Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2) (28 page)

“Hey, baby,” Star rasps next to me.

Her cool fingers wrap around my forearm, and as much as I want to fling her off of me, I can’t. Not now that I’m staring at my woman—
my
woman who has another man wrapped around her.

I grunt at the bitch, unable to form words. I’m so fuckin’ drunk, having her next to me is kind of a relief. At least her fake tits’ll help break my fall—help me bounce a little instead of landing on the hard as fuck ground. I chuckle as I imagine it in my head. She’d scream like a banshee.

“All the kids are gone. How about we have some fun?” she purrs. It isn’t sexy. It doesn’t make me hard. Although, I don’t think much could at this point. I’ve been drinking non-stop since I woke up this morning.

“Why don’t you do what you do best?
Be a fuckin’ star
,” I suggest. She giggles, and it’s grating on my ears, like nails scratching a chalkboard.

I find an empty chair and plop my ass down. I have a great view of whatever Star plans; but more importantly, I can see every single move Torch and Brentlee make right in front of me. My
brother
. What a fuckin’ joke. He’s nothing but a backstabber. A traitor, ready to move in as soon as he can—before my side of the bed is even cold.
Fucktard
.

I look over Star’s shoulder as she dances seductively in front of me. She’s recruited another whore, and they’re grinding on each other. Something that should be sexy as fuck, but leaves me cold and my dick limp.
No
, my focus is on anger, and it’s directed at a slut and a backstabbing asshole.

I hear her laugh reach my ears and it makes my dick twitch. Then Torch’s hand slides down to her hip; he’s not touching her skin, but he’s touching the place my tattoo is stamped on her.

My
Sniper
brand.

I finally completely lose my shit. I stand and stagger toward them. Kentlee’s eyes widen and she opens her mouth, but before she can warn Brentlee, I have my hand wrapped around her bicep and I turn her around.

“Bates,” she gasps.

Paxton takes a step toward me but I glare at him, making him back down. He can’t interject at the way I handle my woman. She is still that, too. Until I say otherwise, she’s fuckin’
mine
.

“You like his hands on you?” I ask squeezing her arm.

I’m probably handling her too roughly, because I’m so drunk I can’t tell my own strength. She doesn’t speak, her lips clamped tightly and her eyes full of fire.
Fuck
, my cock goes hard at the sight.

I grab her loose-fitting shirt and wrench it up, exposing her stomach and her tits. I can hear that conversation has ceased around us, everybody is watching and waiting for the drama to unfold. I’ve been a ticking time bomb since I shot her good for nothing ex-asshole in the back of his head.

“Everybody take a fucking look. This is my name, right here. This bitch is mine. This other one,” I yank her body around to expose her
Bates
ink. “Is my legal name. She’s mine. My Old Lady, my woman. Any brother thinks he can touch what’s mine has another thing coming.”

“Snipe,” Vault murmurs from behind me.

I spin around to see his sweet wife Rosie wrapped in his arms. She’s looking at me with concern, but Vault is looking at me with disgust. I don’t give a fuck. They can shove it up their asses.

“Shut the fuck up,” I bark. “This cunt is mine until I say otherwise. Any brother thinks about getting his dick wet in my snatch will have to deal with me; and trust me, you won’t be leaving the fight walking,” I slur staring at Torch.

“That’s enough,” Fury announces.

It’s only then that my eyes leave Torch’s and I see that LeeLee is crying. When I look down at Brentlee, she’s crying as well, her fingers covering her lips and her body shaking. I push her away from me and she falls to the ground. Nobody makes a move to help her. Her shirt is still askew and one of her bra-clad tits is hanging out, but she’s frozen to her spot, her horrified eyes on me.

“You share your cunt with any other man, I’ll slit your throat,” I growl before I turn around and walk away.

I need to get away before I actually do something instead of just threaten. I walk past Star and she’s looking at me in horror.

“Still want to ride my cock for life, bitch?” I spew. She shakes her head.
Good
. I didn’t want her nasty ass anyway.
Maybe now she’ll stay away from me.

I go straight to my room and I drink until I finally pass out.

Fuck everybody.

Fuck my life.

I’m such a piece of shit.

Brentlee

Paxton reaches down to help me up, but I bat his hand away. I’d hate to get my throat slit for looking funny at him. Bates is such a fucking asshole. I fix my shirt and look around. Everybody is staring at me, their eyes wide—some concerned, but mostly curious.

“It isn’t the first time I’ve been threatened with having my throat slit, carry on,” I say, waving my hands around.

I hear a few chuckles and the music is turned back up. People go about their business and I turn to my sister who is sobbing.

“Brentlee,” she mutters.

“I’m fine,” I assure.

“I’ve never seen him like that before. Never,” she blubbers.

I’ve never seen Bates like that, but I’ve seen his father like that.
Once
. I snuck over to try and get Bates to hang out late one Friday night. I hadn’t seen him at school, and I missed him. When I approached their house, there were lights on, so I peeked into the kitchen and I saw his father beating the shit out of his mother. He called her every name in the book, then I watched as Bates tried to interfere. His father knocked him around a little and sent him to his room.

Then, his mom and dad fucked right there in the kitchen. She had blood and bruises all over her face. I ran away and was sick for days about it. When I tried to talk to Bates about his father, he closed down. He just told me he was a mean drunk and that he couldn’t wait to leave.

This is the first time I have ever seen Bates resemble his father. It’s terrifying. I don’t want that. Not again. I’ve been there; except Scotty didn’t have an excuse. He didn’t drink, he was just a douche in general.

“Pax, can you take me home?” I ask.

“You sure you want to go back there?” he asks, furrowing his brows.

“He can’t even walk straight. He won’t be coming back tonight.”
If ever
, I think.

I promise Kent that I’ll call her in the morning and I leave with Paxton. We don’t speak the whole ride home. I look out the window, watching the darkness fly by, catching a glimpse of a tree every so often.

“If I could have stopped him, I would have. I hate that he treated you like that,” Paxton says.

I shake my head. If Paxton was passionate about his feelings for me, he would have stopped him, but he isn’t. Which is fine. I don’t want him to be. I’m not passionate about him, either. He’s my friend, nothing more. Well, he’s a friend I fucked once when we were young, nothing more.

“It’s fine. It’s your world and your rules.”

“It’s not fine. He didn’t need to be such a damn dick,” Paxton growls. It makes me laugh.

“I have a thing for dicks,” I shrug.

“You really need to pick better men, babe. I’d like to say I wouldn’t be a dick, but let’s be honest here,” he laughs.

“Thanks for the ride; and thank you for everything last night,” I say softly. Pax wraps his hand around my neck and squeezes lightly.

“You deserve the best, babe,” he murmurs.

“So do you,” I whisper.

“It ain’t you?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

“No, it’s not me. I’m a damn disaster. I need to get my head on straight before I think about anything. Plus, I have this crazy bastard that thinks he owns me. He’s even tattooed his name on my body,” I smirk.

“Crazy fuckin’ bikers,” he grunts. I kiss his cheek and thank him for the ride.

Paxton waits while I walk inside of the house and lock the door behind me. I lean against the door and sigh heavily.
What a fucking horrible couple of days
. I can’t even wrap my head around everything that has transpired.

I don’t even want to think about Bates’ crazy, jealous, drunk rant.
What a dick
. I don’t need that shit in my life. I definitely don’t need it in my daughter’s. Maybe it’s good that I saw it now, rather than later. When he said he’d changed, he was not wrong. Hard liquor is not his friend, and I have no desire to be around him when he’s like that.

Once I’ve cleaned my face of my thick makeup and have taken a hot shower, I change into a pair of panties and an oversized shirt that smells way too much like Bates. I crawl into bed and I look around at the room. I can’t be around his things and in his home. It will only give him more of a hold over me. I need to be as free of him as possible.

I close my eyes and will myself to sleep.

I need to rest.

I need a few hours of nothingness.

I need for my brain to shut down. I need a few hours just to breathe.

The future terrifies me.

I have no clue what’s coming, and it seems like something new is being thrown at me at every single turn in my road.

Sniper

I
blink my eyes open and look around.
Fuck,
it’s daytime already. I grab my phone and try to focus on the numbers. It’s noon, on a Friday. Too bad it’s a week later than I thought it was. I’ve lost a whole fucking week, and I have no clue what happened in that timeframe. I scrub my hand over my face. My beard is longer and my hair is probably a fucking train wreck.

I stumble into the bathroom down the hall from my room and step into the shower. I turn the water on cold. I need to sober the fuck up. I wash quickly then get out.

I walk back to my room and throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before sliding my cut on. I’ve probably missed at least one church meeting, and god knows what the fuck else. I don’t give much of a fuck. My hand itches to grab the bottle of Jack on the floor, and that’s how Fury finds me after he slams my door open.

“My office, now,” he barks. There’s nothing friendly in his tone. He’s fuckin’ pissed.

I follow behind him quietly. I know when to shut up, and now’s the time.

“Sit the fuck down,” he barks as I walk through the door. He closes the door behind him and flips the lock.

“What’s up?” I ask, knowing damn well what’s up.

“You’re a pussy,” he says, his gray eyes focused on me. They’re swimming with anger and it pisses me off.

“Fuck you, man,” I say. In this office, in this conversation, this is my friend—not my president.

“You fight like hell for her and then you bounce? What the fuck man? Don’t even get me started on that shit that happened at the BBQ. Do you know how long it took me to talk Kentlee out of barging into your room and sawing your nuts off with a dull knife?”

Instinctually, I grab my balls at the thought and hiss.

“She don’t need me,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“But you don’t want her with anyone else. That makes perfect fuckin’ sense.” He rolls his eyes and anger creeps up my neck.

“It’s complicated. I killed her husband. In front of her. No hesitation. I didn’t even fuckin’ blink. And you know what? I haven’t even thought twice about it. That piece of shit deserved to die. But all that did was show her what kind of monster I am,” I say, looking down at my boots.

“So you’re making decisions for her, then?” he asks, repeating my words from year ago. I look up to him and he grins. “You need to get your head on straight. You think I deserve Kent? You think Vault deserves sweet little Rosie? Fuck no, we don’t. But pushing her away—you ain’t a martyr, man. Don’t make yourself and Brent miserable because of some fuckin’ pedestal you have her on.

“And if you’re really done with the bitch, cut her loose. Torch wants in there somethin’ fierce, but he ain’t gonna step on the brotherhood—on you. He respects you too much for all that shit. You can’t keep her at arm’s length, it ain’t fair to you, to her, or to Stella. And for fuck’s sake, if you want her back you better go back crawling, that shit was not cool.”

I look at my friend. Fuck, I’m a prick. I’m the biggest kind of prick. I’ve abandoned not only Brentlee, but Stella, too. Because of my own issues. They didn’t do one thing to deserve any of it. Not one thing, except love me.

“I see it’s sinkin’ in how much you fucked up, brother.”

“I fucked up. Fuck, the way I was at the BBQ? I acted just like my old man,” I confess. Fury nods.

“You did. But you didn’t do anything you can’t apologize for later,” he says. I grimace.

“The fuck did you do?” he asks.

“Made sure Brentlee saw Star suckin’ my dick,” I begin. Fury clears his throat. “About twenty minutes after I blew her husband’s brains out,” I finish.

“When you fuck up, you do it big,” he whistles. I nod. “It might take you a minute, but you’ll get her back. Before you even try, sober the fuck up, and make sure she’s exactly what you want. I can’t survive any more family fuckin’ drama. My woman’s been way too involved in this shit, and she’s stressin’ me out about it. I honestly don’t give a fuck what you all do, but Kentlee does, and I want my baby girl happy—so fix this shit,” he barks. He then lifts his chin toward the door, signaling that our meeting is officially over.