He reaches out, placing a hand on my cheek. “Remember that, Sis. Don’t throw shit his way. If you do, you’ll regret it.”
A cold chill prickles my skin. “He would never hurt me.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think he would, but I don’t know. When he considered you my sister, he would’ve never laid a hand on you. Now that you’re his woman, you’re his property. He’ll do whatever the fuck he wants.”
Oh my God, Jeremy sounds defeated. Like he knows there is nothing he can do to stop Bowie. I’m his and there’s nothing my brother can do to change it. Even though I fought for the right to be his woman, now I’m worried that I made the wrong decision.
Pussy on the Brain
Bowie
I slide off my bike and look towards the trailer before cutting my eyes to Tin-Man. He and I rode out for Shooter tonight. What should have been an easy job, turned into a fuckin’ mess. “Give me a few to get cleaned up and then we’ll hit the road.”
He looks down to my shirt and back up to my eyes. “It’s gonna take more than a few minutes to clean that shit up. He got you good, you may need to see the doc.”
“Fuck that.” I can feel the sticky blood coating the side of my chest, and my blood starts to boil. “The bastard got me with my own fuckin’ knife.”
Tin shakes his head. “Your mind wasn’t where is should have been. If it was, that shit would’ve never happened.”
He’s right. My head wasn’t in the game. If I had been concentrating on our little side trip for the Hellions, no way this shit would’ve happened. Since the day my Granddaddy gave me his old bowie knife, it hasn’t left my side. No one, and I mean no-fuckin’-one was better with a knife than me. Even in the desert, I took out more rag-heads with my blade than my rifle.
“If this shit happens when we’re dealing with the Sixes, you’ll be sporting more than a gash.” He adds, reminding me of what lays ahead for our club.
I’ve forgotten everything, including my duty to my brothers. The problem is that my brain is wrapped up in a piece of pussy instead of concentrating on what’s important. No matter how hard I tried to focus tonight, Shay’s face kept popping up. I knew her brother would take care of her, but I hated leaving her alone with the whack-job so fuckin’ close. I don’t know how the hell she did it, but she has me twisted in knots. I have to find a way to untangle myself before I get killed.
Placing my hand over the wound in my side, I nod. “That shit’s gonna change right now.”
“Don’t do it, brother.” He cautions. “This isn’t Shay’s fault; it was yours.”
“I know that.” I growl out, pissed that he’s getting into my shit. “I just have to remember what I am.”
“What are you?” He asks, studying my face.
“I’m an Outlaw.” I say firmly as I walk to the door of the trailer.
Before I can grab the knob, Lock swings the door open. He looks down at the blood still seeping from my side and says, “What the fuck happened to you?”
Not answering, I walk past him. Heading straight to the bathroom, my path is blocked by Shay. “Get out of my fuckin’ way.”
Her eyes search my face, before going down to the stain on my shirt. Instead of saying anything, she turns around and walks into the bathroom. By the time I make it there, she has the sink running and is rummaging through the medicine cabinet.
Cutting her eyes to me then quickly looking back to the medicine cabinet, she orders, “Take off your shirt and sit down.”
I do as she says, sitting on the edge of the tub. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”
She grabs a washcloth from the shelf beside the sink and puts it under the water. Leaving it there just long enough to get it wet, she turns off the water and wrings out the cloth. Then, she turns to me with anger flashing in her eyes. “I don’t care what you need.”
Not waiting for permission, she bends down and starts to clean the dried blood from my side. Going from my side then to the sink and back again, she finally washes away most of the blood. Her small fingers work the wound, rubbing some gel over it and finally placing a bandage over the long gash.
“How did this happen?” She asks as she leans back to toss the blood covered wrap into the clothes hamper.
“That’s none of your fuckin’ business,” There’s no way that I’m gonna tell her that I got careless and let a member of the Desert Ghosts get hold of my knife.
“Fine,” She says as she stands up.
She heads straight to the sink and starts to wash her hands. I can see the unshed tears in her eyes in the mirror above the sink. I’m not sure if it’s my injury or my words that caused them, but right now I don’t care.