Red (Hell’s Jury MC #5)

8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Red

I can’t believe I’m sittin’ next to the woman who has essentially fucked up my life. And even worse than that, my heart’s thumping again. Stella smells earthy, a combination of soap and sweat, and fuck if that isn’t turning me on.

I think about telling her she can make it up to me by fucking me, but I’m not that guy. Besides, this bullshit day has been long enough. The sun is starting to set, and I’m tired. Even so, I don’t tell her to get out.

“How much do you think it will cost?” she asks.

I lean my head on the back of the couch and stare up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Never had to replace a door.”

“I’ll call a construction company in the morning and ask. My dad probably knows one.”

I roll my head towards her. “Go home. I gotta get some fuckin’ sleep.”

She frowns. “Well you can hardly sleep here with the door unlocked.”

“Who’s gonna fuck with me?” I hold out my big hands to emphasize my point.

She examines me from head to toe. “Well, probably no one. When you’re awake. But when you’re sleeping, someone might sneak up on you.”

“If I can kick in the door, then so can someone else.”

“I couldn’t,” she says, than adds, “Even though I can bench press 170.”

“That all?” I tease.

“Yes,” she replies seriously. “I can do 180, but not enough reps.”

“I was kidding.”

“Oh.”

The silence lingers than she turns and faces me full-on. “Tell you what, you go to sleep and I’ll stay here and take first watch.”

“Holy shit, woman. I’m not gonna let you stay in my house unsupervised!”

“Then I’ll watch from my mom and dad’s house.”

She’s so limber and her hair, already a tangle of curls, is beautifully wild. Her eyes are wide, pleading with me. I need her out of here now. “Go home, Stella. The door is the least of my worries.”

I picture her shifting over and straddling me, wrapping her strong arms around my shoulders, leaning down and kissing me. My dick jerks.

“I have to do something to make this up to you, Lachlan. I want you to forgive me.” Then she fucking touches me. Just my arm, but my hair stands on end like I’ve been tasered.

I jerk to my feet. “Stop fuckin’ touching me.”

She looks at me with puppy dog eyes, a sheen of tears lighting them. “I’m sorry,” she says as she rises to her feet. “I’m really sorry.”

She tries to hustle by me, but I grab her arm. “It’s not what you think.”

“It’s not?” She sounds so young, so fresh.

“I’m feeling you, Stella. And I need a clear head right now. I gotta sort this mess out with Gabby’s mom and case worker. They’re gonna think the worse.”

“Right. I’m sorry, I forgot about that.”

“Would you stop saying sorry!”

“Sorry. Damn. It’s just that I can’t help it because I am sorry.”

Suddenly, the door flies open with a bang, making the both of us jump and causing the door to lean as one of the hinges almost detaches from the door frame.

“Oh, hell,” Stella mutters as two women about her age stumble inside.

“Who the fuck are you?” I snarl, but I can take a guess. One is a shorter version of Stella and the other, tall as Stella, not related. Reminds me of Gabby with her smooth brown skin, corn rows and dark eyes.

The little one comes out swinging, but the other one has the good sense to hold her back.

Stella clears her throat as we watch the girls grapple with each other. “These are - she’s my sister, Selma.”

“No shit, looks like you and acts like your mother,”

“I’m Lexie,” the other one says with a grunt as Selma elbows her in the stomach.

“Stop it, Selma!” Stella snaps. “I’m fine.” Then she adds, “Took you long enough!”

Selma stops fighting Lexie. “We got stopped by Gladys Robinson. She wanted to talk and we couldn’t just ghost her.”

“Mrs. Robinson lives two doors down from you,” Stella explains. Really old , she mouths as if Gladys might hear her.

“I’ll be sure to stop in tomorrow and say hi,” I reply dryly.

Stella returns her attention to her sister and friend. “You should go home. We have practice at six.”

“So do you,” Lexie points out, her eyes studying me like I’m a specimen under a microscope.

Stella clenches her jaw. “I will in a minute. I wanna finish my conversation with Lachlan.”

“Are you kidding me!” Selma says. “You are leaving with us! Right now!”

“Oh, go blow a squirrel,” Stella says as Lexie drags Selma through the front door.

“I’m telling mom,” Selma shouts.

I remind myself that these three are college girls. Erin was more mature than them at 18, and the old ladies, and passarounds too. Some are young, but they’ve had hard pasts. Changes how they deal with life. I think about Stella. She’s pampered, protected. Fresh. Not someone who will fit into my life. My heart twinges, my head goes into denial and my dick, well, it’s flyin’ at half-mast in mourning.

The girl of my thoughts turn to me. “Sorry about that. I guess it runs in the family. But they’re right. Practice in the morning. Our first game starts in two weeks, so we’re being tortured. Three hours, then classes.”

“Then you better go,” I say but don’t really mean.

She nods. “Yeah.” She takes a couple of steps towards the door, then turns back to me. “Lachlan, I’m feeling you too.” Her words are rushed and she’s agitated. She’s probably never said anything like that to a guy in her life.

My casual shrug is out of line with my beating heart. “Can’t work though, darlin’. Two different worlds.”

“We could try.”

“Go home, Stella.”

She purses her lips. “I’m gonna make it up to you somehow. You know. Getting you arrested and you having to kick in your front door.”

“Go home, Stella.”

She nods, turns and leaves through the gaping hole in my wall.

I watch her cross the street and enter her parents’ house, then I push the armchair in front of the door to keep it closed. The weight of the world settles on my shoulders as I drag myself to the kitchen on feet made of lead. A few minutes later, the purr of Stella’s Firebird catches my attention, then slowly fades.

I pull a beer from the fridge, pop the top, and down it. One isn’t enough, so I guzzle another. I nurse the third one as I wander from room to room, thinking about everything that needs doing. The backyard’s the worst. All the shit needs to be hauled to the dump except the workshop, which needs a ton of work to make it usable. The fence needs paint and some new boards, and the deck is close to collapsing.

My brothers are going to come over and help me with the fixin’ up. Trigger, Rocky, Reaper, Eight, Hash, and Rider. None of them are afraid of hard work and Rider says he can fix up the workshop and build the deck. I suppose I can get him to fix the front door too. He’s got a lot of weird skills but doesn’t like to talk about how he came by them.

Unless something comes up at the club, we’re gonna hit it hard on the weekend.

I’m feelin’ rushed because family services will evaluate my house before Gabby is allowed over. Make sure it’s safe. Make sure she’ll have everything she needs for a weekend visit. That might not happen for weeks, maybe a couple of months, but I wanna be ready in case it happens sooner.

I finish my beer, then take a shower. It’s only ten and normally I’d head to the clubhouse and have a few brews with the brothers, get cozy with a passaround, but not tonight. I got too much on my mind and I don’t need any distractions. Besides, I doubt this day will get any better by fuckin’ and drinkin’ away my sorrows.

After I’ve brushed my teeth, I crawl into bed naked. Stella flashes in my head – her expressive face, her bangin’ body. She’s gonna fuckin’ ruin me, I think as I wrap my hand around my dick. It’s already hard and my nuts are beggin’ for release. I wanna go slow though, think about how I would fuck her. I cup my balls and give them a gentle squeeze, scraping’ my nails on the sensitive flesh.

I close my eyes and picture Stella on her knees, sucking on them. She’s awkward, maybe never done it before.

The thought of her inexperience makes me almost blow my load. I take a few deep breaths to settle down, then I turn back to Stella.

I tell her to jack me, to grab me harder than she is. She’s clumsy, not sure, but she’s fuckin’ enthusiastic. I can see it in her eyes as she looks up at me.

She takes my dick in her mouth, so fucking warm and wet. Her head’s bobbing up and down, trusting me, not realizing I wanna shove my dick down her throat. It’s too soon though. Rough fuckin’ can wait until she’s spent more time with me.

Then she grabs my dick with both hands as she takes me deeper. Not far, but far enough.

I explode with a grunt, then lay back breathless. Stella is dancing around in my head. Her bright eyes. Her crazy hair. Her long legs. How the fuck am I gonna get through the rest of my life without her?

Join a monastery, Red.

Yeah, I’ll have no choice.

I sleep heavy and wake up early, hungry as hell. Gotta get some food in me or I’ll forget myself and eat a kid.

After I’m dressed in my leather, I fire my bike up full throttle. Across the street, the curtain flicks and I have a crazy moment, thinking I should walk over and ask if can borrow three peanut butter sandwiches.

Instead, I head to Myrtle’s Breakfast Buffet. It’s a Jury favorite and has enough fuckin’ food to feed an elephant, which is good because I have the appetite of one. When I get there, Trigger, Rocky and Rocky’s ol’ lady, Jess, are sittin’ in a booth eating.

I slide in next to Trigger, my plate brimming with waffles, bacon, and scrambled eggs. “What’s up?”

“Hi,” Jess says as she dips a waffle into ketchup. Fuckin’ pregnant women. “I heard you got in trouble yesterday.”

Rocky snorts. “Got caught trying to bone an Amazon.” Crude asshole.

“It’s gonna fuck you up, brother,” Trigger says.

“Thanks for the news flash, Skippy,” I mumble through a mouthful of hashbrowns.

Jess tries to kick Trigger under the table but misses and gets me. “Fuck,” I grunt.

“Sorry,” she says.

Jess is a great girl, but also a walking menace. She tried to gut me with a knife during a shoot-out. Friendly fire, but fuckin’ hurt like hell. Still does somedays.

Stella’s a menace too, but I doubt she’d try to kill me with a knife. Hopefully.

Jesus fuck. Why can’t I get her out of my head?

“So dump your shit,” Rocky says. “Need a bit of funny today.”

I tell them what happened, which has them laughing until I get to the part about Gabby.

“That’s awful!” Jess exclaims. “It’s not fair.”

“Happens, baby,” Rocky says to her like he’s a walking therapy manual. “It don’t matter if you’d be a good parent. You get judged based on your looks, tats, past record.”

“His past record has nothing to do with children and that’s what it should be all about,” Jess retorts.

“Should,” Trigger says. “But ain’t.”

Jess turns to me. “If you cut your hair, shave your beard and wear a suit, it’ll work in your favor.”

My temper flares. “How long have you fuckin’ been an ol’ lady?”

Rocky snarls at me. “Show some respect!”

“You gonna cut your fuckin’ hair and get a shave because Jess says so?” I rumble.

Jess nods toward Trigger, who looked like he was sleeping on the streets before he met Evanee, his ol’ lady. Now he looks like someone on the cover of one of those fuckin’ bullshit men magazines. “No one would’ve guessed how hot Trigger was before he cleaned up.”

“Hey,” Rocky interjects, giving her a hard squeeze around the shoulders. “Eyes on me, baby.”

Jess slaps at Rocky’s hand. “I’m just saying.” Then she grins at me. “Maybe he should substitute for you at the hearing.”

I shudder as I imagine Trigger stepping in for me. “It’d work until he opened his mouth.”

We all laugh. Trigger says, “Maybe we could get Evanee to be your representative. She’s pretty good at gettin’ men to do what she wants.”

“Thought you put a stop to that,” I say.

“I’d make an exception in your case, brother.”

“Cool, dude, but nope, I’m not gonna cut my hair or get a shave. I ain’t gonna wear a suit either. This is me and I’m not gonna pretend otherwise. Gabby needs her father and I’m a good one and that’s all that matters.”

My phone rings. It’s Erin, my ex. “Gotta take this,” I grunt as I stand and walk out of earshot.”

“Erin,” I say tersely.

She takes a deep breath. “We can’t see you tomorrow. Trula wants to meet with you and me before you visit Gabby.” Trula is Gabby’s case worker.

“Why?” I ask even though I already know the fuckin’ answer.

“Because she wants to reassess the case.”

“Because I got arrested yesterday,” I say flatly.

She hesitates, then, “Well, yes.”

“It was a misunderstanding.”

“I heard that, but…” She pauses groping for the right words. “Trula wants to understand how things transpired. It’s murky.”

I suck in a breath and try to settle down. “Nothin’ murky about it, Erin. It was a misunderstanding and I never got charged.”

“I know,” she murmurs. “But still.”

I feel betrayed by my ex. “You could’ve said it to her, then she’d have backed off.”

“I know.” Erin says. “She wants to meet at her office. See you Wednesday.”

She hangs up before I can reply and I almost throw my phone against the wall. Fuckin’ Erin, fuckin’ Trula, fuckin’ cops. I don’t realize until later that I didn’t include Stella in the cast of villains.