Broken Memphis (2 page)

"I'm here for Bebe Green," I say when no one speaks.

"She's mine."

"How do you figure?" I ask, crossing my arms.

The Mohawk flock shifts uneasily, thinking my arms crossing is a sign of aggression. The idiots should be more worried about when my hands rest near my weapons.

"Wolfman owes me," Taz says. "He's getting out of prison soon and making things square. The chick and her kid are my payment."

Whenever I think of hairy-as-fuck Wolfman ever touching the prettier-than-pretty Bebe, I get a little nauseous. She's too damn hot for that guy. Too good in every single fucking way, but they share a history that's shitting all over the present.

"She doesn't belong to him, so he can't give her to you."

Taz stretches so his shiny nipple rings shake. I try not to stare, but they're weirdly hypnotic.
Is this how he cons his followers into worshipping him? Will I shave my hair into a Mohawk soon and join his cult now that I've witnessed the holy rings?

"Who is she to you?"

"She's my brother's fiancée's best friend," I say, running my hand through my shoulder-length blond hair. "So we're tight and shit. Now where are Bebe and the kid?"

"She's around, but she ain't leaving. I'm owed what I'm owed."

"Listen here," I say, trying to sound friendly, but failing because I don't try hard. "We don't need to make this messy. We both want something, so I say we trade."

Taz sizes me up. "Trade what?"

"My people for your person."

"You got one of my guys? Let him rot."

"Naw, it ain't one of your guys."

"Fucker, I don't care who it is. I'm owed money, and that girl and her kid are how Wolfman wants to settle up."

"You don't care?" I say, scratching my beard. "That's cold. I mean, doesn't everyone love their mom?"

My mom doesn't mean shit to me. She was never around when I was growing up, and I can't remember any particularly fond memories of her. Hell, I don't even know if she's still alive. Yet Taz's twitching jaw tells me that he loves his mommy. Loves her so much he goes stupid and reaches for his gun.

Smiling at the weapon, I know he won't shoot me. Not if he wants his mommy back. "I have a picture of her looking pissed off in her nightdress. Wanna see it?"

"Fucker, I oughta kill you."

"Yeah, go ahead. I promise you'll get chunks of your mommy in the mail. When her head arrives, that'll be the day my boys show up and skin you. You know I don't work alone. Yeah, I'm a guy with friends too."

Giving him a wink, I slowly reach for my phone. "Wanna see your mom?"

"I could just exchange you for my mom."

"Naw, I ain't interested in playing hostage, asshole."

Pressing a button on my phone, I ring up the bomb Madden set up on one of Taz's cars. The explosion isn't big. Doesn't need to be to scare the shit out of everyone in the house and likely people a block over.

"Don't you worry about the pigs heading this way, Taz. They didn't hear nothing. They won't hear your mom begging either."

Taz gives me a real nasty look, and I try not to laugh. The dweeb is nothing more than a stupid kid playing tough guy. Acing
Grand Theft Auto
don't make him a thug.

"Bring out the bitch and her kid," he says to one of his kiddie goons.

I warn myself not to react to seeing Bebe. Years ago, a guy shoved a gun barrel against my head, and Ford never even blinked. He didn't seem to give a shit if I ended up dead. My brother knows how to play the badass. I need to do the same when faced with a scared Bebe.

Knowing I'll probably show something when she enters the room, I look at my nails instead. One of the fingers got banged up at the batting cages, so the nail is black now. Waiting for it to fall off, I hope to gross out Shay.

Bebe stumbles into the room, holding Lula. I glance up to find her surprised to find me. Bebe also looks relieved. The hope in her eyes makes me feel great. Her opinion matters too much, but I can't shake off the need. Thinking about her relief distracts me from the black eye hiding behind her long, wavy brown hair. I'm not distracted for long before the thought of setting the house on fucking fire in vengeance sounds good.

"Here's my problem," Taz says, tapping the gun barrel to his head. "Wolfman owes me money. They're his payment. You have my mom, okay, but that ain't much of a trade. Since the kid belongs as much to Wolfman as the bitch, why don't I keep her? I'll pimp her out just until I make back what he owes."

Bebe makes a strangled noise and wraps Lula tighter in her arms. Seeing her fear pisses me off, but my temper won't keep the girls safe. I think about Ford again and how he plays with people in these situations. He's a manipulative fucker.

"You know, I'd be more pissed if I was you," I tell Taz. "Wolfman set you up, and you're sitting here worrying about your damn mommy."

"How do you figure he set me up?"

Even though I don't find any of this shit funny, I laugh. "Wolfman knows Bebe is protected by the club. Like you said, he's about to get out of prison, and I'm guessing he wants to get rid of the competition. Meaning you," I say, pointing at Taz. "He cons you into grabbing Bebe, figuring the club will want payback. We take this shit personal, so we kill you and your baby badasses here. Then he gets out and takes your place."

"Won't you want to kill him too?"

"Oh, Wolfman probably didn't think I'd come in all nice this way. He assumed we'd tear your house apart and never learn about him. Yeah, he screwed you pretty hard, and I bet he didn't even pay for dinner."

Taz looks around at the others. The wide-eyed kiddie freaks are working shit out. Not caring about their confusion, I gesture for Bebe to join me.

"Here's the deal," I say to Taz, "you'll back the fuck off. I'm walking out of here with Bebe and her kid. If you give me any shit, I'll make sure your mom gets banged up like you did to my brother's fiancée's best friend. We understand each other?"

The douche isn't sure what to do, but I don't wait for him to decide. I wrap an arm around Bebe's shoulders and guide her out of the house and to my waiting car. Opening the door to the SUV, I never look back at the eyes on me. I'm not afraid of dying. If they kill me, I'm dead and I don't need to worry. If they don't kill me, well that's fine too.

As I pull the SUV out of the driveway, Bebe whispers to a spaced-out Lula.

"What's wrong with her?" I ask.

"They gave her beer."

Bebe wants to cry. Her lower lips trembles until she bites it hard enough to draw blood. Seeing her heartbroken, I want to fuck up some people and give Bebe revenge. I don't think she wants payback. Looking tired, she probably just wants to rest.

"Did they hurt you more than the black eye?"

"No."

I just nod, too pissed to do anything else. Arriving at Darby's house, I get a weird feeling in my gut.

"You took care of the kid," I say to Bebe. "Those people are scum, but you kept her safe."

Bebe looks at her drunk kid then at me. "Thank you for coming."

"I take care of my friends."

A forced smile is all I get until Bebe reaches out and places her hand on mine. That's when I realize I'm shaking with rage. Hating Taz and his followers, I plan to kill them all, but it won't be soon enough.

Bebe watches me in the dark until Darby hurries outside and helps her from the SUV. I let them speak while I dial Lucky and Taco.

"I got them home safe," I say when Lucky picks up. "How's the old lady?"

"She ain't that old, and she aims her kicks for the balls, man."

"Are you injured? Should I call an ambulance?" I say, nearly laughing.

Lucky grunts. "Funny shit. Are we letting Mom go?"

"Sure, but her boy ain't long for this world. You might want to tell her to take lots of pictures while he's still breathing."

"Fair enough."

Once Lucky hangs up, I look at where Bebe walks towards the porch with Darby. I panic at the thought of her going inside the house. There's no logic behind me feeling this way. I just want her back in the SUV. Since I usually get what I want, I hurry after the women.

"Pack up," I tell Bebe.

The women look at me like I'm crazy.

"Want me to hold the kid while you get your crap?" I ask, ignoring their expressions.

"What are you babbling about?" Darby grumbles, looking underdressed in only jeans and a gray sweatshirt.

"You've got too many people in this house, and Bebe ain't safe here. She can stay at my place."

"I'm not letting these girls go to your dump."

"My house ain't a dump. It's got plenty of space. A hell of a lot more than here with all your charity cases."

"So I'd be the only charity case at your place then," Bebe whispers while adjusting Lula in her arms.

"I told you I take care of friends. I mean, you're my brother's fiancée's best friend."

Sighing, Darby yanks me off the porch. "Let me talk to you."

"Go pack," I say to Bebe. "Just enough for tonight. We'll get your other crap tomorrow."

Darby yanks me harder until we're standing next to the SUV. I shove my hands into my pockets and wait for the speech.

"What are you doing?" she demands, fighting with the wind blowing her black hair.

"Her man is pimping her out from behind bars. What do you think will happen when he gets out?"

"He isn't her man anymore.

"Wolfman doesn't care. He was willing to sell that little kid to pay debts. He's a fucker, and Bebe's not safe here."

"I can handle my own."

Frowning down at Darby, I ignore her pissy expression. "She's wearing a pretty black eye, so maybe you can't."

"You can't watch her every moment either."

"I don't have to. I just move her into my place and tell people she's my pussy. If they hurt her, they're fucking with me. I'd say that's scarier than you and your shotgun."

Darby's expression shifts into a sad mommy look. "She'll never be your pussy for real, Pax."

"What makes you think I'm interested in her pussy? She has a kid, so her pussy is probably ruined. No offense to your pussy that also survived a kid passing through it."

Narrowing her eyes, Darby wags her finger at me. "I'm onto you. Now that Ford has himself a woman, you want to copy him. It's what you've done all your life. I bet if he starts going bald, you'll get a comb over, just so you can match."

"You're funny," I say, smiling. "Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you say something funny to cheer up Bebe while you're helping her pack up?"

Darby digs in her heels, puts her hands firmly on her curvy hips, and gives me a frown from hell.

"No."

Even though thinking isn't my strong suit, I decide to try logic on her. "You're being selfish by keeping her and the kid here when you don't have the space. I know you like playing martyr, but that ain't cool."

"You dick."

"Fine, I'll try it all nice and charming like your ex-old man does," I say, wrapping an arm around her tight shoulders. "You got those two reformed hookers living here, and they got those kids. That's a lot of people in one house. On the other hand, I have those two empty bedrooms on the top floor. One of them has bunk beds from the boys, and I could get other crap for the kid."

"She has a name," Darby mutters, but I sense her mellowing out.

"Lula could have her own room. Bebe too. I have a backyard where the kid could run around. She could also play with Folgers. With them at my place, you'd have more space for your charity cases."

"You're a charming fucker, aren't you?" she says, shoving me away from her. "Fine, but if you do wrong by her or Lula, I'm kicking your ass. Don't think your brother can stop me either. I know people."

Following Darby back to the porch, I wear my winning smile. That lack of a poker face sends Bebe into a wide-eyed panic.

"It'll be fine. Pack up a few things for the night," Darby reassures her. "He'll change his mind the minute Lula gets too loud or he wants to have an orgy at the house."

Bebe gives me a resigned frown before disappearing inside to pack. I know she thinks I'm an asshole, and she isn't wrong. While I'll never be a hero, she could do worse in Little Memphis.

3

Bebe

A Way with Words

Ten minutes after we arrive at Pax's tri-level house, I'm cuddled in bed with Lula in Ford's old room. My right eye throbs even after taking Tylenol at Darby's. Lula took the kid version of the meds, so she's ready to crash. Yet every time I move, she whimpers, "Mommy," and clutches to me. The fear in her voice breaks my heart.

My body aches to shower and scrub away the gross feel from that dirty house. I also want to find out what the hell Pax is thinking making me move into his place. Despite my desire to sneak out of bed, I have a scared baby holding me for security. Lula falls asleep with a little frown on her sweet face, and I stare at her until my eyes can't remain open. Sleep finally comes, and I dream of grocery shopping with Pax, who takes everything out of my cart and makes me buy something else.
Even in my dreams, he pisses me off.

I sleep well, only waking when Lula rubs my cheek. At first, I don't remember where I am. Once I see her scared face, the horrible day all comes back to me.

"I have to go potty," she whispers. "I'm going to have an accident."

Carrying her to the bathroom, I sit on the floor while she uses the toilet. Lula hasn't been potty trained long. Every time she gets the hang of it, we move and she regresses. She wants to be a big girl so bad, but our life never makes it easy.

After I pee, we wash our faces then plan to brush our teeth. There's no toothbrush, so I use my finger. Lula finds this funny, so I squirt toothpaste on her finger, and she imitates me.

We leave the bathroom and head to the kitchen where I hope we find food. A recently showered Pax looks up from the newspaper to smile at us.

"Our roommates are here," he says to Folgers.

I glance at the Rottweiler and Shepherd mix wagging his tail. The dog is big, goofy, and a little bit terrifying. Not unlike Pax.