The Run (The Hell's Disciples MC Book 4) (18 page)

Grabbing her wrist, I stop the flapping, which is only making a mess. Pulling it to my face, I do a quick assessment. A slice runs from the tip of her finger, down the pad. It’s deep, but not stitches deep.

“Buck,” she groans. Her face is turning green, and those big brown eyes are wide and weary. 

Without thinking, I pop that shit in my mouth, anything to get her to calm her ass down and keep her from dropping on me. Sucking hard, I hope to hell that it stops bleeding long enough to get something on it.

Pulling her finger out of my mouth, her eyes are the size of saucers, and she shivers. “Hold it up,” I tell her, ripping my shirt up over my head when she takes her arm back and shoves it in the air.

I wrap her finger in my shirt and tug her along after me, towards the bathroom.

“What were you even looking for in the kitchen?”

“Band-Aids.”

“In the kitchen?”

“That’s where I would keep ‘em. I mean, that’s where a lot of sharp shit’s kept, like knives,” she adds. Well, she’s got me there.

“I’ll put some damn Band-Aids in there then.” In case she wants to lop another finger off. Sitting her on the edge of the bathtub, I grab the box of from the medicine cabinet, where one would usually keep those sorts of things. “But for future reference, they’re in here.”

I sit her hand, palm side up, on my thigh. “What were you cutting?” I ask, looking at the angry red slice.

“I was making you a sandwich,” she mumbles sadly, looking like I kicked her puppy.

“Were you cutting the sandwich while it was in your hand?” She doesn’t answer, telling me what I need to know. “Fuck, Lennon. Don’t do that shit again.” Cleaning the cut with some alcohol, I wipe away the blood. “We’ve got cutting boards for that.”

I know she’s watching me ... not what I’m doing, but she’s looking intently at me. Wrapping a Band-Aid around her finger, I back the fuck up and outta her space before I start getting even closer.

“There, should be good.” Looking her finger over, she smiles.

“Thanks, Buck.”

“Yep, now just rest, babe. No more cutting shit tonight.” I tell her as I’m walking out the door.

Halfway down the hall, I yell back, “What kinda sandwich?”

Sticking her head out the door, she snorts. “A BLT.” I’ll go finish what she started then.

I find her in my space not more than thirty minutes later, sitting with her legs under her ass in the middle of the bed, injured hand cradled in her lap. Her eyes are on the TV and she’s singing along, loudly, to some theme song.

“You’re feelin’ that show, aren’t ya?” Nodding, she keeps singing about thanking someone for being a friend.

“Yep.”

“What is it?”

“Golden Girls,” she laughs and continues along with her singing.

I took a shower after I played doctor and of course, I should’ve known I’d find her in here. She wants to cuddle. Just the word makes me queasy.

“So, is this gonna be a thing now? Thought it was a one-time deal.” Second night now she’s been in here with me. I gave her the couch at first, then I took it back. Gave her last night because I was too tired to argue, but tonight? No, not fucking happening.

“I don’t like sleeping alone,” she says in all seriousness.

“And you think it’s a good idea we keep sharing this bed? I’m a man, Lennon. I can only take so much of your body near mine.” It’s the goddamn truth.

I have self-control, but each passing day with Lennon, I’m losing it, little by little.

Apparently she doesn’t get that this shit is hard on me. Not only is she in my life, she’s making friends at the club, living in my house, and sleeping in my bed. All that shit makes an already hard situation even harder. I’m trying like hell not to like this broad, but she’s not trying to make it easy on me.

“I’m sorry. I just like being by you,” she says, her smile dropping clean off her face. Now I feel like a fucking dick.

I’m having a hard time believing this isn’t some game, or joke. Maybe it’s my deep seeded trust issues that are keep me from just letting Lennon hang around me without questioning her. I just have a hard time believing that she wants to be around me. I’m not a terrible guy, but I’m not the greatest either, and her wanting to be around me has me distrusting her motives. It’s hard to let someone in, especially a stranger who is trying hard to be a friend. 

“Scoot your ass over, babe.” Not sure how much more of her half-naked body next to mine I can take before I do something I’ll regret.

“How old are ya?” I ask, anything to stop my mind from running away from me. We’ve been lying here for about an hour, and it’s not getting easier.

From the side, I see her nose wrinkle and a small frown forms on those fuckable lips of hers. Turning her head towards me, she answers, “Twenty-eight. Why, how old are you?”

“Not old enough to be in bed with you like this while you watch that show.” We’re drifting into old couple territory here. “All you need is one of those long ass ugly nightgowns. Get me a pipe, and we’d be an old couple.”

“Did you just call me old?” She snorts, looking away from her Golden Girls to me. “First, I’m fat at the bike shop. Then you might or might not take a bullet for me, and now I’m fucking old?” She says with shock and awe in her raspy voice. Damn, I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

“I’m sorry,” she laughs, barely able to get the shit out, her eyes full of humor. “You’re just too easy.” Jesus, she’s fucking with me.

“I’m thirty-four, chubby,” I say as I slap her thigh, making it jiggle just a little when I shove her over across the bed.

Lennon’s not fat, not even fucking close. In fact, she’s perfect to me, which makes this all so much harder on me. She’s thick and curvy in all the right places for me, and she’s all fucking sexy. She’s got hips to grip and an ass to smack. A little jiggle here and there is just more fun for me. No, she’s not fat, she’s voluptuous.

Fuck, I knew this whole “cuddle buddy” shit was a bad idea. I should be sleeping, or be at the club, getting drunk, maybe fucking some bitch. Maybe I shoul’ve went for a ride. But no, I’m lying here with Lennon and I hate how much I don’t hate it.

Grabbing a joint from my jeans on the floor, I light it up and get comfortable, since I’m uncomfortable, being here with Lennon. Taking a drag, I mull over my life and how I got here. I’m thankful its Lennon here and not Jess. Thankful isn’t even the word for it, lucky might be more like it.

“You’re not fat, darlin’, but can’t say you ain’t old.” I joke. Lennon knows how goddamn beautiful she is.

“Wouldn’t matter if I was fat because you still wanna fuck me,” she says nonchalantly. Caught off guard by her bluntness, I almost choke on my weed. She thinks I wanna fuck her, huh? Well, she’d be right about that.

“Oh yeah?”

“I woke up this morning with a hard dick poking me in the back, so fat or not, you still like what you see.” She wins, hands down. She knows.

I wake up alone, and I’m not gonna lie, I don’t like it much. The space where the little crasher slept is empty and cold when I roll over. If you’re gonna be here when I fall asleep, you’re gonna be here when I wake up, rule number three.

Following the smell of coffee down the hall, I look for Lennon in the kitchen. Rounding the corner, I find the front door wide open. There’s coffee in the pot and a pair of Lennon’s beat up Chucks by the wide-open door, but no Lennon. Checking the clock, I see it’s only seven in the morning. Too fucking early to be awake.

Standing on the porch, I look out in the yard and find her, just standing in the middle of the grass, doing fuck knows what. Her back is to me and I don’t have a clue what she’s doing.

Wearing nothing but a tiny black tank, and an even smaller pair of cotton shorts, she looks out of place in the middle of the yard.

“Whatcha doin’, darlin’?”

“Nothing.” She doesn’t even bother to look at me when she answers. She just stares out into the woods, drinking her coffee.

“Lennon, come back inside.” She’s going to freeze to death out here in the wet grass and early morning air.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Fuck, she’s a defiant little brat this morning.

“Because I wanna go back to sleep for a while.” We’ve got hours until the party starts tonight, and seeing as how these parties tend to run all weekend, this might be the last sleep I’ll get till it’s over.

“And I have to be there for you to sleep?” She asks, finally looking over her shoulder at me with her head cocked curiously. Well fuck, I guess not, but it’s weird now. Now that she’s taken over my bed, it feels wrong to be in it without her.

“Yes.” I’m not gonna pussyfoot around it. I want some more sleep, and I want Lennon back inside the damn house. How am I supposed to get any sleep while she’s out here? She can’t even make a sandwich without almost losing a finger. I need her close so I can keep an eye on her.

“Do you miss me?” She teases, turning back to looking out into nothing. I don’t miss her. How do you miss someone who’s less than a hundred feet away? Maybe it’s her body heat I miss.

“I’m not fucking with you. Come inside.”

“Buck―” She starts to argue.

“My house, my goddamn rules. I wanna go back to sleep, so you’re gonna bring your ass back inside the house and get into bed.”

She sighs loudly in response.

Walking through the yard and up the steps of the deck, Lennon stops in front of me and shoves her coffee cup at me. “You know, all you had to say was please,” she whispers around a devious smile. She walks around me, back inside the house, letting the screen door slam behind her.

I watch her go and I start to wonder what the fuck that was. I couldn’t sleep, and apparently it’s Lennon’s fault. I’m not going to analyze why that is, why my sleep depends on her. I’m not even going to think about the fact that I’m being a whiney bitch over not having her in my bed when two weeks ago, I was pissed about even having her around. It is what it is.

“In the bed, now,” I tell her as I follow her down the hall. I say it for effect, really, because her ass is already halfway there.

“Can we cuddle?” She laughs at the face I make when she asks. Leaping onto the bed, she lands with a bounce.

“Fuck no.” I shove her over, getting back in my now cold bed next to her. “Two feet rule,” I say, motioning at the space between us.

“Stupid fucking rule,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. She deliberately scoots towards me, and her smirk grows the closer her ass gets. “Once you fall asleep, I’m just gonna crawl on top of you and sleep.”

“What you do when you sleep is your business, just don’t wake my ass up when you’re doing it. But while I’m awake, it’s two feet, babe.” My control is just about gone.

——

I tried, I really did, but there was no changing Lennon’s mind. She woke up in a challenging mood, determined to do whatever the fuck she wants. Wearing a short, sheer, white linen dress, and a pair of knee high riding boots, she’s every bikers wet dream, and she’s wearing that outfit no matter what the fuck I say.

Not one to really give a shit what others do, I find myself pretty damn concerned with Lennon; what she wears, where she goes, and what she does. I don’t like it, but I can’t help myself.

There’s just something about her. Ignoring it doesn’t work, and fighting it sure the fuck doesn’t seem to be making much of a difference. So, I’m just gonna go with it. Lennon’s in my life right now, whether I like it or not, so I might as well just go with the flow and see where it goes. 

“I wannna go for a ride,” Lennon says. Hiking up her little dress, she throws a leg over my seat. With one hand on the handlebars, her ass goes up in the air, and her knee rests on the metal. The material of her “dress” is up around her waist, her ass hanging out. Her ass cheeks are covered in white lace, and they’re on full display. Fuck, what a picture. Crossing my arms, I watch her attempt to get on the bike, enjoying the show.

“Babe, I can see your ass.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“She knows,” I repeat to myself. She doesn’t give a fuck. Settling in, she gets comfortable and pats the empty space in front of her, nodding me over. “Come on, Buck, let’s ride.” 

“Where you wanna go, darlin’?” I get on the bike in front of her. Setting her feet on the bike frame, she scoots up close, leaning her body close against me.