Page 8 of Guilty For You


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“I know how long it’s been.” I shuddered hearing it out loud. “It’s my vagina after all.”

She pursed her lips and sighed again. “I just want you to be happy.”

I smiled at her and then leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I think I’ve lost too much to truly ever be happy again, Maddie.” I said honestly, admitting my greatest fear for the first time in five years. “I think this is all I am anymore. And I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from pointing out where I’m lacking.”

“I didn’t mean to make it sound bad.” She cringed.

I snorted and opened the fridge to figure out what to make for dinner, “Yes you did. But that’s okay, just don’t do it again.”

“Mama,” Penelope interrupted our conversation moseying into the kitchen, “I’m hungry.”

I smiled at my sweet baby with her dark hair and sea glass green eyes, “I’m on it, Toots.”

“Good.” She said and climbed up in a chair at the table, “Because Aunt Maddie can’t cook, and she always burns the freezer pizza when you’re not home.”

“Hey!” My baby sister objected, “I do not.”

My daughter rolled her eyes at her and smirked at me knowingly.

These two were all I needed.

“Hey, big tits,” A gruff voice called from behind me, “Get me another Bud.”

I fought the urge to tell him to fuck off as I rang out another tab at the computer and schooled my face before turning around.

“If you ask nicely, I’ll think about it.” I smirked and leaned over the bar top to pick up his glass.

“Please,” he looked directly at my tits that I laid on the wood for him to admire. “Can I have another Bud?” He was one of my usual customers, but I’d be damned if I could remember his name. I did know he drank no less than a dozen drafts every time he came in and tipped twenty-five bucks ahead of time each night. So he could call me whatever he wanted as long as he paid his cash up front.

“Yes, you may.” I smiled sweetly at him and pulled another draft for him. “Didn’t your mama ever teach you that you get further with honey than vinegar?” I asked him.

“Hmm.” He snorted with his friends and tilted his head to look down at my ass. “You got enough honey for both of us, baby.”

“Nah,” I grimaced, “I’m all whiskey at this point in my life. The only thing I attract anymore is crotchety old men like you.” I winked at him and moved down the bar to another customer as they roared with laughter. I could almost hear the big tips cha-ching in the tip jar from their drunk asses.

“Hey,” Lora said, sliding up next to me. “Taz is here.”

I froze punching in the order I’d been doing and looked at her, “With his whole crew?”

“Mmh-hmm.” She nodded and grabbed a liquor bottle off the shelf. “Just a heads up.”

“Thanks.” I groaned and got back to what I was doing.

I avoided the crew for as long as I could, letting my other customers keep me busy enough to ignore them. But Taz always gravitated towards my end of the bar when I was working, and his crew was big enough to push out anyone that had been sitting there until I had no choice but to acknowledge them.

“Fellas.” I said with a sweet smile while wiping down the bar top, “What can I get ya?”

“Well you can start by going out for a smoke with me on your next five-minute break.” Taz said, looking at me up and down as he licked his lips.

In terms of scum bags, he was alright to look at. He was tall and in somewhat good shape with a good head of hair and nice teeth. He was near my age, a bit older if I had to guess. But that was where his good features ended. He was the ringleader of a small time MC that had just moved to the area and from what I could tell from the locals’ chatter, they weren’t welcome.

But that didn’t stop them.

They were the bad penny crowd just like JJ’s crew had been back home. They didn’t belong but they were just big enough to push their weight around to cause trouble.

There was already an MC in the area, The Black Eagles, who were notoriously private and lethal. No one even dared to talk about them, for fear that The Eagles would appear out of thin air and retaliate if it was negative in anyway.

So I knew Taz and his crew, The Riders, were living on borrowed time. And I didn’t want to be anywhere near him when the shit hit the fan.

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