Kid: Cerberus MC Book 2 (12 page)

I nod. “She’s very upset at the loss of Alec.”

“She’s upset she lost her free ride,” she counters.

I roll my lips between my teeth and take a calming breath.

“I’m here today, Mrs. Sanchez to see about getting her things she left at the apartment.”

“I was going to throw them out but saw reason when Alejandro suggested we donate the items. No sense in throwing out decent clothes when there are people in town who could use them.” She steps back into the house. “They’re in the garage. I have to open it from the inside.”

She closes the door, and I walk toward the garage, waving at Snatch to come help me. I don’t know how much stuff we have, but I’m willing to load up an entire house just to put a smile on Khloe’s face.

I hear the rumble of the garage door and watch as it slowly ascends.

“They didn’t throw them away?” Snatch asks rubbing a rough hand over his forearms.

“Thankfully, no,” I say as Mrs. Sanchez enters the garage from an inside door. “Those bags there,” she says pointing to three trash bags of clothes.

“This is everything?” I ask. How does a seventeen-year-old girl only have three bags of belongings?

“That’s it,” she says curtly.

I nod and scoop up two bags, leaving one for Snatch to grab.

“Thank you, Mrs. Sanchez.” I’ll ask Khloe to inventory her stuff tonight. If anything’s missing, I’ll be back. Grieving or not, you don’t take advantage of others.

“She ruined our son,” she calls out as we walk down the driveway. “She’ll ruin you, too.”

I ignore her and continue to the truck.

I didn’t ask Kid what he was planning to do when he brought me back to the clubhouse. I didn’t want to be alone, but after spending the entire day with him, I didn’t feel like I had a right to continue to monopolize all of his time.

It’s been hours since he left saying he had some things to take care of, and I hate the loneliness. I hate hearing the other people in the house laughing and joking with each other. I’ve always been the outsider to protect myself, to stay away from the people who wanted to do nothing more than insult me to make themselves feel better.

I was an outcast with Alec, and that suited me just fine. Now I’m in the middle of a clubhouse with people I don’t know, alone. I know if I went out and joined them they wouldn’t be petty assholes like the kids at school; they’re all adults and seem to be past that immature bullshit, but I sit alone in my room, torturing myself with loneliness.

The TV is on but turned down low, and I’ve finally decided to go to bed. The sun is down, so that seems late enough. I hate that I want to sleep all the time, but when I sleep, I don’t hurt as much. My dreams are of Alec and the fun times we had just hanging out and goofing around. Last night I dreamed of Kid.

In that dream I didn’t feel Alec’s loss, rather I felt loved, not abandoned. In that dream there was hope. Hope for my future. Hope for something more than just the bleak existence I feel when I’m awake.

A soft knock at the door jolts me from my near sleep. It swings open as I’m sitting up to go answer it. I see Kid standing in the doorway holding a basket. I knew it would be him. Other than light conversation while eating, no one else has approached me.

He smiles and carries the basket inside.

“It’s a little early for bed isn’t it?” he asks setting the laundry basket down on the end of the bed.

I look inside quickly. Shocked, I hold up my favorite t-shirt. “These are mine,” I say shuffling through the neatly folded clothes.

I watch him walk back outside, grab another basket full of my clothes and brings them inside.

He sets it at my feet. My cheeks redden as I reach down to the scraps of lace and silk on the top of the second basket. Reaching in I pull out a pair of sexy, black underwear. My face falls, not knowing who they belong to. “These aren’t mine,” I tell him holding the scrap between two fingers. My chest aches at knowing they probably belong to the redhead I’ve yet been introduced to.

“Well, Sweet Girl,” he says with a smirk. “I got all of your clothes from the Sanchez’s house. They were wrinkled so I figured I’d wash them for you.”

“Still doesn’t explain these,” I say reaching down and pulling more underwear and bras from the top of the pile. “These aren’t mine,” I tell him again.

“They are now. The pairs you had were,” he scrunches his nose up. “Not suitable. So, I had Snatch run and get you some new things while I took care of the rest.”

My eyes widen. “You sent the guy covered in tattoos to buy me lingerie?”

He gives me an exasperated huff. “I wasn’t too happy about him picking your things out either, but Rose and Emmalyn weren’t here.”

“You didn’t have to wash my clothes,” I say softly.

I stand from the bed and carry the basket from the floor, placing it on the dresser. I turn to grab the second basket to find Kid standing behind me with it.

“I wanted to help,” he says handing it to me. “Want me to help get them in the drawers?”

I hadn’t even considered unloading them. Putting my things away makes this seem more permanent, and I haven’t allowed myself to think that I’d be able to stay here very long.

“Sure,” I say.

Within minutes, we have the laundry baskets empty. I watch as he stacks them within one another and places them in the bottom of the closet.

“The laundry room is in the basement. I’ll need to get you some hangers if there’s anything you’d rather have hung than folded,” he says closing the closet door.

“Sounds good,” I tell him walking back and getting back in bed. “Thank you, again.”

“No big deal.” He looks at me and to the far side of the bed and back again to me. “Mind if I join you?”

More perfect words have never been spoken.

“Sure,” I say as calmly as I can, even though my heart begins pounding in my chest.

He makes quick work of his boots and settles in on the opposite side of the bed from me.

“More
Breaking Bad
?” I ask pressing buttons on the remote and pulling up Netflix.

“Sounds good to me.”

He leans against the headboard, eyes facing forward to the TV. The foot and a half between us feels like a million miles. Both kisses we’ve shared have been nothing more than a brush of soft lips, but I can’t help but want more. More of his lips on mine. More than his hand in mine or on the small of my back. I haven’t let myself want
more
for a long time.

Unable to focus on the movie and not wanting to get caught staring at him like a crazy woman, I pull out my phone. I feel his eyes shift to me.

“You should give me your number,” he says.

I look up at him and watch as he pulls his own phone from the front pocket of his jeans.

“Can’t,” I tell him.

“You may need to get ahold of me at some point, Khloe. I want you to have my number as well.”

“I wouldn’t have an issue with you having my number, Kid, but this phone doesn’t have service. I was covered on Alec’s plan. Seems his parents turned that off too.”

I clear my throat, refusing to let the pain show again. It kills me how much Alec’s parents hate me. I never expected them to pay my cell phone bill, but I also didn’t think they’d turn the phones off so quick. I can’t even call his phone any longer to hear his voicemail message.

“Come here,” he says noticing the change in my mood.

I scoot across the bed, closing the distance between us. I curl into his side and love the way his strong arm feels wrapped around my back.

“I’ll get you another phone,” he whispers against the top of my head.

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t expect you to take care of me.” He is though. I have no money, no job, no plans for my future.

He doesn’t say anything back, only squeezes me a little bit harder.

I close my eyes and let myself imagine that he’s mine, and I’m his. In my brief fantasy, I’m all that he sees. I’m not a seventeen-year-old kid, but the air he breathes, the one he comes home to each night. I let myself picture a world where he thinks about me when we’re not side by side.

He laughs at something on the TV, jerking me out of my ridiculous fantasy.

I lift my head pulling his attention from the show and gaze at his face. I see his eyes dart to my mouth and without a second thought, I lean in to kiss him. I’m just a hair’s breadth away from his lips when I feel his hand in my hair, pulling me back. I groan at the sensation it sends down my back.

“Don’t,” he whispers.

“You don’t want to kiss me?” My bravado takes a nosedive.

“We can’t,” he says huskily.

“I’m not a child,” I say lowering my eyes to his chest rather than the plush lips I want against my own.

“You’re not eighteen either,” he says shifting me, so I’m back against his chest.

I guess I should be glad he didn’t shove me away completely.

“But you’re interested,” I state testing my luck.

“You have no idea,” he says with a light chuckle.

Khloe is sleeping soundly against my chest. We’ve somehow sunk lower on the bed, no longer sitting, but more of a lounged position. Her arm is crossed low on my stomach, and her leg is over mine. It’s comfortable, natural feeling almost.

I know if I stay here, with her wrapped all the way around me, I’ll never get any sleep. The feel of her warm breath on my neck and the pressure of her body against mine is the sweetest torture I think I’ve ever endured.

It takes me at least twenty minutes to slowly and methodically remove myself from the bed without waking her up. I stand above her, watching her sleep. I want to stay, but I know I have to leave to maintain my sanity.

I creep out of her room and close the door softly behind me. Just as I’m thinking of what I should do to take care of the hard-on I’ve had since walking into her room, Snapper appears at the end of the hall, as if being beckoned.

“Hey there, stranger,” she coos. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Been busy,” I answer.

“Want some company?” she asks sliding up to me.

Any other day the answer would be a resounding yes. Tonight the idea of her, or anyone else for that matter, doesn’t sound appealing at all. Clearly I’ve lost my mind and Khloe is some kind of siren or succubus of some sort.

“Not feeling it tonight, Snap.” I don’t even extend the offer to another night because in my mind I know there won’t be another moment spent with her so long as Khloe is in the picture.

She reaches down and brazenly cups my cock.

“You feel ready to me,” she says in what I’m sure she thinks sounds seductive when in fact she sounds desperate and needy.

I grab her wrist firmly but not enough to hurt her. “That’s not for you, doll.” I kiss her forehead as a consolation and walk away.

She huffs behind me and grumbles something under her breath. She’s resourceful, and there are plenty of other guys here tonight to scratch whatever type of itch she may have. Snapper isn’t the jealous, vindictive type, so I know there won’t be any hard feelings.

I lock myself in my room and hit the shower. I’m pretty sure jerking off to the images of Khloe I have stored in my head are almost as bad as touching her in real life. I also know trying to think of something else while I stroke myself will work two ways. One, I couldn’t replace her image with someone else, and two, if I could I wouldn’t be able to finish the task.

I’ve had this horrid ache in my balls since she tried to kiss me earlier, and I somehow managed to prevent it from happening. Resisting her on the docks earlier was not easy, but also not the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Being able to keep it to just a sweet kiss on her bed while she’s wrapped in my arms? Impossible.

Her name is on my lips when I coat the wall of the shower. My longing for her remains even when the ache in my balls subside.

Restless, I dress quickly and head outside. Being close to her room and not crawling back in bed with her is inevitable. I notice the light on in the garage even at this late of an hour.

“Can’t sleep either?” I ask Shadow as I pull each of us a beer from the fridge.

I hand him his after he wipes his greasy hands on a rag.

He doesn’t answer me, opting to drink half the beer in one gulp instead. He sets the beer to the side and begins tinkering with his motorcycle again. He keeps this thing in pristine condition, so I know there’s also something on his mind for him to be out here in the middle of the night just doing random shit to it.