Betting on Stocks

by Harley Stone

  “This is so fun,” Naomi said, smoothing back her long blonde hair from her face so she could drink without its interference. “Why don’t we do it more often?”

  Monica’s forehead scrunched up. “I actually have no idea.”

  They both laughed.

  I flagged down the bartender, a temp by the name of Mike Frailey who covered for Flint during all our club get-togethers and church sessions.

  “Hey Stocks, what I can I do you for?” Mike asked.

  I liked Mike. He was a good guy who always came through when Flint needed him.

  “Can we get these two another round?” I asked.

  Mike smiled knowingly. “Sure thing.”

  As Mike was refilling their waters, the girls were called back to the stage to belt out Aerosmith’s “Crazy.” The intro music started and both girls swayed to the music. Kind of.

  “It’s probably time we cut them off,” Eagle observed.

  I’d had a difficult enough time introducing water into Monica’s liquid diet. “Sure. You tell ’em.”

  “Do I look like I’m fuckin’ crazy?”

  While I was trying to think up a witty response, four bikers joined us at the bar. I gave them a brief once-over, but in the dim lighting, they didn’t look familiar. Side rockers announced them as nomads, and a 1%er patch made it clear they didn’t give a shit about laws. From where I was seated, I couldn’t get a look at their backs to see which club they represented.

  Although the Copper Penny was owned by the Dead Presidents, it was open to the public. We often saw—and welcomed—bikers from other clubs. We even had several regulars who weren’t associated with any club at all, just guys who liked to ride and shoot the shit at our outdated watering hole. Since I sometimes filled in as a bouncer, I knew most of the regulars, but I’d bet money I’d never seen any of these guys, so I got a better look, checking out their name patches.

  The blond had a thick scar over his left eye, and the name on his patch was Steel. Skoal was balding with a thick, dark beard and a lower lip puffed out from chewing tobacco. The tallest of the group—Hyena—had a big dark mole on his cheek. The fourth had a snake tattoo wrapped around his left forearm and was predictably named Snake. Sometimes clubs came up with unique names, but most of them were so damn generic and predictable they seemed almost cliche.

  The four ordered drinks before turning their attention to the stage to watch the girls who were swaying and singing, living their best intoxicated lives.

  “What do you boys think of the entertainment?” Steel asked, making the girls sound like strippers he’d provided rather than the random karaoke singers they were.

  “They’re wearing too many clothes,” Skoal said. “We should have hit up that titty bar down the street.”

  “Those bouncers are rude as shit,” Steel replied. “I told you we’re not goin’ back there.” Turning back to the stage, he sucked in his bottom lip and curled his top in appreciation. I don’t know what the fuck he was doing, but he looked like a lecherous piece of shit.

  I nudged Eagle.

  He nodded. “I see them.”

  Hyena leaned forward. “The blonde’s not bad.”

  “I’d fuck ’em both,” Snake said.

  Hyena laughed, and the annoying sound of it clued me in on how he came by his road name. “Shit. You’d fuck your own sister.”

  “Step-sister,” Snake clarified. “And that bitch is hot. Even Steel said she was.”

  “I said she had a nice ass, but that nose… she needs to get that shit taken care of. I’d have to fuck her from behind, so I didn’t have to look at her. Both of these bitches look better than your sister. Any of you ever fuck a black bitch before?”

  Everything about them was disrespectful, but that set me over the edge. I had to say something. “Do you mind?” I asked.

  “Mind what?” Steel fired back. “Me and my brothers are having a conversation that you’re not part of. Seems to me like you need to mind your own damn business.”

  Mike set their beers down a little too hard, getting their attention. “Can I get you anything else?”

  Steel held my glare, but Skoal piped up. “We’re good for now.”

  Mike gave them one last look before answering the call of another patron.

  Eagle grabbed my arm. “Easy. You just got off probation.”

  He was right. These bastards weren’t worth lengthening my record. It was already proving hard enough to find a job and if I had any chance of a future with Monica, I at least needed a steady paycheck. I broke eye contact with Steel and took a sip from Monica’s water.

  “I’d fuck a black bitch,” Snake said. “I haven’t, but I would.”

  “Would you fuck that one?” Hyena asked. “She don’t got no arm. I don’t know if I could fuck a one-armed bitch, no matter what the rest of her looked like.”

  My blood was boiling. I was trying to ignore them, but the bastards were loud as hell. I should turn my back to them, but instinct wouldn’t let me. Keeping them in my peripheral, I tried to focus on the girls. The song seemed like it was going on forever.

  “We should get the ladies out of here as soon as they’re done,” I said to Eagle.

  Nodding, he called Mike over so we could settle up.

  Skoal wiped chew from his mouth with the back of his hand. “What about one of those famous bitches? What about someone like Scarlett Johansson? I’d still fuck her if she only had one arm.”

  “She probably wouldn’t be famous if she only had one arm,” Hyena pointed out. “You ever see an actress with one arm?”

  Snake elbowed Skoal. “Isn’t there some one-armed soccer player? I think I saw one on TV and she wasn’t bad lookin’. I’d fuck her.”

  “But what about this black bitch?” Steel gestured toward the stage. “She’s got a big mouth. Bet she could swallow all ten inches, and she don’t need hands to suck cock.”

  The other three laughed.

  My vision swam.

  Then everything went black.

  “Shit! Stop. Put that down. Goddammit, Stocks, don’t make me knock your ass out. Mike, help me restrain him.”

  When I came to, I was standing in the Copper Penny, holding a bar stool above my head. I had no idea how much time had passed, but the music had finally stopped. Eagle held one of my arms, and Mike held the other. They were all that was keeping me from bashing in the heads of the four bikers standing in front of me looking surprised as hell.

  I’d lost control again. I had no recollection of picking up the barstool, yet here I was. Only this time, instead of going after my computer, I was poised to take out some offensive sons of bitches.

  “You good now, Stocks?” Eagle asked

  “Yeah, but I’m still gonna kick their asses.”

  “I can respect that.” Eagle nodded to Mike. They both released me, and I set the stool down. Mike slipped back behind the bar as Spade and Buddha—who were on bouncer duty—reached us.

  “You wanna kick our asses?” Steel stood. “You came at us with a barstool like some kind of fuckin’ lunatic. We should kick your ass.”

  His three friends stood beside him.

  “We don’t let assholes disrespect our women,” I ground out. “Especially not those women.” I usually didn’t settle problems with my fists, but I had a feeling violence was the only language these shitheads would understand.

  “Fuckin’ A.” Eagle stayed by my side, making it clear he had my back.

  “Aww. I think we hurt their little pussy feelings,” Skoal replied.

  “I thought this was a biker bar. What kind of pussy-whipped little bitches are you?” Snake asked.

  Eagle laughed. “The kind that get laid. Every fuckin’ day. You gonna keep runnin’ your mouth, or you ready to settle this like men?”

  “Take it outside,” Spade said. To me he added, “You know Flint will lose his shit if you fight in here.”

  Yes he would, and I’d probably never get called in for temp work again. Still amped up o
n adrenaline, I didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”

  Steel eyed us, and then looked over the three guys behind him. “Just the two of you?” he asked, clearly stacking the odds against us.

  Most of the men in the bar would love to jump in, but that’s not how we did shit. Besides, Eagle was one tough motherfucker and I could sure as hell handle my own. With all the rage pumping through my veins, I needed to hit something soon, or I’d explode. If these idiots were willing to give me a workout, I was willing to risk taking a hit or two. “Yeah. We won’t need anybody else.”

  My confidence caused doubt to flicker in Steel’s eyes. I worried for a second that he’d back down, but his pride clearly outweighed his brains. He and his friends followed us out the back door and into the parking lot. Spade sent Buddha back to work before crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. A couple curious brothers trickled out of the club to watch as well.

  “Thought you said it’d be just you two,” Steel said, casting glances at our growing crowd.

  “None of us’ll interfere,” Rabbit called out from his position between two bikes. “But I’ve never seen Stocks fight, and nobody’s stupid enough to challenge Eagle. I wouldn’t miss this shit for the world.”

  More doubt flickered across Steel’s eyes.

  I glared at Rabbit, hoping to shut him up.

  “We gonna keep talkin’, or we gonna fight?” Eagle asked, looking like he was enjoying this shit way more than he should as he settled into position beside me. “Don’t think for a second I’ve forgotten what you said about my wife.”

  I’d only heard them talking shit about Monica. Confused, I shook my head. “They talked shit about Naomi?”

  “While you were… wherever the fuck you were, these bastards started talking about a different four on two scenario for this parking lot.”

  Snake laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll still have time to take care of your women after we handle you, right Steel?”

  Any rage that had trickled off me during our walk outside was back with a vengeance. These fuckers needed to be taught a lesson, and I was all too willing to teach. Apparently Eagle was, too. Our club’s secretary’s road name came from his position as a Marine scout sniper, but as he swooped down on Snake, I saw a different side of him. His fist connected to Snake’s face and he spun away before Snake could retaliate.

  Skoal, Hyena, and Steel abandoned their friend to gang up on me.

  Fucking chickenshits.

  Needing to even up the odds and buy myself a little time, I slowly eased back like I was afraid, giving them the confidence to advance. Hyena was the first one in range. I lunged forward, throwing my weight into a kick at his leg. He saw me at the last minute and tried to move, but he was too slow. My steel-toed boot connected with a crunch. He went down with a shout, grabbing his leg in agony.

  Pussy.

  Steel saw an opening, so he threw a jab my direction. I blocked him, throwing up an elbow as I spun around. Skoal came at me from the other direction. I ducked into his right hook, letting him graze my shoulder as my fist sunk into his soft stomach. He grunted and tried to fold in on himself, but my uppercut connected with his jaw. His head flung back, and he went down, landing on his ass.

  Snake could actually fight. He managed to land a jab on Eagle’s shoulder.

  Eagle laughed, sounding maniacal as fuck, and swooped in again, looking like he was having the time of his life. I didn’t envy Snake one bit, but I didn’t have time to watch more of their moves because Steel nailed me in the back with his foot.

  I was impressed. I’d half expected him to turn tail and run when he realized his friends were both out of commission. Grabbing at my back, I put on one hell of a show, acting like the fucker had near mortally wounded me. He bought my acting and closed in for the kill. I let him get close enough to land a jab. Turning into his punch, I flexed my stomach for impact and countered with a hook. The bastard hadn’t been expecting that. His eyes widened and he doubled over. I swept his legs out from under him, and he landed on his ass with one hell of a loud thud.

  Steel coughed, rolling to his side to spit on the pavement, and I got a good look at the colors on the back of his cut. Dirty Hellions MC. I’d never heard of them before, but the name was fitting.

  Eagle was standing between Skoal and Snake, bleeding from a small cut across his jaw. He swiped at it, still looking pissed. “The fucker came at me with a rock. Who does that?” He kicked Skoal for good measure. “Pussy.”

  “You done?” I asked Steel since he seemed to be the ringleader of this not-so-merry band of depraved degenerates.

  “Fuck you,” he spat.

  “Don’t show your face around here again,” Spade said, pushing off the wall from where he’d been monitoring the fight. “Disrespectful pussy-ass bitches aren’t welcome in the Copper Penny.”

  Monica

  AS NAOMI AND I finished up our song, I sought out Stocks, only to watch him stand and pick up his barstool. Confused, I grabbed Naomi’s arm. She followed my gaze, and we both stared as he raised the stool over his head. Face twisting in a scary-ass scowl, he turned toward the four bikers seated beside him, looking like he was about to fuck them up.

  What the…?

  Shouting something I couldn’t make out, Eagle latched onto Stocks’s arm, trying to wrestle the stool out of his grasp. As the two tussled, the bartender joined in, grabbing ahold of Stocks’s other arm.

  People crowded around them, blocking our view.

  Latching on to the nearest Dead President, Naomi asked, “Rabbit, what the hell’s going on?”

  “Those four pieces of shit were disrespecting you and your friend, and Stocks lost his mind. Looked like the lights were on and nobody was home, if you get my drift. He picked up his barstool and went after ’em like he was crazy. Thankfully Eagle stopped him before he could do any damage to the stool. Stocks is a good guy. Wouldn’t want Flint to kill him or eighty-six him from the bar.”

  Judging by Rabbit’s tone, he thought banning Stocks would be a far worse punishment than death. Thanks to the waters Stocks had been pouring down my throat, I was sobering up, but not so much that I didn’t find that funny.

  “What’s going on now?” Naomi asked, standing on her tiptoes and trying to see over the wall of people in front of us.

  “Shit talkin.’ Oh, looks like Eagle’s gettin’ into it, too. Spade is tellin’ em to take it outside.”

  “They’re gonna fight?” I asked, surprised. Outside of the battlefield, the boxing ring, and high school, I’d only seen a handful of fights. Most of them had consisted of a lot of posturing and talking until someone took a swing and both parties realized that shit hurt. Or people danced around and acted like they wanted to throw hands until the authorities were called to break it up.

  “They sure the fuck are! Shit, I should call Link. He’s gonna miss this.” Rabbit seemed far too excited about the prospect of witnessing an ass kicking. We followed him out the back door and into the parking lot where we heard some of what was said to set the guys off.

  “Guys are so weird,” Naomi said, studying the four troublemakers. “I mean, where do they get the confidence to walk in a club and see two beautiful and talented singers and just assume we’d be down for their little gang bang? They’re not even cute. I wish I had that kind of confidence.”

  My friend—who’d just called herself beautiful and talented—did not lack for confidence, but it seemed silly to point that out.

  Eagle landed the first punch, making me wince at the sound of contact. Being on the receiving end of that hit had to hurt.

  “Maybe they aren’t looking for the willing,” I suggested.

  Naomi gasped. “Those bastards. Kick their asses, Marine!” she shouted.

  Three guys were closing in on Stocks. I felt a moment of panic before watching him quickly disable one and then hold his own against the other two. He was fighting for my honor, and I expected to feel some sort of feminist indignation or something, but the opposi
te was true. Stocks was one step shy of pounding on his chest, and—to my surprise—his brutal display of masculinity was ridiculously sexy.

  As in super arousing.

  So hot I had to resist the urge to fan myself.

  Every punch and kick he threw made me wetter.

  Who knew fighting could be so stimulating? Forget oysters and alcohol; apparently all my libido required was a good old-fashioned beat down. Evolution had obviously passed me up.

  Just when I started thinking there must be something wrong with me, Naomi leaned over and whispered, “Hot, isn’t it?” Her glassy eyes trailed the movements of her husband.

  I was sure Eagle was holding his own, but I couldn’t pull my gaze away from Stocks long enough to check. The man knew how to fight way better than I’d expected him to. He was so unassuming, sweet, and chill, it was easy to forget he’d served as a Marine. Those guys clearly didn’t fuck around when it came to hand-to-hand.

  “Isn’t it?” Naomi asked, nudging me.

  She’d asked a question? “Um…”

  She laughed. “Yep. You’re into this shit, too. I don’t know why them pummeling the guys who talked shit about us is so sexy, but Eagle’s definitely getting laid tonight.”

  “How’s that different than any other night?”

  She shrugged, grinning. “What can I say? We keep each other satisfied.” I never would have imagined Naomi happily settling down to the mom and wife gig, but she glowed as she watched him.

  “I’m glad. He’s good for you, Nae. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy.”

  “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

  “No.” I gave her a little shove. “Not at all. You deserve this.”

  “So, what’s up with you and Stocks?”

  I shrugged. “We’re having fun.”

  “Like long-term fun or fuck-buddy no-strings-attached fun?”

  “We’re not defining the relationship.” Truthfully, we weren’t even talking about it. I enjoyed being around him, he seemed to feel the same way, and that was enough for me.