Pagan (The Henchmen MC 8)

We had sex, showered, had breakfast.

Everything was so, so normal.

Then he drove me to work, assuring me the whole time that Ethan would not, in any way shape or form, be a problem for me that day.

"The fuck is this shit?" he asked, jumping out of the car when I had gotten onto the sidewalk. Surprised, I jerked back, watching him close in on me.

"What?"

"You get out of the car and I don't get a proper fucking goodbye?"

Then, almost before he finished speaking, he showed me what a 'proper fucking goodbye' was. By the time his mouth left mine, I was already ready to go another round, and a little unsteady on my feet as I made my way into the salon.

"Girl, where you... what the fuck?"

So I guess I had forgotten about my face.

And now I had to have a talk with Benny.FIFTEENKennedy"Sorry, damn, shit, he's going to kill me," Benny said, wincing when I shocked back from his explosion a second before.

Kill him?

"Wait... what? Who is going to kill you?"

"Your man," he said, rolling his eyes like I was dense or something.

"My... man?"

Granted, I had started to see him as that and maybe he had called me his woman and such, but I wasn't sure if we were in a place where we could say that to other people, if maybe it was just our dirty little secret.

"Your sexy, scary biker man, yes. Your man."

"Why would he kill you?"

"Because he told me your face was fucked up and you likely weren't feeling so hot about it and I should keep my trap shut. But, well, you know me. Word vomit every-goddamn-where. I just didn't think it would look as bad as it does. Does it hurt?"

"Only if I smile too big or touch it really. I bruise like a peach."

"Yeah, well with that milk and honey complexion." He waved a hand toward one of the empty chairs, taking the other, and spinning it toward me. "Alright, let's hear it."

"He didn't tell you?" I asked, surprised.

"He told me Ethan got you alone and roughed you up and that your face is a mess. That was about it."

Normally, that would be a wildly inappropriate request given the delicate situation, but this was Benny. Benny was my best friend in the world. Nothing was inappropriate with him. He once asked me where I got waxed because he needed to find a new place. And when I told him I waxed myself to save money, he actually suggested I do him... and his boyfriend. And while I was perfectly willing to do their chests, their man business was, well, none of my business.

We shared intimate details about everything.

Maybe if things had gone further than they had, I would have felt less inclined to share, especially so soon. But as it was, I wasn't overly traumatized about the whole situation.

"Fucking asshole deserves his cock chemically burned off."

That was Benny for you- a bit of an over-reactor, though, to be honest, I didn't exactly disagree.

"Thank God for your man being all overprotective and getting us that system. I owe him a free chest wax or twenty."

"Jesus, what was that?" he asked, jerking back in his chair at the same time I did.

On the other side of the wall, hard enough to make our mirrors jump, was a slam against the it from next door.

My stomach dropped and my saliva tasted bitter even on my own tongue as I stared at that wall.

That mother fucker.

I should have known, hell, maybe I did know but had been too sex-sated the night before and that morning to really let it sink in.

Of course he was going to take his beating from Pagan out on me.

He had rented out the place next door.

And, knowing him, it was for like half what I offered him, just to screw me over, just to make a point.

"God, he really is the scum of the earth, isn't he?" Benny echoed my thoughts, aloud, as he was more inclined to do.

I let out a long, slow breath, trying to pretend that everything inside didn't feel like it was sinking. But that was exactly what it felt like, like when you're walking down the stairs in the dark and you think there is one more step, but your foot hits empty air and it was already too late to do anything but fall. That was how my stomach felt.

But it was okay.

Well, it wasn't okay.

But it would be okay.

I had a fair amount of money saved.

If I kept cutting corners, if I kept cutting coupons, if I stayed in the house I hated, if I kept bumming rides or taking cabs when I had to, if I kept my salary as low as humanaly possible.

Then maybe in a year, I could look for new real estate. I could just... work overnights on getting it renovated as soon as possible so I didn't have to pay two rents.