Jaded: (Beautiful Biker MC Romance Series), page 11
“I’m all right.” Gianna waved her hand. “I won’t go into anaphylactic shock. It’s not like that. But thanks, anyways.”
“Did you puke?” I asked when my mother moved away to make more coffee.
“No.”
“Baby…” I muttered.
“Can’t. Told ya. I’ll be okay.” She waved dismissively.
And it dawned what I’d just called her. Slip of the tongue.
“What should you do after eating gluten? This happens sometimes, obviously. What do you do about it?”
“Suffer.” She shrugged.
“Serious, woman, what do you do?”
“Hydration. Tomorrow I should do a liquid fast and drink broth and smoothies. Flush it out. I have Pepto Bismol in my Caboodle and there’s a peppermint tea I buy sometimes if I accidentally get contaminated. Not sure if there’s any in my purse. I’ll check. Maybe we can stop on the way to the cabin. I’ll grab some digestive enzymes and some ginger, too.”
“I’ll go to the store now. Any kind of peppermint tea?”
“Don’t do that. Let’s see what I’ve got with me. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t do that again.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Lord Captor.”
I shook my head and lifted the pie plate.
“I’m not done with that.”
“Yeah you are.”
She pouted. But she was teasing.
I took the beer away from her then, too, and downed it before going inside to grab her an electrolyte drink.
When I was coming out of the house, Summer stopped me on the deck. “How you doin’?” she asked.
“Fine, why?”
“Chelsea’s back in town.”
I shrugged. “Didn’t know she left town. Don’t live here, don’t care.”
“She moved up north for a job six months ago, but she got back about a month ago and asked me if you still worked at the club. Told her you moved to Aberdeen, joined an MC. She’s been thinkin’ about visiting you.”
“If you see her again, tell her don’t.”
Summer introduced me to Chelsea, her cousin, way back when. The fucker I beat the shit out of had also put his hands on Summer.
“Jesse. She-”
“Don’t,” I forced out between tight teeth. “There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’ll give her the time of day. Believe that. Make her believe it if she brings me up again.”
***
The place finally emptied out a little after midnight. And it did so with the air feeling thick for me. Not only was the air thick, I was also uncomfortable in my own skin. Amped, like something was coming I needed to be prepared for. I couldn’t decode that feeling but knew it had everything to do with my hostage.
It was a good time today. Though I was very aware of her all day long and not just because I was babysitting.
After the food, a couple people left with their kids, but most stayed for time by the fire after Ma set the rest of the kids up with a movie inside. The adults were surrounding the pit on lawn chairs with a cooler of beers, mixed coolers, Cokes. Ma also set up the coffee urn to the side with her chocolate fountain and a whack of snacks along with what was left of the pies.
Archer’s brother Duke hauled out his beat-up old acoustic guitar and played a couple campfire tunes I’ve heard him play before, but then after urging from one of the girls, Duke launched into Wildfire by Michael Martin Murphey.
I knew that song well, too well, remembered popping it into my father’s cassette deck in his big rig when I’d go on runs with him as a kid. The last time I was around their fire, Duke played it, so I went in the house until it was done. Ma did the same. And we didn’t talk about it, but I knew we were both thinking the same thing. I knew my mother remembered that cassette tape. And by the way she looked at me from the other side of the pit tonight, I figured we were both about to get up and find something to do until it was over. We exchanged one of those Jimmy Garcia glances. They never lasted long, but the glances were loaded. Loaded with ugliness. We never talk about him. Time doesn’t heal all wounds; sometimes the sting hits out of nowhere.
I was about to get to my feet when a bunch of people joined in, including Gianna. And then it was just Gianna singing, because everyone else stopped, staring at her, exchanging looks with one another in awe. And there went the hairs on the back of my neck and my arms again. And I didn’t get up and walk away like I planned. Neither did Ma. I sat and listened to her voice, to the emotion in it, feeling it like a sock to the chest.
She didn’t realize she was singing alone straight away, getting lost in the song as Duke strummed away, a big smile on his ruddy face. When she opened her eyes and noticed all eyes were on her, she clamped her mouth shut.
“Keep goin’ darlin’,” Duke gently encouraged.
She looked embarrassed, cleared her throat, and then she kept going, staring into the flames.
She kept singing to be polite, even though she was obviously uncomfortable. I guess I could’ve saved her from it, but didn’t want her to stop.
And by the end of that fuckin’ song, I’d throw down money that there wasn’t a set of lungs around that fire that didn’t feel clogged. Two of the women from Ma and Archer’s bar had tears in their eyes. And my ma had her eyes on me with a big smile on her face. Like she’d been watching me watch that girl sing, thinking not only did Gianna singing mean I could listen to that whole song for the first time in almost two decades, also that she was even more sure she was gonna get her grandbabies after all.
And fuck me, but the strange thought occurred to me that she might not be wrong about that.
After it was over, Duke tried to encourage her to sing some more. She politely declined, looking embarrassed. He sang another few songs, but the vibe was lost, and the group started thinning as people went home.
***
“You okay?” I asked, leaning into the kitchen seeing her wrapping up some half-eaten pies with aluminum foil, helping Ma clear up.
“Yeah,” she said, but she was lying.
I didn’t know if it was her gut she was lying about or if she was embarrassed about having a captive audience while she sang. Maybe both. Because as beautiful as she sang that song, she looked like she’d rather be anywhere else while she did it.
When we were finally alone in the room I slept in for those few months after I got out of the joint, I knew something was shifting between us. Something that made eye contact feel different. That same something was making my blood run hotter than usual.
I dropped my bag and hers as well as her girl shit tackle box on the couch in the bedroom.
“Want me to go get that tea from the store? Check Ma’s cupboard? She has about twenty tea types in there.”
“I took some Pepto. It’s helping.”
“So it is buggin’ you.”
“A little,” she admitted.
“You guys need anything?” Ma poked her head in.
Gianna replied brightly, “I’m good. Thank you so much for your hospitality today. I had a great time. A really great time.”
“We were happy to have you. Man, girlie, but you sing like the angels.”
Gianna’s eyes dropped to the floor and her cheeks pinkened again. “Thanks,” she replied softly.
“You could win American Idol, you’re that good. Why are you workin’ in an old folks’ home when you could be singing professionally?”
“Nah. Not for me. I’m too shy. Guess I got caught up with everyone else singing. And I like taking care of peoples’ grandparents.” She shrugged.
“Well, you got talent, Gia. Anyway,” Ma went on, “We do it again at Thanksgiving. Any and all who want a family dinner are part of our family on holidays.”
“That’s really sweet,” Gianna said.
Ma smiled. “Well, you’re always welcome at my table. Whether you’re JJ’s hostage or not. I mean that. ‘Night.” She looked to me and lowered her voice. “’Night, baby boy. She made that song worth listenin’ to again, didn’t she?”
I said nothing. I also didn’t meet Ma’s eyes even though I knew she was trying to catch mine. She kissed my cheek, squeezing my arm, then pulled Gianna into a hug. “Your tummy bug you, help yourself to anything in the medicine cabinet. Get hungry or thirsty, make yourself at home in the kitchen. Okay?”
Gianna smiled and patted my mother’s back, returning the hug. “It’s not bad, all things considered. And thanks again for your hospitality. I couldn’t eat another bite.”
“Happy to have you, girlfriend. Have sweet dreams. Night Night, JJ.”
“Night, Ma,” I said.
Gianna fished around in her bag before grabbing a bundle of clothes and taking her purple box to the bathroom.
I stripped down to boxer briefs, grabbed one of the two pillows and the quilt from the end of the bed and pulled the blinds up before stretching out on the couch against the wall, leaving the double bed for her.
Without premeditating it, I snapped my eyes shut when I heard her footsteps coming back into the room. The door clicked shut, the light went out, then the bed creaked as she got settled. My eyes bolted open. I folded the pillow in half, trying to get more comfortable.
***
I woke, hearing rummaging in the pitch dark.
I sat up. “G? What’re you doin’?”
“Sorry. Digging for more pink stuff.”
“You all right?”
“I’m an idiot,” she muttered.
“Not gonna argue with that after what you did to yourself today. Turn the light on if you need to.”
She did, saying, “Thanks. Sorry.”
I shielded my eyes with my hand, but still caught sight of her in just a long t-shirt, bent over her stuff on the floor.
I’d found sleep, but it wasn’t with ease, and not just because this couch was not like sleeping on a cloud. As I tried to settle my mind, it was like I was working out math problems. All to do with a blonde biker bunny with a great ass, pain in her eyes, and a beautiful voice.
My brain kept working over the facts I had about her so far. The few facts she’d shared about her past; it sounded like she’d had a rough go of life so far. And I found myself gettin’ annoyed at the people I didn’t know who’d let her down. Mother not taking care of her after prison. Father chaining her to a goddamn radiator. Plus completely steamed at the notion of Wyld Jackals getting anywhere near her.
She disappeared from the room, and I heard her close the bathroom door.
She’d forgotten to shut the light out and if it’d been days ago or even yesterday I’d have barked about it. But I said nothing.
She was back and the light went out again.
“You got any ties to the Jackals at all?” I asked a couple minutes after hearing she was still fidgeting over there.
“I already told you I’m not a-”
“Answer the question, hostage.”
She took a big breath. “Other than Kailey, not really.”
“You fuck any of them?” I asked.
“What?” she sounded outraged at the question.
“Answer the question.”
“Never.”
“You hang around with any of ‘em? They know you?”
“They know of me.”
“Gimme that rundown.”
“Now? It’s like… whatever time it is and-”
“If I’m protecting you, I need facts.”
No, I didn’t need them right now, but I did. And I didn’t know why.
There was a beat of silence, then she started talking.
“It’s due to Kailey some of them know who I am. I’ve been invited but I’ve never gone to their clubhouse or even their hangouts. In fact, go out of my way to avoid ‘em around bars or whatever. Have been cornered a time or two, though.”
“Explain.”
“That Sarge dude has tried to get my attention. Flirting with me. Showed up to the senior’s home I worked at, tryin’ to… I don’t know… recruit me, I guess, into their bunny stable. Invited me to a party a few weeks back and it was the second invite from him. I told him I’d come just to get away from him, but I didn’t show, so I’ve been hoping not to run into him again. Had a few run-ins with bad bikers so I’ve always done my best to stay outta their way.”
“You prefer good bikers, do ya?” A smile tugged at my lips.
“I mean… not hard to spot the differences between what you guys are and them. I know your club aren’t exactly boy scouts, but you’re also in a whole different league than those guys. They’re…scumbags. And I’d have said that even before what they did to Lick and to Edge’s girl. Plus what I heard they did to that Scooter guy. And I don’t judge people typically. Or I try not to. But can’t help but judge rapists and murderers.”
I adjusted my pillow and grunted, turning to try to get into a better position.
“Fuck,” I groaned, a shooting pain trilling up my back.
“You okay over there?” she asked.
“Back spasm. I’m fine.”
“That couch is older than you and me put together, I think. Doesn’t look too comfy.”
“It’s not.”
“You might as well sleep here on the bed with me. I mean… It’s pretty comfy. Or it would be, and I’d be sleeping like a baby if I hadn’t glutened myself today.”
“I’m fine here,” I insisted.
Ten minutes or so later I heard her whimper.
“What?” I called.
“Just my belly. Sorry to wake you up.”
“You want some Tylenol or somethin’?”
“I swallowed some a while ago. I just gotta suffer.”
“Fuck sakes.” I growled.
“Don’t be mad at me. I’m already mad at me.”
“Ma’s got a heating pad. You want it?”
“That’d be good. Thanks, Jesse.”
I slipped out and grabbed it from the cabinet in the bathroom.
When I was back in the doorway, before I flicked the hall light switch off, I could see she was curled into a tight ball on her side. pain on her face. And I was angrier.
I plugged the heating pad into the nearest outlet and sat on the edge of the bed.
She whimpered again.
I flicked the pad’s switch to high and seeing the outline of her body with the orange light, put it to her stomach.
“Thanks,” she whispered, her hand touching mine as she took it from me. “Please stop being mad at me.”
I ground my molars, then forced myself to breathe out the anger before asking, “What’s it feel like?”
“Like hard tugging, pulling inside my stomach.”
And for some reason, I didn’t get up, didn’t move. I stayed where I was.
Finally, she asked, “Want to lay down here? I’m on your side of the bed. I can move over.”
“Yeah,” I replied.
She moved over.
And I lay back, resting my head on my arm, the cord from the heating pad draped over my hip, the orange light on it illuminating her. She was still in a ball on her side, facing away from me.
“That couch looked uncomfortable,” she whispered.
“It was,” I agreed.
“This bed isn’t bad. Comfier than your bed in the swamp.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
A minute later, she groaned a little.
“Not helpin’?” I asked.
“I don’t think this heating pad works. Sorry, I’m not usually such a baby about this, but I way overdid it.”
I reached across and flicked it off and back on and then put my hand against it while it rested on her stomach. A few minutes later it still wasn’t getting hot.
“Piece of shit,” I muttered and switched it back off before I tossed it to the floor.
“Can you…” she muttered.
I waited for her to finish. She didn’t.
“Can I what?”
“Never mind. It’s all right.”
“What?”
“It’s okay. I’m weird.”
“What is it, Gianna? Fuck sakes, spit it out.”
“Well, now you’re madder, so I don’t wanna spit anything out.”
“Can I what?” I asked softer.
She sighed. “I was just gonna say it felt nice how your hand was there. The pressure, I mean. But… that’s kinda weird of me, so…”
I reached over and put my hand to her belly. “Like that?”
“Yeah. The pressure is helping a little. A lot, actually.”
I kept my hand on her stomach. And since she was only wearing a t-shirt and my palm was on bare skin, I knew it meant her shirt was up around her tits to make room for my hand. And my pinky was against the waistband of her underwear. I’m not a fuckin’ pervert, the girl was lying beside me in pain, but I still had to talk my cock into staying down because she didn’t need it poking her in the ass while she was dealing with a brutal stomachache.
“You can let go if you want,” she whispered a few minutes later.
“It still helpin’?”
“Yeah. Your hands are strong and warm.”
“Then it’s all right.”
She put her hand on top of mine and wiggled her ass into me, snuggling in closer.
“Thanks, Jesse. You’re a good guy.”
I snickered.
“Even if you’re sometimes an ogre,” she added, and I heard the smile in her voice.
I moved my hand up and down a little, rubbing her stomach. “Salty ogre,” I corrected.
“That feels nice. Thank you.”
My cock was hard. No talking it down with that wiggling. And she’d know it since her sweet peach of an ass was still against it.
“Gotta take care of my hostage,” I whispered. “Especially since she hurts herself to be polite.”
I resisted the odd urge to kiss the back of her head.
She shivered, then squeezed my hand. “You wouldn’t make that mistake, would you?”
“Not too fuckin’ likely.”
She chuckled and shivered again.
“You cold?” I asked.
She didn’t answer but I felt her shake her head.
I ran my hand up and down her stomach and kept doing it until her breathing finally evened out.
***
I woke up, still spooning her. She was using my bicep as a pillow, and I was using the pillow she’d had under her head when I got in.
