by Forgy, M. N.
“I like it,” I whisper. I’ve never heard that name before. I grab his hand, and interlock my fingers with his, taking the risk he might pull away and ruin this whole night. He holds my hand, and I bite back the smile. His hand is bigger than mine, but it fits perfectly at the same time. It’s hard to explain.
Chapter 17
Mac
Laying on my side, I watch Simone sleep. Her olive colored face looks soft, her black lashes nearly reaching her cheeks. She’s fucking beautiful. Lopez and Rooster have me irritated as fuck and I can’t think about anything else. Slowly lifting off the bed, I decide to do something about it.
I grab my shit off the floor and walk into the main living area to get dressed. I can smell cocoa butter on my skin from Simone, and her eyes rolling in the back of her head while I was buried in her to the hilt flash in my mind. She was so soft to touch, smelled so good, and felt fucking amazing.
I’ve never had sex like that before. I was so close to her, needing to touch every inch of her. I don’t know what made it different, but it was.
I try Rooster’s number one more time, and he finally answers.
“’Sup, man?”
“Where the fuck are you?”
“At the club, why?”
I hang up, and text Zeek to send a different prospect up here to watch the door.
I pace, fucking angry as I wait for someone to show up. I’m going to kill Rooster. Fucking strangle him and slam his face into my searing hot exhaust pipe. Lopez coming in here is a fucking risk, one that is not good for anyone involved.
A knock sounds at the door and my head snaps up.
Pulling the door open, it’s Felix, not a prospect. I step out and close it gently behind me.
Felix pulls his long hair into a bun as he eyes me with concern. Felix is the vice president of the club but is probably more level-headed than our own club president, if you ask me. I trust him though.
“I need to go handle some shit, can you keep an eye on things for a couple of hours?”
Felix’s eyes pierce right through me with questions.
“Since when does Mac have shit to go take care of?” he mocks. “Best Buy have a sale on computers?” He chuckles, taking a sip of his beer.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t buy computers, I build them, dumb fuck.” His face goes blank. “I’ll be back.”
Heading down to the club, I try and tell myself to act cool, handle it like an adult, but the matter of the fact is he moved from his post without telling anyone, and a fucking cop went inside the suite.
Finally reaching the doors to the back of the casino, I push them open. The warm dry air making the back of my neck sweat as my feet stomp into the pavement. I can still smell Simone on me, I think I’ll fuck her every day so I can smell like her.
“Hey, Mac baby!” One of the girls coo at me. I can’t remember her name, just the blonde crazy hair that reminds me of an eighties porn star. She’s a regular fuck, but I’m not interested in the least bit. I hold my hand up, conveying my intentions. Fuck off.
It doesn’t go unnoticed that for the first time I’m not wanting to get my dick wet by a club hangaround. Simone is definitely changing the way I see and feel.
The doors to the club are propped open, probably for a breeze as it gets stuffy with so many bodies inside.
Stepping inside, the music of Zombie playing “Bad Wolves” vibrates through the speakers. A thick cloud of smoke hangs close to the ceiling, and a wave of bodies makes it hard to see anyone in particular.
I spot Rooster, his reddish hair pulled into a short ponytail, the bottom half of his head shaved. His face is sharp to the chin, and his lip is pierced with a multicolored hoop.
I crack my knuckles, any idea of being calm out the fucking door now that I see him.
“Whoa, brother.” Machete steps in front of me, his hand on my chest. His red hair is swiped back with sweat, and he’s shirtless under his cut, showing off his detailed tattoos.
Noticing my aggression, he pats me on the shoulder, urging me toward the door. “You look like you need some fresh air.” I shove him out of the way, not in the mood for one of his confusing lectures.
Pushing bodies out of the way, elbowing those that don’t get the fucking clue I’m coming through, I slam both of my hands into Roosters back, making him stumble into a few girls.
“What the—” He turns around with a confused look, one I want to punch off.
“Where the fuck were you!?” I point at him, and his face falls. His hand holding a beer halfway to his mouth freezing.
He opens his mouth to explain and I have no time to hear his lame ass excuses. Closing the small gap between us, I grab him by the lip ring and tear it out, the sound of skin ripping, him screaming, causing a lot of eyes to focus on us.
“Man, what the fuck?” he grunts, holding his hands under his bleeding mouth.
“You fucked up!” I seethe and slam my knuckles into his fat fucking mouth. He drops to the floor, and I’m on him in seconds, jabbing fist after fist into his ribs. Him leaving his post scared Simone into having Braxton Hicks. She was in pain and I wasn’t there. I want Rooster to feel the pain she felt. Before I know what’s happening, Machete and Zeek are on me, pulling me off the bloody fucker. I don’t back down, I try and shove past them to get to Rooster.
“Rein it in, brother!” Machete barks, tugging me backward.
Both Rooster and I are dragged out of the clubhouse away from the party, and nearly thrown on our asses from Machete and Zeek.
“What the hell is going on here?” Zeek demands, his arms crossed over his chest. His hair is pulled up in a small ponytail, beads of sweat dripping into his dark questioning eyes.
Wiping the blood from my hand on my jeans, I stand. Adrenaline racing through me so hard, my knees wobble.
“Rooster left his post today and let Lieutenant Lopez inside the suite where she threatened Simone and the fucking club,” I inform.
Both Machete and Zeek’s head snap in Rooster’s direction.
“Look, man, she said she was with us, and that she had it from there! I tried to refuse, and she put a gun to my head and told me to go or else!”
“’Or else,’ always chose or ‘else’ when it puts your duty as a brother on the line.” I point at him, my face red with rage. I want to kill him, fuck I want to so badly my hands are shaking.
Zeek looks at me with an unreadable look, probably because he’s never seen me act like this before. I’m past losing my temper, I’ve gone off my fucking rocker.
“Give me your cut.” Zeek waves his hand at Rooster. That has me calm down for a second.
“What? Come on, man.” Rooster’s voice edges on the line of a child begging.
“You want to puss out when a gun is pointed at your head, I don’t want you behind my back when shit goes down. You didn’t mention anything to anyone about a cop showing up, and come to my club and drink my beer without a second thought. You’re out!” Zeek waves his hand again, conveying he wants the cut.
“You heard him, give him your fucking cut!” Grabbing him, I jerk him out of the cut. Fucking pussy doesn’t deserve to ever wear our colors.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Machete growls. Rooster lifts his chin with what pride he has left and saunters away from the club for good.
When he’s out of earshot, Zeek looks at me with narrowed eyes.
“I knew this cop bitch was going to be a problem. What do you plan to do about it?”
Shaking my head, I rub my chin. She threatened Simone and my club. Nobody gets away with that. My hand trembles as a complete thought out plan falls perfectly into place. My eyes light up, and I stare at Machete.
“I’m going to take care of it. Can I borrow Raven?”
Raven is Machete’s ol’ lady, and is crazy as fuck. Death doesn’t scare her, she harbors the grim reaper in her damn soul. The more fucked up the situation, the better for her. It’s like therapy for the psychotic.
“For what?” Mac
hete questions, and Zeek rubs the black stubble on his cheeks.
“I won’t hit a woman, let alone kill—”
“So, you want to borrow Raven so you can sleep better at night?” Machete sneers. I curl my fists, my nails digging into the palm of my hand. I don’t want to punch Machete in the face, he’s three times bigger than me, but he’s really starting to piss me the fuck off.
I’ve seen my old man beat on enough women growing up, I don’t have it in me to do it. I couldn’t look myself in the mirror the next day without seeing my dad. But if it means keeping Simone and this baby safe… I’ll take down every goddamn mirror in the casino and lick my wounds with a mouth full of Jack.
“Fuck it, I’ll do it myself.” I push past Machete, and Zeek grabs me by the arm. Stopping me.
“I respect you not wanting to hit a woman,” Zeek adds with a sincere look. “You should take Raven. She’s wearing our club colors after all, she can have our back when we call upon her,” Zeek states, giving Machete a look.
“Fine, not like she’d let me live it down if she heard I took an opportunity for her to fuck some shit up,” Machete scoffs.
“Thanks.”
Machete looks at me with hard eyes, and I return the fucking look. He knows Raven is perfect for the job.
“If anything happens to her…” He points at me.
“I wouldn’t let anything happen to Raven.” My tone grim. Raven is crazy, if anything, I should be making him promise me that she won’t let anything happen to me.
Zeek points at me, and I scowl. “I just want to point out this is the second time you’ve come in here knocking heads over this chick, Mac.”
I look to the ground, flicking my chin with my thumb. I don’t want to go into details with him, because I don’t exactly know what it all means either.
“What is it?” Zeek presses.
Shaking my head, I wet my lips looking off.
“There’s something there, I just- I’m just not sure if the club life is for her and the baby,” I sigh.
“I get it,” he nods.
Being an ol’ lady in this club is more than making sure there’s enough beer stocked at the bar, and riding on the back of a bike. You’re down to ride and die with your man. Serving his club before anything else.
Chapter 18
Mac
Raven steps outside of the club and looks my way. Fuck she’s scary.
Her dark hair is pulled back tight, making her ominous eyes look demon-ish, and the way she wears a black fitted shirt and black cargo pants loaded with weapons, she looks like she’s ready for the army. The army of the Devil that is.
I head toward my bike but think better of it. We’ll be taking a body with us tonight, can’t take my bike for that job.
“You got a car?” I ask Raven.
She points to a black Mercedes in the corner of the parking lot, her silence strong. I feel confident I picked her for this job. She’s going to wreck this bitch.
“I’m driving,” I tell, not ask.
Opening the driver door, I slide in and she hands me the key fob to start it. The same song that was in the club plays through the speakers. “Bad Wolves.”
Tires screech when we peel out of the parking lot heading toward our target. I know where she lives, so I can take the freeway, then the back way where nobody can see us.
Side-eyeing Raven as I drive down the freeway, she pulls her pistol out, checking it for bullets. Satisfied with that, she pulls her knife from the holder on her leg and eyes the blade.
My brows furrow with how equipped she is. She’s ready for anything, and excited.
“So when we get there, just follow my lead,” I explain to her. Her lips purse, and that unnerves me. I swear to God if she goes in there thinking she’s running his show, I will pull her by her hair and lock her in her own fucking trunk.
Staying back a block, I pull close to Lopez’s house. One-story white house, with a palm tree planted in the front yard. Her car parked in the driveway.
“Ready?” I ask Raven. She smiles and opens her door to get out.
Following her, we head to the white house with red shingles. The shrubs outside dying, and walkway cracked from the heat. She’s not much for lawn keeping, is she.
Stepping onto the patio, Raven tucks her back up against the house so she’s not seen by Lopez, and I knock on the front door.
Seconds pass before Lieutenant Lopez opens the door. The smell of lemon and tea wafting around me. She’s wearing a baby blue slip, her nipples hard and poking through the sheer material. Her hair is down, and she’s makeup-free. Looks as if our little backstabber was readying herself for bed.
“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” her tone dry, and face smug. I shove my foot inside the door jamb and jerk the door open.
“I’ve been ignoring you because you’re fucking nuts!” I point to my head to indicate how screwed up she is thinking we were anything than fuck buddies.
“Mac, what is wrong with you?” She stumbles back, and I invite myself in. Stepping inside, Raven marches in right behind me like a shadow. Her face stoic, and eyes drawn on the target.
“Who are you?” Lopez’s voice wavers. Raven ignores her, and gently shuts and locks the door behind us.
“You’ve been a bad girl, Lieutenant Lopez.” I act aloof, running my finger along the table next to her front door. A candle, a bowl for keys, and loose change scattered about. Her house really is nice. Black plush sofa, nice entertainment center that hugs an entire wall. The interior not matching her unkempt yard.
She has the taste more than a lieutenant of a police department can afford that is for sure. She’s a dirty, dirty girl.
“Get out or I’m calling the—”
“Cops?” I finish for her and laugh. Her face falls, her hands searching behind her for something to protect herself as she stumbles backward. If she was going to call the cops, she should have before we came inside.
“You ain’t calling anyone.” Lowering my head, I let my eyes convey just how fucked she really is. She swallows, her throat bobbing as tears fill her eyes.
Sauntering toward her, she backs herself into a corner like an idiot. Everyone knows not to corner themselves. Her hands flat on the wall behind her, she lifts her chin; feigning confidence.
“What’s the matter, babe. You’re not so tough now, are you?” I run the pad of my finger up her delicate throat. “You can only scare defenseless pregnant women, huh?”
Her eyes widen as if she now understands what my visit is all about.
“Is this- is this about Simone?” Her voice colored with surprise.
My eyes widen at the mention of Simone’s name. Did Simone tell her, her name?
“How do you know her name?” Her tense body relaxes, a cocky grin spreading across her face.
“I know everything about Simone Ray.” Her tone of voice drives the final nail in her coffin. I turn away from her, feeling my hands shake with the longing to dismantle her pretty little face.
“Don’t- do not say her name.” I wave my hand at her mindlessly as I step into the kitchen. I jerk the fridge open. “You don’t deserve to say her name,” I mutter, trying to distract myself with the contents of her fridge.
“She wasn’t that hard to figure out actually.” Lopez laughs under her breath, and this grabs my attention.
“What exactly do you think you know about Simone?” I chuckle, pulling out shit to make a sandwich. Every time my adrenaline pumps like it is, I get hungry. It’s fucking crazy.
“I know why you’re hiding her… fucking her, and she’ll be gone very soon.” Her threat seals her fate. I see black and rage.
Dropping everything, I round the counter and grab Lopez by the throat, shoving her against the wall.
“You fuck with my club, you fuck with my girl, and now you can fuck with the reaper,” I snarl.
Jerking her against the wall, I give Raven a look letting her know she can take over.
“If I go missing—”
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“Nobody will care. You’ll be replaced at the department, and someone else will move into this house playing out their life. Maybe they will be smart enough not to cross an Outlaw,” my voice dips with hostility.
“Mac, please. I just… I want us—”
I smash my lips against Lopez shutting her the fuck up and kissing her to her grave.
“There never was an us. Just a mediocre fuck, and you doing my dirty work,” I whisper against her lips. Her eyes widen at my harshness, but it’s the truth. What did she expect? For her to be my girlfriend or some shit. We’d never work. Turning away from her, I flick the dial on the stereo, the classical music she had on turning to Seether’s “Let You Down.”
