spot Amity hurrying toward me. The brunette had the night off, meaning she’s running around the building in sleep shorts and an oversized man’s shirt. No doubt, she was apartment hopping before Conor’s motorcycle alerted the bunnies to my arrival. Oh, they’ll definitely want the dish.
Rather than walk to the elevator, Amity lingers near our door, waiting for me to finish up. I suspect she realizes Conor isn’t staying. Or maybe she plans to hang out at a different apartment if ours is a-rocking.
“Conor, thank you for driving me home and all the other more important stuff,” I say, enjoying the feel of his hand around mine. “I don’t know when the blood test will happen tomorrow. If you’re not busy, maybe we could go out for a sandwich. I’ll pay, of course.”
I know I sound stupid. Then, as if to prove that point, Conor leans his head back and sighs deeply.
“Finally,” he mutters as his foot holds open the elevator doors. “You finally get why I haven’t asked you out.” Conor holds my gaze and smiles softly. “I’m just really cheap. But now that you’re paying, I’m all in.”
Grinning, despite his ribbing, I feel heat slide across my cheeks. “I was trying to be gracious.”
“I know, but you’re not trash, Monroe,” he says in the same easy way he teased me earlier, making him impossible to read. “You need to demand more from Lowell and me. Everyone, really.”
“Fine, then, you can pay for our sandwiches.”
Conor’s grin widens. “Have the girls taken you to Harvie’s Sub Shop?” he asks, and I shake my head. “Lots of decadent choices. Loaded with meat. Great stuff if you’re looking to ruin your cholesterol.”
“Sounds like an average meal from where I grew up.”
Conor’s gaze flashes to Amity pretending to be casual down the hallway. He finally releases my hand.
“I’ll text you in the morning with the details on the test and our meal out.”
Nodding, I back out of the elevator. He removes his foot, allowing the doors to shut on the sexiest man alive. I turn immediately and rush to Amity.
“I knew it,” she whispers loudly while bouncing around as if she saved up all her crazy for this exact moment. “I mean, no offense to Lowell, but there was no way you hot for him over Conor. That’s just not remotely possible in any universe.”
I run my RFID key fob in front of the reader, and our door unlocks. Soon, we’re inside the glamorous two-bedroom apartment. I hang my purse on the black coat stand in the corner while Amity keeps smiling at me.
“I see it,” she says after we sit on the pale beige couch. “Your eyes.”
“They’re brown. So are Bronco’s and Akron’s. I bet a lot of guys have brown eyes.”
“No, but Lowell’s brown eyes have gold flecks in them. Bronco’s don’t. Neither do Akron’s. Trust me. I’ve gotten up close and personal with them. Well, some more than others.”
“Even Conor?”
“Of course,” she says, holding my hand and checking my recently painted nails. “Should I apologize?”
“No. I never see him act sexually with anyone.”
“He’s been very well behaved since you arrived, but he wasn’t celibate before. Want me to tell you how he is in bed?” she asks, with a devious light to her blue eyes.
“No. I’d rather it be a shocking surprise.”
Amity smiles softly. “Topanga slapped you,” she says, caressing my cheek.
When I first moved in with Amity, I hadn’t known what to make of how affectionate she was to me. I’d never had anyone touch me like she did without expecting to fuck. Jena explained Amity grew up without boundaries. Suffering a childhood without owning her body definitely explains why Amity often cries at night.
“I wish I did everything differently,” I share with a girl I barely know yet am already attached to. “But I messed up when I first got here, and I never knew how to fix it. Like could I just walk up to Lowell and admit what my mom said? Or should I go to his house so it’d be more private? In the end, Lowell wouldn’t have been happy no matter how it went down.”
“Lowell doesn’t like people to notice him,” Amity explains while still holding my hand. “Bronco steals all the attention. Then, Anders arrived, and he’s gigantic. While people see the boss and the titan, Lowell hides in the background, keeping score. Also, his old lady draws all the attention away from him normally. Tonight, he probably felt on display.”
“I can’t blame him for being upset.”
Stroking my hand, Amity shrugs. “He’s the one with the power. Seems like he might be in a better position to be the better person.”
I smile and admit, “I used to imagine him hugging me when he found out. Like he was upset over missing out by not knowing me.”
“How come your mom never told him?” Amity asks as her blue eyes study my face as if once again memorizing every feature.
“Needy told another bunny that she was pregnant. Nothing about who the baby’s dad might be. That girl ran to one of the old ladies who threatened Mom. Also, Needy heard about another girl who got pregnant and was disappeared by the club. She decided not to stick around and push her luck.”
Amity studies the black coffee table as if she’s looking for clues. “I heard that story, too. Messy Bessie was a slob with big tits who hooked up with the club when they were first founded. I’ve heard versions where she was Rooster’s favorite and others where she was Akron’s. When she got pregnant, she thought the baby daddy would protect her. In some versions, the old ladies killed Bessie, and the men didn’t know. In others, the Executioners killed Bessie,” she explains and then adds, “Who would have threatened Needy? This was before Topanga. Lowell never had any other wives, so the old lady wasn’t his.”
“I don’t know. My mom kept her secrets,” I say, sounding too defensive. “Her parents beat the crap out of her. She ran from problems and threats. I mean, that wasn’t dumb, right? You’re not supposed to stick around when there’s trouble. So, when the old ladies threatened her, she got scared and ran away. I bet she planned to come back when I was born, but things get complicated. Like returning with a baby to a place where she no longer belonged probably seemed dangerous.”
Amity presses my hand against her cheek. “If I got pregnant, I’d be scared. I know that Bronco raised his daughters, and he didn’t punish their mothers. But there’s a lot of pressure not to be a drain on the club. And Bronco was also single when he knocked up those bunnies and then Lana. On an average day, I’m more scared of the old ladies than the club guys. So, I understand why your mom left. And why you were scared to speak up. People lash out without thinking. And these aren’t regular people. They can disappear troublemakers.”
Amity sets my hand on my lap and then strokes my head. “And it’s not like we can complain. We aren’t here to whine. We exist to party and be fun. In exchange, we get a nice apartment rent-free and good-paying jobs. Like I waitressed before starting here, and I never made what I do at Rooster’s. So, I’m not complaining.”
Amity’s troubled expression bothers me. She thinks I might rat her out. My rutting nature insists I make nice with those around me. I can do what I’m told as long as no one fucks with me too much. In every situation, I try to adjust to my surroundings.
And in my new life, Amity is my closest friend. Not only because we share an apartment. I like how silly she gets when stoned and the way she always asks if I need anything when she goes to the kitchen. Some of the girls find her clingy, but Amity charmed me quickly. That’s why I reassure her by cuddling closer.
“I like it in Elko. Living here with you and waitressing, it’s comfortable. I probably wouldn’t have said anything for months if Topanga hadn’t forced the issue.”
Reassured that I’m not bothered by her earlier warning about the club’s rules, she relaxes again.
“I worry about when I get too old,” Amity shares. “I’m not smart like Jena. I can’t be anyone’s assistant or manage stuff. Besides, she’s already doing that job. What happens to me once my time as a bunny is up? Other girls get married. A few ended up as honeys. I’m just going to end up alone. I can’t even get a cat because I’m allergic.”
I don’t know why Amity is dumping all this on me right now. She’s normally upbeat. That’s why her nighttime sobbing moments initially startled me. She’s a sweet background girl who gets along with people but never makes a strong impression.
“You won’t be alone because you’re beautiful,” I say, not really thinking of a good answer. “Beautiful women have more options.”
“But I’ll be old.”
“How old?”
“Thirty.”
“That’s not old for normal people. For bunnies and strippers and shit, sure, but normal people aren’t old at thirty. You’ll have money saved up, and you’ll find a guy who thinks you’re hot. Then, you won’t be alone. And maybe you can get a bird or a dog or something.”
Amity grins, making her freckled nose crinkle. “Even if Lowell isn’t happy, Conor was holding your hand in the elevator. I’ve never seen him act like that with a girl. You know, like he’s dating. He knows you’re special even if Lowell doesn’t.”
Her words hit me in just the right spot. Smiling like a fool, I say, “Conor and I are going out to lunch tomorrow. Or maybe dinner. I just know we’re getting sandwiches.”
Amity’s expression shifts so radically that I flinch at the switch. “His mom is nuts. Not just wacky, but really crazy. It runs in the Parrish family. That’s what killed Conor’s grandmother. She thought someone was chasing her, so she started driving wildly to get away. The poor thing slammed into a tree or wall or something. But no one was even chasing her. Barbie isn’t that bad, but Conor is always making sure she’s okay. I see him at club functions, keeping an eye on her. Almost like he’s the parent, not her. It’s really sweet.”
Despite smiling at the thought of Conor’s protective nature, I wonder if his mother is the real reason he’s drawn to me. Is train wreck the only kind of love he knows?
