The Devil's Daughter (Devil's Right Hand MC #4)

Chapter 14

A/N: Did anybody ask for a double update????? I woke up to a FOOT of snow (I'm from the south so I am NOT used to this) so what is there for a gal to do besides write? Buckle up babies, I've been WAITING to get to this chapter since I started this book!

Skillet's POV

Throughout my life, I've done some really weird shit. There was one time in high school when a kid bet a pack of smokes that I wouldn't run naked through a cornfield covered in pancake syrup. Let's just say that night I smoked a lot of cigarettes and I took a lot of showers. Weird seems to be the one constant theme in my chaotic life, especially since I became a club member and a bounty hunter.

I've done a ton of weird shit in my life but I think this takes the fucking cake.

"Can I help you find something, sir?" A lady with short black hair asks as she notices me blankly staring at the wall of shampoos.

Who the hell knew there were this many different types of shampoos? Hell, I use a three-in-one body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. Why do women have to go and complicate it?

"Yeah, actually," I admit as I realize I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing. "I'm looking for Sauve shampoo, it's the lavender scent. She said it's in a purple bottle." God, I hope that enough details to find a needle in a literal haystack.

"Come with me," she says as she walks down to the end of the aisle. After walking for what feels like miles, she bends down and picks up a bottle on the very bottom shelf. "Here ya, go. You're in luck, we just started carrying this brand a few months ago. Used to you could only get it at grocery stores."

GROCERY STORE?!

I could've gotten this at a fucking grocery store? God, what I would give to have known that before I waltz into whatever the fuck this store is. I was up all last night trying to think of a way to fix the hoodie diasters of 2022 and when I decided on this plan I googled places to get shampoo. The number one recommended store is this place called Ulta, and believe me, I've stuck out like a sour thumb since the second I got here.

"It's cute, ya know," the lady says as she hands me the bottle.

"Hmm?" I ask. The last thing I want to do is stand here and start a conversation. I want to get out of here and get started on my plan as quickly as possible.

"Most men wouldn't step foot in here, especially alone. She's a lucky girl." With a wink, the woman disappears down another endless aisle to help another customer.

I ignore her comment as I quickly pay for the shampoo and get the hell out of that store. I've been up since 7 this morning running the hoodies through multiple spin cycles on the washing machine in the back room to try and get the smell of detergent out of them. But, I was the first one at the store when it opened at ten. This was my last stop after I went to a year-round holiday store in the mall to get cinnamon pinecones and a gift bag.

Shoving the shopping bag into the saddle bag on my bike, I try to ignore the little voice in my head asking why the hell I'm doing this. The answer is simple, after all, it's the right thing to do. After last night- after I saw her have a fucking mental breakdown over those hoodies- I knew I had to do something. And since I can't buy a time machine, this is the next best thing.

Thankfully, Saturday mornings in our clubhouse are pretty quiet. All of the married guys are home and the single guys are still sleeping it off from Friday night. So, I can easily slip into the clubhouse and back to the washing machine. The last spin cycle should be finished by now so I can move on to step two.

"I'm surprised I wasn't hit by a flying pig on the way in," a voice says from behind me as I open the lid of the washing machine. Though the voice startles me, I don't jump. I know exactly who it is.