BAD FOR ME: A Lords of Chaos MC Novel Page 2
* * *
The blaring of my alarm goes off and I roll over with a groan. I slam a finger down on my phone to stop the noise, then sit up to rub my eyes. I can’t even remember the last time I got to sleep in, but it can’t start now.
I get up and get ready. After picking out an outfit and a pair of shoes, I change and then leave my room. I check Silas’s bedroom and relief fills me as I spot him sprawled out on his bed, one of his legs dangling over the edge.
I smile as I close the door and make my way to the kitchen, starting a fresh pot of Colombian coffee I got from Nana Maria. She is good for that, I can say. While it brews, I pull out the eggs and bread to make scrambled eggs and toast.
It’s when the eggs are cooked that Silas trudges into the kitchen with a groan.
“Well, good morning, butthead,” I chime as he sits in his usual spot at the table. “What time did you get in last night?”
“I don’t know. Like around one, I guess.”
“Um, no you didn’t because I got here around one-thirty and you were nowhere to be found.” I thump the back of his head with my middle finger.
“Ow, Nova!” he hisses, frowning at me. I turn, not giving a damn how he feels about it. “I guess it must’ve been like two-something then. I can’t remember. I just came home when I started to get tired.”
“Yeah, yeah. Do you have to work today?”
“Yes.”
“Time?”
“Eight?”
“Okay, well I can’t drop you off because I have to be in by six-thirty. Can you catch a ride?” I ask as I place a plate full of eggs and toast down in front of him.
“Yeah, I’ll find a way. Don’t stress it.”
“Okay.” I nod, grabbing the jelly and some silverware and sitting across from him. “I can pick you up, though. Just let me know what time.”
“It’s cool, Nova,” he says with a tired smile. “You don’t have to worry about picking me up or dropping me off all the time. I can find ways home. I’m not a kid anymore.”
I scoff, smearing butter on my toast. “Well, if you’re an adult, you need a damn car. I’m just trying to help out, little bro.”
“Yeah, and I appreciate that, but I got this, big sis. I can find my own way around.”
I bite into my toast after smearing jelly on it, but it’s not until now that I realize there’s a cut on his lip. “What the hell? What happened to your lip?” I ask, pointing at it with a frown.
“Oh—uh, nothing. I was just fucking around with Omar. You know how we like to slap-box each other? He got me good one time, but I beat his ass and won.” He gives me a cocky smile.
“Ugh, I wish you two would stop doing that shit. It’s so childish.” I roll my eyes. “And you claim you’re not a kid anymore.”
“You just don’t understand it,” he says, laughing.
“And I don’t want to.” I take a long sip of my coffee. “So, there’s a position opening at my office. We need someone to scan papers, get coffee, and run errands. The pay is good.”
“I have a job, Nova,” he mutters, looking at me from beneath his lashes.
“Yeah, a job that pays you, like, three bucks an hour. You can’t be a waiter forever, Si.”
“The tips are good.”
“Bullshit! I used to be a waitress, okay? Tips here in Nirvana are fucking garbage.”
“Well, I’m good with where I’m at. And no offense, but I don’t want to be waking up every morning to your ugly mug and then seeing your ugly mug again at work, too. You ain’t that cute.”
I break out in a laugh and throw a chunk of egg at him. “You are such a little asshole!”
“Yeah, but you love me.” He finishes off his breakfast and then takes his plate to the sink. “I appreciate the food. I’ll go text Omar and see if he’ll swing by and give me a ride.”
I nod and smile, and he plants a kiss on my cheek swiftly before heading toward the hallway. “Thanks for breakfast, for real. Love you!” he calls as he walks out of the kitchen.
“Love you too!” I call back. I can’t fight my smile as I watch him round the corner to get to his bedroom.
My brother is my world. I know that one day he’ll have to be on his own and I’m not going to lie, it scares the shit out of me. He has so much to learn—hell, we both do—but for him, he has so much more to figure out.
That’s why it bothers me when Ellis is always trying to tell me to make Silas grow up. He’s all I’ve got. Kicking him out, or making him feel like he’s in my way, could mess him up even more than he is now.
He’s vulnerable when he’s alone, and I refuse to let him go down the same path our mother and grandparents did.
THREE
“We’ve got ourselves a stuck-up one today.” I look to my right at Carter, the photoshoot coordinator for the magazine. He’s dressed to impress, per the norm, flaunting a silky burgundy shirt and mustard yellow pants so tight that I wonder how he can even fit his junk in those things. I cringe at the burning curiosity of it. I don’t even think I could fit into those pants, and I’m as tiny as they come.
I get my petite size from my mother. She was an itty-bitty Latina thing—no taller than five-feet. My mother always said my dad was a dark-skinned asshole. I never understood what she meant by that until I got older, and that was the only thing we had ever agreed on. My father was an asshole.
He was an entitled black man who felt like he owned my mom, so she left him while she was pregnant with me. I only remember bits and pieces of who my father was. My mother would go back and forth to be with him but, ultimately, she walked away. I’m assuming it’s because she didn’t like the stability he provided, so she moved on. She ended up pregnant again a few years later, by some random Hispanic guy she did drugs with, and along came Silas.
When times were rough, it was my understanding that my father refused to help her out after the way she walked out on him. I had no idea why he took it out on me, considering I could have used his help growing up, but then I saw him at a grocery store one day. He had a wife and two daughters. He’d started another family. He saw me that day—looked me right in the eyes—and didn’t utter a word. Walked right past me like I meant nothing to him.
So, yeah, he is a dark-skinned asshole.
“Is she?” I ask, looking with Carter at the model. Her skin is a dark shade of brown, and she’s covered in glitter. Leaves stick out of her hair, and her lipstick is a bold, vibrant yellow. One of the photographers is talking to her and she’s rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
It’s the middle of summer and we’re already preparing for our fall catalogue. I have no idea who the designer is for this shoot, but I can see why the model is annoyed with what she’s wearing. She looks ridiculous with those leaves in her curly afro, and I’m sure the glitter on her skin is going to be a bitch to scrub off later.
“Yes, girl. I tried to get her to sign a few posters for me on her break. She rolled her eyes at me and walked away,” Carter says in a high-pitched, flabbergasted tone.
I laugh. “Are you sure she rolled her eyes, or were you talking way too much and annoying the poor girl?”
“No, I’m serious! All these social media models are so full of themselves! They get a couple of followers and likes and act like they rule the world, honey! I was just trying to be nice to her glittery ass.”
I giggle, adjusting the lens on my camera.
“Anyway, Harvey’s about to go on break and Camilla wants you up next to shoot.”
“Yep. On it.”
Carter walks off and as he does, I spot Crissy, one of my closest friends and co-workers, walking toward me with a clipboard.
Crissy always has this innocent flair about her. She’s a gorgeous Korean girl with amazing fashion sense. One thing I admire is that even in the face of adversity, she’s always positive, and after all the shit I’ve been through, it’s refreshing to have someone positive to talk to everyday. Today, Crissy is donning a tan polka dot dress and white espadri
lle wedge heels. Half of her sleek, ebony hair is braided into a halo.
“Hey, Nova!” she chimes.
“Hey, Criss. What are you doing down here?”
“Well, I was just in the lobby and I saw some guy talking to Regina. He was asking for you.”
“Really?” My brows shift up. “Was it Silas?”
“No, this guy is older, has some gray hair, nice body—kind of like a silver fox. He’s pretty hot,” she says with a blush.
I frown then, knowing exactly who she’s talking about. “Where is he?”
“He’s in the lobby. I told him you were doing a shoot today.”
“Okay, well can you tell him I will be a while? I can’t rush this shoot.”
“Okay, I’ll let him know.”
I watch her walk away, shaking my head in disbelief. I have no idea what Ellis is doing here. He’s really starting to push the limits of our little relationship though, that’s for sure.
When it’s my turn to shoot, I have a little chat with the model beforehand because what Carter and other people around here don’t realize is that these models are also humans. Yes, they may look good in photos and get a lot of likes and interaction on social media, but they still have feelings. In fact, I’ve heard that models, actors, and creatives in general are very emotional people.
When I talk to her, she actually smiles and when it’s time for me to shoot, I can tell from the first picture I take of her that she is comfortable with me. Her limbs are looser, and she makes good eye contact with the camera. The photography studio almost becomes a hush as everyone watches her in awe and, of course, I egg her on and tell her to give me face because that’s just what I do.
By the time we’re finished, she’s giving me a wide, white-toothed smile. “Oh, my gosh, Nova! Thank you for giving this shoot some life! I swear, I wasn’t feeling it until you told me to rock my leaves,” she laughs.
“Stop! That was the least I could do! I’m glad we could have some fun, and with your appeal, I’m sure these pictures will turn out amazing.”
“I hope so!” she chimes. “Listen, I’d love to shoot with you off set one day. I visit Nirvana a lot. My aunt lives here, and I like to come see her when I can. I’ll have my manager send you my email.”
“Of course, yeah! I’d love to do a shoot for you!”
“Perfect! See you later!” She spins around and I can’t fight my smile. If I get to shoot with this model one-on-one, it could change a lot of things for me. Maybe the little photography business I started up on the side will flourish a bit with her giving me credit.
I pack up my camera and leave the studio to go back to the main building. As soon as I walk in, I spot Ellis sitting in the waiting area.
“Oh, my gosh, Ellis!” I gasp. “Why are you still here?”
“I have nothing but time to kill today.” He shrugs, still smiling. He stands up from the chair he’s sitting in when I get closer. Sliding the fingers of his left hand into his front pocket, he walks my way and smiles.
“You didn’t have to wait,” I murmur, looking around the lobby. The only person around is Regina, the receptionist. “Um…so what made you stop by?” I ask, hoping not to sound too harsh.
“I figured I’d surprise you by taking you out to lunch,” he says.
“Oh.”
He quickly backtracks with, “It’s harmless, I promise. I just kept thinking about you saying you wanted to go out places, and figured lunch would be a good start.”
“Oh.” I smile. “Well, yeah. Lunch is good. I just finished my shoot. Figured I’d take lunch before coming back to edit some pictures. I guess we can grab some together.”
He gives me a sweet smile. “Okay, good, because I know the perfect place.”
“Okay, let me go get my bag and I’ll meet you back down here.”
I walk to the elevator, glancing over my shoulder after hitting the ‘up’ arrow. Ellis smiles at me as I do. When I’m on board and the doors close, my smile fades.
Surprises are not my thing, but I guess I can’t blame him for trying.
* * *
Sushi.
I laugh because I can’t believe he remembers this, and not only that, he remembers the exact place where I like to eat my sushi. There aren’t many sushi joints around this area—I mean we live in a desert for heaven’s sake—but the sushi here is fresh and incredible.
“I seriously can’t believe you remembered!” I exclaim as we take a seat at a booth. “I told you about this place when we first met and were naming our favorite restaurants in Nirvana.”
“It’s hard for me to forget little details like that.” He picks up the menu. “But I have to confess, I’ve never eaten sushi before.”
“What?” I gasp. “Never?”
He smiles over the menu. “Never.”
“Well, since you’re a beginner, I would go with the crispy California rolls. They’re really good.”
“Alright. Crispy Cali it is.”
The waiter appears and takes our orders. When she walks away, I place a hand under my chin and look at Ellis. “You know, it’s not like you to just pop up and surprise me. What made you do it today?”
“I don’t know,” he replies earnestly. “I guess I was just bored.”
“Bored? Really?” I fight a smile.
“And I wanted to see you.”
“And?”
“And…I wanted to talk to you about last night.”
I straighten up a bit. “What about last night?”
“I didn’t mean to bring up Mary like that,” he says after clearing his throat.
I wave a hand. “Ellis, it’s fine. I told you, I don’t mind that you talk about her. She was your wife, after all.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want you to think I’m comparing you to her or anything. Of course, I still think about her every day, but lately I’m starting to realize that I’m thinking about you a lot, too.”
I sit back against the cushion of the booth. I don’t even know what to say to that, so I don’t say anything at all.
“But let’s not make this weird.” He sighs, and smiles. “How was the photoshoot?”
“Uh, well, it was good. The model was comfortable with me and I think I got some really good shots for the magazine. We’ll see how my boss feels when I edit them. Hopefully he likes them.”
“You captured the shots, Nova. I’m sure they are great.”
I blush.
He reaches across the table and grabs my hand. Taking it in his, he gives it a squeeze, and I smile at him. Just as I’m about to say something, I hear a familiar rumble. I turn and look out of the window we’re sitting right beside and spot a motorcycle. The first bike I see is black and chrome with a large-bodied person sitting atop it. I notice the familiar black leather vests and feel a clench in my stomach.
Another biker rides by.
Then another.
And one more.
They ride past the restaurant slowly, observing their surroundings, and acting like they own the damn place. One of them looks through the window of the restaurant and stares right at me. I try and pull away, but I can’t, so I end up staring right back at him. He looks across from me to Ellis, and Ellis tightens his grip around my hand. His grip becomes tighter with each passing second and I hiss and yank my hand away.
“Ellis! What the hell?” I snap.
The bikers ride past the restaurant and out of view, and Ellis finally makes a move, looking down at the table before focusing on me.
“Ellis?” I call. What the hell is wrong with him?
“I, uh…” He drags a palm over his face. “I apologize, Nova.”
“Why did you just freak out like that?”
“I didn’t,” he counters.
“You literally just squeezed my hand to death,” I say, flinging my fingers in the air and forcing a laugh.
“I apologize,” he murmurs. “Just don’t like those guys very much.”
I start to ask him what’s wrong, but the wa
itress appears with our food, placing it in front of us. I thank her, and when she walks off, I put my attention on Ellis again. He’s eating his sushi now, acting like nothing even happened.
The door of the restaurant swings open and then slams shut. “You know the president of that gang was raised by wolves?” a guy says to his friend as they walk into the restaurant. I take a bite of my sushi, but can’t help rolling my eyes at that statement.
“Dude, what?” his friend guffaws. “That sounds so fucking stupid!”
“No, seriously! My dad told me there was a story going around about a teenager who was spotted in the woods somewhere in Arizona, and when they found him, he was surrounded by this huge pack of wolves. Someone saved him and everyone thinks it was someone from that biker club. But the crazy thing is the wolves didn’t attack him at all. My dad says they were protecting him or some shit.”
“That’s bullshit!” the friend laughs as they sit. “Sounds like a tall tale, man.”
“That’s what they say, and you know the shit that happens around here is real. He took over that gang, didn’t he? It can’t all be fake.”
“If it’s true, I can see why they listen to him. He probably has a wolf or something at his place, ready to attack whoever pisses him the fuck off.”
“Yeah. Good thing we’re only here for the weekend. I don’t know why my dad still lives in this fucked-up city.”
They start talking about sports and I take another bite of my sushi, pretending I wasn’t listening. I peer up and Ellis isn’t eating anymore.
“You don’t like it?” I ask, pointing to his uneaten food.
“No, it’s good,” he assures me.
“So, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you eating?”
“Just lost my appetite I guess.”
I purse my lips a moment, then place my chopsticks down. “Is it because of that biker gang?”
He looks past me and locks his eyes on the front door of the restaurant. “I’m not worried about them.”
“Ellis, you saw them and looked like you’d seen a ghost.” And almost broke my damn hand in the process, I want to add.