That’s when I stood up from the booth.
“Slam,” Knox growled.
“Order me a burger. I’ll be right back.”
“You can’t get into trouble…”
“I’m not getting into trouble,” I said. “I promise.”
“Your promises are worth dick.”
“Burger,” I said. “Load it up. And get me a fresh beer, I’m going to need it.”
I walked away, expecting Knox to chase me down.
But he didn’t.
That was a good thing.
Nothing was going to stop me.
Don’t get into fucking trouble?
Fuck that.
I was trouble… the worst kind…
eight
(belle)
*NOW*
My heart wouldn’t stop pounding.
He was here.
The guy. The so-called bad guy. The biker guy. I’d met him twice but never got his name. I’d never forget his size, his face, or the logo on his leather. And he was in the restaurant, his eyes all over me.
Better yet - he knew my name.
I was the daughter of a cop so my instincts kicked in and I wanted to know how he knew my name and why he was there.
I hurried to get that table of assholes more drinks.
When I got to the table I saw the biggest asshole - the one who smacked my ass - wasn’t there.
“Let me ask you something,” the other asshole said. “How fucking far away do you have to go to have a cigarette?”
“Excuse me?”
“My buddy went outside for a cigarette five minutes ago,” he said. “You have some made up law that you have to be a mile away?”
“No,” I said. “Just not inside.”
I walked away to the table where he had been sitting.
I noticed he was gone too.
Oh… shit…
The other guy looked at me. “Darlin’. We’re ready to order.”
“Where’s…”
“Slam,” he said. “I’m Knox. Your face tells me you have an idea of who we are. Keep it at that. So that’s going to be two burgers… with the works. How’s this place with burgers, darlin’?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “I mean, they’re great. Made fresh. Not frozen.”
“Good. Really good. Oh, and before I forget, let me get a chicken parm, to go, and make my burger to go. Slam is eating solo tonight. He’s got plans right here.”
My head kept spinning. My heart kept racing.
I needed to calm myself.
From the corner of my eye I saw him. Slam. What a name. I knew it couldn’t have been his real name, right? Nobody would name their kid that. Then again, this guy…
I had forced myself to forget his name the first time he told me it. This time, I would never forget it.
He was like a monster stomping along the floor. His shoulders were so big, so round. His eyes dead set on me. I took a step back and he stopped right at me, towering over me.
“Hey, babe,” he said.
His voice was rough but felt like butter through my body. Everything ran down and sent a trembling feeling right between my thighs. I was almost a puddle because of two words.
I stared up at him, turned and yet terrified.
“Uh, hey,” I managed to get out.
“I have everything ordered,” Knox said. “Got my food to go, and something for Ana.”
I saw Slam grin and then he eyed me again. “Fresh round here, babe?”
He moved his left hand and I saw his knuckles. They weren’t swollen, but definitely ripped up with cuts. He quickly grabbed a napkin and put his hands under the table.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
I turned and hustled away toward the bar area. But then I made a quick turn and rushed out the side exit. I looked left to right but I didn’t see a thing. I took a few more steps and that’s when I saw a foot. On the other side of the alley, next to a dumpster. As I slowly approached I feared the worst. Slam had killed that guy from the other table. But why? It couldn’t have been because the guy slapped my ass, right? Slam wasn’t at the restaurant to defend me. Those guys were serious trouble. The entire group of them - Reaper’s Bastards - were all but trouble.
I’m talking murderous trouble. They had members in prison for life. They had members dead. The ones alive were just waiting for their time to come. Either a bullet from an enemy or a set of handcuffs would set their future.
When I saw that it was the guy that smacked my ass, I let out a gasp.
But he wasn’t dead.
He was just beaten up.
He sat there, looking dazed. His nose and mouth were bloody. His shirt ripped halfway down his body. He reached for me with shaky hands.
My mind played out the scene. If I called the police - or my father - then what? Slam would be taken away in cuffs. That would get another one of these guys off the street.
“Who did this?” I asked the guy.
“Someone passing by,” he said and coughed. He turned and spit blood on the ground and groaned. “Guy in a black hoodie. Took my wallet and keys. Slammed me off the wall…”
Slam.
“A black hoodie? You’re sure?”
“I fucking saw what I saw!” the guy squealed at me.
Then he broke down in tears.
I ran back to the restaurant and went into the kitchen. I whispered to Hector that someone had gotten beaten up outside. He nodded and said he’d call for someone to help. I then left the kitchen and went to the table where the other asshole sat.
I told him that his friend had been mugged outside.
The guy exploded on me, asking me what kind of shit hole restaurant we were running. I tried to apologize but he spat fire at me, getting way too close for comfort. For a split second I caught myself wanting to say that his friend deserved it.
Then I heard a booming sound and me and the asshole looked back to see Slam rising up from the booth again.
“Is there a problem?” he asked the asshole.
“Who the…”
“Careful,” Slam said. He flexed his fists and sent a clear signal he wasn’t done fighting for the night.
Suddenly, the asshole shut up.
And he ran away.
I stared at Slam again, this time with a little distance between us.
“Do you have a black hoodie?” I asked him.
He slowly shook his head with a shit eating grin.
I shivered.
Still turned on… still terrified…
“How about those beers, babe?” Slam asked me.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’ll be right back. With beer this time.”
I forced myself right then to get back to normal. To finish out my night. The gossip in the kitchen was all about the police coming to get the guy that Slam beat up. I waited for the cops to come looking for Slam but they never did. The asshole stuck to his story that someone in a black hoodie jumped him and ran down the alley with his wallet, keys, and his cell phone.
Each time I went to the table, I felt Slam’s eyes devour me.
He didn’t say a word to me though, which made the tension ever greater.
It made no sense there was tension between us though.
He was a filthy criminal biker.
I was the daughter of a cop.
Even still… somewhere inside me… I wanted to know…
Did Slam beat that guy up to defend me?
I thought they were finally going to leave, but then things got worse. I could tell everyone in the restaurant was uncomfortable with the Reaper’s Bastards members there. They brewed trouble and spit it like fire.
As Slam reached into his leather cut thing, I feared he was going to bring out a gun. Instead, it was a pack of cigarettes. I watched in awe as he lit one up, clearly going against the law of no smoking. It wasn’t the restaurant that made that up, it was the state.
Behind me, I heard someone clear their throat.
It was Marco.
He looked sweaty and afraid.
Were they here because of Marco?
“Get them the fuck out,” he said to me. “I don’t care how. Call the police. Call your fucking father, Belle. Get them out of my restaurant.”
“I thought they helped you,” I blurted out.
Marco’s eyes went wide. He stepped toward me, his pointer finger high in the air. He came close to touching my nose. “Listen here, my business is my business. Right now, those two guys are not good for my business. Get. Them. The. Fuck. Out.”
Marco sped away and I was left to clean up another mess. I was used to it, but not quite of this caliber. Just walk up to a couple bad boy bikers and kick them out? Slam could lift me with one finger and toss me across the restaurant.
Why did that turn me on to think?
I shook my head and walked to the table, trying to come up with a little fire.
When I got to the table, Slam looked up at me. He knew what he was doing. Like a child breaking something on purpose just to get attention.
“You can’t smoke in here,” I said.
“Says who?”
I sighed. “It’s the law.”
“I don’t see any signs.”
“I don’t see any signs against killing people, but that seems to happen, too,” I said.
I started to sweat.
Challenging a guy like this was dangerous.
Slam laughed. “When I’m finished, I’ll put it out.”
“No. Put it out and leave. Right now.”
“You’re kicking me out, babe?” he asked.
“I’m not your babe, okay? Just leave. Because if you don’t, it’s going to cost me my job.”
“I feel terrible,” Slam said. He defiantly put the cigarette back between his lips and sucked on it. He blew the smoke at me and curled his lip. “So terrible.”
I felt my hands ball up tight. This guy was not the focus of my rage. All the bad that happened to me. The way my father treated me. The fact that the world cared so much that I was a virgin. And now I had this asshole being a prick to me. For a moment I thought I was going to thank him for knocking that guy around that slapped my ass.
Now?
Fuck him.
“Get out,” I said. “Or I’ll call the police. That’s your final offer.”
“An offer,” Slam said as he looked at his buddy, Knox. “You hear that? An offer?”
Knox grabbed his to-go bag and slid from the booth. Slam then stood up and I was suddenly sandwiched between the two biggest men I’d ever met in my life.
Slam still didn’t put the cigarette out. Instead, he stuck it between his lips. “Thanks, babe,” he said, the cigarette bouncing. He reached into his pocket and took out a wad of cash and threw it to the table.
The two of them finally left the restaurant.
But my night with Slam wasn’t over yet.
nine
(slam)
*MONTHS AGO*
I lifted the final set and slammed the bar on the bench. I sat up and caught my reflection in the mirror. I looked angry, like a bull ready to charge. Sweat poured off my body. The gym smelled of sweaty balls and blood. There were four ceiling fans, only three worked. They were so damn high up, you barely felt the air coming off them. Four boxing rings were set up, two of which were being used. The rest of the gym was nothing but old, shit weights, but they did the trick.
We were due for a vote later. Another run for the MC. I always approached that shit with hesitation. I hated moving things for people. Yeah, in some ways it kept our noses out of the fire, but at the same time, if anything went wrong, we were the ones who would take the heat.
But it kept us in business. The people we helped, in return, not only paid us what we wanted but they also provided us with favors as needed. That meant the Reap had a lot of crews in our corner. That was a good thing. That ensured survival.
I stood from the bench and unloaded the weights. I had been at the gym for two hours. The truth was that I had a pent up feeling I couldn’t get rid of. The clubhouse ass wasn’t cutting it lately. I needed to get out and get something fresh. Head to the bar and have a few shots of whiskey, pick a fight with some clean cut douche, and then find someone to take home and fuck. That’s what I needed.
After the vote… tonight…
I grabbed sixty pound dumbbells and started to curl them like they were gallons of milk. My biceps were huge and tight, veins throbbing as I lifted. In the reflection of the mirror I saw the door open and saw someone enter the gym.
Chief fucking Richards.
I swore that guy wanted to fuck me. He first popped me for slashing tires when I was thirteen. From there, every time I was in trouble, he was there to bust me. Now, he just followed me around, waiting for me to get into trouble.
I put the weights down and walked toward him.
The guy that owned the gym - Mutty - wasn't exactly up to date on inspections, licenses, taxes, or anything normal and legal. I didn’t need any heat coming on Mutty because of me.
“What do you want?” I asked the chief.
“No hello?” he asked as he slowly took off his sunglasses.
“What do you want?” I repeated.
“Couple calls came in from Neily County. Two bangers were shot. Execution style. Know anything about that?”
I laughed. “First off, if I was going to knock off some bangers, I wouldn’t confess it to you. Second, what the fuck would I have business in Neily for? Plus, it’s an hour away. I’ve been at the gym for two hours now.”
“Got proof?” he asked.
I pointed to a security camera hanging above the counter.
“I’ll need to see those tapes,” Chief Richards said with a grin.
We both knew the camera wasn’t real. Mutty put it there to scare people even though everyone in town knew it was fake. Not that Mutty had a lot of money or anything worthwhile to steal.
“What do you want from me?” I asked. “I’m at the fucking gym. I’m lifting weights. I’m not causing trouble.”
“You are trouble, Slam. And you’re going to fuck up. I’m going to be there to finally fucking get you. I’ve been chasing your ass more than half your life.”
“That’s the image you want?” I asked. “A cop chasing the ass of young boy. Think about it…”
Chief Richards’ face turned red. He put a hand to his gun. “Tell your friends I’ll be asking them about the Neily situation. I know you’re tied to it. If not, you’re up to no good. Too much action on the streets the last week around town. I can smell it. I can fucking smell it.”
I lifted my right arm and smelled my armpit. “Can you smell this?”
“Fuck you, Slam,” Chief Richards said. “You know, you had a chance. After your old man ate that truck, I thought you were going to be able to turn. Hell, I thought about taking you under my wing even. Thought maybe you could be a big brother kind of thing to my daughter. But the first time I looked into your eyes after your old man died, I knew you were evil. Pure evil.”
“If you’re here to arrest me, do it,” I said. “If you’re trying to fuck with me, get out. You know the Reap had nothing to do with shit a county over.”
Chief Richards slowly put his sunglasses back on. He took his hand off his gun and put a finger to my chest. “Mark it, Slam, I’m going to fucking get you. Someday soon, I’m going to get you.”
“When you decide on that day, you know where to find me,” I said.
The fucking prick left the gym, got into his SUV, and drove away.
My body was exhausted but I went back to the weights for another hour.
That was when I knew eventually I’d have to prove a point to Chief Richards. If he was going to fuck with me, I was going to fuck with him.
I stacked a bar with more weight than I had lifted before. The anger and rage let me
lift and lower it two dozen times.
Nothing could ever break me.
Or so I thought.
And the one thing that would break me… a fucking woman.
ten
(slam)
*NOW*
“You’re fucking crazy,” Knox said.
“I’m crazy? You just ordered your old lady dinner to-go. What the fuck are you? You’re like some married old man, appeasing the wife.”
“I get to go home to a wife that loves me, a kid that loves me, and when the kid goes to bed, I get pussy so good and so sweet, it’d make a man like you cry.”
I snorted. “Maybe I should give it a try.”
“Yeah, right,” Knox said. “Come within ten feet of Ana and I’ll put a bullet in the back of your head.”
“I’m not going to get in trouble.”
“You fucking almost killed someone tonight.”
“And I explained, calmly, who I was and he understood. So I told him to say someone in a black hoodie jacked him up. I took his stuff and tossed it into the dumpster. So tomorrow he could come back and get his shit back. I told him I memorized his address and if he told the police anything, the entire Reap would make sure he never saw daylight again.”
“Christ, Slam,” Knox growled. “Like we need any extra heat on us.”
“Stop. He fucking grabbed her…”
“So that’s where you’re going already,” Knox said. “Protecting her.”
“No. I’m claiming that ass as mine. Fresh, untouched ass.” I inhaled the air and grinned.
“Be safe,” Knox said. “No fucking trouble tonight.”
“Scouts honor,” I said.
“Fuck your honor,” Knox said. He put a fist out. “We’re going to get Tommy and settle up. I really want you there, brother. But you can’t lose your shit. I can pull you in on it. I just need to know you’re going to be calm.”
“Take it to the guys and let me know,” I said. “I’m not going to cause a war within the club.”
“I know it had to be hard inside.”
“You ever been inside?” I asked Knox.
“You know that answer. Not like you were, brother. Not like you were.”
SLAM HER Page 4
