Friction (Oath Keepers MC Book 5) Page 2

  He gestures toward another door to the left. “Use watcha’ want. I’mma get you a snack, you can lay down if you need to rest. Something you craving?” He nods at my tummy.

  “Anything with peanut butter, please.”

  “Bet,” he replies and leaves me standing in the middle of his room.

  Silas was a pretty big neat freak, but that was from his OCD. He couldn’t help it; he had to have certain things in a specific way. This takes it to a new level entirely. You’d think the room was newly moved into or something, and Twist appears way too comfortable to just be joining the club.

  His room’s pretty bare: he has a nice desk, a fancy blue guitar, regular plain bedroom furniture, and no decorations. Just blank walls and clean surfaces. Weird. Maybe he’s not here much?

  Jumping in the shower, I relish in scrubbing my body clean in his dial soap. He has some beard shampoo so I use that for my hair. It’s probably better than nothing. There’s only one towel hanging up. I feel bad using his stuff like that, but he offered, and I’m too tired to really care at the moment.

  I don’t have any clean clothes in here, and I don’t want to put my dirty ones back on. I wonder if he would care if I at least borrowed a shirt. Shrugging, I help myself and nose through his closet, coming away with a pair of army sweat pants and a basic shirt.

  It’s perfect. Once I dress, I decide that lying down for a little while won’t hurt; I’ll fix his bed again when he comes back.

  My head hits his pillow and it smells like pure man heaven. Geez, I’ve hated being so alone during the first portion of my pregnancy. A man’s scent can do wonders for a woman, and a face like that? God.

  My legs clench tightly as I picture him, but don’t get much further as I drift off into a deep sleep.

  She likes peanut butter, huh? 2 Piece and I have our differences, but I would want him to take care of my sister if she showed up. Doesn’t matter, I don’t even gotta sister. Regardless, she looked like she was about to fall over where she stood, least I can do is make her a peanut butter sandwich.

  I wonder if she’s getting enough calcium. I’ll bring her a glass of milk too. Cain won’t mind if I use his. And potassium, I’ll bring her one of Ares’ bananas; he doesn’t care. We need a tray or some shit. Rooting through the cabinets, I come back empty handed, but we have a large plate the whores use to display food, so that should work.

  I pile everything on the plate, grab a few paper towels, and head back to my room. The chick’s probably starving. Fuck, she’s gorgeous! Just like a bright ray of sunshine with those long blonde locks and deep tan all put together with some cherry red painted toes. Her being pregnant just makes her even sexier. I love a woman with hips, gives you somethin’ to hold onto. Only thing better would be to paint her lips red to match.

  My pants grow tighter as I start to get a chubby. Not much I can do about it right now though. Just the thought of her with red lips and them wrapped around my cock makes me groan with need.

  I pass Cain in the hallway and he chuckles when he sees me loaded down. “You making me lunch next?”

  “Fuck you. Ask Cupcake to get your shit; she’s your bitch, not me.”

  “No, I’m good bro, she made me some lasagna.” He flashes a smile and I use my empty hand to throw him the bird.

  Fucker’s spoiled by London. Lucky bastard. Cupcake’s a good woman; I don’t blame him for locking that shit down so quickly. I think we all would’ve done the same, given the chance we were to meet someone like her.

  My room’s quiet when I arrive; no running shower, just a sleeping Goldie Locks in the middle of my bed. Her damp hair’s spread out behind her. It’s so long; I noticed it right away and how it goes all the way down to her ass. Her petite hands are tucked under her cheek, and her lips are parted allowing soft quiet breaths to escape. That mouth is enough to make a man sin.

  Setting the platter down, I continue my perusal. Definitely wearing my T, which is sexy as all hell. My gaze travels further, her legs just positioned enough I can make out ‘ARMY’ spelled down the other leg and it feels like someone sucker-punched me. Marissa.

  My wife wore those pants all the time, then my T shirt and her blonde hair. Fuck. I begin to hyperventilate, so I rush to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking myself in. I want to puke, but I stop myself. I’ve lost too much weight as it is, with the dreams and flashbacks.

  My back hits the wall, and I slide down it until my ass lands on the ground, my hands yanking at my hair roughly as the voice starts. Her voice. My daughter.

  She’s pwetty, Daddy.

  I can’t talk right now, baby. I think and take deep breaths.

  Touch hew hair, Daddy; it’s soo long.

  Shhh, please! Not now, baby.

  Wrenching up to my feet, I shuck my clothes and get into the shower. Turning the spray as cold as possible, my eyes squeeze closed, trying to get my little girl to quiet for the moment. I love talking to her, but I can’t do it right now with Sadie here. It’s not normal to talk to your kid all the time in front of people, when she’s fucking dead.

  Dead. I repeat and gag.

  The tears come as that word plays over and over in my mind. Gone. No more. Fuck, I hate this world!

  I’m under the cool water for probably a good hour until I can finally calm down and collect myself enough to get out. I don’t have to look at her. I can walk straight past and go to the bar. I’ll keep my fucking eyes closed if I have to. I can’t see those pants and hair together; it’s too many memories at once.

  When I open the bathroom door, though, I’m caught off guard. She’s no longer sleeping but awake and happily eating her sandwich.

  “Thank you, Twist.” She smiles, and my breath catches at her beauty.

  “No problem.”

  “I borrowed some clothes; mine are in my car still. I hope you don’t mind.” Her kind eyes meet mine, her face still flushed from being warm as she slept.

  I want to tell her she’s not allowed to touch those pants, but something holds me back. She looks completely adorable in my clothes, so I keep in the past what those clothes used to represent. “Naw, you’re good,” I mumble, and choke my anxiety down.

  She finishes her sandwich quickly with a few bites and gets up to fix the bedding.

  “Sunshine, you ain’t gotta do that; I can get it.”

  “But it was so nice before, and I wrinkled it all up. It’s okay; I don’t mind.”

  “Naw, sug’, I don’t want you bending like that, especially after that trip. You need to take it easy.”

  “Damn it, this high-risk thing is going to drive me crazy,” she mumbles, not realizing that I know exactly what that means. I may not have been there for my wife enough when she was pregnant, but I paid attention to stuff that could hurt her, and high-risk was something that I read about in a few of the baby books.

  “How long you been high-risk?”

  She glances up, surprised. “Umm…Just a few weeks.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “That’s why I’m here. I can’t work anymore and stuff.”

  “So you drove all the way here by yourself?” She’s not even mine and I wanna spank her for being so fuckin’ careless.

  “Yeah, I had to; my brother wasn’t picking up or calling back.” Her eyes tear up, and instead of griping about it, I nod and hold my hand out to her.

  “All right, Sadie baby, let’s go see your brother.”

  If he’s not up by now, too fuckin’ bad. I’ll wake his ass up myself. She drove that long-ass distance and he should have gotten his lazy ass up when she first got here.

  Sadie places her hand in mine, and fuck me, if it doesn’t feel good to actually hold someone’s hand again. It’s been such a long time since I showed anyone that I care even a little. Just who is this chick and why the fuck do I not want to let go of her hand?

  Stars can’t shine without darkness.

  -Unknown

  My eyes part and it looks like I’m stuck with another day in this fucked up world. I’m so
glad the dreams didn’t come last night. I can only handle seeing their dead bodies so many times before I lose my shit and make the brothers think I need to be locked in a hospital or some other fucking institution. I’d like to think they wouldn’t, but who can blame them when I can’t stop the screaming at night or the voices in my head.

  As if losing my wife and baby girl wasn’t bad enough, I’m forced to wake up and deal with it every goddamn day of my life. I tried to end it a few years ago, running my car into an old tree, but I lived through that shit too. Then I had my mom in my hospital room crying her eyes out making me swear to never attempt to take my life again, and preaching about how I have something goin’ on in my mind called TBI or Traumatic Brain Injury. Whatever the fuck that is. I gave in and promised her, but there are plenty of nights I get so fucked up that I hope I don’t wake up.

  Speaking of… Leaning over to my nightstand, I open the bottom drawer and grab the little dish with my baggie of coke, rolled up twenty-dollar bill, and razor blade. Nothing like a little pick-me-up when first waking up.

  Using the razor blade, my shaky right hand lines up a nice size bump to get my day started. I snort up the white powder of wonder; the feeling of it climbing higher in my nose is completely serene. It’ll help me get through the day till I can start drinking.

  The clock says eleven-thirty in the morning, so there should be shit for a sandwich in the fridge, courtesy of the club whores, and I may be able to eat a little. I need somethin’. The only reason I’m holding on any weight at all is from Cain’s protein shit he has me drink—the same shit he uses to build muscle. With Cain being a muscle head, I was fairly surprised to find out he’s not a total shit for brains, but actually pretty smart. Fuckin’ stereotypes are nothing but bullshit! He’s a good fit for the club too.

  “Mmm, what are you doing?” Sadie murmurs sleepily, and I shove the small tray back in the drawer, rubbing my hands over my nose to make sure nothing is left behind for her to see. I don’t know what she thinks about coke, and I don’t feel like finding out right now. She brought up her parents’ drug issues briefly last night, but she didn’t go into it, besides they have nothing to do with me anyhow. 2 Piece minds his own when it comes to any of our drug use, but I don’t know if Sadie will be the same way.

  “Nuthin’, did I wake you?”

  I offered to sleep on the floor while she took the bed, but she declared we should share, and I wasn’t about to argue with her sexy ass. 2 asked me to watch out for her yesterday and I gave him my word. Ever since then, she’s pretty much been glued to my hip—not that I’ve minded. I’ve honestly enjoyed having her around.

  “No, I was kind of awake, and then felt you move.”

  Turning over to face her, I’m met with sleepy eyes, wild hair and a belly that’s moving crazily. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. God, I wanna slide deep inside her and make her cry out.

  “You hungry, Sunshine?” I deflect, and nod to her baby moving around, making her stomach shift. Last night she told me all about how the little bean goes crazy kicking and rolling around when she gets hungry. Been a whole minute since I heard a woman talk so much, she covered all sorts of topics, keeping me entertained.

  “Yes, I’m starving. I want some pancakes really bad.”

  She stretches her arms above her head, causing the thin wife beater I gave her to crawl up and let the bottom part of her tummy hang out a little. She giggles briefly and pulls it back down, but that small glimpse is enough to make me want to run my tongue across that creamy piece of skin.

  I can’t think like that, its 2’s little sister for fuck’s sake. Try to picture her as a kid. She’s like eight years younger than me or some shit; I know it’s a lot.

  “I’m sure there’s somethin’. If you don’t want it, I’ll take you for some cakes, yeah?”

  “Sounds good.” She smiles, and it seems to light up the entire room.

  Pulling on a pair of jeans, my boots and cut, I quickly brush my teeth, grab some deodorant and my Axe body spray. I run a big tooth comb through my short beard and then my hair. That’s as good as it gets.

  She’s dressed when I get out of the bathroom; in fact, she’s got on some tiny, tight black yoga shorts and a light blue tank top.

  “Sweet heart, you gettin’ dressed?”

  “I already did. Is something wrong with my clothes?”

  “You can’t be dressin’ like that ‘round here. You’re in a biker club surrounded by horny men.”

  “I’m in regular clothes though.”

  “There ain’t nothin’ regular ‘bout how they fit you, darlin’. You got a nice little ass and some good size tits; people thinkin’ you a club whore is the last thing I want for you.”

  Sadie’s eyebrows raise in shock, and I can tell she wants to give me a smartass retort, but thankfully decides to take it easy on me and pulls on a pair of capris pants instead. She does the shit right in front of me too, giving me a nice view of her hot pink cheeky style panties and muscular thighs. She’s got just the right amount of meat on them to make me imagine gripping them while she rides my lap.

  This is going to be absolute torture.

  She leaves the tank top on and as much as it drives me nuts, I keep my mouth shut. Her swollen tits perk out of the low neckline on the tank, and fuck if it isn’t gonna be hard to not be starin’ all day. At least she’s smart enough to wear a bra. I swear if I saw a nipple, I’d bug the fuck out.

  Bad enough I’m gonna wanna hit every fuckin’ brother in the clubhouse. I shouldn’t feel protective over her at all. It’s 2’s sister, goddamn it. Maybe that’s what it is—the brotherly protection coming out.

  Nope. Pretty sure it’s ‘cause I wanna fuck her.

  “Ready?”

  “Uh, yeah, sugar.” Mumbling, I guide her out of my room and to the kitchen, sticking a toothpick in my mouth to keep my mouth busy. The coke makes my mouth feel weird and rather than chewing my lip off, a toothpick usually does the trick.

  Sadie searches high and low, finally finding a box of Bisquick mix toward the back of a high shelf.

  “Twist?” She calls over her shoulder, distracted. I’m sitting on the kitchen stool just watching her perky ass sway as she reaches for the box every which way she can. Her ass is fuckin’ divine.

  “’Sup?”

  “Could you hand me this box? Umm, I can’t get it and I’m not supposed to jump or reach a lot.” She turns around and finds me standing directly behind her, causing her to let out a startled squeak of surprise.

  “Yeah, babe.” I breathe and gaze at her strawberry colored lips. Not red, but close.

  “Th-thanks,” she whispers.

  Blinking away, I glance at the box and reach directly above her to get it. My body’s so close to her that I can feel her hot breath against my bare chest. Quickly I place the yellow box on the counter beside her and hurry back to the stool.

  Her breath on my skin made me stiff as a fucking board. I should’ve put on a damn shirt under my cut today. Jesus Christ, she’s fully clothed and my dick feels like it could break off, I can only imagine how it’d be if she was naked.

  “Hey, Sades,” 2 greets as he saunters into the kitchen and kisses her forehead like she’s a damn child.

  “Good morning.” She smiles, happy to see him and sprays cooking spray on the flat top cooker. She must be used to him kissing her like that, ‘cause it doesn’t faze her one bit.

  “Morning? You just got up?” He looks over at me suspiciously.

  “Yes, I was up late talking to Twist.”

  “What could you possibly have in common with Twist?” he grumbles, glowering at me.

  The question stings a little, but I get it. I’m fucked up inside, too warped for anyone to expect me to connect with a sweet chick like Sadie. If they only knew the reasons why I became so fucked up they might back off, but last thing I want’s for them to talk to me about it or some shit. I’d probably shoot a motherfucker.

  “I was asking him about the club, and he w
as nice enough to tell me when it was built, about you not having an apartment, and stuff like that—not that it’s your business.”

  “It is too. You’re my fuckin’ baby sister. You and Shorty here,” he nods to a quiet Avery, “are both my business, twenty-four-seven.”

  “I wish you would have thought of that when I called you instead of me driving all the way out here.”

  “Fuck! I know, and I’m sorry; really truly sorry, Sades. You’re here now though, so let’s make the best of it, yeah?”

  She doesn’t acknowledge his apology, which I find hilarious because it means she’s going to make him wallow for a bit before giving in. The way he’s flown through women the past few years, he deserves to be a little uncomfortable. Now he’s layin’ claim to Avery, he’s gonna have double shit to go through. He has no idea what it means to have a fuckin’ woman by his side and actually appreciate her. I’d do anything to have a chance to treat Marissa like a queen, and 2 was going through them like they were pieces of fuckin’ candy or something.

  “Do you want some pancakes, Avery?” Sadie asks and measures out the milk for the mix.

  “No, we just had lunch; but thanks.”

  Sadie nods and smiles, then pours heaping spoonfuls of batter onto the hot surface.

  “We have to go run some errands. You good, Sadie?” 2 interrupts.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. You guys go have fun.”

  “Shitty you gotta’ be stuck takin’ it easy.”

  “I know, but I have to take special care of this baby.”

  2 walks over, pulling her into a bear hug and whispers loudly, “So proud of the woman you’ve become. We’ll figure this all out, okay?”

  Sadie sniffles for a moment, then mumbles, “Okay.”

  “We’ll catch ya in a few.” 2 grins, grabbing Avery’s hand to pull her along behind him. They’re gone before we can even mutter a good-bye.

  Sadie digs through the fridge, coming back with some bacon. I watch as she drops it straight on the cook top, not realizing the grease is going to get her.

  She lets out a little yelp as a big grease bubble pops, splashing her arm, and I’m around that counter in a blink of an eye, pulling her away. She needs to watch what she’s doing and be careful.