Page 81 of Property of Player

“Chased him out of the house with my grandma’s iron skillet. He didn’t come home for two weeks. That was the last time that man ever brought a bag of anything home.”

About an hour later, we’re all sitting at the dining room table. I look around at the strange group, all sharing a meal. Three prospects, Cici, me, and Mama Pearl, who rules the roost at a seat at the head of the table.

After the meal, I’m amazed when those boys stand and not only carry their plates to the sink but clear the table of all the serving dishes.

Once they move out the swinging doors, Mama Pearl catches our stunned expressions and winks. “I got ‘em trained. Gotta catch ‘em when they’re prospects, ‘cause once they get that patch, they think they run the world. Not at my table, they don’t. Not if they want to eat.”

“God love you, Mama Pearl,” I say.

She cocks her head at me. “So, you and Player, huh? You back for good?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“I hope so, doll. I love that boy to death, and he’s been through the wringer. You, too, Cici. Y’all have. But that’s life. Sometimes we just have to steel our spine and go on livin’ no matter what.” She points a finger at each of us. “We’ve all got a purpose on this earth. All of you do.”

“Do you miss your man, Mama Pearl?” I ask.

“Someday I’ll see him again. When God calls me home, he’ll be waiting for me.” She stands. “But I ain’t dead yet. Come on, young’uns, there are dishes to wash.”

Chapter twenty-three

Molly

Crumpling the wrapper from the Mr. Clucky Bucket chicken place, I toss it on the floor of my car and keep rolling through town.

It’s been three days since the day I was fucking Sleaze and saw Cici at the club. I don’t know where she went, but she’s not at the beach house. I’ve been by there several times, and no one has been there since the club pulled out.

She must be staying with friends or family, but I have no clue where that may be.

Duck has been giving me hell, and I know he won’t wait any longer. He wants Cici, and he wants her before the club returns.

Unfortunately, she stopped returning my texts.

How the hell am I supposed to make it happen when I don’t know where the little bitch is?

Turning the wheel, I head to the beach one last time, but there’s no car in the drive, and the place is still quiet, so I make another buzz through town, hoping to see her car.

After an hour of wasted gas, I decide to go to the clubhouse and see if I can get any information out of Sleaze. He’s pretty closed-mouthed about club business, but I’ve played up the fact that Cici and I are buddy-buddy. I can tell Sleaze doesn’t give a damn and barely pays attention. My only use to him is sex, and I know it, but right now, he’s my only in at the clubhouse.

When I pull up, there are three bikes parked out front, just like last time. Sleaze’s red chopper, Billy Jack’s sleek black one, and the gray one that belongs to Booze. I don’t know him too well. He’s like Sleaze—not much of a talker, but with eyes that miss nothing.

I stroll up to the door, but when I pull on the handle, it won’t budge. I bang my palm on the steel. There’s music blasting, and I wonder if they can hear me.

My eyes hit the cameras mounted up high, and I know if they are paying attention, they can see me out here.

A moment later, the door opens and Sleaze’s big body fills the space. He leans against the frame.

“What do you want?”

“I came to have a drink with you, handsome.”

“Now’s not a good time, Molly.”

“Just one little one.” I walk my fingers up his chest.

He grabs my wrist and shoves it away. “We’re on lockdown. Can’t have any fun today, babe.”

“Why not?” I crane my neck to see beyond him and spot Taylor and Cici at the bar. “Why are they here?”