My eyes snap open when I reach the part of the recurring nightmare where I always wake up, alone in bed or on the sofa in a cold sweat.
For the past three years, I’ve replayed that argument with Ellie over and over again in my mind, wondering what the fuck I could’ve done differently. I had no idea that by the time I decided to drag my sorry ass home that night that Ellie would be long gone. She just packed up all of her things in her car and left me.
It was a brutal argument, no doubt about it. But we had been married for two years. I thought we were strong enough to get through anything, especially another argument over money or our lack thereof. Guess I was wrong.
I had no idea she hated the idea of me forming another MC so much or that telling her I didn’t think I would ever leave town or be a father would be the final straw.
Boy, was I fucking wrong.
A clattering of pots or pans comes from my kitchen, telling me I’m not alone in my apartment. That’s probably what woke me up from my mid-day nap that followed my early-morning nap. Sleeping and drinking are pretty much the only things I’ve done these past two weeks or so.
Knowing better than to try and head into the kitchen before I’m clean and smelling decent, I go straight for the shower, washing quickly and then throwing on a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt that are now clean thanks to Lucy. Maybe I’m not all that pissed about Malcolm somehow strong-arming her into being my housekeeper slash cook.
When I walk into the living room, I have to do a double take at the back of the girl standing in my kitchen. Her hair is definitely blonder, so much so that she sort of looks like a mini-Ellie. I’ve always had a thing for blondes…
Shaking those thoughts from my head, I ask her, “What time is it?” since I don’t have a clue and there are no clocks on the wall. My microwave has been blinking twelve o’clock for years.
“It’s almost five,” Lucy replies without looking at me, focused on the task in front of her, running a pizza cutter through the crust of a smoking pie that is only slightly black around the edges. “Did you have a late night?”
“Nope. Just nothing better to do.”
When she turns around with sauce and cheese dripping from the cutter, I notice she’s wearing a white, see-through dress that clearly shows a black bikini underneath. “I’m going swimming after dinner if you want to come.”
Our apartment complex has an outdoor pool, but I don’t think I’ve been in it more than three or four times in all the years I’ve lived here. In the summer, it’s always packed with residents and their friends.
“No thanks,” I tell her. Going over to the cabinet, I grab two plates while studying her. “Did you do something to your hair?”
“Oh, yeah! Jetta just colored it for me and added in some highlights.”
“Jetta?” I repeat. “You know Jetta?”
“I didn’t until earlier today.” Washing her hands in the sink and drying them on a towel, she turns to me and says, “We met on the stairs when she brought you that big plate of brownies.” Lucy nods over to the bar counter where there’s a huge plate covered by aluminum foil.
“Was she planning on everyone in the building having a brownie?”
“Nope, just for you! Although she did say I could help myself to them,” Lucy replies. “That was really nice of her. She mentioned something about owing you…”
When she leaves the sentence hanging in the air, I know she’s waiting for me to provide details as we take our plates to the small table and sit down across from each other. Never gonna happen.
“If she says so,” I respond with a shrug, refusing to go into details. The last thing I’ll ever do is spill my guts about the Dirty Aces’ business to some random girl I barely know. But somehow, she seems to know a lot about me. “How did you know to talk to Malcolm about me the other day?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” Lucy asks, freezing with a slice of pizza halfway to her mouth.
“He said you showed up at the pool hall looking for him to talk about me.”
“I went to the pool hall because I knew the place was connected to the Dirty Aces and I had seen your cut…”
“That’s what Malcolm said too, about you putting together our association because you had seen the back of my cut up on the roof the other night. I may have been drunk off my ass, but I know for a fact that I wasn’t wearing my cut that night. I haven’t put it on in weeks.”
“Oh, well, I’m just good at finding things out about people online.”
“Must be since you didn’t even know my name. We had never met before.”
“Right, I didn’t know your name, but it’s not that hard to do a reverse search from someone’s address to match them up with a name.”
“How did you know which apartment was mine?”
“You live right above me!”
“Hmm,” I mutter since there are still a lot of questions up in the air.
“So, I think I’m gonna get going, get in some pool laps and get some sun before it sets,” Lucy says when she suddenly gets to her feet without finishing a slice of pizza. Dumping the leftovers in the trash, she takes her plate to the sink to rinse it like she’s in a hurry to get away from this conversation.
“What about the dishes?” I ask since I didn’t ask the questions with the intention of running her off before she could finish eating. She
