9. Vex

9

VEX

T he hot water feels good as it sluices over my body in my bathroom at the clubhouse.

So does the palm wrapped tightly around my cock.

I stroke hard and fast, thinking about that kiss.

The way Calista's tongue felt against mine, how soft her lips were, how she tasted of whiskey and something more. And then there was the way her cunt lined up against my cock in a way that made me want to strip her naked and fuck her over the sofa in Mrs. Moray's living room.

How she dismissed me takes the edge off the sensation for a second, but I put the thought into a box to deal with later. Because right now, I want to play out in my mind just what would have happened if she'd let me unzip those jeans of hers so I could slide my thick fingers through her lips. So I could push them inside her, applying pressure to her clit, until she came apart.

Bet she doesn't scream. Bet she barely tells you how she's feeling, so that when you finally make her come, you feel like you slayed a dragon.

And I think about how good it would feel to strip that icy veneer from her skin. Make her melt for me. Bring back the adventurous and carefree girl I remember and explore the grown woman she is now.

"Fuck," I huff as the sensations grow, as I finally allow my hand to slide over my sensitive head.

My leg twitches at how good it feels. I'm really fucking close.

I wonder what she'd look like riding my face. Would she let me tie her to my bed frame and give up that control to me? I imagine her ankles suspended by rope from the hook there, open and spread. Fuck, what would it look like to rail her until she couldn't speak?

In my head, she has thick lips down there that hug my cock.

The mental image of my cock sliding in and out of her is enough to tip me over the edge. I slam a palm to the shower wall and let the spray wash over me as I come in thick spurts.

My legs shake, my breathing unsteady, my eyes closed.

All I can think of is I made out with Calista Moray. And I felt more in those fifteen seconds with her than I have in years.

I finish off my shower in a bit of a daze.

Then, I wrap a towel around my waist and look at myself in the mirror. I'm not sure who I thought I would become. A conversation I had with Switch recently comes to me. He was talking about fate. About the role it had played in his and Sophia's relationship, using the analogy that rivers always run where they want to go, even if it takes a hundred years of wearing down rocks.

But I wonder if that's true. I have to believe I'm the master of my own destiny. There's no point in pretending that the life I have right now was an accident or some fated design. I have to own it. Circumstance, life, whatever. They are all the sum of my own decisions.

Yet, there are days when I wonder if this is all there is.

Yes, it's a life. But where's the progress?

Some days feel like lather, rinse, repeat.

"When everyone hates you, you're tired. When you hate the world, you're hungry," I say to myself.

I'm running on fumes. That's why all this is losing perspective.

Once I've pulled on some clothes, I walk to the kitchen. King sits at the large stainless-steel counter, and it looks like Rae is just about to cook them some food.

"Vex," King says as I walk in.

"Hey. I can come back later," I say.

"No," Rae says. "Please, stay. You want some food?"

I raise my hand. "No, honestly, I'm?—"

"Sit," King says. His tone says there's no room for negotiation.

"Yes, Prez," I say with a smirk as I take the stool next to him.

"You cool if I tell him why, Duchess?" King says.

She nods. "Go ahead."

"Rae has had issues with making food for other people. Couldn't cook it, couldn't eat it, couldn't enjoy it. She's been working on it. Would suck if you walked away after she was brave enough to offer to cook for you."

I look up at King's old lady. "Sorry, sweetheart. Hope the cause has been dealt with."

King nods. "Smashed her father's face in with his own skillet myself."

I hold my fist out to King, and he bumps it with his own.

"What are we eating?" I ask.

"Oh, nothing fancy. Was just going to make some chicken, feta, and roasted vegetable focaccia sandwiches. Might not even taste that good."

"Duchess," King warns. "They'll taste great."

She smiles at that. "Could you get me a glass of wine from the bar, please?"

King looks around, and I'm sure it's to see if there's a prospect lingering around. When he sees there is no one else here, he gets up. "You want a beer?" he asks.

"Do I ever." My plan is to get so hammered that I fall asleep whether I want to or not. I might even grab some of the sleeping pills Switch keeps in the medical room for me.

I hate them because I can't wake up if I'm needed in the middle of the night for something. Twice when I've taken them, I've missed important shit.

I missed a fucking snowstorm once when I finally fell asleep after being awake for three days. Meant Rae was stranded in King's cabin without the most basic heat.

"You doing okay?" Rae asks as she slices the hot chicken breast.

I find Rae easy to speak to usually. But I'm struggling with the ache of tiredness in my body. I'm also struggling to reconcile the untruths. The explanation as to how I became an Outlaw has shifted over time. It's suited me to never correct it because it supported the story I always intended to join.

"Narrative's weird, isn't it?" I say.

"Now that's an interesting question. In what context?"

I shrug. "You know, like, how memory drifts. How facts shift. How people describe events over time."

Rae nods. "I listened to this podcast once about how famous people have gotten found out for lying. But, as you listen to the stories, you start to see how it happens. A minor embellishment yields personal reward. Everything from a personal dopamine hit to suddenly campaigning on a political platform based on a military history you just don't have. Things snowball. And suddenly, even if you're conscious of it, you can't unwind it."

I follow a scouring pattern on the stainless steel with my fingertip. "Yeah, I guess, over time, you forget what the actual truth is. Suppose you see that when there's a major incident. People see what they want to see and start sharing their perspective right away. And then you get this polarization of what the truth is."

A beer bottle gets placed next to me. "Those sound like deep thoughts."

I look up at King and grin. "It's your old lady. She levels up my conversation game. She's the smartest person in this place."

Reminds me of Calista.

King hands Rae a glass of white wine and something sweet passes between them unspoken. He holds her gaze, like he's proud of her. She looks at him like she knows he'll go to the ends of the earth for her.

I want to know what that feels like in the marrow of my bones.

"Help me make her understand why Valentine's Day would be the perfect date to marry me," King says. "She wants to wait until summer because the flowers will be cheaper."

"Because they'll be in bloom, not because they'll be cheaper." Rae grins. "Also, because it will be sunny. Not cold. Not snowy."

"Far be it from me to end up in the middle of a pre-marital spat between my Prez and his old lady, but she does have some good points. Let me hear yours, Prez."

King groans and looks up at the ceiling. "Because she's already made me wait nearly a year. Didn't want to marry me last summer because it was too soon. Told me she wanted to be engaged for at least a year. I just want to fucking marry her, because Mrs. Hills sounds so much better than Miss Miller. I want my fucking wife more than I want flowers or sunshine."

Both Rae and I look at King with our mouths open.

"What?" he says before necking half his bottle of beer.

"Fine," Rae says. The word is filled with unspoken emotion. "February fourteenth it is."

King grins, his bottle of beer to his lips. "Good."

"I'm impressed, Prez," I say. "You almost had me believing in romance for a second."

King glances my way. "Far be it from me to gossip, but Saint says you and some chick got into it when you ran that errand together for me." He glances for a millisecond in Rae's direction while she busies herself finding something in the fridge. I catch his drift. The girls don't know Saint bought a ring for Briar. Probably a good idea, seeing they have a group chat and are a bunch of gossips.

"Old news," I say, and take a swig of beer.

"Old news that needed yours and Switch's help today?" King asks.

"Fuck me. Why does everyone know my business?"

King chuckles. "Niro. Who heard it from Sophia."

I shake my head. "For the record, it's her mom who needs the help. She's my mom's neighbor, and the woman was her daughter."

King looks at me, staring with his eyebrows raised.

"Fuck you," I say when he doesn't look away. "Haven't seen her in years."

"Leave the man alone," Rae says, pushing the finished sandwiches in front of us.

"Smells good," I say. "Thanks, Rae."

"My pleasure. I'm just going to run and get my sweater. Back in a minute."

I wait until she is out of hearing range. "The Sicilians have trouble with a hacker," I say. "Sophia told Alessio about me. Now, he'd like me to go look at what's going on. See if I can find out whether they've been successful, that kind of shit. Said I'd speak to you about it."

King takes a large bite of the sandwich and chews as he thinks. I follow his lead. The salty bite of feta blends perfectly with the herbed focaccia, peppers, onions, and chicken.

He places the sandwich down on the plate. "Tell him you'll do it for a favor or a fee. We aren't a charity. And as much as I'm growing to like Sophia, she doesn't get to pimp you out to her family."

"Understood. I'll come up with a consulting bill. But what if it's the Irish?" I ask. It's deliberate. I want to get ahead of the narrative of who this is. I don't intend to blame Cillian or any of his men. But I need the trail to lead away from Calista if it is her.

And I want to know what King would do to the perpetrator.

"Then you tell Alessio and get the fuck out of dodge. Cillian revealed his true colors. He might have said we were spineless in trying to avoid a war with the Sicilians, but the man is going to get himself killed if he keeps making enemies with everyone."

I think about the Irishman. "Kind of respect his balls, though. He might not be playing smart, but he bows to no one. I can admire that."

King nods as he chews another mouthful. "That might be the only reason I give him a heads-up if you find out it is him."

"Fair play. I'll go set it up." I grab my plate and beer and head into my tech room. The lamp on my desk gives me enough light to find my way around, but not so much it's an overload when all my monitors flicker to life.

I think about the shit I've recorded and watched and hacked and managed from here. It's been a balls-to-the-wall kind of existence. It's had its life-affirming moments and death. Happiness and sadness. The highs and lows that add up to a harsh yet spectacular life.

And as I hear Rae and King laugh outside in the kitchen, I remember a time when that would have been Calista and me. Braiding the past with the present is a challenge as I try to reconcile our former friendship with the way she left, and how good it felt to hold her in my arms, pressed up against that goddamn wall.

Yet, figuring it out could be the answer to both our futures.