Page 14 of Quiet Chaos

My name falling from her lips squeezes my chest and triggers my dick to push against my jeans. I don’t answer. I concentrate on eating, pressing my palm into my crotch, and shifting it to the side.

When we’re done, she helps clean up, and then we retire to our rooms. Armstrong runs up the stairs and I call for him. He ignores me, so I follow as he makes his way into her room and onto the bed. She’s laying on one side and he’s on the other. I call him again, but nothing.

“It’s okay. He can sleep with me.” She hugs him. “He makes me feel safe.”

I close the door to her room and let out several curse words. Fucking dog has it better than I do. I’m unable to fall asleep right away as I picture Sky in my T-shirt. My hand grabs my cock, and I stroke it, trying to rub the image away when I cum. Even after my release, it takes a while before I succumb to sleep.

7

“Whoever is generous to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will repay him for his deed.” Proverbs 19:17

Sky - September 2019

I wake to Armstrong’s head next to mine on the pillow. His eyes open and his tongue licks me from chin to nose. He’s adorable. I laugh, kiss his snout, and take care of business in the washroom.

The smell of food has me heading down the stairs, where I find Cade shirtless. My hand shoots to the side of my head as a visor to avoid his half-naked body. It’s shocking. Christoff didn’t walk around shirtless, and I always changed in another room. I offer a good morning and shuffle over to the table, sitting in a chair facing away from him. Unfortunately, there’s wall to ceiling windows spread across the kitchen, reflecting his body, so I admire the outdoor view.

There’s a large seating area of couches and chairs to the left, and a pool to the right. I smile at the pool. I’ve never been in one. The porch extends out far and is lined by a wood fence, but I notice a small dock. His property is right on a lake, and it’s a wonder with the landscape of towering trees and flower beds. Maybe it’s Bear Lake.

Cade’s waist comes into my peripheral vision, and I hold my breath. Muscles shaped into a V aim downwards and redden my cheeks. He places food in front of me as I thank him. I wait untilhe’s seated and bow my head in prayer. When I’m done, I find him motionless, his eyes locked on me.

Offering a smile, I shift my eyes downward, and he returns to eating. My eyes glance sideways, catching glimpses of his body. It’s dense with muscles that dip and rise like the nearby mountains, but his markings are sin. Cade has tattoos from the upper mid-chest and mid-back down his left arm to his hand. It makes me think of Leviticus,you shall not make any cuts on your body for the dead or tattoo yourselves: I am the Lord.

A brand tattoo is on the left side of his chest, and from shoulder to wrist are feathers. It’s like half an angel’s wing. There’s a woman’s name, Christine circling his wrist. She must be important for him to mark his body with hers.

“It’s rude to stare.”

Clueless that I’ve been gawking at him, my eyes meet his, and he has a shifty smile on the right side of his mouth. My face warms. I blink and apologize.

Someone walks into the house, cutting off the long silence as Armstrong heads toward the door. I realize I only have Cade’s T-shirt on, so I pull it over my legs. I don’t care if I resemble a squished bug inside a napkin.

A woman and man walk into the kitchen. The woman takes the chair next to me and I give her a small smile.

She hands me a pair of sweats and says, “Hi. I’m Patsy.” She turns to the man. “This is my Old Man, Reed. We’re close friends of Cade’s.”

I offer my hand and say, “I’m Sky.” Then I gesture to Reed. “He doesn’t look old to me.” They all laugh as I press the sweats closer to cover another embarrassing moment of not understanding what they mean.

Patsy responds, “That’s what we’re referred to in the club. The club members also refer to him as Boo.”

Confusion and embarrassment mar my face. “What kind of club?”

Patsy glances at Cade and Reed, and says, “It’s a motorcycle club.”

It clicks as I nod my head, saying, “Yes, Cade has a nice bike. I guess everyone needs a motorcycle to be in the club.”

“Something like that.” She pauses and asks, “Would you like to put the sweats on?”

“Yes, please.” I wear a pained expression while my eyes wander to Cade and Reed.

Patsy catches on and shakes her head. “Sorry.” She turns to the men. “Could you guys give us a minute?”

They leave. Still hidden under the shirt, I pull on the pants and toss the sweatshirt over Cade’s T-shirt. Patsy is attentive. I like her and her fiery red hair. Yellow circles her pupils, casting her hazel eyes in warmth. I can see us becoming friends.

The guys return. Cade cleans up the breakfast dishes as Reed settles at the table. They’re watching me, so I duck my head lower. I’m not sure why. It reminds me of how I inspected a host the first time the sisters introduced the Body of Christ to me. The host appeared ordinary, while it had so much meaning. Maybe that’s how they see me, ordinary mixed with some significance?

Patsy rubs my hand to get my attention. “We don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Cade told us your boyfriend beat you. Did he do anything else?” Her voice decreases. “Like sexually—”

“Oh no, Ms. Patsy! I’m still pure.” She lets out a snicker while Cade drops a glass, swearing under his breath. They laugh at him and turn back to me.

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