Code-Switching

by Zena Wynn

Seemed like today was the day for dredging up emotional shit. “You never talk about him,” I said.

  “Hurts too much. He died before we could tie the knot.” Ma twisted a ring on her finger that I never saw her without. “Devon gave me this ring. We began planning the wedding. A month later, he was dead. We should have done like you and Zach, but I wanted a fancy wedding.”

  Ma sighed heavily. “I haven’t always done right by you. After your father died, I drowned my sorrows in the bottle. Even your grandma taking you from me wasn’t enough to make me snap out of it. It wasn’t until... Well, you know. That’s when I knew I had to get my shit together. I’m sorry I was such a lousy mother.”

  “Not lousy, Ma.” Not the best, either, but I was learning that being the best and doing your best were two different things. Maybe it was time I cut her some slack. “You let me have Jamie.”

  For the first time I wondered how Ma had felt, seeing Jamie every day and knowing he only existed because of a mistake she’d made. She’d allowed the wrong man around her child. One thing I could say, she hadn’t protected his ass. Ma had beat the shit out of him, and then called the cops. She’d been with me every step of the way—through filing the report, getting the rape exam, meetings with the lawyers, and counseling sessions.

  “Tikki, get your ass out here,” Zach bellowed from the front.

  “Hold your horses,” I yelled back.

  I said the words I should have said a long time ago. “Thanks, Ma. I love you.”

  Ma blinked rapidly. “Damn it, Tikki. You’re going to make me ruin my mascara. You’d better get out there before Zach comes and gets you.”

  “Too late,” Zach said as he entered the office. He didn’t pause as he crossed to me, tossed me over his shoulder, turned and exited the room.

  “Zach!” I laughingly complained.

  He popped me on the ass. “I’m not waiting another second. It’s time to get hitched.”

  As we cleared the hallway and entered the main bar area, one of the old ladies shoved a bouquet of flowers into my hands. Zach set me down on the miniature stage they used for live performances. I felt hands in my hair and tried to turn.

  “Be still,” Ma commanded. “Every bride needs a veil.”

  They’d used white fabric to create an arch. More white fabric was spread out on the stage floor and red rose petals were scattered about. As a finishing touch, they’d lined the edge of the stage with vases of flowers. The result was simple but elegant.

  I had on jeans, a white dress shirt, and Zach’s colors. He’d had a ‘Property Of’ jacket made especially for me. Zach wore new jeans, a black dress shirt, his colors, and riding boots. One of his brothers was an ordained minister with the Universal Life Church and had gone through the process to officiate marriages in New York.

  In addition to family on both sides, our witnesses were a mix of Zach’s MC brothers, their old ladies, and kids. My street gang, the Outcasts, and their families were also in attendance. Out of respect for the Iron Riders, they’d left their colors at home. Some of my neighbors from my apartment complex and friends of my paternal grandmother I’d kept in touch with were also present. The small bar was crowded.

  The minister—I still hadn’t learned all of their names—cleared his throat and the room quieted. He skipped all of the “Dearly beloved” crap and got straight to the point. “Do you, Catherine Tequila Brown—”

  “Tequila? Your middle name is Tequila?” Zach asked as the crowd hooted.

  I shot him my middle finger.

  “I told you. Not until after the wedding, baby,” Zach said, which prompted more laughter.

  The minister held up his hand and the laughing stopped. “As I was saying, do you, Catherine Tequila Brown, agree to take Zach as your old man from now until forever? Do you agree to always respect him, take care of him, and wear his colors with pride? Do you agree to support him and never be an embarrassment to him? Do you agree to honor the brotherhood and not give him shit about it, even if he stops mid-stroke to come to another brother’s aid? Do you agree to open your home to a brother in need?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you, Zachary Gunner Anderson, promise to love Catherine as much as you love your leather? Do you promise to ride her as often as you ride your Harley? Do promise to protect her, provide for her, and make sure shit gets done around the house without complaining or being a pain in the ass about it? Do you promise to treat her with respect and never be a source of embarrassment to her? Do you promise to keep her as your one and only, unless you two come to a mutual agreement that states otherwise?” the minister asked.

  “That shit ain’t happening,” I said.

  Zach grinned. “I do.”

  “Hold each other tight. Be understanding of your partner’s needs. Keep each other in your highest regards. Maintain a sense of humor as you meet life’s challenges. Honor one another whether together or apart. Respect each other’s differences. Support each other’s goals in life. Enjoy the good times, and endure the storms. The road is wide open before you. Follow it to see where it leads. Make your dreams come true, together. Most of all, love and respect one another until one or both of you are called to the big highway in the sky. Take out the rings,” he said.

  Axel handed Zach both wedding rings.

  “Zach, place the ring on Catherine’s left hand and repeat after me: With this ring, I thee wed.”

  “With this ring, I thee wed,” Zach repeated as he slid the ring on my finger.

  Zach gave me the simple gold wedding band, and we repeated the procedure.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Zach, you may kiss your bride.”

  Zach swept me into his arms and bent me backwards in a dramatic kiss as the crowd hooted and hollered.

  “Open the bar. Bring out the food. Let’s get this party started,” Axel ordered.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tikki

  By my estimation, we’d been partying about two hours when Zach tapped me on the shoulder. I glanced up from my conversation with Luis. “Time to go.”

  “I’ll call you Monday. I think that’s a great idea,” I said to Luis as I stood.

  Zach took my hand and we started for the door.

  “Hey, everyone! The bride and groom are leaving,” someone shouted.

  Just that easily, we suddenly had an escort outside. There was no sneaking away from this crowd. Both men and women made crude and humorous sexual references to riding and bikes as we climbed onto Zach’s Harley. With a wave and a smile, we rode off.

  Forty-five minutes later, we entered a residential neighborhood in Queens and came to a stop in front of a freshly painted gray, two-story house with new siding and what looked like a new roof.

  “Open the gate for me,” Zach said.

  I got off the bike and opened the gate of the chain linked fence enclosing the yard for him to drive through. Once he was inside, I closed it and followed on foot. Zach parked the bike in the backyard under an oversized carport, dismounted, and took our belongings from the storage compartments.

  “What is this place?” I knew it wasn’t his home because he lived on Flatlands Avenue in Brooklyn. We were in Far Rockaway, not too far from the beach.

  “A house my brothers and I pooled together to purchase after Sandy. We bought several properties with the intention of flipping them, but decided to hold on to this one because of its size.” Zach motioned me to follow him up the stairs through the back entrance.

  I glanced around. The house sat on a corner lot. The entire backyard had been concreted, and little patches of grass poked through the pad seams. It was perfect for parking a passel of bikes. “How often do you come here? Is anyone going to show up while we’re here?”

  “Since it’s still being renovated, about once a month. And no, no one will disturb us. We have the place to ourselves,” he said.

  We entered into a mudroom and walked through the kitchen into the front part of the house. Everywhere I looked, I could see signs of
recent construction. The walls and flooring were new. Some rooms had been painted. Others hadn’t. The stairs and railing had been replaced but hadn’t yet been varnished.

  “There are five bedrooms and two and a half baths. We’re adding another bedroom and bathroom in the basement. Right now, the basement has a bar and a game room. There’s a wall-sized, flat-screen TV for watching the games and fights,” he said as he led me upstairs to one of the bedrooms.

  From what I could see of the open doors we passed, the bedrooms had all been remodeled. Each had new carpeting, freshly painted walls, and what looked like new furniture.

  “This is our room,” he said and motioned me inside.

  The bedroom contained a king-sized bed which took up most of the floor space, two nightstands, and a closet. The room was decorated in neutral colors and was so plain it was almost drab. It was okay for a short visit, but if we ever spent more than a couple of days here, it would need work to make it more inviting.

  Zach set our bags down and opened the closet door. He took off his jacket and hung it up. “Give me your jacket.”

  I handed him the leather. He hung it up beside his and turned with a predatory expression in his gaze. “Take your hair down.”

  My eyes held by his, I reached up and removed all of the pins holding the bun in place. I shook my head as the last pin came out and the curly mass fell to my waist.

  “I’ve been waiting months to do this.” Zach stepped close and slid his fingers through my hair before cupping the back of my head. “Beautiful.”

  Then he kissed me. I thought I’d tasted his hunger before. Thought I knew its flavor. I was wrong. Groaning, I curled my arms around his neck and held on as I felt my knees buckle.

  Zach gripped me under my ass, lifted me off my feet, and took the few steps that separated us from the bed. He placed one knee on the mattress and fell forward, trapping me beneath him. Stripping me, Zach took his time unveiling every inch of skin until I was completely bare. As each new section was revealed, he explored it with his mouth and hands.

  By the time he stopped to undress, I was purring like his Harley. When our bodies touched skin-to-skin, I moaned and brought his head down for another kiss. We broke for a breath and simply stared at each other. We both recognized the profoundness of this moment.

  Finally, Zach kneed my legs apart and settled between my thighs. He positioned his cock at my entrance and paused before entering me. “You okay? I don’t want to trigger any bad memories.”

  I kissed him for being so thoughtful. “I’m good. Counseling took care of most of that shit.”

  “You have a bad moment, you tell me. If you say stop, I stop. No questions asked. You feel me?” he asked, staring intently into my eyes.

  “Not yet, but I will if you quit running your mouth,” I said.

  He laughed. “Smart ass. Last question. You on something, or do I need to use a rubber?”

  “I have an IUD, and I’m clean. You couldn’t have picked a better time for this conversation?” I asked. He was right there. I could feel him and the anticipation was driving me crazy.

  “No. I was already having a hard time keeping my hands off you. Talking about fucking would have led to doing it. I’m clean, too. Brace yourself.” He surged inside, and I gasped as my hips arched up to meet his.

  He froze and I could tell by the way he clenched his jaw that he fought to maintain control. “Still good?”

  I lifted my legs and dug my heels into his butt. “Yes! Fuck me already.”

  Zach rode me to a back-scratching, hip-bucking, screaming orgasm. I lay in a stupor, struggling to catch my breath as he finished with a muffled roar. Sweat glued us together as he collapsed on top of me like a dead weight.

  I kissed his damp brow. “I need to take back part of my vows. Now that I know what I’m missing, if you stop mid-stroke to answer the damn phone, I’ll neuter you.”

  “Too late to object,” he said with a laugh.

  Zach flipped us so that I lay on top. “Hello, Mrs. Anderson.”

  I lifted my head to stare down at him. “What if I want to keep my name?”

  He gave me a lazy look. “Professionally, you can call yourself whatever you choose, but to the rest of the world you’ll be Mrs. Catherine Tequila Anderson. My old lady.”

  After spending a moment to consider, I agreed. “Fair enough. You know, there’s a lot of people who’d question our sanity for getting married when we both quit our jobs.”

  He shrugged. “We’ll have work soon enough. Any company would be fortunate to have us, so I doubt we’ll be on the market long. Besides, neither of us is hurting for money.”

  As I traced his hard muscles—Zach was seriously ripped—I thought back to the day we’d both quit our jobs. After applying for the marriage license, we’d purchased take-out and brought it back to my place. We’d eaten while having a serious discussion about Jamie, our plans for the future, and our personal finances.

  We’d decided since Zach owned a three bedroom/three bathroom detached single home, I’d move in with him. My apartment was a co-op, which I had no intentions of selling so we decided to rent it out. Zach knew someone who might be interested.

  The discussion about finances was particularly illuminating. The Iron Riders owned several business enterprises. Each month Zach got a cut of the proceeds. In addition, like me Zach was frugal with money and had a large savings and investment portfolio.

  After sharing news about the properties I owned and the businesses I’d invested in all thanks to an inheritance left to me by my father and grandmother, I suggested, “Maybe we should get a prenup.”

  Zach had scowled. “No prenup. You leave me, I’ll hunt your ass down, bring you back, and keep you tied to the bed until you change your mind. If there’s another man involved, you should be aware you just signed his death warrant.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “Yeah? You try to leave me and I’ll put a hit out on your ass. You’ll disappear and your brothers will never be able to prove I was responsible.”

  We stared at each other grimly.

  “Long as we understand each other,” Zach said.

  I nodded my agreement. “No prenup, and no divorce. It’s you and me to the grave and beyond.”

  Mind once more in the present, I sat up and straddled Zach’s lap. My core was positioned right over his sex, and I felt it when he hardened. “Out of curiosity, just how often do you ride your bike?”

  His grin was wicked. “Every day. Sometime multiple times a day, but that’s nothing compared to how often I plan to ride you.”

  Then he flipped me over onto my back and made good on his wedding vows.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Zach

  My brothers and I were hauling Catherine’s furniture out of her apartment when the call came.

  “Anderson,” I answered.

  “This is D. B. Graham, CEO of Berkley-Adams calling. Is now a good time for us to speak?”

  “Yes.” I motioned to the guys that I had to take this call and for them to continue without me.

  “I’d like to talk with you to discuss your resignation. Is Friday at nine a.m. good for you?” he asked.

  “What about Ms. Brown?”

  “She’s next on my list to call,” Graham said.

  “Call back after you’ve spoken with her.” I disconnected the call without giving him a chance to respond. No Catherine, no deal.

  We’d loaded a few more items into the truck when Graham called back. “I’ve spoken with Ms. Brown. We have a meeting scheduled for nine a.m. on Friday morning. Will you be joining us?”

  “Yes, I’ll be there,” I confirmed.

  “Good. I’ll see you then.” He hung up before I could reply. I grinned at the power play.

  I got a text from Catherine: B-A just called for a meet.

  I responded: Me too.

  Catherine: What time?

  Me: Friday at nine.

  Catherine: Same here.

  Me: We’re on our wa
y with the stuff. I hope you’re ready for us.

  We’d moved her clothes, shoes, toiletries and whatever else we could fit in the car yesterday. There were boxes and bags everywhere. She was at my place sorting it all out and determining where she wanted everything. Catherine was on a mission to get the house into some type of order before Jamie arrived for the weekend.

  I didn’t give a fuck what went where. She could flip the whole house upside down for all I cared. The most important thing in my home was her. As long as I had Catherine, nothing else mattered.

  

  Friday morning at eight forty-five, I stopped Catherine before she entered Graham’s office. She looked at me questioningly. “If we don’t like what they have to say, we walk.”

  She arched a brow. “You sure you want to do that?”

  “Yes. If they can’t appreciate our worth, fuck ‘em.” I waited for her agreement.

  Instead, Catherine frowned. “That’s easy for you to say. You may not need the money, but I need the medical benefits they provide for Jamie.”

  “Wrong pronoun. We need the medical benefits. We’re a family now. Don’t worry about it. We make a damn good team. If Berkley-Adams doesn’t want to play, we’ll find another company who will. Agreed?”

  Her expression turned dubious but she nodded her agreement.

  I opened the door and she stepped inside. As she strode to the desk, Catherine told Graham’s administrative assistant, “We have a meeting with Mr. Graham at nine.”

  “I’ll let him know you’re here.” The administrative assistant picked up her phone and pressed the intercom button. “Your nine o’clock is here.”

  “Send them in,” Graham said.

  We entered the office to find Graham and Kline waiting for us at a small conference table. They stood and shook our hands as they greeted us.

  Graham spoke as soon as we were seated. “Ms. Brown, on behalf of Berkley-Adams, I want to extend my deepest apologies to you for what you suffered at the hands of Manning. We reviewed the police report and saw the security footage. In this agency, we do not tolerate harassment of any kind. Our legal team has been in touch with the legal team at Scarsdale. It seems this isn’t the first incident involving Manning, but it is the first time they’ve had proof. His employment has been terminated, and a new account manager has been assigned. They’re eager to hear your sales pitch.”