“Now,” he says. “I don’t ever want to hear those fucking words come out of your mouth again. Don’t forget whose woman you are. Next time there will be consequences.”
And just like that, my blissful mood is shattered. Wiggling out from underneath him and scrambling across the room, I slide into my jeans and my flats. Turning to look at Duke, I find him standing; his broad shoulders block the light from streaming in from the window and cast a shadow over my frame. Consequences, that’s what it always comes back to. This is all way too fucked up. I shake my head slowly and fold my arms over my chest.
“No, I meant what I said. That was the last time you touch me,” I say and walk out, slamming the door behind me. In the hallway, I pause for a brief moment to see if he follows.
He doesn’t.
Chapter 4
I LEAVE THE clubhouse tucked into Chief’s side. He’s giving me a whole caveman speech about respect and the club and relationships. As much as I like Chief, I want to scream at him to shut up. He’s one of the biggest fucking hypocrites I’ve ever met. But doing that definitely has consequences. I say absolutely nothing that would allude to cooperation on my part and make up some bullshit excuse about having to pick Jeremy up at summer school. I don’t think he buys it, but he doesn’t argue with me, and he lets me leave quickly.
Pulling up to the small yellow ranch house, I cut the engine of the Corolla and take a moment to collect my thoughts. I never got an answer about who Princess is and what the hell is going on with her and Duke, nor do I think I’m going to get a straight answer from him. He said she isn’t who I think she is, but I don’t know who I think she is other than one of his good little whores. Pulling my cell out of my purse, I look up Chel’s number and send her a text saying, WHO IS PRINCESS?
It’s a little on the petty side, but oh well. If Duke is going to pull this crap with me, I want to know who the hell else he’s spending time with. My phone rings in in my hand. I check the caller I.D. to see Chel’s picture on the screen. Swiping the screen to unlock it, I bring the phone to my ear. “Hey,” I say.
“Are you and Duke a thing?” Chel asks in a whisper. Immediately, I’m on the defensive.
“That’s a hell to the no,” I say and lean my head back against the head rest. “Who’s Princess?” Maybe if I keep asking, she’ll actually tell me something. Chel and I are pretty tight. I’ve watched her kid so many times she should probably put me on payroll, and last year when she had nowhere to go, I let her stay in our extra bedroom. I could probably use that for leverage if she’s reluctant to give up the goods.
“Why do you want to know?” she asks.
“So you do know something,” I say. “Just spit it the fuck out, will you?”
“I’m not supposed to know this shit,” she says warily.
“Chel, I got shit to do today.”
“Fine,” she says. She draws in a deep breath and then slowly blows it out. It sounds like she’s smoking. I thought she quit?
“She’s Ruby’s niece or kid or something. Ryan says the girl doesn’t have a clue who her mom is.”
“That’s fucked up,” I say, unable to find anything else to respond with.
“You think?”
“So that’s why Duke calls her Princess? Because she’s Ruby’s kid? How fucking old is she?” I have a million questions flying around in my brain as I try to process it all.
“I don’t know,” Chel whisper-shouts. “Ryan says she’s legal. Do you know the last name Mancuso?”
“Should I?” I ask. A quiet chuckle sounds on the other end.
“Look it up. You’ll see. I gotta go. Chief’s coming.” The line goes dead, and I toss my phone back into my purse and climb out of the car. On my way into the house, the phone rings. It’s the clubhouse. I slide the bar to answer the call, but when I hear Duke’s voice, I hang up. He tries to call twice more from both the clubhouse and his cell, but I ignore those calls. Fuck him and fuck his bullshit.