Jerry's Passion: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 6) (12 page)

Jerry could see the trepidation in her eyes as she talked about the jerk, and he didn’t like it one bit. He had half a mind to finish what he’d started, and he was pretty sure he would before he headed back to Pinewood Springs. No one messed with Kylie.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you anymore.” He reached over and grasped her hand.

“I don’t want you to do anything stupid. I think he got the point.”

“I’m not so sure. Leave it to me.”

“I’m glad school will be over soon… for a lot of reasons.” She stroked the top of Jerry’s hand with her thumb.

The flickering candle in the holder cast an amber glow over her face, and she looked stunning. He stared at her lips, the way her front teeth bit into the corner of her lower one. He wanted to lean over and lick and kiss her delicious mouth. It felt good being with her, just eating and talking.

“You’re staring at me. What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“That I want to come inside you,” he said huskily. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

“Let’s go,” she murmured.

He paid the bill, and in less than thirty minutes, he had her pinned against the wall, her tits exposed, her jeans off, and her legs wrapped around him. As he kissed her hard and deep, he played with her breasts, making her nipples into rigid peaks. When his fingers slipped under her panties, she gasped, digging her nails into his shoulder. Since she was new to fucking, she wasn’t very adept at screwing against the wall, so he carried her over to the bed and hovered over her.

It was still early—the sky had just turned dark, and dancing stars glinted in the sky. In the distance, an owl hooted. The radio played a sultry tune by Barry White, and Jerry kicked off his boots and stripped naked. He loved the feeling of his skin against hers. Hours stretched before them, and he vowed she’d be purring and exhausted before the sun rose.

J
erry looked at
his phone as it vibrated and he stiffened, the muscles in his jaw twitching. He brought the phone to his ear. “What do you want?” he asked sharply.

“I just called to see how you’ve been. I haven’t seen you in a while. I’ve missed you,” a shaky voice said.

“How much money do you want, Wanda?” He rubbed his brow.

“Why do you think I want money? Can’t your mother call you to see how you’re doing?”

“Yeah, she could if she was normal, but you’re not. Tell me how much you want or I’m hanging up.”

Her breath crackled over the phone. “Five hundred bucks.”

“Fuck. What did you do with the thousand I gave you a few weeks ago?”

She coughed fitfully, then rasped, “I got bills to pay. Your sister’s an expensive one. Anyway, five hundred is nothing to you.”

He narrowed his eyes. He should tell this sorry excuse for a mother to fuck off, but he knew he wouldn’t. “I’ll be over in an hour.”

“Can you come over later? I got to go over to Vicky’s. She’s having man trouble and wants my help.”

He laughed dryly. “That’s a joke. I’ll be there in an hour or I won’t come. You choose.”

Another wheezing cough. “You’re a hard one.” He heard her inhale—either weed or cigarettes.

“I learned from the best. One hour.” He broke the connection. Clouds of dust rose up from the dirt as he kicked the ground. He didn’t know why he bothered with Wanda. She hadn’t given a damn about him, his brother, or his sister since the day they were born.

Pete was the oldest of the three. At twenty-seven, he was two years older than Jerry. He’d graduated from college and lived in Anaheim Hills in California. He was married, had a two-year-old son, and he wanted nothing to do with Wanda, Jerry, or their half-sister, Kelsey. Jerry was fine with that because he didn’t really know his brother, and what he did know he wasn’t eager about. His brother worked for the corporate world, and Jerry had no use for his high-paying job, overpriced house, or conventional life.

Wanda had been a meth addict who’d used before, during, and after her pregnancies. The state came into the home after his little sister had been walking around the neighborhood barefooted and dressed in a bathing suit in thirty-two-degree weather, and several neighbors called the police. When the cops had knocked on the door, his strung-out mother had refused to open it. Jerry had waded through trash on the floor to answer it. The wave of putrid stench assaulted the officers, and they’d pushed their way into the abode.

Jerry remembered reading the report where the badges described the living conditions as being the worst they’d seen. The only thing in the refrigerator had been a gallon of spoiled milk and cans of beer. Jerry and his siblings had eye infections so bad they had oozed yellow discharge. Of course, all three had been promptly removed from the house.

They were separated and placed in foster care. Pete lucked out and had a good family who actually wanted to try and help the traumatized young boy. Jerry had ended up with three different families over the course of nine years. Each one was greedier than the next, until the last family let him do whatever the hell he wanted as long as they received their check. They were the best because they didn’t pretend to give a shit.

He rounded the corner into the Cedars Trailer Park on the northwest side of town. It was a rundown rat hole, and a favorite for dealers cooking up meth. The perfect place for his mother to wallow in her addiction.

When Wanda had first reached out to him, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. But when he’d been reunited with his sister, he’d softened a bit and decided that he shared the same blood as Wanda, so he’d give this family shit a try. Deep down, he felt sorry for the used-up woman who’d sired him. She’d been abused by men her whole life, and she never had anyone in her court before. He hated what she was, but he felt sympathy for who she could have been.

Kelsey had moved back with their mother a couple years before. She’d be graduating high school, if she ever bothered to attend. She’d been removed from her last foster home because she’d accused the foster dad of messing with her. As far as Jerry knew, nothing came out of it, and she’d been placed back with their mom. At the time, their mom had stopped using, but Jerry suspected she’d been lured back to the drug.

He kicked a rusted wash basin off the step, then opened the torn screen door and walked into the trailer.

“There’s my boy.” Wanda sat on a ripped recliner. She was skinny as a rail and oxygen ran from her nose to the tank behind her chair. “Clear those papers off the couch and have a seat. I haven’t had the strength to clean, and that lazy-ass sister of yours is always whoring around instead of helping me out.” She wheezed and broke into a coughing fit. Jerry watched her as she wiped the spittle from her lips. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing.” He walked over and dropped seven one-hundred-dollar bills in her lap. “I gave you extra to buy groceries. I shoulda bought them, though. I’m pretty damned sure you’re gonna use the money for crank.”

“I told you, I stopped using. I’m clean.” She smoothed out her floral housecoat.

“Bullshit. All the sores on your pasty face tell me otherwise.” He shook his head, glancing at the dirty dishes piled in the sink. Wanda was definitely using again. “Why did you let Josie go? I paid her to come and clean this place once a week. She told me you fired her. What the fuck?”

“She was taking your money and not doing shit. She was stealing from me too.”

“Josie wasn’t stealing from you. Your addiction’s got you all messed up in the head. Anyway, she refuses to come back. She told me you were always yelling at her and calling her a slut.”

“Well, isn’t she? Isn’t she one of those who spreads her legs at your biker club?”

“Whatever. Where’s Kelsey?”

“Whoring around. She’s always at Brian’s trailer. She thinks he’s the best thing around. I told her nothing good comes outta trusting a man. All the men I’ve ever had in my life knocked me up and left me with no money. Good-for-nothing motherfuckers.” The excitement brought on another coughing fit, and Jerry stood up and walked over to her.

“You want some water?” he asked.

She nodded and he went to the kitchen, cussing as he tried to find a clean glass. He opened the refrigerator to see if there was any bottled water, and saw nothing in it but beer, olives, pickles, and orange juice. He slammed it shut, washed out a glass, and brought the water to his mother. After she took a large gulp, she placed the glass on the tray next to her. He picked up the money from her lap and took out two hundred dollars.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she cackled.

“Buying groceries for you and Kelsey. I’ll be back later. I’m also getting someone over here to clean this goddamned pigsty, and if you don’t like it, I’ll fucking disappear. Not that you’d miss me, but the money goes too.”

The screen door groaned when he slammed it, Wanda’s curses bouncing off his back. Jerry walked over to one of the nearby trailers when he spotted his sister’s Honda Civic. He pounded on the door and a burly man in his late forties opened it, a scowl on his face. “What the fuck do you want?”

Jerry pushed him aside and entered the trailer. It was neat and a breath of fresh air from the dirtiness inside his mom’s place. “Where’s Kelsey?”

“Who?”

Jerry loomed over Brian, his face inches from the older man’s. “I’m in a fuckin’ pissed-off mood, so you don’t want to mess with me. Get my fuckin’ sister now, and I better not find out you’ve been banging her.”

The man moved away from the biker. “Kelsey. Your brother’s here.”

A girl of eighteen bounced out of one of the rooms, tugging down her tight T-shirt. She wore Daisy Dukes and flip-flops, her brown hair cascading down her back. “Jerry.” She ran over and hugged him. “It’s good to see you.” She leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “Did you bring me any money? Mom never gives me any. She takes everything you give her and uses it just for her.”

“What the fuck are you doing here with a guy who’s older than Wanda?”

“Talking.”

“And playing a video game,” the man added.

Jerry turned to him and pointed his finger in his face. “You. Shut the fuck up. Kelsey?”

“I already answered. I like it here because it’s clean and Mom’s not around hacking her brains out or yelling at me.”

“Come on.” He grabbed her wrist and yanked her to him, dragging her out of the trailer.

“Stop. Jerry, stop! You’re not my fucking father.”

He plopped her down in front of Wanda’s residence. “Why the hell aren’t you in school? If you don’t want to go, then get a damn job. I don’t like you hanging out with that fucker.”

“You mean Brian? He’s nice. He buys me stuff and takes me to Burger King and Royal Inn. Have you been there? It’s all you can eat for fifteen bucks. Sometimes he takes Mom with us. He’s really nice.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “He’s too old for you. Have you fucked him?”

From the way she looked down at her feet, he knew she had, and he wanted to beat the shit out of the guy.

“I haven’t done anything with him except talk, go to dinner, and play video games. Mom doesn’t care. She likes Brian. He gives her money sometimes.”

So Wanda was pimping out her daughter. Another great moment in his fucked-up family album. “If you need something to do, clean up the trailer. It’s disgusting.”

“Why bother? Mom just makes it dirty again. I’m sick of not being appreciated.”

In the background, he heard Wanda hacking away, and he suddenly wanted to get as far away from them as he could.
No wonder Pete moved to California. I don’t fuckin’ blame him.
“I’m outta here. I’ll be back later, and your ass better be here to help unload the groceries.”

“You gonna give me any money?” she asked in a low voice.

He blew out a long breath. “When I come back. Be here. I’m not joking.” He straddled his bike, gripped the throttle clutch, and took off without a backward glance.

When he returned, night had already fallen. He hopped up the wooden stairs and entered Wanda’s home. Kelsey was stretched out on the couch watching TV, and Wanda was dozing in her recliner.

“I’m back,” he said in a hushed tone.

Kelsey leapt from the couch and followed him out. “Did you bring me any potato chips? You know I like the sour cream and chives.”

“I bought them.” He grabbed seven bags of food, and she grabbed the rest.

In silence, they put the food away, Kelsey’s occasional squeal when she saw something she liked pricking the quiet. After everything was neatly stacked in the fridge and cupboards, Jerry handed her a hundred-dollar bill. She clapped her hands and stuffed it in her bra.

“If you clean the place and keep it neat, I’ll pay you eighty bucks a week.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you serious? Make it a hundred and you have yourself a deal.”

“Eighty bucks. I’m not negotiating.” Her eyes rolled up and her lips pressed together like she was trying to figure out how much that would amount to on a regular basis. “It’s three hundred and twenty dollars a month.”

“Wow. Okay. Deal. When do I start?”

“Tomorrow. The hundred is your first payment. I threw in a twenty-dollar incentive bonus. I’ll do that from time to time. And I have no qualms about firing you if you do a shitty job. Remember that.” He brushed past her and glanced at Wanda, who was still sleeping. He jerked his head toward her. “Don’t tell her about our arrangement.”

“I’d never do that. She’d want me to turn all the money over to her.”

He opened the screen and stepped back in when he saw a man in his early twenties with platinum spiked hair and tattoos on the side of his face and neck, wearing jeans, black leather jacket, and biker boots. Jerry watched him as he walked to one of the trailers, trying to make out the logo on the back of his jacket. He definitely belonged to an MC, but Jerry couldn’t read the name. The guy jumped up the stairs, opened the door, and closed it behind him. Jerry noted the trailer number was 72.

“You know him?”

“Uh-huh.”

“How long’s he been here? And who’s he stayin’ with?”

“He’s been here for about ten days. He’s with a couple of other guys, and they’re staying with Randy and Dolores. Randy and his girlfriend keep to themselves a lot. They’re not friendly at all.”