Page 7 of Watcher

I grasp two bars and rest my head against the cold metal. Jessica doesn’t look up. She plops down on a cot and stares at the ceiling. With a black eye and a bloody nose, she looks kind of cuter. Definitely my kind of woman.

“I probably saved your ass from brain damage at the rink.”

Jessica scoffs and rolls her eyes. “I didn’t ask for your help, just like I didn’t ask for this fucking conversation.”

“What’s up your ass?”

“Watcher, leave her alone,” Kentucky says. He’s on a cot staring at the ceiling as well.

“I’m just wondering why she’s being a little brat after we saved her life.”

“Jessica, you’re up.” A deputy unlocks her cell door, and she leaves without so much as a glance or a thank you, still wearing the tight-ass derby shorts that gave every one of the girls a delicious cameltoe. “Thought the Memphis chapter was coming to get us?”

“They are, but I’m sure they’re getting the run-around. We don’t have the money your little girlfriend’s daddy has.”

I liked the sound of her being my girlfriend, although I would rather her call me Daddy. She will, eventually. She just doesn’t know it yet.

“So that was her momma or stepmom at the gas station?”

Kentucky sits up and plants his feet on the ground. “Stepmom. I read her father’s biography a few years back. The man had his dick in almost as much pussy as you.”

“Doubt that.” I move to the cell door when another deputy enters. He unlocks the door and opens it. Doesn’t say a fucking word. “We need to get your nose looked at.”

Kentucky waves me off, but his nose starts bleeding again as soon as he stands. “Maybe you’re right.”

“You know one of those bitches hit you.”

Kentucky follows me from the cell. “She was pitching a hissy fit with a tail on it. I’ve never hit a woman and ain’t about to start now, but I’d sure bend her over my knee and give her a good whoopin.’”

Dent and a couple of Prospects are waiting in the parking lot when we leave the county jail. “Roller Derby? Really?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time.” I look around for Jessica. “You see a sweet little piece come out while you were waiting?”

“What did she look like?” Dent climbs on his bike. A prospect gets out of a nearby van.

“She had on shorts that were so tight you could see her religion,” Kentucky says.

“Her old man picked her up in a limo.” Dent points at Kentucky and his fucked up face. “Prospects will take you to the ER and then to get your bikes. We’ll handle the guns tonight. I spoke with Beast and told him you two would spend the night in town. Told me to just keep ya. I said no fucking way.”

We climb into the van with the Prospect and head to the ER. Kentucky holds his head back, but the blood keeps on coming.

“Can’t fucking believe she wouldn’t give me the time of day,” I say.

“Who?” The Prospect looks at me, and I point him to keep his eyes on the road. “Jessica Stallone?”

“You know her?” I scoot up between the Prospect and Kentucky.

“My ex is one of the blockers on the Memphis Macabre. Kat’s her name.”

“Well, now.”

“Don’t, Watcher.” Kentucky turns, the skin around his eyes now a deep dark blue. He nods at me. “The porch light’s on, but no one’s home.”

“Ain’t nobody touching that piece,” the Prospect says. “Some people think she killed the last man who put a move on her. Son of a bitch has just up and disappeared. Bitch is bad news.”

“You still talk to your ex?”

The Prospect nods. “We got a kid together. Got to.”

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