Free Damaged and the Cobra by Bijou Hunter Page A

get dressed, ride to her
house, and force her to choose me that very moment. Lark was fragile in a lot
of ways, but I sensed those weaknesses were out of habit and a defense mechanism
like her smiling. Under her quiet demeanor, she was a fighter and I knew she
was ready to throw a punch.
    “Do you think Coop would fucking wait for his
girl?” I asked Pollack who was panting on my bare leg. She responded by licking
me then turning around and sitting on my foot. Professor looked as impressed by
my question. “The answer, guys, is no. He would stalk anyone and everyone to
get what he wanted. Coop wouldn’t care who he messed with or how much he scared
his girl. He would just take what was his and screw the consequences.”
    I wasn’t Coop though. Normally, I thought my self
control was a good thing. A sign of my superiority to the guy who fucked up
regularly then apologized like his crazy was just a side effect of perfection.
Standing in the hot studio and staring into the painted eyes of the girl I
needed, I realized there were benefits to being Cooper.
    “I’m giving her a week,” I said, tossing my empty
beer bottle and heading for the door. “A week to take her punch at that shit
family of hers. If she can’t do it, I’ll throw it for her.”

Chapter Seventeen - Lark
    Bailey’s tough girl expression was really a variation
of the duckface. She pursed her lips and strutted around the room like
something was stinky. On anyone else, her expression would cause people to
point and laugh. Yet, on Bailey Fucking Johansson, no one was laughing.
    As we waited for Larry to arrive, my mom kept
offering Bailey crackers.
    “They’re really good crackers,” Margo said. “Larry
gets them from a friend at the cracker company.”
    “I don’t want your damn crackers, woman!” Bailey
finally cried. “Stop asking.”
    Laughing behind my hand, I watched Mom stare at the
crackers as if shocked anyone wouldn’t want them. Bailey noticed me giggling
and rolled her eyes.
    “When’s this old guy coming home?”
    “Larry isn’t old,” Margo said quickly. “He’s only
fifty.”
    “I’m nineteen, so yeah, he’s old.” Bailey stretched
in the air. “Can’t you just say Lark has permission to stay at my place this
weekend? And why does she need permission anyway? Are you running a gulag
here?”
    “What’s a gulag?” Margo asked.
    Bailey shrugged. “Say yes, so I can leave. I have
homework to do. I care about my grades lately. It’s my new thing.”
    “It’s Larry’s decision,” Margo mumbled, glancing
towards the garage where the door opened. “He’s the man of the house.”
    “Barf. No man tells me what to do. Well, except my
pop and occasionally my stupid brothers. I once let a cop tell me what to do,
but I was sleepy and didn’t need the hassle of putting him in his place. You
should try growing some balls, lady, and make your man behave. Just saying.”
    While I laughed, Margo only frowned. Entering the
room, Larry looked at the three of us then focused his fake happy gaze on
Bailey.
    “Who is this?”
    “Bailey Fucking Johansson. Don’t pretend you don’t
know me. I have no time for lies, Larry. I’m a busy woman. You know, with me
caring about my grades and everything.”
    Clearly confused, Larry frowned so I stepped up. “I
want to spend the weekend at Bailey’s house. She lives with her parents.”
    “Because I want to, not because I have to,” Bailey
interrupted. “I’m mature enough to be on my own. Just saying.”
    “I don’t know if this would be such a good idea,”
Larry said, resting his briefcase in Margo’s obedient arms. “You’ve been
running wild lately.”
    “Are you telling me no!” Bailey hollered then stood
on the coffee table. “Do I need to make a scene here, old man? Should I call my
pop and have him explain shit to you?”
    “Look…”
    “No! No! No!” Bailey chanted and kept chanting.
    As Margo covered her ears, Larry’s stupid poodle
yelped and spun around