Rev It Up (Black Knights Inc. #3)(78)

The receptionist glanced at her boobs, a spark of interest igniting his vacuous gaze. She didn’t have great, huge jugs like good ol’ Candy, but hers obviously worked in a pinch. Sir Smokes-A-Lot seemed to enjoy them.

“What didja have in mind?” he asked, pulling the cigarillo from his mouth and sucking on his stained teeth.

She smiled even as her stomach revolted at the sight.

Reaching into her top, she pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills. Peeling off two, she waved them through the bars. “How ’bout we start here. And then, once I get the rest of my money back…” she stuck a finger in her mouth, sucking it slowly before inserting it into her cleavage, “… I can give you a little freebie just to show my appreciation.”

The receptionist’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his dirt-ringed throat as he watched the movement, then he hastily licked his thin lips before turning and plucking a key from a hook on the wall. “Room 602,” he said and snatched the key back when she went to swipe it. “Now, I don’t want no mess to clean up,” he warned.

“Don’t you worry, sugar,” she purred, leaning in even closer, until her boobs smashed against the bars. “I want my money, not a jail sentence.”

He considered this bit of logic for a while before handing her the key. “I’ll be expecting my freebie when I get off at 2 a.m.,” he called to her when she turned toward the elevator, dragging Rock with her.

“Sure thing, sugar.” She blew him a kiss over her shoulder. “I can promise you at 2 a.m. you’ll be getting off, and then you’ll be getting off.”

The sound of his sickening chuckle gave her a good case of the heebie-jeebies, but she managed to control her shiver of abhorrence until the elevator doors closed her and Rock inside.

“I could’ve just threatened to shoot him,” Rock drawled, grinning down at her.

“Yeah,” she said, “but then he might’ve been inclined to make a call to the room and warn dear Johnny. This way, he’ll be inclined not to.”

Rock’s brows climbed up his forehead as his eyes pinged down to her halter top. “Who knew a pair of great funbags could come in so handy outside the boudoir.”

“You did not just use the term funbags,” she said, shooting him a look of disgust as the elevator doors chimed and opened to sixth floor.

***

“Get him upstairs and into bed,” Michelle said, setting her purse on the kitchen table and rolling her head around her shoulders. She didn’t remember ever being this exhausted, this emotionally wrung-out. Not only was her heart bloody and desecrated, but her entire body was one giant throbbing ache. Her bones actually hurt. “I’m going to try to call Lisa one more time.”

“You heard your mama,” Jake said, Franklin cradled in his strong arms, their matching dimples winking in their cheeks until she was forced to look away. “It’s up you go, little dude.”

“But I d-don’t wanna go to s-sleep,” Franklin cried, his bottom lip sticking out so far it was a wonder the thing was still attached to his face. The doctor had warned her that children his age often became emotional after surgery, after coming down off anesthesia. “And my b-belly hurts, Mama,” he sniffed and tucked his head up under Jake’s stubbled chin.

Her gut twisted into knots until it ached as much as her heart.

She checked her watch. “It’s time for another dose of pain meds,” she said, amazed she was still able to function given the nearly overwhelming urge to lay down on the floor and cry. Cry for the physical pain her son was in. Cry for the emotional pain she’d caused Jake. Cry for the spiritual pain she’d suffer only getting to see her son part-time. Just cry, cry, cry.

Of course, that would help no one. And, as a mother, she didn’t have that luxury. She dragged in a breath to steady herself before striding back to the table to dig in her purse. When she found the liquid medicine, she handed it to Jake along with the plastic measuring cup that’d come with it.

And this was how it was going to be from now on. This splitting of parenting duties…

Oh, God.

She barely beat back a sob of hysteria before gathering her courage once more and calmly instructing, “He’s supposed to get one tablespoon,” she instructed before turning to her son. “You want to finish watching Tangled, don’t you, sweetpea?” she asked.

He shoved his little thumb in his mouth and nodded, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “The horsh ish funny,” he said around the chubby digit.

“Yes,” she smiled weakly, leaning in to ruffle his hair and kiss his pale cheek. The smell of her little boy combined with Jake’s beachy aroma was an aromatic assault, reminding her of all the things she loved and all the things she’d already lost and was poised to lose still.

Joint custody…

The term sounded profane.

“That ol’ horse is funny,” she managed, though her throat was clogged with tears. “And I’ll be up to check on you and bring you some ice cream as soon as I call Miss Lisa.”

Franklin’s tired face crumbled, and he started crying in earnest. “I m-mish Mish Lisha,” he wailed, hiccupping.

Yeah, I know exactly how you feel. She wanted to break down right along with him…

“I think it’s time we got this little warrior dosed and into bed,” Jake observed, and she took a step back, nodding, watching the two of them cross the kitchen and disappear into the living room.