- Home
- Jessica Gadziala
Adler (The Henchmen MC Book 14) Page 10
Adler (The Henchmen MC Book 14) Read online
Page 10
"Yeah," I agreed, knowing firsthand. "But you don't think that's it."
"I don't think that's it," she agreed, looking off at the backbar for a long moment, speaking to it when she opened her mouth again. "I think that whatever happened in that basement unlocked something within her. She's always been this smart girl, confident, sure of herself, and so fucking skilled. Scarily skilled for her age. But maybe a bit blind in a way too. You wouldn't think that would be possible. What with her parents, her aunts and uncles. But they have all done a really good job shielding her, protecting her from the uglier sides of life. And now that she has gotten exposed to it, I think she is viewing the world differently. Maybe even on some kind of mission she has cooked up in her mind."
"But why run away? With the resources she has here."
To that, she shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe she knew things would fall back into old patterns soon enough. Her being protected - likely even more so than before. And she doesn't want that anymore. It sucks that she's doing this. To her parents. To all of the rest of us who love her. But I think if they are looking at it clearly, not emotionally, they will someday understand."
"Understand what?"
"That it is possible to smother someone with too much love. That by keeping her in this cage they want her in, they would have stunted her growth. No one wants to think that their teenager can do without them. But they did well with Ferryn. Gave her every advantage a young girl could have. She will do well. Thrive even. And then she will come back. On her terms. When she's ready. And everyone will get to fall in love with her all over again - whoever she turns out to be."
"That is a very logical way to look at it."
To that, her lips curved up ever so slightly. "Yes, well, no one would accuse me of being all touchy-feely. I'm a bit of a realist. And I didn't see her grow up," she added. "If she was like a niece or little sister to me, yeah, I would be drinking myself into oblivion with the rest of them," she admitted, waving her hand to the Henchmen who had seemed to multiply. And bring along their old ladies.
"Hey Peyt," she called, catching the attention of a woman with mermaid hair, tattoos, and an interesting sense of style. Interesting because she was in a skintight miniskirt that had little unicorns with assault rifles on it, a hot pink top, and pumps that had little machine guns for heels.
"I'm doling out my A-game, and no one is even cracking a smile," Peyt said as she walked over. "I know you don't know me, but I'm hilarious," she added, looking at me.
"Peyton, this is Lou. Lou, Peyton. She's Sugar's girl," she added, pointing to the tall, dark-haired, gray-eyed guy talking to Virgin.
"Lou? As in the Lou? The Lou that has Adler moon-eyed?"
There was no stopping the pleased flutter in my belly at hearing those words. From women who clearly knew him better than I did at this point, who would know what was and what is not normal.
"The one and only."
"So what have you and my girl Lenny been talking about? Please tell me it's not sad. I don't think I can take anymore sad. It's been a long few weeks."
"I was just explaining the situation. Adler has been pretty constantly at the compound. She had no idea what has been going down."
I didn't miss that.
Pretty constantly.
So not all the time.
Meaning, what?
That he had a job he was out of town on? That he was chasing down leads to find his president's daughter? That he had come back to his apartment?
The thought made my stomach twist painfully.
Ugh.
He was making me be someone, act like someone, I was not.
Or - and this was an even more unacceptable possibility - he was showing me parts of myself that had always been there, but never uncovered.
Maybe I had always been cursed with the ability to be weak, needy, jealous, suspicious. Maybe I simply had never allowed someone close enough to expose those parts.
"So, Lou, what do you do?" Peyton asked, hauling herself up onto the bar since there were no available bar seats.
"I'm a bounty hunter."
"No shit? Like Domino?" she asked, eyes lit up. "Is Adler your very own Choco?" she added, hand going to her heart as she fluttered her eyelashes.
"Adler is my neighbor," I said carefully, making sure no bitterness or desire slipped into my words.
"He bought you a dog," Lenny butted in.
"It was my birthday."
"How is he in the sack?" Peyton asked, eyes bright. "He walks like he tucks it into his sock," she added, making Lenny snort, then choke on her drink. "Come on, we're all slutty little sex-lovers here. Spill!"
"I wouldn't know," I admitted, actually feeling my neck heat at the words, embarrassed for reasons I didn't understand. "But, ah, I don't think you're wrong," I added, remembering the feel of his cock against me, making my poor, undersexed system cry out desperately in need.
"Wait," Lenny said, lips parting for a second. "You haven't slept together yet? Seriously?"
"I mean short of having some lady-business issue, I don't see why not," Peyton added.
"No lady-business issues," I told her with a small smile. Unless chronic horniness for a man I hadn't even seen in weeks counted as an issue. And, well, maybe it did.
"You're not one of those no-sex-before-marriage religious people are you?" she asked, lip curling at the very idea that I had gotten to thirty without getting laid.
And, quite frankly, my own lip curled as well. "No."
"Then why the ever-loving fuck have you not ridden that sexy accent having ride?"
"Stubbornness, mostly," I admitted, making Peyton make an agreeing sound, nodding her head. "We were, ah, getting there. When he got the call."
"The call?" Lenny asked.
"About Ferryn," I clarified.
They fell silent for a moment before Peyton put her glass down on the bar beside her thigh. "When she comes back and is a grown ass woman who has known the delight of a good dick herself, you have to tell her how big of a cockblock she was," she declared. With certainty. Something I most certainly did not feel given the circumstances.
"If I am around then," I grumbled into my drink, pissed that my mood was making my booze turn me sour instead of fun, a chance you always took when you decided to drink about your feelings instead of face them up and deal with them.
"Len here knows Adler better than anyone except maybe Ward," Peyton started, making me perk up, wondering what kind of connection Adler had with an underground fighting bigwig. "So, I'm thinking that if she thinks something is different about how Adler responds to you, then I think we can trust she's right."
"We barely know each other."
"Honestly, I barely knew Sugar when something in me seemed to recognize there was more than just some epic sex and movie dinner dates going on. I think Len had a similar situation with Edison too. Though we were both pretty good at fighting it. Just saying. Maybe it will just be epic sex. Or maybe it will be something different. And as much as I was terrified of different, it turns out it is actually pretty nice too."
"I think that's enough girl talk," Lenny declared, seeming to pick up on my discomfort, my uncertainty. "How's the dog? Rey wanted you to know that if you need help training, or a dog sitter, or a dog park buddy, she is game. The lockdown is over now. She will be back at her little zoo. She'd be happy to have you. And force fruits and veggies down your throat."
"Why didn't she come out tonight?"
"Reeve stayed back at the compound to keep an eye with Roan. Just because one threat is over doesn't mean there might not be new ones. These Henchmen have some crazy stories. From what I hear, you do too."
So then things went to easier topics, my jobs, Peyton's life antics, Lenny's past.
By the time we were booted out, my face was numb, and everything seemed unnaturally funny.
"Alright, mami," Roderick said, slinging an arm around my lower back, hauling me into his side, the momentary lack of equilibrium making the world spin on
its axis. "We gotta get out of here."
"You, sir, are very cute, but you don't get to take me home," I declared. Loudly.
"Oh, I'm taking you home," he informed me, pulling me along with him down the street. "But I am gonna leave you there with some Advil and a bottle of water. Fully clothed."
"Afraid of what your buddy would think?" I asked, leaning my head into his shoulder as he half-dragged me along with him, my legs going tingly, just barely able to carry me.
"If you ever saw Adler fight, you'd know he is worthy of fearing. But no. I respect my brotherhood. Whether either of you would admit it or not, you're his. He's staked his claim. You're off limits."
"What are we, dogs? He just pees on me, and the rest of you back away?"
I could feel the laugh move through him before it left his lips. "It's about respect. And, hey, whatever kinky shit you and Adler are into is none of my business."
I smiled at that even as my eyelids started getting heavy. "I think I like you, Roderick," I declared.
"Like you too, Lou," he agreed, leaning down, swooping me up off my feet, holding me against his chest.
"This is not necessary. I have legs."
"Si, mami, but they don't seem to be working for you right now. How much did you have to drink?"
"Almost enough," I declared.
"How is it not enough?"
"Still thinkin'," I slurred into his shoulder, closing my eyes in an attempt to stop the swirling.
"About what?"
"He bought me a dog."
That was the last thing I remembered saying as we closed in on my apartment building, Roderick just chugging along like I weighed nothing, fishing my key out of my pocket at the door while doing some cocked-legged balance of my body.
Then he did as promised.
He situated me on the couch, handed me Advil, watched as I chugged some water, helped me kick off my shoes, gave Linny a giant bone out of the pantry to keep her occupied.
And left me.
I woke up to a marching band in my brain.
And not the okay kind, the ones at the Macy's Day Parade each Thanksgiving.
No.
The ones in some Bumfuck, Nowhere town with no arts funding, some teacher who is half-deaf and just doesn't give a fuck anymore, and a group of kids who think by playing louder, they will sound better.
That kind of marching band.
My organs felt wrung dry, making me sure I had drank more than bourbon the night before. My beloved Turkey never did me this dirty. I had a feeling vodka had his wicked little hand in things. My stomach twisted and turned the moment my eyes opened, pinching small at the harsh light streaming through my window.
I was sure I had the blinds closed. Mostly because, well, I had never opened them. Since the view was directly into an apartment over the store next door where the owner never closed their blinds and liked to walk around naked. And, hey, I was all for freedom in your home, but I did not want to see that. Let's just say he was in desperate need of a full-body wax.
So, yeah, that blind had been closed.
And since Roderick had dropped me off at night, there was no reason to open it.
Which could only mean...
"It's rude to break into someone's apartment," I grumbled, my voice sounding like I had gargled with glass before bed.
"Linny let me in," Adler's voice said from behind me, calm, casual, maybe even a hint of amused.
It was inconsiderate to be amused in front of someone suffering from a hangover.
Summoning what strength I had, I pulled my upper body up, peeking over the back of the couch to find Adler sitting on my counter facing me, eating something out of one of my bowls, Linny at his feet looking up with pleading puppy dog eyes.
"Have you been hand feeding her?" I asked. Well, accused was more like it.
"She was hungry."
"She has dog food. You're going to spoil her."
"What's wrong with gettin' spoiled?"
"You say this because you're not the one who has to hear her cry anytime they eat from here on out."
"Sure I will. We're sharin' her, remember?"
"Fat lot of help you've been with that," I mumbled under my breath, too low to be heard clearly, my whole body in too much misery to care that it was an unfair thing to think, let alone say. Considering the situation.
"What was that?" he asked, tone still unaffected, making my stomach unclench, realizing he hadn't heard me.
"I need coffee," I ground out, reaching for the bottle of water Roderick had left for me.
"Lucky for ya, I have it brewin'," he informed me, and the sound of his rubber-soled boots hitting the floor somehow sent off a stabbing of pain in my temples. He made his way to me a moment later, holding out coffee made how I liked it - likely from observing my making it at the diner in Atlantic City. That felt like ages ago. The fact that he remembered made a sliver of warm move through my belly, giving me a short-lived break from the churning there.
"Ya are a ray of sunshine when ya got a hangover, huh?" he asked, smiling a bit as I growled at the sound of high heels on the floor above me.
"It's all their fault. They force fed me inferior liquor."
"They bein' Lenny and Peyton?" he asked, head cocking to the side slightly, eyes roaming over me. I was sure I was a real pretty sight right about then too.
Oh, well.
Let him see my ugly.
Better to get that shit out of the way early.
All that was left was to show him the stretch marks on my ass.
Actually, with my cheeky panties in AC, he'd likely already seen those as well.
"They're an interesting cast of characters," I agreed, folding my legs inward, wishing I had a blanket to cocoon myself into.
At least I hadn't thrown up. Small miracles.
"They are that," he agreed, tone warm.
"Roderick walked me home," I told him, not sure why my words had an edge, almost as though I was attempting to rub it in his face.
"Way I heard it, he carried ya. And ya talked about me the whole way."
"I did not," I objected, feeling humiliation rise up unexpectedly.
"Fine. Half the way," he allowed, shrugging. "Still an ego boost."
"Of which you were not in the need. Besides, everyone knows that you can't trust what people say when they're drunk."
"Even if ya said ya been havin' wet dreams about me since I left ya on the couch that night?"
"I did not say that!" Oh, God. Please tell me I did not say that. Even if it was true. I would never be able to face Roderick again if that were true.
"Fine, ya didn't say that," he conceded. "But that flush on yer neck says I was right. Ya gonna try to deny it?"
"Can't help it if my body wants something that isn't good for it. Hence my hangover," I added, draining what was left of my coffee.
"Not good for it? Lou," he said, scooting across the coffee table, leaning so his elbows were on his knees, putting him in my space. Normally, that would make my body hum with anticipation. But I was pretty sure booze was leaking through my pores. I didn't want him catching a whiff of that. "Think we established the last time I was here that I am very good for ya."
"Oh, pl..."
"Or was I imagining the way ya were so wet that I could feel it through yer panties, duchess? Was that just my imagination?"
"It is the asscrack of..." I started, glancing at the clock, "noon," I went on, cringing a bit. I never slept in this late. "It's too early for this."
"Been weeks, Lou. Think we've waited long enough for this talk."
"I thought what was on your mind was not talking," I said, unfolding my body, stretching out my legs, and moving to stand, silently praying my stomach didn't pitch at the movement. I just needed to get away, get some space to clear my head.
"I want to not talk with ya more than ya know, duchess. But we got to do some talking too."
"About what? Favorite positions? Birth control options?" I asked as I moved behin
d the couch, glad when he stayed perched on the coffee table.
"Would love to talk about that too. Soon. In detail," he added, those lips curving up all devilishly. Damn him. He was somehow attractive even during an epic hangover. "But we got other shite to discuss first."
"I hardly..." I started, getting cut off by the shrill ring of my phone, making me hunch forward, pulling my shoulders up to my ears before diving at it like a lifeline, glad for any distraction right then.
"What?"
"Need you," Geoff's voice all but hollered into my ear, making my eyes shut against the pain piercing my brain.
"Not a good time, Geoff," I told him as I reached for the Advil with one hand while pouring more coffee with the other. It was time to get this fucking hangover off my head. Meds. Coffee. Water. And something greasy. That was what I needed.
"What? You getting your nails done, Lou? You're gonna have to ruin your manicure. I got a live one."
"There's always a live one. And you have four other guys on staff. Call one of them."
"Already did. Just got back from the hospital, visiting Christian. Who got twenty stitches and a concussion for his trouble."
I liked Christian.
He looked like an All-American quarterback.
And fought like a kid raised on the streets.
If he got hurt, the skip had fought hard and dirty. If he fought hard and dirty, there was no way he was planning on coming in. That made him wild and unpredictable.
And that made him my kinda skip.
"What is the payout?"
"Five grand for you. Not a big one, but if it is any consolation for your righteous ass, he beat the shit out of his pregnant girlfriend, then bullied her into dropping the charges."
"Then what was he in for?"
"Drug shit. I need your ass down here in twenty minutes."
"I'm hungover as fuck. You'll see me when you see me. A file that has more than four pages would be appreciated. And by appreciated, I mean they will allow me not to take my bad mood out on you."