Royally Broken (Royal Bastards MC: Royal Sons CA) Page 8

  “One day you won’t have the protection of those tapes, Palmer. When that happens you better run.” He signed the papers giving her the home and a significant settlement. He glared one last time, not even bothering to look at Jaxson before he spun on his shiny loafers, nearly colliding with the doorframe. He righted himself, straightening his jacket but didn’t look back as he swung the door open, slamming it hard enough the pictures rattled on the wall.

  Palmer let out the breath she’d been holding, her hand went to the back of Jaxson’s head. “It’s okay, baby, he’s gone. I’ll protect you from the big bad wolf.”

  After she’d caught him with his pants down around his ankles, leaning against his desk in his office, a man she had never seen before on his knees sucking Thomas like a machine, she had been shocked. No, she’d been almost paralyzed in fear. Her husband held the other man’s head with both his hands, forcing his head to move. She heard the whimpers the young man made, realizing he wasn’t a willing participant. With Jaxson in her arms, she was scared of Thomas hurting her or the baby who was only a few days old. Still, she made sure the young man wasn’t hurt any worse than she’d been, knowing the brutality of Thomas firsthand. Her fingers went to her mouth, remembering the way her mouth had been sore for weeks the first time he’d...raped her.

  Noise from the office, so familiar, so gut churning had tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “That’s it. Now, get up and don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who came to me for money. This is your repayment.” Thomas zipped his pants up. “Next time I’ll bend you over my desk and take your ass. You ever have a dick up there, boy?”

  “I’m not gay.”

  Thomas grabbed him by the back of his head, putting their foreheads together. “Neither am I, but you got a sweet mouth and I bet an even sweeter ass.” He kissed the kid.

  Palmer realized the young man was a kid. Not a young man, but a kid.

  Her mind reeled at the realization of just what Thomas had done. She moved back, hiding in the alcove when the boy left, his shoulders slumped while he wiped tears from his eyes. She wanted to storm into Thomas’s office, wanted to tell him want a monster he was. Her son sleeping so peacefully, her body still sore from his birth kept her back.

  “Ah, fuck yeah,” Thomas muttered.

  Hearing his voice, and the tone which sounded like he was excited, she crept back to the crack in the door she’d been at before. There, on the large monitor of his computer screen she watched as Thomas watched himself and the boy. From the angle of the video, she quickly scanned behind the bastard, noticing a camera between the books. Unbelievable, but not really since he was a narcist. A jarring apprehension hit her. If he videoed all his dalliances, then more than likely, he had ones with her and him, ones that were so humiliating she wanted to throw up. No matter what the cost, Palmer planned to search his files and get those videos. If she’d learned anything from her grandfather, it was to use what you had to get the upper hand.

  She walked back to her wing of the house. It was not her home, never would be. It had taken her almost a year to complete her tasks of getting free with the evidence she needed. Almost a year and her bastard of a husband’s death, but she’d gotten it.

  Coming back to the present, she bent down to look at all the baby food choices. Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to mix bananas, carrots, and mangos? Or prunes and apples? “Blech,” she grumbled.

  “I agree. Who the heck thought a kid should eat kale for fuckssake?”

  Palmer turned her head at the deep timbered voice, startled to see a pair of black biker boots. Her eyes followed them up to a pair of black jeans. Holy crap on a cracker, the man has a bulge that would make any sane woman think twice about trying him on. He wore a black T-shirt with a black leather jacket, making her heart nearly burst as she saw a pair of stunning dark eyes, eyes she’d thought to never see again. “Silas,” she whispered.

  He squatted down, putting his finger over his lips. “Ssh, my name is Keys. Damn, you sure look pretty, Miz Palmer.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

  Palmer licked her lips, feeling like a teenager with her first crush. Heck, he was her first crush. “You’re here.” Gah, she slapped her forehead. “Of course, you are. I mean, lawd, I’m making a fool of myself. Hang on, let me remove my foot from my mouth and start over.” She smiled, feeling as though the first ray of sunshine in a shitstorm had finally appeared.

  “Are you really gonna make your kid eat this?” He held up a container of baby food, his face showing his disgust.

  She reached for it, their fingers brushing. Her breath froze at the electric feel of touching him for the first time in what seemed a lifetime. For her it had been. To cover up for her wildly racing heart, she looked down at the label. “It says right here it’s made of all natural organic.”

  He snatched it back. “All natural my ass. No kid wants kale. Trust me. I live in California and they pass this shit off at every restaurant. The only ones who actually buy it are the model types and Hollywood stars. I bet even those fuckers go into the bathroom and puke that shit up. Ain’t that right, kid?”

  Palmer’s mind whirled at the first up-close and personal view of the sweet young man who’d left such a hole in her heart. Silas DeMarcus had been a gorgeous teenager. The man standing before her was nothing like the kid who’d left. Yes, he was every bit as handsome, only the man was so much more now. He was bigger, taller, and even better looking in a dangerous way that would turn any woman’s head. If she were a betting woman, she’d wager even straight men turned to watch him walk by. Case in point, the entire store seemed to be finding a reason to walk by or down the aisle where they were.

  She’d thought about him so many times over the years, wondered what happened to him. Never had she imagined him looking the way he stood before her.

  Keys hand moved, lifting her chin up. “Didn’t your granddaddy teach you it wasn’t polite to stare at men like that, sunshine?”

  The nickname caught her off guard. Only he’d ever called her that and it had only been a handful of times. She opened her mouth to refute his words when a little cry from behind her brought her out of the stupor Silas’s presence caused. “Dang it, you make me lose all sense of who, what, and where I am, Silas DeMarcus,” she muttered, turning toward her son.

  If there was one thing, she’d learned from her mistakes it was that men were fickle beasts who weren’t to be trusted.

  “Hey there, little man. You getting hungry? Do you think you’d like kale?” she asked, unstrapping him from the stroller before his little cry could turn into a full out wail.

  “He looks just like you, Palmer. Right down to your cornflower blue eyes. Or did his father also have those color eyes?”

  She lifted her son up to her shoulder, bouncing him up and down. Goodness, nobody told her a teething baby would be so hard. She wondered if the Bed and Breakfast she had moved into would kick them out if he was too fussy. “No, my...his father had brown eyes.”

  The thought of her sweet boy having anything that resembled the late Thomas Kincaid made her stomach cramp. Her child was the only thing good from her marriage.

  “What are you shopping for besides baby food?” Keys eyed the shelves, then turned his dark stare back to her.

  “Um, some milk and chips. I’m buying shit snacks, sue me.” She glared at the woman staring at them as she passed.

  Silas raised a brow. “A woman after my own heart. How bout I push your stroller while you hold Hoss there?”

  She laughed at the nicknames. Her son was no little nugget by anyone’s imagination. At his last doctor’s appointment, he’d been in the ninety percentiles in both height and weight. That was one thing he did get from the Kincaid’s or maybe the Coker’s since her side did tend to have tall men. As for her, she’d only ever been called her given name.

  “Thank you.” She selected a couple different things for Jaxson to try. He’d been eating baby food for several months, but she
didn’t have the ones that had been specially made and delivered just for him, with her. The fact his...father, goodness, she couldn’t even think about Thomas Kincaid in regard to Jaxson without pain. He was a monster, a dictator in every aspect even what their son was allowed to eat when he wasn’t nursing. Thomas had told her a company that specialized in all organic baby food would be delivering his food weekly to their home. At first, she’d feared he was going to hurt her son, but then she’d researched the business and found they were legitimate, she was fine with them. For all the bastard’s faults, he was actually doing something good, or as she’d found, he wanted to control one aspect of her life with Jaxson.

  “You have a very pensive look, sassy girl.” His hand gripped her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

  Palmer swallowed; nervous he’d see through her tough girl veneer. “What? We’re in the middle of the local food market chatting. I’m a new widow talking with a gorgeous stranger. Imagine what the old biddies are gonna say at the sewing circle this Thursday.”

  Chapter Five

  Keys brushed his thumb along Palmer’s lips, loving her response to his nearness. Her words registering like a sucker punch. She was a widow. He had no competition to eliminate. Alright, he admitted it. He’d planned to seduce her and then steal her from the loser of a husband. All’s fair in love and war. And where Palmer was concerned, it would’ve been war between him and whatever man stood in his way. He hadn’t planned it, not until he’d seen her walking into the store pushing a stroller. He’d been sure he could come, see what was going on and get out without scraping the scab off of the need he’d had for her. Even then he’d thought he could control the bastard within him. He was wrong.

  “Should we give them something to talk about?” he asked her, still stroking her soft, totally kissable lips with his thumb. Her breath moistening the digit made his dick a jealous part of his anatomy.

  “Silas, don’t you dare,” she whispered.

  He stilled, hating that name. “I’m not Silas anymore, sweetheart. Call me Keys. And, sassy girl, you’ll learn I dare so fucking much,” he told her in a harsh tone he regretted almost instantly. Dammit, why did her saying one word, one name, have such a visceral effect on him?

  She took a step backward, putting distance between them. “I apologize. I...I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  Palmer turned toward the stroller, attempting to put the fussy baby down. His wail was one of outrage, and loud enough that if anyone in the store had thought the two of them were messing around, they would know they had an audience of one.

  “Hey there, hoss man. What’s the problem?” Keys squatted down so that he was face to face with the red-faced boy.

  The little boy quieted, his big blue eyes blinked, wet tears gleaming on the extremely long lashes women paid good money for. As Keys watched, his bottom lip began to quiver.

  “Ah, now, none of that.” He reached in, scooping the kid into his arms. “Come on, how about I carry you while your mama picks out some yucky food. I bet you like the view from up here. I’ll let you in on a secret between you and I. Up here, we see a lot of things those who are vertically impaired don’t.” Keys winked down at Palmer.

  “Um, what are you doing?” she asked.

  Keys jerked his head to the side. “Clearly, me and wee man here are having a meeting of the minds. Ain’t that right, little buddy?” Keys found himself pressing his forehead to Jaxson’s when the little boy began blathering. Sure, he got a shitload of drool down the front of his leather jacket. Hell, he was probably the first Royal Bastard who would say that, and it be from a baby not an ole lady. But hey, the kid had stopped crying, so it was a win.

  “Si...err I mean, Keys. You realize he’s liable to throw up on you right?” Palmer pushed the stroller next to them, her question was asked in a calm manner like she was telling him the weather was mild, not that her kid was gonna ruin his jacket.

  He pulled his head back, narrowed his eyes at the little boy. “Listen, Hoss, we gotta get something straight. You don’t toss your lunch on me and I won’t toss my lunch on you. Feel me?” he asked.

  Jaxson blinked back at him, little baby gibberish coming from him.

  “See, he said he ain’t gonna do nothing of the sort. We’re bros, sassy girl. You know the saying bros before hoes?” he asked, waiting to see what the mama bear in her would do or say as his words registered.

  “Oh, my gawd. You are so bad. Gimme back my baby before you corrupt him.” She laughed, pushing past Keys. What she didn’t do was actually grab for the child.

  “Listen, hoss baby, I’m gonna tell you some truths. Women are amazing. You treat them like they’re precious, especially your mama. However, you also gotta remember they’re batshit crazy and know they’re ruthless. Feel me?” He shifted the baby into one arm then did a little fist bump, making an explosion sound after they bumped knuckles.

  “Don’t listen to him, Jaxson. He’s out on a weekend pass. I’m pretty sure he has a fancy jacket that they tell him is special so he can feel hugged all the time, but in reality, it’s a— “she leaned closer to her son— “a straitjacket. You know, what they give out in the looney bins.” She hurried down the aisle as Keys growled.

  “Well, I do say, you sure are looking joyful, Mrs. Kincaid. I’d ask how you’re holding up after the untimely death of your late husband, but I can see you’re doing just fine. Why, it hasn’t even been long enough that women in my day would be out of their mourning clothes.”

  Keys wasn’t two feet from where Palmer had stopped dead in her tracks. A short, heavyset woman in her late sixties or seventies stood staring down at her, clear disapproval radiating from the woman.

  “Hello, Mrs. Smith. Thank you for the card you sent. It was a shame you couldn’t make it to the service. We had everyone who was anyone there.” Palmer pushed the stroller past the woman without another word.

  He looked down at the old bitch he remembered from when he was a kid. She and her husband ran the only pharmacy in town. It had been her who’d followed him anytime he’d entered their store, making sure he wasn’t going to steal anything from them. Of course, he hadn’t had much money, so he understood her reasoning, but he also had never stolen a thing in all of his eighteen years, not even when he’d been half starved.

  “Why I do declare, that dress looks a bit wrinkled. Did you not have time to iron it before you left your home today, Mrs. Smith? It’s very unseemly to be walking out in public for all to see you looking so...unkept.” He repeated the words she’d said to him every single time she’d seen him. Only he couldn’t help the state of his clothing. They were as clean as he could get them from washing in the stream off of the muddy river. When he went to their store, he always had money for what he needed, which he bought and left without sticking around for longer than needed.

  “Why I never. Who do you think you are to speak to me that way?” She looked Keys up and down, her nose scrunching up as if she smelled something offensive.

  Keys chuckled. “See these boots? They cost over three hundred dollars. This jacket?” he lifted one shoulder before she could interrupt him. “One hundred percent the finest leather and custom made for me. I won’t even tell you what it cost, but I can tell you it cost more than your entire wardrobe and probably more than your jewelry as well. And no, I didn’t steal or kill anyone to get it. You have a good day now, Mrs. Smith.”

  He left the old bitch with her mouth gaping in the aisle of baby food to follow Palmer down another. Did he feel a little better after his little tirade? Absofuckinglutely. Was it childish? Absofuckinglutely, but he didn’t give two shits about anyone in this blink and you miss it town. Well, anyone but Palmer and the little tank of a boy in his arms.

  “I’ve always wanted to put her in her place. Did it feel as good saying it as it did watching you do it?” Palmer asked, her eyes dancing with mirth.

  “Ah, sassy girl, it was so much better. Hoss here agrees.” He shifted the now sleeping boy onto his shoul
der. “What else are we getting in here?”

  Palmer snagged a bag of her favorite chips and a jar of salsa.

  “Grab me one of each of those too please.” Keys didn’t really want the chips and salsa, but when she stretched onto her tiptoes, her little dress rose, giving him a flash of thighs. He was probably a pervert for enjoying, but again, he didn’t give a shit. Having a baby hadn’t hurt Palmer’s figure, only enhanced it. She’d had a cute little figure at fifteen, just on the cusp of being a woman but now she’d filled out into exactly what he’d known she’d be. Her cute little heart shaped ass was a little rounder, perfect for his hands to hold while he fucked her. Her tits had been on the small side before, but then again, she’d been too damn young and he shouldn’t have been looking. At thirty there was no sign of the teen girl anymore. Her breasts looked like they would fill his palms and then some. Tits and ass were his favorite parts on a woman, next to pussy. You couldn’t beat a tight, sweet tasting pussy that stretched beautifully around a cock. His cock.

  “Now who’s the one staring?” She shook the bag of chips in his face, making the baby whimper.

  “Ssh, you’ll wake my best friend,” Keys admonished with a grin.

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible, Keys. Come on, let’s pay for these and get out of here. I feel like everyone is watching us.”

  “Shit, now I have that song in my head.” Keys broke out singing a horrible rendition of Rockwell’s Somebody’s Watching Me.

  “You’re far from average, Keys.” Palmer looked over her shoulder.

  He wasn’t sure what the hell she was talking about. His eyes were glued to that shapely ass he wanted to feel in his palms, he wanted to spank the round globes and see just how pretty they looked with his handprint on them. Shit, he had so many fantasies that surrounded Palmer that had only intensified in the intervening years. Seeing the grown-up version of the young girl he’d jerked off to had him imagining doing such dirty, nasty, possibly illegal things to her his dick was threatening to burst the zipper of his jeans.