Page 9 of Hendrix

But now, like always, without her, I just felt empty.

The woman sighed before standing to her full height and wriggling her skirt back down over her hips before turning her head to address me. “You wanna go for a drink somewhere? Maybe do it again later?”

I pulled my shorts up and aimed the condom at the trash can. Tossing the latex, I watched it land perfectly in the center of the metal can. “You know that’s not what this is.”

She shrugged, a small grin playing around her lips. “It could be.” She sashayed over to me, resting her fingers on my chest. “You know, all the girls in town say the same about you. You fuck like a god, you’re good to them while it lasts, but underneath, you’re closed off.” She cocked her head. “Whoever you’re pining after, she isn’t worth it.”

My eyes lowered and met hers. “And you are? Worth it, I mean.”

She shrugged. “I could be if you got to know me.”

I almost recoiled from her. “That won’t happen.”

She stared up at me. “Your loss.”

“Get gone.” I jerked my chin toward the door.

Her eyes narrowed spitefully. “You’re an asshole.”

She was right. I was an asshole, a bastard, a weirdo, a cunt, broken and battered. I’d been called every name in the book and even some made-up ones. This woman needed to count her blessings because I was doing her a solid. I’d only end up hurting her like I did the others.

It was what I was best at.

I leaned toward her. “You think you’re the one who can fix me, doll? You think one sweet smile will mend whatever it is that needs fixing? Better women have tried and failed, so why don’t you turn around and get gone. This ain’t no love story. I’m not your hero. I’m your downfall.”

She let out a huff, and her hand punched to her hip.

I nodded toward the door again. “Are you slow or somethin’? I told you to fuck off.”

“I should’ve known you’re only good for one thing,” she muttered, pursing her lips.

Folding my arms across my chest, I cocked an eyebrow. “And you’d be right. I mean, I did make you come, right?”

She tossed her hair. “Barely.”

Voices drifted in from the hallway, and I sighed with relief. The redhead was about to get bitchy, and I didn’t have it in me to deal with the drama. She walked into this room and lifted her skirt with just a nod from me. She knew the score and was happy to play the game when it suited her, and now it suited me for her to jet.

The door opened, and Pop walked in with Gambit. His eyes hit mine, and I could tell he wasn’t in a good mood.

My dad jerked his head toward the hall. “Time to go, sweetheart.”

The redhead tossed her hair again and threw me a dirty look before stomping for the door. “Men are assholes,” she announced before walking out and slamming the door behind her.

Dad cocked an eyebrow at me. “You losing your touch?”

I shook my head frustratedly. “I’m starting to think a simple fuck isn’t worth all the complications that come with.”

He dipped his chin. “Could’a told you that years ago.” His eyes hardened, and he pulled an envelope out of his pocket. “It’s three grand short. I’ve called the boys; they’ll be here any minute.”

My mouth twisted. “Are the men briefed?”

“They had a sweepstake going on how much Larry would stiff you,” Gambit informed me.

“Did Colt draw up the papers?” I asked.

“Ready to be signed.” My brother grinned back at me. “We’ll have Arena under our control by morning.”

I scraped a tired hand down my face. “The last thing we need is an underground fight club. Our livelihood depends on government contracts for God’s sake. If the Feds find out, we’re fucked.”

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