Page 32 of Tormented
“Stayin’ close to Mack. . . it’s selfish.”
Hooch frowns, twisting in his seat slightly so he can face me better. “How is wantin’ to be a part of your boy’s life selfish?”
“Because as long as I’m around, trouble ain’t far behind.”
“You sayin’ you think it’s best if you left then?”
I sigh, jamming both hands in my pockets as I slouch down in my seat. “In a nutshell.”
Nutshell. My devil laughs. That’s priceless . . . Nut=me. Shell=you. Fantastic . . . .
With a quick heel of my hand straight to the temple, I manage to shake him up enough to shut his piehole.
“You talked to Mona about it?”
“Ain’t none of her business, what I want to do.”
“Who’s going to tell Mack then? Or were you just plannin’ on skippin’ out of town without saying a thing?”
I roll my head to the side and level his gaze. “I may be an asshole, Hooch, but I’m not that cold.”
He shrugs. “Just puttin’ it out there.”
The dense clomp of heavy boots on the timber decking has both our heads turning to see who’s joined us.
Now we’re talking . . . .
“You boys thirsty?” Abbey asks. “I was just fixing myself a drink, so thought I’d be polite and ask.”
Hooch places his order.
I just stare.
She’s a fucking sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. Long legs going on for miles before they reach her tight leather booty shorts. And one of those old T-shirts of Apex’s she’s always worn, but unlike when she was young, the side is tied into a knot at her hip, giving me a peek at her stomach.
I lift my gaze to find her watching me. “What about you?”
“Love a Coke,” I say, narrowing my gaze on her.
“No alcohol?” Bitch smirks.
“Not for a while, I think.”
“You need anything else, you just holler for me, okay?” Her teeth rake over her cherry red bottom lip before she turns and walks away.
I can feel Hooch’s eyes on me, but fuck him and his opinions; I watch that ass as it leaves anyway. Something’s flipped in that girl since I lost my shit, and damned if I know what it is. Nobody can simply turn a light on when they’re as dark as we are. She’s testing me—has to be. Especially with that fucking clothing and makeup. Can’t tell me she needs to get that prettied up just to hang around in a place like this. Only the property girls get dressed up nice, makeup and all, every day.
Unless . . . .
Don’t say it, fucker.
Maybe she is . . . .
Abbey wouldn’t be that stupid.
Each to their own . . . .
She wouldn’t be turning tricks for these boys—not when she shies at the touch so easily.