Page 1 of Pickle
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER 1
Pickle
“Thyrie… You didn’t. Not again.” The shocked voice from the booth behind me is far too deep and masculine for its pearl-clutching tone. That catches my attention.
Typically,I’m a mind-my-business sort. Especially since minding someone else’s business got me thrown into jail for a stint. Not that I wouldn’t do the same thing all over again to protect my sister when her douchebag boyfriend laid hands on her.
Lucky for me,the man I sent to look out for her while I served my time fell in love with her. For her sake, he made sure the douchebag disappeared. That meant there’d been no victim to testify about the beatdown I’d given him. Which indirectly saved me from a couple years of hard time.
All that to say,under normal circumstances, I’d tune out the conversation happening behind me. I’ve got to get materials ordered for the upcoming projects booked with Redemption Build, the construction company my brother-in-law owns and whose office I manage.
Before going to jail,working in an office wouldn’t have ever been on my radar. But taking care of the business end of things for Arlo frees up his time to take care of my sister and my niece, Teeny. Considering everything I owe the man, taking an administrative part of the business off his shoulders is the least I can, and have, done to thank him.
“Oh,please. The first thing he said in the morning, after asking which door led to the ‘pisser,’ was that I was a liar. He deserved everything that happened after that.” The woman’s voice is untroubled by her companion’s dramatic reaction, and more than anything, that keeps my interest piqued.
I’d clockedthe drop-dead beauty and the guy with her as a couple based on their casual ease with one another. Out of respect for the guy she’s here with, I’ve been studiously ignoring my attraction to her siren-sensual appearance. But the bickering between them makes it clear they’re not actually together. I find myself pressing against the vinyl of the booth at my back to better hear their conversation. If they’re not a couple, that changes things.
“He called you a liar? About what?”Even dripping with incredulity, the man’s voice is deep enough to sound like a growl.
“Get this,he said wearing makeup is basically lying about how I really look. Like it’s my fault he’s stupid enough to believe chicks have silver glitter eyelids?”
I choke backthe laugh caused bey her indignant answer, pretending to cough so they don’t realize I’m eavesdropping. Whoever the guy was, he’s an idiot. Makeup or not, the woman’s a stunner. If he’d been lucky enough to go home with her, he should have been worshipping at her feet, not critiquing. I don’t care who he is, there’s no man alive who can match her beauty.
“That still doesn’t explainwhy I got a call first thing this morning cancelling the contract.” There’s a heavy sigh before he continues. “And anyway, haven’t I begged you to stop fucking clients? It always ends in disaster.”
“Twice.Two times, Silas. That’s notalways. That’s not even usually. That’s rarely. Anomaly. Infrequently. Besides, the Johnstone job wasn’t gonna be worth it, anyway. He doesn’t need protection, he needs a social coordinator and a babysitter. I am neither.”
“Still,Thyrie, you broke his coccyx. Was that really necessary?”
“Not my faulthe landed on his ass when I pushed him out the door. He’s just lucky I was gracious enough to make sure Jimmy was already there to play driver when I kicked his ass out.” There isn’t a lick of regret in her words, and as an opinionated outsider to the situation, I’m thinking she’s justified.
I’m alsocuriouser and curiouser as their conversation goes on. Protection? Guarding? What kinda business are they in? The brief glimpse I caught of her walking by, she looked too slender and graceful to be a bodyguard. Then again, bulk doesn’t always equal might.
My phone vibrateson the table next to the laptop that’s gone to sleep from my inactivity. I’ve been so distracted by the soap opera behind me I’ve gotten no work done. I flip over the cell and glance at the screen, intending to clear the call. But when the FaceTime request lights up the screen with a silly pic of my favorite girl, even the spicy drama behind me gets shelved. I click the accept button and brace myself.
“Unca Pickle!”Teeny’s eardrum shattering screech blasts through my AirPod.
“Teeny-tot! What’s sweet, parakeet?”
“Unca Pickle, Daddy said a swear!”Her little whisper is still loud enough to raise the dead.
“Uh-oh, is Mommy mad at him?”My sister Frankie’s determined to raise her daughter in a better way than we came up. I know Arlo, who is her daddy even if DNA would say otherwise, feels the same. Letting Teeny hear curse words is really unusual. Arlo might be an officer in the mother chapter of Ghost Born MC, and our club might not always be completely lawful, but the similarity to our childhood begins and ends there.
“Yeah,but she said one, too! You gotta come give them both time outs.” Inescapable logic from a three-year old.
“Um, where is Mommy, Teeny?”It’s unusual to see my niece without my sister hovering over her shoulder, but I know both Arlo and Frankie have been teaching her how to use the phone on her own.
“They is in their room.Daddy is puttin’ stuff in a bag, and Mommy’s calling him a dummy.”
Now,I’m really concerned. My sister’s the sweetest soul I’ve ever known, and Arlo treats her as if she’s a deity to be worshipped. Whatever’s going on can’t be good.
“Canyou put the phone on speaker, Teeny? Do you know how to do that?”
Her little facenods in the camera, and I see her pop the headphone out of her ear. Almost immediately I hear my sister’s agitated response to something her husband must have said.
“We’re not goingto stay with Hyram, Arlo. You’re being ridiculous. It’s perfectly safe here!” And that’s my cue to pack up the shit on the table and get my ass moving.
