“Damn, you sure ain’t small,” Lily blurted, looking Grease up and down . . . and then up again.

“No, ma’am, I’m not.”

“Callie being so small, you’re lucky your baby didn’t rip her in two,” Lily commented, making Grease’s face pale.

“Shut your trap, Lily!” Gram admonished.

“Well, shit! Look at him! The man’s huge!”

Gram ignored Lily and turned to Grease. “Get that look off your face. Callie did just fine having Will, and I’m pretty sure you’ve seen that he didn’t rip her in two.”

Grease’s face turned red at Gram’s words, and I had a hard time controlling my laughter. God, Gram was funny alone, but with those two old ladies together? I had a feeling I’d be peeing my pants in the near future.

“Can’t stay long, little brother,” Grease told Cody seriously, immediately ruining the good mood I’d finally found. They shared a look and a head nod before Cody turned toward me.

“Come on, Ladybug,” he called quietly, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “I’ll show you where your room is.”

When Lily called out not to dirty the sheets, I couldn’t even laugh.

It was almost time for him to leave me and I wasn’t ready. If it were up to us, he would have stayed, but we both knew he was needed at the club. If the families were ever going to be safe again, they had to take care of the threat against them.

Chapter 23

Farrah

“I’ll be fine,” I assured Cody, running my hands over his shaved head as I straddled him on the bed in Lily’s guest room.

“I hate leaving you, especially after all that shit at the club.”

My breath shuddered as I remembered Vera’s story, but I shook my head as if it were nothing. “It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t news that Slider didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I found you wrapped in your quilt, Ladybug. It wasn’t nothing,” he argued, pulling me closer.

“I’m fine now, see?” I told him, leaning back so he could see the wide smile on my face. “I’ve got Gram and Lily to keep me occupied, and Lily’s shotgun to keep me safe. We’re good, baby.”

“It still worries me.”

“Hey, maybe by the time you come back, this’ll have grown out a little and I’ll have something to grab hold of,” I said, pinching my fingers together to try to pull his hair. “Why did you shave it?”

He chuckled nervously, and my curiosity grew. “You said I looked like a douche bag.”

“What? No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you said only douche bags had my haircut.” He laughed again. “When I left with Grease the first time to meet the guys, I shaved it all off. I didn’t want to look like a pussy.”

“Aw, shit.” I groaned, but couldn’t keep my lips from curving up.

“It was stupid.”

“You should grow a real Mohawk this time,” I said with a kiss. “Let it grow, and when I see you, I’ll cut it for you.”

“You’re gonna cut my hair?” he asked into my mouth.

“If—when you come back, I will.”

“I don’t think it’ll take long,” he said, raising both hands to run his fingers through my hair. “A week, maybe two. Then I’ll come get you.”

“I’m trying really hard not to ask questions, because I know that’s how you guys roll. But I need you to tell me that everything is going to be okay,” I replied before leaning in to bite his chin gently.

“It’ll be fine, I promise. Ladybug, if you keep doing that I’m going to . . . fuck.” He hissed as I ran my mouth down his throat and sucked on his Adam’s apple.

“You have to be quiet,” he ordered, pulling me with him as he stood from the bed. He walked over and pulled my quilt from where it was lying on top of my suitcase, and spread it over the edge of the mattress.

“I can be quiet.”

“No, you can’t,” he murmured, spinning me to face the bed. “I’m going to fuck you fast and hard, and you’re gonna want to scream.”

I felt myself growing slick as he unbuttoned my jeans and ripped them down my legs. My underwear went next, and as I stepped out of the clothes around my ankles, his fingers slid into me from behind.

“Already fucking wet for me, goddamn,” he said quietly, reaching up with his other arm to push my torso down onto the bed. “Stay just like that. Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

His voice was hoarse and his hands sure as he pulled his fingers out of me to push my shirt up to rest above my breasts. When he stood up, I glanced his way and saw him pointing his phone in my direction.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking your picture,” he answered with a wry smile as he put the phone on the nightstand and unbuttoned his jeans.

“Great,” I mumbled, my face burning as I dropped my head to the bed.

I heard him pushing down his jeans and rolling on a condom as I waited, and every little noise ratcheted up my impatience. I knew we didn’t have much time before Grease came looking for him, and I wanted to be able to touch him one last time before he left. A sense of foreboding had me instigating sex with him, even though I knew there were people just down the hall.

Simply put, I was afraid. I was afraid that whatever he was going to do would take much longer than a week. I was afraid that someone would find us out there in the boonies, and we’d be sitting ducks. I was afraid that he’d go back to the club, and Slider’s problem with me would rub off.