Cruz (Dark and Dirty Sinners' MC #5) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,22
interested in watching the show, I recognized that the club snatch weren’t doing much for me anymore.
Been there.
Done that, and watching her storm off was one big reminder that my dick was firmly in the Indiana vice.
The thought of the last time she’d exploded around my cock had me grimacing a little as I finished up changing the keg behind the bar. While beer wasn’t a popular choice for most of the bikers, we still went through a keg a day. As well as copious amounts of vodka and tequila.
As I finished up my inventory, made notes of which liquors I needed to re-stock, my cell buzzed.
The Killers, Mr. Brightside blared out and knowing who that ringtone belonged to, I hid my face as I dipped beneath the counter.
I reached for my cell and hit connect, lip curling at the voice I was about to hear.
Mommy Dearest.
Most people might dig receiving a call from their folks, but me? I hated it. My dad, well, he was okay. I quite liked him. He wasn’t too much of a dick, and he left me alone, gave me space. It helped that he was in Arizona, of course. Couldn’t get much more space between New Mexico and New Jersey, after all.
I knew why he’d moved though. Understood why he’d put distance between us.
After the divorce, Mom had been her usual insaniac self, and I couldn’t blame him for heading across the country. Not when, after he’d married and gotten my stepmom pregnant, Mom had taken to showing up at their house like some kind of fucking crazy person.
Which, of course, she was.
Mom’s obsession with finding out who had killed her father and bringing him to justice was the one driving force in her life. I wasn’t sure when she’d had time to get married and to pop me out, but she’d managed somehow. I was living proof of the fact she didn’t eat, breathe, and shit her father’s case.
“What do you want?” I rasped by way of a greeting.
“I need you to come visit me. This isn’t a secure line.”
I narrowed my eyes at the keg I’d only just changed, hoping that anyone in the vicinity would think I was having trouble with it. “I have no desire to come and see you.”
“Tough shit. You owe me.”
“I owe you nothing,” I snarled, even though as far as she still knew, that was a lie. Couldn’t make this look too easy, could I?
She fell silent, then she signed my death knell. “Your Prez will appreciate the heads’ up.”
Jaw clenching, I glowered at nothing because glowering was futile. Everything about Caroline fucking Dunbar was.
It was either her way or the highway.
“No wonder Dad divorced your ass and took you to the cleaners,” I rumbled.
When she hissed out a breath, I was surprised, like always, to learn that the divorce was still a touchy subject.
I wasn’t sure if Dad was the one who’d gotten away, or if he was simply a challenge. He’d betrayed her, so he deserved to have his life ruined.
That was how my mom worked.
Who had nemeses anymore?
Hadn’t they gone by the by in the days of Sherlock Holmes?
Well, apparently not for Caro Dunbar.
She had nemeses everywhere. Saw shadows at high fucking noon.
It was a wonder she kept her shit together enough to maintain her position at the FBI. Somewhere along the line, I figured she’d started screwing someone high-up to stay as a Special Agent. One who worked actual cases and wasn’t tied to a desk. But no one liked to think that kind of shit about their mom… Not even me.
Caro hadn’t been cruel. She hadn’t been vindictive. She’d fed me, made sure I went to school, but she just hadn’t been there.
So when I was sixteen? I’d done the exact same thing—I’d left for college and I’d done it with the hope of not looking back, but some of my worst choices led to my being tied to her in ways no man wanted.
My only consolation was that I hadn’t gone to jail thanks to her interference.
“Less talk of your father,” she sniped. “I wouldn’t have contacted you if I didn’t need to speak with you.”
“You always need to speak with me, and somehow, you never have anything to say.” I pursed my lips as I waited on her answer, but before I did, my cell buzzed with a message in a tone I’d set for Rex—the Prez. “I need to go.”