February (Calendar Men Series Book 2)

  Calendar Men - February.

  Scarlett J Rose

  © 2019 Scarlett J Rose All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Any similarities to situations, places or persons, alive or dead is purely coincidental and not intentional. Please respect the author’s rights and do not download this book from any pirate sites. If you see this book, or any other by the author on any pirate site, please report it.

  For more information on Scarlett’s upcoming books and back catalogue feel free to visit her on Facebook.

  Scarlett J Rose’s Facebook page: www.facebook.com/scarlettjrose/

  Edited by Susan Horsnell.

  Cover art by Susan Horsnell.

  Chapter One - Shift.

  “Hey, Shift, you got a minute? I need help with something Brother.” I looked up from the club whore on my lap to see Preacher standing with a grin on his ugly mug.

  “Sure, Brother, what ya need?”

  “Man, I need a lift to the liquor store.”

  “What? Can’t drive yourself there?”

  “Nah, Brother, I’ve had a few.” He made the unmistakable gesture of smoking a crack pipe. I could see the stupid motherfucker was starting to tweak a bit, but being the good Maelstrom MC Brother I was, I’d help him out.

  “Stupid fuck,” I muttered under my breath as I helped Misty, one of my regular club girls, off my lap. “Sorry, sugar, I’ll be back soon, we’ll pick up where we left off.”

  She winked and licked her lips in a salacious gesture that set my balls tingling and my cock swelling in anticipation of getting inside her sweet pussy.

  “No problem, Shift. I’ll be waiting.” She teasingly traced her index finger down her ample cleavage before she blew me a kiss, turned and sauntered her sexy ass back through the clubhouse.

  “Come on dipshit,” I growled at Preacher, one of the younger members of the Maelstrom MC.

  Preacher got his road name, not from his Christian background - though he was a preacher’s son, but from the way he shouted out the almighty’s name when he fucked a woman. Usually with me, it’s the whore who’s calling out to the almighty. The night Preacher got patched everyone heard him screaming out his thanks to God while Bess and Lola gave him something to be grateful for. Anyone listening would have thought Preacher’s room was hosting one of those travelling revival shows the way he carried on that night. Firebird, our club’s President decided on the name as soon as Preacher and the girls emerged the following morning, as we sprayed him with cheap, crappy beer. The name was completely ironic.

  Preacher was as far from the Lord as one could get.

  ****

  As we drove through the streets to one of the local liquor stores in my cage, I noticed Preacher getting a bit antsy.

  “You okay there, Brother?”

  “Yep, sure. Fine, Brother.” Preacher spoke with an unnerving chuckle.

  It made me wonder what else the stupid fucker was on, on top of the crack he’d been smoking earlier.

  Our club wasn’t squeaky clean. We had drugs on site, illegal firearms, ran a few corners with prostitution and laundered money through some of the more ‘legitimate’ businesses. Firebird had been wanting to clean it up a bit, most people saw us as a problem in the community, and maybe we were. It was time for us to grow as a club, away from the crap that could get us shut down or locked up.

  I tended to stay away from the harder shit. Coming home from school to a mother who’d OD’d when you were ten years old, with your six-year-old sister in tow kinda steers you away from that shit, if you’re smart. I did smoke a bit of weed here and there, and enjoyed getting drunk at the parties we threw, but otherwise, I was one of the straighter Brothers.

  As I pulled up to the kerb, I noticed Preacher was checking his piece.

  “Dude, what the fuck?”

  “It’s cool, Brother, just gotta go in here for a bit. All is good, trust me.”

  I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach as I watched Preacher head inside the liquor store.

  Moments later, I heard the unmistakable sound of gunshots. A woman screamed and ran out of the store, followed by Preacher, who shot her down like a dog in the street. “Fucking whore!” he screamed.

  Adrenaline rushed through my body as Preacher ran back to the cage. There were splatters of dark crimson on the white shirt he wore under his cut. He laughed hysterically as he threw a paper bag inside before he flopped down in the passenger seat.

  “Brother, what the fuck did you do?”My gaze travelled to the woman laying still on the pavement.

  “Drive, brother!”

  “Preacher…”

  “Fucking drive, motherficker!” he screamed while waving his gun in my face. In the distance, I heard the wailing of sirens. The cops were coming.

  “Fucking motherfucker.” I started the cage up and floored it, tires squealing as I hauled ass out of there.

  Preacher laughed uncontrollably beside me, rocking in his seat as he rubbed the barrel of his 9mm against his temple, the metal of the gun pushing the blotchy skin into a small lump of flesh before he eased it back down against his scalp. He was muttering to himself as we sped through the streets. We passed a couple of cop cars speeding towards the scene on the way back to the clubhouse.

  I didn’t dare call this shit in to Firebird while Preacher was in the car with me, the stupid fucker had become unhinged,and I’d unwittingly become his fucking accomplice.

  We pulled into the compound, the prospects waving us in before they shut the gates behind us. I parked and looked over at Preacher. The man I knew was gone, all that was left was a blood spattered psychopath. I ran a hand over my face and turned the cage off.

  “Brother, what the fuck did you get me into?” I left Preacher in the car and headed back to the clubhouse, I needed a hot shower and a good, long fuck.

  The cops came for us that evening.

  At the court hearing, I got five years in prison for armed robbery. It was February the tenth, and had become the first day of the rest of my wretched fucking life.

  Itballed out to six, after my behaviour was ‘less than good’.I wasn’t going to be some fucker’s prison bitch and I made damn sure the first bastard who tried that shit knew about it. Preacher had been sentenced to thirty years for murder and armed robbery. I never saw him getting out any earlier than that, if at all.

  The first year was the hardest. Preacher was beaten to death in the showers while I was in solitary for fighting, and Misty turned up with a grainy black and white ultrasound photo.

  “It’s yours.”

  The one night, I hadn’t wrapped my shit. This was the result. This was the responsibility I would be facing once I got out.

  Not a lot scares me, but this little picture, it scared the shit out of me. I demanded a paternity test.

  Misty didn’t come back after that visit, can’t say I really blamed her.Meg, my sister did though. She visited about six months later with a picture of the little girl. She looked exactly like Meg did in her baby photos. She also showed me the positive paternity test. There was no doubt I was the kid’s daddy.

  Five years later, Meg visited me with news.

  “So, Lilly is living with us now, Misty dumped the kid on my front doorstep. We didn’t get a chance to say much, some asshole was waiting for her in his car and kept honking the horn.” Meg looked tired, stressed. She had two boys of her own with her husband, who worked as a linesman for the local power company, she worked part time at the local supermarket.

  “What did she say?” I spoke through gritted teeth in an attempt to keep my anger in check. The guards kept a wary eye over all visitations, I didn’t wan
t to be dragged back to my cell to cool off. I had less than six months of my sentence before I was up for parole. I wanted that freedom now more than ever. I had a new responsibility when I got out. My daughter needed me. I had to make plans for the future.

  “She said she didn’t want the kid anymore so, her daddy’s family could look after her. I wasn’t going to say no, the poor kid looked like she hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks. She’s so thin, Daniel and so shy, like a little mouse. I don’t think she’s had a good upbringing so far.”

  “She wouldn’t have, not with Misty.” From the little I knew about Misty, even though she was one of my regulars at the club, she liked to party. Drugs and alcohol were her sustenance of choice.

  “How did Misty look?”

  “Thin, ragged and she had a few sores on her face.”

  “She was on something, I would say that’s where all her money went, rather than to looking after Lilly.” My hands clenched into fists on the cold metal table.

  “Look, I got less than six months here. I’m going to get out and I’ll take care of my daughter. But until then, can you please look after her?”

  “Of course, she’s family..”

  I laid my hands over Meg’s and squeezed them.

  “Thanks, Sis,”

  Chapter Two - Cass

  “Holy hotness, Batman!” Lydia purred from the kitchen as I finished the last of the folding-up and placed it in the basket to be put away. “Oh my god, Cass! Cass, you gotta see the whole lotta sexiness that just pulled up in the next-door’s driveway. Oh, I think I just came!”

  I padded through from the living room and took the glass of wine my best friend, who was also my neighbour from across the road, handed to me.

  “Well, hello tall, dark and handsome.” Lydia smiled.

  “Okay, which one? The big burly guy with the beard down to his pot belly? Or the other one with tattoos all over his neck, chest and arms who isn’t wearing a shirt under his leather vest, who also has a severe case of pot belly?” I leaned towards the window to get a better look at the activities going on next door. A moving van had been backed up the drive and a group of men wearing distinctive leather vests with patches on their backs were shifting furniture into the house.

  “Damn, he’s moved out of view, but oh my God, if I wasn’t happily married, I’d go over there with a plate of brownies and welcome them all with open… arms.”

  “Arms, sure.” I smirked.

  “Ohmygod!” Lydia whisper-screamed.

  “What?”

  “There he is!”

  I leaned forward again and caught sight of one of the most delicious-looking specimens of the male species I’d ever laid eyes upon. Tall, broad shouldered, and muscles till next week with a head of short-cropped brown hair, and sporting a matching beard to his collarbone. I watched as he stretched and turned his face up to the sun, seeming to enjoy the warmth on his face for a moment, before he turned and seemed to look directly at me

  “Shit!” I squealed, grabbing Lydia and dropping back behind the kitchen counter, out of sight.

  “Cass, why are we hiding?” Lydia whispered like a teenager sneaking back into the house after curfew.

  “He caught me ogling him.”

  “You ogled him?” Lydia giggled. “Hell, about time you ogled a guy. You’ve been divorced, how long, a year now? And, to my knowledge, you’ve not ogled a guy for a long time before that.” Lydia raised her hand, expecting a high-five from me. “Hell yeah, girl!” she grinned, “Don’t leave a sister hanging.”

  I sighed and shook my head.

  “God, I have to do everything myself.” Lydia grabbed my hand and high-fived herself with it.

  “Idiot,” I muttered with a smirk.

  “Hey, I’m not the one hiding behind the kitchen counter like some guilty pervert.” Lydia scrambled to her feet, keeping her wine glass upright, lest she spill any of the precious stuff.

  “Oh damn.” Lydia gasped after taking a sip of her wine.

  “What?”

  “Looks like he’s off the market.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, get your sorry ass up here and check it out.”

  I hauled herself to my feet, using the edge of the counter for balance. The object of my ogling was taking a sweet little girl from a woman. The girl was obviously the woman’s daughter, from the colour of her hair. She fussed over the child.

  “Aww, he’s a daddy, how sweet,” Lydia crooned. as the man gave the little girl a kiss on her cheek and swept away a few strands of dark hair from her face.

  The girl in his arms shied away, turning back to the woman who reached out for her.

  “Maybe Tyler could take a few lessons on how to be a good dad,” I said, thinking of the near-deadbeat dad my Ex had become

  “Does the kid seem a little shy to you?” Lydia asked.

  “Yeah, but she could be just getting used to the move. I did see a princess-style bed being shifted into the house. and a couple of boxes marked ‘toys’ I know Bronson was a bit unsettled during the move here.”

  “I guess. Oh well, at least you can ogle him when he’s out doing yard work.”

  “Ha! Yeah I suppose so. It’s not like my love-life is going to be jump started anytime soon.”

  “There’s always Mr. Big.” Lydia winked.

  “Oh my god, seriously? I still can’t believe you bought me a damn vibrator for a ‘divorce day’ present.”

  “What, you haven’t used it yet?”

  “No!”

  “Oh my god, no wonder you’re still so uptight. You need a good time between those thighs, girl. You need to banish the bats out of your cave, free the beast! You need to…”

  “I need to get dinner started, Bronson will be home from school soon.” I turned to the refrigerator and started to pull out the garlic, onions and meat for the spaghetti bolognaise I’d planned for tonight’s dinner.

  “Well, at least you get a nice view.”

  “You see the silver lining in every cloud, Lyds.” I chuckled as she began to chop the garlic.

  An hour later and it looked like most of the furniture had been moved into the house next-door. Lydia and I watched silently from the shadows of the dining room’s large window as my new neighbour and his leather-clad buddies set up patio furniture and a swing set for the little girl. The front door opened and closed.

  “Mom! I’m home! Did you see the Harleys out the front? They’re so cool!”

  Bronson’s voice carried through the hall to the back of the house where Lydia was on her second glass of wine, I’d stopped at one. My workday hadn’t been stressful enough to warrant a second glass. We hadn’t needed to call the mortician, so, a good day.

  “Hey kiddo.” I smiled at my eight-year-old son, before taking him in a hug. “Yes, we have new neighbours.”

  “Do they have any kids? Can we go say hi?”

  “I think that’s a great idea!” Lydia smiled.

  “Looks like they have a little girl, can’t be more than five, maybe six years old I think. We should let them settle in tonight, we can go introduce ourselves and welcome them tomorrow after school.”

  “Aw, okay, Mom. Can I go play Xbox?”

  “You have any homework, Bron?”

  “Yes.” he grumbled.

  “Homework first, then you can play for an hour.”

  “But Mom, I’ve been at school all day!”

  “And the Xbox will still be there when you’ve done your homework. Remember the deal, it’s a reward for you doing chores and homework, one hour of Xbox, then an hour of outside time.”

  “Okay.” Bronson crossed to where he’d dropped his school bag and pulled out a handful of homework papers.

  “Let me know if you need help with any of it.”

  Bronson nodded and set himself up at the kitchen table.

  Lydia’s phone beeped with a text message, she pulled it out

  “Well, that’s my cue, The man-slave is home with takeout.”

  I w
alked Lydia to the front door. “Enjoy.”

  “Oh I will, and you…” she poked a well-manicured fingernail against my chest. “...need to unwrap Mr. Big and enjoy him!”

  “Get outta here!” I giggled and opened the front door, giving her a playful shove.

  Lydia strode down the steps and turned back to me, blowing a cheeky kiss before she walked out of the front yard and over the road to her own home. Just before I closed the door, I caught sight of my new neighbour. His eyes caught mine, I fell head first into their depths, gaping a moment before I collected my senses. He smirked, surely he knew the effect he’d just had on me. I raised a hand in greeting and closed the front door. Safely inside, and away from those devastatingly handsome eyes, I turned around and pressed my back against the door.

  Yes, that was one fine specimen of a man. Just the way he looked at me did something to my insides. I felt fluttery, jittery and off balance. The sort of sensation you only read about in raunchy novels… the ones Lydia had given me to read to ‘dick-stract’ me during the divorce. It was a shame he was already taken.

  “Mom! I’m hungry, can I have a snack?” Bronson’s voice carried down the hall.

  “Dinner’s almost ready, can you wait twenty minutes?”

  “Aww, but I’m hungry now!” I walked back to the dining room where Bronson was working on his homework.

  “Well, I’m Cassie, pleased to meet you, Hungry Now.” I said with a cheeky smile.

  “Lame.”

  “You’re lame.”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  “Yeah-huh. How about a sandwich?”

  “Okay.”

  “Say what now?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “That’s better. Yo Momma didn’t raise no guttersnipe.”

  “Superlame.” Bronson rolled his eyes at me.

  “Love you, sweetie.” I leaned in and hugged him.

  “Ew, Mom germs!” He squealed as I placed a big, wet kiss on his cheek.

  “You love me,” I laughed, tickling him.

  He squealed with laughter, wriggling in his seat.

  “No! Stop Mom!”