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Nine and I have barely spoken. During the day he works in the office next to the field. I spend my time drinking while watching mindless TV or drinking while reading one of the books from the stack underneath the TV. Surprisingly, I found a collection of Edgar Allen Poe Poetry that I’ve read twice since I’ve been here, but hundreds of times before.

Some days, I switch it up and just drink.

At night I make a big show over sleeping on the couch by myself only to wake up in bed circled up next to Nine unsure of how exactly I got there. I’m alone. Well, I’m sort of alone. Either Pike or one of the Lawless MC brothers are standing guard outside the door at all times, taking turns bringing me food and thankfully, vodka.

I’ve just showered and wrapped myself in a towel. I’m searching my bag for a hair tie. I cheer when I find one at the bottom of my bag. The RV door opens and I jump up, wrapping the towel tighter around my naked body.

Pike’s head appears as he leans in through the open door. “Hey, pretty girl. Get ready. I’m going to take you to meet him in ten minutes.”

The door shuts before I can tell him that I don’t have any clothes to put on. I stomp my foot in frustration and spin around to face the kitchen.

I spot two pairs of stretchy athletic shorts and a couple of racer-back white tank tops that have somehow magically appeared on the counter while I was in the shower.

I get dressed quickly. The shorts are shorter than I like to wear, and if I bend over, I’m pretty sure my ass is going to hang out. The tank tops fits perfectly. Snug, but made of thick enough cotton that won’t tell the world that I’m not wearing a bra. It’s a nice change to put on real clothes instead of wearing only panties and one of Nine’s shirts.

Pike is waiting me for me outside in a black van.

I get in with Baby Vodka on my lap and fasten the seatbelt over the two of us. “So how about that job?” I ask Pike with a bright smile that says I know my question is ridiculous, but I’m going to ask it anyway.

He glances down at Baby Vodka and cocks his head, probably confused at to why I’m treating it like a small child. What he doesn’t know is that it’s all I have and I’m a grown woman and I’ll treat this bottle of vodka like a baby if I damn want to. Surprisingly, all he says is, “You do know that children shouldn’t ride on laps. Didn’t you learn anything from Britney?” He pulls out of the field.

I pet the bottle. “We don’t like to be separated.”

Pike leans over me with one hand on the wheel and searches through his glove compartment. He finds what he’s looking for and clicks it shut, handing me a black leather flask with silver initials on the front that read PLV. “Here, you can keep it.”

“Thanks,” I say, trying to keep a steady hand while pouring vodka from the bottle into the tiny hole in the flask while Pike drives.

Pike sighs. “I want you to know that giving you the job isn’t my call, but if it was, no lie? I’d hire you in a heartbeat. You’d be great at it. Better than Trina, but then again, anyone would be better than Trina.”

“Then why does she work there?” I ask, screwing the top on the flask.

“She’s my cousin. Parents died a while back and I didn’t want her to be in the system so when I got out I got her out gave her a place to stay and a job. She’s…a unique individual. Only seventeen even though she’s been through more shit than most people twice her age.”

I think about my call with Lori when I asked her for a temporary place to stay. I wish she’d been half as generous as Pike is being with his cousin.

We pull up to a three-story house on stilts hidden behind a wall of brush lining the street. We pass a large garage to the left and keep rolling on the shell driveway until we stop next to the open parking area on the bottom level of the house.

“He’s back there,” Pike says, pointing straight ahead. I spot Nine sitting on the seawall behind the house overlooking the bay.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say sarcastically.

I take my flask and hop from the van. I eye Baby Vodka on the floor and contemplate bringing it with me.

Pike chuckles. “It’ll be in the RV when you get back.”

I nod and head toward Nine.

“Whose house is this?” I ask.

He turns around and shoves his hands in his pockets. “King and Ray’s,” he says, looking up at the house and shielding his eyes from the sun.


Tags: T.M. Frazier King Romance