Page 59 of His Old Lady

Chapter 20

Curley

On his second cigarette, Curley stared out at the quiet street. While his body remained relaxed after having sex with Faye, his mind tormented him. He couldn't walk back inside the house—Grandma June's place.

He'd respected the woman who'd taken Faye in when Walker was sent to prison. Grandma June had done her best to raise her grandchild. Inside, he was reminded of how innocent Faye had been the day he'd brought her here and had to leave, promising he'd be back.

How was he supposed to explain to a child that the world was unfair, and it was only going to get worse as she grew up?

He stubbed the cigarette out and made no move to leave. Out of all the shit he'd done in his lifetime, fucking Faye was the one he regretted.

And the one thing he prized above all else.

He'd tried everything to rid himself of the guilt. There were jags in his life when he'd tried to find relief in the bottom of a bottle. He'd used other women, trying to erase Faye from his memories and, in return, imagined the girls were Faye—only tormenting him more.

Hell, he always knew his relationship with her would turn out the way it had, with him in her bed. That's why he'd refused to let her go. It wasn't the fear of repercussions from the club. He'd go through any punishment, even banishment, for her.

He just couldn't let her go.

He also knew if she found out his part in Walker going to prison, she'd end up hating him.

The front door of the house opened. He knew she would come out if he lingered. She never ventured far from him, and he'd counted on her to honor their relationship—for how unfair it was to her.

"I'm going to lock the door and go to sleep."

"Don't," he said.

He had to explain himself, and yet he had no idea where to start.

"You don't need me out here to see you ride away," she said.

He shifted, leaning his shoulder against the house so that he could see her. She'd put on a robe, and her hair was wet. It hadn't taken her long to wash him off her body.

"Faye..." He exhaled harshly. "I'm—"

"Don't you dare apologize." She pulled her robe tighter and crossed her arms. "I'm not a child. I never coaxed you into sleeping with me, and you weren't drunk. Don't make excuses this time."

He flinched. Would he ever be able to make the past up to her? Would he ever be able to let go of what he'd done?

"I thought this time it was different." Her voice broke. "Go in front of Priest and the others and let them know I'm no longer your woman. I can't keep living like this. You give me you, and then you go away."

"You were right there with me, taking my cock, moaning my name," he said.

"Of course, I was. It's no secret that I've always wanted you. God, Curley. Everyone around us can see how I feel about you," she blurted.

"You shouldn't."

"If you would stop being such an asshole, you'd realize there is nothing wrong with how we feel about each other." She sighed. "And once again, you've left me feeling pathetic and ashamed about my feelings. I'm tired of living this way. I rather you split and go through whatever it is you need to do to get rid of me."

"You're mine." He searched in his vest pocket for his smokes, wishing he was cuddled up with a whiskey bottle at home. "I'm not giving you up."

"Why?"

He straightened and stepped in front of her. Close enough, the fresh scent clinging to her after her shower hardened his cock again.

"That's my business." He hooked her neck, dragged her to him, and captured her mouth.

Her lips softened, and she took his tongue before she squirmed and clamped her teeth together. He held her close and repeated, "You're mine."

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