Page 45 of Flint

“No, I can do it. I think. I mean, you can teach me, right? It was something I used to do, so maybe I’ll have muscle memory or something if it’s simple.”

They all share a look between the five of them, one that says the routine is anything but simple.

“Oh, come on, guys. Bailey said I practiced like once a month, so it can’t be that big a deal,” Kitten retorts.

“You only did that once a month with us. You couldn’t meet with us because of your….” Miles stops and looks at Bailey for guidance.

“My what?”

“Oh shit, no way. That’s tomorrow, isn’t it?” Jordan chimes in as Bailey nods and looks away.

“What’s tomorrow?” Kitten looks at me, and I shrug.

Bailey takes a breath, almost as if she’s putting on armor to bring in more bad news. Girl really packs the guilt on herself. That much is obvious. “Your marathon. You trained for a year, sweetie. You wanted to prove to yourself that you could do something with the whole new kidney thing, that you didn’t need family to help you.”

“Excuse me, but we’re family.” Jordan glares, and Bailey only smiles. At least it ain’t fake. “I think what you meant to say was she wanted to prove she didn’t need biological soul suckers and cock-sucking assholes taking advantage of her to accomplish something for herself that no one could take away.”

“Yeah,” Kitten replies offhandedly. Then her face scrunches up. “But someone did take that away, sort of.” The table goes quiet as I watch my girl work through her thoughts. “And yet I did accomplish shit on my own. I mean, I don’t know about you, but I doubt walking into a biker club and calling them all assholes was a good idea. But I sit here today proving I did, and I think I’ll drink to that.”

“Agreed.” Bailey raises her glass, and it instantly splashes on the table, along with another being spilled over her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I—oh, it’s you.” Wow, never actually witnessed someone who wasn’t a vamp go from sweet to royal bitch so quickly as the newcomer looks over the table briefly. “If it isn’t queen fat and the misfits. What, Weight Watchers kick you out again, so you think it’s okay to be here? Take your half-price appetizers and beat it before they realize you ate them out of the food here.”

Gator and I stiffen, and I narrow my eyes at her. Bass, Jumper, and Domino are a table over, and they heard it as well. I can already see them rising behind Bailey and heading over. We don’t take kindly to stuck-up bitches. Especially for being a bitch when the shit ain’t needed. And not when someone is under club protection. Jules has it, so this whole damn table is now covered.

“Well, hi, Carolyn. How are you?”

Okay, this is new. I mean, Bailey is a nice chick, but she’s being uber sweet right now. Never seen a girl do that after getting verbally bitch-slapped. Even Maddy only does it to a point, right before she smashes the cunt’s face in.

“It’s so great seeing you again,” Bailey continues. “How’s that husband of yours? I heard he’s working a lot with Alexi, and didn’t she beat you out for prom queen? Don’t worry, Junior is doing just fine in school. Thanks for checking up on him, as I know you’ve been very busy that you haven’t made any of the parent-teacher conferences I’ve set up with you.”

“Kill with kindness” takes on a whole new meaning as we watch Bailey just sprinkle on the sugar. Classy way to clap back.

“Fuck you, Bailey, you fat horse.” Guess Carolyn saw through that verbal hand slap.

And that’s about the time that Gator’s done sitting on the sidelines.

Chapter 19 – Julianne

M

y friends are so cool. Seriously, I have no idea who any of them are, but I like what I’m seeing.

Miles and Gidget are just so cute. They’re quiet compared to the others. I wonder if that’s just them or the fact that a few of the others can’t stop talking. They kind of match, too, wearing jeans, tennis shoes, and space shirts. Both are super thin, but it works for them, and they have big, black-framed glasses that take up half their faces. Their hair is the same mousy brown, and both have it cut short. Gidget’s only comes to right above her shoulders. They’re so charming, and I just met them. Okay, so for them, we’ve known one another for years. Well, I guess only two years with Gidget, but still.

Then there’s Meekail and Jordan. Okay, first, hot damn. I mean, damn, they’re fine. A couple. You kind of have to be when you own a gym together and see each other like that daily. I’m sure if I were a guy and I had to work with the other all day—shirts optional, of course—I’d start swinging my dick in their direction. Not sure which one I would choose. Maybe both. But alas, I’m not a guy. They’re also sweet, and Jordan is loud, which works for the stoic Meekail, I guess. But they aren’t jerks. I sort of have a thing for jerks. Okay, one jerk. And actually, it’s the jackass in him that makes me appreciate how he treats me so well.

They’ve got this whole yin-yang thing going for them. The fact that Jordan is a bit leaner than Meekail does nothing to distract from the yummy muscles on display. Jordan seems more into style, with a button-up on, while Meekail went for just a solid T-shirt. And did I mention how cute their kids would be if they could combine their hotness? We got dark chocolate and white chocolate. Milk chocolate just seems like a possibility, and I don’t see an ugly part on them, so however the little one turned out—all white, all black, a bit of both—they’d be adorable.

And then there’s Bailey. She didn’t go crazy with the attire, but I did notice her top is a bit lower, showing off some generous cleavage. I mean, the girl’s got a nice rack. Even I want to put my face between them and motorboat for a bit. No wonder Gator can’t stop staring, nor half the guys here.

I so wish I remembered her. I can see why we’re friends. She’s amazing and apparently carries a lot of guilt on her shoulders. She has a soft soul. Gave me a kidney, after apparently tricking me into it, to save my life. Goes to battle against anyone who comes after me. I wonder if I ever did anything for her. She hasn’t mentioned anything, but I don’t know if it would be her style to do so. I’d be a shitty friend if this was a one-sided deal.

She’s been doing everything to get me back in the world—well, a world I guess I should remember. Constantly coming by, checking on me, telling me all sorts of stories. She quickly realized I really hate when I’m told about what I was, so she shares things about others instead. Things I bet I’m supposed to know, but she just goes with it, never once saying things like “you were there” or “don’t you remember?” Those have become my least favorite sayings, and they don’t even happen that often. Still, they piss me off.

I get that I’m supposed to remember. I even get that I’m supposed to want to remember. I got my reason for why I don’t, but that’s not the point. My brain is telling me, teasing me, that it has knowledge just stored up. I can feel it. I know it’s there. And every time I try to concentrate and open that damn door they all seem to be trapped behind, I get a massive headache, and General is called. Thankfully, he’s keeping the lectures to calls only, but I feel it’s just because Gator is the one who calls. If Flint ever sees how worked up these little memory trials go, I bet the good General will do a house call. And we all know how that ends up for me when I see my favorite doctor. Torture. Plain and simple torture.

So, on top of dealing with Flint being back, and not being sure if crawling in his lap and licking his neck is going to be a good idea or not, I can’t access my full brain potential. I’m meeting some awesome people, and I can see a few of the club guys close by, which makes me super happy to have both groups together. Not that they’re talking, but I want both. I want the new me and the old me. Not sure if I can have both, but if everyone is allowing it right now, I’m not about to rock the boat.

---