Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(95)

I decided early on I should look into anger management before I even thought of having children. As it was, half the crap in our house was broken because I’d either thrown it at Cage or kicked the living shit out of it.

But for some reason, unknown to me and more than likely anyone who came within a mile of Cage and me, it worked.

Or, at least, it had been working for the past seven months. The future remained unknown. I could always head back to my mother’s place in San Francisco. Which I would. Especially if Cage kept demanding I be his beer wench.

Married or not, Cage did not own me.

I don’t care if the four letters, C-A-G-E, which had been tattooed around my left ring finger the night he married me, suggested otherwise.

“It is not the same f*ckin’ thing!” Deuce yelled as I crossed the kitchen, holding Cage’s bottle of beer like a baseball I was about to whip at him.

Cage gaped at his father. “Are you f*ckin’ kiddin’ me, you motherf*ckin’ hypocrite?”

“Now what?” I asked Ripper who stood a few feet from father and son, smirking.

“They started goin’ at it ’bout an upcomin’ job and I made the mistake of tellin’ ’em how alike they f*ckin’ sounded. Started up a new round of bullshit.”

Cage’s head whipped left and he glared at Ripper. “I am nothin’ like him.”

Deuce’s beer slammed down on the counter. “No f*ckin’ shit!” he yelled. “If you were, you wouldn’t be havin’ so much f*ckin’ trouble out in Oakland!”

Cage’s nostrils began to flare. “Who the f*ck said I was havin’ trouble?” he demanded. “Just ’cause I ain’t doin’ shit your way doesn’t mean I’m doin’ it wrong!”

Deuce’s nostrils began flaring as well. “Get your damn head outta your ass, boy. You keep this stupid shit up, I’m gonna promise you right the f*ck now, I ain’t ever gonna die. I’m gonna live for-f*ckin’-ever just to make sure you don’t run my damn club into the ground.”

Cage glared at his father, and unsurprisingly, Deuce glared right back at him.

Ripper burst out laughing and both Cage and Deuce turned their glares on him. Clutching his abdomen, Ripper doubled over, laughing harder.

“You should see your faces,” he gasped between laughs. “You two f*ckers look exactly the same. Fuckin’…priceless.”

“Shut up,” Deuce growled at the same time as Cage muttered, “Asshole.”

They turned their glares back on each other.

Exasperated, I shoved Cage’s beer at his chest, gave him a mock curtsy while flipping him off, before whirling around and quickly exiting the kitchen. Three morons in one room was just too much moron for me to handle.

“Give it back! Moooooooooooooommmmm! Devin won’t give it back!”

My back hit the stair railing as Devin came running by me, laughing hysterically, closely followed by his little brother. When they’d disappeared into the living room, the coat closet door opened and Kami peeked her head out.

“Was that one of mine?” she whispered, looking around the foyer.

“Kami, get out of the damn closet!” Eva snapped. “And put some clothes on!” Holding a red-faced and crying Damon in her arms, she paused in front of me. “Hey, Tegen,” she said. “When did you get here?”

The door to the coat closet opened wider and Cox poked his head out from behind Kami, who, from what I could tell, was half-naked. “About five minutes ago,” he said.

“Excuse me,” Kami said. “But I look better without clothes on.”

“Mom!” Diesel screamed. Cursing, Cox pulled Kami back inside the closet and slammed the door closed.

Reaching up, I pinched the bridge of my nose. Only five minutes in the West home and I already had a migraine from hell.

Sidestepping children, I hurried through the living room, then the family room where Harley was sound asleep on the couch, before bursting outside the back door and nearly collapsing onto the deck.

“Having fun?”

Danny, pretty in pukey-pink, sat on the top of the railing, a joint pressed between her lips. Taking it between her index and middle finger, she pulled it from her mouth and offered it to me.

“It helps,” she said, smiling. “With the family-induced headache.”

“Hell f*cking yes,” I breathed.

Taking the joint from her, I took a long, throat-burning drag and held it for as long as I could before blowing it out in a coughing burst.

“How’s it going with the book?” she asked.

I took another drag before answering.

“Three more rejection letters,” I said, shrugging. “Apparently, no one wants to read about the mismanaged priorities of American society.”

Danny grinned as she gestured for the joint. I handed it back to her, then hefted myself up on the railing beside her.

“It’s cool,” I said. “I started something else, a lot tamer, more mainstream. Romance fiction. Boring, actually. You’d probably love it.”

Danny cut her eyes at me. “Don’t start with me, little sister.”

“Why not?” I asked, grinning. “It’s so much fun.”

“Have I ever told you,” she said, glaring at me, “how perfect you and my brother are for each other?”