Fuck, they acted like I'm an old man. Hell, I'm only forty-one. It wasn't like I'm about to kick the damn bucket anytime soon, well at least I hoped not. But I humored the women in my life. I knew how they had been struggling and stressing over all the bullshit that has been going on with Devil lately. So if this little kick they are on about my health gives them the feeling of some form of control over something in their lives, I will deal with the hassle of it all with a damn smile on my face.
Secretly though, I enjoyed the fussing they did over me. It just proved that my women still cared as deeply for me as I did for them. I was actually glad I quit smoking, I could breathe a lot better now, and I didn't get as out of breath when I worked out, which was something I have always tried to stay on top of.
As I entered the store, I noticed the young girl behind the counter watched me closely. Hell, she looked to be about sixteen. It sure wasn't that safe an area for someone her age to be in alone at night. I nodded toward her as I made my way toward the back of the store. I know I probably make a lot of people nervous, especially a girl working alone at night in a rinky dink little store in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. She's probably about to piss her pants, I think as I watched her follow my every step in the mirror that was hanging above the hallway that leads to the bathrooms.
I'm not a little man by any means. I'm 6'4” and weigh about 230 pounds. I have tats that run up my neck and down both arms all the way onto my fingers. And according to my Old Ladies, my chest was massive and tapered down to a lean waist, yeah what the fuck ever. Apparently, I have something called a resting bitch face, at least per what my Old Ladies said, and supposedly all that combined with my tats and size makes me as intimidating as fuck. I just know I'm big and that people tend to get out of my way when I am out and about, which was how I liked it.
I had growled when they told me about the bitch face thing, and they giggled at me, fucking giggled, so they humored me and asked if a resting bastard face was any better. I muttered, 'comedians, I'm surrounded by fucking comedians,' to which the giggles had continued. Fuck, if it made them giggle or laugh, I'd probably run around the yard buck naked. It seems like lately they haven't laughed enough. And that was something I loved hearing, two happy content women laughing in pure enjoyment.
After doing my business, I opened the door and headed back down the hallway and heard a man's voice scream out, “Bitch, you ain't leaving me.”
I took a quiet step forward in order to be able to see if the girl was still standing behind the cash register. I saw a burly man leaning over the counter and holding the girl by her arm. She was crying quietly and saying, “Don't hurt me, Doug. Please, don't hurt me. I'm sorry.”
The prick said, “I'll teach you to fucking think you can leave me.”
He then backhanded the girl hard across the face. The force of the hit caused her head to swing to the side and she started crying harder. As she glanced back around to the asswipe, her eyes caught mine. I held my figure over my lips and shook my head.
She caught on damn quick and looked back to the monster who had hit her.
I crouched down and walked down several aisles until I was standing in the one that ran straight up to the register. The dickwad never even noticed me. Dumb fuck. Didn't he see my truck outside?
She started talking to the Doug creature, trying to hold his attention.
“I'm sorry, Doug, I don't know what I was thinking. I won't leave. Please don't hit me again.”
As she continued to mutter inane things to the guy, I quietly creeped down the aisle, keeping low in hopes he wouldn't see me too soon.
“You got that right, bitch. You weren't thinking. Your sorry ass isn't leaving me and I'll hit you any damn time I please.”
As he uttered those words, I stood up straight, took one step forward and wrapped my right arm around his neck and started choking him.
“Let go of the girl's arm right now, you bastard,” I uttered.
He let go of the girl's arm and reached up with both of his hands and tried frantically to pull my arm from around his neck. Wasn't happening. He then dropped his arms and elbowed me in the gut with his right arm. Expecting something like this, I had tightened the muscles in my abdomen, which had the hit more or less bouncing off my abs. I shoved him from me hard and stepped back. He turned around, his eyes wild, obviously high on something, and started coming at me swinging.
That was his second mistake. His first was not running when he had the chance. I haven't lost a fight in years; it didn't matter the guy's size. Besides being high, this guy was dumb as fuck. I dodged his wild swing toward my face and came up with a right cross. As his face was swinging toward the left, I followed up with a left hook to his jaw and immediately after that, a right jab to his nose. I heard bones crunch and saw blood start spewing everywhere. I broke the motherfucker's nose. Fuck, yes.
As the dumbass is propelled backwards from the solid hit dead on into his face, I followed that up with a left uppercut to his ribs. He was groaning from pain and blood was pouring out of his nose; I doubt he even remembered his name at this moment. He was gasping for air as his body unconsciously started bending forward from the hit, then I finished him off with a right hook to the temple. His eyes rolled back into his head and he dropped like a ton of bricks. His head bounced off the concrete floor a couple times before coming to a rest.
“Holy shit,” the girl exclaimed. “Holy. Fucking. Shit. Can you like pick him up and, umm, like beat the hell out of him again and then do it one more time after that?”
“Deserved it, does he?”
“Mister, you don't know the half of it,” she replied.
After making sure the dickwad was still out, I looked over at the girl. Despite the fact her cheek was starting to swell up and half her face was red with a huge hand print on it, she had the biggest damn smile on her face that I have ever seen on anyone before in my life. It's like I had given her the very best present in the whole damn world.
Looking at this young girl was like looking into the face of my daughter. And as I looked at the dickwad lying on the floor, I would have gladly done what she asked if the motherfucker wasn't completely out of it.
She was a cute kid. Long auburn hair that was down to her ass, delicate looking pale skin, eyes as blue as a cloudless sky, a sharp little nose and a red rosebud mouth. She had a tight little body, with curves in all the right places. I could see how she would attract the attention of any man.
It wouldn't have mattered if I was a single man, she was just too damn young for me. Many men my age wouldn't have a problem having her on the back of their bikes. But not me, besides the fact that I am a very happy man in my relationship with my women, I liked a mature woman and this young girl still had a lot of growing up to do.
“I'll be right back. I'm gonna go grab some zip ties from my Blazer,” I told her.
She didn't even look up at me, she just nodded her head, still staring down at the douchebag on the floor.
After grabbing the zip ties, I locked my Blazer back up and made my way into the store. When I walked back in, she hadn't moved from that spot. She was still just staring at the man with a mixture of hate and rage on her face. I could tell she wanted to walk over and kick the shit out of him, and looking at her face, I couldn't blame her one damn bit. No man should ever hit a woman. It would have to be a real extreme situation to where I would ever consider that as an option, real extreme. I have raised my boys with my views on this subject, and on how a woman should be treated.
Besides just telling them, I try to show them that as well, by how I treated their moms and their sister. I'm not just talking the talk; I'm walking the walk. I wanted my sons to respect women, protect women, cherish them and love them. To know that women are more than a piece of ass. I fucking hated men who treated women like that. It pissed me off to no end, and I am surrounded daily with a fucking Clubhouse full of the motherfuckers.
I also want them to know that women are damn strong and resil
ient too. That while it was okay to love, protect, and cherish a woman, and that there was a time for her to be behind you when you're protecting her, otherwise then, a woman should be by your side the rest of the time. Her thoughts and considerations should always be taken into account, always. Unless it was club business, and sometimes even that was obscure.
After I zip tied the scumbucket’s hands and feet, I stepped back and pondered on what the fuck I was gonna do with him. I couldn't just walk away and leave her here with him. I knew what would happen once he came to his senses. He'd beat the shit out of the girl. Maybe if his arm or leg was broken. Hmmm...
I turned to look towards the girl to ask her opinion on what she wanted done with him and saw that she was now looking at me wide-eyed.
“Mister, no one in my life has ever stood up for me like that. No one.”
Well, fuck. That made my heart hurt a little. How was that possible? Didn't she have anyone?
“You don't have a family?”
“No sir. I was a foster kid. Aged out this year and just couldn't stand staying in the system any longer. Couldn't handle all the damn rules that go along with their 'help' in trying to teach me a skill so I could ‘flourish’, as they said, out here in the real world.”
I nodded. I could understand that. Cotton and BamBam, two of the Brothers who patched in with Hatchet about four years ago, had been raised in foster care. And while they said it hadn't been horrible, it hadn't been a cake walk either. And by the time they hit eighteen, they just wanted to be done with the system and be out on their own.
“So, you don't have any friends that can help you out? No one?” I quizzed her.
She shook her head and stated, “No sir. I had to live in a shelter for a couple months, then I met Doug and moved in with him. That was one of the dumbest decisions of my life. I should have stayed in the shelter.”
I looked at this young girl and thought of my daughter not having anyone to help her out, and it broke something inside me. It would kill me if Jemma didn't have anyone she could go to for anything she needed. Yet here this kid was all alone, without anyone, trying to make it all by herself. Fuck, I needed to do something about that.
“How old are you, kid?” I asked.
She looked at me for a long moment and took a deep breath, nodded her head, almost like she's having an internal conversation and by having nodded her head, had come to a decision.
“I'm eighteen, sir.”
“What's your name?”
“Brenna Jamison, sir.”
“Fuck, quit calling me sir. Makes me feel damned old,” I barked out.
“Yes sir…umm...okay sir...I mean...err... okay.” She stammered out. “I'm sorry, sir...err...I'm sorry. I was made to always say sir and ma'am to adults.”
“Made to say it?”
“Umm, yes s...err... yes. At the group home I lived in, if any of the kids didn't say yes sir, no sir, yes ma'am, no ma'am, well, we were punished.”
I shook my head at hearing this. We taught our kids manners, but this girl looked like she expected to be beaten at not calling me sir. That pissed me off.
“So, your name?”
“It's Brenna,” she told me again.
“Well, Brenna. Just call me Viper.”
“Umm... Viper?”
“Viper,” I nodded.
“Okay.”
“Brenna, I'm trying to decide what to do with shit for brains over there.”
She giggled.
“Got any ideas? You want me to leave him here like this and you call the cops?”
Before I could even finish the sentence, she was shaking her head adamantly no.
“No, no cops. His uncle is one and instead of him getting into trouble, I would be the one in trouble.”
Well, hell. Now I am even more worried about this kid.
“Hmmm... well, I can't just leave him tied up like this. And I'm pretty sure you don't want me to leave him here with you.”
Once again, she was shaking her head vigorously in a negative motion. The only thing I could think of was to take him somewhere and dump him. But I couldn't realistically do that since his car was here, unless I took his car somewhere too. And the more I did with him, the greater the chances were that something could go wrong, and I would get caught with him.
“This store have surveillance cameras?”
“No sir...I... I mean no.”
“Well that's one good thing going for us.”
I stood there looking around the store, trying to decide if I am really about to suggest what was rolling around in my thoughts. But this girl was pulling hard at something deep in my soul. It was like something in me recognized her and was telling me she was mine. And I just couldn't ignore the feeling. I felt like there was no way that I could just casually walk away from her as if she didn't matter. Even letting that thought cross my mind had everything in me rebelling.
“Brenna, since you don't have anyone at all to help you, I'm worried if you stayed here, he'd just find you real soon and beat the shit out of you. And, you would still be in the same boat that you are currently in.”
She looked defeated.
Hell. Why the fuck am I feeling like this? I didn't know this girl. Yet, there was no way in hell I could walk away from her.
“So, you were trying to leave his sorry ass. Do you even want to stay in this town?”
“No, I would give anything if I could get away. But I don't have any money, he takes it all as soon as I'm paid. I had planned on going back to the shelter tonight to see if they would let me stay there.”
I frowned at that; I so wish the motherfucker would wake up so I can beat the shit out of him again.
“Do you have a lot of stuff, Brenna?”
“Umm... no. Why?”
I took a deep breath and let out a sigh. I was about to suggest something that was totally insane considering all the things I have going on in my life at the moment. But there was no way I could possibly leave this girl here. Her life would be hell if I did, and she would probably end up dead sooner or later. Besides all that, if my Old Ladies knew of this girl's plight, they would kick my ass if I left her here.
Yep. I'm pussy whipped, no two fucking ways about it. But I don't fucking care. I liked their pussies just fine.
Fuck, Viper. Don't start thinking about that kind of shit, getting a hard on will terrify that little girl and pretty sure she wouldn't believe that you were just thinking about your women, I think to myself.
Pulling my thoughts back to the present, I decided to just go for it. There was no easy way to go about this. She was either going to believe me or not, and she was either going to let me help her or not.
“Brenna girl, I want you to listen to me and think about what I'm about to tell you, then about what I'm about to ask you. Okay? Then I want you to think hard about it and make a decision on my question.” I told her.
She nodded her head in the affirmative.
“Okay, Viper.”
“Do you care if I come stand closer to you?” I asked her. I didn't need her to become scared of me. She was already skittish as it was.
“I'm not going to harm you or touch you. I just want to show you some pictures. I know you might think that me wanting to show you some pictures is weird. Just humor me, okay?”
“Okay.”
I moved over to her slowly, I didn't want to startle her. I could tell she was a nervous wreck. I took out my billfold and pulled out the plastic photo sleeve that held the pictures of my kids.
“Brenna, see this girl in the picture?”
“Yeah.”
“This is my fifteen-year-old daughter, Jemma.”
I turned to another picture.
“And this picture is of my younger sons Jace, Colton and Caleb.”
I pointed at each boy as I said their names.
“Jace is twenty, Colton is nineteen, Caleb is sixteen.”
I flipped to another picture.
“And these are my oldest sons, R
eb and Pred, they are twenty-three,” I said as I pointed to each of the boys.
“Twins?” she asked me.
“No, not twins.”
“Oh.” That oh was loaded with a lot of questions in it. “Umm so, they are both yours?” she asked.
“Yeah, they are.”
“Okay, so...”
I could tell she was curious about the boys, because it was apparent that three of my kids looked alike and that another two looked alike, and while all six favored one or more of the others, the picture of Reb and Pred showed clearly that Reb didn't look like Pred at all.
I laughed.
“Got you a little puzzled?”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“Okay so, Pred, Jace and Jemma, I had with my wife Mia, and Colton and Caleb, I had with Jennie. Jennie is also Reb's mom and technically, Reb isn't even my stepson, but I don't care what anyone says, he's still my son.”
I could tell she was still a little puzzled, so I continued with my explanation, “I don't have time for the full story, but I'm a biker and bikers have Old Ladies. I'm married to Mia and she is my Old Lady, that being said, because of something that happened in our past, Mia asked me to make Jennie my Old Lady as well. So, I did. So therefore, Mia and Jennie are both my Old Ladies and I have kids with both of them.”
“Wow,” she murmured. “So, you have like two wives and like six kids?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Do the two women and their kids live in different houses?”
“No, we all live together. They are all my family and mine to take care of.”
She looked down at the floor and her shoulders seemed to be shaking a little.
“Wow,” she said again, then she broke my heart with the words she uttered next. “I only had a mom and dad, and neither wanted me. She threw me away like I was trash. She didn't even try to leave me anywhere safe. She just threw me into a dumpster.”
Viper (Angel’s Rebellion MC: #1) (Angel's Rebellion MC) Page 6
