“No.” My teeth are clenched so tight, it’s all I can say.
“Danielle, Cheyenne, and Annie are about to beat her ass. Should I let them?”
An old impulse from when I was young and stupid flashes to life in my chest. Nobody touches Nevaeh but me. Mine.
Such a joke.
“What’s she doing there?” I ask.
Nevaeh Ellis isn’t welcome. Not at the clubhouse. Not in Petty’s Mill. I deployed, and she fucked half the guys in town. She even tried to fuck Heavy. She couldn’t wait six months. She was riding another guy’s dick before I got off the bus at basic training. More than likely, she was spreading her legs the whole time she was with me.
“She says Fay-Lee invited her.”
“What does Fay-Lee say?”
“Couldn’t tell you. Dizzy saw who she brought with her and dragged her straight upstairs. He’s probably bustin’ her ass for instigating.”
Dizzy and his old lady have their own way of doing things. Dizzy rules Fay-Lee with a firm hand, and Fay-Lee runs wild to bait him into it. She likes the rough stuff. She only gets really salty when he’s gone too long on club business. Fay-Lee’s a handful. I ain’t surprised she’s fallen in with Nevaeh somehow.
“Forty? Danielle’s got Nevaeh by the hair. You want me to intervene? Last call. I ain’t losing an eye over your ex.”
A picture flashes in my head. Nevaeh’s hair, those crazy, springy curls bouncing while she rides my cock, her fingers furiously rubbing her clit, eyes screwed closed. My dick throbs, and a cold ache sears my chest.
How long after she hopped off me before she hopped on someone else? Bile scores in my throat. Why? She doesn’t mean anything to me now. Hasn’t for years.
“Get her. Send her home. Tell her not to come back.”
“Ladies! Drop that bitch.” Heavy’s booming bass cuts through the racket, and then the call disconnects.
I’m left standing by the men’s room, hard as hell, heart racing, my whole body alive and hungry for the first time in years. I roll my shoulder, and the constant pain from the pins holding my arm together barely even registers.
Goddamn. Nevaeh Ellis.
I don’t ever let myself think about her, but I can’t forget anything, either, and the memories are burrs, thorns. Pebbles in my boots.
We had ninth grade English together. She was fourteen, mouthy, too big for her britches. I was a year ahead, on my second go at earning the credit. She pissed off this asshole from the lacrosse team. He kicked her chair out from under her. I beat his ass. She wouldn’t leave me alone after that.
She sat next to me, scooting her chair close enough so she could rest her leg against mine. She’d run up to me as soon as she got off the bus in the morning, careening to a stop, hands bracing against my chest, mid-sentence since she’d start babbling at me before she got anywhere close to where I could hear her, totally unconcerned that she’d elbowed her way through a bunch of delinquents to get to me.
She was everywhere I turned, and then I couldn’t leave her alone, either. I brought her around the clubhouse. Everyone loved her. Shirlene practically adopted her. Nevaeh never did like going home.
I waited until she was sixteen to pop her cherry. She was at me to do it for months beforehand, always grinding on me, sucking my fingers, trying to get me to lose my shit. To date, the hardest thing I’ve ever done is waiting two years to fuck Nevaeh Ellis. I was gonna marry that girl. I told her I loved her. Bought her a ring. Not a diamond; I couldn’t afford that. This was way before Heavy went to college and came back with the plan that turned everything around.
The ring was a pearl. The band was too big, and the gold was too thin to resize. She wore it on a chain around her neck, and it’d roll between her tits when we fucked. When she’d get antsy—and she was always antsy—she’d click-clack the pearl between her front teeth. I nearly came in my pants from watching her tongue roll that pearl.
She was perfect, and I was a dumb redneck with zero prospects. I joined up so I could make a life for us. She had a year left of school. I had it all figured out. All she had to do was sit tight, and I’d be able to buy her a house and a car. Whatever she wanted.
Instead, almost the minute I got to basic, I got emails that she’s out fucking around on me. I’d call her, and all she’d do is cry and tell me to come home. Like I had a choice. Then, one night, she came on to Heavy. She didn’t deny it. I dumped her. And all she said?
“You’re not coming home, are you?”
Heavy said she left town the next day, and as far as we know, she hasn’t been back since.
My blood’s burning as I shove my phone in my pocket and duck into the men’s room. I run some cold water, splash it on my face. That all happened a lifetime ago. We were kids. What some seventeen-year-old chick with issues did back in high school shouldn’t throw me for a loop.
Back then, I decided she did me a favor. After all, my mom was the same type: weak when it mattered. When the mill went under, Dad was out of work for years. He was Steel Bones, and he made ends meet by doing what he had to do, but it was feast or famine, depending on how the jobs panned out. He was on the road a lot. My mom couldn’t handle the lean times, so she left. Haven’t seen her since.
I don’t let myself think about her, either.
Now that the shock of hearing Nevaeh’s name is wearing off, my body’s chilling out. My dick’s hanging loose, and my muscles feel normal again. Stiff, tight across the shoulders, ready. The right amount of tension.
I’ve got an attractive woman, well fed and ready to fuck, and damn—I no longer have the slightest bit of interest in taking her home.
My teeth grit. What the fuck is Nevaeh Ellis doing coming around the clubhouse now?
She never had any sense. No loyalty and no common sense.
You always had to make things crystal clear to her. Speak loudly, be direct, and repeat yourself.
I should ride out to Lou’s place; she’s probably staying there. Lou’s her half-brother, a decent guy, although he’s rides a Suzuki. He hangs around the club, comes to parties. He never brings his sister up, so we’re cool.
He better not have anything to do with this. I like the guy, but he won’t be welcome anymore if he brought her around.
Yeah, driving out to Lou’s is a good idea. I’ll paint her a picture so there’s no room for confusion. When she came on to Heavy, she tried to drive a wedge between me and my brother. Steel Bones is a brotherhood. She’s not coming back from that. Not in ten years. Not in a hundred.
Even though it doesn’t need it, I slick down my hair with my wet hands, and I head back to Amelia. She’s ordered herself another glass of wine since I’ve been gone, and she’s posing, legs crossed, back arched. She’s hot. Nice proportions. Shiny hair.
“Emergency?” She smiles. She has very white teeth.
“No. Nuisance.”
She smiles wider. There’s a bright pink lipstick smudge on her front tooth. “So we have time for dessert?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
I sit in Broyce’s another hour regretting that “sure.” I don’t like sweets. Amelia seems to have forgotten she was feeling me up, and now she’s really into a story about a time her car broke down. It keeps going, and the whole time, my brain flashes through still shots of Nevaeh—shit I haven’t let myself remember in years.