Page 26 of Sparrow

Make no mistake, every man had his stupid moments. There wasn’t a perfect brother out there. Hell, he remembered when his dad had done quite a few stupid things that’d had Romeo’s mother spitting nails mad at him. Another reason not to bring an outsider into their world, it just wasn’t for them.

“You think it’s better to have a woman who already knows the life?” he asked his father, feeling like he’d been set up for this question.

His father cut his eyes toward his son. He held the stare for a moment as though the question were rhetorical or not worthy of an answer.

“Or don’t do stupid shit?” Romeo asked, unsure what his father’s lesson was this time. Was there even a lesson?

His father laughed. “Oh, where did I go wrong?” Tex asked as he sat back. “Stupid shit is inevitable.” He took a swallow of his drink. “Just strive to be a better man.”

There he went again. Did he read a fucking book or something?

Bowie came back and stopped by the couch. “Church in twenty minutes.”

With a nod of acknowledgment, Tex lifted his half-filled glass as though in a toast. “Gonna be a lot of church over the next few days.” He groaned, shifting on the couch. “Church and changes,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and resting his drink on his thigh.

Chapter 16

Sparrow

Exiting the Uber she’d gotten to take her home from the diner where she’d had breakfast, Sparrow spotted the Softail Deluxe on the sidewalk next to their apartment building. Just after eight-thirty in the morning…she didn’t expect him to be home this early. He should be sleeping it off with a club slut.

Fidelity among the men of a motorcycle club was rare. Some considered it a myth, like unicorns. She’d accepted it as a fact of life, and it helped her feel less guilty about spending the night with Jacob.

Bracing herself, she put the key in the lock, turned the knob, and pushed the door open. She half expected him to be staring at the door with a murderous expression to question her, but when she entered the apartment, she found him draped over the couch, still wearing his cut. A small makeup mirror held the powdered lines he had yet to snort. Surely he hadn’t come straight home.

Frowning, she carefully closed the door behind her. The gentle click didn’t stir him, so she tiptoed past him to the bedroom. Perfect. Now, all she had to do was get in and out before he woke up from his drug-induced slumber and she could start her life. While he was fucked up on shit and fucking club sluts, she’d assumed she didn’t have to stay with him.

Over breakfast, she’d reviewed her options. There were two choices: branch out on her own or stay with Pipes. She’d done so out of habit, out of the familiar. She’d stayed to be a part of her father’s club, to be closer to him in his death. Her father’s club was gone, done. Being Pipes’ Ol’ Lady wouldn’t bring her closer to her dad. It didn’t make sense anymore.

In the beginning, he’d been a great guy, romantic and thoughtful. The club corrupted him. It’d changed drastically since her father’s death. This wasn’t about the name of the club. It truly wasn’t her father’s club anymore, and Pipes wasn’t Pipes anymore. The more he used the drugs the club sold, the less like the Pipes she met he became. She’d rationalized that if she stayed with him she could convince him to go back to the way he was. That wasn’t reality.

Spending the night with Jacob, their passion, and the fact that her body still ached from the thorough fucking they’d done, had been all she needed to remind her that there was better out there. It might not be Jacob. He’d go home eventually. There were other men, she just needed to get out of this mess so she could find one, or not.

Grabbing a suitcase, she pulled open her dresser drawer and began emptying it into the luggage. She wouldn’t be able to take everything today, but in time she would get it all. She didn’t even know where she’d go. Her mother’s apartment, probably—at least for the time being. She may be a club slut, but her mother would never turn her away. Bowie paid the rent on the apartment, so it was a stable place to go to collect herself.

As she moved to the closet, she pulled out a few things and turned intent on packing them. She gasped when she saw Pipes staring at her from the doorway.

“What are you doing?” he asked, clinging to the doorframe while he swayed slightly in it.

Dropping the clothes into a ball on the bed, she sighed. “I’m packing.” She stated the obvious as the right words seemed to escape her. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Narrowing his eyes, he glanced at the suitcase and then back at her. “Do what? Where were you last night?”

Warily keeping the bed between them, she didn’t like that look in his eye. The rims of his nostrils were red, and he kept sniffling. He must have woken up and snorted some before he found her in there. That meant he’d be really unpredictable. She had to be careful.

“This isn’t working,” she said, waving a hand between them. “I know you wanted to claim me and make it official, but I just—I don’t think I can do that. I don’t think that’s where we are.”

Growling, he launched himself over the bed with the speed of a mongoose and gripped her arms, shaking her. “I decide where we are,” he shouted in her face. “I decide what’s working.”

Sparrow’s head flopped back and forth with the force he used to shake her. Disoriented, she could barely find her footing when he let her go, and she tumbled onto the bed.

Straddling her, his knees rested on either side of her stomach, and his ass landed on her pelvis. “Where the fuck were you?” he demanded, and his hand cracked across her cheek, sending her head whipping to the side.

The pain shot through her face, and sparks danced across her vision. Screaming, tears spilling down her face, she pulled up her knees and tried to buck him off. After she flailed her arms and landed a few punches and scratches, he gripped her wrists, pinning them to the bed.

“Get off me!” she yelled up at him.

“You are my woman,” he grit between clenched teeth.

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