Better When He's Bad

CHAPTER 18 Dovie

6 months later . . .

I HAD A BUNCH of schoolwork spread out on the table in front of me, Brysen was sitting on the couch next to me, and we were gossiping about Ramon’s new boyfriend. I had cut back on my class schedule a little, so getting my associate’s degree was gonna take a little bit longer than I planned, but I had picked up an extra shift at the restaurant in order to squirrel money away for when I had to transfer to the actual university in order to finish my degree. Bax told me repeatedly he would fund the rest of my schooling, he had money left over from his real-life game of Grand Theft Auto and the garage was doing really well. But starting school and getting my degree was something that I had always planned for myself and wanted to achieve on my own, so eventually he quit offering. He paid all the house bills and gave me money on the regular anyway, so I figured it wouldn’t kill him to let me have this one thing for myself.

I still worked at the group home. In fact, after Reeve’s quick exit, they had offered me a promotion. I was tempted to take it, but every other weekend away from Bax was already pushing it, so I had turned it down. It hurt a little to say no, but every time I came home after not seeing him for a few days in a row, he was sporting a new bruise or busted-up knuckles, meaning he was out getting into trouble while I was away. He didn’t come right out and say he was still letting Nassir set up fights for him, just like he didn’t openly admit all the cars he had coming in and out of the shop weren’t there by their owners’ request, but for the most part he was keeping his nose clean. Well, as clean as a guy like Bax could.

Titus was keeping an eagle eye on him and he was pretty invested in making sure he stayed out of jail for my sake, so I didn’t pry, and I wasn’t really too worried about those kinds of speed bumps.

Speaking of the devil, he came wandering out of the backroom pulling his shirt on over his head as he went. He wasn’t as bulked up as he had been when I first met him. He was leaner now, less intimidating in sheer size, but that didn’t mean he had lost any of his badass swagger. I didn’t miss the little sigh of appreciation that left Brysen’s parted lips as Bax bent over the back of the couch and placed a stinging, hard kiss on my mouth.

“Gotta finish the rear end on the Hemi ’Cuda. The garage is empty tonight and Race has plans. I’ll be back in a bit.”

I ran my thumb across the star on his temple and gave him a softer kiss. “See ya later.”

He ran a hand over my hair and pulled one of his thousand hoodies on as he headed out the door.

“Is it okay to tell you that he is equal parts terrifying and hot?” Brysen asked.

I snickered and tossed the pen I was holding onto one of my books. “Yeah, because it’s true.”

“I don’t know how you do it. He’s so . . . dark. It’s like it just oozes out of him.”

He wasn’t always dark, in fact lately he was the one having to pull me into the light. I didn’t feel bad for shooting Novak, he was an awful man and what he put Bax and my brother through made me glad he was gone, but being the one to pull the trigger had changed something in me, made me have a touch of the dark, and without Bax around, there was a good chance I might have just slipped into it.

“He’s a lot to handle. Good thing most of the time he makes it worth my while.”

“Is he still pretty close with your brother?”

She still wasn’t the biggest fan of Race’s. I wasn’t sure what that was all about considering they hardly spent any time around one another, but it didn’t matter enough for me to really investigate. Race was stirring up enough trouble on the back end that worrying about who liked him and who didn’t would make a full-time job.

“There are some serious trust issues working between the two of them. Race doesn’t love us together and Bax doesn’t love that Race isn’t living clean. Ultimately they are best friends and have each other’s backs, but Race sent Bax to jail, and Bax is screwing Race’s little sister, so it can be tense.”

Race had taken his knack for numbers and his newfound understanding of the underworld and picked up where Novak had left off. My brother was running numbers like clockwork. Considering Lord Hartman no longer had an in with the criminal underworld, and there was no longer a threat to my well-being, he had cut Race off . . . no money whatsoever was coming in from the Hill, and Race was too resourceful to let that stop him. If he was going to be a bookie and a loan shark, he was going to be the best, most affluent one the Point had ever seen.

If Bax was still operating outside the law, he was being far more hush-hush about it than my brother was. I tried not to worry about him, but Race was taking big chances, making a name for himself, and not in any kind of good way. Something had happened to him; he was being bold and brazen and trying his best to take up the mantle that had just been shaken off of Novak.

“I can see that causing some problems between two hardheaded guys like that.”

Testosterone wasn’t something I was lacking in my life for sure. Between Bax, Race, and now Titus, who was always popping in and out, I had never felt more secure, more protected, and never more loved and valued than I did now. It wasn’t always an easy road to travel. There was a lot of testosterone, a lot of attitude, a lot of quiet conversations that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, but there was also a sense of moving forward. It was with eyes on the future, and what could be, and not on the past, and what all of us had left behind.

“Life is rarely boring, that’s for sure.”

She gave me a little grin and climbed to her feet to collect her things. She was already enrolled at the university and only had a year left before she got her degree. Occasionally, she liked to drop in and study because she said living at home as an adult was ridiculous. I didn’t get the whole story, I knew she worked, had her own money, but for some reason she still stayed at her parents’ fancy house at the base of the Hill. I liked Brysen a lot, we spent more time together now that I wasn’t living in the inner city, but I didn’t know her all that well and I was starting to think that was by her design.

“Well, you look really happy and I’m glad everything worked out for you. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, okay?”

I nodded and walked her to the front door. I saw her gaze slide over the sexy muscle car parked in the driveway and she gave her blond head a shake.

“I can’t believe he gave you that car. If a guy handed me a ride like that, it would earn him blow jobs every night for a year.”

I laughed and tilted my head to the side. “He said everyone knows it’s his car, so no one would mess with me if I was driving it. It’s also fast . . . like crazy, scary fast. He told me I attract too much trouble and I need to be able to outrun it all.”

She laughed a little and walked to her own BMW that was parked behind the Runner.

“Silly. Doesn’t he see you ran headfirst into the biggest trouble you could find and then never wanted to let it go?”

I just shrugged in response and waved at her as she turned around and headed back down the road. I loved the car, loved that it showed how much Bax cared about me, and I had indeed thanked him quite vigorously in the front seat, in the backseat, and maybe again on the hood. I liked driving it, it made me feel like I had a part of him with me, surrounding me. I also got to give Marco his promised ride, which only kind of thrilled him because he told me I drive like a girl. The kids at the group home also loved that I could tool them around town in the sleek and loud car, so it was thrilling for more than just me.

Giving me the Runner meant Bax was working on building his own new car. He had commandeered the Hemi ’Cuda Gus had left him and was working overtime on building it into a black-on-black, chrome-dipped monster of engine and steel. It was twice as loud as the Runner, looked twice as mean, and I knew the motor in it was nowhere near street legal. It was a car that screamed “Bax,” but it was also a project that he was using to honor his mentor’s memory and legacy.

We had talked briefly about Gus passing away, but as with everything that happened in the Point, Bax just took a deep breath, let it out, and moved on. I knew he missed the old mechanic, knew he was hurt by the loss, but on the streets, living this life, there was no time for grief, so I cried for both of us and let him hold me until it passed.

I was walking back into the house when my cell rang. We still used disposable phones, still paid for everything in cash, so even though we had a house in the burbs, safe at the end of the Hill, we were still living like we had our backs to the wall and things could go bad any second. I didn’t know if it was always going to be that way. I liked to think after some time things would settle down, some of Bax’s edge would dull, but I loved the man for who he was, so if pins and needles were what it took to be with him forever, then I was signed on to suffer.

“Hello?”

“Dovie Pryce?”

I looked at the number because I didn’t recognize it or the older woman’s voice on the other end. “Yes?”

“My name is Maggie Dawes and I’m the managing partner of the Kids’ Crossing housing project where you work. I’m one of the liaisons for Social Services.”

My stomach dropped. I was thinking she knew about my ties to Bax, about what my brother was up to, and was going to fire me. I sucked in a deep breath and let it out between my teeth.

“Sure, what can I do for you?”

“Well, we just had a full-time position open up. We need someone to be an advocate between the kids and the workers coming in from the city. The group home where you work so far has had one of the highest success rates of placing troubled kids with appropriate families. According to your directors, all of the kids’ success can be directly related back to you. The kids trust you, they are honest with you, and as a result, we feel you would be a perfect fit for this new position.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and just blinked at it. “Uhh . . . I’m still in school. I don’t have a degree in social work or anything yet.”

“You’ll be working under a certified counselor. It’s a great opportunity, you can use the job as part of your clinical hours once you start working toward your actual degree.”

I gave my head a shake. It was what I always wanted, to help others, to save them from the circumstances that I had almost been lost to. “How would my schedule change?”

“Nine to five. No more overnights at the home. You would be involved more on the administrative end, but still have plenty of face time with all the kids . . . too many kids, frankly. Take a few days to think on it, and get back to me.”

I just gaped like an idiot, glad it was a phone call and she couldn’t see me looking like a fool.

“Oh, and Ms. Pryce . . . I should mention it comes with a fairly substantial pay raise. Have a nice night.”

I just stood there inside the door, numb and shocked. I thought I had gotten everything when Bax finally came home, thought all the sacrifice, all the bad things, had led to him and me being together, and that they were the price we had to pay to find just a smidge of happiness in a world that could be so ugly and cruel. This opportunity to give back, to make a difference, was so much more than that.

I wanted to jump up and down, wanted to scream and dance around the house as pure, unfiltered joy started to flow through me. Really I wanted to celebrate, and the only person I wanted to do that with was all the way across town. I bit my bottom lip and thought about him telling me he had the garage to himself tonight, and that Race was out doing something that would probably end him up in jail or dead. I let my gaze drift over to where Bax stashed all of his hoodies. An idea started to percolate, words from another night, words breathed across my skin, and I grabbed one off the hook.

I wasn’t bold enough or blatant enough to put the hoodie on with nothing underneath. That pushed my good-girl boundaries too far, but I did ditch my jeans for a cute pair of boy-cut panties and nothing but a stretchy tank top to keep some modesty. I figured my Chucks would just have to do and it wasn’t like I was going to have to work that hard to seduce Bax anyway. That was one of my favorite things about him. He took me any way I came, and always seemed to treat me like I was his favorite present of all time. It would be fun to surprise him, to make his dark eyes glow in appreciation. It wasn’t often I felt like I had the upper hand with him. This was a good way to remind him I could give as good as I got.

I made it to the garage in no time. The Runner really was the best gift he could have given me. I knew the code to the garage bay and poked it in on the keypad. Bax and Race had turned Gus’s old, run-down chop shop into an ultramodern, fully operational, high-tech automobile palace. There were new lifts, all new machines, and every kind of car you could imagine sprawled from one end of the space to the other. Mixed in between the muscle cars Bax was restoring and the expensive luxury cars that were there for purposes unknown, there was a bunch of cars parked along one back wall that looked like they just belonged to everyday Joes.

Bax was bent over the open hood of the ’Cuda, his whole upper half bent in the engine compartment. I don’t think he heard me because he didn’t lift his head. The back of his T-shirt was lifted up, flashing the flurry of black birds that danced up along the center of his back and ended up swirled and intertwined with his name that arched across his shoulders. He wanted me to get the scar on my chest looked at by a plastic surgeon, he told me it hurt him every time he had to think about watching Novak put it there. I told him I had earned it, I had earned him. I wanted it there to remind him of what we had to lose, of what could happen if we let things get away from us, if we took the fight we needed to keep us together for granted. I had survived, so had he, and we made it out together. The birds that covered his back served the same purpose, only I had to admit his markings were a far prettier sight.

I tiptoed up behind him and softly trailed my fingers along the exposed skin above the top of his jeans. He jerked around in surprise and I laughed at the scowl on his face. The wrench he had in his hand rattled to the cement ground.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” I saw his eyes sweep over me from head to toe. My legs were bare under the hem of his hoodie where it hit me at midthigh. One of his dark eyebrows danced upward and the corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin.

I cocked my head to the side and lifted an eyebrow back at him. “What’s up with the used-car lot over there? Those aren’t your usual flavor.”

His gaze skated over the line of cars and he sighed. “You want the truth or you want me to lie to you?”

I rolled my eyes at him and stood on my tiptoes so I could wind my arms around his neck. His big hands settled on my hips and he pulled me so I was cradled between his legs where he was leaning against the car.

“Truth.”

“People who gamble don’t think. They throw money around, take risks, and don’t have long-term plans. The only way gambling works is if the person has something to lose. Race is playing a pretty dangerous game, but he’s smart. Way smarter than Novak ever was. Dead men can’t pay debts, broken men can’t go to work, but take a guy’s ride and he knows you’re serious. Pay up or your car goes bye-bye. Those are the cars waiting for their owners to pay up.”

“And those cars got here how, exactly?”

He grinned down at me now, mischief sparking in the center of his obsidian-tinted gaze.

“Just consider me a repo man of sorts. I didn’t steal them to chop them up. I just borrowed them to help your brother out.”

“And if the owners don’t pay up?”

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law. So far everybody wins.”

“Until someone turns you in.”

“The Point doesn’t work like that, Copper-Top. Bad places have bad people and bad people have bad vices. Race is taking a risk, but he’s filling a need that was always gonna be there. I’ll keep an eye on it, Titus isn’t stupid and isn’t going to let it get out of hand, but for now it’s working and let’s just leave it at that. Now, why don’t you tell me why you are in the garage, half naked, looking all shiny-eyed and happy?”

I pressed my mouth to his, made him let me tangle my tongue with his, and used my leverage to press even closer to him. I would never get over how solid and sturdy he felt against me. His fingers tangled in the ends of my hair and I heard him sigh softly against my now damp mouth.

“I got offered a promotion at the group home today. A great job that will let me really help the kids, more money, and no more weekends away. I wanted to celebrate, so really I wanted you.”

He nodded his head at me and I squealed a little in surprise when he bent and picked me up. I curled my legs around his waist and leaned against him as he started to walk toward the office at the back of the garage.

“That’s awesome, Copper-Top. Congratulations. You really were born to make a difference for those who need you.”

“Where are you taking me?” I decided to nuzzle the curve of his neck, happy that he shivered a little in response.

“I put more cameras in this place than all of London has. There isn’t a corner of the lot or the building not on a live camera feed. Normally a little show-and-tell wouldn’t bother me, but considering your brother has all the access codes, I doubt that’s a show he wants to see, especially if you don’t have anything on under this sweatshirt. The office is the only place not wired up.”

I appreciated his consideration, because what I had in mind most definitely didn’t need my brother’s or anyone else’s input.

The heavy metal door closed behind us with a clang and Bax wasted no time pressing me up against it and working the zipper on the front of his hoodie down. His dark gaze glowed at me and the way his throat worked up and down made me think this was possibly one of my most brilliant ideas ever.

“I couldn’t do just the hoodie and nothing else. That’s just too bad for me.”

He chuckled a little and bent down to kiss me softly on the mouth. It made me sigh, and the way he worked his hands up over the edge of my ribs made me gasp out loud.

“Dovie, you’re my girl. Nothing is too bad for you.”

That made me laugh, which quickly turned into a groan, and he had the heavy material off of my shoulders and the tank top off of me in a few twisting, flexing moves. I tugged at his T-shirt until it cleared the top of his head and we were pressed together, chest to chest, our hearts beating the same excited, aroused rhythm. My nipples pebbled up in eager anticipation and my legs tensed automatically around his waist. He dropped his head and ran his tongue along the raised ridge of my scar. He did that every time we were together like this. I wasn’t sure if it was to make sure I knew it didn’t take away from how beautiful he found me, or if he was trying to take the memory away. Either way, I always liked it and it made me rake my hands along his cap of short hair.

“I like these.” His fingers dipped inside the leg of the panties I had put on. I shivered at the gentle touch.

I kissed the star on his face and used my teeth on the lobe of his ear. “I like you.”

He laughed, something he was getting slightly better at. “Good to know.”

Then there was no more room for joking or thought, because his fingers went from outside my panties to inside, and all I could do was feel. He was just so intent, so focused, and read my body so easily. He touched me just right, had me gasping his name and shamelessly grinding between his hard body and the door in seconds. I was greedy, wet, and desperate for him. I locked my ankles over the top off his ass and let my head thunk back against the door. My eyes went half-mast, and I watched him watch me as he wound me up.

My inner walls pulled at his talented fingers, my legs quivered around him, and by the time he relented and roughly swiped his thumb over my clit, there was no holding back the flood of release he had unleashed. I leaned forward and sealed my mouth over his, told him I loved him, and tried not to slide down the door as he used his free hand to tenderly stroke and caress the tip of one breast. He always did that, got me off, tore me up, and then turned sweet and gentle until he was ready to push me past all my limits again. I didn’t even protest when he ripped the panties out of his way, even though that meant I was going home bare-assed under his hoodie.

“My fantasy. You in a hoodie and nothing else. You really are something special, Dovie. I don’t know what the point would be without you.” I didn’t know if he was talking about the place or the point of us, but I guess either fit.

I kissed along his collarbone. Worked happy hands between us so I could get his belt open and free the part of him that I needed. He was so hot and hard in my hands, so ready, always so ready for me. I stroked the length up and down, watched his eyes go even darker, and saw the pulse in his neck start to get erratic.

“You are something special too, Shane. Don’t ever forget I know that.”

He groaned when I squeezed the head and tilted my pelvis up so that just the tip of him hit my entrance. We both stilled just a little at the contact, but as always, it was perfect. He half sank in, half let me pull him in, and the next thing I knew, we were sliding, moving, thrusting, and grinding all kinds of hot and heavy against the door to his office. It wasn’t graceful or pretty. In fact, I think I lost a chunk of hair in the hinge of the door. But it was raw, it was spontaneous, and he always made it feel special.

He groaned my name into the bend of my neck when he came, dug his fingers into my hips, and I clamped down on him and tossed my head from side to side as the second wave of pleasure overtook me. When it was over we sort of folded in on each other, and I ended up straddling him on the floor while he collapsed on his back still buried inside of me. He sighed and ran his hands over the still-trembling skin of my thighs. I put both hands on his chest and leaned down so our faces were almost touching, my hair a fiery curtain around us.

“I love you, Shane Baxter.”

“I love you, Dovie Pryce.”

He didn’t say it often, so when he did, it always mattered a little more.

“And I love it when you call me Shane right before I get you off . . . every single time.”

That made me laugh, which made me lean down and kiss him some more, which led to him getting hard again, which led to some more uncomfortable garage sex, this time on the floor of the office.

There were two parts to all of us, things that made us who we were, showed where we came from. I liked to think my parts were equally divided between good and bad, where Bax’s were bad mixed with a little more bad. But somewhere inside him Shane lurked, and Shane had just enough good to make me think we had forever. Or at least as long as a place like the Point was going to give us, and at the end of the day, I was happy with that, as long as it had me and him together.

Better When He’s Bold . . . Race’s story coming soon . . .