Page 28 of Outlaws' Single Mom
“Not me booty!” the game cries out.
I manage to hold it in for exactly two seconds before I burst out laughing. The ball zooms past the flippers unhindered, accompanied by maniacal pirate laughter. I twist in his arms so we’re facing each other. “You plundered his poor booty!”
Stiff laughs. He leans back and his hands move from the pinball machine to my waist. “I’d rather plunder yours.”
“I’ll think about it. You’re apparently quite talented.” I’m not sure that came out as much of a joke as it sounded in my head. The moment hangs between us, silly but not. My smile slips.
“What’s going on in there?” He taps the side of my head.
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Which part?”
“All of it? I’m so glad you guys have been here to help me, but I feel guilty because it’s not really your problem, and then I remember the only reason you’re here is because my sister is gone, and I feel even guiltier for laughing or kissing or just not being sad all the time.”
“You’re allowed to be human.” There’s no flirtiness left in his voice, just empathy. “I told you I was hurt in a fight at the club. It was more than that. My name? Stiff? I was Duke before that, but the day the Vipers attacked, I was one of the first on scene, and I had to choose between my own life and buying my brothers time. I chose them, and I died for it. After everything was over, they pulled my corpse off the ground and managed to find a pulse. This life I’m living now is all bonus time. And I had so much fucking guilt for so long about all the people who didn’t get that same chance.”
“It’s not all gone yet, is it?”
He looks like he wants to deny it, but then shakes his head. “Nah, it isn’t, but it’s not there all the time like it used to be. It’s still fresh for you, and right now you have a whole lot of shit to distract you. Doesn’t mean you didn’t love her.”
“Logically I know you’re right, but it’s hard.”
“It’s been what? Three days? Give yourself a break. You’re doing your best and you have a kid to think about that doesn’t understand what any of this means. Maybe you don’t see it, but every time he gets nervous, he looks to you to see how he’s supposed to react. He needs to see that it’s okay to be sad, but it’s okay to not let it destroy you.” Stiff presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “And maybe he doesn’t need to see it, but it’s okay to let us be part of what distracts you.”
I can feel the smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. “How would you distract me?”
He runs his fingers through his beard, thinking, then gets close to whisper in my ear. “I’d get Logan a babysitter, bring you back to the club and fuck you until your throat’s raw from screaming our names.”
“Our?” The word comes out in a ragged squeak.
“So long as I get to watch, remember?” His breath skirts over my ear, a pulse of heat that travels a lot farther than it should.
“I can’t believe you just said that. I’m pretty sure a lot of people would say that is definitely not the rightway.” I feel terrible for laughing, but it feels good too.
“Landlubber, are ye there? Stilltwo more chancesto score my booty! Yarr!!” The number of chances comes out in a completely different voice from the pirate, like it was recorded separately by an entirely different person.
It doesn’t matter how serious this conversation got, there’s no way either of us keeps a straight face through that.
Stiff folds, his forehead hitting my shoulder as his back shakes with laughter. “You had to pick this one.”
“It has the best booty in the room. We should probably finish playing before it yells at us again.”
He kisses me quickly before I turn back around to pretend I’m playing pinball while he does all the work. Things feel easier between us, and while he stays close and it’s a little flirty, he doesn’t push. And when Logan and the others come over to find us, we find a stool for Lo to stand on so Stiff can teach him how to play, too.
16
LASH
“Hey,Hector, you ever seen this girl before?”
The Burnout’s a lot quieter on Mondays, but still busy. Most of the clientele doesn’t exactly work a nine to five, so the concept of weekends gets a little hazy. Hector pulls a beer for some guy from another club, then comes over. He squints, pulls a pair of glasses out of his pocket, and picks up my phone to get a better look.
“It’s definitely my place,” he mutters, zooming in. “What’s her name?”
“Georgia.” I lean in. “She’s standing with Ice, if you remember him.”
The look I get in return is deeply insulted. “Of course I remember Ice, God rest his black motherfucking soul. We went way back. You think just because those fuckers took him down, I forgot him? Now shut up while I try to think.”
