Little Memphis Read online

  “Why?” I grunt.

  “I’ll never remember. Besides, it’s a little excessive.”

  “I’ll call you every hour then.”

  Shay smiles wider. “Will we talk every hour or will you just ask if I’m dead then hang up once you get your answer?”

  I lean over and kiss her forehead. Her hair smells so good. I want it spread out across my pillows while I move inside her. I can barely sit still with my cock so hard.

  “I should get a room at the hotel, so you can spend your breaks with me.”

  Shay loses her smile. “No.”

  I run my fingers over her thigh. “I could help you count toilet paper rolls. Even take luggage to rooms for late night guests. How does that sound?”

  “You’re being weird.”

  “Is it weird to crave you?”

  Shay grins. “Yes. You’re weird.”

  I roll my eyes. “Fuck you for being addictive.”

  “I’m sorry my pussy is so addictive. Maybe there’s a twelve step program to help you.”

  Laughing, I rest my arm around her shoulders. “I like when you tease me. I also hate it. I can’t tell if that makes you complicated or me?”

  “Definitely you. I never know what you’ll say or do next. Since I’ve known you a couple weeks, I should totally understand you by now.”

  Shay finishes eating and leans back against me. “Should I really be worried about my safety at work? Jeff is there.”

  “Jeff is fine, but he’s not me.”

  “Who is?” she murmurs, straddling one of her long legs over mine.

  “After I drop you off, I’m calling you and you’re picking up and I’ll say something inappropriate and you’ll play cold. Then I’ll hang up and we’ll do it again in an hour.”

  Shay rests her head against my chest. “Dinner was really nice and the mash potatoes were the best I’ve had since my grandma died. Thank you.”

  The sincerity in her voice makes my chest hurt. This moment right now with Shay is real in a way most things for me aren’t. I hate the feeling, but I’m not ready to give her up. I’ll walk away soon, but not yet.

  19

  Shay

  Wrong Number

  My job isn’t suited for people who like action. I’ve had three guests check in during my shifts. Jeff handled the first two while I was allowed to help the third. Otherwise, I spend my evenings sitting by the phone in case a guest needs something. The only time I’m alone is when Jeff takes his breaks, uses the restroom, or goes for a midnight meal.

  Normally, he sits in the nearby lounge and watches TV while I play games on my phone. Whenever Jeff is away, I’m on alert. The front doors could open, allowing a scary fucker to walk right into the hotel.

  On my first day, I was instructed if I felt threatened to retreat into the office, lock the door, and call 911. The door isn’t strong enough to hold back a determined freak and the cops are obscenely slow to respond to calls. No, if the shit hit the fan, I plan to run out the back door and keep going.

  Ford makes me nervous with talk of hourly calls. By the time Jeff leaves for his meal, I’m on edge and ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Maybe this is why I react so slowly when the door opens and a dark haired woman enters with a kid on her hip and three more following close behind.

  “Is Jeff here?” she asks.

  Surveying the area outside for trouble following the woman, I shake my head. “He’s at dinner.”

  She sighs then hushes the whining kids. “You’re the new girl, right? Shauna?”

  “Shay.”

  “Sorry, I’m bad with names. I’m Bebe. I work in the cleaning crew.”

  “What do you need with Jeff?” I ask when she stares at me with her big brown eyes.

  “Look, I know the hotel isn’t full most weekdays. When I have trouble at home, Jeff lets me stay here with the kids.”

  “What kind of trouble?” I ask, studying the quiet night again.

  “It’s complicated. I live with these girls and they have customers over and I can’t keep the kids in the house. Get it?”

  I look at the baby boy in her arms then at the sleepy kids. I don’t know if Bebe is playing me, but I can’t send kids out into a cold night.

  “Yes, I get it. Is there a particular room you stay in?”

  “One of the back rooms on the first floor. That way, if the kids cry, they don’t bother anyone.”

  Handing her a keycard for a room in an empty hall, I notice Bebe looks flustered. I think she’s embarrassed more than anything.

  “Thanks,” she says. “Jeff will tell you I’m cool when he gets back.”

  Bebe hauls the toddler and a diaper bag along with corralling the three small ones.

  “I’ll help you get the door open,” I say, even though leaving the front desk is a big no-no.

  Bebe smiles when I take the diaper bag. She has a sweet smile and I want her to like me. It’s dumb, but I never had girlfriends in Hawthorne.

  Once I open the door, the kids run inside. They check everything out while I set the bag and keycard on the dresser. After I bring her a crib, I head for the door.

  “I’ll check on you when Jeff gets back.”

  Back at the front desk, I’m paranoid someone came in while I was gone. I study the security feeds, finding nothing besides a quiet night and hotel.

  When Jeff returns smelling like Taco Bell, I explain about Bebe and he nods.

  “Her roommates are hookers. She brings the kids here when they have an orgy at the house,” he says, sitting in the lounge and turning on the TV. “I’ll watch the front, if you want to go do girl bonding.”

  I ought to be offended, but I’m mostly bored. Helping Bebe sounds like more fun than hanging around in the front.

  Bringing a few sodas, towels, and blankets with me to the room, I knock once before Bebe peeks out, looking freaked. I instantly get freaked too.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, hurrying inside.

  “Yeah, I hate being out at night.”

  I find the two older kids in one bed and the toddler in the crib. They’re all awake and watching Bob the Builder. The fourth girl is in the second bed, watching us.

  “That’s my baby,” Bebe says, locking the door behind us. “Tallulah is almost four.”

  I look at the long dark haired girl. “She’s beautiful.”

  Her anxiety easing away, Bebe smiles. “You just moved to Little Memphis, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say, standing by the mini-fridge. “Do you need anything?”

  “Not really. Well, adult companionship would be nice.”

  I sit into a nearby chair. “How long have you worked here?”

  “A year,” Bebe says, turning off the overhead light. She sits on the bed and her daughter crawls next to her. “Lula’s dad paid the bills until he went to prison. I moved in with Perri and Flora who work at night. We watch each other’s kids. Normally, it’s easy peasy, but not always like tonight.”

  I want to ask why she lives with two prostitutes. The question will sound judgmental. Besides, those two prostitutes are moms to the small children. Before I say anything rude or stupid, my phone vibrates in my pocket.

  Seeing Ford’s number, I answer with, “Still alive.”

  “I’m doing you doggy-style in just a few hours, darling. I hope you’re ready to wiggle your ass for me.”

  “Sorry. Wrong number,” I say then hang up.

  I’m giggling like a nerd when my gaze meets Bebe’s.

  “Boyfriend?”

  “I don’t know if the boyfriend label applies. More like a guy I spent one night with.”

  “What’s his name?” she asks, giving me a curious grin.

  Around us, the kids’ squirming slows as they doze. Peeking at the toddler in the crib, I find him asleep with his thumb stuck in his little mouth. Most of my life, I spent fearing babies, knowing they could ruin a woman’s life. Of course, my fears came from years of my grandma warning me not to turn out like my mom.
Now I imagine having a kid of my own before shutting down the dream the second I consider the baby daddy.

  “Ford Reed,” I mumble, still watching the sleeping baby. When I look back at Bebe, she’s playing with Lula’s hair and studying me. “What? Do you know him?”

  Assuming she’s one of his many conquests, I’m relieved when Bebe shakes her head. “I’ve heard of him and his brother. Most people in Little Memphis know to stay out of their way. They work for Trigger and the club. Lula’s dad worked for them too before he went to jail.”

  “I don’t know anything about the club. Nothing important anyway. Ford’s been good to me. Like he handled a guy that bothered me one night. Even knowing Ford isn’t boyfriend material, I can’t complain about anything. He’s also really good in bed.”

  I feel like a douche to talk sex in front of the kids. Noticing my embarrassment, Bebe grins.

  “No worries. They’re sleeping and they wouldn’t get F U C K talk anyway.”

  “Have you lived in Little Memphis your whole life?” I ask.

  “No. I lived with my weird A S S uncle as a teenager then came back to take care of my mom when she got sick. I F U C K E D up by being with a guy like Howie, but I don’t regret having Lula. After he went to prison, I decided to stay in Little Memphis because I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “Is your mom still around?”

  Bebe shakes her head. “She lived a painful F U C K I N G life. Death was a relief.”

  A quiet melancholy comes over the hotel room while Calilou plays and the children sleep. I think to ask why Bebe spells her cuss words and if she thinks I should too. At least in front of the kids. I doubt I’ll remember to do it though, so I don’t ask.

  “My housemates are good moms,” Bebe says after a while. “Jeff probably told you what they do and you probably think that makes them bad moms, but they’re not. They’re good F U C K I N G people, but that work is all they know. It’s what their moms did. Aunts and sisters too. It runs in their family. Mine too.”

  She holds my gaze, daring me to react. I want Bebe to like me, but I don’t like being challenged.

  “I used to strip. Shit happens.”

  Bebe gives me a little grin. “I make so much less than my housemates. If I followed in the family business, I could work a few nights a week and make twice as much as I do now.” She looks down at her daughter asleep on her lap. “The money might be better, but I don’t want Lula to make her money that way, so I’ll clean F U C K I N G toilets.”

  “My grandparents were better off than my mom turned out. I always heard each generation is supposed to improve on the last one. The Thompsons didn’t do that. Most of the people in my family seem to have taken a step back. All I can do is try to move forward and not make their mistakes. It’s all you can do too. Besides, there’s no shame in cleaning toilets. People are so happy when they walk into a clean room. You do that for them. I just hand them a keycard.”

  “Yeah, I bring F U C K I N G sunshine into people’s lives.”

  We laugh, waking Tallulah slightly. The little girl rolls over and mumbles before returning to sleep. Once she’s quiet again, Bebe reaches for the remote and changes the channel to a Family Guy rerun. I turn my chair around and watch the show with her.

  Hanging out with Bebe is comfortable. Since the front desk is a dead zone, I remain with her until the end of the episode. While she crawls into bed, I leave her to sleep while I finish up my shift.

  Soon, Ford calls me again. This time, I pretend I don’t speak English. He growls then hangs up on me. Giggling at his anger, I’m certain the punishment will be worth it.

  20

  Ford

  Shiny New Toy

  Pax hates playing pool. He pretends he doesn’t, but I know the pissy look in his bright blue eyes. Breaker doesn’t know the look and keeps thinking Pax is really into the game. I watch them both and feel like an old man surrounded by young stupid people.

  “Bam!” Breaker yells, pointing at my brother. “I kicked your ass, man.”

  “I’m kicking your ass for real,” Pax growls.

  “Don’t cry, bitch. Everyone loses sometimes. You just do it more often than most.”

  Pax takes a step towards Breaker who laughs wildly. Frowning at my club brother, I feel sorry for his fucking kids. The guy is nuts after a single beer.

  Pax wants to get Breaker’s annoying focus off him, so he does what anyone would in his position.

  “Ford is hooked on Lucky’s bastard daughter. Might be in love. It’s pretty gross.”

  Breaker turns to me and laughs. “Ford is whipped. Finally! I wonder how long it’ll be before I can beat you at arm wrestling?”

  “How the fuck are you going to beat me? You’re married with kids, making you beyond whipped.”

  “I’ve adapted to having baggage. It’s new for you. Yeah, it’ll distract you and I’ll win.”

  “He has a point,” Pax says, giving me a mocking open-mouth grin.

  Ignoring their taunting, I take my shot. The ball makes contact and hits the second ball perfectly, yet doesn’t roll into the hole.

  “Baggage will throw off a man’s game,” Breaker says, bouncing around like a stupid kid.

  “Are you on smack?” I mutter. “What the fuck are you jumping around for?”

  “Just thinking about your young pussy. Tell me about Lucky’s kid. I couldn’t go to the barbecue, so I didn’t check her out. I bet she’s sweet. Does she taste good, Ford?”

  Before realizing I’m moving, I have Breaker pinned against the wall. He’s startled by my attack while Pax laughs hysterically.

  “Cool it, man,” Breaker says in a small voice. “It’s me. I was just playing.”

  “You need to watch your fucking mouth or I’ll sew it shut then tear you a new one. Got it, asshole?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t mean nothing about it. I got an old lady, remember?”

  Even stepping back and giving him a nod, I want to smash his face in. Pax brushes up behind me.

  “What brand of baby carriage should I get you, brother?” he whispers, still laughing.

  “Shut up, Pax.”

  “You get possessive fast,” he says, stepping back. “It’s a pretty look on you.”

  I take a swipe at him, but he ducks and walks to the bar. After I glance back at a still startled Breaker, I follow my brother and order myself a beer.

  “You need to chill.”

  “Shay is like Darby,” I mutter, angry at myself for going off on Breaker. “Even if she’s no one’s old lady, she deserves to be treated with fucking respect.”

  “That’s cool. I like when you go all knight and shining armor. It warms my fucking heart.”

  Taking a swipe at him again, I only manage to slap his shoulder before he ducks and runs across the bar. Pax is like a fucking kid on Christmas whenever he sees a chance to mess with me. Of course, I don’t blame him. When he’s in a pouty mood, I love shitting on him too.

  While I waste time until I can pick up Shay, Pax grows more obnoxious. He becomes very interested in how I call every hour to check on her.

  “Is she a fragile flower?” he whispers in my ear. “A child without a papa?”

  By the time Shay pretends she doesn’t speak English and hangs up on me, I’m ready to pound Pax’s face. He yawns and leans his head against my shoulder.

  “Will you still love me when Shay owns your heart and expects valentines and other shit?”

  I frown at him, ready to punch him in the face. Yet despite being tired as hell, Pax remains at the bar with me. Instead of pounding him, I laugh at his expression. Now he’s frowning.

  “You’re jealous of a girl I banged for a single night. What an insecure little douche.”

  “Tonight will be two in a row, turd. For you, that’s commitment with a capital C. Soon, I’ll be tripping over rattles and shit.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” I say, patting him on the back. “Once she’s popping out kids, we won’t be living with you anym
ore.”

  Pax’s glare makes me laugh harder. “You’re not capable of loving some chick.”

  “Not a problem,” I say, trying not to laugh at his expression. “I like Shay. I’m also sick of fucking lame chicks like Maggie or worse going to bed alone. Let me enjoy my new toy, will ya?”

  Pax nods. “Isn’t it time for you to pick up the doll?”

  Checking my watch, I nod. “I’ll walk you out, so you don’t get scared of the dark.”

  “Turd.”

  Once outside, I smack him on the back of the head as he grabs a handful of gravel to throw at me. Threats are made and guns pulled. Since I’m going to be late, I allow Pax to live. He responds with a middle finger then roars away.

  The night gets colder on the way to the hotel and is drizzling by the time I arrive. I plan to give Shay shit for her poor phone manners. I stop at the entrance, ready to go in for her. Instead, she hurries outside, wearing a big smile meant for me.

  Shay pats my hoodie. “You look like a little boy,” she says, kissing me quickly then hiding her hair with the cap.

  I don’t know what to say. Shay fucks with me constantly. When I expect hot, she runs cold. When I’m ready for cold, she goes blazing.

  I’d be pissed except she’s not playing me. This is just Shay, making her hotter and more infuriating. If she doesn’t know what she’ll do the next minute, how the hell can I?

  When waiting at a light, Shay leans forward and says over the engine’s roar, “I’ve never been fucked doggy-style. You’re helping me have another first.”

  Glancing at her over my shoulder, I frown. “What the hell are you doing to me? I’m trying to drive, but you have all my blood rushing to my cock.”

  “Oops,” she mutters, laughing against my back.

  “When we get to my place, I’m fucking you as a reward to my dick for making it wait. Then we’re sleeping so you’ll have the energy to fuck again tomorrow. I have the whole thing planned out.”

  “Control freak,” she giggles as the light changes.

  The rest of the drive to my house involves speeding and dodging traffic. My cock is rock hard and I can already picture Shay underneath me.

  It’s pouring when we get to my place and no hoodie or cap is keeping us dry. I park under the carport, help Shay off the bike, and run for the door. Holding her hand, I grab drinks from the fridge and hurry past Pax watching TV in the family room.