“Oh, my Lord,” a woman’s voice gasped. Stormy turned to see two older white women bring their power walk to a complete stop in front of their cottage and stare at Lucas…well, Bubba mostly.
Lucas flicked his hand in lazy greeting. “Hey there, y’all.”
“In the house, Lucas,in the damn house,” Stormy said, attempting to block him from sight as she propelled him inside the house and shut the door.
Big Country stumbled back into the cottage. In his half-dead state, he could barely keep himself upright when Stormy charged at him. He’d never felt like this after sex, not even when he’d binge-fucked multiple women in one night’s time. No, this morning he felt wrung out and lethargic, like he’d truly been drugged—had to crawl out of bed before he could walk kind of drugged, five shots of firewater kind of drugged, Bubba flopping around senseless in his hand as he tried to shake him awake kind of drugged.
Of course, the moment Stormy slammed into him, Bubba acted like a pitiful puppy and lifted his head to get her attention. Lucas was too exhausted to be relieved. Through hooded eyes he watched as Stormy pressed against him, looking worried as she stroked his hair out of his face.
“What’s going on, Lucas, are you all right?”
Like she wasn’t the succubus that had leached a decade’s worth of life from his soul, he thought, pressing his cheek deeper into her touch. He had to be a fool ’cause he was ready to give her another decade to have one more hit, to feel her essence moving inside of him, providing a salve to places he believed long past healed. One more fix and he’d be ready to let her go without reluctance or remorse.
Yeah, that shit wasn’t happening.
“Why were you out there with your titties in full bloom and your ass all…” He spread out his hands, making an air mold of her ass. “I tell you what, if those women had been men gawking at you like that, some shit would’a went down. I ain’t in the mood, Stormy—”
“Lucas, there were no men.”
“–You gon’ mess around and get someone killed, and I mean ‘ain’t-eligible-for-resurrection-or-even-zombie-status’ level dead.”
“Baby, I think you need to go lay back down”
He pulled her in the circle of his arms and held her. “Only if you come with me.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest.
Giving and receiving comfort from women he was sexually intimate with had never been allowed, but it didn’t feel sickening or wrong, it felt damned right, none of that crazy shit that defined his parent’s relationship, but something like what Terry had with Mama, what Zeus had with Sabrina. Maybe this was the woman he was supposed to have something with.
He was about to say something to that effect when his phone rang from the bedroom. The ringtone identified the caller as Merlee.
Big Country pulled out of Stormy’s arms and went to the bedroom, tensing the moment he answered and heard his baby sister crying.
“Shug, tell me what’s wrong.”
He heard the fiancé murmur something in the background.
“It’s okay,” Merlee assured the fiancé. “I need to be the one to tell him.”
Tell me what? What does she need to tell me, and why the fuck is it making her cry?
He should’ve driven directly to Oklahoma. It was selfish, a betrayal of his duty to protect the only blood kin whosejobit was for him to protect, and why, just to have another night with Stormy?
“Talk to me, Merlee.”
“I got a call from Armand early this morning telling me to come to the farm. He said that Will had gotten on PaPere’s bad side and was hurt. We went to the farm…” Big Country closed his eyes. “And Armand took us to the shed and Lucas, Will was beaten half to death.”
The line became muffled and the next voice Big Country heard was the fiancé’s.
“I called 911 before the rest of the family were up. The ambulance took Will to ER and we’re here with him now.”
“Is the old man in jail?”
The fiancé’s silence told Big Country all he needed to know. His father was still out there free to destroy at will, as was the one that had to be responsible for orchestrating the violence.
“Thatbitch,” he said, feeling only disgust for the woman who birthed him. “Sheriff Anderson won’t move against the old man, not as long as Belle Mère’s got him by the balls; that’s how she and the old man get away with all the shit they’ve done since I was a kid, threats, violence, blackmail.”
“I should never have left Will there on his own,” Merlee said, back on speaker.
