OGs: Deep Down (31 page)

Kyra chuckled. It had been love at first sight. She hadn’t needed a car in New York, but it was so cute and small, she hadn’t been able to pass up on it. She’d stashed it in a garage and had decided she’d fix it after that fateful last tour with Amantis. “True. How much work have you been doing to my car?”

“We had time constraints and some trouble getting new parts, but we got quite far in the weeks we’ve been working on it. Brakes, motor, thermostat. Except for paint and outside bodywork, of course.”

“Yeah. Mike is very creative, but not even he could come up with a reason for my car to suddenly grow new rust-free fenders.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure he would have tried.”

Kyra was sure too.

“Now that the cat is out of the bag, I can’t allow it to continue. If you kidnap my car, I demand to be the one paying the ransom.”

Rachel broke into laughter. “I can’t promise anything. I need to talk to the cokidnapper and main conspirator.”

Rachel was fun. Kyra liked her, which was weird for her. She didn’t make girlfriends easily; she’d always felt women didn’t like her too much. Apart from Alexa and Angie, she really didn’t have female friends. Now, of course, with the dance classes, she was getting to know a lot of women, and although some were still a bit reserved with her, those were the minority.

“How come I don’t know you?” Kyra asked. “I grew up here.”

“I didn’t. My parents divorced, and I was raised far away from here. I didn’t come to live in Alden until ten years ago.”

“I was around then.” Kyra frowned.

“Yeah, but ten years ago Rebecca, Greta, and my grandma didn’t get into the shenanigans they do now. Or maybe they did get into trouble, but they were younger, and we didn’t have to bail them out, so I didn’t have much contact with Mike.”

Well, that would explain it. And Kyra had been in college ten years ago, sharing an apartment with Mike. She hadn’t been in Alden herself too much.

“It has been these past five years when the whole thing has blown out of proportion,” Rachel continued. “Last time I had to promise free oil changes for the whole Alden police department car fleet indefinitely to get the OGs out of trouble. Thank God we’re only talking about three cars.”

“What did they do?”

“Oh, you don’t want to know, believe me,” Rachel said, shaking her head, and took a swig of her coffee. “But going back to your car. It’s a fantastic vintage piece.”

“What, my rusty granny?” Kyra joked.

Rachel blushed. “It was affectionate.”

“I know.”

“I would love to restore it. Bodywork too. I haven’t seen one of those for ages. You’ve seen my grandma’s car, right? That would be great publicity for my business. I could—”

Her phone chimed.

“And speaking of the devil.” As she read the message, she choked, spurting the coffee all over herself.

“You okay?” Kyra asked, patting her on her back.

“Not sure.” She cleaned herself with the napkin and then typed something. As she got an answer, she started laughing.

Kyra watched Rachel’s shoulders shaking in laughter. “Everything okay?”

“Sorry,” Rachel said, lifting her gaze to Kyra. “It’s my grandmother. I wish she’d stop texting. For everyone’s sake.”

At Kyra’s questioning stare, Rachel handed her the cell.

First message was from Wilma.

I’m lesbian now.

How long will you be fingering the cat?

Rachel’s answer was next.

WTH Grandma??

Pls read your messages before sending.

Next messages were from Wilma.

Oh my God!

*LEAVING now.

**FIXING THE CAR.

Jesus, Mary, and Jerome!

***JOSEPH. Damn auto erect!

In between laughter, Kyra noticed a new message arrive.

Poor, poor cat.

Smartphone, my behind.

“Wow, that was scary,” Kyra said while swiping her tears.

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I don’t remember when I laughed so hard. Ah, yes, it was when Rebecca sent me a poo emoticon that was supposed to be a Hershey’s Kiss.”

Rachel nodded. “Oh yeah. They checked the emoticons when they weren’t wearing their glasses, and it stuck, no matter how many times me and Mike have tried to tell them. Emoticons are bad, but that’s nothing compared with her texts, especially when my younger brother borrows her cell.”

* * * *

That evening Mike finished early and went to Kyra’s. The house was empty, but he heard talk and moved to the back door. Sam and Kyra were sitting on loungers, their backs to him. They were painting their toenails cotton-candy pink.

He leaned on the door frame, taking in the sight, soaking them in. They were singing something he recognized from their dancing video game.

In front of them was that small-assed inflatable…pisser with just a couple inches of water that Kyra deluded herself into calling a pool.

Suddenly Sam started humming and turned to her mother. “Mom, I like Mike. Can we keep him?”

Kyra laughed softly. “Sam, baby, Mike is not a dog. We can’t just keep him.”

“Why not? I think he likes being with us. I’m sure he would like to stay.”

“I’m housebroken already,” he said from behind them. “I won’t pee in the corners or eat your shoes. You may as well keep me.”

Kyra blushed. Sam just smiled at him brightly as Mike approached them. “I’d want to keep you even if you did all those things.”

“Thank you, baby girl. I’ll try to refrain anyway.” He sat down behind Kyra, straddling the lounger, and brought her back to his chest. “What are my women doing?”

“We are getting our nails pretty. I have a sleepover.” Sam beamed in explanation, wiggling her pink toes. “What do you think?”

“Cool.”

“They’re actually so cool,” Kyra added, “you’d better take the nail polish with you. All the girls are going to want you doing their nails.”

Her face lit. “Great idea, Mom. I’ll go get my bag ready.” She jumped from her seat and, throwing her small arms around Kyra, kissed her loudly.

“Do I get one of those too?”

Before he’d finished the sentence, Sam was hugging him and smooching his cheek.

She ran to the house, and Mike whispered to Kyra.

“For the record, baby, and in case there was any doubt, I’m all in for being kept.”

She smiled and wiggled her toes. “So I take it you like my nails too.”

That nail polish on Kyra looked fucking sexy.

“Yep. I’ll suck your toes tonight. One by one.” Her face fell. “After I fuck you.”

“Okay, I can work with that,” she said, chuckling.

God, he loved that she was as sexual as he was.

“By the way, honey,” she started, her tone sweetly deceptive. “Is there anything you want to tell me about my car?”

He’d known this was coming. He’d gotten a short, to-the-point text from Rachel.
Gig’s up
, it read.

“Besides that it’s a piece of rusty shit?”

“Yep, besides that. I was in Rachel’s garage today. You had no right.”

“I have all the right in the world. You drive that POS. You’re mine. I won’t have you in harm’s way.”

“I’m not—”

He cut her off with an amused snort. “What, mine? Of course you are.” Sam and Kyra were his.

She didn’t comment on that but tried another tactic. “You went behind my back.”

“Would you have agreed if I had asked? No, you wouldn’t. The repairs were long overdue. And you can consider yourself lucky, because if I thought I could have gotten away with it, I would have bought you a car and driven this one to the junkyard.”

“I don’t know that I can afford the repairs, Mike.”

“I never asked if you could. This is between Rachel and me. You try giving money to her, she won’t accept it. You try giving it to me, I not only won’t accept it, but I’ll get pissed too.”

“So it’s basically suck it up for me, right?” she complained.

He chuckled at her wording. “Only if you want to.”

She tried jabbing his ribs, but he tightened his grip on her. “And now that we’re on the subject, and you’re already mad at me,” Mike continued, “I want to tell you this pool will have to go. I want to use it too, and I’m going to need something deeper than that.”

“You have a kick-ass swimming pool at your parents’ place. You can use that one.”

“No. I want one I can use with you and Sam whenever we feel like it.” At her alarmed expression, he added, “I won’t bring a crew to dig a hole and install a pool tomorrow. I was thinking of getting a bigger one, you know, with a trampoline and such, but still a portable one that you can put away in the winter. You see, I’m compromising.”

“Mike—”

“Just humor me. It’s this or putting it up at my place. I doubt my wood floors would take it.”

“So I’m just doing you a favor,” she said, catching up fast on his strategy.

“Exactly.”

She exhaled a deep breath. “Any chance you’ll listen to me on this and take my opinion into consideration?”

“I always listen to you. Always, baby. And I take your opinion into consideration every time. The truth of the matter is, you need a better pool. I can afford it. I don’t see the problem.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t,” she grumbled.

He kept quiet, but he knew what the problem was; Kyra had always objected to not paying her way. He’d always wondered why. Now, after her opening up about her biological parents, he understood her hang-ups. Now he understood why she had to do things by herself. Still.

“Let me take care of you and Sam.” He closed his eyes and whispered in her ear, “I like taking care of you. I like it a lot.”

“We split the cost of the pool. And you don’t kidnap my car anymore.”

“Deal.”

In your dreams, baby.

He must have answered too fast and tipped her off, because she turned to him, looking suspiciously at him, but at that moment Sam came barreling to them, and Kyra got sidetracked.

“Let’s go, guys. I’m ready.”

Mike stood, and before Kyra scrambled to her feet, he scooped her into his arms and threw her over his shoulder.

“Mike!” she shrieked. “Put me down.”

“Trying to spare your nails. They might not be dry.”

Sam laughed, and Mike grinned at her.

“Don’t you dare hose me down again,” Kyra warned, slapping at his ass.

He winked at the kid. “Wouldn’t dream of. Right, Sam?”

Sam snorted.

“Look at this. My wife and daughter playing house with someone else,” he heard coming from the driveway.

He lifted his gaze and found Drake standing there.

Kyra stopped thrashing and laughing and went tense.

He put her down. She should have been red from being upside down, but she was white. Sam too. She moved behind him, pressing her face against the back of his thigh, her hands digging into him. She was scared.

“I don’t want to talk to you. Leave,” Kyra ordered as she took a step forward, but Mike pulled at her, placing his arm in front of her to protect her.

Drake sneered. “There’s something we need to discuss. You took some shit from me I want back.”

“She said she doesn’t want to talk to you. Beat it.” Then he turned to Kyra. “Baby, take Sam inside. I’ll take care of it.”

She was going to fight him, but at the last second she nodded and, grabbing her daughter, went back in.

“You’re Mike, right?” the asshole asked, contempt dripping from his tone.

“Yes.” He waited until the sounds from the steps faded and he heard the front door closing. He didn’t want to risk Sam hearing. “And you’re Drake, the bastard who ripped his wife off and left his daughter without shit. After sending her mother to jail.”

“She’s the one who offered me that deal during the divorce. And when it concerns jail, well, it’s every man for himself out there. Better her than me.” He gave Mike a disdainful once-over. “She called me by your name many times. At the beginning, when the bitch still deigned to talk to me.”

At the word “bitch” Mike growled and went toe-to-toe with him. “You will not call her ‘bitch.’ Or you will be picking your teeth up off the fucking floor.”

He ignored him. “Then I had to hear her mumbling your name in her sleep for years. You’re sort of a disappointment. After so much expectation, and so much hearing her say what a man you were, I’d imagine, I don’t know. Superman or something like that.”

“I’m not Superman, but I will break every bone in your body if you ever come here again and scare them. They belong to me now, and nobody mistreats what’s mine. In any way.”

“Yours?” Drake laughed. “You say it as if it were a source of pride. They are nothing but a waste of space. Demanding and never happy. A drag.”

In spite of Drake having a good twenty pounds on him, his reflexes were shit compared with Mike, who grabbed him by the throat and slammed the bastard against the side of the truck.

Moron didn’t have the good sense to stop talking even then. “And they’re yours for as long as I allow it. I start making demands for custody over the kid, and Kyra will do whatever the fuck I want her to do. I may. Just for the hell of it.”

Before Mike could answer, or punch his fist into Drake’s face, Mike heard Kyra’s voice coming from behind him.

“Not anymore. You get close to me or Sam again, and I’ll get a restraining order.”

“Baby, go inside,” Mike said quietly. “I’ll take care of this.”

Drake struggled. “Bitch, give me what you took from me or—”

He couldn’t finish, because now Mike’s forearm was pressing against Drake’s trachea.

“I told you not to call her that.”

“How dare you say I took something from you? I didn’t take shit, but if I had, it would be nothing compared with what you took from me.”

Drake didn’t answer. He was too busy turning blue and trying to break Mike’s hold on him.

“Inside, baby,” Mike repeated. “Sam is probably looking through the window. Go to her. I’ll clear the driveway of trash.” He waited again until Kyra disappeared, and then he turned to Drake. “She may get a restraining order against you, but I will kill you.” Mike slammed him against the truck again and released him. “What kind of man are you that you let her go to jail for your shit?”