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

I lean against the shower wall, watching the blood run down the drain, turning from pure red to orange to clear. I’m no stranger to blood, seeing as much as I have over the time I have been working at the club, you get used to it. I took matters into my own hands tonight and found Scarlett’s boyfriend, taught him a lesson about putting his hands on women. I called the ol’ ladies, asking if they would help me. Vera knows the deal between me and Locks, and was instantly in on going against him. I close my eyes and the image of Dani swinging that bat, the look on her face, the tone of her voice, flashes behind them. She walked in on me and Vera getting ready to hunt down Scarlett’s boyfriend, so I had to bring her along, nervous if I didn’t, she would run to Bull or Shadow and tell them what we did. Dani has a lot more in common with Bull than I think anyone realizes. The way she snapped from scared little girl to psycho so quickly, she definitely has Devil’s Dust in her blood. I open my eyes and notice blood staining the skin around my nails. Shit. I grab the soap and scrub at them.

Hopefully, Dani will keep her mouth shut.



I wake up to the smell of coffee and eggs, my dick jumping in excitement that Babs is here. I dress quickly, grab my cigs, and head toward the kitchen. Everyone is still asleep, the early sky dark grey from the sun just rising. I walk in and find her whipping eggs in a bowl, her hips shaking back and forth as she sings “Hand In My Pocket,” I think by Alanis Morissette. I can’t help but grin. God, she is beautiful. She closes her eyes and wails the lyrics, not noticing me at all. I never thought I would fall in love again after Lady. Swore I wouldn’t, yet here I am in the most complicated situation ever. Loving a woman, but not being able to fully love her.

“Oh, my God,” she squeals, her face turning red with embarrassment as she finally notices me by the doors. I stride over, grab her by the back, and kiss her. She grabs the back of my head and kisses me back, hard. Her tongue tasting mine as my hands cup her round ass. She backs up, her ass just sitting on the kitchen counter. She grabs my hand and places it over her breast, her head falling back from the contact. I love a woman who knows what she wants. I squeeze it, my other hand grabbing the other breast harder. She grabs my buckle, quickly undoing it. She pushes my jeans down my hips, my length standing at attention when it’s freed from the fabric. She fists my cock and starts pumping it, a groan spilling from my mouth at the contact. My head falls back, enjoying the foreign touch of her jacking me off. Her touch goes absent. Just as I bring my head down to see where her hand went, I feel hot warmth around my cock. I look down to find her kneeling and bobbing on my dick. I fist my hands in her hair, pushing and pulling her sweet mouth on my dick. Her teeth graze it, sending sparks through my shaft. I moan loudly, self-control out the window.

“It smells good in here.” I feel Babs tense. I pull my pants up and go to the fridge quickly.

“Your food smells so good; it could wake the whole club up,” Tom says, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Babs beams at Tom as she begins to whip up the bowl of egg yolks. I don’t know how much longer we can hide this. That was a close one.





weeks later

I open my eyes to pitch black and ringing and vibrating sounds from the side table.

“What time is it?” I groan and roll over, my hand flailing around for my cell phone.

“This better be important,” I answer, my eyes refusing to open.

“I got information that the brothers need to hear. Get them round up—”

I pull the phone from my ear, looking for the time.

“Shadow, it’s three in the morning. We’ll talk first thing, son. Go to bed,” I demand, my voice heavy with sleep? laced with irritation.

I hang the phone up and roll back over.

***

I wake up too fucking early. With Shadow texting me every hour from five this morning, I didn’t sleep well. I dress, grab my cigs off the table, and head for the kitchen.

“Hey, Babs, make me some eggs, will ya?” Locks asks Babs, who is standing next to the coffee pot, his tone more demanding than asking. The coffee mug just shy of Babs’ lips, as if she was going to take a sip, halts as she glares.

“Anything else I can get you, babe?” Her voice manipulating and coming off sarcastic.

Locks walks out of the kitchen, not catching on to Babs’ sassy mouth, that or he doesn’t care. I look her over this morning. Man, she looks fuckable. Her red hair is in a big curly bun, black tight shirt with some shiny shit on it, and some tight as sin blue jeans.

“You better stop looking at me like that.” Her voice is sultry as she winks.

I wait for her to say something, to continue, but she doesn’t. I look over my shoulder and find her eyes furrowed as if she is deep in thought.