Devil's Kiss Read online

  The Tahoe is back from the shop now, so I take it to the store, which is pretty full for a Sunday morning. I’m a little worried I’m going to see Kyle again, which would be awkward since I turned him down for a second date, but there’s no sign of him. It takes me a while to get through the busy store, but I think I’ve gotten all the food we need for the week. When I get back to the house, I spot Stick’s Harley in the driveway. He’s back! I pull the Tahoe next to it and grab a couple of the grocery bags and take them in.

  Stick and Stacy are curled next to each other on the couch with giddy smiles plastered across their faces, clearly pleased as punch to see one another again. West is sitting in the armchair. Everyone looks to the door as I enter.

  “Hey!” I greet Stick, dropping the grocery bags by the edge of the couch as he stands. We hug tightly. “Still have all your arms and legs?” I ask as we part and I look him over.

  “Oh, yeah, don’t worry. Everything went smoothly with the Devils,” Stick assures me. “I stopped at Stacy’s to grab her first on my way back here. I thought we could all have lunch together or something.”

  “Well, I’ve got a bunch of food in the car if you’ll help me unload it,” I say, jerking my head to the front door.

  “Sure,” West offers. He stands up and walks out the door, and I notice the absence of a touch or look as he passes me. It feels so strange. Just a little over an hour ago, we were in bed together. I follow him out with Stacy and Stick and we quickly unload everything into the kitchen.

  After we eat on the back porch, I head into the kitchen to grab another beer. I hear the door open and slide shut, and I look up, expecting to see West, but it’s Stick.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks in a hushed voice.

  “Um...the Black Rock is closed on Mondays,” I shrug, “So probably just hanging around, I guess.”

  “You think you could come shopping with me?” Stick mumbles.

  “I...What? You want me to go shopping with you?” I ask incredulously.

  “Well...” Stick glances furtively toward the sliding door in the living room. “OK, don’t freak out, but I’m going to ask Stacy to marry me.”

  My jaw drops. I know he warned me not to freak out but, what? My wild older brother is getting married?

  “Oh my gosh! Stick! This is crazy!” I whisper excitedly.

  “What do you mean?” he asks, frowning worriedly. “You think she’ll say no?”

  “No, I mean crazy in a good way!” I say quickly, “I just...I’m surprised, that’s all! But you guys are so great together, really. Do you know how you’re going to ask her?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m having a cut embroidered for her,” he smiles, “She’s expecting that, I think—for me to ask her to become my old lady. But I don’t think she’s expecting a ring, too. I don’t know what kind, or shape, or whatever, to get. I mean, what the fuck is a fucking ‘carat’?”

  “OK, don’t worry, I know this little boutique place near the mall we can go,” I smile, “Stacy actually pointed it out to me. Hey, I wonder...”

  “What?” Stick asks.

  “Well, it might be a good sign that she pointed it out to me,” I tell him, “I mean, pointing out a jewelry store that you really like to your boyfriend’s sister? Maybe it wasn’t completely casual.”

  “Wait, really? You think—?” he asks excitedly.

  “What are you two doing in here?” Stacy asks, sticking her head in from outside.

  Stick and I both jump guiltily. “I was just explaining to my sister here that I’ll be picking her up after work tonight, since West already has plans,” Stick explains to her.

  “Speaking of, I better go get changed. I have to be there soon.” I say, heading into my bedroom. Does West really say he has plans tonight, or was Stick just covering? He’s hung out at the Black Rock every night I’ve worked while Stick was gone. Well, I guess this is the new normal, then. The faster I get used to it, the better.

  That night at the bar, I feel distracted and zoned out. I mix up a few drink orders and forget to serve another couple. It’s not like me at all, and I see Franchise watching me a couple times. I tell Sharon that I’m just tired, and she tells me to leave a little early since her kid’s with his dad anyway. I text Stick, and soon I’m riding behind him back to the house.

  The next morning, I wake up late and cranky. I take a hot shower and try to shake off my mood. I don’t want to be in a funk when I go ring shopping with Stick. I know it’s a big deal for him and I don’t want to ruin it. We take the car over to the mall, and I point out the Little Blue Box – the jewelry store that Stacy liked. We walk in and the woman behind the counter smiles at us.

  “I think we’re just going to look around a little first,” I tell her preemptively. She smiles knowingly. God, I hope she doesn’t think Stick and I are the couple. I wave Stick over to one of the cases and point out the different kinds of cuts. He frowns down at them, unsure.

  “Hey, there’s something I wanted to bring up,” I say. He looks at me questioningly. “Well, I know you and Stacy are going to want to move in together, maybe start a family...” Why does my throat feel tight all of a sudden? I rush ahead. “I just wanted to bring it up first, so that you don’t feel awkward about it. I’ve been saving up my money, so I’ll be able to find a place really soon.”

  Stick looks relieved. “Oh, Olive, don’t worry about it. Stacy loves you. I mean, hopefully if this goes well, she will move in, but there’s no rush for you and West to move out or anything. Besides, the house is just as much yours as it is mine.”

  “Well, not really, though. Dad left it to you,” I point out.

  “Dad...” Stick begins, frowning. “He didn’t know what he was doing. He just never knew what to do with a daughter. I mean, I know I can overcompensate sometimes because of the way he was...”

  I raise my eyebrows at him. He’s never really acknowledged what’s at the root of his overprotectiveness before.

  “Yeah, yeah. Stacy’s been pointing some things out to me,” he acknowledges. “But the thing is, he should have left the house to both of us. And when the market’s better and we can sell it, you’ll have half of what it brings.”

  “No, no,” I protest. “That’s a great house for kids, for a family. It’s different now that you’re asking Stacy to marry you. You should keep it.”

  “But don’t you want to be able to have a nest egg for yourself?” Stick asks, “For when you find someone and start a family?”

  That tightness in my throat is back, worse than before. I struggle to speak.

  “Well, I don’t know. We’ll see if that ever happens,” I say, “I think I might have a broken compass when it comes to guys or something.”

  “When you meet the right guy for you, you’ll know,” Sticks says, nodding sagely.

  “Well, I had that feeling about someone once,” I begin tentatively. I know I can’t talk to Stick about West too specifically, but I feel like I’m going to explode if I keep it inside. “We got along so well, like we could have been friends, on top of the...you know. But he also balanced me out really well. And he was exciting.”

  “But…” Stick prods me.

  “I don’t really think he’s a relationship kind of guy,” I say.

  “Olive,” Stick says, and I can hear the beginning of a lecture coming on.

  “Forget it. We’re here to find you a ring, not break down my personal life,” I say, swallowing the knot in my throat. “OK, I think you should consider these square cut ones over here. And I don’t think you should only focus on the diamonds either. There are a lot of beautiful stones here,” I add, waving my hands to the other cases.

  “What about this one?” Stick says, pointing to a cushion cut.

  The sales lady begins to sidle over, sensing her opportunity.

  Chapter Fourteen

  West

  “Has there been anything else?” Ratchet asks, leaning back in his chair. We’re in his office in the clubhou
se, eating our lunch together.

  “I’ve noticed a blue sedan following me on and off. Checked the tags. It’s a rental,” I answer.

  “How’s the engine running?” he asks.

  “It’s fine. Could’ve been a lot worse if whoever it was had known more about cars,” I reply.

  Ratchet leans back, pulling on his beard. He helped me replace the Tahoe’s filter and found the mix of sand and dirt someone had dumped in the tank.

  “Could be the Devils...” he muses, thinking out loud. “Stick said that some of their brothers weren’t too happy about the terms of the deal we offered them. Maybe some of them are trying to get us back in some way.”

  “Yeah, it just feels...personal, somehow,” I tell him, “The Devils would be more likely to walk into the Black Rock and crack a pool cue over my head if they had a problem, not follow me around like some fucking pussies.”

  “Well, let’s just keep it quiet until we know what’s happening,” Ratchet says. “I don’t want Trip or some of the prospects going down there all hopped-up on something and kicking ass if we don’t know what’s really going on. Do Stacy and Olive know?”

  “Nah, we didn’t say anything to them,” I say, “Stick figured they were already worried enough with him out of town on a run.”

  “Speaking of Stick,” Ratchet smiles, “I hear there might be cause for celebration this weekend.”

  “Yeah,” I grin back, “He’s all worried, but she’s gonna say yes, no question.”

  “So what are you going to do?” he asks, finishing up his sandwich and brushing the crumbs of his desk.

  “What do you mean?” I ask him, “Hey, you going to eat that pickle?”

  “Fuck, West, you eat more than anyone I’ve ever met,” He laughs, “Go for it. I mean, Stacy and Stick, they’re going to want to live together, probably not with roommates...” he gives me a meaningful look.

  “Oh...” I say, his meaning finally dawning on me. I munch thoughtfully on the pickle. “Guess I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “I guess you could just stay with a different woman every night,” Ratchet says with a smile, “but eventually, it might be nice to stay in one place for a bit.”

  “Maybe...” I say, standing up and tossing my empty brown bag in the trash. “I’m gonna finish up that radiator with Don. You were right, by the way, he’s pretty good.”

  “All right,” Ratchet says, grabbing a pen and leaning over some paperwork.

  The newest prospect Don and I work on the radiator of a shitty old Ford pickup for the rest of the afternoon. He’s ready to do most of the work himself, which is great, because I’m busy thinking about what Ratchet said.

  Fuck, Stick and I were always a team. It was always us, hitting on girls together, having each other’s back. This house thing is just the beginning. If I’ve thought he’s been busy with Stacy lately, imagine what it’ll be like when they move into the house, have babies. They’ll have their own family, and I’ll be on the outside looking in, just like when I was a kid.

  Don and I (well, mostly Don) finish up on the Ford, and I head home. I scan my mirrors for a sign of the blue sedan, but there’s no sign of it. I pull into the driveway and feel a deep weariness as I walk into the house.

  When I step though the front door, I see Olive at the kitchen sink, her hands buried in soap suds. She looks over her shoulder and smiles at me, though her eyes have a distant look in them. All I want to do is bury my face in her neck, take her back into my bedroom and feel her body underneath mine. Everything just felt simple and easy for a couple weeks, and now it all feels complicated again. I haven’t even touched her since Stick’s been home.

  Tossing my helmet onto the floor, I cross the living room and move into the kitchen. I walk carefully up behind Olive, as though she might disappear if I take my eyes off her for even a second. I wrap my arms around her waist, pleased to find that she’s real, and warm, and here. Her body stills under my touch, her hands dropping in the sink, still covered in soap and water.

  Closing my eyes, I feel her rest her head back against my chest, her body relaxing in my arms. But only for a moment. She stiffens, and I feel her gently press her elbow into my abdomen. What the fuck? I step away from her, frowning down at the back of her head.

  I hear a floorboard creak in the hall behind us, and turn to see Stick standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Shit...how long has he been standing there? His expression is blank, his head tilted slightly to the side in consideration. I hear Olive begin to wash off the plates in the sink again.

  “Hey, Olive, want me to drop you off at work on my way to Stacy’s?” he finally asks.

  “Yeah, that would be great,” Olive says, turning off the faucet and drying her hands. “So, tonight’s the big night, huh?”

  “Yep,” Stick says, grinning nervously.

  “I called the restaurant, the private room is all set up,” Olive says. That’s news to me, though I guess I can understand why Stick would rely on Olive and not me for something like that. I’m not exactly known for my prowess in romantic gestures.

  “I’ll ask one of the prospects to pick you up tonight,” Stick adds. “I know West must have other things to do. We should get going.”

  “Yeah, let me just grab my purse,” Olive says, walking quickly to her room without looking at me.

  “Good luck tonight, man,” I say to Stick.

  “Thanks,” he replies with a grin, the uneasiness gone from his eyes.

  A moment later, Olive is back with her bag and she and Stick head out the door with a wave.

  The house feels empty and quiet all of a sudden. I walk to the fridge and grab a beer, then reach back in and grab the whole six pack. I head out the sliding door to the back porch. I place the beers on the table, turn one of the chairs so it’s squarely facing the backyard, and drop into it, kicking off my boots.

  I crack the first beer open and watch the orange sun set over the horizon. It’s a beautiful night, my best friend is about to get engaged, and I’ve got a full six pack by my side.

  But why is it, then, that I still find myself scowling into the distance as the sun descends?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Richard

  I lie on my back in Olive’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. I can see the remnants of small circular stickers up there. Probably from those glow-in-the-dark stars that girls were always putting on their walls back in the day, though it looks like Olive has tried her best to take them down.

  Glancing at the clock, I see that I still have plenty of time before anyone is likely to get home. I love being in Olive’s room. I feel so peaceful here. When I first came out to Vegas, I was so angry with her. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I rented a car and drove out here to her house, only to find her living with two bikers. Olive’s mother forgot to mention that her son, the accountant, does the books for a fucking motorcycle gang.

  So I bided my time. I knew that with these thugs in the picture I would have to plan carefully. And while I was following her, watching her, I realized that she had gotten involved with that asshole, West. At first I was angry again, then disappointed. Then I really just felt sad. Sad for Olive. Sad that this is what her life has turned into. I mean, dating some dumb fucking gang member? He could never appreciate her the way that I do.

  That’s when I figured out what I needed to do. I needed—I need—to rescue her. Her life is spinning out of control, and she needs someone to step in and put it right for her. At first, she might be confused, maybe in pain, but eventually, she will thank me. And she will realize that I’m the one that’s been there for her all along.

  I turn my head to the side, breathing in her scent from her pillow. A thrill runs through me, and I feel my dick getting hard.

  It was amusing to realize that her brother didn’t know about his sister and good friend being together. I’ve been trailing her for days now, and watching them through the windows. As soon as her brother came back, Olive and West stopped to
uching. Lying to your own brother—not a good move. When Olive is back with me, I will never let her do anything like that. I will encourage her to always be honest and straightforward with people.

  I stand up and walk over to her wicker clothes hamper. I take the top off and look inside. More dirty clothes since I was here two nights ago. I reach in and take out the black thong sitting on top. These are new, I think, as I rub the soft lace between my fingers. I definitely would have remembered seeing these while we were dating.

  Carefully folding them, I place them in my back pocket. She won’t notice they’re missing. I walk to the cork board she has hanging on the wall above her desk. There are pictures and little notes pinned to it haphazardly. I run my eyes over the pictures. Mostly from high school, though there’s one new one. It’s of her, her brother, West, and her brother’s fiancé. Looks like it’s from some kind of backyard barbecue.

  I reach up to take it, but hesitate. Probably too obvious. I choose a different one, one of the many photos of her from when she was younger that she’s not as likely to notice missing. She’s sitting on the first row of some wooden bleachers with other girls, and her legs are sticking out from her little shorts. I carefully fold that, too, making sure the crease doesn’t obscure Olive’s body at all, and tuck it in my back pocket with the panties.

  Looking around the room, I take one last deep breath, trying to imprint her smell in my mind. I reluctantly turn to go, passing by West’s bedroom on the way. I stop. A flare of anger hits me, churning up from my gut as I look into his room. Piece of shit. I want to tear through his things, rip his pictures from the wall, set fire to his bed.

  My hands twitch. I take a calming breath. Patience, I remind myself. I have a plan, and making my presence too obvious now would ruin it. Even putting the sand in their car—that was too much, and came out of rash anger. I’m lucky it didn’t give me away.