Broken Memphis (14 page)

23

Pax

Family Man

After the meeting with Ginger Snaps, I'm on edge. The other guys aren't much happier. I feel the tension when we sit at the diner for breakfast the next morning. Even Joker remains low-key, but Trigger doesn't notice. He's playing proud daddy to Madden and Ryder, who sit on each side of him.

By Thanksgiving dinner, I'm struggling to control my irritation. My brain runs through a million questions.
Why are we waiting to hit Trigger? Why do we trust Madden and Ginger? Why don't we fucking do something already?

The holidays are one big reason. Earlier in the day, Lucky hinted he was sending Jenn and their kids out of town after the New Year to see grandma. When Joker nodded, I sensed he was thinking the same thing for his wife, Amanda, and their kids. Whether Darby will agree to flee was an entirely different situation. She isn't really a chick into taking orders.

The assumption is that Trigger plans to wait until after the holidays. All our assuming is based on Madden's word, and I don't trust the guy.

"You need to chill," Ford warned earlier in the day. I still hear his words later while planning for Thanksgiving dinner.

Oblivious to the impending bloodshed, Bebe and Lula decide to wear matching red Christmas sweaters. The kid looks cute, but mommy is causing my dick to tear through my jeans. Sure, I think I hide my lust. Then Bebe laughs in a way that says she's got my number. Lula laughs too. The kid loves when her mom is happy. I know how she feels.

Bebe convinces me to wear a red tee so I'll match them. My shirt has a small tear under the armpit, and her fingers tease it often on the drive to the restaurant. I swear she's doing everything possible to rile me up on a night when I need to play the sane family man.

Ford isn't doing any better at keeping his brain off fucking. He hurries into Apron Strings, looking like he put on his pants only a few minutes earlier. With her flushed cheeks, Shay's clearly been fucked very recently.

"Pervert," I grumble at Ford, who shrugs.

"I'm sorry my kids can be alone for longer than yours. Don't hate what I have, turd."

I catch Bebe giving me a look that makes my dick painfully hard. Glaring at her, I can't imagine what she's thinking by teasing me in front of Lula. Not until Marcy arrives do I realize what her look means.

Bebe isn't horny or tempting me. She loves me. She knows my bullshit and doesn't care. Loving me makes her happy. Hell, I'm the fucking guy of her dreams.

"Pax, snap out of it," Marcy says, pulling me into a hug.

All these years, I've never thought of Marcy as our mom. She's more like a fun aunt who enjoyed our crap. We lived with her twice growing up, and the second time stuck. Surviving us through high school, Marcy is a warrior. No doubt I would've kicked teenage Pax's ass after ten minutes.

I introduce Marcy to Bebe and Lula before she's distracted by Ford showing off his fiancée and the boys. Sitting next to Bebe, I wish she wasn't staring at me with such warmth. I don't know how to be what she needs, and the pressure suffocates me again.

"They were good boys," Marcy says, putting a positive spin on our childhood.

Ford is sitting next to Shay when Marcy makes this declaration. He stops looking at his woman long enough to roll his eyes and grin at me on the other end of the table. Even sharing his smile, I'm a live wire of tension now.

For most of the dinner, Marcy talks to the kids. She can't really share honest stories about Ford and me growing up. So she plays grandma by asking a ton of questions. She smiles a lot, like hearing about schoolwork and toys is her idea of great conversation.

While Donnie tells a story about his science project, Bebe uses the restroom. She returns a few minutes later and stands behind me, massaging my shoulders. The move makes Ford glare at me like maybe I have the better woman. Okay, maybe he's not that far into jealousy. He does think Bebe is showing off. My chick makes me feel great and awful at the same time.

I can't handle the pressure of all the family crap while waiting for the killing to begin.
Will I send Bebe and Lula out of town? What if I die and Wolfman comes looking for them?

Months ago, I only really cared about my brother. Now I'm worrying about my allies in the club. Their families too. More than anything, I have this woman giving me a massage and the little girl who smiles whenever I look in her direction. These people love me and expect me to take care of them.

This new life's demands are all too fucking much. Even keeping myself under control for now, I know the stress will either eat me up or send me over the fucking edge. I'm not looking forward to either possibility.

24

Bebe

Rage Monster

Pax stalks through the living room before heading downstairs. He's clearly on edge, but I don't ask why. I figure if he wants to talk, he'll talk. Pax never holds back. When he's happy, the world knows. When he's pissed, the world trembles. I learn this last fact again the hard way.

Lula and I are finishing lunch when Pax disappears downstairs. Suddenly returning to the kitchen, Pax opens cabinets and looks inside before slamming them shut. Every time a door slams, Lula flinches. At first, she seems confused, but her fear grows. I don't blame her. Pax is scaring me too.

"This shit isn't going to work," he says, leaning against the counter. "I felt sorry for you and had you move in, but I fucked up. I can't have you here."

Lula glances back at her room then begins to cry.

"See?" Pax demands. "What the fuck am I doing with a kid in my house? There are toys everywhere, and she's always crying. I can't watch any of my fucking shows because her kid bullshit is always on."

Picking up a crying Lula, I flee to the living room, but Pax follows.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes."

"I'll help you move back to Darby's today."

Cradling my crying baby, I say nothing. The words he's saying sound like lies. The rage on his face is all wrong. This isn't the man I know. He's a stranger now. No, more like a monster. He's no different than Wolfman playing with our feelings because he can. I can't believe I love such a man.

"Are you listening?" he demands again, yelling so loud that Folgers growls.

The dog isn't sure who to growl at, so he makes aggressive moves in a circle just to be safe. I'd find his behavior funny, if Pax wasn't standing over me like a psycho.

"I heard you. We'll pack up."

Carrying Lula past him, I hurry down the hall to her bedroom. She sobs against me. Her little heart is broken by his lies and rage. I sit her on the bed and look around the room. My eyes blurring from the hot tears, I see the pink walls and the sparkly letters spelling out Tallulah. Pax hung them up just yesterday. Now he wants us gone.

No fucking way!

"Lula, stay here and keep the door closed. I'm going to talk to Pax."

My brokenhearted daughter whimpers and reaches for me. She wipes the tears on my cheeks and begs me not to face off with the rage monster in the next room.

Turning on the TV, I hand Lula the
Hello Kitty
doll Darby bought her when we first moved into her house.

"I'll be right back," I promise then kiss her head and leave the room.

The door shut behind me, I'm lost in a daze of fear, anger, and sadness.
What is there to say to Pax? Can he be reasoned with? Should I beg?
I have no plan when I find him in the kitchen.

Both sulking, Pax and Folgers stare at one another. The man I love and hate glances at me when I approach. He's ready to say something mean, but I beat him to it.

My hand burns the moment it makes contact with his cheek.

"Fuck you!" I yell.

Pax opens his mouth to say something, but I slap him again.

"Shut the fuck up with your childish bullshit, you stupid fucking loser! If you don't want me anymore, so fucking what? If you're bored of my pussy, go fuck someone else. If you want to ignore me, see if I give a shit. Do whatever the fuck you want to me, but you will not break your promise to Lula. This is her fucking house, and she is not leaving. If you can't stand the sight of me, rip out your eyes or move the fuck out."

Pausing to catch my breath, I slap him when he looks ready to speak. "Oh, and don't you dare pretend your childish bullshit is because of that little girl. Your problems are with me, but you're too much of a little fucking coward to admit it. Stupid fuck."

I stop slapping him and wait for him to hit me back. My mind is already planning my response to any violence. If he lays a hand on me, I'll grab a nearby chair and hit him.

Pax's cheek is red where I slapped him, but otherwise he looks fine. I should have hit him harder.

"What happened to your spelling?" he asks, giving me a dirty look.

"We're not moving out."

"Fine."

"If you fucking scream at my daughter again, I'm telling Darby, and she'll tell Joker, and he'll kick your ass. He might need help to do it, but he'll get it done."

"Whatever you say, bitch," Pax mutters.

"You can't hurt me," I say, even though I'm crying. "The man I cared about doesn't scream at little kids or act like a fucking psycho. You're not him, and I don't give a S H I T what you think. I cared about a lie not the loser standing in front of me."

"You done?"

I wipe my face and look around. Folgers is staring at me. The poor dog is edgy about his people freaking out. This morning started quiet, and now everything's gone to crap, and he doesn't know what the hell happened. I know how he feels.

"I'm going to Lula's room and calm her down. You better talk to someone who thinks your B U L L S H I T is cute."

Turning around to leave, I hear Pax mutter under his breath, "I can think of a few chicks who love my bullshit. My cock too."

"Go then."

Pax stomps downstairs and slams the door. I return to Lula's room where she's hiccup-crying. Joining her on the bed, I caress her head while she leans into me. The TV is on, but our minds aren't on the
Little Mermaid
. The man we love just trampled on our hearts. Life feels unbearably hard now, and no Disney movie will fix the pain.

Needing reinforcements, I text Shay then Darby. I don't know what to say except Pax sucks. They both reply with declarations of girl power and the promise to be over in a few minutes.

I tell myself I don't need to cry. I have friends, a healthy little girl, and a home, despite what Pax just pulled. I even try telling myself Pax isn't the jerk I slapped. The man I love got scared and lost himself. I even hope he'll find his way back. Despite my happy thoughts, my mood worsens, and I'm soon hiccup-crying too.

25

Pax

Steaming Pile of Turds

Ford is leaving his house when I speed by on my Harley. So pissed I can't think straight, I don't even slow down or signal him. My cheek burns from Bebe's hand. She didn't hit me hard, but likely as hard as she could. I hate her right then. I hate the kid too. I hate the whole fucking world.

Arriving at the batting cages, I stalk past the stupid teenagers jumping around in one cage. They're always hanging around here, and I want to pound their faces into the ground.

I set the pitching machine then begin swinging. The teenagers are still laughing, and I think about scaring them. Ford beats me to it by banging on the cage when he passes by. They get quiet on cue.

Ford enters my cage, and I wait for him to speak. Once he opens his mouth, I swing my bat.

My brother doesn't even flinch as the bat slams into the fence next to his head. The best I get from him is a sigh as I swing again and again. The bat misses him, just like he knows it will.

"You feel better?" he asks when I stop swinging.

"This is your fault. I'd blame Shay, but you're the one who should fucking know better."

"I'm assuming you fucked up something with your little family. Want to explain how the hell that's my fault?"

"Things were good before Shay showed up. We were hanging out and having fun and things were perfect."

"They were easy," Ford says, leaving the cage and walking to the picnic tables. He sits on top of one then continues, "Nothing mattered. Dying wasn't such a scary thing when we had nothing to lose."

"We had each other."

"Don't make this about us. You're fucked because you had a shitty mom and no dad. We both got fucked, but you got fucked harder."

I throw the bat at him, but he catches it easily.
Asshole.

"How bad did you fuck up?" he asks.

Sitting on the table, I mutter, "I want them out of the house, but Bebe won't leave."

"Why should she? You ordered her to live there. You gave the kid a room and told her to think of the place as home. Just because you realize you don't like playing family man, why should they leave?"

"Then I'll leave."

Ford shoves me half off the table then sighs. "What's the problem exactly?"

"What do you think?"

"You've had a thing for Bebe since that first night. Now you realize you were obsessed with an idea and the real shit ain't doing it for you."

"That's not fucking it."

"Yeah, I think it fucking is."

"Well you're a fucking idiot then, aren't you, fucker?" I growl.

"I don't fucking think I am. I think you're being a little shithead."

Grunting, I think about Lula crying at the kitchen table.

"I don't know why you think you can be a dad," I say, shoving him. "You don't know how to raise kids."

"It's not hard. You feed them and make sure they're safe. It's not like they're babies. The boys know how to bathe themselves and wipe their asses. Not complicated at all."

"Well, I can't do it with Lula."

"Why not? Even if you don't want Bebe, the kid looks up to you."

"She's already trying to read, and she ain't in school yet. How the hell can I help her with any of that? You know I read for shit."