Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)(15)

I picked at the vinyl seating, still hunched down in the floorboard, one of my knees smashing one of the donuts that escaped the box. “So they will tell on them?” I questioned, wiping the icing from my knee with a finger and bringing it to my mouth.

“Exactly.”

“Why would they tell on their friend?”

“Because,” he looked down at me, his brows narrowed. “I always find a way.”

“Shit. We can’t go in there, that guy could be in Frank’s pocket, you’d never know and we’d play right into his hands.” Zeek’s masculine voice pulls me from my trip down memory lane.

“Yeah, exactly what I said.” Sarcasm drips from my tone, earning me a sideways glance from Zeek.

“You whore, you know you blew him!” A half-naked girl hollers, catching up with a group of girls.

I lower my head, my lips pressing into a thin line. I would never fit in at a motorcycle club’s party. The way these girls just flaunt their bodies without a care in the world, it’s a courage I wish I had. I, on the other hand, pick at every flaw I have when I’m completely clothed.

I can feel Zeek staring at me, but I continue to look forward.

“You know you’re way sexier than them, right?” Tucking my bottom lip between my teeth I hide the smile wanting to slip through my insecurities.

“I’m nothing like them. They wear those sexy clothes, and make-up, I could never pull that off.” I hate how pathetic I sound.

“That’s exactly what I love about you. You’re everything they’re not.” My heart thunders in my chest, and my face warms with adoration. I hate how he can be a complete * one minute and then know exactly what to say the next. It hooks me every time.

“So now what do we do?” I cross my arms, ignoring his compliment. I’m too afraid if I respond he’ll say something even sweeter and I’ll melt into his arms. I need to resist him, for the sake of my father’s memory, if anything.

He rubs at his chin. “I have a friend who lives around here, I’ll hit him up and see if he can hold us up for a while, at least until that car disappears. Tonight we’ll stay here.”

“Here?”

“Yes, here, as in the back of the van. If we try and turn around we will draw attention. If that guy in that cruiser is with Frank, we don’t want him spotting us and calling him.”

Running my hands through my hair I growl, frustrated. “I really do have to pee, so you’re going to have to turn around and make a scene anyway.”

Zeek bends down, fishing something from the floorboard.

“Use this.” He hands me a mostly empty Gatorade bottle.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” I ask taking it from him.

“We ain’t moving from this spot, and you got to pee, so…” He nods toward the bottle, and my eyes flare when I realize what he’s suggesting.

“You want me to pee…in this?” I deadpan.

A sly smile crosses his face.

Scowling I shove past him, and head into the back of the van to pee.



Zeek



“CAN YOU AT LEAST take the cuffs off?” Jillian huffs from the back of the van.

“No. Last thing I need is you to run out there and make us both a target.”

“Gaaaah!” she growls, throwing shit around in anger.

“We tried it your way, the nice way. Remember that? Then you f*cked me over, and ruined that trust between us. Therefore you stay in the cuffs until I can trust you again. “

“Fuck you. You’re just a controlling *.” Her words are a slap to the face. I have no doubt I have controlling tendencies, but when you run a motorcycle club, it comes with the territory.

She shuffles back up front, and throws the bottle of piss at me, missing me completely and flying out the window.

And that is why I’m so obsessed with this infuriating woman, she doesn’t take my shit lying down.

“I hope you don’t have to piss again, ‘cause that was the only bottle.” I give her a big toothy grin, one to anger her, and push her buttons.

“I should go out there and get it, just to throw it at your head again,” she jabs.

A couple of drunk girls stride our way, and I sink into my seat. Jillian following the action.

“We should move to the back. I don’t want someone to recognize us.” Glancing in the back of the van, I notice a bunch of blankets, and no seats. A big hookah strapped against the side of the van so it won’t fall when the van is in motion. Fucking stoners.

Slipping into the back I arrange the pillows and blankets, Jillian following me.

She grabs a pillow, and fluffs it before lying down. Her back facing me. She moves her hair from her neck, bunching it above her head. Her silky neck coming into perfect view. It has a couple of beauty marks, and looks soft as f*ck. She sighs, and the white blouse that is too big for her, slips off her shoulder.

Fuck me.

I bite at my knuckles as my dick strains against my jeans painfully. I want to lick her shoulder, nip at the sensitive skin on the nape of her neck. Fist her hair, and f*ck her until her eyes roll in the back of her head.

Blowing out an agitated breath, I close my eyes trying to think about something else.

The Pledge of Allegiance comes to mind. Aren’t you supposed to sing that or some shit?