“Bro. What’s up?”
“All good here,” I reassure him, then ask the question that’s been playing on my mind. “How’s Britney doing?”
I grit my teeth as I hear the admiring smile in his voice. “Yeah. She’s fine. She’s close if you want to talk to her.”
“Nah, Brother.” I shut that down fast. “I’m good. Just wanted to make sure she was alright.”And wasn’t causing any damage.
“Tiff’s not in—she’s got the flu or some shit. Cher and Britney seem tight. Think Cher likes the female company.”
“Zeke there?”
“Was.” I hold my breath.Please don’t say Britney insulted them.“Your woman’s great, Petty. Zeke seemed to get on well with her.”
There’s a pause as if he’s moved a distance away, maybe outside the clubhouse as the noise level drops from his end. “Don’t know why the fuck you kept her secret. She’s one to keep hold of, Bro. Respectful as shit, doing her best to fit in. Shy though.” He snorts. “The brothers are tiptoeing around her. They’re trying not to make her run for the hills.”
Brit shy?That’s a part of my wife that I’ve never seen.
I mumble something to Roller to end the call, then rest my head back against the wall, the sound of RoseLyn’s performance reaching my ears.What game is Britney playing?I’m certain she’s up to something, I just don’t know what. She’s trying to inveigle her way into my life, a life where I don’t want her.
Not that I’ll have any choice if she’s pregnant.
Though I’m itching for a fight, the night passes without incident. No flowers delivered, no suspicious notes left and no sign of Saul. Cobra arrives just before the end of her set, and we again escort her back to the hotel while checking we’ve got no tail. I hand her over into Sarge’s gentle care, feeling like we’re in the eye of the storm and that there’s something coming.
Her ex wouldn’t be content with chasing her out of her house. He’s getting closer, I can feel it.
On my own time now, I go straight back to the dreaded apartment. Owl has already confirmed he’d delivered Brit safely home. On tenterhooks I enter the door, but the lights are off, and hopefully she’s already asleep. I grimace as I see that uncomfortable couch again, but know it’s better than the alternative, sleeping with Britney and sharing the same bed. Still dressed, I settle down for another night where I’ll rest with one eye open.
But I can’t sleep. My mind’s whirring. I’m in a mess that I see no way of getting out of. I can’t even go to my brothers for understanding as they all seem to like Brit. She’s portraying the perfect persona of an old lady, and only I know it’s an act. The only way I could extract myself from this situation is to tell the truth, and that would mean me losing my patch. My brothers wouldn’t want me riding beside them if they knew who I really was.
I’m not sure if I get any sleep at all. Morning comes eventually and my eyes are open when Britney emerges from the bedroom. My breath catches when I see her in her negligee, and bile rises in my throat as I get an instant recall of her hovering over my dick.
I try to rationalise it, tell myself it can’t be that bad. I’ve had hookups in the past that I’ve definitely reconsidered the next morning, normally after having downed too many beers and the woman I saw in my drunken haze bore no resemblance to the one I’d seen in sober hindsight. Those encounters, I’d managed to laugh off. But my brain can’t seem to get past the thought that Britney had taken something that I hadn’t wanted to give.
Worse, I can’t look at her without wondering about the implications of her actions, and am too scared to ask if there’s any likelihood of her being pregnant. I’m not ready to hear the answer.
She fucking approaches me with her lips puckered for a kiss.
Turning my head away, I snarl out, “There’s nothing like that between us.”
She snort chuckles. “You didn’t complain the other morning.”
I’d said no quite clearly, but she carried on. “I don’t want that, this, with you, Britney.”
She regards me for a moment. “Oh come on, Clark. I know you, remember. You can’t go too long without sex.” Her brow furrows, “Unless you’re getting it from the bitch—”
“I’ve told you before, I’m not getting anything from RoseLyn or anyone else.”
A grin appears. “Then if you intend to be faithful, and Clark, dearest, I wouldn’t recommend you be anything else, you’ll have to get what you want from me.” She attempts a seductive smile, her fingers drawing attention to her lips. “You already know I can satisfy you.”
In the past, sex between us was one thing that was not a mistake. But now the idea leaves me flaccid.
Rather than telling her the thought of sex with her turns me the fuck off, I blurt out, “Could you be pregnant?”
Oh, the look on her face is so smug, I know I’ve played into her hands and she’s got me exactly where she wants me. She puts her finger to her lips for a second, then grins. “Well, I don’t know, Clark. You tell me. Your cock was in my pussy, and… do I really have to tell you how babies are made?”
I stand, brush my hands through my hair and spit out angrily, “I know the fuckin’ mechanics, Brit. Are you on anything?”
“My, my, temper, temper. And what do you think? I’ve only just got out of prison and there was no likelihood of getting pregnant there.”
