All That Matters (8 page)

The image of Claire on her knees in front of him--her long blonde hair would be all over the place, he'd be able to see the tramp stamp on her lower back, some tribal crap. He'd also be able to see her ribs and most of the bones in her spine. She was on a perpetual diet, probably aided by some illegal substances. Meg's ribs didn't show. Meg's body was lush, full of curves he just wanted to explore with his tongue. His cock strained against his jeans as memories flooded his mind. He could just about hear the little noises that she made when she was trying not to scream, or even better when she did scream.

The boys weren't home. He could call her, tell her to open the door, and fuck her until she couldn't scream anymore. He got his phone out, scrolled to her number and was ready to dial, when he had another flash of Meg, specifically the moment that she noticed his scar and reached for it. It was the look on her face. It wasn't pity, but it was close. He didn't need pity. He didn't need complications. What he needed to do was go in the house, handle things himself. Gagliardi had sent them several cases of movies. He'd grabbed a handful. New porn was always a good thing, but porn wasn't warm and soft the way Meg was.

Maybe he would have actually done that if he hadn't caught a glimpse of movement in his side view mirror. Train knew that it was Josh by the way the man stumbled and swerved his way down the sidewalk. If the windows had been open, he was sure that he'd have heard the man talk to himself as well. His lips were moving; it almost looked like he was laughing.

Train got out of the truck, and Josh didn't even notice. “Stupid bitch. Fat bitch. Thinks that she can hide shit from me.” He had a Jack Daniels bottle clutched in his hand. “It's my house. Those are my fucking kids.”

Every word out of his mouth pissed Train off. Josh got closer and closer, still didn't seem to see that he wasn't alone in the night. He kept mumbling, calling Meg names, which explained why her insecurity rolled off of her in waves, even after all that she did for him.

“Oh shit. Hey, Brother!” Josh finally noticed him. “Have a drink with me.” He held out the bottle with a laugh. “I'm flush tonight, going to head down to Foxy Bend, see some fine ass on display.”

“Foxy Bend is closed, Josh.” Train felt his hands clench into fists. The urge to strike Josh in the face repeatedly was strong, but he held back since they were nearly on his lawn. He didn't want to have to deal with Josh knocked out on his grass.

“Shit. Is it? I used to fuck Karen back in the day, she was a hot piece of ass. Amazing mouth.” Josh took a messy swig from the bottle. “You got anything, Brother? I've got cash. Bitch was holding out on me again.” He dug into his pocket. A syringe dropped out onto the sidewalk; he left it there and pulled out a small wad of bills. “Said she needed to go grocery shopping. Fuck that. She can go to the food bank. She isn't too good for that shit.”

Train had a sudden flash of memory of eating out of dented cans or even worse, mystery cans without labels. Technically the people at the food bank hadn't been allowed to give out food directly to the kids, but at least one of them usually felt sorry enough for him and his sister when they'd show up, they'd leave with a couple bags of food and maybe a few dollars. Food was food, even if it was canned roast beef. “Aren't your kids too good for that?”

“They get breakfast and lunch at school.” Josh laughed as if it were actually funny. “That's enough for them, and we both know that Meg can afford to miss a few meals.”

Train didn't find anything about Josh funny. Every word that came out of the man's mouth only added to the severity of the beating he was about to get thrown just for the way he didn't give a flying fuck about his kids. The way he talked about Meg, after all that she did for him, made Train want to snap his neck right then and there.

“How much money you got there?” Train cleared his throat.

Josh's eyes lit up. “Forty dollars. It's enough to get me right. Come on, help me get right,” he pleaded. “I just need to get right.”

“You need to get off the shit, that's what you need to do. You need to get sober and man up, take responsibility for those kids you brought into this world. They didn't ask for that.” Train didn't realize that he'd grabbed Josh by the arm until the man began to squirm. “You need to do better for 'em or let them go.”

“Meg put you up to this?” Josh let out a snort of laughter. “Those are my boys. She wants kids, she can go out and make her own.” Sweat was dripping down his face, probably an early sign of withdrawal.

“She raises them now,” Train pointed out.

“It's like...” Josh seemed to be searching for the right word. “It's like she's my nanny. That's it, my live-in nanny.” He laughed again. “Best part, I don't have to pay her. Enough about that bitch. Come on, I want to score. Let's go score.”

“No.” Train tightened his grip on Josh's arm, hard enough that the man's eyes opened wide with shock. “Give me that money. I find out that you take a cent away from your kids or Meg again, I'll take your fingers. We clear?”

“Whoa, there's no need for such hostility,” Josh whined.

Train almost laughed. This was nowhere near hostile for him. Hostile would be taking a finger right here and now just to prove that he would. “You don't want to see me hostile, Josh. Do not test that.”

“Is she really that good in bed?” Josh asked and then screamed when Train twisted his arm behind his back. “Fuck. Fuck. That hurts!”

“That's the point.” Train realized once again that you can't fix stupid. Josh was really stupid. “Get the fuck out of here. And if I hear you gave any of them any kind of shit, I'll take your fucking lips.” He snatched the money from Josh and threw him forward. The man stumbled, scraped his hands but was up and running in a heartbeat. Train watched him run away with a laugh. The laughter faded when he looked down at the money in his hand. It was forty dollars, in lots of small bills. It wouldn't go far at the grocery store. Without thinking about what he was doing, he took out his wallet and added a few more bills. Train slipped the money back into his pocket and started towards Meg's place.

He dialed her number, looked up at her bedroom window and waited to see if the light would come on. The light didn't, but she picked up the phone, her voice thick with sleep. “Sorry to wake you,” Train walked up on the porch. “I've got something of yours. You want to come down and open up the door?”

Meg opened the door a minute later, hair still rumpled from sleep. She had on a tank top and a pair of pajama pants. “What's going on, Train?” She rubbed her hands over her eyes with a look that was more than a little confused.

“I ran into Josh. Seems like he found your stash spot. I let him keep the bottle of Jack, figured you wanted this back more. The next time that he takes a cent from you or the boys, I'm going to take his fingers. You've got no say in that.” Train braced for whatever her reaction would be. Part of him expected that she'd try and defend Josh. If she did, she was really going to piss him off.

Anger flashed across her face. “How do I have no say when it's my life? I'm no damsel in distress. I don't need saving by you or anyone.”

“You've got no say because he's a father. He should be protecting those boys, not bringing his bullshit home to them.” Train felt the beginning of a migraine clamping down on his temples. It wasn't enough to stop his growing erection at the sight of what the cold was doing to her nipples. “Take the money. It's yours.” He handed her the bills and the ones he'd slipped out of his wallet as he walked up.

Meg took the money, counted it twice and looked up at him with a frown. “This is too much.”

“That's what I found on him,” Train replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Sorry about waking you up but I figured that you might need this in the morning or something. I should probably let you go back to bed.” It was the last thing that he wanted to let her do. He could think of a dozen better things for them to do, but he didn't want to push.

“You could come in if you want. Probably won't be able to go back to sleep.” She kept her eyes on his as she stepped back into the house.

“You got something to eat?” Train asked. “Not to be a pain in the ass, but I'm hungry.” She smiled at him, really smiled as he crossed into the house and shut the door behind him. “Aren't you freezing?” Her nipples certainly said that she was, not that he was complaining.

“I wasn't. It's warm upstairs in my bed. I think I've got a sweater in the kitchen either way.” She motioned for Train to follow her to the kitchen. “So, what's been up with you?”

“Not much. Working. Trying to finish up the basement at the house. What about you?” He felt awkward, standing there making small talk when he was starting to get wood just looking at her, but he did want to know how she'd been. Something told him she hadn't been good.

“Just working.” She made her way to the fridge. He'd noticed the hitch in her step earlier; she was limping a bit. “I need to go to the grocery store, but I've got the basics. I could make you bacon and eggs.”

“Sounds good. You hurt your ankle or something?” Train's first thought was that Josh had laid hands on her. He wasn't prepared for the rush of rage that rolled through him.

“Oh,” she looked down at her foot. “I've just been putting in extra hours at work. My feet are just killing me. I'm off tomorrow and the boys won't be back until the afternoon. I'm going to sleep as late as I can, and then I'll be fine.”

Train unclenched fists he hadn't realized he'd made. “What is it that you do at the casino hotel?” Train remembered she'd said she worked there, but he was sure that she hadn't mentioned what.

“I work in housekeeping. I'll take a shift in the laundry if I can get it. You work construction, right? I've seen you in the Nightshade Construction van before. Not that I was like looking for you or anything, I just saw you in it.”

“I know,” Train enjoyed the view of her ass as she bent down to get a frying pan out of the oven. “I like my eggs over easy, if that's not a problem.”

“I'll try, but I'm not very good at making them that way. How do you like your bacon?”

“Crispy.” He replied. “Thanks for cooking for me. I appreciate it.”

“Thanks for getting my money back and then some. I've got no clue where Josh came up with money from.” She sighed. “You're not joking about the whole take his fingers thing, are you?”

“No, I'm not,” Train answered without hesitation. He braced himself for her to get pissed or tell him to get out, but instead she just looked resigned. And tired, really tired. Train wondered how many extra hours she'd been working. “I'm hoping that he can take the hint.”

“Honestly, I doubt that he will. He's a bit dense that way. And I'm damn sure that I'm going to end up taking the brunt of his anger on this. It's usually me.” She'd set the fryer on the burner but hadn't moved otherwise. “And I'm scared.”

Train could tell that it cost her to admit that in the way her shoulders slumped. He'd been wrong. She wasn't just tired, she was defeated. Everything on her shoulders had finally dragged her down. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd played a part in that. “There's nothing to be scared of. He comes around here, acts any way you don't like, you call me or Monroe. Also, I'm going to suggest that you change the locks. Probably better that he doesn't have a key.”

“He'll just break in.”

“He might,” Train admitted. “But I guarantee you that he'll only do it once.” He crossed the kitchen to where she stood, hated the look on her face, so he took her chin in his hand. “It's what's best for you and the boys, I know that you know that.”

“I do. Just like I know that there's no way in hell Josh had any more cash on him than what he took from me. The rest of that is your money, isn't it?” She didn't pull away from his touch, but she didn't look pleased, either. “I'm going to pay you back on Friday. No argument.”

There was no way to tell her that he wasn't going to take money from her and not cause a huge argument, so Train simply nodded. Before she could say anything else, he leaned in and kissed her. Immediately her hands gripped his shirt to pull him close. Her arms wound around his neck and he slid his hands down to her ass. She made a breathless sound. “I was really hoping you'd have called me sooner,” he admitted as he trailed his mouth along her jaw, down to her neck.

“I wasn't sure that you wanted me to. Things felt... strange right before you left last time. Oh!” She hissed as he bit down on her neck. “Oh, I like that.” Her nails dug into his back. Train had thought it was impossible for his cock to get any harder, but it did; she'd remembered what he'd told her he liked the first time. And she seemed to like it, too. He looked over her shoulder, saw one side of the counter had next to nothing on it.