Sicko
“You two!” Dad calls from the dining room. “What’s taking so long?”
Tense bastard.
I push off the wall, knowing full well no one can see us. Fucking hate my rich-ass parents and their rich-ass house.
“You might be right, Royce.” She squares her shoulders and looks me deep in the eye. “But I’m not the same girl you left behind either.”
“Oh yeah?” I smirk, running my tongue over my bottom lip. “How so?”
“I have teeth now.” She shoves past me.
Before I can grab her little ass and back it up against the wall, my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I don’t bother to tell the old man that I’ll be in in a second, because he knows I’ll be in in a second.
“What?”
“Ah,” Fluff mutters. “Did I catch you at a bad time?” There’s shuffling in the background. “Sorry, Sicko, it’s just Lion told me that I can call you about—” Fluff, our new prospect, stammers on the other end of the phone.
I attempt to count to fucking ten, because my old therapist once said it’ll help. The same therapist I used to bend over her desk every month until she was dripping over my cock and calling me daddy, so… maybe she was wrong. Letting me anywhere near your pussy is not something a smart woman would allow. I’d break your heart right after I break your ovaries.
“What is it?” I snap. “You know I’m away, so this better be a fucking emergency.”
“Oh, it is. Sorry.”
“Stop saying fucking sorry.”
“Oh, right, ah, so, Roo has been shot and we’re wondering what we should do.”
My jaw tenses. “Is it a fatal wound?”
There’s more shuffling and then Lion’s old ass voice comes through. Lion is our club president. How he got that name is a long fucking story. Mine is Sicko, and that’s also… a long fucking story.
“Can always count on my VP to put the fear of God into the prospects.” Lion chuckles down the phone.
“Maybe we need to reevaluate who we are letting drag their feet through our clubhouse then.”
“I think Fluff is a good one. You’ve just got to be nice.”
“I’m never nice. You know this.”
He chuckles again, and I can just imagine the cigar hanging from between his frail lips.
“Is it fatal?” I ask again, sighing.
“It’s not. Just wanted to scare Fluff. You make him nervous. I think he actually shits himself every time he has to talk to you. How are the parents?”
“Same, same. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, alright,” Lion grunts. “Anything I need to know?” The question doesn’t throw me off. Lion always asks it. The fucking hypersensitive prick.
“If you did, you’d know.” I hang up my phone and make my way back into the kitchen, pulling out the chair opposite Jade and sinking into the plush leather. My eyes never leave hers.
She picks up her glass of water and empties it in one go, all while trying her hardest to not have to look at me.
“Son, how have you been?” my father asks beside me, cutting into his steak. We lose ourselves in conversation about normal ass shit that I used to be into. I feel bad, I fucking do. I felt bad the day I walked away from all of them with the intention of never returning. That boy with an attitude problem turned into a man with issues. Real fucking issues. But until recently, I’ve found myself having to drag my ass back to this house for the very reason I fucking left.
Her.
“Royce,” my mom mutters, patting her mouth with her linen napkin and placing it daintily onto the table. “Please tell me you haven’t joined a motorcycle club.”
Dad silences beside me.
My eyes find Jade, who isn’t watching me smugly, she’s more bored. Blank and expressionless. She’s a mere fucking shadow to the girl I once knew. She doesn’t want to be here anymore than I do. When we were kids, she had a glow about her, even when we would fight. There was fire that lit up her aura. Now that fire seems to have burned.
“I have. Been there for four years now, Ma.”
“Where is there, and why, Royce?”
I toss my napkin onto my plate. Guess we’re doing this now. “LA. Not too far from you.” My eyes cut to Jade’s. “But far enough.”
“Aren’t you going to say something, Jade?” My mother vocally gasps at Jade. “You two were always so close…”
Jade chokes on her water. It was no secret how close Jade and I were. Everyone called Jade my pet. She was always hanging off my arm, wanting to do everything with me, Orson, and Storm, and she was the only one who was allowed. Pissed a lot of bitches off, the fact that they couldn’t ride with us, but my little foster sister could, but they dealt with it. Jade would make my birthday cake every year too, her and Mom in the kitchen getting messy while Dad was always away doing business shit.