He could tell her fucking Loki was a one time thing, but the guys in the club wouldn’t believe that. Everyone knew Loki had been staying with Red Jack for weeks now. How long was it exactly anyway? How long did Loki have left? And even if Red Jack managed to sway the guys, tell them he was on speed and just needed a hole to fuck, they’d push for him to kick Loki out. Otherwise them living together would look suspicious. And he couldn’t leave Loki now, that’s why he needed to make use of all the resources he had.
Red Jack leaned against the bars, close enough to touch Paxton through them. “How nice do you want me to be?” he asked in a rasp that always had girls’ panties drenched.
“You don’t do anything for me. And for the record, I don’t like my cocks freckled,” she said casually. “Don’t bother with that. All I want from you is a confession.”
“I confess… to being a sexy stud.” Red Jack shrugged.
“And I like to fuck gay asses, because I’m gay,” mocked Paxton.
Before he could think straight, Red Jack spat at her and reached through the bars, trying to grab her jacket without success. “I’m not a fucking fag!”
“If you don’t want your friends at the Coffin Nails to think so, you will answer all my questions. Both about the guys you work with here and the other chapters,” said Paxton, frowning at Red Jack’s hand, which was uselessly grabbing at air in front of her.
“Fuck you!” His heart was beating so fast it felt like he was about to have a stroke. She had to be bluffing. She had to.
Paxton sighed. “I know this is a lot to take in, so I’ll give you twenty-four hours to have a think about it.”
“You’re a fucking cunt!” Red Jack hit the bars with his arms, desperate not to fall apart in front of her. All his nightmares were coming to life. Meanwhile, she was looking straight at him, her dark eyes calm as always, as if he were a gorilla having a fit in its cage. Dangerous, but manageable when you had a gun on you.
“Okay, let’s make it forty-eight hours. It’s not like you’re gonna turn straight any time soon, right?” She patted the wall with a half smile.
That fucking stung. Red Jack turned his back on her and crossed his arms, trying to cool off. How did he get into this position? For ages, he’d managed the occasional flings with hungry gay mouths. No questions asked, no problems. Loki was supposed to be a temporary thing, and now all Red Jack could think of was how to make what they had last longer.
“I’ll call you in two days. You’re not that bad of a guy, Jack. If you talk, it’ll help the children,” she said, and he wasn’t even sure if she was serious or still mocking him.
If it wasn’t so hard to make a cop just disappear, he’d make her vanish. Not even in a cruel way, just a bullet to the head to have this over with, but that would solve nothing. He had no idea whether the video wouldn’t end up somewhere in the archives, and then there were the cops who had caught him and Loki red-handed. He’d either rat on the club or end up shunned. The club was his life. It was bad enough that his whole family had turned their back on him since his first stay in juvie.
“Think of the children, Jack,” Paxton said on her way out and laughed. The moment she locked the door, he bit his lips hard, but the stinging in his eyes would not subside. He was so deeply fucked it hurt to breathe. The thoughts of Loki vanishing from his life attacked Red Jack with a vengeance, and he put his forehead against the wall. Everyone thought he was just a goof, an asshole, or both. But he had feelings too. Ambitions, needs, desires. He’d lost Keith, Lucy thought he was a douchebag, Sam shacked up with Candy and wasn’t as available anymore, and Red Jack was left surrounded by expensive stuff and filling the void with pussy. Until Loki.
For whatever reason, Loki wanted him and pursued Red Jack like he was the meatiest, juiciest burger, straight off the grill. He’d even gone as far as to brand himself with Red Jack’s name. That was it. There was no holding back after that. It was as if Loki had managed to saw into Jack’s rib cage and squeeze his heart so hard that it started beating for him. He could have theoretically made Loki move away, maybe meet up somewhere in another town, but Loki didn’t have the time to waste, and Red Jack would never want him to be sidelined in his last days. Loki needed care. He kept bleeding in random moments, had those headaches, blackouts, and the problems were progressing. Maybe he’d die within a week, alone and thinking that Red Jack had left him to save his own ass.
Red Jack rubbed his eyes. He would never allow that. And ratting on the club was out of the question as well. In forty-eight hours he’d face the music. Whatever was to happen, he’d take it on the chin. Ratting on the club would not only be a death sentence, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself after betraying the brothers who’d accepted him with open arms.