Page 10 of Link's Property
Yes, I am. I’m ready to focus on anything other than the problem I’ve got between my legs. Brought on by the little spitfire who rode into my life last night and has broken my moral compass.
“King, Rory, this is Shayna. Shay, this is our President, King, and his daughter Rory.”
“Hi.” Rory smiles, looking happy there’s another girl in the house, someone who isn’t a club whore. Poor kid is constantly surrounded by sweetbutts and testosterone. Dozens of overprotective growly men. It will be good for her to have Shay around.
“Hi.” Shayna greets her back. “Thank you, King, for letting me stay and for offering me a job. I’m sorry I barged in here last night. I just didn’t know where else to go.”
The girl is sweet, I’ll give her that. And I know King will appreciate it. Some of the girls around here have grown to act like entitled bitches. Cherry in particular. She’s always grumbling about having to do housework when they’re getting free room and board. Cherry pitched a fit this morning after Itold her she’s going to be rooming with Kira from now on. If it hadn’t been for Ripper walking in when he did, I would’ve told the girl to pack her bags and leave.
“No worries, doll.” King tips his head. “Any family of Link’s is welcome. Plus, it will be good having a real bartender in the house.”
Shay cuts me a look, not understanding the family comment, then quickly hides it with a smile when she turns her attention back on him. “I make a mean old-fashioned.”
He smiles at her remark, and for some reason, my stomach twists up. Even the old Prez is eyeing the girl up.
“We need to get to those plans,” I tell him. “Are you gonna be okay for a bit, kid?”
The attitude that hits her glaring eyes reminds me of the little spitfire she used to be back when she was a teenager. Now, that hellion is attached to a porn-star bod and it’s making my thoughts turn even darker. I used to punish her with stern words and a few days in juvi to teach her a lesson. Now…there’s a different form of discipline running through my mind.
And that’s my fucking cue to get out of this room.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she states, and that sultry voice is cut with an edge. I know she’s not a fucking kid, but I need my dick to think of her that way.
“Have you seen the property yet?” Rory asks her. “I was just going to get a cup of coffee and walk down to the lake. Want to join me?”
“Sure. I’d like that.” Shay gives her a genuine smile. “Thanks.”
“Just remember you have schoolwork to do,” King reminds his daughter. Rory nods and he kisses the top of her head before making to leave.
“You need anything, Shay, just holler.”
She doesn’t look at me when I speak or give me any more of her smiles, but it’s probably for the best. There needs to be some distance between us. We need to have boundaries if we’re going to be living under the same roof.
5
Shayna
“So, how do you know Link?” Rory asks as she leads me down a dirt path. “Are you two related?”
For a moment I thought she was King’s girlfriend. The girls in this place are all on the younger side. But then I saw the way King was looking at her. It’s the same way Link used to look at me when I was a kid. Now, he just looks mad. He looked downright livid when I told him I was attracted to him. I’d thought I’d caught him checking me out, but I completely misread that, didn’t I. I’ve never been so embarrassed. He still thinks of me as the kid he almost adopted and there I was trying to make a move.
But goodness, I couldn’t even help it. He is one fine specimen of a man. As a kid, I had goggles on and no hormones running through my veins to even think about his looks. But now…all I see is thick muscles, dark tattoos, and those chiseled lines thatled down to a prominent piece that was barely hidden by the towel he had on.
“I’m not his family.” Like he’s apparently told everyone I am. “He was my correctional officer when I was a kid.”
“Seriously?” Her eyes grow big and round. I wonder if anyone’s ever told her she looks like the little mermaid, but with blonde hair. Her eyes are an incredible shade of blue.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “I ran away from the group home I was living in and stole a tip jar from a diner so I could buy a bus ticket.”
That was just one of the many things I did. Slashing our director’s tires was another. But that was because the jerk canceled Christmas on us because he said we were being too noisy one night. Then I spray-painted the girls’ bathroom at school, but only to cover up all the not-so-nice things girls had written about me. Then I bashed the windows of the horrible people who broke Izzy’s hopeful heart. I had to do a year in the detention center for that, but it was worth it. Izzy was never the same after living with those people.
“You lived in a group home? How come?” Her question tears me back from the memory, one I hate to think about. All the tears. So much sadness.
“My mom couldn’t handle parenting, so she turned me over to the state. I lived in one foster home, but they sent me back when I was three.”
“Wow. I’m really sorry.”
It’s such a genuine reaction, so kind and heartfelt, but I’m not sad about my situation. Not anymore at least. Now, it’s just a fact of my life. It’s all I knew growing up. I’ve certainly never known what it’s like to live in a house full of huge, dominant men. That has to be a wild experience. Not exactly the societal norm.
