Leave a Trail (16 page)

It was a twin bed, only room for one. It had also been Daisy’s bed. There was no way she was going to sleep with Badger in that bed.

And she suspected Show knew that. Maybe even planned it. He gave her a look when he’d brought it in and set it up in the bedroom. That look said,
See? I told you I wasn’t getting out of the way
.

She hadn’t seen much of Show since he’d come up to talk to her that evening in the purple room. Nearly a week, now. It was like they were both keeping their distance. Adrienne had a sense that there might have been a scene between him and Shannon, because the day after she moved into the B&B, Shannon had asked outright whether Show had said something that made her feel unwelcome.

Yes, he had. Or—no. No, that wasn’t it. He’d made her feel like he was trying to parent her, that he was meddling unfairly, and
that
had been unwelcome. What she told Shannon, though, was that she loved Show, and he hadn’t done anything of the sort. Shannon had seemed sufficiently convinced, and Adrienne was glad. The last thing she wanted to do was put anything between them at all.

There was something between
her
and Show, though. Badger. And Show’s stubborn refusal to forgive him. Or just to let her make her own choice about him.

But when Show had parked his big pickup, loaded with furniture, she’d gone out to meet him. He’d reached out his huge arms and brought her close for a smothering hug, and she’d just melted and buried her face in his chest—or his stomach, more like. He was more than a foot taller than she was.

He kissed her head and set her back, taking her hands in his. “You got yourself a stubborn streak, little one.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Though she smiled up at him, his expression was serious. “Maybe so. On this, anyway. I’m not good with what you’re doin’, but it looks like you don’t care about that. I’m keeping my eye out, though. You come right to me if shit starts to go sideways, Adrienne. I’m not screwin’ around here.”

“So you can hurt him again? Kill him?”

“So I can protect you. He already hurt you. He’s a junkie. You think a week locked in a room makes that not true?”

“I think he deserves a second chance.” She took a breath and said something more. “I think something really terrible happened to him—and to you—and nobody will talk about it. I think everybody’s acting weird because of it, and you all deserve a second chance.”

She stopped and waited for his face to do that shuttering thing. But it didn’t. Instead, a small smile pushed the corners of his mouth up a little. “You’re an old soul, Adrienne. A real good girl. I don’t want you to lose that. If you stay here, get dragged into our shit, I’m afraid you will.”

All she could do was shrug. “I love him, Show. I have a lot of things to figure out, but not that. That I know.”

“He’s different, though. Not like he was.”

“Yeah. But he’s still Badger.”

“Christ.” He shook his head. “I’m not out of the way. I’m just making a little room. For
you
, not him. You understand?”

She hugged him again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, little one.” He squeezed her hard. “Okay, let’s get you set up.”

~oOo~

After everything was unloaded, Adrienne went out to the truck with Show. He gave her another long, hard hug. “You be careful. And you come to me. Right?”

“Right. But I won’t need to. He’s better. He loves me.”

With a long, deep breath and a longer sigh, Show shook his head and got into his truck.

When she got back into the main house, Beth was leaning against the front desk. She gave Adrienne an appraising look.

“That go okay? Show’s been kinda bristly lately. I’d say he don’t much like this plan of yours.”

“It’s fine. I’m all moved in, and Show and I are good.”

“Well, that’s fine, then. You want some lunch? I made chicken salad.”

“With the raisins and cashews?” Adrienne’s stomach rumbled approvingly.

“Only way I make it, cutie. And there’s fresh bread if you want a sandwich. Come on. You can help me plan the weekend breakfast.”

Living in the B&B was going to be pretty great.

~oOo~

After that nice lunch, Adrienne went back to her borrowed apartment and looked around. It wasn’t a big place—a galley kitchen with a bar counter for eating, a small sitting room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. Her dorm at Columbia had been about the same, except with extra bedrooms for her suitemates. But the scant few pieces of furniture she now had made it look palatial. It even echoed.

As much as she liked it here, it was really a short-term solution. The only entrance required passing through Shannon’s office, and she was right in the middle of the B&B’s hubbub, so it wasn’t a huge step forward in terms of privacy. But it gave her a minute to think. Until she had some kind of idea what she wanted—some kind of idea that went beyond the name
Badger
—a short-term solution was best.

There was a knock at the door. She crossed the room and opened it to find Badger himself, smiling sweetly at her. “Hey.” He stepped in, making her step backward, and put his hands on her waist, kicking the door closed as he came into the room. His mouth was on her fast and hard, and he pulled her close, his hands sliding under her top.

When she understood that she felt a little scared, she pushed at his shoulders and turned her head out of the kiss. “Badge—wait.” Heedless, he moved to nip at her throat. She tried again. “Badger, please.”

He stopped and lifted his head. “You okay?”

“Can we talk?”

When he nodded, she took his hand and led him to the loveseat.

“Is something wrong?” A deep crease furrowed his brow. Most of his bruising had healed, leaving faint traces of greyish-blue and green over his nose and under his eyes. He had a part through one eyebrow. A new scar. So many scars he had.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just…need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay. Did Show say something?”

“No. Or—yeah, but it was okay. He said he was making some room for us.”

Badger grinned. “That’s good. That’s great. So what’s wrong?”

She could feel her cheeks flame and knew that she was blushing. Embarrassment about that made her blush more. Badger cocked his head and brought a hand to her face, brushing his thumb over her hot cheek. “Babe?”

She liked that he’d starting calling her that. It felt possessive, in a good way. Like what they were doing was real. Finding courage in a deep breath, she said, “I’m…I’m kinda…um…I’m sore. I think I need a break.”

“What?” Realization dawned; it was like watching a movie on his face as it happened. “Oh. Oh, fuck.” He let go of her hand and stood.

“It’s okay, Badge. I’m okay. I’d just like to slow down a little. Please don’t be mad.”

Standing in front of her, he looked down. “Mad? I’m not mad—not at you. I’m mad at me. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

When he started to walk away, she reached out quickly and grabbed his hand. “Sit down, Badger. It’s okay. This is why I didn’t say something sooner. I didn’t want you to get upset.”

He sat, but he looked distraught. “Sooner? How long have you been hurting?”

Since they’d started, but she didn’t want to say that. Her silence, though, said it for her.

“Fuck.”

“I love what we do.
Really
love it. And it stops hurting in the middle, when…you know. But it’s a lot, and it’s new. I just need like a day off or something. But I want you with me. Is that okay? Would you stay even if we didn’t…?”

He nodded and pulled her close. “God, yes. I love you. I’m so sorry.” But she’d seen something in his eyes before he’d tucked her under his chin.

“Can I ask you something?”

His chin rubbed against her head as he nodded. “Sure.”

“Does sex help you?”

He went still for a couple of seconds before he responded. “What?”

There was some kind of danger in pursuing this topic, she knew. Not that he’d hurt her, but that he might pull away. But they had to talk. He was so tormented. Even though what they had was new, they had to talk about this. In fact, they had to talk
because
what they had was new. She didn’t want to start off by hiding and burying things. So she pushed gently on his chest and sat up.

“Does having sex help you not think about whatever you were on?”

“OxyContin is what I was on.”

She’d heard of it. “Okay. Does it help?”

“Are you asking me if I’m using you?”

“No, Badge. I don’t think that. I’m asking if it helps.”

“Yeah. It does. With you, it does. I don’t think about it as much when I’m with you. I don’t think about it at all when I’m inside you.” He slid his hand over her cheek and into her hair, and she leaned into his touch. “It’s just you. Being with you. What I did before, in the clubhouse, didn’t make me need it less. Only you do. But I don’t want you to think I’m using you.”

She kissed the heel of his hand. “I don’t. I want to help you.” Feeling herself blush again, she bent forward, nestling again on his chest, her hand resting at the top of his thigh. She could feel his erection against the side of her hand. “We could do other stuff until I feel better.” They hadn’t done any other stuff yet—just their intense coupling, over and over.

He cupped her face in his hands and lifted her head so he could look into her eyes. For the gajillionth time since the day she’d met him, she marveled at the beauty of his eyes—that ethereal pale green, with rays of blue and light gold from the pupil, and a thin rim of blue at the edge. They hardly looked real.

“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do, Adrienne.”

“I want to do everything.”

He laughed at that, his face finally relaxing. “Careful, babe. There’s a lot to do. Some of it’s pretty wild. I don’t even want to do everything.”

“Okay, well. I want to do a lot. I want to touch you and taste you all over.”

His smile faded right away, but his mouth stayed open. “Jesus.” He kissed her, and it was softer and less demanding than his kiss when he’d first come in. But it was deeper and more arousing to her, too. Because she wasn’t afraid. She put her hands on his belt buckle, and he groaned.

Just as she had his belt open and was working the button of his jeans, she felt a buzz under her arm, on his thigh. A second later, his phone rang.

He dropped his head. “Fuck. That’s the burner.” With obvious reluctance, he released her and pulled the offending device out of his pocket. She knew he had to answer; he’d been pulled away from her more than once over the years. Never in this particular situation, though.

“It’s Badge…yeah…on my way.” He ended the call and put his phone away. “I gotta go, babe. I’ll be back, though. Definitely.”

“Okay.” But she was worried about him. “Are you okay?”

“I am. You make me okay.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Len parked the club van in front of the high school. He and Badger got out, leaving their kuttes in the van, and walked through the front doors. Badger hadn’t been in this building since he’d graduated, but he still had the same kind of feeling, heavy in his gut, as they turned right and went into the administrative offices. Not that he’d gotten in much trouble—a couple of fights, and an incident with fireworks that had gotten his ass suspended—but still. The office. He didn’t think anyone who’d ever been to high school didn’t understand that weird clench he was feeling.

And this was weird—coming to the high school to pick up Nolan. He’d been shocked to his boots when he’d gotten to the clubhouse and Len had said they were headed to spring Nolan out of the vice-principal’s office. Even in their heyday, he didn’t think the Horde was usually the first call the high school made, especially for a kid who wasn’t officially related.

But he was Havoc’s stepson, and it turned out that Mr. Parks, who’d been the vice-principal in Badger’s day and still was, had been a Horde hangaround years back. He still knew enough to know what had happened in the fall and that maybe Nolan’s mom didn’t need this stress right now. So, ignoring protocols (and, for all Badger knew, law) he’d called Len. And Len had called Badger, who hung out with Nolan a fair amount.

Because Nolan was drunk out of his head. At school.
And
he’d started a fight in the lunchroom. All he needed now was to be caught with contraband, and he’d get all three strikes on the first go.

There was an older woman, with the sort of grey, puffy hair that Badger thought of as ‘old lady hair,’ behind the tall, wide desk. He didn’t recognize her. She looked up and took in Len, with his eye patch and nearly-full coverage of ink, and Badger, with his long ponytail and full beard, and blinked. Then her mouth pinched just a little.

Len smiled and said, “Afternoon. We’re here to see Andy Parks.”

Grey-Hair picked up a phone and pressed a button. “Mr. Parks, I think Nolan’s
guardians
are here.” She said the word ‘guardians’ as though she most emphatically was not buying what they were selling. Then she hung up and said, “Behind the desk, second door on the left.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Badger supplied. She didn’t respond. They walked past the desk in the direction she’d pointed them.

As they approached the door, it opened, and Mr. Parks took a step out. He was a short, heavyset man with short, balding brown hair and a neatly trimmed Van Dyke beard. He didn’t look like much, really, but he was a badass. Badger had seen him break up wild fights among boys bigger than him without breaking a sweat. He had a way of speaking that was short and sharp, and when he thought you were talking bullshit, he’d laugh in a way that was almost a bark. It wasn’t cool to get called to his office.

He held out his hand to Len and they shook. “Len. How you doin’?”

“We’re okay, Andy. Got some trouble today, I guess, huh?”

“Yeah, a little.” He turned to Badger. “Justin. Good to see you.”

They shook hands. “Hi, Mr. Parks.”

“Just ‘Andy’ now. And I guess you’re ‘Badger’ now, that right?”