Page 36 of Tattered on My Sleeve (Lost Kings MC 4)

“No way. The classes are too small for visitors. Besides, you’re more likely to draw attention than I am.”

  I can see him considering my words. “You asked how you could help me out,” I remind him. I consider skipping out of the house tomorrow before he wakes up. But that’s not how things work between us.

  “What if—”

  Using the best weapon at my disposal, I press my body against him and throw my arms around his neck. “If I take you to class with me, none of the women will be able to pay attention,” I say in a low, teasing voice. “I’ll slap the shit out of any woman eyeing my man. Is that what you want?”

  He blinks, his blue eyes deep as the sea. “I love how that sounds coming out of your mouth.”

  Then he takes my mouth in an almost worshipful kiss, leaving me willing to do anything he asks.

  I’m irritated Trin’s in Ironworks without me to protect her. One text to Birch asking him to keep a low-profile watch over her only makes me feel a tiny fraction better.

  Having her out of the house, though, gives me a chance to make some phone calls without worrying about Trin overhearing me. There are also some items I need to order. Z helps me find a few of the things on my long list. Fucker’s surprised and amused when I tell him what I’m after.

  Once that’s done, I gotta figure out how to get her out of the house again tomorrow.

  Like a grumpy bump on a log, I’m hanging out on the couch downstairs, flippin’ through channels when Hope joins me.

  “Hey,” she greets. “How’s the leg?”

  “Okay.”

  “You eat breakfast yet?”

  It’s sweet she wants to take care of me. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  She heads to the kitchen and I continue flicking the television remote. Why are there so many fuckin’ channels but nothing on?

  “Where’s Trin?” Hope asks when she returns.

  In enemy territory. “Out.”

  Surprisingly, Hope isn’t put off by my grumpiness. She tucks herself into the other couch. I glance over at her. She’s bundled up more than usual.

  “You cold?”

  She hugs her knees to her chest. “I’m okay.”

  After a minute, she blurts out, “Is that Thor’s hammer?”

  I turn and realize she’s been admiring my ink. Like the cocky asshole I am, I hold my arm out so she can take a good look. “Yeah.” Running my gaze over her, I ask, “You got any ink, Hope?”

  She shakes her head, and I’m not surprised. I take another look at her. Besides being dressed for a nap on an iceberg, she seems stiff.

  “Are you still in pain?”

  Her lip trembles and she hugs her knees tighter. “A bit. I stopped taking the pain pills because they made me loopy.”

  Christ, she just had surgery and she’s not taking anything at all for the pain. I guess she’s tougher than I give her credit for. I haven’t spent all this time being part of one of the largest grow operations on the East Coast without knowing some things about pain management. Sparky keeps all of us well-informed on the various medical uses of his marijuana. I lean forward and pull a stash of weed from the coffee table drawer.

  I hold up the box to her. “You smoke?”

  “No.”

  Somehow I don’t believe she’s never even tried it. “Never?”

  “You mean weed?”

  God damn she’s funny. “Yeah.”

  “I tried it in high school a few times.”

  “Well, well, you do have a little bit of bad girl in you after all.” I nod at the screen. “Come on, Fight Club is even better stoned.”

  She makes a face like there’s a hundred other things she’d rather watch before Fight Club, but eagerly takes the joint I hand her.

  After a few hits she’s staring off into space.

  “Feel better?” I ask.

  She snort-giggles, and rolls to the side. “Feeling no pain.”

  Oh, good God, what did I unleash?

  “Why’re you being so nice to me, Wrath?”

  Aw, shit. “I been mean to you, sugar?”

  More giggle-snorts. “Uh, duh. Yeah.”

  Shit she’s funny like this. I hand off the joint again and try to collect my fuzzy thoughts. “You proved yourself. You got enough love for Rock to accept all this shit. Known him more than twenty years. Went through lotta bad shit together. Never seen him cry once until that day in the hospital when he thought he might lose you.”

  Fuck, she’s tearing up and I can’t stand to see it. “Don’t you cry. Can’t handle females cryin’.” I try to say it teasingly, but it comes out a little harsh.

  “You think I’m too soft for Rock’s life. For the club, I know,” she says with a pitiful sniffle.

  Shit, how do I even explain the conclusion I’ve come to? “Yeah, sugar. I ain’t gonna lie. You’re soft. Took me some time to get it, but that’s what Rock likes about you so much. Your softness. Our world is hard most of the time, so I guess he needs that. You give him something he can’t find anywhere else.”

  Her lips curve up into a slight smile.

  “Besides, you’re a good girl. You’ve been tough when it counted.”

  I want her to understand if I’ve had reservations about her and Rock, it’s not because I don’t like her. It ain’t about that at all. “You realize I worry about your safety? You ever got picked up by one of our enemies… I can’t even think about it.”

  “Shit, Wrath,” she breathes out. This is where Rock’s reluctance to explain our world to her really pisses me off. “Hope, we’ve worked damn fuckin’ hard to strike a balance and keep our alliances tight.” I stare right at her so she understands how serious I am. “But this life ain’t easy on women.”

  “What about Trinity?”

  I’m surprised her first concern is Trinity and not, oh, I don’t know, herself. I think of the things Trin’s lived through and I want to fuckin’ choke someone. “She’s been through enough.”

  Her whole face softens. “You love her, don’t you?” she whispers.

  Love doesn’t quite describe how I feel about Trinity. Madly infatuated? Obsessed? Fucking furious we’ve wasted so many years hating each other. Frustrated she’s not ready to let everyone know she’s mine. “That girl’s made me work harder than anything in my life.”

  Hope doesn’t seem to know how to respond, which is fine, because I got nothing.

  She sniffles. “I miss him.”

  “Yeah. I know. I’m sorry, sugar. Shoulda been me on that run.”

  “What is this ‘run’ anyway? Rock never said.”

  I roll my eyes at her. She should know better by now. “Club business.”

  “Ohhhhh.” She falls over on her side laughing. “Top secret, big, bad biker stuff. I get it.”

  “You are soooo fucked up right now.”

  My phone buzzes against my thigh, and I yank it out of my pocket. Rock. Perfect timing.

  “Yo,” I answer.

  “Hey. Where’s Hope? She’s not answering her phone. She okay?”

  Hello to you too, asshole. “Yeah, she’s right here.”

  “Where’s here.”

  I kind of want to fuck with him and say my bedroom but I don’t. “Living room.”

  “Doin’ what?”

  “Gettin’ her high.”

  “What the fuck?! I’m gonna rip your fuckin’ head off!”

  “Is that Rock?” Hope yelps as she holds out her hands. “Gimmie, please!”

  Jesus Christ. I hand over the phone.

  “Hey, baby,” Hope coos.

  Christ, I wish I didn’t need the crutches. I’d run the fuck away so I didn’t have to listen to this.

  “Yes, he’s been a perfect gentleman.”

  Well, now she’s just making me look like a pussy.

  “Not if I spank you first.” Seriously? Is there a bucket around here I can hurl into?

  They do their nauseating goodbye thing which takes forfuckingever, before finally hanging up and Hope hands me my phone.  “He threatened to kick my ass you know,” I inform her.

  “I don’t ever want to see you two trade punches.”

  I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted. “He can hold his own.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  We’re quiet for a minute or two. Hope’s not into the movie. She starts playing with her hair. “I need to get my hair trimmed,” she says absently.

  Ding! The perfect way to get Trinity out of the house has just been dropped in my lap. Thank you, Cinderella. “You and Trin should go out tomorrow. Do some sort of girly salon day thing.”

  Hope seems to consider the idea. “Does she…? She’s not really the girly type.”

  Just then, the front door slams shut. Speaking of my little angel. “Jesus, it fucking reeks in here!” Trinity sniffs. “Goddammit, Wyatt. Did you get her high? Rock’s gonna kill you.”

  “Yeah, he already chewed me out.” I hold out my hands to her, but she sits next to Hope and takes the joint out of her hand.

  “Hey!” Hope shouts.

  I’ve got the perfect excuse to get them out of the house tomorrow. “Trin, Hope wants to go get her hair cut. Can you take her tomorrow?” I ask her casually.

  Trin nods and glances at Hope’s hair. “Sure. Girl I know owns that pin-up salon downtown. She always fits me in. I’ll text her later.”

  Hope wrinkles her nose. “I’m not too nerdy for that place?” she asks, completely serious.

  Trinity flashes a grin at her. “No.”

  Now I just have to pray like fuck they go early enough.

  Wrath’s awfully eager to get us out of the house this morning.

  “What time did your friend say she’d get you guys in?”

  “Eleven.”

  “You should probably leave early in case you can’t find parking.”

  My eyes search his face. He’s up to something, I just can’t figure out what.

  No matter how impatient Wrath gets, Hope’s impossible to hustle out of the house. “We’re going to a salon, you don’t need to do your hair,” I mutter after watching her mess around for the last fifteen minutes.

  “You’re right.”

  Finally.

  Wrath catches my hand at the door. “This is for both of you.” He presses a wad of cash into my palm.

  “Wrath—”

  Against my ear he whispers, “Don’t argue with me.”

  The no-bullshit tone and his words spark a shiver of desire and now I don’t want to leave. “Yes, Wyatt.”

  His mouth curls into a sexy, arrogant smirk. “That’s my girl.”

  I swear my legs are wobbly as I walk to the Jeep. Hope’s oblivious and chatters away as we head downtown.

  We’re lucky enough to find a spot in front of the salon. They fit us in right away.

  “Krystal, you think you can do one of those dip dyes on the ends of my hair?” I’ve been wanting to do it forever, and for some reason, I’m feeling brave today.

  She runs her fingers through my hair. “Oh yeah. You want to do the peacock blues we talked about last time?”

  “Yup.”

  “Cool, let me go mix up some color. I’ll do from here down.” Her hand skims over my hair from a spot between my shoulder blades to the ends.

  Hope’s done way before I am, so she perches in the chair next to me and watches.

  “So where did you sneak off to the other day? Wrath flipped his shit.” I ask as we wait for the color to soak into my hair.

  She blushes and looks away. “I took Heidi out.”

  “Oh. Nice.” Now it’s my turn to look away.

  “Why do you think she doesn’t like you?” Sometimes I don’t think Hope understands what my role in the club is.

  “Do you honestly want to know?”

  She shrugs. “If you want to tell me.”

  When I don’t answer right away she surprises me. “I assume it has something to do with Murphy?”

  “Sort of.”

  Her shoulders lift again. “It’s really none of my business, Trinity.”

  I relax a notch. She seems to honestly mean it.

  When we’re finished, I talk her into the lingerie store next door under the pretense of grabbing something for Rock’s return. But really I want to find something to surprise Wyatt with.

  Except when I squeeze myself into the black and royal blue, lacy halter bra and matching ruffle trimmed garter skirt. I feel ridiculous instead of sexy. It doesn’t help that I can’t figure out how to get the damn thing hooked right. Completely mortified, I call Hope in to help.

  After closing the door, she stops and stares sat me. “That thing was made for you. It looks gorgeous with your new hair. Wrath’s going to flip.”

  “No, no, it’s not—”

  She gives me an incredulous look. Why am I even bothering to deny what’s so freakin’ obvious?

  I twist and turn, checking out every angle in the full-length mirror after she leaves. I look silly. Don’t I?

  My phone buzzes.

  How’s it goin’?

  Wrath checking up on us.

  The phone’s already in my hands. Do I dare? Before I lose my nerve, I strike an awkward-sexy pose, snap a picture and send it with my reply.

  Should I get it?

  He responds almost immediately.

  Fuck, yeah.

  My phone buzzes again.

  Don’t tease. You better get it.

  I don’t answer. The wondering will do him some good.

  Thank fuck the girls finally got the hell out of here. The damn Fed Ex truck pulled up to the gate maybe five minutes after Trinity’s car cleared it. I have to call downstairs for Stash and Sparky to come help me carry the boxes into Trinity’s room. This invalid shit is getting old.

  “Holy fuck, man, what the hell did you get her?” Stash asks after getting a good look at the boxes. Sparky mumbles something about his plants needing him and takes off the minute the boxes hit the ground.

  Self-conscious under my brother’s stare, my left hand reaches up to rub the back of my neck. “Eh, like a thank you for letting me invade her room, you know?”

  Stash isn’t buying a word of it.

  Once I get everything situated the way I want it on the new desk—facing the door, so it’s the first thing she sees when she walks in—I go wait in the living room. I’m so fucking bored. I’ve never been so inactive for so long in my life. The only good thing has been enjoying all this extra time with Trinity. Getting to know her better. Every second with her has made this shit worth it.

  My phone pings with a text from Trinity.

  Holyfuckingshit.

  I don’t know what the hell she and Hope are up to, but there’s a half-naked picture of my little angel waiting for me on the screen.

  Should I get it?

  What kind of fucking question is that?

  Fuck yeah.

  I fire back.

  After seeing that picture, waiting for their return is excruciating. I’m half hard the entire time. Teller and Dex drop by to fill me in on what’s going on down at my gym and I struggle to focus on the conversation.

  Finally, the girls walk in. Hope’s carrying a bunch of bags, but turns to thrust one at Trinity.

  “Get anything good?” I ask as casually as a guy trying to hide a boner can.

  A sly grin curves Hope’s mouth and she dashes to the stairs. Once she hits the landing, she shouts back, “Nothing but some sexwear.”

  She giggles all the way down the hall.

  Something like a growl rips out of my throat and my gaze focuses one hundred percent on Trinity, who’s busy edging toward the hallway.

  “Whatcha got, Angel Face?”

  She shakes her head, drawing my attention to her hair. Grasping the stupid crutches, I pull myself off the couch and swing over to her. I pick up a handful of hair, sifting the silky strands through my fingers. “I like it. Very pretty.”

  A flush spreads over her cheeks. I love the way my tough-as-nails Tri

nity blushes.

  “Thanks.” Her shoulders lift in an embarrassed shrug. “Something different.”

  “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

  Her cheeks turn even pinker.

  I hate that I still have to use these crutches. What I want to do is take her hand as we walk to her room. Or swing her up into my arms, carry her, kick open the door and throw her on the bed. I’m so distracted I briefly forget about the surprise waiting for her inside.

  When we reach her door, I’m almost too excited to follow her inside. She stops dead over the threshold, jaw dropping.

  “Wyatt, what is this?”

  “For you, babe.”

  The bag in her hand hits the floor with a light thump. Yeah, I haven’t forgotten the bag of sexwear. I dip down, pick it up and toss it on the bed, ‘cause we’re so exploring that later.

  As if she’s approaching a rattlesnake, Trinity inches toward the new set up. Confusion clouds her face as she turns to me. “I don’t understand.”

  “What’s to understand? I got you everything you should need for your business.”

  “How? Why?”

  “Uh, how—there’s this magical thing called the Internet where you can order things and poof, they show up at your door.” She’s so stunned, she doesn’t respond to my teasing. “Why—I want you to have everything you need. It makes you happy and you’re good at it. I don’t want you to wait.”

  “Wyatt. It’s too much. I can’t—”

  I cut that off right the fuck away. “Oh yes you can. I’ve known you eight fucking years. I’m completely ashamed that I’ve never gotten you a birthday or Christmas present or anything ever. I owe you something big.”

  Her mouth twitches at the corners a bit. “I hate my birthday, anyway.” Something sad and vulnerable makes her voice raw, so I know she’s not just making a joke.

  Leaning the crutches against the wall, I hop over to the bed and drop down. With the sweetest, awed expression, she approaches her new desk. “God, Wyatt, all of this had to cost you thousands of dollars.”

  My shoulders jerk up. So fucking what? I live at the clubhouse and stuff pretty much all the money I earn with the club in the bank. My expenses are minimal. The only things that matter to me in this world are the club, my bike, my gym, and Trinity. And not in that order either.