Hammered

by Mj Fields

  She rolls her eyes and looks at Shirley. “What can I get for you? A burger? A clue?”

  Shirley looks confused.

  The little morsel leans down and whispers, “A box of condoms, because this guy...he’s what you would call a male whore.”

  Shirley laughs out loud, and the tiny shit looks at her like she’s crazy.

  “If he’d have me, I’d chance the STI.”

  Itty bitty’s jaw drops.

  I fucking love that look.

  “I’ll take a double burger deluxe, with the works,” I say before she has a chance to say a damn thing.

  “Make that two. I plan on burning off some calories tonight,” Shirley says, and it couldn’t be more perfect.

  “Fine, whatever,” she remarks and walks away.

  Shirley leans in and asks, “Friend of yours?”

  I laugh. “Nah, just some chick who seems to show up everywhere I go.”

  She shrugs. “Might want to get a restraining order.”

  “It’s not like that. Apparently, she has a few jobs.” I look past Shirley and at her.

  “Gotcha. Well, you’ve clearly made an impression. Which is understandable. I mean, no one between the ages of eight and eighty can miss you, doll.” She winks.

  I shrug. “Blessing and a curse.”

  “I’d say the former.” She looks down and grabs a couple folders out of the briefcase beside her. “You have Mags and a new tenant. Your mother handled these contracts; I didn’t. Moving forward, I will be doing all of them, or you’ll never make a penny.”

  “Sounds good.” I grab my cup of coffee and take a drink.

  Shirley talks about her ideas. She has it all planned and seems totally fucking ecstatic. I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about, nor do I care, because cockblock is glaring at me every time I look up.

  By the end of her spiel, I have no idea what I have agreed to, but Shirley is excited.

  “Just put it down on paper and send me an email so I can have a final read through before any plans are executed.”

  She nods. “Of course.”

  When the food comes, it’s brought by the bus boy, which is complete shit. I know damn well if I had just made an ass out of myself, I would probably be hiding out, too.

  I eat slow, expecting her to come out, refill a cup, ask if we need anything else, but she doesn’t. In fact, as I look around, I don’t see her at all.

  What the hell? People don’t just disappear.

  Another waitress brings the check. I take it and ask, “Where did the other waitress go?”

  “Oh, she left.” She smiles at me.

  “Really? How does your boss feel about this?”

  She laughs like I’m joking. I’m not.

  “Oh, you’re serious,” she says when she finally gets it. “Phoenix only does breakfast. Usually, she’s gone by now, but we were busy today. She works at the bar tonight, so she needed to get home and catch a nap.”

  I pull out my wallet and hand her some cash. “She get the tip?”

  Now, I try not to laugh, but I’m pretty damn sure the tip is all of me she could handle.

  “Of course she will.” She smiles and takes the cash. “I’ll be right back with change.”

  “No need,” I say, grabbing the files on the table. “It’s hers.”

  When I stand, Shirley scoots out and gives me a hug. “Great seeing you again, Gage. I’ll get you that email by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Thanks.” I give her a quick squeeze, then walk toward the door with a name.

  Phoenix.

  Outside the diner, I sit in the truck and hit the app, trying to set something up for the night. It’s not hard. In fact, it takes less than five minutes to score a sure thing to meet for drinks, and yeah, we are meeting at the bar.

  If Phoenix wants to dish out shit, I can give it back. And fuck, I want to give it back hard.

  Walking into the bar on a Friday night is a hell of a lot different than it was last night. The place is packed, not an empty barstool in sight.

  I stand back and watch her. She and the other girl are smiling and laughing, a totally different look on her.

  They are both wearing red shirts that say Fireball. The other girl’s kind of hangs off her, but not Phoenix’s. It hugs her little tits much tighter than the clothes she wore last night or at the diner today. She is wearing lipstick that matches the shirt color, and her hair is down, unlike the other two times I saw her.

  She looks goddamn fuck-able. Too fuck-able.

  Fuck.

  I make my way up to the bar. Her back is to me as she sets a beer down in front of a guy wearing a cowboy hat who is ogling her tits. She then grabs his cash and rolls her eyes when she stuffs it in the register. Then she walks over and looks up, her fake as hell smile fading. She’s back to looking angry.

  “What’ll it be tonight? Ceftriaxone? A shot of Penicillin? The number to the local shrink to help you figure out why the hell you need to fuck with a different woman’s emotions every day?” She pauses and looks beside me. “Scratch that. A shrink won’t help. You need shock therapy.”

  “Are you Gage?” I hear and look beside me.

  I smile and nod. “You must be Tonya.”

  “Tammy,” she says, looking mildly annoyed.

  Phoenix laughs.

  I look back at her. “We’ll take two shots of Fireball.” I point at her tits. “And a couple buttery nipples.”

  “Oh, I love buttery nipples,” my date says, her voice actually squeaking.

  Fucking annoying.

  Phoenix huffs and looks at Tonya—I mean, Tammy—and shakes her head. “Your blonde didn’t come out of a bottle, did it, babe?”

  “Nope, my hairstylist uses a bowl to mix the bleach.” She smiles as if she was just given a compliment.

  I bite the side of my cheek when Phoenix looks at me.

  “Give me a draft, too, Phoenix.”

  She shakes her head. “How much did you pay to get that information? And whose name do I need to add to my list of people who I want to off for giving it to you?”

  “I’ll never tell.” I wink.

  This time, she doesn’t flip me off. She actually smirks a little.

  When she comes back, she sets the beer and four shot glasses in front of me, then pushes two to the side to...

  “Tammy, you mixing your shots up like him, or you gonna stick to one or the other?” Phoenix grabs two bottles from under the bar and holds them up.

  “I’ll take the butter nipples,” she says in that same annoying fucking voice.

  Phoenix gives me a sideways glance and pours the shots.

  I grab my first shot and hold it up to toast with my date. “To balls on fire.”

  “And butter nipples,” she says, hitting her shot glass to mine.

  When she shoots it down, she spills a little down her front. “Oh, dammit, where’s the bathroom, hon?”

  Phoenix points to the sign that says bathroom. “Right over there.”

  When she leaves, I sit back and cross my arms over my chest, waiting for Phoenix to give me hell.

  She doesn’t disappoint.

  “That woman clearly doesn’t have a brain in her head. What the hell is wrong with you?” she says it, then looks around, her eyes stopping on someone.

  I look to see what got her attention. A man.

  “That your boyfriend?”

  “Gross.” She laughs. “That’s my boss.”

  “Sure about that?” I ask, because the fucker keeps looking at her.

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” she says with a smile on her face and in her voice. “But I’m sure. And I have to be nice to assholes like you because you got me in trouble last night.”

  “How did I get you in trouble?” I half joke, damn sure wanting to know.

  “Because you pushed buttons. Pissed me right the fuck off.” She keeps that smile in place. “Actually, you kind of make me sick.”

  Now I laugh. “Squirt, the m
oisture pooling between your legs isn’t an illness. It’s the fact that you need to get fucked...by me.”

  Her smile drops.

  “Smile, little morsel. He’s watching. Women like you, who act all fucking angry, haven’t had it in a while. I’ll dare say you’ve never had it good at all.”

  She turns to walk away then turns back. “You’re disgusting.”

  “I’m a man who admits what he wants. I don’t hide shit.”

  “Oh, so you want to fuck Tonya—”

  “Tammy,” I correct her, laughing while I do.

  “What’s so funny? How the hell do you expect me to keep their names straight if you can’t?”

  “It’s funny because, for someone who thinks I’m disgusting, yet looks at me like she wants me to split her in half, you sure know a lot about my personal life.”

  “Well, you keep shoving them in my face,” she snaps.

  “Easy, tiger,” I say, leaning forward. “Your boss is still watching.”

  “Right now, I give zero fu—”

  “Because your little pussy is wet and so hot for me that, if we were alone, you’d be on your knees, begging to get fucked right.”

  “Is that so?” She crosses her arms in front of her.

  “It is. But, at this point, the only thing I’d let you do is suck my cock. I wouldn’t even give you my cum. I’d pull out and walk away, leaving you so fucking worked up you’d be lying in bed tonight, getting yourself off to the thought of me tearing you apart.”

  “Oh, please,” she says with a fuck of a lot less conviction than I’m sure she wanted to exude.

  “And I’d be staring down at my dick, looking at the fireball red lipstick ring around it while I fucked my hand because, at least it knows what it wants.”

  “Hey, you ready to get out of here?” my date asks.

  “No, I plan on closing this bar down.”

  “But I thought we were going to—”

  “Change of plans,” I say, still looking at Phoenix. “I know what I want. I want to get fucked up on Fireball.”

  “Okay, but I can only leave Timmy home for a few hours. If he wakes up and I’m gone, he’ll flip.”

  I turn and look at her. “Who’s Timmy?”

  “My kid.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Eight.”

  “And he’s home alone?” I ask.

  “Well, it’s late and he’s sleeping.”

  I feel my hands fist into balls. “How far are you from home?”

  “An hour.” She smiles like she has no clue why the fuck that’s wrong.

  “Tammy, go home to your kid.”

  She opens her mouth to say something, and I cut her off.

  “Before I call the fucking cops.”

  She leaves in a hurry.

  I’m so fucking pissed I can’t even sit still.

  “She’s a piece of work,” Phoenix says as I stand.

  I throw a hundred on the bar. “Goodnight, Phoenix.”

  “Wait, do you want change?” she asks.

  “No. What I want is, the next time I walk into this fucking place, you stow the bitch and admit what you want. In case you can’t figure it out, it’s my dick.”

  I walk out of the bar, pissed at myself. First for meeting up with some bitch whose need to get laid makes her leave her kid home, and second because I didn’t even want to fuck her. I wanted to piss off the bartender. All I can think about is how much I want to give her what we both want. A fucking release.

  Chapter Four

  This Land

  Phoenix

  I don’t know if I even got more than a minute’s sleep. I have never been so completely disgusted and turned on at the same time.

  No man, none, has ever spoken to me like that. Sure, I have had the dirty bedroom talk, but it was like it was rehearsed, like he had watched a porno to get some tips. Obviously, none had watched it to the end to learn that the chick finishes first.

  Hell, I have never even finished at all, without doing it myself.

  I sigh as I get out of bed and look out the window. I missed the sun rising. Shit, I needed that. It focuses me.

  I walk into the bathroom, brushing my hair and throwing it into a ponytail. Then I brush my teeth and wipe off the smudged mascara that must not have all come off last night when I washed my face.

  Tonight, I work. Then tomorrow starts my two days off.

  “Thank God,” I say after spitting out the mouthwash.

  I walk into the bedroom to grab some leggings, a pair of socks, and a long-sleeved tee-shirt to get ready to mow some of this big old lawn. It’s cardio and cathartic. I certainly won’t get to it all. It took me two full days last time, but I can get a good portion of it done before getting ready for work so that I have part of Monday to do whatever I want.

  When I walk outside with my phone and earbuds in hand, I look over at Mags. As always, she’s sitting on her porch glider and drinking a cup of coffee.

  “Hey, honey girl.” She smiles. “Got your coffee ready.”

  She holds up the stainless thermos as I hop down the stairs.

  She slides left and pats the spot next to her. “What are you all dressed and ready to go do?”

  I set down my phone and hold the cup while she pours me some coffee. “I think I’m going to mow some lawn today.”

  “With the push mower?” She laughs as she sets the thermos on the table beside her.

  “I’m telling you, Mags, it’s cheaper than a gym membership.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m telling you, there’s a fancy tractor that mows in that big old barn down the way.”

  “I don’t want to touch that thing.” I laugh. “I’d break it.”

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit.” She looks past me and toward the big house. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Then she picks up a pair of binoculars and looks through them. She giggles.

  I look in the direction of the house.

  “That man is something else,” she says, handing me the binoculars.

  “Mags, shame on you. I thought all this time you were watching birds, not spying.” I laugh as I put the binoculars to my eyes.

  When I finally catch a glimpse of what she’s chuckling about, I nearly die.

  I quickly pull the binoculars away from my face and look at her. “Mags! He’s—”

  “Naked as the day he was born.” She chuckles and slaps her knee. “Beautiful as a boy, and absolutely magnificent now.”

  “Oh, my God, Mags!” I scold, laughing.

  “Tell me I’m wrong.” She shrugs and winks.

  I shake my head. “I’m not saying a word.”

  “If I was younger and hadn’t changed his and his brothers’ diapers, I’d go after that man.” She shakes her head. “Best one out of the bunch.”

  I want nothing more than to get a good look at that man and his beautiful ass. It would definitely take my mind off the asshole from last night’s dream.

  Mags nudges the binoculars. “Go ahead. Take another look.”

  “No way,” I say on a laugh.

  “I won’t tell a soul, honey girl.” She grins. “Not a soul.”

  “No, thank you.” I shake my head. “What the heck is he doing outside butt naked?”

  “These woods...This place changes a person; brings you right back to nature.” She smiles fondly toward the big house.

  “Well, some of us clearly have enough sense to wear clothes.”

  “If I was your age, and I looked like him, or you, knowing what I do now, I’d have spent a hell of a lot more time naked than I ever did. That’s a fact.”

  I drink down my coffee and stand up. Then I give her a peck on the cheek, grab my phone, earbuds, and pull my shades down to cover my eyes as I say, “See you later,” to Mags.

  I walk down the path to the barn, careful not to look toward the house, because naked and unafraid may still be out there doing God only knows what on that deck.

  How the hell is it that I moved in
to the middle of nowhere, and all of the sudden, hot-bodied, tree-like men with tattoos seem to be everywhere. It’s just wrong.

  Now I know how Eve felt.

  I slide the huge red barn door to the side and walk into the dark barn. I pull the John Deere push mower outside then go in and grab the dark red metal gas can, hoping there is enough gas in it to get what I have time to mow done for now.

  With a tank full of gas, I pull the cord to start it. I don’t pull hard enough and have to give it three more tugs before it starts.

  I pop my earbuds in and turn on the country music that I seem to be enjoying more than I thought I would and turn it up.

  “Girl Crush” by Little Big Town plays, and I laugh as I sing along to words I know that never in a million years would I admit to.

  I mow around the barn three times, starting closest to it so not to let the grass hit the barn.

  The sun is shining down on me, giving me natural vitamin D, the smell of fresh cut grass is wafting in the clean country air, music is blasting in my ears, and I am singing at the top of my lungs, trying to learn the words to a song I heard last night after the cock-thinking caveman walked out of the bar. “It’s Different for Girls” by Dierks Bentley. I put it on repeat so I can learn the words.

  When I know the grass won’t fly and hit the barn, I turn around and go the other way, making sure the lines are perfectly straight.

  After the sixth time around, I’m singing along, “It’s different for girls when their hearts get broke. They can’t tape it back together with a whiskey and Coke. They don’t take someone home and act like it’s nothing. They can’t just switch it off every time they feel something. A guy gets drunk with his friends, and he might hook up—WHAT THE HELL!” I scream when I feel a tap on my shoulder, nearly jumping out of my own damn skin, releasing the lawn mower handle and nearly walking on air to get away from whatever the hell is after me.

  When I am far enough away, I look back and see him, hunched over, arms crossed over his stomach, laughing his fool head off.

  “Fuck you!” I scream, pulling my headphones off. “What the hell is with you! I mean, Jesus Christ, you follow me to both jobs then here! Are you a fucking sociopath?”

  He doesn’t say a damn thing, still laughing as he turns around and walks around the barn.