Badd Motherf*cker(59)

I pulled back, whispered against Dru’s lips, “Xavier. Gotta say hi, and then I’m taking you upstairs.”

“Make it fast,” she whispered back.

I let her go, reluctantly, and pivoted just in time to see Xavier tugging off his full-coverage motorcycle helmet. The college boy had gone full hipster, apparently.

Of all of us, Xavier looked the most like Mom. His hair was closer to black than brown, curly and unruly. He was also the only one of us to get Mom’s green eyes. He was a punk barely old enough to shave, but he sure as fuck had the Badd looks and swagger. Tight black jeans above half-laced combat boots, tight white T-shirt underneath a ’50s style greaser leather jacket. The sides of his head were buzzed to the scalp with the top of his hair left long and messy in a wild curly mop. Triple-pierced ears, a series of geometric shapes tatted in interlocking patterns on his forearms…the boy was taking after me, it seemed.

That bike, though, that was new. Last I’d seen him he’d been driving some hoopty piece of shit beater-mobile, a ’93 Topaz or some shit. Guess he’d saved for an upgrade, and I approved. It was a Triumph Adventurer, used, probably eight or ten years old but well maintained. A beauty, and I was a tad jealous. Not that I had time or money for a bike, but I’d been pining for one ever since I’d had to sell mine to pay off some debts I’d incurred while…intoxicated and impetuous, let’s just say.

He grinned as I stomped toward him, grabbed him in a bear hug so fierce I nearly pulled him off his bike.

“Hey, you big fuckin’ freak, let me go!” Xavier shoved at me in an attempt to fend me off, but I was ten years his senior and at least fifty pounds heavier, so he stood zero chance. Eventually he relented and gave in to the hug. “Fine, you goddamn ogre. All right, all right, you’ve gotten your hug, now let me go before I drop the bike. It’s brand new.”

It was fun to fuck with Xavier. He was a little standoffish, a bit stiff, and not really into physical touch. Meaning, he hated hugs, hated being touched by anyone. Just a quirk, I guess. Something to do with his freak of nature intelligence, I assumed. Perfect SAT score, 4.3 GPA, valedictorian of his high school class, college credits under his belt before he hit senior year, self-taught physics wizard, speed reader, voracious book nerd, master sketch artist, and in his spare time he also had this weird obsession with creating these odd little robots that did nothing useful, just sort of wobbled and gyrated and hopped around. He used watch gears and batteries and odds and ends and did some sort of genius magic and made them prance around like cute, freaky little living creatures. And, oh yeah, he was an insanely talented soccer player.

Go figure.

That kid got the brains Bax and Zane and I missed out on. Not that we were stupid, but Brock and Xavier were on a whole different level of smart, and Xavier then took that level and left it in the dust.

And damn the kid, but he was good looking as hell and had more fuckin’ swagger than he knew what to do with. Just…don’t touch him.

I let him go, finally, and watched him roll his shoulders and shrug and wiggle, as if trying to rid himself of the creepy-crawlies. “All right, you little punk. I got something I gotta do. I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

Xavier’s eyes went to Dru, then to me. He’d always been observant, and being the youngest had been around me longer than the others, so he’d seen me with an embarrassingly ridiculous number of different women over the years, none of whom I’d ever brought upstairs, never brought around the brothers, let alone Dad. I never saw them more than once, and never did anything to give them the impression it’d be anything other than a quick casual fuck. It meant no affection, no lovey-dovey bullshit.

Xavier, who’d had a habit of doing his homework sitting by the service bar, had seen me close up and go away with those girls, seen me take breaks to fuck them in the alley or the bathroom or wherever was close and convenient. He’d been a night owl, like me, and I’d just gone with it since he was always up in time for school without needing a wake-up call, so he’d seen things even my other brothers hadn’t.

All of which meant he didn’t miss the significance of the situation when I turned back to Dru, scooped her up with her legs hooked around my waist and her arms around my neck and kissed her as I walked with her toward the stairs.

“The hell happened to Big Bast?” I heard him ask as I was on the stairs.

Bax chuckled. “He got caught, little brother.”

“Looks…uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve still got your V-card.” I heard Bax say. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”