Craving Constellations (9 page)

“Hey, I need to speak with Slider. Can we follow you up?”

The douche was smiling at me. Fuck it.

“Yeah, sure.”

If Slider had a problem with this guy, I would have known. I didn’t recognize him, but I could tell he wasn’t a cop. After all these years, I could smell a cop from a mile away. I didn’t see any reason to lock him out.

We pulled up to the garages, and I saw Brenna and Trix walking toward us from a couple of picnic tables in the grass. God, she was beautiful. She hadn’t straightened her hair, and all of the little corkscrew curls were everywhere. She and Trix were both wearing sundresses, and they looked like they had gotten a little sun. Brenna looked at me nervously. I heard the douche start talking behind me, but it took me a second to realize what he’d said because Brenna turned her head, and the blood drained from her face. I glanced down at Trix, who was trying to climb under Brenna’s skirt. It took me a moment to understand what was happening. They were shrinking. Right in front of my eyes, my beautiful girls were pulling into themselves—as if they would disappear if they could just get small enough, quiet enough, still enough. Then, it hit me. Only one reason why the guy behind me could get a reaction like that.

I didn’t even think. This had to be the guy who had beaten the hell out of Brenna. The guy she was running from. The guy who had made my girl so scared she went completely silent at the first hint of a threat. I didn’t know how the fuck she’d gotten caught up with this douche, who was so different from us in his expensive suit and fuckin’ comb-over, but it didn’t matter.

I was going to fuckin’ kill him.

I got within about five feet from him when I heard Slider start yelling for Grease. Two steps closer, and I noticed his men drawing down on me. It didn’t matter. They could fuck off; my boys had my back. There wasn’t a fuckin’ thing anyone could do, short of killing me, that would keep me from killing him where he stood. Then, I heard Trix yelling for her papa. Who was she yelling at? She couldn’t be running to the dick in front of me. That didn’t make any sense.

I turned my head to look at her, and she started running right toward us. What the fuck was Brenna doing, letting her run through this shit? I glanced quickly up at Brenna but couldn’t meet her eye. She looked shell-shocked. Then, she started chasing Trix. Right as I looked back at Trix, she ran as hard as she could and leaped onto me like a fuckin’ monkey. As I lifted her up on my arm, she buried her face in my neck, and I could feel her soft, warm breath against me.

“Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa.”

My little warrior was fuckin’ whimpering in my ear. I heard Brenna run up behind us, and I took a couple steps back, so Trix was closer to our boys and farther away from Brenna’s husband and his goons. I didn’t want her anywhere near the fucker.

We ended up right next to Brenna, and I could feel her shaking, so I slid my hand to her lower back. I might be pissed as hell at her, but I couldn’t stop myself from trying to comfort her. She was scared shitless, and I needed to touch her. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and promise her he’d never touch her again—that I’d take care of her, that she didn’t have to be scared. Instead, I just put my hand above her ass. She didn’t seem to notice the move. She just stood there. Every man in the forecourt knew what it meant though. It was possessive, claiming.

This motherfucker needed to know I was never giving them back. He started spewing fuckin’ garbage, and my stomach clenched so tight that I thought I was going to vomit all over the pavement like a fuckin’ pussy. Jesus Christ. Brenna was still as stone beside me, and I knew I needed to get her and Trix away from here. She needed to go now before I pulled my gun and shot this fucker. As soon as I pulled my piece, all hell was going to break loose, and I didn’t want them in the middle of it. I handed Trix to Brenna and told her to get the baby inside. She tried to argue, but I gave her a little shove to get her moving. I didn’t know how long I was going to last before I lost it.

As soon as she stepped through the doors of the clubhouse, I pulled the gun from the back of my pants, but before I could raise my arm, Slider was there. I’d never seen him so pissed. I couldn’t shoot the douche as long as Slider was standing in the mess, so I just bided my time. I’d get the fucker.

“What the fuck are you doing, Richards? You think you can come on my grounds, to my club, and start running off at the mouth? You have a goddamn death wish?” The guy opened his mouth to protest, but Slider cut him off. “I know who your father is, and frankly, that doesn’t mean fuck all to me. You come here again, uninvited, and I’ll let Poet have you. He’ll make you wish you were dead long before he grants that wish. Now, get the fuck off my property before I fucking bury you.”

I realized Brenna had walked back up next to me just as I heard the rumble of Kendra’s car. What a clusterfuck. God, I hoped the bitch would be smart enough to stay in the car.

Nope. Of course not. She walked right between Brenna and me and wrapped her arms around me as if she didn’t notice the fifteen guns pointed at us. God, this bitch was dense. I didn’t move. I couldn’t make myself put my arms around her as I stood with Brenna up against her husband. This chick was mine, and she had been for a year, and I couldn’t touch her. Brenna was looking at Kendra like she didn’t know what to make of her when Richards started blasting his mouth off again as he got ready to leave.

He got back in his car and took off, but I couldn’t pull my eyes from Brenna. She looked as if she had shrunk into herself. I didn’t know how it was possible, but she looked smaller than she had just seconds before. Her eyes were closed, and she was taking fast, shallow breaths. Her arms were wrapped around herself, and she was holding her elbows so tightly that I could see her fingers were completely flexed.

I went to take a step toward her when I remembered Kendra hanging on me. Fuck. The dickhead was right—there was no comparison between Kendra and Brenna. Even with her skin pasty white and pain written across her face, Brenna would win hands fuckin’ down.

Poet walked up to Brenna and made eye contact with me. I knew he’d take care of her, so I left her standing there in the driveway while I took my old lady inside. Kendra seemed completely unaware of what she had stumbled into, and as we walked inside, she was talking about how much she’d missed me and all she’d done the past two weeks. Was she always this goddamn annoying? Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, and I had never realized it until I heard Brenna’s husky rasp again. And why was this bitch talking like a five-year-old? Did she think it was attractive? She hadn’t done that shit before I left. I was going to have to put a stop to it. If she pulled that shit while I was fuckin’ her, I’d go soft, guaranteed. I wished she would just shut the fuck up for a second.

Trix ran to me as soon as we sat down in some chairs in a corner of the room. I pulled her close as she called me
Papa
over and over. Her hands clenched in the neck of my T-shirt, stretching it to shit, as she burrowed herself under my cut. My girl was a little shaken up, so I just held her tight and let her do her thing.

Kendra had a strange look on her face, but I didn’t give a shit. I’d tell her and be done with it. If she had a problem with my girl, she could kick rocks. Bitches were thick on the ground; it wouldn’t take long to find someone else. Fuck, if I were being honest, I wouldn’t go looking. There was only one woman I wanted in my bed.

I glanced back up at the door, but Brenna still hadn’t come inside. Fuck, but I really wished I were out there, taking care of her myself.

I ended up taking a nap with Trix, and we didn’t see Dragon again that night. I assumed he had taken his bitch home to make sure she didn’t need to see a dentist. I was pretty sure I’d knocked some shit loose. I was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that I had just knocked a chick out like a common club slut. It was not my finest moment.

However, as I went over it again and again in my mind, I realized that I would do it again. I was pissed that Dragon had an old lady, but that wasn’t her fault. She probably didn’t even know about me—not that there was much to know, except for one night five years ago. I hated the fact that he was with her, but I wouldn’t have hit her for it. However, I could not and would not let her anywhere near my daughter. The way she looked at Trix still made me want to hit something. Who the hell glares at a four-year-old little girl when she thinks no one is looking?

Eh, I just hoped I wouldn’t have to see her again.

After dinner that night, Slider informed me that we would be moving into the little house the next day, so I needed to pack my shit. I was relieved to get away from the tension in the clubhouse, and I couldn’t wait to sleep without a flailing Trix. I missed having our own space, but I was also really nervous about being out there alone. One of the guys would always be close to our place, but that didn’t keep my fears at bay.

The morning of the move was rainy and wet, and I had never been so glad that we didn’t have many things with us. Pop and I packed our stuff into my little car, and I followed the dirt road to the far edge of the property. The house was nice…little but nice. It had a front porch that begged for a rocking chair and plenty of grass out front for Trix to play in. The inside had an open floor plan, and the front door opened directly into the living room with the outdated kitchen behind it. A little hallway held a bathroom and two bedrooms the size of postage stamps, but I figured they would work just fine for Trix and me. We didn’t need much space.

I spent the day familiarizing myself with where everything was, making a grocery list so Vera could run to the store for us the next day, and getting our little house all finished.

Vera had rounded up the old ladies, and they all pitched in furniture and other household stuff I forgot I’d needed until I had to start with nothing, giving us things they didn’t need or just didn’t want. The ugly couch in the living room was still in really good condition, so I was pretty sure that was in the
didn’t want
category. Nothing in the house matched, and it caused a little anxiety in my chest when I looked around. I was used to keeping things immaculate, and even when our little house was clean, it would never look the way I’d been forced to keep things before.

Trix and I both had beds and dressers in our rooms, which I was really thankful for. My queen-size bed seemed massive in my room with little space to walk around the edges. The dresser had actually been moved into the closet because there wasn’t enough room otherwise. Trix’s room was perfect though. Her twin bed fit perfectly against one wall, and she had plenty of room to store her toys and clothes. I couldn’t wait to take Trix to pick out some character bedding and matching curtains. At Tony’s, Trix’s room looked like something out of a magazine, all muted colors and cream carpets. I wanted her to have a kid’s room here—a room where she could leave Barbies on the floor and put those little glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling.

The rooms were situated in such a way that Trix’s windows faced the front of the house and mine faced the back. I was happy with this at first because it meant that sunlight would be streaming through my windows at the ass crack of dawn and not Trix’s. I could sleep through it; she could not. It took me about one minute before the fact that our rooms faced different sides of the house started to freak me the hell out. If someone were trying to get into Trix’s room, I wouldn’t even hear it. I’d be completely oblivious. Shit. I didn’t know if I even wanted Trix that far away from me. What if something happened? I decided to push my thoughts away in favor of puttering around our new little house. I could stress about our bedrooms when it was time for bed; there was no need to worry this early in the day about sleeping arrangements.

Grease showed up not long after we got settled and pulled me out of an almost panic attack. Trix was sitting on the ugly-ass couch, playing with her Barbies, when I let him in, and I was busy trying to rearrange things to my liking. Having him in the house made me far less jumpy, and I wondered what the fuck I was going to do when he went home that night. I didn’t know if he had a family, if he lived at the club, if he had a house in town, or if he was annoyed about babysitting me. It was funny how many things changed when you disappeared for five years, how life went on when you expected it to stay the same. I opened my mouth to ask him about his life when he tilted his chin to the kitchen and started to walk toward it. Once we got there, he answered some of my unasked questions.

“Fuck, Brenna. You’ve really got yourself in a situation this time. Tony fuckin’ Richards. Goddamn, you go big when you fuck up. Fuck Dragon, take off for parts unknown, marry Tony fuckin’ Richards, have Dragon’s kid, come back here screaming sanctuary, and drag the whole fuckin’ club into your shit. Fuck me, his dad has police in his pocket!” He shook his head.