Page 39 of Maddox
Delaney doesn’t understand our world and maybe she’s curious but dabbling in the waters without expecting to get wet is incredibly naive. If she doesn’t back off, she’s gonna meet someone who won’t tell her off for her own good, thoughts of which send a shiver down my spine.
Beyond that, she’s dangerous. Maybe she doesn’t know it and maybe she wouldn’t do anything on purpose but there’s a reason why we don’t mix.
Her people don’t like our kind, and they aren’t shy about showing it, a lesson I learned when I was a sixteen-year-old, horny jackass with a painful, never-ending boner.
While all the little peckers were studying for tests and their bitch ass peers were playing football, I fucked my way through half the school.
Shit, there was so much honey, I never ran dry.
By the time I met Holly, I was knee deep in pussy and loving life. With her big tits, fine ass, and perpetually pouty lips, she sucked me in easily.
We fucked like bunnies for a year before she decided to move up in her world and bagged the captain of the football team.
While I missed the kinky shit she was down for, I found a few new recruits and even fucked the douche football player’s ex, in the locker room.
When Holly came crawling back on her knees—literally, I ate that shit up. Not so much her asshole boyfriend, who found us fucking in the locker room after one of his games.
I guess he didn’t like the fact that she was shaking her pom poms in my face.
That was when I learned a painful fucking lesson. Never trust a chick with a sweet smile or a daddy for a cop.
She may have been kinky as all get out, but she was also a vicious little twat.
I spent a night in jail for that one but even her pig dad couldn’t pin one on me when she finally admitted she jumped on my dick like an eager whore.
After that though my hatred for the pigs magnified and I avoid women like Holly because I don’t need the shit that comes with them.
These are the thoughts that roll through my head as I park beyond the gate at the clubhouse and find Officer Ben Dickhead Montrose standing by the entrance with a scowl.
Wolf with his customary mask of boredom faces them and I smirk because whatever the pig wants, he ain’t getting it from us.
Unfortunately, Wolf has run-ins with this dick too often, especially now that Rose, Wolf’s half-sister, and the pig’s daughter refuses to speak to her parents.
Things only got worse when someone took it upon themselves to shoot the sheriff, Ben’s father, while he was lazing in front of his television on a random Sunday.
Ben studies Wolf with a curl to his lip before his eyes slide to mine. Neither of us has forgotten that day eight years ago when they booked me into the Bay River jail as a minor and I earned myself a new set of charges after punching him in the face.
This was after he made a snide comment about my mom, and I lost my shit. That got me community service and a record that went away when I turned eighteen, worth it because this fucker now knows he’d be a fool to mess with me.
I’ll never forget what he said though.Bitches like your mama deserve what they get.
So yeah, I’ve hated Ben Montrose for fucking years. One of these days he’s gonna get what’s coming to him but I can be patient. I’ve got time.
“What do you want, pig?” Wolf grunts, pulling me from my thoughts.
When Ben stiffens, I shake my head and say, “Careful, you get any stiffer and the giant stick up your ass is gonna break.”
Ben doesn’t comment, which is just as well. He wouldn’t appreciate my snark anyway.
Instead, he says, “I’m here about Marguerite Stephens.”
It was only a matter of time before the pigs linked her back to the Saints, although we were hoping to have more of it before they started sniffing around in our business.
“So?” Wolf says, crossing his arm.
There’s no love lost between these two and it shows when Ben’s brows slam over his eyes and he barks, “The woman’s dead. Don’t you fucking care?”
“Whatever. We done now?” Wolf says and eyeing the tic in his jaw, I intervene before this gets out of control.
