for her in that system. What terrifies me is her being separated from me.
Now that's honest as a two by four between the eyes.
Kiki jerks her eyes up from what she's fixing in the kitchen and arches an eyebrow. “Yeah, sounds lame. That girl can take care of herself.”
I scrub my coarse mat of hair. Twice. “Yeah, true that. But here's the thing: she's all offense right now. She's hell on defense, but everyone wears out on that one. We need strategy.”
Kiki makes a sound. “Well, exotic dancing is out.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
I hit on something. It's crazy but just might work.
“What?” Kiki asks, watching my expression as she sets a plate of sandwiches on the table.
They awaken the beast. My stomach gives an appreciative growl, and I grab one.
She smiles.
Bad shit happens, but hunger needs to be handled. Simplicity.
I take a huge bite and swig of water. I work the food to the side of my mouth. “Mick wants me to shore up those east coast clubs.”
Kiki nods. “Yeah, I know.”
“My mom just died.”
“Yeah,” Kiki answers quietly, her face questioning where this is leading.
“I'm thinkin' it'll take me some time to get past my inability to protect my mom....”
“No Thorn,” Kiki says, denying my words.
I hold up the hand with the sandwich. “It might not be technically my fault, but I can't help how I feel. Responsible.” The cheese and meet flop back and forth in my hand. I take another bite, leveling it between the chompers and a pull of water. I set the water bottle on the table.
“Pffft.” Kiki doesn’t believe my role of protector for my druggie mom. She takes a small bite of her sandwich. Probably trying to soak up the booze. Kiki never eats enough. Typical of a dancer.
“Then there was wanting to find Rex,” I say, crossing my arms.
Kiki nods.
“I don't know if it's right to blow off whatever fucked up grief I need to figure out or put finding bio-daddy on hold, because my pecker's in a twist about Juliette.”
“I think it's more than your pecker, dude.”
That's what I'm afraid of.
Thorn's not afraid of jack.
Except now— I am .
Kiki gives a small shrug and takes another bite. “Maybe it's the perfect thing, Thorn. You go jerk a club into shape and take our girl with you. She distracts you.” Kiki looks at me and inhales deeply. “Heals you.”
I whirl around, my back to the sea of glass and water. “I don't need healing, Kik. I'm not some simp trying to work through my mind shit.”
Lie.
Juliette stands there in a towel. Neither one of us heard her approach.
My gaze rolls down her body like she’s my favorite candy, and my dick pops a boner.
God.
I track the water droplets that slide from her neck to that tender spot between her breasts. Her eyes are emeralds in the sweet coffee and cream of her face.
Hair like kinky ink springs back from wet to dry as I watch.
“Huh. Don't need anybody or anything, Thorn?” Kiki asks in a droll voice.
I resist flipping Kik the bird.
I move toward Juliette, and she meets me.
“Don't take me,” she says. “Just let me go, and you do what you need to do. I can survive. I can avoid Shep.”
My decision’s made before I know it.
“No.”
She cups my face, and her other hand holds the towel around her tits.
My eyes burn. I've never felt like I do now. God help me, I can't let her go. Won't.
It was so much easier when I was numb to life.
This is my chance. Happy has come calling and contentment is MIA.
Somehow, the status quo isn't enough anymore.
*
I sort through Juliette's “escape duffel,” and my sense of things going sideways deepens.
She's got five different passports, contacts to turn her green eyes brown, wigs, and money from five different countries.
A shitload of currency.
But there are no drugs.
“Damn, baby, you've got enough money...”
“Three months,” she says, taking a small gun apart and oiling every piece.
I watch her cram a cleaning rod down the barrel of the tiny 380
Now that's honest as a two by four between the eyes.
Kiki jerks her eyes up from what she's fixing in the kitchen and arches an eyebrow. “Yeah, sounds lame. That girl can take care of herself.”
I scrub my coarse mat of hair. Twice. “Yeah, true that. But here's the thing: she's all offense right now. She's hell on defense, but everyone wears out on that one. We need strategy.”
Kiki makes a sound. “Well, exotic dancing is out.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
I hit on something. It's crazy but just might work.
“What?” Kiki asks, watching my expression as she sets a plate of sandwiches on the table.
They awaken the beast. My stomach gives an appreciative growl, and I grab one.
She smiles.
Bad shit happens, but hunger needs to be handled. Simplicity.
I take a huge bite and swig of water. I work the food to the side of my mouth. “Mick wants me to shore up those east coast clubs.”
Kiki nods. “Yeah, I know.”
“My mom just died.”
“Yeah,” Kiki answers quietly, her face questioning where this is leading.
“I'm thinkin' it'll take me some time to get past my inability to protect my mom....”
“No Thorn,” Kiki says, denying my words.
I hold up the hand with the sandwich. “It might not be technically my fault, but I can't help how I feel. Responsible.” The cheese and meet flop back and forth in my hand. I take another bite, leveling it between the chompers and a pull of water. I set the water bottle on the table.
“Pffft.” Kiki doesn’t believe my role of protector for my druggie mom. She takes a small bite of her sandwich. Probably trying to soak up the booze. Kiki never eats enough. Typical of a dancer.
“Then there was wanting to find Rex,” I say, crossing my arms.
Kiki nods.
“I don't know if it's right to blow off whatever fucked up grief I need to figure out or put finding bio-daddy on hold, because my pecker's in a twist about Juliette.”
“I think it's more than your pecker, dude.”
That's what I'm afraid of.
Thorn's not afraid of jack.
Except now— I am .
Kiki gives a small shrug and takes another bite. “Maybe it's the perfect thing, Thorn. You go jerk a club into shape and take our girl with you. She distracts you.” Kiki looks at me and inhales deeply. “Heals you.”
I whirl around, my back to the sea of glass and water. “I don't need healing, Kik. I'm not some simp trying to work through my mind shit.”
Lie.
Juliette stands there in a towel. Neither one of us heard her approach.
My gaze rolls down her body like she’s my favorite candy, and my dick pops a boner.
God.
I track the water droplets that slide from her neck to that tender spot between her breasts. Her eyes are emeralds in the sweet coffee and cream of her face.
Hair like kinky ink springs back from wet to dry as I watch.
“Huh. Don't need anybody or anything, Thorn?” Kiki asks in a droll voice.
I resist flipping Kik the bird.
I move toward Juliette, and she meets me.
“Don't take me,” she says. “Just let me go, and you do what you need to do. I can survive. I can avoid Shep.”
My decision’s made before I know it.
“No.”
She cups my face, and her other hand holds the towel around her tits.
My eyes burn. I've never felt like I do now. God help me, I can't let her go. Won't.
It was so much easier when I was numb to life.
This is my chance. Happy has come calling and contentment is MIA.
Somehow, the status quo isn't enough anymore.
*
I sort through Juliette's “escape duffel,” and my sense of things going sideways deepens.
She's got five different passports, contacts to turn her green eyes brown, wigs, and money from five different countries.
A shitload of currency.
But there are no drugs.
“Damn, baby, you've got enough money...”
“Three months,” she says, taking a small gun apart and oiling every piece.
I watch her cram a cleaning rod down the barrel of the tiny 380
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