38. Bellamy

THIRTY-EIGHT

bellamy

"Not going to church…You should be ashamed of yourself." Pops shook his head and closed the front door.

I looked at Drew. "He's not going to church. He's going gambling."

"I'd rather play poker than go to church," she mumbled.

Mom bustled around the corner with a full face of make-up.

Everything about her looked ten years younger because that asshole was out of the house. The restraining order was now official, and I couldn't be happier. They'd given dad a court date, although he'd gotten out on bail.

"I'm taking Arlo over to Genie's," she said, "and I'm going to stay and talk."

Because she'd never been able to just go do things on her own outside of work or grocery shopping. He wouldn't let her. She felt like she had to explain. And that made me feel like I should have beat that fucker's ass to the point of death long ago.

"Love you, baby." She leaned over the couch and kissed the top of my head.

"Love you, too."

Arlo raced into the room, exchanging some weird handshake with Drew before he followed Mom out the door.

"Hey! Butthole!" I called over the back of the couch. "Are you going to tell me bye?"

He ducked his head around the front door. "Bye, Bubba!" Then he was gone.

"I'm his favorite." Drew smirked.

"Good to know his loyalty can be bought with Push-Pops." I leaned over, sinking my hand between her thighs. "Just like this pussy."

"Rude."

"It's really not." I slammed my lips over hers, threading my fingers through her hair before I slipped my tongue between her lips. The more I was around her, the more I couldn't get enough of her.

The alarm on my phone went off, and I tossed my head back on the couch. "Shit. I gotta go do something." I pushed to my feet. "Come on."

A slow smile overtook her face. "Is it something illegal?"

This girl liked a thrill too much, and I liked that she liked it. "Of course."

We pulled up to Hendrix's house, and Drew lifted a brow as we climbed out. "Should've known."

Hendrix opened the door, took two steps out, then shook his head. "This is bullshit, Bell." He pointed at Drew. "That right there is walking, fucking bullshit."

"Shut up, Hendrix." I shoved past him into the living room and toward the back porch.

"Seriously. You seriously brought Drucella over here for our man shit. You disappoint me." Hendrix kicked open the screen door, mumbling under his breath as we followed him outside.

"He's prickly today," Drew whispered.

"He's always prickly."

Hendrix cut through the overgrown grass to the tarp-covered car at the back of his lot. He tossed the cover off, revealing an old Chevy Dodger with a cracked windshield and missing hood.

"What is that?" Drew lifted a brow.

Hendrix sighed. "Bell, you're dating a girl who doesn't even know what a car is."

Drew flipped him off. "That is barely a car." Then she glanced at me. "Is this stolen?"

"Yeah."

Hendrix took a pair of pliers from the toolbox, scowling at Drew. "Is that car stolen, she asked. Like we'd just have shit sitting around. God, rich girls." He moved toward the car and leaned over the engine. "Wolf and I are going to another revival this week. If you can get away from Medusa, you should come."

I had no reason to go to that crap with them. "I'm not trying to pick up girls, asshole."

"Oh." He glanced over at Drew and rolled his eyes. "That's right. You've gone all pussy and shit. Fine. We'll keep the virgins to ourselves."

"Whatever, Hendrix." I grabbed a razor blade from the kit and went to the driver's side to file off the VIN number.

Drew leaned against the side of the car. "I'm sorry. You're going to church revivals. To get laid."

"Yeah." Hendrix cackled. "I caught me two virgins with one hook."

I glanced through the windshield just as Hendrix pulled at his crotch.

"So wait. You got two virgins into a three-way?" Drew asked.

I shook my head, climbing out of the car to grab the number from the doorjamb. "Don't ask him shit about it. Just pat his back and—"

"Call me Casanova." He chucked the pliers at me. "And screw you for not wanting to know more, you dickdribble."

Drew's phone rang. Then rang again, and again.

"Irina." There was a pause before she turned away from us. "No, I am not putting you on video. Why? You wouldn't—Fine. Jesus." She glanced around before turning her back to the yard and holding her phone in front of her face.

"Where on earth are you?" A woman's voice came over the speaker.

"Out."

"Is that—are you doing charity work?"

"No! Look, can I call you later?"

"Your father tells me you've run off with a Dayton boy, a criminal. Ruined his house. He's very concerned about your well-being. You need to return home, Drucella."

Hendrix's ears perked up at that comment. He shoved away from the engine, stalking toward her. "Who's that Drewbers?"

The glare Drew leveled on him could have made hell freeze over.

"Is that him?" The woman sounded alarmed. "Are you in a ghetto?"

Drew's face went red. "Mom! Will you stop? I will call—"

Something inside of me snapped. "No. That's not him," I said, moving toward Drew. I snatched the phone from her hand. Then stared at the dark-headed woman with a face full of makeup and puffed-out cheeks. "This is him. What's up, Momma?" I lifted my chin, then swiped a hand over it.

Hendrix cackled in the background. "Yes! You just went from pussy-ass bitch to stunner, Bell."

Drew tried to snatch the phone, but I held it out of her reach. "You just called her Momma!"

The woman stared at me for a moment, then brought a glass of wine to her red lips. " Are you a criminal, young man?"

"Depends on what your definition of one is."

Drew jumped up and managed to grab the phone. "No, Bellamy is not a criminal. Yes, I trashed his house because I had a party because he forgot my birthday. Also, dad called me a whore. Thank you for the Porsche. I love you, and I will call you later!"

"Bisous, darling."

Then she hung up and turned on me. "You," she poked my chest, "And you!" Then she jabbed at Hendrix. "I can't."

I lifted a brow. "The ghetto…"

"She's sheltered! She lives in Saint Tropez and thinks champagne is an appropriate breakfast option."

And this was the girl I was falling for. Hard and fast, like an idiot skydiver without a parachute.