“What the fuck are you two doing?”
Cash’s voice halted them. They snapped apart faster than if hot coals burned them.
Fee got to her feet, brushing leaves and twigs from her clothes and hair. “Hey, Cash.”
He transferred his glare from Stretch to her. “You plan on answering me?”
“If I thought you deserved an answer I would,” she replied. “Since you don’t, no. I’m not answering you.”
“I see why you wouldn’t come to the club, Stretch,” he said, before focusing on Fee again.
“Fuck off, asshole.” Stretch still didn’t move. He might have to sit under the tree another hour or so, although he wished he could stand, so Cash wouldn’t be looming over him. “If Fee was the reason I didn’t want to come, I would’ve told you.”
Cash ignored him. “We agreed if we didn’t see each other together, we wouldn’t see each other separately.”
“This isn’t some rendezvous. I ran into Stretch on my way to the club.”
Cash took in Fee’s appearance, stared at her mouth, her waist, and her legs. He made a step toward her, then backed up.
Though Stretch realized Cash had made the decree, Fee’s presence warranted it. He’d never forgive her if he lost Cash because of her.
“I have to go,” she said, looking at Cash, waiting for something he wouldn’t give to her.
He’d always refused to give even a little control to Stretch, too.
“Fee.” Cash grabbed her arm. “I’m going to call you soon. I just have a few things to take care of.”
“If I’m available, I’ll take your call.”
“Don’t be like that.” He dropped his voice to a coaxing whisper, stroking her arm. “It just shocked me to see you two together.”
Cash sounded jealous. If by chance he was, who was it toward?
“Stop, Cash.” Fee reclaimed her arm and moved away. “It doesn’t matter who I’m with, so stop with your games.”
Cash looked a little taken aback. “Didn’t we agree…?”
“We did,” she interrupted. “To whatever you said. But I’m not going to ignore Stretch if I run across him.”
“Well, give us a kiss goodbye, sweetness,” he said, recovering fast.
“Bye, Cash.” Fee started off, then halted. “Bye, Stretch,” she added, hurrying off.
“I came to check on you and I find you frolicking with Fee?”
“I’m not explaining a fucking thing to you. You saw what you wanted to see.”
“I saw you touching her and her touching you.”
“So?” Stretch challenged.
“So, nothing. Drop it.”
Cash wouldn’t admit fuck-all, so Stretch snapped his mouth shut.
“Your leg’s hurting?”
“Yes.” Stretch’s attention kept straying to Fee and how soft she’d felt against him when they’d been rolling around. “As usual.”
“I’m taking the van, so I’ll come around and pick you up.”
“Right, I’d hoped I was wrong about today being the day of your death. Your epitaph will read here lies a stupid motherfucker.”
“I know what I’m doing, so are you coming or what?”
“If you bring me some pain killers and my drink, yes, I’ll accompany you.”
Stretch would see this fucked-up mission through to the gruesome end. Maybe, Outlaw’s ass-beating would knock away some of Cash’s arrogance. Or a hail of bullets would put them both out of their misery and leave Fee to find a man who deserved her.
“What the fuck?”
Val’s shock drew Christopher’s attention in the same direction that his RC stared. Parked near Christopher’s pickup, Johnnie’s Navigator and Val’s Jeep Wrangler, was Mort’s Escalade. Christopher and Johnnie had had cages for several years, but Val and Mort got them with the birth of their kids to be able to transport them around.
Mort fit a strap at an angle around his neck and then unhooked Lou from his car seat.
Christopher guffawed with laughter. “No the fuck that motherfucker didn’t,” he muttered, as Mort strode toward them, his son strapped to his chest in a baby sling.
Johnnie flicked his cigarette away, shaking his head.
“Not a fucking word, John Boy,” Mort warned, reaching them.
Snickering, Johnnie raised his hands.
“Nobody around to keep him. I never thought I’d say this shit, but I miss Roxanne. Fuck, I forgot his diaper bag in my ride.”
“A diaper bag?” Johnnie echoed. “What the fuck, fuckhead? You can’t change your kid out in the open.”
“I can change the little motherfucker any goddamn place I want.” Mort dropped onto the bench next to Christopher and glared in the direction of the kids screaming, running, and playing. Very fucking proficiently, he freed his son and sat him on his lap. He dug in his cut and produced a pacifier, shoving it in Lou’s mouth. The kid rested on Mort’s stomach, all bundled up.