Beautiful Outlaw (19 page)

He crosses his arms over his chest, never taking his eyes off mine.  “What the hell are you going to do here all day?”

“First of all, I’m going to wash all the dirty dishes piled up around the kitchen.  Then, I’ll be probably be nosy and check out all the rooms.”  I reply with a smile.

He looks at me for a minute more before nodding.  “I’ll leave the kid with you.  If you have any problems, just call.”

I nod with another smile.  “Okay.”

He walks over to the bed and leans towards me.  Placing his lips on mine, he mumbles.  “Later, baby.”

Slave Driver

Bowie

I walk into the house and the scent of something fuckin’ delicious cooking in the kitchen hits my nose. It’s a hell of a lot different than the smell of weed and stale beer that normally fills the house.  Like a magnet, I start to walk towards the kitchen but stop when I hear Tin say, “What the hell happened here?”

I stop and look around the living room, wondering the same thing myself.  Everything’s still the same as it was when I left, all of Grandpa’s old furniture is still in the same spot, but it’s all spit-shined.  I swear the wood floors are so clean you could eat off of them and there isn’t a speck of dust in sight. 

A slow smile spreads across my face as I look at my brother.  “Shay happened.”

He looks down to his dust covered boots and then to mine.  “What the fuck are we supposed to do, take our boots off outside or what?”

That’s exactly what Nina would’ve made us do, but that shit is not gonna fly in my house.  Instead, I walk back out the door and beat my foot against the porch, dislodging as much dirt as I can.  Then I head back in.  “I’m going to find out what in the hell smells so good.”

Leaving him behind, I walk straight into the kitchen.  My first sight is Shay on her hands and knees with her ass in the air.  She’s got a rag in her hand as is attempting to clean off a decades of food splatter from the front of the old stove.  Without looking around the room, I walk straight to her and grab her hips. 

Grinding my dick into her ass, I say, “Hey, baby.”

Her head comes up and knocks into my chest with such speed that she damn near knocks me backwards.  “Good Lord, Bowie.  You scared me to death.”

I hear a chuckle and turn my head to see Tag standing on a chair, running a cloth over the blades of the ceiling fan.  “What the hell are you doing up there?”

He nods his head to Shay.  “Your woman may be hot as fuck, but she’s whacked in the head.  She pulled me out of bed, fed me, and has had me cleaning shit ever since.”

I can tell by his tone that he’s teasing her.  If not, I would jump his ass for giving her hell.  I look around the kitchen and see it’s nearly as spotless as the living room.  All the dirty dishes are gone, and all our empties and pizza boxes have disappeared.  “Damn, Shay.  You’ve been busy.”

“She sure in the hell has.” Tin says as he comes into the room and looks around. 

She uses my body to pull herself from the floor.  “I didn’t do much.”

“Bull shit.” Tag shouts as he jumps from the chair.  “She hasn’t stopped for a minute. She’s a damn slave driver.”

Tin chuckles as he walks to the fridge and pulls a beer out.   “She is, is she?”

“Hell, yeah.  I swear I had to beg to take a piss.”

“That’s not true.” She says to him, placing her hands on her hips.

There is something about the playful banter between them that makes me smile.  “Even I would let the boy take time to piss.”

Her voice grows louder when she says.  “I gave him a break.”

“Oh, yeah she did give me a little down time when we walked to the store to grab stuff to make dinner.  She called that our break.” He replies, using his fingers to make air quotes when he says break.

“What the fuck?” I say as I look to Shay.  “The store’s nearly a mile away.  Why the hell would you walk there?”

She shrugs, turning to stir something on the stove.  “I don’t know how to drive, and even if I did, I don’t have a car.”

“You should have called me.” I growl out, angry that I hadn’t even thought to ask her if she needed anything. 

“I told her I would drive, but she wouldn’t let me take your truck.” Tag states, finally sitting his ass down.

Tin chooses that moment to notice the aroma floating around the kitchen.  He looks around the room, trying to find the source of the scent, and smiles.  “Shit, Shay.  Whatever you got cooking smells fuckin’ amazing.”

“I made roast beef and potatoes. It should be done in a few minutes.”

“She made an apple pie, too.” Tag adds, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. 

I stare at him a second, taking in his excited face.  He doesn’t even look like the same kid I met in the barn.  I finally turn away from him and back to Shay, still angry that she walked to the store.  “I gotta teach you to drive.”

She nods but doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.  Finally, she starts to speak in a nervous voice. “I talked to the manager at the salon, and she had to let me go for not calling in.  I’m gonna have to look for a new job, but I’m not sure what I’ll do until I find one.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, wondering why she’s acting so unsure of herself.

“I have a little money put back, some that Jeremy gave me and some from my job.  It won’t last long.”

I look at Tin to see if he knows what she’s talking about, but he just shrugs.  Turning to her I say, “If you need money just tell me.  You don’t need a job.”

Her face goes hard before she replies.  “I’m going to get a job and have my own money, but I would appreciate it if you would teach me to drive.”

I start to interrupt her, tell her that I would take care of her, but she cuts me off.  “I may need to borrow your truck though, until I can get enough money to put a down payment on a car of my own.”

I want to tell her that she’s as wacked as the kid says she is, but I can tell it’s killing her pride to ask me to borrow my truck.  So instead of giving her hell, I just nod.  “Come on, baby.  I’m gonna teach you to drive.”

Respect

Shay

My hands fist around the steering wheel with both fear and excitement, as I drive down the deserted road.  My fingers twitch with each pot hole we hit.  “Am I doing okay?”

I don’t look at him, but I can hear the smile in his voice.  “You’re doing fine.”

“I really like driving, always did.”

“Why didn’t you get your license?”

Staring at the road, I do my best to answer honestly without going into too much detail.   “By the time I was sixteen, Mom was sick.  I wasn’t going to bother her with something that wasn’t important.”

At that time, I was too scared of the change in my mother to ask for anything.  The once vibrant woman became a shell of herself overnight.  She quit working at the library, quit making family dinners, and mostly just slept her time away.  Even as a kid, I knew enough to be frightened.  Now, I realize I didn’t know anything at all.  Nothing, not a damn thing, could have prepared me for her death.  Nothing I’ve ever gone through even compares to the pain I’m feeling and have felt since Bowie said she was gone. 

“I can understand that, but why didn’t you get your license after you got married?”

His question causes my fingers to tighten even harder on the steering wheel, turning my knuckles a ghastly shade of white.  “I had no reason for a license then; I had a personal driver to take me anywhere I needed to go.”

“What about what you wanted?”

My eyes go to him, wondering what he meant, causing the truck to swerve.  I focus my attention back on the road and ask him to explain.  “What do you mean by that?”

“You said you had a driver to take you where you needed to go, but what about where you wanted to go.”

I think about his question, wondering how to explain without giving Bowie too much information.  “I didn’t get to go where I wanted very often, so having a driver was convenient.”

“How about seeing your mom and dad?  Did the driver take you there, too?”  Something in his voice tells me he knows the answer.

“I wasn’t able to see my parents very much.”

I close my eyes for a brief second, trying to block out the pain my response brings to surface.  I have hated Marcus since the day he showed up at my parents’ house; the day he said I had no choice but to marry him.  That hatred grew during the time I was living with him but knowing that I missed the last years of my mother’s life has taken the hatred into something else, something dark and nasty. 

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask me why I didn’t see them, but I feel the need to explain it anyway.  “I wanted to see them, but Marcus wouldn’t let me go to their house as much as I would have liked.  Sometimes, I would go months without seeing them.  For the first few years of our marriage, before Mom became too ill to get out, they would come to Marcus’ house.  But when they came to visit me, he would make them feel uncomfortable.”

I can feel his eyes on me as he asks, “What did he do to them?”

“He didn’t do anything really, just being himself.”

“What’s that mean?” He asks, his voice cold enough to sends chills up my spine. 

I take a minute to think of the best way to answer him.  “Marcus has a very high opinion of himself, while he held a very low opinion of my family. He didn’t respect them, and he talked down to them.  That’s if he talked to them at all.”

“Your dad has worked his entire life to keep his family fed and a roof over y’all’s heads.  Your mom worked until she was too sick to get out of bed.  How the hell could anyone not have respect for the two of them?”

His words bring a tear to my eye, his opinions mirroring my own.  “You’re right. My dad did work his ass off to make a good life for us, then worked even harder to make sure mom had the best medical care she could get. Marcus just saw the fact that he had to work so hard as a weakness.”

I blink back my tears and go on.  “My mom was the most wonderful mother in the entire world.  She hid her illness from Jeremy and me until it could no longer be hidden.  For Marcus, just the fact that she was sick was a reason to look down on her.”

“He may have more money than me, probably went to some fancy-ass college, still he’s fuckin’ whacked.”

His words are simple and to the point; they’re also true. Marcus is whacked. “Yeah, he is.”

After that we both go quiet.  He merely points here and there, letting me know where to turn.  Before I know it, we are back in the driveway of his house.  His hand reaches out to touch my face as I cut the engine off.  He cups my cheek pulling me to him and places a kiss on my lips. 

After the gentle touch, he pulls back and looks at me.  “I hate that he put you through that shit.”

His words shock me.  After such a long silence between us, I was expecting Marcus to still be on his mind.  “It’s okay.  He’s not part of my life anymore.”

He shakes his head.  “It’s not okay.”

I don’t reply, just look at him.  Then, I bring my lips to him and give him a soft kiss. 

He pulls back and stares into my eyes.  “I knew he was a fuckin’ whack-job the minute I heard he tried to change you.  Any man that could look at you and want someone else has to be fucked in the head.”

She’s Learning

Bowie

I rub the back of my neck, trying to work on the tension.  Bringing her here is killing me, but I know it has to be done.  “Just stay beside me.”

“I will,” She says with a nod as she follows me to the clubhouse.  She doesn’t seem frightened of being here, but she sure in the hell isn’t happy.

I stop just before walking inside.  “You’ll be okay.  You’ve got to get used to the clubhouse, so now’s as good of a time as any.”

“I thought you said I wouldn’t have to come here very much?”

I shake my head.  “You won’t usually.  Right now, though, I have to stake my claim.  I need to make sure everyone of the boys knows you’re mine.”

My words aren’t exactly true, but they’re all she’s getting from me. When Rollo called to say there was a party tonight and my appearance was needed, I almost left Shay at home.  I didn’t want to expose her to the shit that goes on at the clubhouse during a party, but then I got a call from Lock.  Marcus left town for the weekend.  Supposedly, he’s heading to New York for business but Lock couldn’t be sure of where he went once he got on the plane.  No damn way I’m gonna tell her that I’m worried about that bastard showing up at our doorstep. 

Her eyes shoot daggers at me as she says, “I think you did that the last time I was here.”

“That wasn’t near enough, baby.” Pulling her into my arms, I raise one hand to her breast and give it a gentle squeeze.  “I need to show everyone that you’re mine.”

I feel a shutter run through her body, when I lean down and place an open mouthed kiss on her neck.  Pulling the delicate skin into my mouth, I sink my teeth into her.  I bite down, just enough to leave a mark then step away from her.  “By the time we leave today, everyone will know you belong to me.”

She runs a hand gently over the bandage on her arm, reminding me that my name is now where it belongs.  “I thought that was why I got this.”

“It is, but sometimes these boys need a bit more of a reminder,” I say with a nod, as I open the door and lead her inside.

I feel her body tense, when we are only a few feet from the door.  Looking down at her, I ask. “What’s wrong?” 

She nods her head towards the bar.  “What is Tin-Man doing?”

One of the club whores is lying across the bar with a line of coke spread across her bare stomach, my brother is leaning over her getting ready to take a hit.  Before he does, his hand disappears between her naked legs.  Just as she lets out a moan and starts to lift her hips, he leans down and inhales the powder into his nose. 

I look back to Shay and shrug.  “He’s having fun.” It’s not really an answer, but that’s all she’s getting from me.  She has to learn that anything goes at the clubhouse, and that she has no say one way or another. 

Her eyes peel away from him and make contact with mine.  I can see the uncertainly in them when she asks, “Is he doing drugs?”