“Which one?”
“Candi. You want me and Killyama to kick his ass?”
“No. If he’s fucked up, he’s no good for me, anyway.” Either in or out of the sack, Crazy Bitch thought to herself. “Thanks for the info. I’ll call someone else for company.” She hung up, going back into her bedroom to slip on a large T-shirt and panties.
Turning out the light, she didn’t call any of the bikers who would have beat a path to her door, nor did she answer the door when she heard a knock on it three hours later, knowing it was Calder.
Her pride kept her ass in bed until he left. Next time she saw him at the club, she wouldn’t give him the time of day, much less give him another chance of getting in her bed. She didn’t give second chances. Second chances were for losers, and she’d had enough of those in her life.
Whoever said party girls didn’t get hurt, didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about. They could get their hearts broken just as badly as the good girls. The difference was that party girls hid it better.
Crazy Bitch wished there was alcohol in the punch to take the sting away from her stroll down memory lane.
“How’d you meet Sam?”
Killyama’s question had Crazy Bitch cringing. “Fat Louise.”
“You’re dating someone Fat Louise introduced you to?”
“I was meeting her for lunch and Sam was leaving at the same time, so she introduced us.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“He bills patients for one of the doctors at the hospital.”
Killyama’s mouth dropped open. “Who are you and what have you done with my bitch?”
“Nothing is wrong with that. At least he makes a living. That’s more than I can say about the last five men I hooked up with,” Crazy Bitch defended her choice of date.
“I don’t care if he shovels shit. I just can’t understand why you would refuse to let me set you up with Jonas. You prefer that pussy over Jonas? It just doesn’t make sense to me.”
“I want a man I can get serious with, not two.”
“That’s just a rumor.”
“Okay… if you say so.” Crazy Bitch rolled her eyes as Sam returned, handing Killyama her glass of punch.
“I miss anything?” he asked, his eyes going from Killy’s angry face to her unconcerned one.
“No. Let’s get something to eat.” She took his arm, nudging him toward the table that held a smorgasbord of food.
“Your friend didn’t seem to like me.” Sam looked at her worriedly.
“Don’t worry about it. Killyama hates everyone.”
She wasn’t worried about her friend’s impression of her new boyfriend. He had a job, a nice car, wasn’t bad to look at, and most importantly, he could pay when he asked her out. So far, he only had one failing. He wasn’t Calder.
2
“Who’s the bozo with Crazy Bitch?” Calder asked his brother as Star opened her birthday presents.
“Don’t tell me you’re still sporting a hard-on for that bitch.”
Calder shrugged. There was no sense in denying the truth. He had been trying to hook up with her since he got clean.
Seeing Crazy Bitch placing a slice of cake on her new boyfriend’s plate had him turning around to watch his niece again. A wrenching pain struck him in the gut when he saw Star motion to Stud, hugging him when he came to where she had unwrapped his and Sex Piston’s gift to her. It was the new laptop she had been asking for. He had thought it was too expensive for a kid her age, but Stud had only bragged about how smart she was.
Every time the subject switched to Star when he was with his brother, Stud would give him a look as if he wanted to ask if it bothered him that he had married Candi. He wasn’t. He couldn’t begrudge Star being a part of Stud’s life. He was a standup guy, always looking out for him, even when everyone else had turned their backs.
He didn’t blame them. He had fucked over his friends and family for the drugs that never could keep him satisfied for long. The monster inside him had to be fed constantly, gradually increasing his amount of tolerance that had him escalating his use. Stud had tried to pull him back, but he had thought he had it under control.
He didn’t blame Stud for getting together with Candi when he was in prison. They had been toxic together. He still had his “Dear Calder” letter she had written to him, telling him she had lost their baby and that she and Stud were getting married.
He wasn’t a rocket scientist, but even he could count birthdays. Star was his. Calder had decided before he had even gotten out of prison that he would forfeit any right to be called Star’s father.
He had never mentioned it to Stud or Sex Piston, and had no intention of ever telling Star. What kid would want him as her father? A recovering junkie, whose brother had to give him a job because of his record.