Prodigal Son (6 page)

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Authors: Jayna King

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College, #Romance

BOOK: Prodigal Son
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She took the card cautiously and looked it over. “So what does a ‘Business Analyst’ from Scottsdale want with me?” Her gaze was direct and challenging.

I fumbled around for the right words. “I’m not here in a business capacity.” I hesitated before going any further.

“You’ve got about fifteen seconds to tell me what ‘capacity’ you’re here in, or I’m going back inside. Spit it out.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m your son.”

Sable didn’t move a muscle. She looked me up and down, taking in every detail before coming to rest on my face. She studied me, and I stood still, uncomfortable under her gaze, but unwilling to disturb what had to be an incredibly tangled mess of thoughts and emotions. She opened her mouth to speak and thought better of it, closing her mouth and continuing her examination.

She finally spoke. “I guess you’d better come inside.”

She started toward the house without looking back, leaving me standing behind her.

Chapter 8
Krystal

Sunday, May 5, 2013

I
was glad I hadn’t stayed longer at Luke’s hotel, or at least that’s what I told myself. I was staring at my accounting homework and drinking coffee, grateful to not have a hangover and a headache. I couldn’t help daydreaming about Luke, though. I thought about him — a little drunk the night before — and wished he’d had the guts to kiss me. I wanted him, but I wasn’t going to chase him. If he didn’t understand that a man who takes what he wants is the sexiest thing I could think of, then he wasn’t the guy for me.

My phone chimed to tell me that I had a text message. I dreaded picking up the phone, assuming that it was Bug letting me know that if I played my cards right, he’d let me give him a blow job. Such a romantic.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that the text was from Luke. I agreed to go to the ball game with him, and the grin on my face made me realize how long it had been since I’d actually been happy about seeing a man. Maybe it was finally time for me to rethink my relationship with Bug.

Realizing that my homework wasn’t going to do itself, I forced myself to forget about the tall, blond, sexy man that had walked into my bar last night. I finished the assignment, turned it in online, and remembered that I needed to pay some bills before I got ready for work.

I pulled up my bank account online and realized that there was no way I could pay my car insurance, and my cable and internet that were both due in a couple of days. Even if I deposited my tip money from the night before, I’d still be a little short. When my roommate, Red, had moved out a few weeks before, I’d been so fucking relieved. She was a crank-loving whore, and I’d been happy to see her go. I didn’t know where she’d gone, but I’d been happy that I’d never have to come home to find her having overdosed again.

What I hadn’t calculated was how much money she’d actually paid toward the bills every month. Deciding that I’d just have to work extra hard for tips during my lunch shift, I figured I could probably talk Mark into giving me another shift or two that week. If I was careful, I was pretty sure I could cover at least the two bills that were due right away. I didn’t even want to think about how I was going to pay for my tuition for the summer classes I wanted to take. Maybe I was a fool to even try.

Feeling a little down, I looked at the clock and realized that I needed to get ready for work. I fished a clean work shirt out of my dresser, and I wished I could wear street clothes to work. I figured that if I could, I could probably rake in more tips per shift. Even though I knew that I wouldn’t be young forever, I figured I should enjoy looking hot while I could. My clothes laid out, I took off my pajamas and was just about to get in the shower when I heard a knock at my apartment door.

I grabbed a towel and went to the door. I had a feeling that I knew who I’d see when I looked throughout the peephole.

“Hey, baby. I’m about to get in the shower.”

“Open the door,” Bug said from the hallway.

I thought for a second and couldn’t figure out any way to make Bug leave without starting a huge fight. I sighed and unlocked the door. Before I could turn the doorknob, the door swung open so fast that it clipped my shoulder before I could get out of the way.

“Ow!” I said, as I stepped back from the doorway. “You shoved the door into me.”

“Well, I wasn’t the one out fuckin’ around last night,” Bug growled as he stepped inside. “You alone?”

I looked at him, dumbfounded, like I was seeing him for the first time. He was about my height — roughly 5’7” or so, and even beneath his black leather Savage Sons cut, his shoulder muscles bulged. I’d never told Bug this, but he looked ridiculous — all upper body strength and puny little legs that were ridiculously out of proportion. When you coupled his odd physique with the fact that the steroids that he took to build his arm muscles meant that he couldn’t always get it up, I was seriously starting to wonder why I was with him at all.

Beneath his long and not-very-clean brown hair, Bug’s bloodshot eyes told me that he probably hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and I’d bet my rent money that he hadn’t been alone if he’d spent any time in bed. Bug’s rules said that it was fine for him to sleep around, but I was for his eyes only.

I realized that Bug was waiting for me to speak. “Of course I’m alone.”

Bug grunted as he walked into the living room and proceeded to check every room in my small apartment. I sighed as I closed the door that he’d left hanging wide open, and I realized that I was starting to get pissed.

“Hey,” I called. “What do you want? I need to get ready for work.”

“You expectin’ someone?” he asked as he came out of my bedroom.

“Jesus, no, Bug. I told you. I need to get ready for work. My shift starts in a little over an hour.”

He just stared at me like he was trying to decide if I was telling the truth. As much as I needed the money, I decided to try to smooth things over so that I didn’t end up in a big fight that would make me late for work.

“I wish I could spend the day with you, but I need the money, sugar. Can I see you later tonight?”

Bug shrugged, like it was no big deal either way. “I guess. I’ll be at the clubhouse. If you don’t show up, I won’t have any trouble finding someone to keep me company.”

I didn’t feel like it, but I knew that if I wanted to keep my options with Bug open that I needed to flatter him a little so that he didn’t just dump me. Even though he wasn’t much of a catch, any of the sluts at the clubhouse would be happy to take my place — at least until they figured out what Bug was really like.

“Oh, I’ll be there. I need some of what you got, sugar,” I said in the sexiest voice I could muster.

Bug looked pretty pleased, and I assumed that I must have been pretty convincing. He looked me up and down and reached out for my towel. He pulled it hard, leaving me standing naked in the hallway outside the bathroom.

I put my arms out and turned around slowly to let him take a good look. “Seeing what you’ll be getting later?” I teased.

He reached out and pinched my right nipple hard, so hard that it brought tears to my eyes. I knew better than to say anything, though. I’d discovered that showing pain turned Bug on more than anything else. If he got worked up and wanted to fuck me, there would be no way for me to stop him, and I’d be late for work for sure. If he couldn’t manage to get hard for the job, I’d probably end up bruised and calling in sick to work. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I can’t wait to show you how much I want you,” I said, walking around behind him and pressing my tits up against his leather cut.

The cut really did turn me on, with all it symbolized. There was nothing sexier than a badass biker who did what he wanted and didn’t give a shit about what anyone else thought. For a second, I thought about what Luke would look like wearing a cut and straddling a Harley. Jesus, talk about a sexy mental picture.

“You can show me tonight,” Bug said as he handed my towel back to me.

“Can’t wait,” I said, feeling better when I was covered up again.

Bug studied me for a second. “Hey, baby, why don’t you bring some of that tip money with you to the club tonight?”

Motherfucker. He was being nice because he wanted money?

“Sugar, I’m short for my bills this month since Red moved out, and I’m gonna need every dollar I make.”

“Well, I haven’t seen you offering to buy your own beers. You expect me to pay your way even though you want to run around on me at night?”

“Jesus, Bug.” I was starting to get really pissed. “I wasn’t running around on you, and I hardly drink except when you’re trying to get me drunk so I’ll let you do things I don’t like.”

“Krystal, you’re gonna have to start paying your way. Since the money from the MC’s business has dried up, I can’t make ends meet anymore. If you can show me that you’re willing to pitch in, I was even thinking about asking you to move in with me — making you my old lady, officially.”

How could this be happening? I’d wanted to be a Savage Sons old lady as long as I could remember. And now, when I’d finally started college and was trying to make something good of my messy life, it looked like Bug was gonna be the guy who could make it happen. The problem? Bug was an asshole, and I knew it. I also knew that I wouldn’t get more than one chance at an old lady spot, and I decided to hedge my bets until I could decide what I really wanted.

I let my towel slip a bit, exposing most of one breast as I leaned over to kiss Bug. Jesus, he smelled like old whiskey and cigarette smoke. He kissed me back and reached out to tweak my nipple, less painfully this time.

“Get in the shower and get to work, girl. I’ll see you tonight,” Bug said as he headed for the door. He turned just before he opened it. “And wear something that makes you look hot tonight. If you’re gonna be the VP’s old lady, you gotta look the part.”

He closed the door behind him, and I leaned against the wall. What was I going to do?

Chapter 9
Luke

I
followed Sable up the driveway to the front door of the house. All of a sudden, I felt like I was gonna either pass out or throw up, and I didn’t think it was my hangover. I was about to walk inside the home belonging to the woman who’d given birth to me and left me behind. I stopped walking once I got to the porch.

“You all right?” Sable asked as she turned to face me from the front door.

“Um, I’m not sure,” I answered. “I didn’t expect to actually see you, let alone come inside your house and have a conversation.”

“Well, you want to leave?” she asked.

“No,” I answered quickly, realizing that I was being silly and needed to go inside and face my past like a man. “I’m fine.”

I took a step inside and was surprised. The house was even bigger than it had looked from the outside. I guess I’d expected something more along the lines of a trailer in a mobile home park, so this spacious, tasteful upper-middle class home was a little perplexing.

“You have a lovely home,” I observed, using my manners in a way that would have made my parents proud.

“Yeah, it’s bigger than we really need, and we almost never have anyone over, but…” Sable paused. “I don’t know why I’m talking about a stupid house when you’re standing here. Want some coffee?” she asked, heading toward the kitchen.

“Yes, please.”

“Have a seat,” she said, pointing at the bar in the kitchen that faced the counters.

I pulled a bar stool from beneath the counter and sat down, watching her work without saying a word. I wanted to know what she was thinking, but I decided to let her take her time in telling me.

She used one of the single cup coffee brewers, and she slid the mug over to me in less than a minute.

“Cream or sugar?” she asked.

“No, thanks.”

She made herself a cup, added a splash of cream and leaned on the counter facing me, studying my face.

“You look a little like your father,” she observed, finally ending the silence. “I guess you have some questions for me, huh?”

“I hardly know where to start,” I admitted, feeling a little ridiculous for having gone to the trouble of tracking my mother down, only to find myself tongue-tied.

“Well, do you want me to tell you my story?” Sable’s voice was quiet.

I felt choked up all of a sudden by the emotion that my birth mother’s voice held, and all I could do was nod.

Sable sighed and took a drink of her coffee before she started. “I was all of seventeen years old when I met your father. I was still in high school, but he was an older man — twenty-two when we met.”

I didn’t want to say a word, but I watched as Sable’s expression turned softer — like she was nostalgic for a past that could never be revisited.

“Your father was in the service — the Marines — and he traveled all over the world, while I was stuck here in Denver waiting for him to return, only to have him leave again. My parents didn’t really like Daniel ‘cause they thought he was too old and a little too rough around the edges for their baby girl.” Sable set down the coffee cup she’d been holding and looked out the window. “They may have been right.

“Anyway, on one of Daniel’s visits home, I got pregnant. He was only home for a couple of weeks that time, and he left before I knew I was expecting a child. We didn’t exactly part on good terms — we’d had a huge fight the night before he left — so I didn’t tell him. I knew that he probably had a right to know, but I wasn’t sure that he’d be any kind of father, and I wasn’t sure that I ever wanted to be with him again. It was a hard decision, but I went to stay with an old high school friend who’d moved to Arizona. I waited it out, had you, and I gave you up for adoption.”

Sable stood up and walked over to the sink, as if she was looking for an excuse not to look me in the eye. “I only saw you once in the hospital before they took you away. The social worker told me that you’d be going to a good home, and I just felt like I couldn’t take care of you all by myself.”

She turned to look at me. “It was the hardest decision of my life, and I’ve regretted it ever since.” Sable’s eyes started to fill with tears. “Excuse me for a minute,” she said as she walked out of the room and up the stairs, leaving me alone in her kitchen.

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