Page 51 of Pirate

Pirate: Carlos didn’t press charges. I apologized to him but I owe you one too. Part of what I want to talk to you about tonight.

Pirate: Unfortunately just because Carlos forgave me didn’t mean Steel did. I wasn’t wearing my colors last night, but I’m still a patched member. Been up all night serving my penance.

Sophia: You okay to work? Need me to bring you anything?

Pirate: I’ll survive. & no, I should be good. I should be out by 4. Your place or mine?

Sophia: I’ll meet you at your place.

Pirate: K. Have a good day. Sorry you slept like crap last night too. Maybe you were channeling me.

Sophia almost told him but stopped herself. If she admitted she hadn’t slept because she hadn’t felt safe enough to sleep, hewould get pissed she hadn’t called him last night. In retrospect, Sophia did feel foolish for not calling him. Even if it had been nothing, she’d already been kidnapped once in her life and had experienced several terrifying hours in which she’d feared she’d been raped while unconscious.

She did not want to be kidnapped a second time. Her instincts had been telling her something last night and she’d stubbornly ignored them.

Sophia: I’ll tell you about it tonight.

Heading downstairs, Sophia got herself breakfast. As she ate, the hairs on the back of her neck started to rise again.

Nope, Sophia thought. She threw her half eaten bowl of cereal into the kitchen sink, not caring that milk splattered everywhere. Heading to the door, she paused.

Where were her boots?

Sophia spun in a circle. She remembered taking them off as soon as she got home the night before. She’d left them by the door.

Hadn’t she?

Turning again, Sophia finally spotted them. Over by the couch. The couch she was nowhere near last night because she had gone straight upstairs upon getting home. Her tall, black boots were neatly placed by the edge of the couch. Sophia hadn’t put a pair of shoesneatlyanywhere in her life.

Collecting a pair of sneakers that were haphazardly lying by the front door, Sophia threw them on, grabbed her keys, and left.

Either the Matrix was glitching that morning or someonehadbeen in her guesthouse last night.

Pirate tooka power nap during his lunch break, forgoing a meal, but it had only helped a little. He was still seething inside from having to spend the night before with Fletcher putting his damn bike back together. A lot ofYouTubeandGooglesearches later, and the two still had not accomplished much. Mostly because Fletcher was barely helping. At around three in the morning, he actually threw in the towel—quite literally throwing a grease rag down—and gave up. After calling a ride from someone that picked him up outside the gate, Fletcher had left.

Pirate stayed. Just because Fletcher had quit didn’t mean Pirate could. He would take his punishment without complaint, even though hereallywanted to punch Fletcher in the face. Multiple times.

“So you’re Sophia’s latest? Her pussy still as tight as I remember it?”

“She tell you I popped her cherry? We were sixteen and, damn, was that girlbeggingfor my cock!”

“Got her hooked too. Kept coming back begging for more. Little slut didn’t know her place though. I’m too much of a man to be kept by a single woman. More pussy, the better, I say.”

“Why are you so fucking quiet? What, you haven’t gotten between her legs yet? Surprised the slut is able to keep them closed. Guess you don’t have anything impressive enough for her to spread them for you. Never thought I’d see the day when Sophia Groveton managed to keep her legs crossed.”

The taunts and jabs went on and on. Fletcher said a lot of things about Pirate’s time with the Marines as well as his missing leg. As if reading Pirate’s dossier told him everything he needed to know about Pirate’s life and found him lacking.

“Can’t believe she’s dating a fucking high school security guard. Talk about failing to meet expectations.”

Pirate gritted his teeth and took it all in silence. The biggest reason was because he was already being punished for getting into one fist fight; he wasn’t going to get into a second one in the same night. No matter how much he fucking wanted to. Fletcher was baiting him and he knew it. He was not going to fall into the trap.

Additionally, all of Fletcher’s words were being recorded by the camera inside the club’s garage. No way Steel would let Fletcher into the club after watching the recording and hearing every vile word Fletcher spewed from his poisonous mouth. The one thing Steel would never stand for was the mistreatment of women and children—including hurtful words.

So Pirate kept his silence. After Fletcher had thrown in the towel, Pirate had finally been able to think through his rage and continued to work on putting the Tomahawk back together. Even if it was a shit-poor job that would ensure Grumpy never hired him at his auto repair business. Jumper was the mechanic in the family, not Pirate.

Going to work with no sleep had been hell. His leg throbbed all day long, causing Pirate to have to sit more than he ever had before while on a shift. By the time he climbed onto his hog upon leaving, he was limping.

There was no way around it. He was going to need to remove his prosthetic when he got home and use his forearm crutch. It had been more common for him to do so when it was just Jumper and Pirate living in the apartment. After Jasmine had moved in, and Sophia had started randomly coming over, Pirate had started only removing his leg when he was getting ready for bed and not before.

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