Altering Authority (8 page)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

While she slept, Phil decided, along with the rest of the guys vote, that Tatum should return to San Francisco with them for a while. At least until everything calmed down here. He ran it by Donna when he’d gone to the Cottage yesterday.

When she opened the door, she nearly had a heart attack at the sight of him. Before she could slam it in his face, Phil kicked his boot in, blocking her.

“I’m sorry Phil. Please don’t hurt me!” she yelled, backing away from him.

He looked at her as if she were mentally deranged.  “Calm down woman before you piss yourself,” he said to her steadily.

She calmed down a fraction but still kept her distance. He told her what had happened to Tatum and the club. Donna took it in stride, accustom to the trials and tribulations of being a pimp, drug lord, arms dealer he supposed. She looked the same, having aged well, Phil thought. He hated her guts, could have cared less if she were dead or alive after keeping Tatum a secret from him for all these years, however he wouldn’t mind having another round in the sack with her. He told her that he wanted to take Tatum with him, to keep an eye on her in San Francisco and Donna agreed that it would be for the best.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

When Tatum woke from her nap, the pain meds were still in full affect. She turned slowly, pushing her feet off the side of the bed and pulled herself up with the headboard. Walking down the stairs wasn’t as bad as going up them. She found Phil, Jager, Bobo, Gary and Sugar sitting around the dining room table. Surprisingly, they all stood upon her entrance, the way gentlemen did in old movies. She felt herself blush and smiled at the guys. Sugar had been somewhat of a ghost, choosing to spend his time at the club since he’d gotten there. Now that it was gone, he looked lost.

He walked over to her and gave her a loose hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry Tatum,” he said and she suspected that he really, truly was.

Phil stood then and offered her his chair. She took it gratefully and he turned on the kettle for her. Jager was playing with a lighter on the table, flipping it over and over. His hair was hanging in his face a bit and he looked up at her and winked.
God
, she thought
.
He made her feel like a teenager. Once the kettle boiled, Phil laid her mug in front of her and sat on Gary’s lap. It would have been an unusual thing to see, however with these guys, Tatum came to realize nothing was too weird. Phil looked at her sternly, as did the others. She raised her eyebrows, waiting for someone to tell her what they were thinking.

“We want you to come back to San Francisco with us,” Phil said.

Tatum didn’t know how to react. She wasn’t used to people tending on her; worrying about her. She looked at her new family, and began to play absent-mindedly with her mug. “What about the other clubs? The clients?” she asked, not making eye contact.

“Rick has agreed to take care of things. Your mom will come and stay here at the house,” her father replied.

She hesitated for a second, still not looking up. “… You
all
want this? None of you mind?”

Jager sensed that this was directed at him. “You don’t have a say in the matter Tate. We are only
asking
you out of courtesy. You’re coming whether you want to or not.”

She laughed then and flinched afterwards because the movement hurt her ribs. “I guess I’m going to San Francisco than.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The week following, the men, along with Tatum left, via the same plane that had brought them. The debate had been about whose place Tatum would stay at. Phil had a single bedroom condo. She didn’t feel comfortable staying with Bobo, Gary, or any of the other guys. Jager, naturally, offered his place, being the one with the biggest house, however Tatum knew that if she did stay there, her feelings would only get stronger. And she didn’t want to give his boys the wrong impression. A hotel was also out of the question because they wanted to keep her close, and anonymous.

Eventually she just decided to stay in the club. It had a spare room and despite the entire place smelling like soggy cigarettes and stale beer, it was pretty clean. She bought some new sheets and a mattress just to be on the safe side though; with the amount of women that hung around the men she didn’t really trust the bed. Jagers mother helped her to tidy up, seeing as how she couldn’t move very quickly with her broken rib, even though it was healing and not nearly as tender as it was a week ago.

Tatum could see where Jager got his looks from. His mother, Jeannie, could have been a biker-beauty queen. Her long blonde hair was immaculate. Her cheek bones made Tatum feel like she had a baby face. Despite her beauty though, Jeannie looked rough. You could tell she’d seen her share of awful things as well as executed them herself. She also had more tattoos than some of the men.

As they spent time together, Jeannie watched Tatum, wondering if she was trust worthy. What she intended to get out of her relationship with Jager? She was happy that he’d come back home more like his old self, though she sensed something different about him. A new determination maybe?

Tatum studied Jeannie as well. Wondering how she got so hard. What had Jeannie seen that she hadn’t? Would she be like that when she was Jeannie’s age?

One thing they did have in common was the fact that they
liked
to take care of the men. It wasn’t a sexist thing. Tatum could roll with the best of them, however it was nice to cook and clean while the boys were out doing their thing.

Pretty quickly though, Tatum started missing getting her hands dirty. Sitting around the club, Jeannie’s and Jagers house, taking care of the boys and drinking tea and talking about the weather with the older woman became monotonous. It was a fairly normal life and it was driving Tatum crazy.

One night, after about five days of being in San Francisco , Tatum was at Jagers, just after putting the boys to bed. She told Jager to give May some time off and that she would look after them.

He came in wearing his bike helmet. She was sitting on the living room floor folding some laundry for him that his mother had started earlier that day. One of the shirts was stained with blood. Tatum prided herself on her ability to remove it from any kind of fabric. She had it sitting in a bowl next to her and would scrub at it every few minutes. He looked at her set-up on the floor and raised his eyebrow at her, smiling. She lifted the shirt a bit from the bowl, so as not to drip everywhere but to show him her handy work.

“I got all the blood out of this one!” she said proudly. He looked at her impressed, but with something else. “What?” she looked at him and then down at the shirt, thinking she may have missed a spot.

Jager smiled and shook his head, laying his helmet on the seat in the porch. “I’d um… hide those types of stains from April. Here you are priding yourself on removing them. Not concerned with where they came from or anything,” he laughed and ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it.

“…Well. It’s not yours right? You didn’t mention getting hurt or anything,” she replied, concerned that she’d over-stepped.

“No-no.  I’m just saying you’re amazing.”

Tatum smiled back and returned to folding clothes, trying to hide the heat in her face. The silence hung in the air for a minute, but not awkwardly. Jager took off his sweater and put it in his room, emerging a few minutes later with a pair of jogging pants on and a t-shirt. She stood after putting the clothes in the basket and laid it on the couch. “I better get going then,” she said and reached for her sweater on the back of his Lay-Z-Boy.

“Stay and watch a movie or something. I’m starving. We can order some burgers,” he said and snatched her sweater out of her hands playfully.

It was hard to resist him when he was in these moods and smiling at her the way he was. She started to agree but then remembered that the boys had an incident earlier that morning.

“Shit. I forgot to tell you. Matthew spilled his juice on the cable box. It’s not working at all.”

Jager shook his head and raised his eyebrows in shock. “Shit is right,” he said, looking towards the TV.

Tatum smiled apologetically at him. “Sorry,” she said and grabbed her sweater back out of his hands but he held tight.

“I’ve got another TV,” he said, raising his eyebrows at her and smiling devilishly. The only other TV in his house was in his bedroom.

“You want to watch a movie… in your bed?” Tatum asked him, trying to convey that she didn’t think that was a good idea but unable to hide her smile.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Why not. You don’t think you can control yourself around me?” he smiled even broader.

She didn’t answer that question. Just laughed at him, and stared, gauging if he was serious. She decided after a moment he was and relinquished her hold on her sweater. Walking towards his bedroom, she grabbed the phone off the hook on the end table and said over her shoulder, “I can’t wear jeans in bed. It’s a pet peeve of mine. You’re going to need to give me a pair of your pants or something.” She looked around his room and wondered idly if he’d changed it around after April had died, or if she’d chosen this layout for the furniture. Tatum thought that it looked strange. The bed is in the middle of the room, underneath the window and against the wall opposite of her. The closet was on the wall to the right, and she doubted it could be opened all the way considering how the bed was so close to it. Next to that was the bathroom door and than his long dresser which held the TV. The left wall was practically empty aside from a laundry basket and a chair.

While she was sizing the place up, Jager went to his drawer and pulled out a pair of track pants, along with one of his t-shirts. He handed them to her with a devious grin, and licked his lips. She took them, with an expression that said:
I can play this game too
. Turning so that she was back on to him, she slid her shirt off. He noticed immediately that her back was bare. No bra. Slowly she put his on. She felt his eyes on her and undid her jeans, sliding them over her ass and down her legs carefully. The shirt was huge, hanging nearly to her knees.

“I think the shirt is fine” she said, turning to face him and passing him his pants back.

He’d started to get hard and doubted that he
could control himself with her in his bed. Not the other way around. His smile never faltered and he took a few steps toward her, so that their toes were practically touching. Tatum took a deep breath to calm her beating heart. He placed his hand on her hip, reveling in the feel of her skin underneath his shirt. Loving the way the pressure of his fingers caused it to ride up her thighs even more. Pushing up against her, he leaned in towards her neck. She breathed in a shaky breath and tilted her chin to give him easier access. He took another step forward towards the bed, causing her to step back and push herself against him a little more firmly. Her breasts were soft against him and now he was full on ready to go. He ran the tip of his nose up the side of her neck, towards her ear and whispered seductively, “…What do you want on your burger,” before reaching behind her and picking the phone up off his bed.

When he pulled back he was laughing. She was trying to act pissed off but couldn’t help herself and started cracking up too. “You’re an asshole,” she said walking towards the bathroom. “I don’t want a burger! Tell them to send me their biggest pickle!” and the door slammed.

Jager fell onto the bed, dialing the number of the takeout down the road and adjusting himself. His cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much.

They watched a movie. A comedy, and for some reason, it seemed funnier watching it with each other. Tatum fell asleep with about twenty minutes left to it. Jager liked having her next to him and saw no harm with letting her stay. He pulled the blankets up around the two of them and took off his shirt before settling in next to her.

She woke up at some point during the night to find herself curled into him. His arm under her neck, hand resting on her bare back, where the shirt had ridden up. Her heart raced and she was so giddy she could have cried. She debated moving, getting up and going back to the club or at the very least sleeping in the spare room but decided against it. He’d obviously put his arm there, pulled the blankets over them both. She was comfortable, and happy, and decided to let herself have this one little thing.

The next morning she was alone. She heard the boys in the living room laughing and assumed he’d gotten up with them. She made her way out to the living room and found Matthew sitting on the couch with a huge bowl of grapes in his hand. She kissed him on top of the head and took a handful. Popping a couple into her mouth she headed toward the kitchen where she could hear Connor making car sounds. When she rounded the corner, she found Jager leaning against the counter, shirtless, his hair a complete mess. He was facing the table which held his mother, with Connor in her laps, Gary, and Bobo. Her chewing slowed and her smile faded as she looked at Jager and then down at herself, still wearing his t-shirt.

This looked bad.

Gary raised his eyebrows and smiled at her and then at Jager. His mother raised an eyebrow as well but didn’t look nearly as amused. Jager was practically beaming. “I had a
great
night last night Tate,” he said and winked at her when his mother looked at him.

In that moment she could have died. “It’s not how it looks,” she said towards the table. Jeannie lifted her chin and continued to size up Tatums ensemble. “You’re an ass,” she said to Jager before turning back towards the room to grab some pants.

“Not around the kids’ babe!” he yelled after her laughing. While she was getting changed, he explained that nothing happened to his mom and friend. They didn’t believe him and he didn’t care.

The day passed a lot like the others. Tatum took the boys to the park and for some groceries. Jager called at one point to check on the boys. “We are getting groceries. Matthew wanted some kind of… something… I don’t know what it is. Cookies I think.”

              Jager could sense something in her voice. She seemed to be in a good mood. It wasn’t annoyance. “Are you ok? What’s the matter?” he asked.

              She took a deep breath and laughed. “I’m feeling really…domesticated. It’s a strange feeling for me.”

              Jager laughed. “Next you will be discussing coupons with the women at the park and thinking about saving for retirement.”

              Tatum felt like an idiot for grinning as she stalked the isles with Connor in the seat of the cart and Matthew in the part where the groceries went. She didn’t mention to him that they had chocolate in one hand and candy in the other and both were opened and being consumed.

“I even called Matthew
hun
today. I
never
say
hun
!”

              Afterward, she realized why mothers don’t give their children so much sugar. The kids were hyped up and destroying the house.

              She took them to the park for the second time that day. Sitting on the bench, watching how the boys interacted with the other kids she wondered if normal people really did discuss couponing and retirement. There were only a handful of other kids there and three moms. She studied them intently, trying to read their lips to see what they
were
actually saying. She noticed when two of them looked up at the street and then back at each other. One mom began fanning herself and the other opened her mouth and her eyes as if in shock. Their eyes followed something on the street but at that moment Matthew yelled at Connor for putting rocks in his mouth. Tatum shook her finger at him and he spit them out just as a deep, sexy voice said her name next to her. She looked up to see Jager smiling down at her. The other moms were staring at them and he knew it.

              “How was your day
hun
?” he said the last word more loudly than necessary. “Did you cut those coupons I was telling you about?” he kept on. Tatum laughed out loud as the moms practically salivated over him. He sat and put his arm over her shoulders.

“Shut up” she said and poked him with her elbow.

“Did the accountant call? He wants to discuss retirement!” he finished with a loud and enthusiastic flourish.

Tatum buckled over, her hands holding her stomach and she cracked up hopelessly at him. Those sentences, from his mouth, seemed unnatural. Gods didn’t worry about retirement and coupons.

He watched her then, without her knowing, as she watched the boys. She loved them. He could see it in her eyes that she was debating if this life was all that bad; if grocery shopping, peewee practice and 401K’s were really the lowest of the lows.