Reign (Sin City Outlaws #1)(50)

“I’m going to fill it, just in case.”

I pull into a pharmacy, and drop the script off at the counter. Bubble bath. The doctor said something about her getting a bath to help.

Finding the aisle for bath products, I’m dumbstruck. They have every f*cking scent for bubbles—cupcake, lavender, cookies and cream. I grab the cupcake one, the sprinkles catching my eye. The thought of bubbles on Jillian’s tits makes a throaty growl rumble from my lips. Sprinkles and bubbles on Jillian is an even better idea. My dick springs to attention. Standing in the bubble aisle at a pharmacy, staring at bottles of soap while sporting a teepee with my dick, is not my best moment.

“Can I help you?” My head snaps to my right, finding a little blonde store clerk staring at me with that dreamy look.

“Yeah. I don’t know which one to get.” I set the cupcake one down.

She slowly trails her tongue along her pink, glossy lips. “You look out of place over here.” She giggles.

“I’m sure I do.” I smile. I’m about as tall as the damn display.

She slides her finger seductively along the bottles. “Is this for you, or someone else?”

“Does it matter?”

She shrugs and gives me a sideways glance.

“Well, if you’re just wanting a little more lubricant for yourself, then I would suggest a thicker liquid. But if it’s for a woman friend, like a girlfriend,” her tone goes dry, her face turning into one that looks unamused, “then it’s whatever. Get the Mr. Bubble.”

The word ‘girlfriend’ sucks the wind from my lungs. Taking a deep breath, I run my palm down my face.

“It’s for a girl who is a friend. One I like to have sleepovers with. I mean, one I’d like…” I shake my head, my words not making any f*cking sense.

She rolls her eyes, grabs the Mr. Bubble and hands it to me.

“Here.” I take the bottle from her hand, noticing it doesn’t look near as flashy as the others.

“Really, this one?” I ask, eyeing the frilly labeled ones on the counter.

“It gives the most bubbles. The others smell good, though. You could maybe mix them.” She turns and walks back to the counter.

“Fuck it.” I grab the cupcake and one that says ‘sugar sprinkles’ along with the Mr. Bubbles.





JILLIAN


Zeek comes out, carrying a bag of things. What the hell did he get?

He throws the bag in the back seat and pulls out of the parking lot. My leg hurts, my neck feels tight, and my ribs ache. That wreck really did a number on me. The doctor gave me medicine, but I’m not one to take meds unless I absolutely have to. Hopefully, the pain doesn’t get much worse, though or I’ll definitely have to.

The ride to my place is quiet, giving me time to think, which is just stressing me out more.

Arriving finally, Zeek steps in, shuts my door and locks it. He acts paranoid, and that has me on edge.

“Are we safe?” At first, I wasn’t sure about him coming home with me, but I feel safer knowing he’s here.

His eyes narrow. “I’m not sure.”

Crossing my arms, I pop my hip out. “How can you not be sure, Zeek? You’re the damn president. Why did your club attack me? Isn’t that something you would know about—hell, order even?”

He drops the bag on the floor, his eyes flashing with anger. Uncrossing my arms, I swallow hard.

“I can assure you, Jillian, I didn’t order the hit on you.” He grips the back of my head and brings my face close to his. “You’d think I would f*cking know what’s going on in my own club, but I don’t.” That last part hurts him; I can tell by the way his face softens.

“Do they know about us?”

Letting go of my head, he shakes his.

“I’m not sure.”

“If they did, would they kill you and me both?”

His chest rises. “Let’s not talk about it anymore.” He just threw up that wall, the wall not talking about the club, or the shit that goes on within it.

My phone rings in my pocket. Fishing it out, I see it’s my dad.

“Hello?”

“Jillian! Are you okay? I’ve been trying to call.”

“Yeah, just a little banged up. The car is totaled.” That will go in my file.

“Jesus.” He sounds stressed. “No leads on who did it?”

I look at Zeek, his eyes serious.

“No, it all happened so fast.”

“We’ll go over your camera, see if we can pull anything. You need me to come by? Your mom made a casserole.” Panic rises in my chest. If he comes here, he’ll see Zeek.

“No, I’m fine. The doctor gave me some meds, so I’m just going to take some and go to bed.”

“Okay. I’m sure you’re tired. Why don’t you take a few days off, and I’ll call tomorrow and see if you need anything.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” My eyes dart to Zeek, who is watching me, making me nervous.

“Love you, Jilly Bean.”

I smile, my eyes wanting to prick with tears over lying to him.

“Love you, too.”

“Everything okay?” Zeek questions as soon as I remove the phone from my ear.

Snapping out of my pity party, I toss my cell phone on the couch.