Dad gives me a resigned smile as he slaps the kitchen table and says, “Come on, baby, or I’m going to take you on the table again.” Holly’s gasp of surprise is drowned out by the sound of my and Tracie’s chairs shoving back against the wooden floor as we scurry away from the defiled table.
Just when I had blocked that shit out, he has to bring it back up.
Asshole.
“Keep that gun on you, baby girl,” he says and points at me.
I nod and say, “Shoot first, ask questions later.”
“That’s my girl.” He gives me a proud grin and a wink that makes me feel like a little girl all over again.
They disappear out the front door, sneaking a chaste kiss on the way and laughing happily. When Dad thinks no one but Holly is looking, he smiles a lot. Even though it’s not at me as much as I’d like, it’s nice knowing he saves it for her. It makes it kind of special. Maybe he won’t destroy this relationship.
“Dude.” I elbow Tracie as I grab my gun and we walk up the stairs toward my room. “Dad left us alone. Totally unsupervised.”
Just as the words leave my mouth, my phone chimes. I shove the gun back into the waistband of my jeans and pull the phone from my front pocket. A message from Holly mocks me. DON’T FORGET GMA IS IN HER ROOM. GROUCHY SAYS YOU SNEAK OUT, YOU GO TO CONVENT. CONVENT=LAME=STAY HOME. BE GOOD.
My entire body turns to gelatin as I laugh heartily at the message. I love it when Holly calls him Grouchy. I bet anything Dad made her send me that message—he does that a lot—but I doubt he knows what she actually says in the messages. I show Tracie the message, which has her in stitches in a matter of moments, too. We give up on walking and park our butts on the stairs. I wince as my tailbone hits the barrel of the gun.
“Shit,” I shout and pull the gun out from underneath me and set it beside me. My tailbone throbs in pain, and I adjust my position on the stairs to lessen the discomfort. I could be missing my left ass cheek right about now if I weren’t so paranoid that I’d already checked the safety about twenty times since Dad made me get the damn thing out.
Tracie shushes me. “You’re going to wake up Lisa.”
“Grandma won’t wake up unless we throw a house party.” My fingers work quickly over the digital keyboard on my phone’s screen as I type out, DEFINE GOOD.
GROUCHY JR, she texts back with a sad looking emoticon at the end. I send back a heart emoticon and shove my phone in the pocket of my sweatpants.
“What are you thinking? All the good eighteen-and-up clubs are too far away, and you’re not even eighteen yet,” Tracie says. Ever since she turned eighteen, she’s been reminding me of all the things I can’t do. “Plus, you can’t go into a club packing.” She shifts her eyes to the gun between us. Tracie doesn’t know anything about the inner workings of the club, but she knows enough about the occasional danger that creeps up due to club-related problems. That doesn’t mean she’s comfortable having guns out in the open around her. She knows the score, though. It’s part of being connected, even loosely, to Forsaken.
Desperate to change the subject, I mentally inventory our options for the evening. “Well,” I say slowly. The idea’s forming in my head, but it’s stupid. I shouldn’t be thinking about this. Ever. The only thing that can come out of this is a majorly broken heart.
“Yeah?” Tracie says, eyes widening and waiting for me to finish.
“What if we... sneak into the party at the clubhouse...” I shove my face into my hands. I feel like an idiot. Jeremy and I had one date—one truly awful date—and we haven’t had a kind word to say to each other since I threatened to push him out of my bedroom window after he tried to maul me. But the idea of him turning eighteen at the clubhouse with all the Lost Girls and the wannabe whores who haven’t earned the title yet leaves an uncomfortable feeling in my gut. I just want to know, to see what’s happening for myself. Daniel’s going to be there, too. He’s still texting me, and I’m texting back now, so I kind of also want to know what he’s up to. If he’s hooking up with someone during the party, then he doesn’t like me enough for me to continue to let him pursue me.
“You don’t actually have to sneak in. The doors will be open,” Tracie says. “It’s so loud and dark in there, I doubt anyone will notice us.”
“No, they’ll have security this time. Things are kind of tense with the club.” I wave the gun in the air. It’s a fine art, telling the truth without telling too much.
“They have prospects at the gate, and I highly doubt any of them would be stupid enough to turn you away.”
I lift my head slowly as some things over the last few months start to make sense. The times Tracie was MIA, and when she started to tell me that there’s a major difference between sex and love. Then there’s the looks she gives Dad and my uncles when they’re around and how many times she’s commented on how attractive they all are.