Page 20 of Playboy’s Purgatory

“I never knew my mom,” I start, my words halting and almost discordant. “I’ve heard stories about her. She was like Lola. At least, when I met Lola that’s what I thought. She reminded me of the stories about my mom.”

A look of understanding crosses Vanessa’s face, one someone so young should not be able to make. But she does. She reaches out and gives my arm a squeeze as if to let me know I don’t have to say anything else.

I won’t. Not because the words wouldn’t be true but because I’m not entirely sure where the line is between sharing and way too fucking much oversharing is in this situation. I’m prone to oversharing as it is; I don’t need the temptation.

“By being a friend to Lola, I was trying to be a friend to my mom. Does that make sense?” I’m not asking just to check her understanding, but because I need to know the answer.

Does it make sense?

“Yeah,” Vanessa breathes out. “You’re going to need more than a coloring book to get in Mom’s good graces,” she warns me. “Start with the sob story, she’s a softie even if she doesn’t seem like it.”

The look she gives me is pointed and I swallow hard.

“Seems like she’s got your number,” my father’s rumble comes from behind us, and I almost fall off the damn bench I’m sitting on.

Vanessa points at me and laughs so hard she’s slapping her knee and almost falls off as well. I catch her and right her, something settling inside me when she doesn’t flinch. She gasps out, “Did you see his face?”

“I scared him good, didn’t I?” Dad drawls with a huge grin on his face. When he glances at me, something cold flashes in his eyes and I wince.

“Are you the one he’s afraid will kick his butt?” Vanessa asks innocently.

Rumble’s chuckle is hearty as he nods. “And he’s right to be afraid,” he tells her. There might be amusement on his face, but his words are a promise.

“Don’t be too hard on him,” Vanessa advises. “Lola is really good at what she does. Grifter? I looked it up on my tablet one day.”

Speaking of Lola. I look around, but I don’t see her.

“She slinked away about the time you incorrectly mentioned Mom being pregnant with me,” Vanessa pipes in knowingly. “I’m sure she’s afraid of the fall-out. She knows when to scatter, kind of like a cockroach.”

Yeah, that sounds about right. The club is going to have some real conversations about her. I’m going to be in the hotseat for every single one.

“Oh fuck,” I hear someone spurt out, “I was just taking a drink.”

I almost roll my eyes because my brothers are so fucking nosey. They’re probably salivating over the drama.

“There’s no excuse for him talking to anyone the way he did, especially a lady,” Rumble’s voice is serious.

“True enough,” Vanessa agrees. “But he was kind of like a puppet. The kind with the strings?” She scrunches her face and looks up expectantly at Rumble and me.

“A marionette,” I offer.

She points at me and exclaims, “That’s it. I’m not spelling it though.” She crosses her arms across her chest, the action final and full of sass.

“I don’t want to spell it either,” Dad agrees. He settles down on the seat on the other side of her.

Vanessa looks at the patch where his road name is and she laughs. “Is your nickname Rumble because your voice is a rumble?”

“It’s a road name,” he gently corrects her and she nods once like she’s filed the information away properly, “and yes.”

She looks at me and eyes my name patch with wariness, but she doesn’t ask. Thankfully.

My road name was given for obvious reasons and I earned it honestly. Lola has been the exception, not the rule.

And then there’s Lara. I’ve had dreams about Lara and I haven’t told a damn soul about them.

Dreams where she was naked and writhing underneath me with sugar coating her skin and my name on her lips. She’s sexy as hell and the fire that flashes in her eyes whenever she’s giving me attitude makes me want to pin her to a wall and fuck her until she doesn’t remember how to talk back.

I shift on the bench and clear my throat, forcing my focus back to the present. Vanessa is giving my dad her entire attention, but I can see the wheels turning in her head.