I’d give anything to see her in a yellow fuckin’ bikini. The visual has my jeans tightening to an unbearable degree.

Bodie hits Whiz. “Looks like we’re gonna be doin’ some fuckin’ shoppin’.”

I stand and walk the fuck out of the room, because if I don’t leave right now, everyone is going to see what this girl does to me. How I can’t think or function for one second while she’s around. How I get so fucking turned on by the mere sight of her. How I want to beat all of their fuckin’ faces in for even looking at sexy photo-shopped pictures of her.

My hand stalls on the doorknob when I hear Doll’s hushed voice behind the slightly opened door.

“That’s it. Keep going. It’s okay. Put it all in. It’ll fit.”

Clenching my jaw, I prepare to open the door and unleash hell on her and whoever’s in there with her.

“Okay, I think that’s all of it. Now what?” Lil’ Bird asks.

A laugh. Doll’s. “Now turn that knob, depending on the size of the load.”

“Um.”

“Well, I don’t think you could fit much more in there, so I’d say that’s a large load. If it’s only halfway full then choose medium, and if you’re washing only a couple of items then use small.”

A hear a few clicks. “There. Now what?”

“Now to start it, push that button there.” The sound of the washer starts up.

Lil’ Bird makes a surprised sound. “Is it supposed to do that?” Lil’ asks.

“Yeah,” Doll laughs. “Now add the soap. About a half cup, maybe a little more depending on the load. There’s a line right there. Yep, just like that. Dump it in but try to spread it around in a circle.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah, like that.”

I hear clapping and girlish giggles.

“Wow, look at how fast it’s filling up.” Another laugh, Doll’s. The sound runs through me and it’s soothing, like a nice cold beer on a hot day.

“Okay, now shut the lid and in about an hour we’ll come put everything in the dryer.”

I hear a huff, then . . .”Easy. I can’t breathe,” Doll says.

“Thank you so much. Goose is gonna shit a brick when he’s sees me doin’ this.”

I open the door and see Lil’ Bird pull away from hugging Doll.

They both turn their heads toward me when they hear the door open. Upon seeing me, Doll’s smile fades.

What? Are her smiles only for Dozer? The jealously rioting through me makes me say stupid shit like, “I was going to do a load of my stuff, but since you’re already in here, I’ll just leave this with you.” I drop my hamper down beside the door, and add, “Make sure you bleach the whites, and let me know when they’re done. Oh and . . . fold them before they get wrinkled to shit.”

She bites her lip to stop herself from giving me a sassy retort. I can tell it’s killing her to do so because her little freckled nose twitches.

“You got somethin’ to say, Doll?”

This time she smiles as she places her hand on her hip. “I’ll get right on that.”

“That’s what I thought.” I back out of the room and grin like a fucking idiot. Sassy fuckin’ mouth. She just can’t help herself. And secretly, I love it.

It’s all fun and games until it’s not.

EMBER

I’m gagging, dry heaving every time I come across another clump of God only knows what on this nasty floor. It’s rancid and I’m not entirely sure I have enough cleaner left to get the job done.

Although I’ve thought more than once that it might be better if I was blissfully unaware of what it is I’m scrubbing off the floor.

Uh . . . My skin crawls when I think about the germs I have all over me.

I’m sweating like mad. I’d give anything to be done and be able to take a shower. But I decided to tackle this project next, now that I’m done with the kitchen, and I’m not one to leave anything half done. Though I’m regretting my decision to get the most disgusting and difficult task out of the way first, before moving on to the easy stuff.

I have rags wrapped around my knees and gloves on. I’m balancing on my left hand, while relentlessly scrubbing with my right.

Taz is watching me work. He’s my babysitter for today. I can tell he’s getting a kick out of my discomfort. Every so often, he’ll complain about the smell, and point out a spot on the floor that I’ve supposedly missed. I just bite the inside of my cheek and keep cleaning.

Bodie is sitting on one of the leather couches and he’s stuffing his face with popcorn. Which couch depends on which way my ass is facing. He’s been moving from couch to couch to get the best view, like my butt is a damn blockbuster movie. It makes me a little sick to my stomach to think he has a wife and kids at home waiting for him, and yet here he is, acting like he has nothing better to do than watch my butt wiggle with each movement I make.

Dozer’s at the gym. Has been all day. He owns it. Or well, the club does. The club owns a half-dozen or more businesses around town, including a tattoo shop, an auto body shop, a real estate office, and Goose runs the strip club, while Griz and Cap manage a small casino. Yeah, casino. But not the same one Lily and I passed on our way to the clubhouse, which was enormous. None of the guys really work full time. Most of them leave after lunch and are back around six or seven.

Lily is the club’s shopping guru. She’s the go-to person if anyone needs anything. Clothes. Groceries. Alcohol. Smokes. Condoms. She also helps Goose part time at the strip club, Wet Tips. He won’t let her on the stage anymore since she became his old lady, but he’ll let her work a few day shifts at the bar.

It’s where they met and why she started hanging around the club.

“Missed a spot.” I look up and see a half smile on Taz’s face. He’s pointing to a spot about a foot to my right.

“That’s a nick in the floor,” I grumble.

“You sure?”

“Yep.

I grind my teeth as he steps down from his stool, and leaves footprints everywhere I just cleaned. He bends down checks the spot, huffs and shrugs his shoulders. “Guess you’re right.”

I swear he does stuff like this on purpose to get to me. I’m sure he’s hoping I’ll crack and leave. It’s worse though when he catches me alone. His taunts turn sexual, and there’s always an underlining threat in his choice of words. So that I’m never quite sure of his meaning.

I exhale and keep working. Making my way over to clean up his footprints.

My hair keeps falling in my face. Most of it is tied back in a bun, but strands keep escaping from the tie. I use my forearm and sweep them back but they only fall forward again a moment later.

“Why are you wearin’ such baggy clothes? Don’t you want us to get a good look at what we’ll be samplin’ soon?” Bodie asks.

“In,” Taz looks over at the calendar, “six more days.”

I meet Taz’s black gaze. He’s good looking, but in a Brad Pitt 12 Monkeys kind of way. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s got a few bolts missing upstairs. It’s not a far stretch of the imagination to picture him in a white straitjacket instead of his leather vest. Or an orange jumpsuit to go with those nice prison tats on his face.

Right now, he’s flipping a knife end over end—catching the blade, then the handle. He’s also sucking on a toothpick. Which I think is to cover up the slight lisp he has when he says certain words.

I shrug. “Honestly, I don’t care if you see what my body looks like.” I’m lying through my teeth, but I hope they can’t tell. With Taz, it’s all about not letting him get to me.

Bodie sits forward on the couch, hands going to his knees. Bodie and Taz share a look. I shake my head and go back to cleaning.

“That right? So you gonna strip for us then. Give us a little show, ginger?” Bodie asks. I pause and focus on his expectant face.