Protective (Diamondback MC Second Generation 4)

CRUSH

“That bitch is goingto be a problem,” dad mutters a few minutes into our drive home from my probation appointment. I figured that the second the woman licked her lips at the no-contact rule when it came to Winslow.

“Yep, I figure movin’ into the clubhouse really will be a no-go now.” Dorothy Vungle is definitely going to be a pain in my ass. The piss test was normal. The finger printing, normal a-fucking-gain. Her outlining every single thing having to do with what I can and can’t do, no big deal. The bitch sneering at the fact that I’ve already got a job lined up, housing, and the fact that I’m not prohibited from alcohol, that’s when she showed her cards.

“Probably a good idea. Not that your mom would let you leave right now anyway.” The only reason I’m not driving right now is because my license is expired. Fuck, that’s my next step tomorrow. No way am I not getting on my bike, and soon.

“Yeah,” I reply, not telling him about the encounter with Gigi last night. He’d be pissed as fuck at me, annoyed with the fact that she didn’t eat her dinner, and pinning the blame on his son. I’d expect it. Hell, I am the reason for the way she scurried away like a mouse in the night that was spooked by the lights being flicked on. Dad tried to sit outside with me after coming home at three o’clock in the morning. The goofy smile on Ma’s face told me she was shit-faced drunk. Seemed like Dad was on the side of tipsy. It’s why when he cocked his head to the side, questioning why I was outside, I just shook him off and went back to smokin’ my cigarette. One of those things Ma didn’t understand how I could go five years without taking a hit of nicotine only to come out and that’s the first thing I go after. To say she was unimpressed was to say the least. Though, Dad just shut her down, lighting one up himself. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree when it came to me looking just like him but also getting a lot of his personality traits.

“You didn’t sleep much last night.” I figured this would have happened on our way to my appointment, not after. Should have known better.

“Too quiet in the house. Didn’t want to keep everyone up with my pacing.” Thankfully, I’m saved by Dad’s phone ringing. I really don’t want to go into detail about how shit was eating me up inside, not just from my stint in prison but the girl who became a woman and has my fuckin’ blood boiling in all the wrong ways possible.

“Yeah, butterfly.” Ma is on the other end of the line. He’s called her that for as long as I can remember. “Sure. She didn’t have to call a tow truck driver, though.” My eyes move out to the road, checking the mirror, making sure nothing is out of sorts. You can call me paranoid, some definitely would, but I call it being vigilant. Shit has been going too smoothly in the past twenty-four hours, and I know something is gonna go to hell in a hand basket.

“Tell Gigi to sit tight. We’ll be there in about ten minutes or so.” My eyes go to him. A grin is on plastered to his face, and there is no fuckin’ way I want to know what those two lovesick fools are talking about. “Later, butterfly.” Finally, the phone call ends.

“Gigi’s needs a lift. Damn girl already called a tow, not wanting any handouts whatsoever even though she knows damn well we have one at the club.” He sounds annoyed. Me, I’m just along for the ride.

“Figured someone needed somethin’. What’s wrong? Flat tire?” I prod, like the fuckin’ idiot I am.

“With our group being this big and only gettin’ bigger, there’s never not a brother, Ol’ Lady, kid, or anyone really who’s not in need. Don’t forget that this is family. Know you’ve been gone for a while, know that you’re strugglin’ and unwillin’ to talk to me or anyone. But don’t forget where you came from, and to answer your question, it’s not a flat fuckin’ tire. Seems you’ve got a lot to learn about Gigi before makin’ assumptions, so don’t go makin’ an ass out of you or me with them.” I’m thinkin’ I’ve just stuck my foot in my mouth, and the only way to recover from that is to shut up. Most of what he’s saying is true, though. I’ve got no idea about Gigi. I just know the girl with doe eyes that change from a brown ember-like color during the day to a more translucent brown-gold color at night who is fuckin’ with every sense of my being. My head is a mess, my body is always on alert when she’s around, and my cock, well, that dumb fucker won’t go down. It’s like it’s on high alert when it comes to everything Georgiana.