Page 4 of Dr Feel Good
Maybe I was the dumbass for continuing to waste my breath on advice she refused to take.
“Heisn’tyour man,” I gritted. “He belongs to Jinx and has, legally, for the past ten years. You’re turning forty next month.” Tempering my annoyance and ignoring our complicated history, I laid a hand on her arm. “I know you want kids. We’ve talked about it—”
“Iwantedkids.Keir’s,” she said, referring to Louisiana’s given name. “Without him, my pussy is a one-way passage. Dicks go in, but babies don’t come out.”
“You’re fucking disgusting,” I said, shaking my head and laughing despite myself. “Come on. Let’s find one of the guys. They’ll point us to Louisiana. It’s just so fucking crowded tonight, so he and Jinx probably haven’t spotted us.”
“You’re fucking insane! I’m not hunting that motherfucker down.I’mthe queen. He comes to me. Always has and always will.”
I clenched my jaw to keep from cursing her out. Louisianadidcome to her, but not for the reasons she made it sound, and usually with Jinx. He loved the fuck out of that woman and didn’t want bullshit with her, who (guiltily), I preferred over Fendi.
Jinx could be a royal bitch when provoked, but Fendi was a fucking cunt on a good goddamn day. Again, it had nothing to do with Warrior, even if she’d fucked him for months not long after he and I split.
Water under the fucking bridge.
“Keir will be forty-three. I’m sure he’s ready for a kid,” Fendi chirped. “Mine. That’s why my womb is closed to anyone else’s seed.”
Snorting, I rolled my eyes. “Are you sure you haven’t convinced yourself of that becauseyoudon’t want children?”
“I’m not getting into a great debate with you about this.” Fendi’s sea-green eyes narrowed. As a child, she’d been a catalog model, but she fell in with the wrong crowd and everything went to shit, turning her into the hardened, cynical chick she was today. I understood. My fucking life hadn’t been roses and sunshine, but I chose to still believe in happiness. To look for the good. Not every fucking situation was a competition or meant as an affront. “We all knowyoudream of a knight on steel and chrome to put a ring on your finger and resurrect the kid you lost.”
Ouch.
Since I didn’t have extra money for dental bills, I didn’t clamp my jaw any tighter and risk a fucking tooth. Somehow, I managed not to answer her. If I clocked that bitch, Razor wouldn’t be happy. He didn’t like his brothers fighting. Hedefinitely wouldn’t tolerate it from me and my sisters. In certain situations, I kept a certain facade in place, knew when to shut the fuck up, and followed most protocols and rules.
However, if anyone had heard her say that disrespectful shit to me, she’d be due an ass-beating when we returned to The Haven.
While I’d recently added diplomacy to my set of skills, violence was required in this life, and I’d never shied away from it. Years ago, as a hang around, I quickly gained a warlike reputation, and Fendi—president of the KC chapter, until I unseated her two years ago—pegged me as the goddess of war.
I suggested Morrigan, although the Celtic goddess tended to turn into a crow, and Ihatedfucking birds.Almostas much as I hated hard liquor, seclusion, pumpkinanything, doctors, cops, lawyers, Bloody Femmes, Bloody Scorpions (except one), cooking, housework, jellybeans, and circus peanuts.
It didn’t matter. Fendi shot down Morrigan, Enyo, and Bellona, all more fitting in my estimation. And Fendi outright laughed when I suggested Freya.
“She’s the goddess of love and beauty, Athena. Neither of which are associated withyou. That’s your sisters’ calling cards.”
Never mind that Freya wasalsothe Norse goddess of war. As a prominent figure in their pantheon, she occupied several roles. I didn’t correct Fendi, though. At the time, I hadn’t been able to without consequences.
Almost a decade later, and those fucking words still left me salty. Like Fendi, the Harlots and their sisterhood came before any pettiness for me.
A hand landed on my shoulder, and I turned partially.
“Razor’s ready to see you,” Warrior murmured.
He was the club’s treasurer, mean as a fucking snake to enemies, and as beautiful as Lucifer was rumored to be before he fell to Hell. Where Warrior belonged, in my estimation.
I’d worked at the strip club for two fucking weeks before the fine motherfucker blazed into Memphis on Royal Bastard business, came into the joint for a lap dance, and fucked me to within an inch of my goddamn life.
Back then, I needed a better way to help Mama and Daddy make ends meet. Fast food work hadn’t cut it. On my eighteenth birthday, Mama introduced me to her johns, although she didn’t tell Daddy. As her pimp, he wouldn’t have liked being cut out of our arrangement, but the stupid motherfucker just drank away the money she earned for our rent and utilities. We had to dosomethingso we wouldn’t end up on the fucking streets.
Just a few weeks in, and Mama and I decided the risk was too great. If Daddy discovered our duplicity, he would’ve fucked us up. Lake and Juno, then thirteen and eight, were still oblivious to shit, still happily in school during the week, and at Aunt Sheron’s during the weekend to play with our cousins.
My sisterswere the reason I hadn’t moved away and got my own place. When Mama wasn’t around for them, I made sure I was. I didn’t want them to go through what I had, and if left up to my father, their virginity would’ve been sold to the highest bidder as soon as their tits started coming in.
With our joint decision that I leave streetwalking behind, Mama got me into a high-end strip club. We both thought prostitution within that framework would be safer. In the end, she regretted that decision because Warrior took me away.
I fell in love. Though Warrior later proved he was a motherfucker, he took care of my parents and little sisters so Lake and Juno would have chances I never did. And when our parents were killed when Lake was sixteen and Juno was eleven, he brought them to live with us.
We’d been so good together, him and me. I saw forever with him. Until forever came with conditions.
