“She wasn’t just some babe, jerk off.”
“No, she was Max fucking Stonecypher’s daughter.”
I glare at Merrick. “Like I need reminding.”
“What you need is to get laid,” Ghoul says.
Merrick leans his thick forearms on the table. “So we’ve organized a little surprise for you.”
I give him a warning look. “I swear to God, Merrick, if you’ve asked a club girl to drop by my room, or a hooker, or anyone for that matter, I’m going to junk punch you so fucking hard.”
“Hey, what about the Hippocratic oath?” Merrick holds up his hands in surrender. “Besides, we didn’t organize a hooker.”
“No, we organized two,” Ghoul adds. “We figured you’ve got four months of joy languishing in your balls, and you might as well share it around.” He grins like a fucking Cheshire cat. “And two can be a lot better than one.”
Ghoul likes his threesomes and foursomes.
I should know.
I hear them through the bedroom walls.
I cover my face with my hands. I have no intention of indulging in hookers or club girls or any random hook-up for that matter. Since the UFO Hotel, I might've lost my discipline with alcohol and healthy choices, but I haven’t lost my mind. Once I start losing myself in women, I know it will be a long road back. Besides, I know what the real thing feels like, and there isn’t a good enough substitute on this Earth.
“I hate you guys right now.”
“Come on. You’ve been a buzzkill for months. All you do is mope around here like a fucking loser,” Ghoul says.
I know my brothers think I got played by Lily. Besides Jack, no one has come out and said it directly to me, but it’s what they don’t say that tells me. It’s also how they clam up in the rare occasion that I bring her up or the look that passes between them when I do.
And I get it.
She went willingly.
But they don’t know what it was like inside that hotel.
What she was like.
If they did, they’d know how hard it is to forget her. Even now, I think I’d forgive her for playing me, just so I could see her again. To touch her. Kiss her.
“I do a lot of things,” I say.
“Yeah, name one,” he challenges.
“I keep myself busy with the medic runs. And what about the Gannaway Ride? Who do you think helped this loser organize it?” I pick a peanut out of the bowl on the table and throw it at Merrick.
“It’s a good event. I’ll give you that,” Ghoul concedes.
“Best damn ride in the county,” Merrick says proudly.
“See… I do shit.”
“But you’ve changed, dude, and it’s our responsibility as your brothers to pull you out of this funk,” Merrick says.
“Starting with pussy,” adds Ghoul.
“Not everything is fixed with sex,” I say, growing weary of this conversation.
Ghoul arches an eyebrow. “It is if you’re doing it right.”
It’s hard to hate my brothers right now. Their hearts are in the right places, even if their intentions are way off.
But I get it.
I’ve changed since the kidnapping.
Little things bug me.
Things that didn’t bug me before crawl under my skin and worm their way into my brain until I’m a frustrated mess.
Like watching the love-sick expressions of Jack and Bronte every time they look at each other.
Or the way Dolly and Earl throw winks at one another across the bar.
Or the moans I hear coming from Ghoul’s bedroom when he’s with another one of his girls because the walls are so damn thin, and my bedroom, unfortunately, shares one with his. Or hearing about Merrick’s latest girl and how she couldn’t get enough of his Anaconda. Yeah, his word, not mine.
But the worst thing?
Watching my Kings of Mayhem brothers with their kids crawling all over them and peppering them with love and adorable giggles. It makes the knot in my chest tighten to a point where I think I’m having a goddamn heart attack.
Like now, watching Dakota Joe swing his daughter in the air and hearing her squeal with happiness as he catches her. Then seeing his wife, Katy, come up behind him and wrap her arms around his thick waist as she plants a kiss on her husband’s shoulder. The look of contentment on their faces kills me.
Over by the jumping castle, Boomer chases his six-year-old daughter, Tabitha, around in circles while his two-year-old son, Isaac, screams with delight from his shoulders. Their laughter drifts across the lawn and only tortures me further.
Frustrated, I leave the table and make my way across the lawn toward the clubhouse but stop in my tracks when I see a figure standing at the gates, clutching the chain link as she peers through.
It’s the head of dark curls that grabs my attention. They blow in the warm summer wind like strands of silk.
It’s Lily.
DOC
My heart fucking stops in my chest.