Giving the families money has helped the most to take some of the guilty burden off my chest. Ten thousand doesn’t come close to making up for their lost loved one, but it’s better than sitting around drinking and doing nothing for them.
* * *
All in all, I’m finally starting to feel more like the man I was before the murders and the divorce papers, just so much hornier now that there’s usually an attractive woman sitting just at arm’s length away from me in my apartment. It would be so easy to cross that line, because I’m confident Lucy would be all in on getting naked together. I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen how she looks at me like I’m an ice cream cone she wants to lick when she thinks I’m not paying attention. Fucking her would be a much-needed stress reliever; but for whatever reason, I haven’t gone there. Maybe it’s because I’m still not ready to move on or that I’m worried once I remember how good sex feels I’ll be addicted and won’t be able to get enough. Fucking a girl on the regular is how relationships start. Throw in the fact that Lucy practically lives with me and that has the makings of getting too serious way too fast.
I just ended a marriage, so I definitely don’t want anything that even looks like another commitment. At the moment, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stomach a long-term relationship again.
Still, I can’t deny that Lucy is fun to be around. Without even trying, she’s cute and sexy in an annoying yet irresistible way. And her always bubbly personality makes it impossible for me to sulk. Not that I want to as often lately. There’s something about the way she looks at me and treats me. When we’re together, it’s easy, comfortable, and familiar, like we’ve known each other for years.
But the bottom line is that Lucy and I are just friends, and I plan to keep it that way.
Probably.
No, definitely.
So what if I’ve been jerking off in the shower every night after she leaves? I’m a healthy man in my twenties. My libido is finally making its way back to normal, and it’s perfectly natural to think about the woman I spend most of my days with naked. Usually it starts with her in that little black bikini, and then I rip it off of her, but eventually she’s naked and under me. Or above me. Or on her knees in front of me. I think I’ve fantasized about fucking her every way possible in my new nightly ritual, which is a nice change from rehashing old memories of being with Ellie.
But in real life, I would never make the first move with Lucy. I can’t deny that if she were to straddle me on the sofa and pull my dick out, I doubt I would be strong enough to stop her from riding me. Which is ridiculous considering she’s light as a feather and about as aggressive as a butterfly. In the short time I’ve known her, I’ve figured out that Lucy’s just not the type of girl to pounce on a man, which means the two of us will remain strictly platonic. Unless I get her so drunk one night that she loses her inhibitions…
No. Hell no.
That would be really fucking wrong, and I feel guilty enough about a million other things I’ve done as it is.
At the top of that list would be my continued absence from the Dirty Aces. I miss the guys and worry about what fresh new hell they’ve gotten themselves into while I’ve been MIA. They’re all like brothers to me, the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real family.
I haven’t stepped foot in the pool hall, on the cruise boat, or in an Aces meeting in over four weeks. And so, when I get a group text from Malcolm calling everyone in this afternoon at six before the boat leaves the dock, I finally suck it up, put on my cut and get ready to join the group again.
“Oh, are you heading out?” Lucy asks in surprise from the sink where she’s washing up the dinner dishes, when she notices I’ve put my shoes on.
“Yep. Aces meeting,” I reply.
“Oh,” she says again, shoulders slouching. With that one word and her body language, I know she’s disappointed I’m leaving. I shouldn’t enjoy her obvious sadness due to my absence, but I do. “I’ll lock up when I leave,” she tells me, which now makes me unhappy for some peculiar reason.
“I shouldn’t be gone long if you want to stay,” I offer. “We can finish watching our show when I get back.”
“Okay, sure,” she agrees, flashing me a smile that makes my gut clench.
Am I leading Lucy on unintentionally? If so, it’s fucked up; but I’m too selfish to push her away.
I’m the last one to the table; and as soon as I take my seat, Malcolm bangs his gavel to bring the meeting to order. All of my boys were smiling and greeting my return, but quiet down immediately and turn their attention to our president.
“I ain’t going to take up much of your time, but I’ve got some important updates,” he begins. “Last time we got together, we discussed patching over two more clubs that have been friendly to us in the past. We’ve made some headway on that arrangement. I’ve been in contact with the boys, who were manufacturing the speed Harry Cox was putting out on the streets. We’re going to ‘facilitate’ a new distribution arrangement. These new chapters are going to take over sales of the drugs in a broader area than old Cox used to manage, and we’re going to oversee their progress. If they can show they know how to be profitable, we’ll patch them over. If not, we’ll pull the business and find other clubs who can better meet our needs. Anyone got any problems with that?”
Everyone at the table nods to him silently, with no one raising any objections.
“It keeps our hands pretty clean for now, while still providing a steady income. We get a cut of the sales, of course, which these charters will happily provide since we’re bringing them the business and taking them under our wing. I’ll keep you updated on how that works out as we progress.”
“Speaking of Cox’s business,” I ask as Malcolm pauses to take a sip of the whiskey glass he has at hand, “you heard anything about any blowback for taking him down? Or even worse, any investigations coming down?”
“Not a peep,” Malcolm answers, shaking his head after he empties his glass. “I’ve got several sets of ears to the ground, but so far, nothing. Harry Cox was not a well-loved member of society, so let’s keep our mouths fucking shut and our fingers crossed that we’ve heard the last of him.”
“I hear you. I’ve just been worried about what we did…” I start.
“What we had to do,” Devlin interrupts me. “Harry Cox brought hell down on his own fucking head; and if I have to, I’ll tell a jury the same thing. We did the world a goddamn favor burying that fat bastard.”
“You’re right,” I sigh in agreement with Dev. “I just hope that, if the authorities do make any connections, they see it the same way.”
“You worry too much,” Fiasco grunts.
“And you don’t think enough,” Wirth smirks from across the table.
“Enough!” Malcolm orders. “Unless you’ve got something important to add, this meeting is adjourned. You can go goose each other and play grab ass out in the pool hall, but I don’t want to hear your shit,” he says as he bangs his gavel to dismiss us.