Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2) (17 page)

Without a thought, I walk up to the bar and grab a bottle of booze for myself. I’m getting fucked up tonight. I jog to my room and grab my stash of green before I turn and go back to the bar. I sit down by the pool tables and light my smoke before inhaling deep, letting my head fall back and my eyes close.

My mind fills with visions of Brentlee.
Fuck
. She needs so much from me and I don’t know if I can deliver. Not the way she needs. She’s asking a fuck of a lot from me.

Fidelity.

Commitment.

Monogamy.

I want to give all of it to her. She deserves it all. But I don’t know if I can. When push comes to shove, when it all becomes a reality and not the fantasy I’ve had in my head for years, can I do it?

I take a swig of booze before I open my eyes and look around at my brothers, my family. Fury is standing at the bar, his hand wrapped around LeeLee’s hip, and she’s got her head tipped back in laughter. I want that, I want that with Brentlee. I don’t know if I’ll ever have that.

I spend the rest of the night playing pool, drinking, smoking and trying to forget the dark haired beauty living in my house and sleeping alone in my bed.

My dick aches with need as I lie down in my bed. The room spins and I chuckle to myself. I feel like a fuckin’ teenager all over again and it fuckin’ blows. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and jump a little when my feet hit the cold floor.

My eyes shift toward the door and I give it a good long stare. I could walk right out that door and without a single fucking word make the ache in my cock go away. I could drain my balls down some bitch’s throat.

Visions of Brentlee flash through my mind. The look on her face if she ever found out, the sadness that would consume her, as if she hasn’t had enough of that the past ten years. I don’t want to be the cause of more, all because I want to get off. I don’t want her to hurt another fuckin’ minute, and yet, that’s all I seem to do—hurt her.

I lie back down and stare at the ceiling as the room continues to spin. I reach for my phone and stare at the numbers, I want to call her, tell her that I’m nothing but a fuckin’ dick. I grip my phone and throw it. Pissed off at myself for treating her the way that I have. I don’t even want these other whores and I can have them, right here and right now. Yet, my cock only wants one cunt—Brentlee’s.

The next morning, I wake up and go with Drifter again. This time, the group of men are met by another man. He pulls up in a shiny, expensive car. When he gets out, my eyes narrow. It’s Scott Senior, Scotty’s father.

“That’s Brentlee’s father-in-law,” I announce to Drifter.

“The fuck?”

“Bet these are the fuckers that have been watching Fury’s place for any sign of her. He said someone’d been watching their comings and goings.”

Without hesitation we both stand. I’ll not have Brentlee terrorized a second longer, she’s had enough. Whatever she wants from me, she has it. I’m fucking done with everything. She’s what’s important. Her and Stella. No more women, ever. Its only her for me.

“Hey there, assholes,” I chuckle as I pull my gun out from my shoulder holster. In my peripheral vision, I see that Drifter has done the same. He also pulls his favorite knife out of its holster at his hip.

“What…” Scott Sr. tries to sputter. I point my gun to his head.

“These fucktards need to leave. You don’t need to know where Brentlee is, she’s not your concern anymore,” I announce.

“That little whore is my son’s wife, and her daughter is my granddaughter, so it seems she is very much my concern,” he says, standing up a bit taller. He’s trying to appear bigger, taller, but he’s still a pencil dicked shrimp.

“Your son’s a piece of shit. Call your men off of Brentlee and pretend she never fuckin’ existed,” I grunt.

“Or what? You can’t do shit to me, you thug. There are witnesses to your threats,” he points out.

I turn to Drifter and ask if he’s heard me threaten anything. He shakes his head, saying he hasn’t heard a thing. Then I eyeball every single one of his wannabe goons, all of which have yet to stand up to bat for this asshole.

“Call everybody off, and leave Brentlee alone. She’s suffered long enough.”

“My son wants her, for whatever reason, he’ll have her,” he states.

“You’re not calling these men off?” I ask. He shakes his head in defiance. I lift my chin to Drifter. In less than a minute, all four men are lying dead in pools of their own blood, and Scott Corbin Sr. is screaming like a woman.

“You killed them,” he screeches.

“I did,” I shrug. “Wanna be next?” I ask with a grin.

“N-N-No,” he stutters.

“Leave Brentlee alone, and get your piece of shit kid to grant the divorce she’s asking for,” I demand.

“Yes, yes I will. I’ll advise him,” he says shakily.

“Now, get the fuck out of my sight,” I bark.

I watch as he scrambles to his car and then takes off like a bat out of hell.

“I just called some prospects to clean this shit up,” Drifter announces. “Do you think there’ll be backlash?” he asks.

“That guy’s so fuckin’ scared, he just about shit his pants. There won’t be backlash, at least not from him.”

Once the prospects arrive, Drifter and I leave.

I text Brentlee once I’m back at the clubhouse, but hours go by and she doesn’t respond. I want to throw my phone across the room. I miss her. I miss Stella. I miss my girls. I know what I want, what I need. The other shit—the fucking nameless bitches just because I think I need it—it doesn’t compare to Brentlee.

There’s a void now that I recognize when she isn’t around, a void that she and Stella fill. They’re what’s been missing in my life, they are exactly what I need. I just need to figure out how to make her see that. If I could somehow
show
her that she’s the only one I want because telling her won’t be enough. I have to prove it to her, I have to find a way.

Brentlee

I stare at his text. It’s not much, just a few words, words that mean so much more than I wish they did.

I miss you
.

I miss him, too. So much. But he’s not giving me what I need. I need more than a few words typed into a phone. I need him to talk to me, to tell me that he can be with only me. That he can accept me and all of my flaws.

I have to go to the clubhouse to work tomorrow, all day long, and I’m not looking forward to it. He’ll be there and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to resist him.

Physically, there’s a magnetic pull between us that can’t be denied. I want to give him what he needs, what I need, and what we both want. I wish I could be whatever he needs me to be.

“You look tired,” Kentlee comments as she walks into the house.

“I am,” I shrug.

“Saw him last night,” she murmurs.

I wait for her to tell me more; there has to be a catch—something.

“He was drinking and playing pool. It seems you’ve tamed the beast.” She grins victoriously.

“I highly doubt that,” I snort.

“Don’t. Before me, I don’t think Fury had ever been in a real committed relationship. When they finally fall in love, Brentlee, when it’s real, they’ll put their all into it. I see the way he looks at you; the way he’s always looked at you.”

I roll my eyes at my sister.

My tender-hearted, romance-loving sister. Just because her life has turned into roses and rainbows, she thinks that everybody’s life can be the same. I’m a testament to the fact that it doesn’t work that way. I sigh and turn to the kids playing on the floor.

“Don’t write him off yet, okay?” she urges.

I shrug, unable to answer. I haven’t seen him for two days, and I have no clue where we stand. One text message, that’s what I’ve received. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but at this moment, it looks bleak.

“He’s all fucked in the head, Brent. He’ll get his shit together, just like you need to as well,” she says, arching her brow.

“He’s Bates,” I sigh.

“When he opens up to you, take it, relish it,” she murmurs.

I think about my sister’s words. I want that. I want him to open up to me, to tell me that he’s mine, to tell me his fears and admit his weaknesses. Then maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to begin to start trusting him with my heart.

Sniper

M
y head is pounding when I finally wake and I find that I’m alone, in my room at the clubhouse. It’s been days since Brentlee and I had our moment. The space between us it’s almost a living breathing thing. I don’t know what she wants, and she doesn’t know what she wants, either.

I can keep putting myself in her life, in her face, and in her bed, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to let me in.
Fuck
,
I don’t even know if I can truly let her in.
I’m not the same boy I was all those years ago; and even then, even back then, she didn’t know all of my truths. She knew my dad was a bastard, but I never told her details. I shielded her from the hell I lived. I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me. I didn’t want her to see me as weak.

I still don’t.

“Sniper, baby,” a sweet voice calls from the hall. I look up to see Star standing in my doorway.

She’s wearing a tank top and a pair of thong panties. Nothing else. My eyes scan her bared skin, and when I get to her tits, I can see her nipples are hard under the thin top. Her hair is a little wild and her usually caked on makeup isn’t there. She looks younger,
sexier
. I can’t help my cock from twitching.

“Star,” I grunt.

“Missed you around here,” she murmurs before she walks through the door, closing it behind her.

I should stop her advancement. I should tell her to fucking
go
. I should do a lot of shit. But I don’t.

“Yeah,” I shrug, not moving, just watching her as she crawls up my body. “What’re you doing?”

“Thought we were something,” she whispers as her lips glide up my neck and her hot pussy presses against my stomach.

“You know we ain’t,” I murmur as my hands wrap around the outside of her thighs.

“I can give you everything you need,” she purrs as her tongue snakes out and tastes my skin.

“But you can’t give me what I want,” I state. She sits up and looks down on me.

“What do you want? I’ll give it all to you. I’ll proudly wear your name, I’ll have your kids, I’ll fuck anywhere, everywhere and
whoever
you want me to. Whatever you want, it’s yours,” she says. My stomach rolls in disgust.

“Brentlee,” I say shoving her off of me and standing.

“Have us both, then. Take me when you need what I can give you, what she can’t. I’m not a jealous woman, Sniper, I can share. For you, I’d be willing to.”

I stare at her lying on my bed as I stand above her. Any man’s dream on a silver platter. She’s pretty and her skills are unbelievable between the sheets. Brentlee’s already said she’d deal if that’s what I wanted, but I don’t want Brent to
deal
.

I want her to be happy
.

It’s important to me that I make her happy; her and Stella. No matter what she claims, Brent’s not going to be cool with me fuckin’ another woman. In all honesty, yeah, Star makes my cock hard and fucking her would get me off, but she couldn’t make me feel the way I do when I’m inside of Brentlee. Nobody has ever been able to match the way I feel when I’m with her, or inside of her.

“No, thanks. You need to go,” I say, grabbing my jeans from the floor and lifting them over my hips.

“Whatever you want, Sniper.
Anything
,” she almost pleads. It annoys me. Beggin’ ain’t fuckin’ cute when the other person don’t want you.

“I said no. You’re a whore here, Star. I don’t even know your real name, and I could give a fuck what it is. I took your ride a few times, but that don’t make it more than the few fucks it was. It’s over now. You need to get that and get the fuck out of my face,” I growl before I step inside of my boots and grab my shirt from the floor. Once I am dressed, I snatch my cut off of the dresser and slide it over my shoulders.
Watching
. Waiting for this bitch to do something.

“You’ll be back, wanting me again,” she mutters before she stands up. I watch her walk out of my room without another word.

Crazy bitches
. I’m surrounded by them.

Brentlee

I watch Star walking out of the hall where all the bedrooms are. I wonder whose bed she’s coming from in just a tank and a g-string. I shake my head at the thought. Today I’m doing inventory and placing an order for the bar, so as much as I’m curious, I honestly don’t have time. I’m exhausted.

Bates walks out of the hall a few minutes later and my mouth waters at the sight of him. He looks rumpled and has serious bedhead—he’s so fucking sexy. I haven’t seen him in three days. I’m trying to keep my distance from him. That last fight and fuck fest was too much.
Too much emotion. Too raw
.

I offered myself, me, and he hasn’t responded. Sure, we fucked and the next morning he was semi-affectionate as always, but I can’t read him. He didn’t verbally respond. There was no promise of fidelity, and I don’t know how I feel about that. No, I do. I feel shitty. I want him to be able to promise me that he won’t be with anybody else. He has the power to break me, shatter me, and I’m so weak that it wouldn’t take much to do that.