Dirty Shame (Bluefield Bad Boys #1) by Tess Oliver Read Free Book Online Page B

in.” He gazed at me with that kind, fatherly expression that I used to love to see over the breakfast and dinner table when he was asking me how my day had gone. “It’s good to have you home, Rylan.”
    “It’s good to be home, Dad.” He walked out.
    The second he closed the door I phoned Becky.
    “Did you change your mind about tonight?”
    “I think so, Becky. Just like you so eloquently stated, the bandage needs to come off.”

Chapter 7
    Kellan
    Dawson slapped down his hand, a full house, queens full. “I don’t just have lady luck on my side tonight. She’s down on her knees given me a fucking blow job with her lucky damn lips.” He embraced the pile of chips in the center of the table and swept them toward him.
    “I think I’ll go drown myself in beer,” Tommy huffed as he pushed his folded hand toward Roland, the dealer for the night. The other two players were bikers from the next town, Browning. It was a town that was economically parallel to the south side of Bluefield only instead of mining it was logging. A motorcycle club sort of ran the town of Browning so a lot of the town’s revenue was made in less than reputable ways. A lot of the MC members took part in The Hole’s gambling scene and fight club.
    “Come on, Huck, you can’t quit now,” Dawson complained.
    “Tired of giving you my money, Dawz.”
    Tommy, or Huck as we called him, had been folding every hand. The nickname came from his real name, Thomas Sawyer, named after his dad and not the famous literary character. Two days after Tommy’s tenth birthday, his dad slipped on some ice. He slid headfirst onto a pile of wood and died of a broken neck. Thomas Sr., a good dad as far as dads went, had survived a major roof fall and a mine explosion, but the ice outside his back door proved lethal. By the time Tommy Jr. had reached his fourteenth birthday, he’d fallen in and out of trouble so much, he was far more of a Huck Finn than a Tom Sawyer. The nickname stuck.
    In a desperate attempt to tame her out of control son, Tommy’s mom married Sam, a man who was as mean as he was big. Her good intentions backfired. Sam became abusive, and one day, Tommy, trying to defend his mom, hit Sam so fucking hard in the face, Sam dropped into a coma for a week. Tommy spent some months in a foster home and came back with an even sharper edge than he’d left with. But the hard work and responsibility that came with adulthood had taken some of the anger and temper out of him. Sometimes it seemed that a lot of the Huck Finn spirit was gone too. A life filled with wrong turns and shitty luck did that to a guy.
    The crowd in the barroom sounded thick and drunk. Someone had cranked up the music, and the drumbeats pounding through the speakers were shaking the thin walls of the back room. The naked light bulbs strung up over the round table, the only light in the room, vibrated in rhythm with Aerosmith.
    Sasha sat on my thigh and wrapped her hand around my neck. Sasha lived with her ninety-year-old grandfather near the outskirts of town, just a few miles away from our cabin. She spent most of her nights hanging around The Hole. Occasionally, the owner, Scott, had work for her, but tonight she was watching the poker game, drinking wine and eating up our bowl of peanuts.
    She peered down at me through heavy mascara and made a point of pressing her tits against my cheek. “Just figured since Dawson has lady luck sipping at his cock, you might need me sitting on your lap.”
    “Long as you bring me a good hand, darlin’, you can sit here all fucking night.” I picked up the five cards Roland had dealt me. So far, adding Sasha to my lap hadn’t helped much. I was heading down the same path to loserdom as Tommy tonight.
    Dawson tossed three chips onto the pot. “Guess Andi really likes her new job at that city hospital.”
    Dawson had grown up with three sisters, including Andi, his twin. Andi had spent so much time fixing our cuts and bruises as teens