Smolder (Georgia Smoke #6)

• Sixteen •

“We fuck the hot pussy. We don’t love it. How many times do I need to remind you?”

Sebastian

I poured my third full glass of whiskey. I hadn’t gone up to the house, but stopped at the stables instead. Other than the horses, the buildings were empty. While I lifted it to my lips to drink it down in one long gulp, hoping to numb the shit roaring inside me, the door opened, and I cut my eyes in that direction to see King walk inside, followed by my brother. I finished the drink and leaned against the bar.

“What’s got you drinking Jack like it’s water?” Thatcher asked.

“I’m gonna toss out a guess here and say she’s about five-seven, blonde, and excellent at pool,” King replied with a smirk as he walked behind the bar.

“The girl you’re supposed to use to infiltrate the Dancastles?”

I didn’t like the way he’d said it or how he’d said it. Grabbing the bottle, I poured more whiskey into my now-empty glass.

“Fuck, if you’re gonna drink it like that, at least drink something better than Jack,” King said to me, sliding the bottle he’d just poured from in my direction.

I glanced down at the five-hundred-dollar bottle of scotch. “Why waste it?” I replied. “It’s not like I’m drinking for enjoyment.”

“He has a point,” Thatcher agreed. “Don’t give him that. But pour me a glass.”

The door opened again, and Wells came walking inside with Teller, his younger brother. He’d just turned twenty this summer, but unlike the rest of us, he hadn’t been pushed into the family workings just yet.

“What the fuck is Teller doing here?” I asked.

“Stellan and Roland were informed that it was time Teller made a decision. He’s a part of this, or he isn’t,” Thatcher replied.

I didn’t have to ask who had informed them. It would have come from the top. Blaise Hughes would have made the call, taking Roland’s decision to let his youngest son finish college like a normal student out of his hands.

Wells slapped his brother on the back. “It’s about time Momma’s best boy got his hands dirty,” he said with a mocking grin.

Teller had always been their mother’s favorite, and it chafed the hell out of Wells. His narcissistic personality didn’t handle it well. Unlike Thatcher, who gave not one fuck about the fact that I was our mother’s favorite.

“Easy, brother. Your envy is showing,” Teller replied with a cocky grin, then walked over toward me—or rather the bar.

I liked Teller. He’d been annoying as fuck when he was a kid, always getting into our shit, but he hadn’t seemed to inherit all the bad traits that made Wells hard to like.

“Fuck off,” Wells shot back at him. “At least I wasn’t raised to be a pussy.”

“Could you not come in here with that shit? Keep your family drama at home,” King told them both. The irritation was clear in his voice.

“Sorry,” Teller replied. “Can I have some of that?”

King moved the scotch over to him. “Drink up, little Jones.”

Thatcher nodded his head toward Teller while looking at me. “You know, he could take your current job if you want out of it.”

I stared back at my brother, trying to gauge what he was attempting to do here. I’d come to get drunk so I wouldn’t have to deal with tonight. Not because I wanted to be rid of Royal.

“Are you trying to start shit with me?” I asked him.

“Fuck,” King muttered behind me.

Thatcher cocked an eyebrow. “You tell me.”

“What’s the job?” Teller asked, but I didn’t look at him.

“One you won’t be taking,” I said through clenched teeth.

Thatcher cut his eyes to Teller. “He’s closer to her age. It would make more sense.”

I slammed my glass down on the bar. Thatcher’s lips twitched like he might smile.

Fucking asshole.

“He’s not going near her,” I told him.

Thatcher chuckled that deep, sadistic sound that was rarely heard. “All right then. I was just trying to be helpful.”

“Bullshit! You are never helpful,” I snapped.

“Sebastian, please don’t tell me you went and fell in love again,” Wells said with a roll of his eyes. “Jesus, dude, what is your deal? We fuck the hot pussy. We don’t love it. How many times do I need to remind you?”

I narrowed my eyes as I glared at his smug face. Like he knew shit about anything. “I’m not in love. I’ve never been in love. But Royal is complicated, and I’m not sure …” I paused because I wasn’t saying she was innocent yet. I had to do some more investigating before I announced her innocence in all this. “She’s different.”

Wells laughed. “You weren’t in love with Oakley when you asked her to marry you?” he accused.

I wasn’t the one who had taken his first love from him; that was his cousin, Wilder. I had dated her years after Wilder and proposed. But I now knew it wasn’t love.

“No, I was young and felt possessive of her.” I left out why. I didn’t need to rub that in his face even if it had been another lifetime ago when he was the one in love with her.

“Because you had her cunt first. Popped that cherry,” Thatcher said as he grinned wickedly over the rim of his glass.

“Where is Capri?” I asked him. “Don’t you need to be standing guard over her like the psychopath you are?”

King snorted behind me.

“You took her virginity?” Wells asked me, sounding surprised.

Was he really asking me this? Who the fuck cared?

I took another drink.

“You want to get under Wilder’s skin? Bring that shit up. He’ll get that feral, enraged look in his eyes, and then he’ll probably go and fuck the hell out of his woman, reminding her who’s fucking it now,” King said with a chuckle.

Wells shook his head. “Damn, I thought for sure she’d lost it before you. God knows I tried like hell to get in it. Probably wouldn’t have cheated on her if she’d just given my horny teenage ass some. Hell, we might be married with kids by now.”

Teller barked out a laugh. “She would have never married you! I was a little boy, and even I could see her panting after Wilder.”

Thatcher walked over and set his empty glass down beside me. He looked from King to me. “You’re right. Need to get back to Capri.”

Our little jockey had him so wound up that he was almost a different man. Almost.

Last week, he’d taken off one of our stable hand’s fingers for touching Capri’s arm on fucking accident. Thankfully, King had walked in on it and convinced Thatcher that Capri would be very upset if he kept it up. Or else he probably would have taken the guy’s whole hand or killed him, slowly slicing the man to pieces. She still had no idea it’d happened.

“Where are the girls you said we’d get tonight?” Teller asked, looking at Wells.

Wells pointed toward King. “Not while he’s here. The ones who have shackled themselves don’t want the bitches around anymore.”

I picked up the bottle of Jack. I could use the distraction myself. “You staying here long, King?” I asked, hearing a slight slur in my voice.

“Nope. I’m leaving,” he replied, then finished his scotch. When he was done, he set it beside Thatcher’s glass. “Enjoy your night, boys.”

I watched him stroll out the door.

Wells looked at me. “You want Fall?” he asked me.

I thought about it for a minute. The stripper was always willing to please me. She had the wrong color hair now though. All the things she could do to me weren’t appealing. I wanted to fuck, but it just wasn’t her face I was thinking about.

“No,” I finally replied. “Not up for it tonight. But Teller would enjoy her.”

Wells sighed. “Don’t do this to me too.”

“Do what?” I asked him, already starting toward the door.

“Get your head up some chick’s ass.”

“Just tired tonight,” I replied.

“Bullshit!” he called out as I left the room.

Taking my phone from my pocket, I pulled up my texts, then remembered I’d never checked Royal’s text from earlier tonight. Seeing her as a job was becoming harder, and my brain wasn’t working that way anymore where she was concerned.

I opened the app that sent me all her texts and calls.

Merce: Please stop ignoring me. I miss you. I fucked up. You know I love you, Royal. Talk to me, baby.

My hand tightened on the phone, and I stopped walking.

I scrolled to the next text; it was him again, only thirty minutes ago. He’d called her, but she hadn’t answered as well.

Merce: If you will talk to me, we can fix this. Us. I’ve had time to think, and I can’t live without you.

Royal hadn’t texted back.

I went back to my texts and found the last one she’d sent me. I almost smiled—until I remembered how our night had ended. I’d wanted to watch the life drain from that motherfucker’s face. He’d called her names, taken the glow from her cheeks. The sadness in her eyes did me in. The driving force to mutilate the man who had caused it was alarming, even to me. I’d never reacted that way before.

I stepped out of bounds tonight. I’m sorry. The things he said to you were cruel, and I was already on edge. Seeing him hit you caused me to snap. I shouldn’t have. I handled it poorly. Please forgive me.

I read over the text one more time before hitting Send. It was a lie. I should have done more than I had, just not in front of her. That was the real reason I was apologizing. He deserved much worse, but she didn’t deserve to see it.

I didn’t expect her to text me back. Tomorrow, I was going back to Athens, but not to see her or talk to her. I was going to follow her. Properly this time. In another vehicle she wouldn’t notice or suspect. There were some things I needed answers to. I wanted her name cleared from any involvement with the drug distribution. Then, I’d find out if Merce and her father were involved. But I wasn’t going to use her to do it. I had another plan.

The thought of using Royal made me physically ill. She’d been used enough by the man who should have been protecting her. But she didn’t need him anymore. She had me. Even if she didn’t want me at the moment.

There was no response from her that night, and it took all my willpower not to send another text. Beg if I needed to. However, the next morning, just as I was arriving in Athens city limits, I got an alert that she’d sent a text, and it wasn’t to me.

Pulling over, I picked up my phone and read it. She had texted someone named Anya.

Are you working today? If so, would you mind bagging me up all the leftovers?

I read that twice, confused. What leftovers?

A response came through.

Not today! I’m sorry. Dareen is working, and she wouldn’t mind doing it if it wasn’t for Alice being on shift. She’s terrified of the old hag.

I wasn’t getting something here. Was she talking about food? Getting leftovers from a restaurant?

She sent another text.

That’s okay. Thanks anyway! I understand. Grams was wanting the Rise and Dine cheese grits. LOL.

The bag from the back door of the diner. She was getting their leftovers for food. Fucking hell. I should have been relieved that it hadn’t been the laced drugs, but my chest felt so damn tight that I couldn’t take a deep breath.

Does she not like the ones at the cafeteria? You know Ethel loves you there and will bag you up whatever you ask for.

So, she wasn’t just getting food from Rise and Dine. The little charmer didn’t just use her skills to keep her family’s bills paid, but she also had places that would give her the food that they’d otherwise toss out.

I’m heading to classes today. I’ll stop and see her. Thanks! Enjoy your day off!

Was Ethel at the Howison cafeteria? Not that it mattered. Grams was getting her cheese grits from the diner. I’d make sure they got a delivery of everything on the buffet.