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  Sydney brings out the hamburgers and hot dogs for the grill. Her hair is up in a ponytail and she seems younger now. Almost innocent as she grins at her dad. She’s happy on this warm spring weekend. I’m happy too.

  Even in this dump of a trailer park with dirty kids running around and rednecks already drunk at four in the afternoon, I am Bo again. Not a number in the system or a last choice member of a motorcycle club. With Sydney, I’m a man with fate in his own hands for once.

  “I never was one for grilling,” Mike says as we sit in rusty lawn chairs. We eat our burgers and dogs along with the coleslaw Sydney made after our hour long morning roll in her bed. “It seems like a lot of work to get a couple of burgers. Still, it’s nice every once in awhile.”

  Sydney hands me a napkin as a not so subtle hint I have ketchup on my beard. She stares at the spot then lifts her gaze to meet mine. What I see in her eyes makes my chest hurt and I know I’m getting in too deep.

  “Snake’s not your real dad, right?” Mike asks after I clean my face. “Sorry to hear about your mother, by the way.”

  “My real dad was a trucker named Lucas Phelps. He disappeared when I was ten.”

  “Disappeared? Like ran off?”

  “Like killed to make room for the serpent who took up with my mom weeks later.”

  I don’t look at Sydney, but I feel her gaze on me. She feels sorry for me and I don’t like how I feel about wanting her pity. I shouldn’t give a shit what a club whore thinks. I shouldn’t care about her at all, but I do and it’s killing me to pretend otherwise.

  “Sorry to hear that,” Mike says after a little while.

  When I finally force myself to look at Sydney, I glare at her and hope she’ll keep her distance. She just smirks like she’s got my number. Feeling like a pimply-faced freak begging for the pretty girl to acknowledge him, I flip her off. Sydney laughs and my whole plan to be an asshole is over. She’s got a great laugh.

  “I always kinda knew what was going on,” I say, grinning at Sydney who moves her chair closer while still giggling about my attempts to intimidate her. “I mean I was ten and it seemed weird how my dad went missing then this scary fuck moved in. As I got older and understood the Gutters’s power in the Grove, I learned to accept shit.”

  “Not always though,” Sydney whispers. “Sometimes, you hope your dad knew it was coming and ran.”

  My smile fades and I stare at her while she holds my gaze. I finally nod, admitting a fantasy I held close to my heart all my life.

  “Are you a mind reader?”

  “I would hope for the same thing. Even though I saw my mom die, I still dreamed it was a mistake.”

  “How’d she die?” I finally ask after days of avoiding the topic.

  Sydney glances at her dad who loses his smile. When she returns her gaze to me, I know she wants to tell me even if it’ll upset Mike. She needs to share with me and I know the feeling. I keep having the urge to tell her shit from my childhood like we’re BFF now.

  “She was pregnant with my little sister when she went into cardiac arrest. It was really sudden. One minute, she was dressing for Halloween. Then, she was gone.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Sydney took care of things after her mom passed,” Mike says, sounding tired now. “She grew up fast.”

  “Explains how she became a club whore,” I mutter, angry for some reason. “Taking care of daddy’s problems.”

  Sydney doesn’t get mad. She stares at me like I’m weird and hopes I don’t infect her with my bullshit.

  “Sydney’s a good girl,” Mike says, standing up to go inside. “Better than either of us deserve.”

  “He’s right,” Sydney sighs after her dad’s gone. “I’m too good for you.”

  Grinning, I nudge her foot. “I’m not looking for a girlfriend. I just want a warm bed and wet pussy.”

  Once again, Sydney refuses to react to my nasty mood. She raises her arms over her head and glances down at her tits. I follow her gaze then squint at her.

  “Are you teasing me?”

  “I’m ignoring you while thinking about later when you’re in a good mood and naked under me. Man, I’m going to fuck you good. Break your hips, bitch.”

  Laughing, I feel the tension leave me. “Sorry about your mom.”

  “Sorry about your dad. Do you ever thinking of making his killer bleed?”

  I’m surprised by the directness of her question. Sydney stands up and adjusts her chair so she’s sitting in front of me. She places her feet in my lap and smiles.

  “Will you rub my ugly feet?”

  “What do I get?”

  “What do you want?”

  “Butt or mouth.”

  Sydney bursts into laughter. “Every time I think you’re sweet, you say something like that.”

  Rolling my eyes, I still smile. “I’ll let you choose.”

  “Butt. Less effort on my part.”

  Now, I’m laughing. “Never thought about it that way, but I guess you can just lay there while I do the work.”

  “No guessing about it,” she says, rubbing her foot against my crotch. “I’m not helping if it’s butt action. I can’t even promise I’ll put much effort if I have to suck you off.”

  We’re both laughing now and I rub her fat little toes.

  “This is why I’m no one’s favorite.”

  I run my thumb along the arch of her foot and work a moan out of her. “I’m glad. Those fuckers don’t deserve you.”

  Sydney’s gaze is soft as she watches me. Feeling something happening in these next few minutes, I’m both excited and terrified.

  “You’re so damn handsome,” she whispers. “I feel like a stupid girl around you.”

  “You hide it well,” I say even while she makes me feel like a stupid boy.

  Sydney looks nervous and a little sad. She feels the walls between us coming down and we both know it’s a mistake.

  “Is there something you liked doing from before prison. Something we could do now that you’re out?”

  I grin at her for even thinking to ask the question. Typical Sydney always makes me feel special despite what an asshole I am to her.

  “My dad used to take me and Cal camping. Nothing fancy, just a tent and a campfire. Usually did it at the nearby Murray State Park. You ever camp?”

  Her smile is the answer I’m hoping for and she doesn’t disappoint. Sydney and I make plans to enjoy something I haven’t done since my dad’s death. Camping will only feel right because she’ll be at my side. Once again, I hate myself for wanting her more than is healthy, but there’s no denying the feeling anymore.

  Chapter Ten

  Bo

  Camping for Dummies

  Sydney lathers bug repellent on her soft skin as I finish setting up the tent. While I need to focus, she’s smiling at me. Damn if her smile doesn’t blind me to the rest of the world.

  Once she’s wiped the bug crap off her hands, Sydney works at starting a fire in the pit. I like how her ass swings back and forth as she bends over to work with the kindling.

  “Need help?” I ask, pressing against her.

  “Have at it, stud.”

  Rolling my eyes, I know she’s just being lazy. I don’t mind since the camping thing was my idea.

  “It’s pretty here,” she says, sitting on a blanket. “I’ve never been to this park before.”

  “This part of the park is nicer. The ranger guy is nearby, so the junkies hang out on the other end. This is the family side.”

  Watching me start the fire, Sydney says nothing. Her silence feels nice. Comfortable like a friend, instead of a girl looking to impress me. The chicks I dated in high school would babble in this situation to keep me focused on them. Sydney never pretends she loves camping. In my heart, I believe she doesn’t pretend with me about anything.

  Once the fire’s roaring, I join her on the blanket and we stare at the flames.

  “Did you ever want to
be anything more than a waitress?” I ask, leaning back and resting my head on a backpack.

  Glancing at me, Sydney gives her rarely used frown. “What’s wrong with being a waitress?”

  “Nothing, I guess,” I say, patting the ground next to me.

  Sydney curls up against my side and smiles. “I always wanted to be a waitress.”

  Thinking to say she’s aiming low, I decide to keep my mouth shut. Sydney builds me up all the time, so I plan to be nice for a single night even if it kills me. I suspect it probably will.

  We rest like that for a while until I’ve gone too long without food. A few scorched hot dogs and three beers later, I forget my plan to be nice.

  “Who’s the worst fuck in the club?”

  Sydney rolls her eyes. “You’re such a gossip. It’s not your brother, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

  “Too bad,” I say, really wishing it was Cal. “So who is it then?”

  “What do I get if I tell you?”

  Grinning, I lean down and suck at her lower lip. Sydney’s eyes go soft and dreamy at my touch. We should just crawl into the tent and fuck until sleep takes us.

  Instead, I feel uneasy in the park with a beautiful girl while knowing strung out fuckers might be watching. Glancing around, I don’t see anyone in the tree line, but decide I’m done with the beer for the night. If someone comes looking for trouble, I need to have my head on straight.

  “What’s wrong?” Sydney asks, reading me like usual.

  “This park isn’t safe.”

  “Nowhere in the Grove is safe,” she whispers. “The place is falling apart. The Gutters suck at running shit. Soon, everyone will be so strung out that no one will go to work and make money to pay for all the drugs. Then what?”

  “It wasn’t like this when I was growing up. The Grove had its bad parts, but it was also middle class. Clean and safe mostly. When Dad brought me and Cal out here, we didn’t worry about junkies robbing us. We just worried about raccoons eating our food.”

  “You should leave,” she whispers so quietly that I barely hear her. “Nothing’s keeping you here.”

  Frowning, I can’t believe she has the balls to say those last four words. She knows very well why I won’t leave even if I won’t admit it. I guess she can’t admit it either.

  “Let’s get back to who’s the worst fuck in the club.”

  Sydney grins. “Do you mean who comes the fastest or has the smallest dick? Or just the guy I hated fucking most?”

  “All of the above.”

  “Fine. Joe, Joe, and Kelly.”

  After taking a minute to assign the names to the bad sex claims of shame, I frown. “Why Kelly?”

  “He’s mean,” she says, losing all the joy in her eyes. “He killed my cat too.”

  “What the fuck?”

  Sydney sits up and wraps her arms around her body. “I had a Juliet to go with my Romeo. Kelly snapped her neck when she climbed on the bed while he was fucking me.”

  “Evil freak,” I hiss, sitting up next to her. “You should run too.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Your dad…”

  “Don’t,” she says in a tone that stops me. “I don’t talk shit about your parents, so don’t do it about mine.”

  Even wanting to push Sydney, I keep my mouth shut. Her expression is too closed off and I hate when she hides from me.

  “Sorry about your cat,” I say, leaning back. “Were the cats in love?”

  Sydney glances back at me and I see her slowly lowering the shield she puts up to protect herself.

  “No. They were brother and sister. She babied him and he knocked her off the couch.”

  Grinning, I pat next to me and she returns to my side. “I never liked cats, but yours is pretty cool. Well not at night, but he’s less work than a dog.”

  “You are very lazy,” she teases as her hand slides under my tee. “Not in bed though. You always give your fucking a hundred percent.”

  “A guy has to know his priorities.”

  Sydney smiles for me and I forget about the past. The future disappears too. There’s just her smile and those exploring fingers. Life isn’t easy, but it feels pretty damn perfect at that moment.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bo

  Don’t Cross a Gutter

  Cal can’t tan. His skin is always pale, pink and flaking, or beat red from a burn. From his crap father, he also inherited a gut despite his buff body and those beady rat eyes. I find him burned and beady-eyed when I arrive for some kind of Gutters meeting.

  Not wanting to be here, I’m nervous this get-together will lead to me dead in a ditch. While I think to ask Cal if I’m in danger, I doubt he’d tell me the truth. The fucker didn’t care when I was in prison and never told me Mom had died. No, Cal will not only let me walk into a deathtrap, but he’ll willingly pull the trigger if Johnny asked.

  “Where you been?” Cal asks, without pretending to be concerned.

  “Turns out sleeping in a club whore’s bed is better than your lumpy couch.”

  “Don’t get too attached to the first cunt you have. Looks weak, man. Try out a few dozen. Spread it around or you look soft.”

  Staring into his rat eyes, I think how nice it would be to make him bleed. “You go six years without pussy then tell me if the same pussy for a week makes you feel weak. Feels good actually. Feels like I get laid every night. I also don’t sleep on your shitty couch.”

  Cal smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “A chick from high school asked about you. She said she saw you riding around the other day and it got her wet. I told her you’d have dinner with her tomorrow. You’re welcome. Now, stop eyeballing me or I’ll cut those big blue orbs out of your fucking face.”

  “Orbs? You sound like our old English teacher. Pussy.”

  Cal smiles for real then glances at the approaching Harleys. “Becks will meet you at Longhorn’s bar. You remember Becks?”

  “No and I don’t want to date a random reject from your fuck pile.”

  “Last I checked, asshole, you were fucking a reject from everyone’s fuck pile.”

  Shrugging, I struggle not to punch him for talking shit about Sydney. I know it’s reckless to show I’m into her, so I act like his words don’t matter. In my gut, I know if I admit wanting Sydney that Cal will decide to fuck her again. I don’t care if she’s a damn club whore. I refuse to share her.

  Johnny and Snake park their Harleys nearby. Kelly and a few of his friends arrive next. I notice how the older guys stroll over slowly like they need to finish talking before reaching me. Feeling the shift in the air as they approach, I close off everything inside me. Like in prison, I reveal nothing.

  “Freedom suiting you?” Johnny asks me.

  “Pussy and pizza, how can I complain?”

  He smiles easy enough then glances at Snake who gives me a big grin like he’s a proud papa. In my head, I imagine killing them all. On the outside, I show them nothing.

  “Fucker,” Kelly says, glaring at the store we’re standing in front of. “Sneaky fucker.”

  Kelly is blond like his mom with his dad’s gray eyes. He’s a decent looking guy and big as a truck. In high school, he was always talking too loud and interrupting teachers. He fucked every chick in the school by the time we graduated including those girls who didn’t want him. Kelly never believed in hearing no.

  Johnny pats his son on the back like the owner of a violent dog trying to keep it on a leash. They take the lead as we walk into the gift shop. The place is empty except for the middle aged bald guy behind the counter. His expression tells me he’s into more than personalized coffee cups and key chains. He owes the Gutters money.

  I learn his name is Howard and he deals for the club. I suspect he’s a pothead because he’s so calm as Kelly grabs him by the neck and pushes him out the backdoor. Even knowing the club is powerful, I’m shocked to watch them beat Howard in the parking lot where anyone can see. Johnny and Snake stand with their arms cr
ossed as Kelly and another young guy I don’t know punch then kick the pothead into the asphalt.

  They aren’t here for their money. The Gutters know he’s used it for his own habit. This is payback. The only reason so many guys came along was to watch. To belong in their world, I must watch without reacting in horror even after one of Howard’s teeth drops near my shoe. I glance down at the bloody mass then return my gaze to where a laughing Kelly stomps his boot down on Howard’s broken face.

  “You’ll meet Becks for dinner,” Cal says softly. “Falling for a club whore is amateur shit. Don’t be that guy.”

  Giving him a head nod, I understand Cal does care if I live or die. He won’t take a bullet for me or shed a tear if I die. However, he knows what the Gutters are saying about me and this is his solution to their worries. As much as I don’t want to meet panty-wetting Becks for dinner, I’ll blow off Sydney to keep from ending up like what’s left of Howard.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bo

  No Good Deed Unpunished

  A decent guy would have told Sydney right away about the date with Becks. I even considered doing just that when I arrived at the trailer the night before. Instead, the thing with Howard left me rattled and Sydney is the only one capable of calming me. She never asked why I was upset because she’s smart enough to understand. When I needed her to make Howard’s gurgled cries fade from my mind, I didn’t have the balls to piss her off.

  The next morning, we play in bed. What starts as leisurely and fun turns to hard and fast fucking. The idea of meeting Becks freaks me out and I need to claim Sydney first. Mostly, I’m afraid to stop because Sydney isn’t a pushover. She’s gentle and patient, but I know the girl is hiding a temper. I worry how she’ll react to learning about Becks.

  “Do you want to get burgers or pizza tonight?” Sydney asks from the kitchen.

  Preparing for her to freak out, I say the words. “I can’t. I have a date.”

  Sydney doesn’t scream or throw anything. With my back to her, she can easily hit me with a frying pan or another heavy object. I wait, but nothing comes. I turn to find her crying silently.

  “Don’t,” I say standing up. “We’re not dating and I don’t have to feel guilty for this shit. You’re a club whore, dammit. You’ve fucked everyone in the club and I’m just the latest. Don’t make me feel bad.”