Keep It Sexy (KIS Series Book 3) Page 7

  “All right, enough—” she started, but I interrupted.

  “Yeah, man, I know who you are,” I said. “But you don’t get to come to my house and start shit, unless you’re looking for an ass kicking.” The three pushed back from the stools, causing them to fall.

  “Enough!” Billie yelled with her small arms stretched out between the three and me. “Lincoln, get the fuck out of here, or so help me God.” The blond looked at Billie with intensity in his eyes and then glared at me as if to tell me we were in a rivalry. With the muscles of my jaw moving, I nodded slightly. The look on my face said, bring it on.

  “Your da wants you over the house for dinner,” he said to Billie. She exhaled heavily.

  “Fine, I’ll be there tomo—”

  “Tonight, Bil.” The one in the middle with a funky haircut had spoken. “After your shift.” He looked at me apologetically but I thought I had imagined it because it was gone in a matter of seconds. His stare lingered a little on me, like he thought he knew me, but wasn’t sure. And we had met before, a long time ago. It almost felt like a lifetime ago. When I wasn’t known by my real name, but by something else.

  “All right, I’ll be there. Now leave.” The two who talked shit gave me a knowing smirk before they left. Billie rushed over to the dining area and picked up the fallen bar stools.

  “Chris, I’m so sorry. They’re assholes and—”

  “It’s okay, Billie, really. I can handle myself. It’s not your fault,” I said, jumping over the slab of wood.

  “Yes, it is. I knew this would—”

  “Hey,” I said, taking the stool from her hand and setting it down. Softly I moved my knuckles along the side of her face. Billie’s eyes fluttered shut as she moved her face closer to me, melting against my touch. My heart began to speed. I felt its power colliding against my rib cage. I looked down, suddenly becoming mesmerized by the defined curve of her top lip. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t noticed it before. I wanted to kiss her so badly, but thought against it. Instead I…hugged her. Fucking idiot.

  Billie gasped in surprise. Her hands hung like limp noodles at her sides before a beat passed and she finally hugged me back. She patted my back awkwardly before I pushed back, feeling like a fool.

  “Um, so, are they your relatives?”

  She smiled a little teasing smile. “You’re really bad at this.”

  I groaned, scratching my neck. “I know. I feel like I’m thirteen and just discovered the opposite sex around you.”

  She giggled. “Why?”

  “Fuck if I know.” I grinned, and I knew my dimples appeared because she gave me those eyes every girl gets when they see them. But with Billie it was different. I liked the way she was looking at me. With the others, I was doing it for my benefit, but with her I liked the reaction my smile gave her.

  “To answer your question, yes, the bald big-mouthed one is Donnie, the younger of my two older brothers. And the other one, the one that could be a tiny bit more reasonable, is Lincoln.” She grunted, then moved on to pick up the rest of the stools. I bent down to pick up the last one.

  “Is the Irish one your boyfriend?” The thought of her having someone hadn’t crossed my mind until now. I felt an invisible grip around my throat. It was smothering, maddening. Billie didn’t bother to look at me as she pushed the stool under the bar.

  “Ex. We broke up a long time ago.”

  “Does he know that?” I grunted.

  “Yeah, he knows. He just has it in his head that we’ll end up together in the end.” She looked up, her lips thinned out. The chokehold was back, but now the tightness had traveled down to my chest. I jumped on the bar, swinging my legs as I sat while I tried to shake the feeling.

  “How did you meet?” I asked.

  Billie grimaced. “Our dads were best friends growing up.” She shifted so she was in front of me with two feet of distance between us. “His dad got into some trouble and shipped Connor over here when he was twelve. He’s lived at my father’s house ever since.”

  “So you’re Irish?” I asked, not wanting to hear about Connor anymore. Her lips curled up, amused, like she knew what I was doing.

  “Aye, half,” she said with an Irish accent. “My ma was born here.” She chuckled when she saw the awe on my face. “And what about your family? You’ve gotten an earful tonight about mine. Tell me about yours.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  I jumped off the bar and leaned against it, mirroring her stance. I told her how my parents had moved to Colorado from Mexico before I was born, and my mother had been pregnant with me when they crossed the border. Roman was two, and my parents’ marriage was already on the rocks. Soon after I was born my dad started stepping out on my mom and spending our money. When she caught him trying to steal the last of our money she was going to use to feed us, she kicked him out. I was three. I don’t remember him at all, but Roman does. He remembers a lot of things that I don’t.

  Billie stood there listening to me so intently that I imagined she was burning every single word to memory. When our conversation shifted back into her life and her brothers, we ended up sitting back down. When it came to her dad she spoke sparsely about him and made sure not to discuss specifics. I noticed that right away. I wasn’t surprised, though; she was trained never to reveal anything that could incriminate herself or her family. In a way, I was disappointed, but then I remembered how I had been in the same position once.

  Three years ago

  “Chris, I need your help.”

  I was lying on my bed smoking a blunt, listening to music, when Roman came rushing through my door. From the orange glow of the streetlight spilling through my window, I could tell he was panting and sweating, a bloody cut on his lip. I pushed off my bed, turning on the light to see the damage. It was worse than I thought. Half his face was swollen. I could see half a shoe print on the side of his forehead where it had already started to bruise and his left ear blossomed like a cauliflower as it spewed blood.

  “What the fuck happened?”

  “I gotta do good by Marquis,” he said, stepping inside my room and sitting on the corner of my bed. He walked with a limp. I was afraid to ask what else they had done to him.

  “What do you mean? Why would you need to?”

  Roman looked down, ashamed. He tried to close his eyes, but winced.

  “I’m slinging for him.” The air left my lungs, and I instantly feared for our mother. Marquis was a top dog around here. He dealt large amounts of crack and cocaine. He didn’t bother messing with weed. I heard he was worried marijuana would become legalized in Colorado, so he preferred selling the hard stuff. Roman and I capitalized on that and started up our own little business. I didn’t even bother asking Rome why he did it. Money was a hell of a temptress and so was that type of lifestyle.

  “How much you owe him?” I was putting the pieces together.

  “In pesos?”

  “Oh, now you’re making jokes? What the fuck were you thinking, Rome? Did you ever think of mom when you were shaking hands with the devil?”

  Roman stayed quiet.

  “How much?” I asked again.

  “Twenty stacks.”

  “Fuck.” I walked to the opposite wall of my room, and rested my forehead against it, trying my best not to add on to the beating Roman took.

  There was only one other way I knew how to get that much money in a short amount of time. We knew a cat who would take stolen cars and resell them. Stealing cars wasn’t my forte, but I knew enough to take one. I pushed off the wall then started fumbling through my drawers, grabbing a couple of black sweatshirts and sweats. “Go get your gloves,” I ordered my older brother. He didn’t respond, just went to the living room closet to grab his stuff. Quickly, I slipped on my clothes, sliding the gloves over my hands. Then I called Ratchet.

  “Christian Rrrrodriguez, I think it’s been years since we’ve spoken.” His voice was higher pitched than most men.

  “You in need of a ride?” I asked.
He giggled, making a noise one would make after seeing something good to eat.

  “I like a man who gets right to the point. I’m actually dying to get my pretty little fingers on some nice, long, hard American muscle.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Like what?”

  “A Tesla.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Teslas were the newest toy in the playground; everybody wanted one, but they were hard to steal. With my novice experience, I wasn’t going to risk getting caught trying to break into one of those. Ratchet giggled again.

  “I know, young lover, those things are tighter to get into than a midget’s pussy. Tell ya what. Since you’re my favorite of the Rodriguez boys, I’ll settle for an Escalade.”

  I huffed in relief. That, I could do. “Color?”

  “Surprise me, baby.” He hung up. I marched into the small living room as Roman emerged from the bathroom.

  “You good?” I asked, eyeing his face. Even with a black and blue face, he looked pale.

  “Yeah.” We locked up the apartment, jogging down the stairs, out into the front lawn of the building. I took a quick look over at Ava’s apartment. Her bedroom light was on and I wondered who she had in her bed tonight. Once we were inside my truck, I drove out of Aurora and into Denver.

  “We need an Escalade,” I told Roman.

  He stayed quiet, but looked around as we entered Cherry Hill Village, an upper class neighborhood in Denver. I drove around for a few hours. I was starting to think we weren’t going to find one until suddenly someone drove a silver Escalade up a driveway and parked. The man getting out was in a business suit, his tie loose and his hair disheveled. He slammed the door closed, then rubbed his face in frustration.

  I felt bad for him, but then looked at my brother and that faded away. We waited for another hour before I drove away and parked my truck a distance from the house. Without saying a word to one another, we left the car and silently jogged into the night, keeping away from the streetlights as we headed to the house with the Escalade. Rome stood guard because at this point he could barely keep up with me and was pretty much useless.

  I managed to get the door open without sounding off the alarm. My hands became sweaty, causing me to accidentally drop the putty knife I was using to wedge the window open. The metal seemed to echo loudly in the yard. I watched as the knife rolled down the driveway a few feet before stopping. I stilled, waiting for someone to come outside, but it stayed silent. Only the fading noises of cars driving blocks away from us. I heard the dragging of Roman’s feet against the concrete as he shuffled toward me.

  “We gotta go!” he yelled.

  I stood with the knife in my hands. Roman scrambled inside the car, started it, and took off. I tried to run after him, but he sped faster, losing control. I watched, horrified, as he swerved right to left before crashing into a metal pole. I stopped for a brief second before taking off again in his direction. The car looked like a tin can crushed against metal. The hood was arched as steam spewed upward. I jerked the door open, looking frantically at my brother to make sure he was still alive.

  “Rome? Roman?” I cried. His bloody hand curled over mine.

  “Take this,” he said, hardly breathing. I heard the faint sirens of police cars.

  “No, man, come on. I’m getting you out.” I pulled on his body, but stopped after he cried out.

  “No! Chris…you have to take this…and get the fuck out of here.” Roman produced a plastic baggie filled with white powder. Son of a bitch. My teeth gritted as I glared up at my brother. He looked down again. “Go.”

  We heard the sirens growing louder. I shook my head, gripping the baggie, and took off in the direction of my truck. Inside, I was furious. How dare he put our mother in danger, all for the name of greed? He was willing to risk our freedom because he figured we’d sell the Escalade to Ratchet, pay off his debt to Marquis, then pocket the money from the coke he’d stolen. He probably wanted to start his own coke business. He was playing me all along.

  In a rage, I punched the steering wheel until it cracked and my knuckles split open. I drove in a daze to Marquis’s empty crack house where he ran his business. One of the two guard men who stood outside the front door nodded in greeting before letting me in.

  Marquis sat at a table playing a card game with three other guys. Surveying a front window was another man with an AK in his hands, and another right next to the door.

  “What’s up, man?” Marquis asked, taking a puff from his roach. I took the baggie out of my pocket and set it on the table. Everyone looked at me, confused.

  “I’m making good on Roman’s debt,” I explained. Marquis grunted while taking another drag.

  “So I see.” He leaned back on his chair. “But your brother not only stole from me, he kept a lot of my customers waiting for my product.”

  “Right, and he got an ass kicking for it. Now you have your product back. All is good.” I turned to leave, but stopped when one of the men stepped in front of me, brandishing a rifle.

  “Come on, Christian, we both know it doesn’t work like that.”

  I turned back around to look at him. His eyes were lifeless and his smile was everything nightmares were made of. I pulled off my hoodie, setting it on the floor along with my keys and cell phone.

  “All right, man, you do what you gotta do. But I’m not going down without a fight.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Billie

  Christian walked me to my bike when we closed, and after an awkward wave goodbye he jumped inside his SUV while I geared up. I saluted him when I pulled out of the parking lot, turning left as he turned right. I made it to Harden in ten minutes flat. The streets were dark, but I knew my way around like it was a map carved in my brain. It was two-thirty in the morning and I was running on fumes. I was exhausted, but I also knew Don wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.

  I parked the bike outside the small bricked home, not bothering to take off my gear, only my helmet. The wooden door was open and only the screen door closed. From the outside I could see through the house as my dad, brothers, and Connor laughed and played cards around the small plastic circular table. I let myself in, setting my things right outside the door. Don was the first to turn to see me. He stood suddenly, holding my stare and smiled like he had found his way home. My heart instantly squeezed with sensations I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was like I was little again and he was my daddy, not a criminal mastermind.

  “My wee girl.” His voice was always rough and it vibrated through my chest. He stepped to me like he was going to hug me, something we hadn’t done since I was that little girl, but he thought against it and dropped his arms. We stood there for a few awkward seconds before LCD entered the small living room.

  “You actually came.” Lincoln spoke first.

  “I told you I would.” We all shifted uncomfortably for a few silent moments.

  “Are you hungry?” Don asked.

  “No, thank you. I had dinner at work.”

  Donnie scoffed, shifting his hands over his crooked smile. “Yeah, I bet her belly’s full, thanks to that wetback.” I felt my skin begin to prickle with anger. I was used to his crude comments but his racial slurs were something new.

  “What the fuck is your problem? Since when do you use those words?”

  Donnie dropped his hands and glared at me. “Since they started taking over Harden.”

  “Please, Donnie, we’re two feet away from Denver. It’s one of the most diverse cities in Colorado.”

  “Yeah, you would know.”

  Yeah, great comeback. I grunted, directing my attention back to Don. Donnie wasn’t worth my energy.

  “I came, Da. What did you need to talk about?”

  Don stretched his hand, silently asking me to sit down. When my back was to them, I heard a smack behind me. Don had backhanded Donnie. Once they were all sitting, they picked up where they’d left off, and I sat watching them for a while. They would never ask me to play because I cou
ld kick their asses with my eyes closed.

  “You took all of that boy’s money?” Don asked, referring to Joey.

  “Yup. He owed me.”

  He placed his cards on the table. “I just wanted to see you, Billie. I missed you. We missed you.” I didn’t miss Donnie trying to hide his grunt, clearly disagreeing with our father.

  “Really? Was that what the visit to Jade’s house and my job was about? Because you missed me?”

  Don looked confused, then glared at the guys. “What did you three do?”

  “Nothing, boss, we just wanted to visit Billie,” Connor answered. “It was a friendly visit.”

  “It doesn’t happen again, understand?” He pointed directly at Lincoln. Linc lifted his hands in defeat.

  “Yes, sir.” Something felt off. I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t feel like Don had control over his crew anymore, and it made me wonder which one was trying to replace him. Which of the three wanted to overthrow the king? I left shortly after that, crashing on my bed with a strange feeling settling in my stomach.

  The sky was murky and thick with moisture. I felt the heaviness all around me as the lightning struck the heavens, illuminating the rain filled clouds. They stirred rapidly above me, the wind jerking them back and forth. I was mesmerized by their movement. It felt…unnatural.

  Lightning struck again, followed by the loud rumbling noise of thunder. This time the light remained and I was finally able to see my surroundings. I stood in the middle of a dirt road with endless green pastures on each side and a great willow tree to my left. It was bare with its dried up leaves circling it like a halo. I shivered at the sight, suddenly cold. I looked down at my tattered jeans and scraps of a shirt that barely hung over my shoulders.

  There was a small blast behind me with the smell of burning rubber. I turned my head, looking over my shoulder to find my Frog on its side in flames as the back tire still spun. A small part of me wanted to turn around, but I was pulled forward, something yanking on my wrists. Glancing down, I saw and felt metal shackles biting at my skin. The chain attached to my cuffs ran miles away from me.