by Jordan Marie
“I still say it’s fucking cold to test a brother. He’s been part of our damned group for years now. He should have our respect,” Crusher says, drawing my attention back to the conversation at hand.
I understand his point but I’m getting damn tired of being questioned. It’s my fucking club. My word was law. It has to be that way and it’s not that I am a hard ass with a god complex. Screw that shit. No, it is that my decisions hold lives in the balance. My own sure, but more importantly those of the men who have pledged their loyalty to me. I alone am responsible for keeping our asses alive to see another day. I need my men to have my back—not question me. Crusher is a good man, and one of my closest brothers, but I’m fucking tire of his shit.
“Enough. I fucking heard you the first fifteen damned times you spouted that shit. I’m not fucking asking for your permission dick-weed, I’m informing you of my fucking decision. Respect that shit or get the fuck out.”
“I’m just saying...”
“I know what the fuck you’re saying, but this is not the first fucking time Twist has been called out. Shit, it’s not even the second. I’m sick of fucking dealing with this. I can either trust a brother or I can’t. Skull can be an asshole, but he shoots straight. If he says he’s heard talk and mentions a name, then that means the motherfucker has seen shit up close and personal. He knows something.”
I look at my brothers, and they are my brothers, and I know I’m a fucked up looking S-O-B. I’m big and broad, I worked hard for that. You couldn’t really be the president of an MC and look like a damn science nerd. My dark skin is marred with scars and tats and my hands are callused and rough as shit. I don’t care.
I am, who I am.
My brothers, though? Each one is different. Crusher has dark hair and skin tanned naturally by the sun. He liked the military and kept his buzz cut going, though maybe a little longer than regulation since he got out. Irish has strawberry blond hair, which is shaggy and cut with no real direction. I secretly think he just took the scissors and chopped off a whack of hair when it annoyed him. His skin was so fucking white! Damn man, made me want to put on my shades when he walked around without a shirt. Bull? He was a brother, and a lot like me. There’s not much pretty about him that’s for damn sure, even though it took him a freaking hour to shave his head bald. You would think he was a pretty boy, but wasn’t. He’s quiet and rarely smiles. As club enforcer that shit works though. Gunner and Freak are different as night and day and they are real brothers, sharing the same parents—not that you would believe it from looking at them. Freak is covered in tats, his hair is thick and long and covers most of his face, mailing because he doesn’t give a shit. Gunner, on the other hand, is blonde, blue-eyed and could have been a surfer dude. He doesn’t really fit in with our rough ass crew—at least from the surface. He’s laid back and upbeat. Completely different from any of us. I liked him though. He’s a straight shooter and I figure he’d be the one to have trouble with this shit, since he brought Twist in. He was remaining quiet though and I appreciated it. Now if Crusher would quit dogging my ass about it.
I have shit I want to do tonight. Namely Nicole, damn bitch has me dying for her again. She is going to be deep trouble for me. I know it. Fuck, I saw it coming head on, but I couldn’t stop that shit. I don’t even want to.
“Are we done with this fucking convo now boys, or do I have to sit here and watch you jerk your dicks before I can leave?” I growl. Crusher gives me a pissed off look, but he nods with the others. “Then it’s settled. Gun, Twist trusts you. You hang by his side both when he knows and especially when he doesn’t. Freak you are there when Gun ain’t. You get so far in his shit, you have to shower.”
“We hear ya Boss,” Freak agrees. Gunner just nods his silent agreement. Gun can be eerily quiet when it came to club business. It could weird some out, but not me. Hell, no. I know when Gun talks I should listen, so it works.
“Crush, you and Bull get started on your roles in this shit-fest. I need answers by yesterday. I need to know what’s going on this week, before we find ourselves in a fucking mess.”
“What if the man is innocent and we do this shit to him? What then Drag?” Crusher questions me yet-a-fucking-again. At least this time he doesn’t sound like a damned sullen little bitch about it.
“Then I take him to the fucking side and man up. But, this fucking shit? It’s our life. Club comes first and aunt no motherfucker above suspicion when the safety of our lives and our fucking livelihood is on the line. You feeling me here Crush?”
“Yeah man I got you.”
“Then church is mother-fucking-adjourned. Smoke’em if you got’em, but I’m off. Got somewhere I need to fucking be and it ain’t with you pricks.”
“Hold up Boss, I’ll head out with you.” I was already heading for the door but it didn’t surprise me to hear Gunner. He’d been staring at me during the whole meeting. He might have been silent, but he brought Twist in, so he’d want to give me shit about this I’m sure. I appreciated him holding that shit in though in front of the others. If he and Crush both questioned my decisions, this meeting would have been a lot worse and definitely bloodier. They may be my club brothers, but as the president, if I need to knock heads together to prove there’s a reason I am the leader, then I would.
We get halfway back to our bikes when Gunner finally speaks up, but what he says isn’t exactly what I’m expecting.
“Hey boss, I’m sorry. If this shit is true, then it’s on me and I didn’t mean to put the club in danger.”
“If this shit is true, it’s on Twist, not you Gun.”
“I brought him in. Gave him my vote, to get him prospect status and petitioned for him to be added to the inner team. That’s on me,” Gun says, and I could hear the regret in his voice.
“If this shit holds and we find out Skull’s not blowing smoke up our asses, then Twist made those decisions on his fucking own. You can’t take the responsibility for that shit. You always
put your brothers first Gun. I know that. The brothers know that. Rest easy man and don’t get your tits all knotted up about this shit.”
I know what Gun is feeling, I’ve been in his position and it sucks.
He gives me a weak smile that I see out of the corner of my eye. We pull the side by side into the garage area and bail out.
“Want to head out to Pussy’s for a drink?”
Pussy Willow is a club operated strip joint where the men liked to hang out—for obvious reasons. Any other night I might have said yes. Before Nicole I would have said yes to a hell of a lot more than a drink. Since I had tasted that sassy woman, it wasn’t going to happen. There’s only one woman and one pastime on my mind. It’s not any of the bitches at Pussy’s, and it’s not drinking.
“Nah man, I got plans.”
“Crush mentioned some chick. We going to be seeing her at the club soon?” He asks as we reach our bikes.
“I’m thinking affirmative on that brother,” I answer, straddling my ride.
“Good stuff. Club needs fresh blood.”
“No brother. This one is off fucking limits,” Gunner was a damn good looking man, all Californian, easy going, blonde hair and blue eyes. Fuck no, he wasn’t getting around my woman, until I had her locked up tight. When I realize what I’m thinking, my fucking hands shake.
7
Nicole
I never claimed to be the sharpest tool in the shed. I had spent the last day and a half berating myself for everything I had allowed to happen with Dragon. Different thoughts ran through my mind. I could tuck tail and run back to Blade. I could quit and find a different job. I could pretend whatever happened between me and Dragon (and yes, I was leaning towards this one) never happened.
Except it did, we got laid. We got fucked and we want it again. This comes from Bad Nicole. I really hate her these days. She’s a mean, spiteful bitch and a whore, and her voice in my head is annoying. But, sadly, she’s also not wrong. I have never felt like that before. Drago
n touched and awoke spots in me I never even knew existed. A girl could get addicted to the feelings he brings out in her.
So instead of sleeping at 11:58 p.m. on a Tuesday night, I’m sitting on the couch watching an October Scream and Scare Marathon on TV. I’m currently on Halloween… who the hell knows what version or number? I’m curled up on the couch in my fuzzy red pajama pants with hot pink hearts all over them, a white baby doll t-shirt and big pink fuzzy socks. My hair is pulled up on top of my head in a ponytail-bun-gone-wrong combination, and I just polished off a pint of chunky monkey ice cream. I might be in the midst of a depression. Dani is out withsome boy toy and the house is too damn quiet. So ice cream seemed like the only solution. I miss Dragon.
There I said it. I kind of expected him to stop me from leaving the bar. I was disappointed when he didn’t. I was okay though, totally fine. Then, time kept passing and I haven’t heard one word from him. Seems that should clue me in. I am definitely the whore I originally pegged myself as, and Dragon got what he wanted. He’s done with me now, and moved on. He’s probably sunk deep inside some cupcake now.
I refuse to call them Twinkies. I happen to like Twinkies and knowing Dragon called his whores that would ruin Twinkies for me. Of course as I think this, I am studiously avoiding the view of my kitchen table. I might have accidentally poured out the contents of a Twinkie box, and I might have accidentally flattened them with the bottom of my umm… third, or fourth glass of raspberry vodka and sprite. I could probably use another glass, but the cream all over the glass from the exploded, plastic-wrapped, goodies annoys me. So, I don’t. Instead, I lie here watching some bubble-headed ho-bag get chopped up on the TV screen. Seriously, does it always have to be the blondes and why on earth are they always half dressed? I pull the warm throw down off the back of the couch and snuggle up. When Dani and I first got here the weather was
sunny and warm and in the high seventies. Now, it’s dreary, rainy, and cold and I think the TV said it was like forty-two degrees outside. I figure that is somehow Dragon’s fault too, I just don’t know how to blame him yet. I should go to bed and sleep, but I tend to think more of Dragon there, so I refuse to.
I must have dozed off. I’m not sure for how long, but Michael Myers has been replaced by a killer dog, so lovely. I blink my eyes a few times trying to focus, when the banging on the front door begins. That must have been what woke me. I get up stretching and yawning, thinking that if Dani is going to try and beat me for slut of the week, the least the bitch could do was remember her keys. I cup my hand over my mouth yawning so big, tears leak from the sides of my eyes. I unlatch the door and freeze. Dani isn’t there. No, staring at me through the screen security door is Dragon in all his glory.
He looks good tonight. A woman couldn’t deny that. He’s wearing a dark green t-shirt that’s stretched over his biceps and his wide chest. It pops against his dark skin and I wish I could tear the shirt off and see more of what is underneath. I stare at him, not sure what to say and immediately get sucked into his dark, chocolate eyes.
“What the fuck?” He barks.
Well hello to you, too. I think it, but I don’t open my mouth. Maybe I short-circuited. I truly don’t know what to say to him. He could be every woman’s dream until he opens his mouth.
“What the fuck Nicole?” he barks again. If his voice wasn’t so deep and raspy it would be annoying as hell about now.
I yawn again and I’m too brain dead to remember to cover
my mouth this time, so I guess Dragon can see down to my tonsils. I shake my head trying to clear the sleep from it.
“What time is it?” There, a complete sentence, I’m getting better.
Give the girl a cookie. Bad Nicole needs to shut up.
“Do I look like a fucking Timex? Open the door.” Dragon...well yeah, he barks yet again.
“You come to my house at this time of night, so I figure you at least know the time. I’m too tired for this. I’m going back to bed, adios Dragon.”
“Unlock this damn screen door Nicole, I’m tired.”
I stop the main door from closing and study him for a minute. There are times to fight and times to let it lie. I’m thinking right now I should go for the latter. I’ve missed him. I had sex with him. He was here. I unlatch the door and turn around, heading back into the living room and my comfy bed on the couch. I plop down on the couch pulling the afghan up around me, bringing my knees up against my chest and wait. I hear the door close and the sound of the lock turning. It should make me nervous but it doesn’t. I should question everything I do around Dragon but I don’t. This is not normal.
“We shouldn’t have had sex,” I blurt out, watching as he walks to me. He stops in front of me and crosses his arms. I bite my lip wondering what will happen next. I don’t think I can have sex with him again. I want to, God, do I want to. Still, I need to jump back into reality, where you don’t just jump into bed with a man that you don’t know. Doing that leads to madness and venereal diseases. Oh God, I needed to make an appointment at the free clinic tomorrow.
“What the fuck are you doing opening the door this late at night?” Dragon asks, still looking at me.
Okay... well, alright... not what I expected.
“I thought you were Dani,” I answer, trying to avoid looking at him directly. Whenever I did that, it seems my brain short circuits.
“You don’t open the door without knowing who the hell is out there Nicole.”
“How do you know my name is Nicole?” I ask, ignoring him and changing the subject.
“You’re just now asking this? After what has gone down between us, not to mention the back and forth dance we’ve been doing?” he asks. He is looking at me like I am crazy—which maybe I am, at least when I am around him. Then, he takes a deep breath and sits down beside me, turning so we are facing each other.
I shrug.
“Your girl used your name,” he says, evidently giving up on my safety lesson.
“No she didn’t. She called me Nic. You just assumed it was Nicole,” I argued.
He took another weary breath. I didn’t think it was because he was having trouble breathing. I pretty much understood it was to show I was being an idiot. I guess I am. I don’t really care though.
“What else would your name have been?”
“Nikita, Nikki, Nickel, Nicorette....” I ramble.
“Nicorette, like the fucking smoking gum?” he asks, incredulously.
“Technically I think it’s to stop you from smoking.”
“Are we really having this discussion right now, Mama? I’m beat.”
“Umm... then, why are you here?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he counters, and damn that is kind of a good question.
“We can’t have sex again.”
He nods his head, “Oh yeah, we can.”
“We can’t. We don’t know each other. I know what you think I am Dragon, but seriously, I’m not. I don’t do things like we did. So, we can’t do it again.”
“What are you?” he asks quietly, sounding tired.
“I’m not a woman who casually has sex, a good time girl!”
“Jesus, a good time girl?” He shakes his head, “Mama you might be the strangest woman I have ever met.”
“Probably,” I mumble.
“You’ve had sex before,” Dragon says, as his hand moves up to my face to push some of my bangs away from my eyes.
His touch feels nice. I like the way his callused finger tickles the skin under my eye. Was it my imagination or did he seem disappointed I’ve had sex before?
“Of course, but I knew them really well. I’d even dated them for a while. I know nothing about you. We’ve yet to go out on a first date!”
Dragon’s fingers were caressing my neck, but by the time I’d stopped talking, his fingers had stopped moving.
Damn it.
“I don’t date Nicole.”
“You don’t what?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“I don�
��t date.”
“Dragon, everyone dates.”
“I don’t.”
I don’t really know how to respond. It seems unreal, but I can tell he is completely serious.
“Like ever?”
“That’s what I said, Mama.”
“How can you tell if you like a girl if you don’t even know her?” I ask and something about this conversation hurts me.
“I fuck her.”
Oh. My. God!
“You... I don’t even know what to say to that.”
Dragon seems to get agitated. His face goes from being somewhat soft (though I’m not sure it could ever go completely soft, he was too harsh), to being tight. There is also a vein popping along the side of his neck.
“Nothing to say, Mama. It’s just the truth.”
“That’s unreal.”
“I’m not shiny and new Nicole. I’ve fucking been around the block. I’ve got scratches, dents and a lot of fucking miles. I’m a classic and not just anyone can handle me. I’m not about to make apologies for that shit. I am what I am.”
“A classic?”
“Only ride worth a damn is one that’s been around awhile and knows the curves in the road.”
“Been around awhile? I can see that. That must be why there’s so much rust. God, I can’t believe you. You’re such an ass.”
“Whatever woman, I’m tired. Let’s get in bed.”
“Um, this is my house,” I said. Dragon stands up and without even asking, yanks my afghan
away. “Hey stop that! I’m cold!” I complain reaching for it, but he throws it on the chair across from us before I can.
