Losing Me, Finding You(29)

“The store?” I ask. Jodie sniffles and glares up at me with a slight smirk hovering around her lips. I'd love to slap her one day, just once. I make myself a note to try before I leave town. The girl could use a bit of humbling.

“Yes,” my mother hisses, slamming a brush down on the vanity next to her. “Go. To. The. Store. And get your cousin a bottle of ibuprofen for her headache.”

“And a vanilla milk,” Jodie says, pouting her lips and pointing to her belly. “For the cravings.”

“And some new tights,” my aunt says with a mouth almost as pursed as my mother's. “I've got a run in these ones.” Not much longer now, Amy, I tell myself as I step forward and take a wad of cash and a set of keys from my mother's outstretched hand. Not much longer at all.


Chapter 23


I leave Mireya asleep on my bed and head out in search of Kent. I figure the dumb f*ck is probably down at the bike show looking for ways to piss off Walker. I'd be surprised to find him anywhere else.

“Stupid son of a bitch,” I growl as I stalk through the lobby and out the front doors. Thing is, I'm not really sure if I'm referring to the Pres or myself. I don't feel right. Can't say what it is, but I'll have to figure it out later. My first priority right now is keeping my life together and my friends out of Triple M's shadows. I've lived in 'em long enough to know how to handle myself; this is my job now.

I step out into the sunshine and shield my eyes with my hand, searching the crowd and the rows of gleaming metal for Kent's dark hair and pale skin. I can't believe how white the damn man is. It isn't right, not for a biker. He's the only person I've ever met who lives on the back of a motorcycle and doesn't darken under the sun. Makes me think the *'s a vampire or some shit.

“If you're looking for the Pres, he ain't here.” I pause and turn to look at Gaine who's sitting on a bench nearby, arms slung over the back and dangling loosely. He looks like he's had the chance to shower and change, but it hasn't sweetened his expression any.

“No?”

“No. He left a little while ago.”

“Where?” Gaine shrugs, but his eyes glitter dangerously like maybe he knows something I don't. I tuck my hands in my pockets and watch him carefully. “What's the matter with you?”

“You're a good man, Austin,” he says, slipping a cigarette into his mouth. “But you're f*cking dense as shit.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask him, but Gaine's doin' that thing where he stares off into the distance like he's waiting for someone. I look at him real close, zoning in on the metal ring in his eyebrow and the muscle that's twitching in his forehead, like maybe I can figure out what he's thinking if I stare at him long enough.

“Hey,” he says, breaking my concentration. “Isn't that your friend over there? Hot damn, that is one, ugly, f*cking dress.” My head snaps up and I see her right off the bat. How could I miss her? Amy Cross stands out like a thumb on a handful of fingers.

She pauses like she can feel my eyes on her, but she doesn't look this way. Instead, she rushes forward and flings open the door to the grocer like she can't wait to get inside. I watch her go and I try to ignore the phantom feelings of Mireya's lips on my neck and her hands around my cock. Can't say I didn't enjoy myself last night. Mireya was just as good as she always is, but … Shit. I think Amy Cross's tight, little * has spoiled me rotten. My mouth waters at the thought of another taste of her. And then the guilt takes over, and I can't figure out where it's f*ckin' coming from.

“Better hurry before she scampers off,” Gaine says, wiggling his fingers and rolling his eyes. He stands up suddenly, groaning and letting his head fall back like the pain in his body is too much to take. “I'll distract Mireya.” Gaine opens his eyes and nods his chin towards me. One glance over my shoulder tells me all I need to know. Sawyer is coming out the front doors of the hotel dressed in leather pants with a pair of big, round sunglasses on her face. I don't know what it is, but the thought of talking to her right now doesn't seem all that appealing.

I look back down the block and my heart starts to pump at the thought of seeing Amy again. I don't like the way we parted last. I may not owe her shit, but I said I'd talk to Kent, and I'm a man that keeps his word. If she wants to join Triple M, who am I to stop her, right? Then I think about all the shit that's going down, and I start to get conflicted. Fuck. My head feels messed up, and I don't like it.

“Thanks, Gaine,” I say as I move past him, patting the broken heart tattoo on his shoulder. “I owe you one.”

And then I'm jogging down the damn sidewalk, weaving in and out of the crowd, moving past bikes that would normally give me a raging hard-on, ignoring them the same way I'm ignoring the street signs and the park benches and the trash cans. I don't stop until I hit the entrance to the grocer's and wrap my hand around the hot metal of the door handle.

Breathe, you stupid motherf*cker, I tell myself as I stand panting there in the shadows of the white and red awning. Folks are staring, but I can't blame 'em. I don't even know what the hell I'm doing here. I pause and take a step back, putting my hands on my hips and turning away, so I can close my eyes and let the hot smell of pavement and oil trickle into my nostrils, soothing away some of this … frenzy that I've got goin' on. Didn't you just get finished f*cking, Austin? I ask myself, feeling a burning down below.