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Satan's Property Page 9


  “As long as it’s medicinal,” I smile at him. I gather up the used medical supplies and take them with me down the hall, dumping them in the trash can in the bathroom, then washing my hands again. I walk down to Drifter’s room and hear Kalb scratching at the door as I approach.

  I open the door and he rushes at me, tail wagging so hard his whole body is wiggling. I notice Drifter has put a water and food bowl with kibbles in it in the corner for him. I cross to his dresser as Kalb sniffs me. I open his top dresser drawer and find his pipe, a bag of pot, and a lighter in the corner. I proudly resist the urge to snoop around in his stuff. I kiss softly to Kalb and he follows me out the door, which I pull shut with my foot. I stop in the bathroom and fill up a water glass for Drifter, then walk back down the hallway to my room. I push open the door and Kalb whines with excitement at the sight of his master. He dashes to the bed and sniffs Drifter manically, aware something is off in his smell. He ends up back at his face and Drifter laughs as he licks him.

  “OK, OK,” he says, awkwardly reaching over to pet Kalb’s head with his left arm.

  I put the glass of water and the pot on the bedside table.

  “Let me prop you up a little,” I say. I give him my arm to pull himself up on, and pull the pillow up so it’s against the headrest. He leans back as I hand him the water glass. He downs it eagerly.

  I cross to the foot of the bed and start to unlace his shoes. I catch his eyes and can’t quite read the expression in them. I pull off his sneakers and place them on the floor at the foot of the bed. Kalb settles on the floor, so I sit on the edge of the bed and pick up his pipe. I open the bag of weed and start to pack some in. He watches me with a smile.

  “You look like you’ve done this before, too,” he says.

  “Probably a little too much, actually. Sometimes the silence in the afternoons really gets to me,” I add quietly.

  “So if you went to school, why aren’t you out nursing somewhere?” he asks with a frown.

  “Rooster, my husband, he didn’t think it was such a good idea. He wanted me to stay home,” I reply.

  “Seems like a waste of talent,” he says. I bring my eyes up to his, but they’re unreadable to me—just an expanse of pale blue liquid. I quickly look down at the pipe and finish packing it.

  “Here,” I say, handing it to him. He brings it to his lips. I spark his lighter and hold it for him while he takes a long hit. I put the lighter on the bedside table and stand.

  “I should...” I begin, my heart slamming against my ribcage.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Well...I should sleep in your bed, I think. I mean, I think that would be best,” I say, tracing a circle on the floor with my toes.

  “Stay. Please,” he says, and something in his voice makes me look up. I lock eyes with him and I feel something pass between us. My breath catches in my throat and I find myself nodding. I silently cross over to the foot of the bed and crawl up to him.

  I turn and lean against the pillow next to me, and we silently pass the pipe pack and forth between us, Kalb snoring softly on the floor next to us. For a moment, this crazy place seems safe. Normal. Exactly where I want to be.

  Chapter Eight

  I blink awake at the sunlight streaming through the window, then freeze as I realize where I am. In bed with Drifter, who is still sleeping. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I’m now curled under his left arm, my head resting on his bare shoulder. Still in my clothes from the night before. Oh dear.

  I study the straight line of his nose, trying to block out all the logical thoughts that are threatening to cloud my mind. I just want to concentrate on the pleasure I feel at being curled up by his side. Perhaps my gaze wakes him, because I watch his eyes slowly open and glance down at me.

  His lips break into an easy smile as we stare at each other for half a second, and then he leans down and gently kisses me. Before my brain can caution me against it, I kiss him back. Our mouths open together, and I feel his warm tongue against mine, circling it with a little pressure.

  I bring my hand to his face and run it through the rough stubble on his cheek. He turns and presses his lips into my palm¸ then bites down on the soft pad beside my thumb. I gasp, and he presses his mouth back to mine, kissing me desperately, his tongue gliding against mine.

  I turn onto my side and kiss along his clavicle, working my way up his neck, then his ear. I nibble on his earlobe and he let’s out a little moan. I suddenly feel his hand on my belly, working its way quickly between my underwear and my skirt. I gasp at his touch, aching for him to slide his hand between my legs. He cups my sex with his hand, growling softly.

  “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans.

  I almost unravel at his words as he quickly slips his hand into my panties. I feel two fingers slide over my clit, which is hard and ready for him.

  “Oh...” I moan softly, as he starts to circle my tender nub. Waves of pleasure are rising quickly inside of me, and I let my head fall back, closing my eyes. He pushes two fingers inside of me, and I find myself gasping for air.

  He circles his fingers against my g-spot, teasing me with his slow pace. I feel completely in his power. He is taking me right to the edge and refusing to push me over it. The pleasure has built up to the point of pain. I would do anything for a release.

  “Please, please,” I beg him.

  He gives into my pleas, flexing his fingers against my g-spot as he circles my clit with his thumb. I cry out as he touches me everywhere, toppling over the edge of orgasm. I come against his masterful hand, just like he wanted all along. He cups me gently until my breathing slows. My eyes flutter open and I see him staring at me with both desire and fascination.

  He brings his hand to my mouth and brushes a finger across my lower lip, leaving a taste of my own desire. I watch in shock as he brings his fingers to his own mouth and slowly sucks them clean, licking his lips.

  “You taste just as good as I thought you would,” he says with a smug smile. I blush wildly and smile shyly back, then reach for his fly to return the favor.

  “Drifter!” I hear from the hallway, and snap my hand back. I recognize Cherish’s voice at once.

  “Shit,” I murmur, and quickly scoot off the bottom of the bed. Kalb sits up from the floor, curious.

  “Drifter!” she calls again, closer now. I move to the side of the bed and straighten my skirt.

  “What’s the problem?” Drifter asks with a frown.

  “What’s the problem?” I repeat, incredulous. “I don’t think she’s going to like seeing us—”

  I break off as I see Cherish’s face appear in the window in my door. Her expression shifts quickly from one of confusion to rage when she sees Drifter lying shirtless in my bed.

  “Cherish—” I begin, but she rips open the door and storms in. Kalb moves to stand next to me.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she snarls as she walks up to me and gets in my face.

  In the bed, I see Drifter with his mouth open in shock. To my surprise, anger wells up in my stomach.

  “Are you Drifter’s old lady?” I whisper quietly. My voice sounds like that of a stranger, it’s so full of cold anger.

  Cherish glances between Drifter and me as if searching for the answer. “No,” she finally says, her face falling.

  “Then get out of my room,” I say, my voice hard.

  I see her glance furtively at Drifter again, but my eyes never leave her face. There is a silence, and then she turns and leaves the room. I walk to the door and shut it, the anger draining from my body. I can practically see it pool on the floor at my feet and spill away under the door in her wake.

  I turn around to face Drifter, embarrassment coloring my cheeks. He’s sitting up in bed with his eyebrows raised, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t look angry, at least, though I can’t read his expression. I clear my throat.

  “So, how are you feeling?” I ask.

  “I feel fine,” he says with a gr
in.

  “I meant your cut,” I say, smiling back.

  “Stiff. A little painful,” he admits, slowly moving his shoulder back a bit.

  I cross to the bed and he moves over to make room for me. I lean over him to unwrap the tape and slowly peel the gauze back. The wound is slightly swollen, but not overly red, and the gauze is spotted with a little blood, no pus. I replace it and wrap him back up.

  “Looks good. Minimal swelling, no signs of infection. Don’t get it wet until I say it’s OK, though. I’ll get you some Tylenol for the pain.”

  Kalb places his front paws on the bed and whines pitifully.

  “Guess I better take this one for a walk,” Drifter says, swinging his legs onto the floor. “You coming?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I answer, a little surprised.

  “I’m just gonna grab a shirt from my room. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He leaves, with Kalb trailing him closely.

  I shut the door behind him, then quickly cut out a square off his old shirt and use some tape from the first aid kit to block the window on my door. There. Now no one can see me changing. Or doing anything else.

  I quickly slip out of my outfit from the night before and decide not to wear my baggy clothes again. I pull a more flattering pair of jeans and a simple tank top out of the donated clothes and put them on, then slip on the new sneakers Liz brought me. I run to the bathroom and wipe the extra makeup off my eyes on the way out.

  As I walk downstairs, I wonder what the hell I’m doing. It feels like I’m dating someone. It doesn’t feel like a betrayal to Rooster at all, but what’s happening isn’t in a vacuum. I can’t pretend like I’m not wearing this ankle monitor, and that these bikers couldn’t turn on me in a minute. I’ve only known Drifter for a weekend, and he slept with Cherish just a couple nights ago—at least that’s what she insinuated to Stephanie.

  My stomach knots anxiously as I walk through the kitchen, but my doubts melt away when I spot Drifter already outside, throwing a stick for Kalb. He turns and smiles at me, and I feel butterflies in my stomach. We circle the property several times, and he asks me about nursing. I want to ask him if he’s heard anything about how Rooster’s doing in relation to the club business, but I don’t want to sully our time together by mentioning my husband’s name. Eventually I head inside to start breakfast, and Drifter goes to the garage to talk to Crow. I’m whisking milk into some eggs when Stephanie walks in.

  “Morning,” she says, with a little smile.

  “Morning,” I respond, playing coy. She spots a package of sausages on the counter and opens them. “I’ve got the griddle heating up for those. You want to test the temperature and then melt some butter on it?” She nods and gets a stick of butter out of the fridge.

  “I’m sorry about that guy Bull,” she finally says, “But I heard you had an...interesting night after that.”

  “What exactly did you hear?” I ask.

  “Well, Cherish was crying, saying she found you and Drifter in bed together this morning,” Stephanie replies.

  “Oh, I feel bad about that...I think I was too hard on her.”

  “What do you mean?” she asks.

  “Well, she barged in on us, and I was pretty harsh,” I reply, biting my lip, “But I guess I would have been upset, too if Drifter had slept with me the night before and then I found him in someone else’s bed.”

  “Did you...?” Stephanie begins, eyes wide.

  “No!” I say quickly, “Bull nicked him with a knife pretty good. So, I was just taking care of him.” Well, mostly. “I did get a teensy bit of blood on your shirt, by the way, but I’m going to wash it right out today.”

  “No worries,” she says gamely, and sets about helping me with breakfast.

  I keep my eyes down when Drifter walks through the kitchen, knowing Stephanie is watching me curiously. There are a lot more brothers than usual staying here now because of the party, including some from out of town, though thankfully Bull is nowhere to be seen.

  We spend the rest of the morning cleaning up the clubhouse, which is an absolute mess from last night. We make a quick lunch, and then Stephanie leaves to waitress at a restaurant nearby. I put on my more grungy clothes to clean the bathroom upstairs, which is indescribably gross. Several people clearly couldn’t hold their liquor at the party. It takes me the rest of the afternoon to clean it to a more respectable level, though I’ll have to do more to get it really clean.

  I return to my room to grab my towel and toiletries so I can take a shower before dinner. I spot Cherish’s sneakers in the corner and decide to return them. I walk quietly down the hall and am glad to see her door is closed. I place the sneakers on the floor and turn back toward my room. But the door swings open, and Cherish sticks her head out.

  “Hey,” she says. I wince and turn back to face her.

  “Hi,” I say, bracing myself for her anger.

  “Look,” she says, shifting her weight back and forth on her feet. “I just wanted to apologize for this morning. I’d just heard he was in a fight and was really worried about him, but I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” I return, “I was too hard on you. You’re right, I don’t know what it’s like to be a sweet butt.”

  “Yeah, well, at least I don’t have to wear an ankle monitor,” she says with a smile.

  “There is that,” I say, turning the foot that has the monitor on it. “Well, I better shower so I can get started on dinner. Thanks for letting me borrow your shoes.”

  “Hey,” she says, as I turn to leave. “Just be careful. He makes a lot of promises.”

  I nod and hurry back down the hall for my towel and get in the shower. I’m glad to not have to tiptoe around Cherish anymore, but her warning does make me nervous. Well, I guess I should be nervous. It would be incredibly dumb of me to get involved with Drifter. I resolve again to just be friends with him, no matter how hot he is.

  I cook spaghetti for dinner, and my mind is quieted by all the repetitive chopping and the smells of the sauce. I again pointedly ignore Drifter when I see him, though Kalb comes over to me for attention. After I’ve cleaned everything up, I head upstairs to bed. I wish I had a book or something to read, but at least the physical work tires me out a lot, so hopefully I’ll get to sleep quickly.

  Wishful thinking.

  I’m still lying in bed awake an hour and a half later. My mind drifts to Scout, and I worriedly picture him tied up in the backyard, dehydrating in the hot sun. Who knows if Rooster is taking good care of him? Or caring for him at all? Will I ever be able to get out of here and see him again?

  I hear slow footsteps in the hallway approaching my bedroom. A shadow appears under my door, backlit by the light in the hallway. I hear a soft knock and my heartbeat kicks up.

  “It’s Drifter,” a voice says quietly. I get out of bed and walk toward the door and lean against it. “You going to open the door?”

  “No,” I say. It’s painful to refuse him, but it’s for the best.

  “No?” he repeats. I hear disbelief in his voice. I can’t imagine he’s used to getting turned down.

  “This is a bad idea. We both know that.”

  I hear him sigh outside the door, and then after a long silence his shadow disappears. I feel myself tear up and try to push my sadness down. I wonder if he’s going to Cherish now.

  I crawl back into bed and cry myself to sleep. Just like old times with Rooster. I know I’ve been wishing to feel at home here, but this is not exactly what I had in mind.

  Chapter Nine

  I wake up before my alarm again. Shit. I had trouble falling asleep last night and I’m tired, but I can’t manage to force myself back to sleep.

  I throw on my jeans, tank top, and sneakers. I take a look out the window, and feel my stomach leap a little when I see Drifter and Kalb out back. It looks like they’re waiting. I hustle out of my bedroom and head downstairs. I mean, we’re in no danger of getting physical at 7 in the morning right? I ha
ven’t even brushed my teeth.

  As I exit the kitchen, Kalb runs up to me, wagging his tail. I get a more placid nod from Drifter, and we start off.

  This becomes our morning routine for the next two weeks. Get up early and have a morning walk before anyone else is up. I’ve awoken to someone’s shadow outside my door a couple nights, and I think it’s Drifter’s, but he hasn’t knocked again. I see Cherish hanging off him sometimes, so I think they’ve started sleeping together again.

  Two weekends later, I wake up to find that I know where I am immediately. This weird life has become regular to me, like I’ve always lived like this. I’ve even started hanging out with some of the brothers in the lounge after dinner, just watching TV and shooting the shit a little. I feel like they’re starting to treat me almost as one of their own.

  Drifter’s wound is healing into a nice scar. I make sure to check on it only during the day in the lounge so that I won’t be alone with him when he has his shirt off again. I only have so much self-control. I removed the stitches last week, and he says there’s no pain at all now.

  The brothers are having a backyard barbecue today to celebrate a successful run. A small family thing, not like Drifter’s welcome home party. I make a breakfast casserole with egg, ham, and potatoes that I found in one of the cookbooks Liz lent me.

  As the brothers start filing into the lounge, I screw up my courage to talk to Flint. I spot him walking in with Crow, and I clear my throat as they pass through the kitchen. They glance up at me.

  “Um, Flint,” I say, “Could I talk to you for a second?”

  Flint nods at Crow, who continues on. Flint turns to me expectantly.

  “I was just wondering, do you have any news on Rooster?” I ask, ‘How’s he doing and all?”

  “Look, Violet,” Flint says, “I know you’re worried about him, but it’s going to take some time for him to gain our trust.”