Broken Memphis (7 page)

"Little Memphis has never been a safe place, but things are ugly these days," Pax mutters. "You should always be careful about locking the doors and making sure you're not followed when you run errands."

"Okay."

Pax finally focuses on me again, and I realize his tension has turned into a hunger. The intensity in his eyes makes me wonder if he'll force me if I say no.

"Does Lula sleep deep?" he asks in a low, needy voice.

The question crawls over my skin like hot kisses, leaving my body craving his touch.

"No, she wakes up easy," I lie.

His gaze still holding mine, Pax nods. He understands I'm rejecting his offer. I wait to see if my choice matters. Pax tugs at the seam of my nightshirt and sighs.

"I like this," he murmurs. "Duckies."

"Perri bought it for my last birthday."

Pax's fingers graze the bare flesh at my waistband. A hot urge stirring in me, I nearly cover my breasts to hide my hard nipples. No way do I want him knowing how much my body betrays me.

"When is your birthday?" he asks, his index finger still teasing my stomach.

"I don't know," I whisper.

His gaze lifting to my lips again, Pax gives me a sly grin. He's not ready to give up on finding relief inside me.

"Is your birthday soon?" he asks, his fingers sliding up my shirt like an unhurried spider.

My mind finally unfreezes. "It's in April."

"I'll remember that."

"No, you probably won't."

I place my hand on his and stop him from reaching my breast. Pax leans back against the counter and scratches at his blond beard.

"I could go to Suede and shake off this weird feeling I have now. Problem is the only girl at the bar who will hook up with me is Maggie. She doesn't take guys back to her place, and I can't bring her here."

Pax stops talking, as if he's waiting for me now to say something. I think he hopes I'll rip open my top and do him right there. Though my pussy throbs for me to do just that, I only sigh.

"I'll pick you up a F U C K I N G sympathy card tomorrow while I'm out."

"I like when you spell."

"I like a lot of stuff about you too," I say, stepping back and finally covering my rigid nipples. "See you in the morning."

Pax watches me go, and I feel his gaze on me until I step into the bathroom and shut the door. Only then do I realize I've been holding my breath.

Sitting on the toilet, I rub my tits and struggle to get my body to stop humming for Pax. A very cold shower might help, but he'd hear the water and know I'm in heat. No way in hell am I giving him that kind of power yet.

11

Pax

Manly Nightmares

I don't have bad dreams often. A therapist told me when I was a kid that bad dreams came from insecurities we have when awake.
I'm not insecure.
Things don't scare me. I don't care when bad shit happens to other people. I never let anything bother me enough to have bad dreams.

Until Shay came along and trapped my brother in her steel pussy. Now I have bad dreams a lot, but they were never as bad as this one.

Waking early, I skip my shower since I spent an hour under the water before finally crashing the night before. My dick still hurts from jacking off for so long, but my hands won't give me what I need.

Upstairs, I turn on the coffee then peer into the bedroom where the woman I need is sleeping. Her feet are sticking out of the covers as usual while her face is hidden under all her dark hair. Next to her, Lula sits up.

When the kid sees me, she looks relieved. I think she needs to piss, so I curl my finger to have her come with me. Lula looks tiny crawling out of bed in her pink nightgown and messy hair.

"You need to use the toilet?" I whisper.

Lula nods then stares down the hallway. Waiting for her to get moving, I realize she's scared. Nothing frightened me for long as a kid. Ford and I always rolled with our problems. When we thought the boogeyman was hiding under our beds, we took our bats and hunted it.

Lula isn't tough like I was though. She's soft like her mom. Liking that quality about them, I don't want Lula growing up to be mean like some girls do. I hope she grows up to be smart and kind.

I hold out my index finger, and she takes it as we walk to the bathroom. After I whisper I'll wait at the open door, Lula does her business then washes her hands and returns to me.

In the kitchen, I pour myself a cup of coffee and make her a bowl of cereal. We sit at the kitchen table and relax in silence. A few minutes later, Bebe rushes out of the bedroom in a panic.

"I'm up," she mumbles.

"We're fine. Go get cleaned up before I leave."

"Where you going?" she asks, trying to seem casual.

"I got people to kill."

Lula isn't paying attention. She only has eyes for her mom. I can't understand that sort of love for a parent, but I guess it's how I feel about Ford. To have someone who means everything to you, even though they drive you fucking crazy.

Bebe kisses her daughter on the head and caresses her messy hair. Watching them, I feel sad about my mom never doing that shit with me. I was a cute fucking kid, but I don't remember my mom ever wanting to touch me or Ford the way Bebe needs to touch Lula. They comfort each other in such a beautiful way that I'm ready to fucking kill anyone who so much as inconveniences them.

When Bebe lifts her gaze to mine, she looks tired and still a little startled. There's warmth in her expression and not just because I left her panties drenched the night before. She sees me as a good guy who is sweet to her kid. I like her thinking of me as nice. Being good usually equals weakness, and I sure as hell think Ford's gone soft since meeting Shay.

With Bebe though, I'm willing to be a wuss as long as she looks at me the way she is right now.

I need to leave for breakfast at Hunk O' Love, so I give the sleepy girls a head nod before disappearing out the door. Ford is pulling down his driveway when I pass, and he follows me to the diner.

"Hello, sunshine," he says once we arrive. "You look sexually unsatisfied."

"Do you think Shay would still want you if you lost an eye and needed to wear a patch?"

"My baby isn't shallow."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, pretty boy."

We enter the diner to find everyone already seated and several guys already eating. Trigger is sitting at the end of the table like everyone's favorite sickly grandpa. Even with his rough, sun-beat skin, he looks pale. I also notice his dark eyes seem sunken into his head. His gaze freaks me out, so I decide to avoid looking at him. Then I worry I usually look at him more, and he'll know I'm avoiding him now.

"What the hell happened?" Big Dick asks once the waitress has brought all the food and shuts the door to give us privacy.

Big Dick is one of Trigger's bitches. They met in prison before founding the club. Now they're old men in a young man's business.

"We don't know who took out Taz," Joker says. "If I had to guess, there might be a turf war happening between pimps. Paro's death shook things up, and everyone is now making a play."

Big Dick shrugs. "I guess things will get messy for a while."

Eating my hash browns, I glance up at Ford, who is thinking what I'm thinking. Big Dick is in charge of the West Side. If a turf war breaks loose, his job is to stomp it out. The fucker wanted to burn down the city when his boy was killed. Now he plans to wait shit out. Something's changed, and I doubt the problem is as simple as he's old.

"After Paro and Taz, the next pimp in line to take over is Fleecy. He might be the one making moves, or he could be the one who comes out on top. Either way, we'll check what he's up to lately."

Trigger nods, but he doesn't want Joker sniffing around the West Side. If the old man took out Taz, he won't be happy with people finding out this fact.

Joker deserves an Oscar for his performance at the restaurant. He never flinches, never seems even a tiny bit nervous about his president gunning for him, and he never loses his famous smirk. The guy is a rock, but I'm tense sitting four chairs down from Zombie. Normally, the tall, scary fucker doesn't bother me. After my nightmare, I want to take my bat to his face.

The rest of the breakfast is everyone talking family. This kid did that. That kid did this. I don't care about their fucking kids, so I decide I'll stare at Ford. He refuses to take the bait, but I don't give up. I'm still crazy staring at him when we leave the restaurant.

"If you kiss me," he says, "I'm punching you."

"Bebe is the only person I'm thinking of kissing. For now anyway."

"Big mistake. Once you nail her, she'll think you're together. What happens when you nail the next chick?"

Joker comes up behind me and sighs. "You're going to lose a ball if you piss off Bebe. She has a ball-ripping vibe about her."

"She's a good girl and would never damage such fine balls," I say, waving lovingly at my crotch. "Don't project your crazy women's shit on her."

"You're whipped. When's the wedding?" Bull asks

I roll my eyes while Ford throws an arm around my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"If you really want to know, I had a bad dream."

"Need a hug, little man?"

"Fuck yourself. You might need a dick enlargement for it to feel good though."

"Is there a reason you want to tell us about your dream?"

I hate them all looking at me, but I can't keep my mouth shut. "Yeah, I dreamed I came home and found Bebe and Lula dead. I went across the street and found Ford, Shay, and the boys dead too. I turned to see Zombie right before he shot me in the face. Something about the dream makes me worry that we're waiting too long to hit our enemies."

Bull grunts. "It's probably all the death that makes you nervous."

"Funny, asshole. I don't have nightmares, but this situation is making me tense. Aren't you fuckers tense too?"

Still smiling, Joker nods. "Tomorrow night, we meet our friend at the school. We'll talk details then. Maybe you won't be so nervous afterwards."

"About fucking time."

We all notice Sharpie hanging around too close, trying to listen to our conversation. I look at Bull, who is looking at Joker, who is looking at the mud on his boots.

"I'm taking Bebe and Lula to your restaurant tonight. I want a nice spot where the kid can see the fish tank."

"Are you making a reservation, fuckwit?" Bull asks me.

"I guess. I don't know what it's called. I just know you better get me a good table or I'm shitting on the men's room floor."

Everyone laughs, especially since I'm serious. I've done it before, and I have no problem pulling this trick out of my ass again.

12

Bebe

Ketchup Seduction

Working at the Oregon Hotel felt like a dream when I started three years ago. Before then, I tried Burger King, but always ended up on nights when the place got robbed. I tried working at a laundry mat, but it was robbed a lot too. The Oregon was a paradise even if I had to clean toilets.

The only way to be a maid without letting the job run you down is to take pride in your work. I clean with a purpose, pretending I make a difference by turning a messy room clean again. Yes, I'm an important part of the team.
I matter.

While I prefer to clean alone, guests sometimes stick around to make sure I don't steal anything. I can't be sure this is why the college girls don't leave while I remove their trash and add clean towels.

As I'm wiping down the sink counter, Virginia looks at me. Her blonde hair is tied into two tight French braids. When I check them out for too long, she smiles.

"I learned to braid hair growing up," she says, watching me from the doorway. "Do you know how to make a French braid?"

I shake my head. "My daughter has long hair, and I wish I knew how to do braids."

Virginia nods then snaps at her friend. "Come here, Sage. Let me braid your hair."

Her friend sits down in a chair, and Virginia shows me slowly how to French braid one side then the other.

Hours later, I work on Lula's hair. While the braids aren't anywhere as perfect as the ones Virginia created, I'm desperately in love with what I've accomplished. Lula looks in the mirror and smiles, but she's more interested in the purple flowered dress I bought her.

"We look the same," she says when I slide on my purple dress.

"They were on clearance."

Lula doesn't care about that part. She twirls before running to find Pax. As she keeps him busy, I fix my hair and apply lipstick. Except for my still bruised eye, I look damn good. Not as good as Pax though.

He's wearing black jeans and a white tee. Not a thing dressy about him, but he still sets my body on fire. One day, I'll have him buck naked on a bed, and every inch of his fine body will be at my disposal.

"Keep it in your pants," he whispers walking past me to let Folgers inside before we leave.

Grinning, I help Lula with her coat. Pax checks to make sure Folgers has food then follows us to the SUV. The drive involves me discussing how I learned a new trick that day and Pax hoping the trick was something he could enjoy. I spell cuss words at him for being a pig. He pretends not to know what I'm telling him. Through it all, Lula plays with the skirt of her dress.

At the restaurant, Pax opens my door and helps me out so he can cop a feel.

"You look fucking sexy," he whispers, groping my butt before stepping back. "What? You looked insecure, so I figured you needed a compliment."

Smirking at his bullshit, I whisper, "Thanks."

Pax gives my ass a quick pat then opens the back door and helps Lula out of the car. She fixes her skirt and smiles up at me. I feel like the best person when my baby is happy.

"Ladies," Pax says, taking my hand then Lula's. "I made sure we got a nice table. Ford wouldn't do that. He's an idiot."

I roll my eyes. "Isn't he taller than you?" When Pax glares at me, I laugh behind my hand. "Tall is overrated."