“Nobody. I don’t want them to see me as weak or give me special treatment. I’m a prospect. I have to earn my place and I can’t do that if they know.” She shrugs as though it’s no big deal, and I’m positive that’s the most sentences in a row she has ever strung together.
“Caidy, breast cancer isn’t you being weak. If anything, it’ll make you stronger because it takes more than a physical toll on you.” I would know, my mom had it when I was seven, but she didn’t catch hers in time, which is how I came to be brought upby my gran. “You can’t brush over living through something like that so lightly. But if you want to keep it a secret, I’ll help.” Of course I will. Although, it’ll be difficult to keep this from Mac with her nosey tendencies. “You can stay at my place for a couple of weeks after the surgery. And have sleepovers when you have chemo.”
She huffs a laugh. “You scold me then offer to be my accomplice. And this is why we’re friends.” She lowers her eyes to her hands resting on her knees. “I’ll tell Prez.” Lifting her head, she sets her gaze on me again with a stare that could kill. “But don’t you fucking dare tell Mac or I’ll put your balls on a string and give it to Pepper. She can’t keep a secret from her husband to save her life, then it’ll spread like wildfire.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I chuckle, only half taking her threat seriously because I don’t doubt her capability of following through. “Breakfast?”
“Grits?”
We both stand.
“Yup. And Sledge’s new sister’s here, so we have some morning entertainment too.”
Chapter Twelve
Parker
“How long have you been in the States?”
Knowing what I do about these lawless motorcycle clubs in the US, I imagined the club president would be an angry motherfucker with a permanent scowl. I was wrong because Hoops, the Sons of Khaos president, is the most polite American I have ever met. And his posture…? Pfft, he could give royalty a run for their money.
“About six months. Took me a while to get all my paperwork in order, which was a lot easier thanks to the guy my dad used to work for. It was actually him who helped me track down my big bro.” I stop talking and shrug, afraid I’m about to word vomit my life story—which he clearly isn’t asking for.
“Big bro. That shit’s weird as fuck.” Sledge sits on the sofa beside me, setting the tray of hot drinks on the table central to this seating area.
With Hoops in the armchair, it looks like he’s residing over his court from his throne. Ha. King Hoops…
“Ohmyfuckinggod, is that tea? Real tea?” I look over to Sledge, my eyes wide with excitement as he chuckles.
When we had breakfast an hour or so ago, I was disappointed in the lack of tea, resigned to the fact that they just don’t have it here. But now? Well…fucking yum.
“Sure is. The good stuff too. Sabrina keeps the kitchen stocked up for us.” He picks up one of the mugs and passes it to me. “She’s a good girl.”
“Is she the one who doesn’t speak? I thought you all had Stiffler’s mom up in here when I first saw her. She’s a fucking goddess.” Just like the woman from the movieAmerican Pie, her long blonde waves are bouncier than her ample breasts.
Hoops laughs. “That’s her.” Leaning forward, he grabs the mug full of black coffee and I internally cringe. Nope. No way. Black coffee is more bitter than my mum was.
The warmth of the liquid seeps through the mug onto my palms and I breathe in the scent of a real cup of tea. I ran out of my own stash around the same time as I got stabbed.
“Do you play pool?” The question sounds a little awkward, but I take it for what it is…my brother wants to get to know me and I have to hold myself back from hugging him again.
“A little.” No way am I giving away my skillset in that department yet. I want a chance to hustle these fuckers first. All in good fun, of course. I don’t want to turn them all against me.
“Wanna play?” Is this where my big brother thinks he’s about to beat me at our first competition?
Cute…
Game on.
“Sure.” I act as nonchalant as I’m capable of as we both stand, tea in hand, and head toward the pool table.
The bar area is mostly empty because apparently most of these guys have legit jobs and it’s before noon on a Friday. This means the table isn’t being fucked on and the cum stains from the night before are all gone, thanks to the cleaning team that rocked up a short while ago.
“I’ll rack them up.” Sledge sets the balls up in their triangle and places the singular white one at the opposite end. “Wanna break?”
“Flip for it.”
He smirks as he pulls a coin from his pocket, and I think my hustling days are over before they begin because he has that same look in his eye as I know I get.
