Grinning, I love the idea of my nephews chilling in their own area like little tough guys. Calmer now, I glance at where Goliath sits alone. I don’t know if he’s sleeping or looking down at his phone or meditating. Doesn’t matter, I guess. He’s not mine and never will be. I’ve been building up a fantasy based on my insecurities. After months of filling my head with bullshit, I need to flush it away and start fresh.
THE GOLIATH
Lunch with Shelby left me feeling fucked up. She’s messing with my head, leaving me unsure about shit. What’s her con? I don’t get her. Women in the past—Becklyn and Jaymes—weren’t faking their bullshit. I just missed what was right in front of my fucking face. I did that. Not them. They weren’t confusing. I was just confused. Is that what’s happening with Shelby? Am I too fucking stupid to get what she’s doing?
That evening, I end up back at the Saloon. I’m bored at the trailer. I already suffered through a visit to my mom’s this week. I ain’t got any friends, and I never want any girlfriends. There’s nothing to fucking do except show up at the clubhouse, play pool, watch sports, and get drunk. Shit, I can’t even get sucked off anymore because Shelby scared Dione, and now the sweet butts are terrified of her wrath.
Inside the Saloon, I spot the new guy from River’s circle. Hugh is Utah’s boyfriend. Or lover. I don’t know how it works. They aren’t hanging out together tonight. I rarely see them sitting in the same place, but everyone knows they fuck. Not that Utah has many options around Shasta. If he wants a better selection of men, he needs to drive to Lexington.
No way would Fuse let Utah’s fuck-buddy into the club. He hated the bald gay biker, always giving him the shit assignments. Yet he offered Utah a patch. That was classic Fuse. He wanted muscle, really scary fuckers. Then he treated those same terrifying bastards like his bitches. I told him to put Utah in charge of the whores at the trailer parks. Anybody else would be tempted to fuck those girls.
Nomp. Instead of listening to me, Fuse said a gay guy wouldn’t take the job seriously because there was no sex in it for him. Typical bullshit. The asshole refused to listen to me. I was only the SGT-at-Arms. It was my job to watch out for the men. I reported back to Fuse about who was a lazy fuck or was dipping into the product. I gave him intel on who was showing promise and who needed an ass-kicking. But did our fucking president respond with any brains? Fuck no. He based his choices on who kissed his ass best.
“Are you going to punch me?” Hugh asks when I stand next to his table, thinking about how I got screwed by Fuse. “Because I’m not okay with that.”
“Shut up,” I grumble and shove my body into the booth, nearly tearing the seat off the hinges. “I’m not punching anyone.”
“Good to know,” he says and tips his beer before taking a swig.
“What are you doing by yourself?”
Hugh is a smaller guy, not even six feet tall and kinda skinny. His pale blond hair is tied back in a short ponytail, and his blue eyes sparkle with amusement at my question. “I enjoy the ambiance.”
“Huh?” I mutter.
“River insists I spend at least three nights here. This is one of those nights.”
“How come?”
“He figures if I had a choice that I wouldn’t pick you fuckers to spend time with?”
“Then why wear the patch?”
“I like money. I’m very greedy. Why do you wear the patch?”
Shrugging, I admit, “Out of habit. Been wearing a patch since I was seventeen.”
“My reason sounds better.”
“How come you’re not with your boyfriend?”
Hugh’s icy blue eyes go frigid immediately. If he were a chick, he’d likely be hissing at me right now. Instead, he puts his beer on the table and places his hands flat next to it.
“I’m here for work, not to date.”
“But those guys are getting sucked off,” I say and jut my thumb at the table where Chase and Pom-Pom get attention from the sweet butts.
“Are you asking why I don’t have Utah suck me off in public? Would claiming I was shy be enough of an answer?”
“Sure,” I say and rub my head roughly. “You know Shelby, right?”
“Everyone knows Shelby. She threw a parade for herself last year, waving from