Journey (Soulless Kings MC: Marble Falls, TX #2)

6. Wren

CHAPTER 6

WREN

No fuss, no muss.

Two months later…

“The latest sketches are perfect.”

Rolling my eyes, I tuck my cell between my ear and shoulder as I lock the apartment door. Laura is Wren’s agent, and sometimes I have to take these calls and pretend I’m her. I don’t know if the other alters get stuck doing this shit, but I don’t complain because I don’t have to actually do any work. I’m all fun, all the time.

Take this evening for example… I’m only here because Wren couldn’t cope with the stress piling on her. She’s weak when it comes to matters regarding her childhood, and I step in to make it better.

“Glad to hear it,” I reply, forcing as much sincerity into my tone as possible.

“The author is hoping you can have the final artwork submitted by the end of the month,” Laura says. “Is that doable?”

I pause for a moment, pretending to be checking a schedule before responding. “Yep. I can do that.”

Between Wren and Drew, it shouldn’t be a problem.

“Perfect,” she gushes. “I’ll eagerly wait for the files.”

Laura rambles for a few more minutes, and I pretend to listen. As soon as we end the call, I toss the phone onto the passenger seat of the car and glance into the backseat to make sure it’s not as messy as the last time I used it. I don’t know who keeps driving, but they don’t know how to deal with trash one iota.

It doesn’t take long before I’m parking on a side street near a bar I like to go to on Fridays because that’s when they have their ladies’ night. It’s a perfect storm for finding a casual hookup.

As soon as I step inside, music fills my ears, and I push away all thoughts of anything beyond having a good time.

“Mavis!”

I whirl to my right at the sound of my name and grin when I see Lydia standing at the end of the bar. She and I have shared some crazy nights together, and a repeat performance might be exactly what I need.

Closing the distance between us, I contemplate all the wicked things I’m going to do to her later. When I’m within reach, she grabs the front of my shirt and yanks me in for a kiss. I can taste the cranberry and lime from her Cosmopolitan, and the combination of that and her is delicious.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Lydia says when I break contact. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Here, there, everywhere.”

She laughs at that, and the sound is even more intoxicating than her taste. “Well, I’ve missed you.”

Red flags flash in front of my face like giant hazard warnings. Lydia is amazing, but I don’t do commitment of any kind. I can’t.

“I’m here now,” I say.

She lowers her gaze to my cleavage and runs a finger from my collarbone to between my tits. “Thank God,” she whispers. “The things I wanna do to you…”

“How about we take this to your place?”

She takes a few twenties out of her purse and tosses them onto the bar before wrapping an arm around my shoulders and steering me toward the door. Just as I reach out to push it open, it swings outward, and a large man in jeans and a leather vest blocks my path.

“Wren?”

I try to step around him, but there’s not enough room. “Excuse me.”

“Seriously?” he scoffs. “You’re not even gonna say hi?”

“Why would I?”

“Jesus, Wren, that’s cold.”

“Mavis, who is this guy?” Lydia asks.

“Mavis?” he repeats. “You told me your name was Wren.”

And this is why Peg bitches when I ignore Wren’s private life.

“I’ve never seen you before in my life,” I insist. “Now, if you’ll ex?—”

“Never seen me before?” he says, heat lacing his tone. “The name’s Journey, and you saw every fucking inch of me two months ago. Not to mention, I saw, felt, and tasted every inch of you.”

“Apparently, that was a chick named Wren,” I counter pointedly. “I’m not her. My name is Mavis, and I’m into pussies, not dicks.”

“If what I’m saying isn’t true, then how would I know that you’ve got a birthmark shaped like a horseshoe on your right ass cheek?”

I link my fingers with Lydia’s and push past him. “Fuck off,” I snap as soon as the night air hits my skin.

Journey sputters a retort, but I can’t make out any more than the words ‘bitch’, ‘mental case’, and ‘punked’. Not that it matters what he says. He didn’t look the least bit familiar to me, but he clearly knows Wren.

“Mavis, would you stop?” Lydia says as she comes to a halt when we reach the end of the block.

I face her. “What?”

“What?” she repeats. “ You tell me what . Who was that?”

Shrugging, I force a smile. “Said his name was Journey.”

“Yeah, okay, I heard that, too. But he clearly knows you.” She frowns. “I mean, he knew about your birthmark.”

“C’mon, Lydia,” I prod. “I can’t be the only chick in the world to have a birthmark on her ass cheek.”

Her shoulders slump, and she seems to ponder that line of thinking. She must accept it because she leans forward and nibbles on my bottom lip.

“See, this is what I had in mind,” I tease when she pulls back. “You, me, no clothes, and raging hormones.”

Lydia’s lips tilt into a full-blown smile. “Then let’s go.”

I follow her to her car, knowing she’ll bring me back to mine when the fun is over. That’s our routine. No fuss, no muss.

Four hours and plenty of orgasms later, I’m on my way back to the apartment. By the time I crawl under the covers, I’m fully aware that once tonight becomes common knowledge among the others, it’ll be quite a while before Peg lets me out to play again.