“I was restless and couldn’t sleep. I figured a long walk would tire me out.”
“A long walk.” He huffed out a not-amused laugh. “Who the fuck you think you’re talkin’ to? It’s a goddamn insult you think I’m that fuckin’ stupid.”
“I didn’t say you’re stupid.”
“You didn’t have to. You expect me to swallow the shit you just served.”
“I’m going to bed now.” She began to rise.
“Sit… the… fuck… down,” he growled.
With a sigh, she dropped her ass back into the seat and pressed a hand to her upset stomach. “I’m just your house mouse, Cage—”
“The fuck you are!” he bellowed.
Tessa winced at how loud he was getting. She didn’t need him waking up Jemma or anyone else in cluburbia.
“You’re part of the Fury family, you’re part of my fuckin’ family and… in case you fuckin’ forgot, you’re the president’s goddamn sister. So, don’t give me that shit about bein’ just a house mouse. Crys is just a house mouse. You and Saylor are not. There’s a big goddamn difference. You know it, so don’t play dumb.” He ground his hand-rolled against the bottom of his boot to put it out. When he set his boot back on the deck, he twisted in his seat. “Who you doin’?”
Fuck. “Nobody.”
“Bullshit. Whose neck you puttin’ on the line?”
“No one’s.”
“Bullshit. You’re playin’ with fuckin’ fire, Tess. And you know what happens when you play with fuckin’ fire. It better not be a prospect.”
“I’m not doing a prospect.”
“One of Syn’s bandmates?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m not doing anyone.”
“Then, who’s doin’ you?”
She leaned over, planted her elbow into her thigh and rubbed her fingers across her forehead, trying to chase away a headache that was coming on. “Cage…”
“Whoever it is needs to approach Trip. He don’t, it’ll be a huge mistake. One he’ll regret.”
She sat up and bugged her eyes out at him even though he probably couldn’t see it in the dark. “You should talk about mistakes.”
“And I fuckin’ paid the price for mine,” he just about roared. He shook his head and took a breath before continuing in a quieter but no less pissed-off tone. “You weren’t here yet, so you didn’t see the results. But lemme tell you, it wasn’t pretty. That what you want for whoever you’re bangin’? You want the fuckin’ snot beat outta him with that club hangin’ in The Barn? You want whoever’s tryin’ to get one over on Trip to have his blood permanently stainin’ The Punisher? ‘Cause that’s what’s gonna happen.”
“Rev—”
“Rev got goddamn lucky. And only ‘cause Reilly ain’t the goddamn president’s sister.”
Tessa sat back in the chair and closed her eyes. Most days she didn’t have a problem with the MC lifestyle. She wasn’t raised in it but in the last year and half or so, she quickly adapted for the most part. Some days were a little tougher than others since Trip could act more like an overbearing father than her older brother.
But it was things like this… These stupid fucking “rules”—like women and children being “property” of the men, whether real or imagined—that rubbed her the wrong way.
Some rules she understood, some she didn’t. Like when she, Saylor, Maddie, and occasionally Lee, went out somewhere other than Pete’s, a prospect had to accompany them like a damn babysitter.
Or when it came to the “no touch” list. She was twenty-fucking-two years old, for crissake. She wasn’t a child. She wasn’t even underaged.
She was old enough to legally drink, to vote, to, hell, even go to war. She should certainly be old enough to decide who she allowed in her vagina. And whoever that was, was nobody’s fucking business. Not her brother’s and certainly not Cage’s.
Even so, she understood Cage’s concern. This time it wasn’t for her, but for one of his brothers, even though he didn’t know which one. The brotherhood was tight. They looked out for one another. That was the good part of the MC life. Just like the sisterhood was close.
But it was difficult for her to meet men not involved with the Fury. She was tied down all day with Dyna when Jemma and Cage were working. And during a lot of weekends, too. Since Jemma was a hospice nurse, her hours were all over the place. Because of that, Tessa didn’t have a lot of time to go out and date. Or even find a quick booty call without someone being all up in her business.
The few times she’d met someone when she went out to Pete’s, once they found out she was tied to the MC, they wanted nothing to do with her.
They didn’t want “trouble.”
Her being the sister of the Blood Fury MC president tended to make most men’s asshole pucker. And not in a good way. So, after a couple of dates—if it even made it that far—they tended to ghost her.