Double oh-boy.
“Ah, okay, well . . . it’s nice meeting you. I’m Jaylah, but you can call me Jay. Or Lah, if you prefer. Though I really don’t like that, because it makes me sound like a Teletubbie, and—”
Mack clears his throat.
Shit, I’m rambling and talking about Teletubbies. Way to impress the bikers.
“Well, Lah,” Mack says, and I want to slap him, really hard. “I think they’ve got the point.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Jay.”
“Lah,” he says, tilting his head to the side and giving me a challenging look.
“Really?” I growl. “Why couldn’t I have gotten a cooler biker to babysit for, like Krypt? He looks cool. You’re just bossy.”
“Krypt is bossy, too.” Ash giggles.
“Woman,” Mack hisses. “Be grateful you’re gettin’ anything from me. I’m payin’ you good money to do this job. Quit complain’ about it.”
Woman . . . WOMAN?
He did not just call me woman.
“Oh, you did not just call me woman.”
He cocks his head. “I did, woman.”
“Mack,” Maddox warns. “Ease up, bro.”
“Poor poor girl,” Santana sympathizes, patting my shoulder. “He’s a challenging one.”
I shake my head, throwing my hands up. In doing this, my boobs bounce around freely, being that they’re unchained. A whole lot of eyes go to my chest. I quickly cover them and mumble, “I’ll take Diesel. I need to get my things today.”
Speaking of, Josie never showed up last night so I’m only left with the basics I had in the car. That’s not what bothers me, though. No, what bothers me is that Josie never showed up. Worry fills my chest and my face falls.
“Is everything okay?” Ash asks.
“Ah,” I say, turning. “Yeah. My friend was meant to bring some things over and she didn’t . . . I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“You look worried. Is there something that would stop her?”
Yeah, an angry drug dealer.
“No, it’s . . . fine.”
I reach for Diesel, but Santana doesn’t let him go. “Have a shower, go and get your things and then come back. I’ll watch him.”
Mother hen.
“Okay, thanks.” I smile.
She returns it, and looks down at Diesel. “I missed you,” she coos. “Yes I did.”
“Jesus,” Mack grunts.
I start towards him and realize he’s blocking my way. He doesn’t move when I reach him, and I cross my arms. “Move.”
He gives me an intense look, and we have a complete Mexican stand-off for a moment before he steps aside. I hurry past him, feeling naked and exposed. The moment I’m in my room, I press my back to the door and sigh. Damn, that was just too much. I head into the shower. I need something to wake me up.
I turn when I step into the bathroom and face the full-length mirror running down the wall next to the dark blue tiles. Well, aren’t I a sight? No wonder they were all staring at me. I look like a hooker. I’m not really tall, but I am curvy. Not fat, but certainly not skinny. I’ve got a well-shaped booty, curvy hips and ample breasts. Apparently just enough to attract a lot of male attention.
My hair is as wild as me. It’s black with streaks of pink and purple. It falls in long, semi-curly waves down to the middle of my back. My eyes are somewhere between green and blue. I’ve never hated myself, or thought I was ugly—no, I was never that girl. I’ve just never loved myself, either. I’m happy with my looks, I flaunt what I’ve got, and I hold no shame.
That’s good enough for me.
I strip out of my clothes, which smell scarily like baby vomit, and get into the shower. After soaking for half an hour, I force myself to get out and get dressed into the clothes I had on yesterday, because I don’t have any fresh ones. Great. This looks...professional. Then I fetch my phone and flip it open, dialing Josie.
“Jay?” she squeaks when she answers.
Her voice doesn’t sound right.
“Jos?” I ask. “Are you okay?”
“I, ah, I’m sorry I didn’t make it last night, but . . .”
“What happened?” I demand, knowing she’s dancing around something big.
“Gregor came past when I was at your place getting your clothes.”
Shit.
Double shit.
“Are you hurt?” I cry. “God, tell me he didn’t hurt you.”
“No,” she says softly. “He just wanted to know where you were. I said you had to go out of town for work, but you’d have his money. I didn’t bring your clothes or come to you because I was scared he’d follow.”
“Shit, honey, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she says. “I’m okay.”
“I’ll come and get the clothes. You just stay away from my house and everything me until this is sorted.”
“I’m okay, Jay.”
“No,” I yell. “No, you’re not getting hurt because of me. Do as I ask, Josie.”
She sighs. “Okay, but I’m worried about you.”
“I’m as safe as I can be,” I whisper, thinking of all the bikers in Mack’s life.
“Are you going to get your things?”
“I’m on my way.”
“Okay.”
“Ah, okay, well . . . it’s nice meeting you. I’m Jaylah, but you can call me Jay. Or Lah, if you prefer. Though I really don’t like that, because it makes me sound like a Teletubbie, and—”
Mack clears his throat.
Shit, I’m rambling and talking about Teletubbies. Way to impress the bikers.
“Well, Lah,” Mack says, and I want to slap him, really hard. “I think they’ve got the point.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Jay.”
“Lah,” he says, tilting his head to the side and giving me a challenging look.
“Really?” I growl. “Why couldn’t I have gotten a cooler biker to babysit for, like Krypt? He looks cool. You’re just bossy.”
“Krypt is bossy, too.” Ash giggles.
“Woman,” Mack hisses. “Be grateful you’re gettin’ anything from me. I’m payin’ you good money to do this job. Quit complain’ about it.”
Woman . . . WOMAN?
He did not just call me woman.
“Oh, you did not just call me woman.”
He cocks his head. “I did, woman.”
“Mack,” Maddox warns. “Ease up, bro.”
“Poor poor girl,” Santana sympathizes, patting my shoulder. “He’s a challenging one.”
I shake my head, throwing my hands up. In doing this, my boobs bounce around freely, being that they’re unchained. A whole lot of eyes go to my chest. I quickly cover them and mumble, “I’ll take Diesel. I need to get my things today.”
Speaking of, Josie never showed up last night so I’m only left with the basics I had in the car. That’s not what bothers me, though. No, what bothers me is that Josie never showed up. Worry fills my chest and my face falls.
“Is everything okay?” Ash asks.
“Ah,” I say, turning. “Yeah. My friend was meant to bring some things over and she didn’t . . . I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“You look worried. Is there something that would stop her?”
Yeah, an angry drug dealer.
“No, it’s . . . fine.”
I reach for Diesel, but Santana doesn’t let him go. “Have a shower, go and get your things and then come back. I’ll watch him.”
Mother hen.
“Okay, thanks.” I smile.
She returns it, and looks down at Diesel. “I missed you,” she coos. “Yes I did.”
“Jesus,” Mack grunts.
I start towards him and realize he’s blocking my way. He doesn’t move when I reach him, and I cross my arms. “Move.”
He gives me an intense look, and we have a complete Mexican stand-off for a moment before he steps aside. I hurry past him, feeling naked and exposed. The moment I’m in my room, I press my back to the door and sigh. Damn, that was just too much. I head into the shower. I need something to wake me up.
I turn when I step into the bathroom and face the full-length mirror running down the wall next to the dark blue tiles. Well, aren’t I a sight? No wonder they were all staring at me. I look like a hooker. I’m not really tall, but I am curvy. Not fat, but certainly not skinny. I’ve got a well-shaped booty, curvy hips and ample breasts. Apparently just enough to attract a lot of male attention.
My hair is as wild as me. It’s black with streaks of pink and purple. It falls in long, semi-curly waves down to the middle of my back. My eyes are somewhere between green and blue. I’ve never hated myself, or thought I was ugly—no, I was never that girl. I’ve just never loved myself, either. I’m happy with my looks, I flaunt what I’ve got, and I hold no shame.
That’s good enough for me.
I strip out of my clothes, which smell scarily like baby vomit, and get into the shower. After soaking for half an hour, I force myself to get out and get dressed into the clothes I had on yesterday, because I don’t have any fresh ones. Great. This looks...professional. Then I fetch my phone and flip it open, dialing Josie.
“Jay?” she squeaks when she answers.
Her voice doesn’t sound right.
“Jos?” I ask. “Are you okay?”
“I, ah, I’m sorry I didn’t make it last night, but . . .”
“What happened?” I demand, knowing she’s dancing around something big.
“Gregor came past when I was at your place getting your clothes.”
Shit.
Double shit.
“Are you hurt?” I cry. “God, tell me he didn’t hurt you.”
“No,” she says softly. “He just wanted to know where you were. I said you had to go out of town for work, but you’d have his money. I didn’t bring your clothes or come to you because I was scared he’d follow.”
“Shit, honey, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she says. “I’m okay.”
“I’ll come and get the clothes. You just stay away from my house and everything me until this is sorted.”
“I’m okay, Jay.”
“No,” I yell. “No, you’re not getting hurt because of me. Do as I ask, Josie.”
She sighs. “Okay, but I’m worried about you.”
“I’m as safe as I can be,” I whisper, thinking of all the bikers in Mack’s life.
“Are you going to get your things?”
“I’m on my way.”
“Okay.”
