I feel the bed shift beside me and I no longer feel wrapped around Shank. I pat the bed next to me as I roll over. Half expecting nothing, Im surprised when I feel a body. Only the body is small.
Shanes small chubby face is right next to mine when I open my eyes. He crawled in bed with us last night.
I can hear his voice from the kitchen so I pad my bare feet in that direction. He stands infront of the stove where he's cooking something in one hand and his phone in his other. I admire his bare back. Muscles in his shoulder flexing as he moves.
"Yeah, after we eat. Well, we have something to do real quick then I'll talk to her. Ok. Bye." He hangs up and turns to put his phone on the counter behind him. I catch his attention and he glances down my whole body before reaching my face.
"Talk to me about what?" I move off the wall to sit on a stool.
"A run was interrupted last night and jewel needs patched up a little. But nothing that can't fucking wait until after the bunny funeral." A plate of eggs and bacon is placed before me.
"Why weren't you on the run last night?" I ask, half expecting him to tell me I can't know because it's club business.
"Because Jewel said he could handle it with Schiz while I came to check on Shane." He answers.
Oh.
I nod and eat my food. Shane bounces out minutes later and jumps up beside me to eat the plate of food Shank gives him. He leans back on the counter and watches us with his bare arms across his tattooed chest.
"You aren't going to eat?" I ask.
He glances at me. "I'll eat some bacon. No more eggs."
Shit. I forgot Shane broke all the eggs yesterday. Damn. I can't believe that was yesterday. So much happened.
"So that's it? Jewel just needs fixed?" There's more to it than that. He wouldn't have to talk to me about that. I actually have to do that as part of my survival.
He opens his mouth then closes it glancing away and clenching his jaw.
I bring a piece if bacon to my mouth but it smells funny so I put it back down. I take a piece of Shanes but it smells funny too.
"Don't eat that. Just the eggs." I tell him.
"Why the hell not. I just cooked it." Shank takes a piece of bacon and smells it too then eats it.
"It doesn't smell right. I think it went bad." I tell him.
He shakes his head. "Babe, it's fine. I promise. It wasn't left out."
I shake my head next. "Maybe its me. But you wanna chance him catching food poisoning over it?" I raise an eyebrow at him.
"He's not going to get sick, Missy. You might be getting sick. Eat it, son." He tells Shane. With no further persuasion Shane eats the meat. I shake my head again.
"You still haven't told me what you wanna talk about." Taking us back to our earlier conversation.
He glances at Shane then me. His eyes settle on mine and stay there. My whole body heats up at his stare so I look away.
I am not going to hop from one Man to the next. Maybe I am confused. I like both guys. Ugh.
Shane finishes and puts his plate in the sink before going to shower and put in some dress clothes for the funeral.
A glance back at Shank tells me he's close to contemplating life inside his head right now. He's picking at skin around his stubbed nails as he stares straight ahead.
"So." I urge him to talk fast.
"I'm trying to find a way to tell you without you flipping your shit on me." He scrubs at his jaw.
"Just say it." I snap.
"You and shane gotta stay with me until this shit is over or I feel it's safe!"
"Safe?" I ask.
He takes a deep breath. "They've been laying low 7 years and now they're harassing our women, interrupting deals, and shooting up the club house. Its not safe. You need club protection. And since Schiz and you are on ice, you're my responsibility. Besides the fucking fact you have my kid. So here's your options; my place or yours?" Well, what the hell kinda options are those?
"Mine." What's the use in arguing when it wont change what needs to happen? And his place is small. And it will just be easier to move his stuff here then to move mine and Shane's stuff to his house.
"Thats it?" He asks. His eyebrows are drawn close together and he squints at me. I almost laugh.
"Yup. Couch is all yours."
He grins. "Really? Even after last night?" He asks.
I fight a blush, which is useless. "Yeah."
After Mr. Jingles' funeral, we all change and I follow behind Shank to the clubhouse with my medical bag to patch up Jewel. He's chilling in a recliner with a beer in his hand as blood seeps through his white wifebeater. He grins at me as I approach.
"Hey, doc." He raises his beer to me. He's shit faced. I smile politely.
Patching Jewel up is no big deal. But facing Schiz after he told me to go is a different story. He paused only a moment when he catches sight me while coming from a back room.
He straighten up his belt and my mind instantly jumps to conclusions causing my heart to do flips. But he wouldn't do that. Right? He said he wasn't like that.
One of the club hussies skimpers out behind him, chest on full display and adjusting her skirt. My heart jumps then falls out my ass.
Keeping my shit together, though, I turn my head and continue to examine Jewel's wound.
That's when I notice the silence. Or, well, as silent as the clubhouse gets. More like less noisey.
I glance around and see a few people glancing between Schiz and me and the club whore. I blink and feel a tear slip down. Jewels hand reaches and he wipes it away before anyone can see it. "Don't sweat him, Doc." He whispers.
I stand him up and dig out the bullet and patch him up. All the while, the conversation slowly picks back up and I hear Schiz joking with one of his brothers.
Gathering my bag together, I start for the door to quickly leave and go back home. Someone grabs my arm and hope ignites that its Schiz but it's only Shank.
"You leaving? We just got here." He squints at me.
"Yeah. I don't want to be here." I glance back towards Schiz to find him at the bar cozying up to some other whore.
Shank glances back over her shoulder too. "Babe, don't fucking worry about him." He gives me a one hand shoulder rub.
"Just bring Shane home with you later." I shake him off.
He stands there in the doorway of the warehouse looking club until I disappear around a corner.
I don't go straight home, though. Because I'll only sit around moping and feeling sorry for myself and over thinking me and Schiz whole relationship. I just don't understand how he can go from wanting me and my son over at his house to breaking up with me in the same day. Makes no sense.
Instead, I pull into the hospital to talk to someone about a job. Maybe I can land a shift during school hours.
A short little blonde with a bouncing pony tail greets me at the front desk.
"Missy?! How are you?" She comes around to hug me. Sally Jones. What a headache she is. I plaster on a big fake teeth showing smile, nonetheless, and hug her back.
"Hey. I'm good, how are you?" Not that I care. Formalities, formalities.
She doesn't either but she still widens her smile, just excited to gush about her perfect life. Like they all do.
"That sounds great." I respond, not a word of what she just said was heard.
"What can I do for you?" She pats my shoulder one more friendly time before going back around the fake wooden semi circle desk. I lean forward on my elbows. Her eyes glance down to my clenched together boobs then smiles back in my face. She just hates that hers were professionally done.
"Are you guys hiring?" I ask her.
Her eyes light up with some epiphany. "You've moved back? I heard you quit the prison and went to some city?" She eagerly asks.
Nosey ass people in this noesy ass town. "Yes. My son needs his father." I just go ahead and confirm her real underlying question.
"His father?" Gosh, she wants every little detail.
"Shank." I answer, really annoyed because I came here got a job not the Spanish inquisition.
"Oh. I thought, well...never mind." She shakes her head.
"Schiz?" I ask. My chest squeezes at his name.
"Yeah. A few of us just thought..." She trails off.
I hold back of scoff. "No. Shank is my son's father. Now, the job?" I put a little edge in my voice.
She catches my tone and changes the subject. "Yes, I'll call someone for you to talk to." She picks up the curly corded phone.
I stand here. How? How can people think Shane is Schiz's when he looks exactly like Shank. People are retarded. And will do anything for a good scandal in this small ass backwards town.
A man comes up to me and a long white coat and I hand him a folder I've had on hand since the prison. Has my employment records, letters of recommendation, resume, background, and other information. He opens it, glances through some of the papers, reading little bits and pieces.
"Looks outstanding. I will definitely be calling later in the week to talk some more and hopefully set up an interview." He gives my right hand a firm shake.
I thank him and wave to Sally on my way out the automatic doors to the parking lot where I collapse in my car, socially drained. A knock on my window sounds and I look over to find Schiz.
I fumble to quickly roll down my window. "Where the fuck have you been, Missy Anne?" He yells. I jump from how loud he is, not expecting it.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
He opens up the car door and yanks me out. I stumble and nearly fall to the hot black pavement but he roughly grabs my upper arm and yanks me up against my car while he dials a number.
"Yeah. I found her. Tell Margo thanks." He hangs up. What the fuck is happening.
"We have been looking everywhere for you for the last hour, Missy." He growls. I guess hes still mad at whatever I did to piss him off. Now might not be a good time to ask him what it is.
"Why? I came here to talk to someone about a job." I point towards the hospital.
"Because you told your old man you were going home and when he got there, you weren't there. You have no phone for us to call you. All this shit with the Mexicans, now is not a good time to do something with out letting someone else know." He yells.
"My old man? You mean Shank? He is not my old man! Is that why you broke up with me!?" I yell back, things finally making sense.
He looks away and exhales.
"Wow. Really? Wow!" I'm at loss for words. He releases my arm and I get back in the car and pull out, not caring if I hit him in the process.
Fucking men!
They're all stupid!
My old man...fool.