The Broken Pieces of Us (The Devil's Dust #2.1)

“What happened?” I question softly. She doesn’t reply. She just keeps looking down, holding her cheek. I grab her hand gently and pull it from her face, revealing a hand mark staining her porcelain skin. It’s so red it looks purple. Little goose bumps rise from the pain firing through her cheek.

“What the fuck happened, darlin’?” I whisper, my eyes widening with concern. She’s silent, just a lone tear escaping her eye.

“Candy hit you?” I ask. Candy, a common whore of our club, has mattress hopped every room of the club, and then some. I can’t stand that bitch; reminds me of her momma, Roxy. I used to fuck around with Roxy before I found a woman I was crazy over. Bad thing is, I just didn’t realize how crazy I was over that woman till she left. Candy and her Momma have a thing in common, taunting the ol’ ladies. I sure thought one of the ol’ ladies would have taken care of Candy by now, like they did Roxy, but that must just be wishful thinking.

I grab Babs by the chin and pull it upward so she has to look at me.

“This is all your fault,” she whispers, pinning me with angry eyes. “I understand you got your guy code, bros before hos and can't be a cockblocker bullshit, but you’re still just as much an asshole as he is.”

I nod. She would think that, and she's right. I knew it was going on and I felt like shit watching it. I know she deserves better, but damn, it's not like I could do anything about it. Fucking Locks. I look back down at Babs and I groan deeply. She is so beautiful. I have always had an eye for her. That fiery red hair and sassy mouth of hers is captivating. To see her so broken, it’s unnatural and unfair to her.

“Let me make it right,” I offer.

She pulls from my grip and stares at me. Why the fuck I feel so guilty is the question of all this. I wasn’t the one who fucking cheated and I didn’t cause this, regardless of what Locks told Babs.

I look back at the club and push my hands in my pockets. The rage from Locks disrespecting me in front of the girls surfaces as I stare at it. I look back at Babs and grin.

“Work for me,” I suggest. She winces, closes her eyes, and looks back at me.

“What?” she asks, her face scrunched in confusion.

“My club could use a woman’s touch, someone to cook a few times, clean some sheets—”

“Do I look like a fucking maid? How is that supposed to make it right?” she interrupts, her hand held up to stop me from talking.

“I’ll pay you,” I say, sliding my hands through my hair, her tone starting to anger me.

“I have a job, thank you very much,” she spits, placing her hand on her hip.

“Where do you work, doll?” I ask, crossing my arms, curious who could handle her attitude and big mouth and not fire her in one day’s work.

“Dirty Barrels,” she replies. That dirty little bar across the freeway? I try not to laugh. Of course she would be a bartender. I’ve been to Dirty Barrels though. It’s a shit place, and I bet the tips aren’t any better.

“I’ll pay double, and working here you can keep an eye on Locks.” She snorts, as if I’m ridiculous. “If you want to look after him that is,” I continue. She looks off into the distance, as if she is thinking about it. I don’t have time for this. “Take it or leave it,” I say, walking back toward the clubhouse.

“Fine, I’ll take it,” Babs says, giving in.

I keep walking toward the club, turning my head just barely to get a glimpse of her. “Good choice, I’ll see you first thing tomorrow.”

I walk into the club and find Locks in the kitchen and Candy on a barstool examining her nails as if nothing just happened. The calm state she’s in angers me. I grab her by her trashy blonde hair and pull her off the stool.

“Time for you to leave!” I growl.

“Let go of my hair, you asshole,” she screams, grabbing at my fist in her hair. I push her out of the club doors and stare down at her. I can tell this bitch is going to be a problem.

“You are going to fucking pay for my hair; I just had those extensions put in!” she shrieks, looking at the strands of hair falling from her head.

“Yeah, don’t hold your breath, doll,” I spit angrily.

“Wait until my mother hears of this,” she threatens. I curl my lip, looking at her in confusion. Why the fuck would I care what her mother thinks?

I shut and lock the doors, scowling at the slut littering my courtyard.



I jump in my truck and fly out of the courtyard of the club, my eyes leaking uncontrollable tears as my mouth makes this horrible sobbing sound.

“Fucking asshole!” I scream as my foot pushes down on the gas pedal.