by Ryan Michele
Staring into her eyes, I see something is missing. Yes, she’s happy with him, but he’s lacking somewhere or their relationship isn’t what she wants.
“And …?” I ask.
She sighs heavily and looks me dead in the eye. “He’s a good boy.” Her tone is so down, a laugh escapes my lips.
“Like ’em bad, do ya?” I tease.
“Who doesn’t?” Breelyn pipes in. “Tattoos, muscles … hell, maybe even rides a Harley. What’s not to like?”
“It’s just … I don’t feel the spark. I like him, but not in the throw-me-against-the-wall-and-fuck-me way. I want that. Someone who can’t get enough of me and who I can’t get enough of. Someone who, when I walk into a room, his eyes are only on me.”
While I wish her luck in this, it doesn’t exist. Some may call me cynical. I don’t give a fuck. All those pipe dreams of ever finding a man to do that for me went out the window a long damn time ago. There is no fairy-tale happily ever after shit. It’s all made up.
“Yeah.” Breelyn sighs dramatically while Avery looks to the dance floor.
“Nah, who needs all that? Find you a hottie to go home with tonight and have fun. You only get one life. Live it up and don’t try to push things.” My reasoning sucks, but I’ve never said I’m an expert.
“Yeah,” Breelyn responds as the waitress comes by and drops off the drinks. We toss them back as a familiar song comes over the stereo system. Breelyn’s eyes light up. “Come on!” She jumps up so fast there’s a slight sway to her step, but she recovers quickly.
“Hell yes!”
We all make our way to the dance floor, moving to the music, letting it carry us away. Bodies press into us, but we remain next to each other, dancing our asses off.
Letting loose isn’t something I normally do, because doing that means you aren’t in control of your surroundings. I like to know what’s going on and who’s where. But dancing is an outlet for me. Some may say that my outlet is fighting and beating people up. It’s not. That’s my job. Not the beating people up part, but it seems to come along with the territory. It doesn’t make me feel free, though.
Dancing, getting lost in the music, the heat surrounding me, that does.
I make the most of each move and get lost in letting the rhythm take me away. By the time we’re done, sweat glistens off my body and my breaths are difficult.
Falling back into my chair, I suck in the much-needed cool air.
“Damn, that was fun,” Avery says, pulling up the chair next to me. “Did you see that guy trying to dance with you?”
I look toward the dance floor and spot him instantly. Since I kept brushing him off, I hope he got the hint.
“Not my type.”
“What is your type?” Avery challenges, lifting her hand to the waitress.
“Fuck if I know anymore.” I thought what Lance and I had was something special. He comes to the fights, which is where we met. He was persistent, and my dumbass gave in. We were together five months, and the fucker cheated.
“You need a man.”
“I need my vibrator. Men are a pain in the ass that I don’t want to deal with.”
Breelyn stumbles up to the table with a wide smile, Skyler right behind her. “Let’s go to X!”
X is a strip club here in Sumner, owned by the Ravage MC and run by Princess, an ol’ lady in the club. You’d have to live under a rock ten feet underground to not know this information in this town. It’s also hot and a whole lot of fun.
“Hell yeah.”
We pile out of Bimbos’ and head to X. I’m happy the last thing I drank was a glass of water and not the shots Avery wanted since I’m driving. If I couldn’t, I wouldn’t get behind a wheel.
We make our way up to the front door of the strip club where a large man sits. As soon as he sees us, his arm goes out, ushering us through. One good thing is they never make women pay the cover. They know, as well as we do, the men will all be looking, and not just at the women on the stage.
Breelyn makes her way through the crowd, everyone filing behind her, as we find a table in the front. More like, there were two men sitting there, they saw us, and got up quickly, then two more chairs mysteriously showed up so we each could sit. Funny how that works.
The woman on the stage sways her hips seductively to the music, like she’s been doing this for years. Her long, dark hair has an edgy feel by the way she flips it, bringing on the seductive look. The black leather puts up a don’t-fuck-with-me vibe, adding to the men around her going crazy. She owns the stage. It’s admirable, the fact she can get up there, dance in front of all these men, and have such confidence in doing it. I’m not sure I could. It takes a special kind of confidence to pull that off.
Pulling out dollar bills and passing them to the dancers, we make sure each of the girls are tipped well as we laugh, drink, and enjoy ourselves, picking up some moves along the way. We’re standing up by the stage, dancing, interacting with the woman on stage who is eating it up because the guys are all over it and money is pouring on the stage.
Two men come up behind Avery and Breelyn, grinding against their asses. We’re all dancing. I think nothing of it until Breelyn’s gaze darts to mine with panic written over it. Halting and taking in the situation, I see the man’s hands are roughly grabbing Breelyn’s ass as she turns around repeatedly, telling him to stop and trying to pull away from him. He holds on tight with his other hand, not letting her move.
Bastard.
Marching up to him, I push him off her. “She fucking said no!” I yell over the music.
He glares at me after bumping into a table where several guys are sitting. Each one of them rises, trying not to let the spilled beer get on their clean dress pants. They need a new hangout if they want to be so damn clean.
“Bitch!” he growls, coming toward me.
Fuck yeah, this is what I’m talking about.
He charges. Two shots to the face has him stumbling backward. A swipe of his feet has him falling flat to the ground on his ass. Then my hair is pulled from behind.
What the hell is it with men and pulling a woman’s hair? That shit needs to stay in the bedroom.
Lifting my leg, I nail him in the gut, and he doubles over.
“Bag!” I call out to any of the girls.
Avery tosses my bag to me. Quickly, I grab the zip ties, just as guy number one comes at me. I just step out of the way.
His momentum is so much that he doesn’t stop, causing him to fall on top of guy number two, who yells at him to get off.
Not wasting a second, I pull guy one’s arms behind his back and secure them, pressing him into guy two to hold them both down.
I look around for a damn security guard. They’ve been everywhere all night, yet the one time I need them, they’re nowhere to be found.
My friends surround me.
“Are you okay?” Skyler asks as I blow a loose strand of hair away from my face.
“Peachy. Can you find a guard or someone?”
Just then, a bulky man who looks as though he’s a brick house pushes his way through the throng of men. He looks at me, then the men, and back at me.
“What the fuck is goin’ on here?” his deep voice bellows.
“Playin’ Candy Land,” I clip, wanting very badly to roll my eyes.
He crosses his arms over his chest.
I huff. “Fucker wouldn’t keep his hands to himself. Thought this place was supposed to be good on security?” People talk, so I know X has the best, or so I thought.
“And you did all this yourself?”
“What the fuck!” A woman’s voice comes from my left.
I turn my head, meeting the Princess. She’s hard not to miss with her dark hair with bright red streaks in it. I’ve seen her out and about in town, but have never officially met her. Only heard of her. And what I’ve heard is she’s pretty fucking kickass.
The guys below me start to move more. It becomes a struggle to hold them, so I let them go, but s
tand at the ready.
“Fuckers can’t keep their hands to themselves,” I tell her, and her eyes narrow at the men. With one in zip ties and two a bit dazed, it’s almost funny.
“Dammit,” she growls, turning to the bulky man. “I told you to keep an eye on them.” This comes as a shock, but I listen. “You knew them dancin’ up there would be a magnet.” She doesn’t yell, but her tone is not mistaken. Deadly. Fierce. Powerful.
“I was—”
“Don’t,” she growls, clenching her fists. “No excuses. Go see Cali and get reassigned.”
He starts to talk, but one look from her and he decides to just leave.
“You two, don’t fuckin’ move,” she orders.
The guys halt as she pulls out her phone and sends a text to someone, then looks back at us. It’s strange being in this woman’s presence. She’s had such a reputation in the community for so long that she almost seems like an illusion. Not really here. Almost like a celebrity that you occasionally see on TV, but don’t really get the full effect. Being this close, I can feel the anger coming off her. She’s definitely here.
“Sorry about that. These assholes will be dealt with.” She nods toward the men.
“Appreciate it.”
“Did you do that yourself?” she asks.
“Hell yeah, she did. She’s the best!” Skyler says, and Princess’ brow raises in question.
“It’s my job.”
She goes to ask me something, but stops as two men barrel up to us, eyes pissed as hell. But fuck me, they’re hot. One has tons of tattoos, while the other only has a few. They are both well over six feet tall. One has light brown hair that’s tied in a knot at the back of his head. The other is dark-haired with a playful yet sinister look on his face. They wear the Ravage MC logo on their leather. Great, now they’re involved.
“These two,” Princess says.
Without a word, the Ravage MC guys grab the assholes and guide them out of the place.
“Your job?” she asks, not missing a beat.
“I work for Schade.”
Her eyes narrow to slits. “Rylie?”
This shocks me, and not much does these days. I’ve been there and done that for a long-ass time. Her knowing my name is strange.
“Yeah.”
A smile graces her face as I cross my arms over my chest. “No wonder you could put these two out. I’ve heard about you.” She shakes my hand. “You just made a friend.”
I smirk. Friend is a relative word, but I roll with it. Who doesn’t need someone like Princess on their side?
5
Deke
“Tonight. Nine-thirty,” Ricko says in my ear as I sit at my desk in the shop. Jerry, the owner, said I needed one to make sure the right parts were ordered, even though he knows I give all the orders to the secretary and she enters them in the main office. As long as the job gets done, he’s happy.
It is nice to get away in my own space, though.
Ricko’s call comes at the perfect time. I can feel it building. The need for release. The need for escape. The drive that can push me over the edge if I’m not careful. I’ve felt pent-up since the call with Emery two days ago.
It doesn’t do anyone any good to play the woulda, coulda, shoulda game. That’s not in the cards. The present is all one can deal with, but that doesn’t stop the worry I have for her. I refuse to let her go down the wrong path like I did. Not that she’s to that point, but I’ve been texting her to make sure her head is still on straight. So far, she seems to be pulling herself together, but I may need to suck it up and make a trip to her school. Seeing her won’t change anything, but maybe it’ll help her in some way.
A throat clearing brings me back to the conversation on the line. “How much?”
“Seven K.”
Sure, the man is out to make money, but I need to make this shit worthwhile.
“Ricko,” I warn, not about to say more. He’ll pay. He always does.
“Fine. Ten K, but that’s all I’ve got for this one.”
It’s funny. That’s exactly what he says at every fight. I’m not stupid. I do my homework. The assholes who come to these fights have serious cash and bet it like it’s water. Knew one guy who walked out with thirty thousand, just on bets. High rollers with money to burn. Therefore, I know Ricko pulls in serious cash.
“I’ll be there.” I click the phone off, tossing it to the desk. At least tonight I’ll be able to let go of the build inside.
Take that, demons, I tell myself before pushing out of my chair and getting back to the shop where I can put my mind and my hands to work.
Like all the others after a fight, the drive home is quiet after dropping Ray off at his place. The guy tonight got in a few good shots, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I relish the pain. It’s a reminder I can still feel, that I’m still alive.
When I left the cage, he was passed out on the mat. With each punch I threw, a small bit of weight left my shoulders, but unfortunately, not enough. Even the fuck after didn’t release anything this time. If anything, the weight felt a bit heavier.
Darkness surrounds me as I pull into my place, seeing a figure sitting on the steps leading up to my apartment. They’re hunched over, a hoodie covering them, their arms wrapped around their knees. It appears like they are rocking back and forth.
Whoever it is, they are obviously here for me. No one should be here, especially not for me. No attachments.
I pull into my spot and park. With my gun at the ready, I exit the truck.
When the figure rises, I lift my gun, pointing it right at their head.
“Deke, thank God.”
I remember that voice.
“Austyn?”
She pulls the hood away from her face, and her dark hair falls, reminding me of Aunt Princess. Shit, she’s a spitting image of her—hair, body, and even some of her facial features. Even in the dark of night, she stands out like her mother.
“Hey, how’s it goin’?” she asks as if we haven’t seen each other in four years and this is just a causal meeting.
I lower the gun and holster it behind my back. The closer I get, the more I can see her face. I don’t fucking like what I see. The left side of her face has a huge bruise on it, and her eye is swollen.
“What the fuck happened?” I ask, getting closer and examining her face.
She takes a step back, no doubt realizing I’m not the kid I once was. My body is bulky yet lean. Not to mention I’ve been told by Ray that I look like I can break a man in half. I could.
“Upstairs, then you talk.” I point.
With a large exhalation of breath, she turns and moves up the stairs.
I move around and unlock the door. She steps in, and I flip on the switch as she looks around the place. In the light, I can see the many shades of purples and greens as the bruising is no doubt setting in. This is recent. I don’t like it even more.
“Nice place?” It comes out more of a question, but I don’t give a fuck what she thinks of the place. The only way she could’ve found out where I live is if Emery told her. No one else knows. Well, the club keeping tabs on me could be a possibility. With the way things were left between my father and I, however, I don’t think that’s the case.
“Cut the shit. What happened?” I toss my shit to the small table then turn to look at my cousin. She’s grown up a fucking lot. No doubt Aunt Princess and Uncle Cruz have their hands full, and that’s by looks alone. The fire in her eyes adds an entirely different dynamic that no doubt will go boom at some point.
“I just need a break from home. I talked to Emery; she told me to come here.”
“Austyn, I don’t do bullshit. Fuckin’ talk or leave.” Not that I’d truly let her leave with a busted face in a place she doesn’t know, but she doesn’t need to know that. In fact, when she gets her shit sorted and out of here, it’s best she not know the hold the family still has on my heart, my loyalty, and my mind.
Her eyes don’t meet mine as she sp
eaks. It puts me on edge. “I got into a little bit of trouble.”
I step into Austyn’s space, and she takes a step back, bumping into the wall. Her breaths pick up, and a small bit of fear flashes in her eyes. Good.
Her eyes lower a bit. “Please step back,” she requests quietly, and after a moment, I do. “I left with this guy I met at party. He took me on a bit of a road trip.” She’s being vague, so I cross my arms over my chest and clear my throat. “Alright, we skipped town. I wasn’t planning on being gone long, but it’s been a couple of days. We got into a fight.” She lifts her hand up to her face. “And he kicked me out of the car.”
“And you just happened to get kicked out at my doorstep?”
“No.” She looks away. “I hitchhiked here.”
“You what!” My words are explosive. I want to beat some ever-loving sense into her brain. “You fucking hitchhiked? Have you lost your goddamned mind?”
She holds her hand up, trying to placate me, but that’s not happening. “I made it here, that’s all that matters.” Her voice cracks. There is more to this story. She’s avoiding my eyes. Austyn is shaken, but why?
Anger bubbles in my veins. Has she not learned anything from anyone?
“That’s not all that matters. Fucking hell, Austyn! So many things could’ve happened.”
She runs her fingers through her hair, pulling it at the roots. “You think I don’t know that? I couldn’t call Mom, Dad, Cooper, or Nox.”
“Why the fuck not!” I’m fully aware that I’m arguing with my twenty-year-old cousin, but I don’t give a fuck.
Austyn has support. She has family. It’s not that I’m not willing to pound the fucker in the ground for her, because I am. Why come to me when there is a clubhouse full of badass motherfuckers ready to pounce in the name of family?
“Look at my face, Deke!” She points to it. “If they find out about this, I’m fucking toast.”
