I need to wait for the right moment. I have to get him to let his guard down. I’m sure he has been expecting me to try something, anticipating my every move as his eyes flicker to me subtly every few seconds. I pretend not to notice and dip my sausage in the maple syrup.
After a few quiet minutes pass, I ask, “How’s your sister?”
He takes a drink of his coffee before he answers me. “She’s good. Misses you. She has a little boy now. He’s three. Mean little shit.” He laughs as though he is thinking of something rotten the kid did.
“I uh…I hope she’s happy.”
I miss Keisha too. We were close. She was one of my only friends but when I decided to cut Wrecker out of my life, I had to let go of our friendship as well. I knew if we stayed friends it would be all too easy to be around her brother and be tempted to let him back in and I couldn’t chance that. We were inseparable, attached at the hip when I wasn’t with her brother, but even before that she was my greatest friend. I remember her green eyes that closely resembled her brother’s. There was no way I could see her and not think of him. Thinking of him was the last thing I wanted to do. As much as it hurt to do so I had to cut her out. I needed a fresh start, and I couldn’t do it with the constant reminders of what he did.
“She is most the time. They call her Lil Mama at the clubhouse.”
“She’s a clubgirl?” I ask, shocked. I thought Wrecker would kill any man who dared to go near his little sister. I can’t imagine her being one of those girls. I can’t believe Wrecker let that happen.
“Not exactly,” he mumbles and pauses as though there is more he wants to say.
I nod wanting to ask more but not wanting to seem too interested in what goes on with the club, because I gave up caring a long time ago what any of them do with their lives. But still, I wonder what happened to Keisha. I wonder who the father of her son is? And then Wrecker answers my unasked question and I wished he hadn’t.
“He’s your little brother.”
“What!” I spit out, nearly choking on my toast.
“Yeah, Keisha came by looking for me and fell on your old man’s dick.” He shrugs, but I can tell it bothers him. If it were any other man I am certain he would have put a bullet in their head. Wrecker cherished Keisha. Even though he’s only around six years older than her he raised her. Their mother wasn’t around much and their dad left when she was a baby.
For once, I’m speechless. Did she fuck him to get back at me for cutting her out of my life? She has always known how much I hated my father for his cheating ways, and knocking up sluts around town. How could she do this? Fuck her. She can get in line with the rest of his whores.
Wrecker finishes off his coffee and pats his stomach.
I should push thoughts of my father and Keisha aside. I need to make my move.
“I need to go to the bathroom. Why don’t you pay the bill and I’ll meet you outside?”
“I’ll wait by the door for you,” he says with a grunt.
“Look at where we are? Where in the hell am I going to go?”
“Fine, but you better not pull any bullshit,” he warns.
He gets up and lets me out of the booth, but making sure our bodies touch. God, he is such an ass. A sexy ass that I’d like to shoot.
I go to the bathroom and hide by the door, looking for an escape. That whore waitress immediately approaches Wrecker and with his attention on her I take my chance, darting into the kitchen and running straight for the back door that is marked by an exit sign overhead.
I dash to the cars that are parked in the back lot, praying one of them is unlocked and that I don’t set off any alar
ms.
Bingo. I find a S-10 truck that even has the keys in it. I grin and sneak around the front to Wrecker’s motorcycle to grab my bag.
I should have known something was wrong. I should have been paying attention to my surroundings, but I am eager to get the hell away from the man who tore my heart out and stomped on it. If I had taken my time I would have noticed that the outside pole light had been busted out. I would have heard the glass shards crunch under my boots if I wasn’t practically singing to myself with excitement about how easy it was to get away from him.
I don’t even get within five feet of Wrecker’s motorcycle before a hand clamps over my mouth. I don’t panic, I bite down with my teeth as hard as I can until I taste blood then rear my foot up into the crotch of my would-be attacker.
“Oomph. The bitch fucking bit me,” a man with a thick voice calls out as I twist from his hold.
Another guy comes at me but he’s fat and slow. I could probably take him and think about it until I see there is a third man, flashing his gold tooth at me. This leaves me two options; I can try to get to my bag and go for my gun or I can make a run for the diner, for Wrecker—the lesser of two evils. Then the minute he is occupied with my would-be attackers I can go for the truck.
I dart past the fat man and he lunges for me, falling to his knees, swearing, and trying to catch his breath. I make it to the entrance right as the third man hooks an arm around my waist. I kick out, sending my foot into the glass of the front door of the diner shattering it.
Wrecker comes charging through the shards of broken glass unaffected by the pieces that bite at his skin. He looks terrifying and sexy as hell as he storms toward us with his gun cocked.