Son of a Beard (The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC #3)

“That was the hottest, best sex I’ve ever experienced in my life, and I think I need a smoke and a drink now,” she mumbled into the mattress.

She lay still, not quite able to move yet, and I liked the sight of my release decorating her back, so I stayed right where I was, too, gathering my wits and staring at the beautiful woman beside me.

“I need a towel,” came her muffled reply.

I snorted and got out of bed, snatching my underwear off the floor, and my pants off the bed post, before heading to the bathroom.

Pulling on my underwear, followed by my pants, I left them zipped but unbuttoned and then grabbed the rag off of the towel holder and wet it down.

Wringing it out, I walked back into the bedroom only to find her in the same position, face down on the bed.

“You okay over there?” I asked her, placing the wet rag against her back and methodically cleaning my release from her.

She squeaked when the cool towel hit her skin, and goosebumps broke out over her back, arms, and legs.

A tease of sorrow hit me as I cleaned the last remnants of my release off completely, and I tossed the rag a little harder than I should have, beaming the wall across the room with it before it fell into the hamper underneath.

“I better not have jizz on my walls,” she muttered, turning her head.

I smiled and dropped a kiss to her cheek before getting up and searching for my t-shirt.

“Have you seen my tee?” I asked. “I have to be at a class in about thirty minutes.”

“The last time I saw it, it was out in the living room,” she muttered, eyes closing once again in the early morning sunlight that was streaming through her partially open blinds.

I buttoned my pants and hooked my belt as I made my way to the living room, spotting my fucking tee exactly where she said it was, but annoyed to find the goddamned cat sitting on it, cleaning its ass.

“Get off, fucker,” I muttered, yanking it out from underneath him.

The cat lithely got to his feet, tossed me a hiss, and then walked off with his tail twitching in the air.

I curled my lip and shook out my shirt before I shrugged it on.

Immediately, I sneezed.

I was allergic to cats…had I mentioned that?

Not so allergic that I couldn’t be in the same house with them, but allergic enough that if they slept on my goddamned shirt, I would be sneezing and likely itching until I could get a shower.

I’d just turned the corner to head back to her room when I stopped in my tracks.

She was standing there, leaning against the wall, waiting for me.

“You don’t like my cat?” she guessed.

I snorted.

“No,” I murmured. “But only because I’m allergic to them.”

Her eyes widened.

I sneezed again.

“I…don’t know what to do,” she finally admitted.

I winked at her.

“It’s okay. I’ll go home, take a shower, and everything will be back to normal…promise.”

She pursed her lips.

“Trust me.” I held up my hands, one in the air, and one out flat, like I was swearing on a bible.

Then the words she said next stopped me in my tracks.

“I trust you completely, Truth. With my heart and with my body,” she whispered. “You’re a good man.”

I wasn’t a good man.

The words my father hurled at me as he’d left dinner stuck with me.

She had to be curious. That had to also be the root of why she was saying this to me in the first place. She wanted to reassure me that she was on my side…and she shouldn’t be.

And as I left five minutes later after getting one final goodbye kiss, I knew that I needed to leave. If Elais Beckett found out about Verity, he wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep in his quest to make sure that Verity endured the same fate as my grandparents.

He’d made me a promise five years ago—one that I thought he’d never be able to carry out—that he would make my life a living hell.

Too bad I didn’t believe him.

It might’ve saved me a whole lot of heartache.





Chapter 12


I either give too many fucks or not enough fucks. It’s like I can’t find a middle ground for perfect fuck distribution.

-Verity’s secret thoughts

Verity

I was at work, but he wasn’t.

At least he’d told the crew that I was now in charge. If he hadn’t, I would’ve left. None of them trusted me at this point, anyway. I’m just a woman that the new boss man was banging, and they thought I got this job because I was fucking him.

Which couldn’t be further from the truth…could it?

Normally, I wouldn’t doubt myself. Not even a little bit.

However, it’d been five days—which seemed to be a common occurrence with him—since I’d seen him, and I was beginning to wonder what in the hell I was thinking working this job.

Though, that didn’t stop his brother and sister from coming in two days ago telling me goodbye, and giving me hugs.

It was the sympathy I saw in their eyes that had me biting my lip and trying to figure out what in the hell was going on.

Was there more to what his father said than I knew?

And if so, was he ever going to tell me about it?

As I walked out of the pub around two p.m., confident that the crew could handle the rest of the afternoon and dinner crowd, I knew I was going to light into him the next time I saw him.

What gave him the right to string me along like this?

Getting into my car, I drove to Truth’s place first, then to the police station.

I didn’t know why I went there. I didn’t really know anybody on the force except Big Papa. I knew for a fact that he’d talk to me.

He may not tell me where Truth was, but he’d tell me if he was okay…which at this point was what I really needed.

Confident in what I was about to do, I pulled into a spot next to a police car and turned off my own car, staring at the big brown building with a look of foreboding.

This likely wasn’t a good idea.

Truth knew people in there, and I didn’t want to embarrass him.

But I was concerned, and a little bit mad.

I wanted answers, and I wanted them now.

As I got out of the car, I was determined to get my answers.

I had my bad ass face on, and as I marched into the police station, head held high, I headed toward the first officer I could find and demanded to see Big Papa.

“BP is in a meeting.”

My sails deflated.

“What about Aaron?”

The hard-nosed woman sneered. “I can help you.”

I rolled my eyes.

“No offense, ma’am, but I’m looking for someone, either Aaron or Big Papa. You aren’t a substitute for them,” I admitted.

I could tell I’d offended her.

Her badge said Stephanie, and just when I was about to offer an apology, Aaron appeared around a corner, his phone to his ear.

He saw me immediately, and his eyes narrowed.

Coming straight to me, he latched onto my elbow and started to pull me in the direction he wanted me to go.

Which, apparently, was outside and around the building.

All the while he maintained his conversation he was having on the phone.