Sinner's Revenge (Sinner's Creed MC #2)(13)
“I’m not f*cking leaving. But if you call me ‘man’ one more time, I’m breaking your jaw.” He’s serious, but I still smile. “I got some company coming to the clubhouse tonight. I figured she might help you sleep,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Who?” Like it matters. They are all the same. They all feel the same, smell the same, and when I dare, they taste the same.
“Monica. So try to sober the f*ck up. You’re getting on my nerves.” Even though he acts pissed, he gets me. He doesn’t take my shit, but he knows how hard it is for me to walk through the door of Dirk’s house. That’s probably why he told Monica to meet us at the clubhouse. And why he hasn’t rearranged my face yet. I’ve seen him fight. He’s good.
Rookie pulls me up from the porch—the bag he’d retrieved from his bike slung over his shoulder. I’m glad that nighttime is finally here. I hate looking at everything that reminds me of Dirk and Saylor. But the guilt of seeing it when I’m f*cked up would be even worse. I didn’t want to disgrace this place. The first time Saylor walked through the door, she made it a sanctuary for her and Dirk. I wanted to keep it that way. But if I went in like this, I’d be failing. Miserably.
I stop at the threshold just as Rookie opens the door. The smell of citrus hits me in the face—the scent of Saylor. For a moment, I feel like I can do it. But it disappears just as quickly when I see that nothing has changed. The evidence of the last night Dirk and Saylor spent in this house still remains. Even after we’d buried Saylor, I’d sat silent on the couch next to Dirk while he stared blankly around the room—reliving her last moments over and over.
I sober slightly at the reminder of that night. Dirk’s last words echo inside my head. “She’d want you to have this.” My hand moves to Saylor’s diary I keep inside my cut—close to my heart. The wound is still fresh. The pain is still too real. I swallow back the tears that threaten and shake my head at Rookie.
“I can’t.” He shuts the door without a word, looking at me with understanding in his eyes. He knew I couldn’t do it. But he knew I had to try.
“You know you gotta do this one day, Shady. You can’t hide from it forever.”
I look around the porch, unable to stop the memories of me and Dirk standing in this very spot from resurfacing. My chest aches and my eyes burn as I think about Christmas here. Thanksgiving. Saylor’s sleepover. How at home they made me feel and how easy it was to think of it as mine. I’d never had a real home of my own. Now I do. And I can’t even walk inside.
The frustration with myself begins to take its toll, just like it did every other time I did this. I pull a cigarette out and light it. When I look up at Rookie, he’s already nodding his head. He knows what’s coming, and like the good brother he is, he doesn’t ask questions. He just accepts it.
“Let’s ride.”
The ride to the clubhouse is short, but I’m almost sober by the time we get there. My thoughts have a way of doing that to me. After a cold shower, my buzz has completely faded and I’m wide awake.
Instead of going to a room, Rookie sprawls out on the couch while I take a seat in the recliner. He says he likes being close to the door. But I know it’s because he doesn’t want to leave me alone. And keeping good on his word, Monica walks through the door minutes later.
Like she isn’t already high enough, she stops at the bar to down a shot and snort a line of Sinner’s Creed’s finest. Walking toward me in a halter top and cutoff shorts, she smiles. Monica is pretty with plenty of curves, thick legs, and long brown hair. She’s in her early thirties, but looks over forty. She’s always been good to me and my brothers, and every time I’ve had her, she never disappoints.
“Hey, baby,” she purrs, crawling onto my lap. My hand slides up her thigh, but there’s no reaction to my touch. I’m just another cock to her. “Long night?”
“Something like that.” I smirk, knowing she doesn’t really care about my night.
“Well, you just relax and let me take care of you. Tell Monica what you want.” Fuck. Even her voice is fake. And she’s speaking in third person. But my dick doesn’t seem to mind. He’s already hard with just the weight of her ass on him.
“I want your pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”
She beams. Probably because now she won’t have to fake an orgasm. She lowers herself between my legs, slowly unbuckling my belt as she stares at me with her big, sultry eyes. That look is fake too. She’s probably wondering what time her next appointment is. Or if she turned the coffeepot off.
I glance over at Rookie, who lays motionless with his hat over his face. How did he do it? Was Carrie worth resisting temptation?
“Quit looking at me, Shady. It’s f*cking weird. You’re getting your dick sucked. Look at her.” I laugh at his words, and Monica takes the time to laugh too. She probably thought I was talking to her. I guess that confirms that she might physically be here, but her mind is somewhere else.
When she eases my cock to the back of her throat, I don’t give a f*ck what she thinks. Or who she is. Or where I am. Or who’s watching. This bitch is a whore for this very reason. She pauses a moment, gagging slightly, before pulling me out of her mouth and smiling. Her eyes are watery and she’s breathing heavily, but she doesn’t let it slow her down.