Controlled Burn (Blackbridge Security 8)

“No,” I say, my mind already back to The Kitten’s Cream. “I need you to watch her kids tonight.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” Wren hisses as if I asked him to eat a shit pie. “I don’t do kids.”

“You also didn’t do cats. Now Simon lives in your condo.”

“That pussy comes with more pussy, and that more pussy is the greatest in the world. Feel me?”

“No,” I snap. “I don’t feel you. I need to go to The Kitten’s Cream tonight, and I can’t do that and watch the kids.”

“She’ll see you if you go.”

“That’s the whole damn point,” I say as I stand. “I’ll bring them over about ten.”

I don’t give him time to turn me down before walking out of his office.

My cock thumps in my jeans at just the mere thought of seeing Kendall on stage.

Now all I have to do is build enough control between now and then not to rip her off the stage and claim her.

Chapter 17

Kendall

A nap flew out the window after running into Brant at the grocery store. I couldn’t sleep now if I had a silent room and no responsibilities.

I spent the rest of the afternoon with the kids, playing card games, and trying to keep them occupied so they didn’t ask more questions about the stranger in the store.

I started getting nervous about Finnegan watching the kids because he didn’t show back up until I was feeding them dinner. He stayed in his room until after I put them to bed, but he was right there when I opened the bathroom door to let the steam out so the mirror would clear enough for me to do my makeup.

“How were the tips last night?” he asks, leaning his broad shoulder against the doorjamb.

“Decent,” I tell him. “I usually make more on Saturday nights.”

“Hmm,” he says, his eyes on my reflection.

It’s a weird response, but I don’t have the time or patience to read much more into it.

“Please don’t let them stay up all night again. I’m dead on my feet right now.”

“I won’t let them,” he quickly agrees.

I debate telling him about Brant and the shit about Ty, but he doesn’t need to know. Hell, voicing the trouble I could be in may give him reason to put us out on our asses. I looked up Blackbridge Security before showing up with baking soda from the fridge strapped to my stomach. They don’t seem the type to be okay with the criminal underbelly of St. Louis, and I know I’m guilty by association even though I only ever saw Brant or Adrian when they were looking for Ty. My ex wasn’t even a member of the club, but more of what they call a hangaround—a guy who wanted to be a member but really didn’t have whatever qualifications were required to join. I have no idea what the standards are for the Keres MC, but if they needed idiots with gambling and drug problems, then Ty should’ve been a shoo-in.

“You seem lost in thought,” he says, his accent thick this evening.

“Just tired,” I say, the lying coming a little too easy.

It should. I lie all the time. Not big lies, but if someone at work asks how I’m doing, good is my go-to answer. When the cashier asks if I found everything okay, I tell her I did because the people that work there don’t want to hear how tired I am. They have their own damn worries. The lady ringing up my groceries doesn’t care that I spent ten minutes looking for my regular deodorant only having to settle on something else because they can’t seem to keep the shelves stocked.

People chat as a form of courtesy. They don’t really care.

Finnegan noticing me being lost in thought is just a courtesy. He doesn’t give a shit that I ran into a dangerous man today or that Kayleigh spent several minutes chatting with him before I could get to her.

I don’t think the Keres MC abducts children, but I wouldn’t put it past one of them to snatch my kids, thinking they could make Ty crawl out from whatever rock he’s hiding under to get them back.

I meet Finnegan’s eyes in the mirror. He immediately looks away.

“Still okay with watching the kids tonight?”

I wait for his answer, wondering just what in the hell I’ll do if he says no. I already agreed to expand my duties as Sasha called it, and that is stressing me out enough. If I call in sick after she agreed to let me pick up a few more shifts during the week, she may fire me.

“The kids will be fine,” he says.

“I know you want us out of here as quickly as possible, so I asked for a couple of extra shifts during the week. Is that okay?”

His face is blank when I turn to face him directly instead of us looking at each other in the mirror.