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Little Memphis

Page 3

by Bijou Hunter


  The club owes its loyalty to Trigger, but he’s making it damn hard. One trip to breakfast by the old man and Little Memphis knows we’re down a badass. Now, the town can show us how they feel about this new reality.

  7

  Shay

  Let Them Drool

  Darby takes me to a Wal-Mart where I buy clothes and hygiene products. I also pick up snacks, but I’m careful not to spend too much on Darby’s dime.

  My first night in the house is weird and I don’t know what to do with myself. My bedroom has no TV and Darby is reading in the living room. Restless, I sit on the back porch and miss my brothers. I’m still thinking about them later as I fall asleep in a strange bed in a strange town.

  The next day is better. Lucky shows up around noon to take me to a job interview. I don’t have anything appropriate to wear, but the interview is a formality. I’m now the evening front desk clerk at The Oregon Inn. The three-story hotel reminds me of Darby’s old world glamour and I feel special to be working here.

  “The place is just off the highway,” Lucky says as we stand outside, watching cars speed by. “Lots of travelers. Business types. Should be safe for you even at night. The place falls in club territory. Meaning if anyone hassles you, they’re hassling me. Get it?”

  “Thanks. You didn’t have to do all this.”

  Lucky scratches at the back of his neck. “I didn’t want you ending up at Mickey D’s or stripping again.”

  “I don’t know how I’ll repay you.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says, lighting a cigarette. “I saw you needing a hand and figured I could help. I’ve done shitty things in my life. Maybe doing a few good ones will even out my ledger, you know?”

  Nodding, I’m not used to people helping me. My grandparents are the only ones I depended on, but they passed away years ago. With Lucky, I worry he’ll expect a payment I won’t like.

  “You wanna do something for me?” he asks when we get back to Darby’s house.

  “Sure,” I mumble, waiting for the payment.

  “My club hangs at a place called Suede. Why don’t you come by tonight and let the boys drool over you?”

  I wonder if drool is club code for something. Lucky probably senses where my mind went.

  “We got some single guys in the club. If you’re interested, it wouldn’t be the worst thing for you to date one. If you think they’re fools, I’ll understand. I think the same thing most days.”

  When I share Lucky’s smile, he continues, “Look, they’re curious about you. I brought you to Little Memphis and didn’t claim you. That seems weird to them, so they want to check you out. Don’t let their size and scariness fool you, Shay. These guys are gossipy bitches.”

  “I don’t have to do anything with them, do I?”

  “Don’t have to say a single word. You can tell them to fuck off for all I care.”

  “Should I wear anything particular?”

  “Shay, it’s a bar full of rough guys like me. Your trucker look is fine.”

  Taking him at his word, I wear jeans, a white tee, a blue and white flannel shirt, and the cheapest tennis shoes I could find in my size at Wal-Mart. Oh, and a Duck Dynasty trucker hat over my dark blonde hair. I’m the least sexy chick in the joint, just the way I want it.

  Lucky knows everyone in Suede. I follow him around as he says hello and occasionally introduces me to people. Bad with names, I forget them immediately. Overhead, Elvis sings while the bar’s décor is Hawaiian-themed. A large flashing Budweiser sign is surrounded by little hula girls at the back of the bar. I watch the dolls sway and wonder what the hell I’m doing in this place.

  Lucky moves around the bar until I’m finally ditched at a booth with two guys, a bottle of whiskey, and three shot glasses. Everyone’s names are mixed in my head including the guys I’m sitting with. I do know they’re hot. They both have thick hair and beards. One is blond, the other dark haired. I watch them down shots of whiskey then a second round. I sip my shot while they bang back another.

  Flustered by their good looks, I’m glad I look like crap. If they show me any interest, I doubt I’ll be able to say no. That impulsive part of me is already grading them and imagining kissing each guy. I’m wondering who I’ll choose when I mentally slap myself. Hot dangerous men are the scourge for chicks like me.

  “How old are you?” the blond one asks.

  I down half of my whiskey shot then lick my lips. The liquor burns my throat and deep into my stomach. It also gives me a little courage.

  “I can’t remember your names.”

  They glance at each other and grin. When they look back at me, the blond one points at the other guy.

  “He’s Ford. I’m Pax. We’re brothers, so don’t get any ideas about sharing. We’re strongly against incest.”

  “It’s one of the few things we’re strongly against,” Ford says, downing another shot before filling his glass again. “Are you old enough to get liquored up? Should I play the responsible adult and take away your drink?”

  I down the last of the whiskey and hand Ford the shot glass. “I’m twenty five and three quarters.”

  They laugh at the three quarters part. Ford fills my glass and hands it back.

  “No way are you twenty five.”

  “I’m almost twenty one.”

  Ford studies my face, causing my heart to race. Heat flushes across my chest, rising in my gut before settling between my legs. Despite my plan to play cool, I’m already suffering from a serious case of lust. I plan to blame the whiskey.

  “You look like a little girl,” Pax says, glancing around the bar. “Are you Lucky’s out-of-town bastard? Is that why he plays protective daddy with you?”

  “I don’t know my dad, but Mom said he had giant ears. Lucky’s ears are pretty normal.”

  Pax rests his head on the table and laughs. I don’t know if he’s laughing at me or with me. He’s probably just drunk. Narrowing his eyes, Ford leans closer. He pulls off my hat and touches my chin. Turning my head back and forth, he studies me.

  “Your ears are normal too,” he says, handing me back the hat. “Maybe that ear thing was a lie.”

  “Why would she lie about that?” I ask, laughing from my whiskey buzz.

  “Women lie about all sorts of things. Some even lie about little things just to keep their skills honed for the big lies.”

  Smiling at him, I instantly know I’ve made a mistake. My whole demeanor is too welcoming. Hell, I might as well flash red meat in front of a predator.

  Ford holds my gaze and I can’t look away. His eyes are a dark blue, not brown like I first thought in the dim lighting. With them focused on me, I see nothing else. His expression is inviting, revealing none of the poonhound asshole I know he must be. Lucky warned me about these guys, but I still want to move closer to him.

  “Rumor has it you’re working at the Oregon.”

  I only nod and sip my whiskey. As my gaze remains on him, my fingers get curious. I struggle to keep them from reaching for his face

  “Most nights, I drive past the hotel and now you work there. Hmm…I should stop by and test the mattresses.”

  At some point, I decide to reach for his face. My hand is halfway to its destination before Ford’s words slap me awake.

  “No.”

  Ford gives me a casual smile and takes my hand. He studies the palm for a moment then places it against his bearded cheek

  “Is this what you were looking for?”

  “No,” I mumble, unable to form a more profound word.

  Keeping my hand against his face, Ford stares into my eyes. I think he’s trying to hypnotize me. To my horror, it’s working too.

  Suddenly, I remember Pax sitting with us. Not only him, but I’m aware of the other people in the bar. Feeling exposed, I pull my hand away then lean back and look around.

  “Playing it cool,” Pax says to Ford who grins.

  “A girl can’t give it away too easy. Wouldn’t be classy.”

&n
bsp; I want to say something to set the record straight. Yes, Ford is hot. Since his little hypnotizing trick, he’s the hottest man on earth. Even so, I have no interest in giving anything away, let alone what they’re hinting.

  I might come up with a really confident way of making myself clear, but I never find out. The men’s gazes leave me and focus on someone at the door. In that moment, I’m invisible.

  Ford is beautiful and I still feel the warmth of him on my fingertips. Now though, he’s a predator facing his prey. The men at the door are rough looking, but so are most of the guys in the place.

  “Go to the restroom,” Ford says, without even glancing at me. “Don’t come out until Lucky sends for you.”

  I should ask questions. Demand them really. Except I’m out of my league. Even hating to feel like a kid, I slide out of the booth and never look back. With all of the bar’s predators on alert, my gut warns me to avoid making eye contact as I hurry to the restroom.

  A few women enter the restroom before a waitress shows up and locks the door. They ignore me while playing on their phones. I think to ask what the hell is happening, but keep my mouth shut.

  The whiskey did a number on me, so I sit on the toilet for a long time. I don’t vomit, but rest my head against the wall and think about my new life.

  Hearing loud noises coming from outside the restroom, I close my eyes and imagine my new bed. Darby’s house isn’t my home yet, but it’s a sanctuary compared to hiding in the toilet stall. I crave my little flowered room so badly that I nearly cry.

  Eventually, the waitress unlocks the door and leaves. While the other girls leave too, I wash my hands and wait for Lucky. He finally arrives and waves for me to follow him. We walk past a relaxed bar and I spot no sign of trouble. Most of the men are gone including Ford and Pax.

  Once outside, Lucky walks to his Harley and climbs on. I join him, still feeling nauseous from the booze. I’m tired and homesick too. Lucky doesn’t say a word the entire ride to Darby’s house. Only when I climb off and prepare to go inside, does he open his mouth.

  “I’d have thought you’d dig Pax,” he says before giving me a wink and riding away.

  8

  Ford

  Lust at First Sight

  I don’t believe in love at first sight. People who claim it happens to them are full of shit. They only want to believe what they feel is love. As if the lie makes them special. Losers always need a reason to feel important.

  Lust at first sight does happen. Years ago, I saw a chick with tits I instantly feel deeply in erection with. While I can’t remember the rest of her, I think her name started with a D.

  What I feel with Shay is something different. More like an incorrigible need at first sight. Even when she first arrives and is following Lucky around, I can’t take my eyes off her. I’m restless until she’s at our booth. Even before she joins us, I call dibs and Pax flips me off. He follows the code though and behaves around her.

  Even saying very little, Shay tells me a lot about her. I know she’s poor because her manicure looks self-done and her tan is uneven. She’s unprepared for how little liquor she needs to get wasted, so she’s not much of a drinker. She wasn’t roughed up too much as a kid because she didn’t get twitchy when violence was about to break out. She lacks confidence though. By the time Pax and I drag the assholes outside, Maggie leaves the restroom. The other girls appear too. Not Shay. She hides away until Lucky finds her.

  Despite her obedient nature, she tells me no. When I make it clear I want into her pants, she slams the door shut. Well, in her head she did. What I hear is a starter pistol going off.

  My mind is still on Shay when I stand over Fudge Stiller. The guy ran drugs on the outer edges of Little Memphis. While he never handed any love to the club, he never caused trouble before.

  Today, Fudge woke up, looked at his stupid friends, Teddy D and Teddy K, and decided they’d lived long enough. Or maybe they really thought they could walk into Suede and make demands. Who the hell knows what a guy named Fudge thinks about on an average day?

  “I guess our territory just got bigger,” Joker says, giving me a grin.

  He climbs on his bike and rides home to the wife and kids. Other guys do the same. Trigger’s boys hurry home to tell daddy they got to watch blood flow. I wonder if a day will come when they’ll be ready to lead not only the club, but guys like me and Pax.

  Tonight, my brother and I have dirty work ahead of us. The quarry is filled with dozens of years’ worth of losers the club needed gone. Piles of bones were here when I joined the club and many more will join this final resting place after I’m dead or in jail.

  “She’s cute,” Pax says, jumping into the bulldozer. “You’ll fuck her to death. Won’t be pretty.”

  I smile at him. “You’re such a petty shit. How’s your dick, by the way? You walk like maybe the zombie bitch ripped a chunk out of it.”

  “No, she mostly gnawed on it.”

  We’re laughing as the bulldozer roars to life. Pax digs a hole and strikes an old dumping site. I wonder what the fools did to end up dead. Of course, with Trigger, their crimes might be anything.

  Little Memphis has always been a wild place with people fighting over territory. When the old man arrived, he killed his way to the top and the club still kills to stay on the top. Today is no different except the old man isn’t the one pulling the triggers anymore.

  “If my dick didn’t feel like a chew toy,” Pax says after the bodies are dealt with and we sit looking at the stars, “I’d say we outta stop at Bossa Nova Baby and see if any of the girls want to play.”

  “You shouldn’t be fucking anyone until you know if you’re infected by a zombie virus. Shit, man, you’ve seen enough horror movies to know that.”

  Pax grins. “I’m getting too old for these wild girls.”

  “Yeah.”

  My mind returns to Shay and her hand on my cheek. I think about her gray eyes shining in the light of the bar. Some girls like Maggie can’t find anyone to give them two minutes of real thought. Others like Shay get under a guy’s skin. Who knows why? Maggie is a cute chick, but her personality makes it impossible to like her with the lights on and her mouth flapping. On the other hand, I want to hear Shay’s voice again and I will too. The starter’s pistol is still going off in my head.

  9

  Shay

  Let Me Tell You a Story

  Every morning, Darby eats breakfast while overlooking the serene yard. After a long night replaying my time with Ford, I bring a cup of coffee and over buttered English muffin to the sunroom. I’m dying to ask her questions about Ford, but fear the answers.

  “I met a bunch of people last night,” I say casually.

  Darby looks up from the paper and lifts a brow. “Who do you want to know more about?”

  I shrug, but she only grins. “Is it one of Trigger’s boys? They’re sexy, but rough. Or so I’ve heard.”

  “Did you like being married to Joker?”

  “Yeah, he was my first love. I had big plans about our life,” she says, sipping her coffee. “Fate doesn’t care about our plans. Now Joker’s married to Amanda. Life moves on.”

  “Do you miss him?”

  “No. I see him a few times a week and he’s not the spring chicken I married. I think I got out when the getting was good. Besides, I kept the house.”

  Darby winks at me, but I can’t be sure how much she’s serious about and what’s hot air.

  “Now you tell me which boy you’re interested in, so I can throw cold water on your hopes and dreams. It’s sort of my thing.”

  We share a smile then I fess up. “I know it’s stupid, but his name is Ford.”

  Darby gives me a look that makes me feel tiny and stupid. Then she laughs. Even wanting to crawl in a corner and cry, I only drink my coffee.

  “Did you have a lot of boyfriends back in Georgia?” she asks after her laughter dies out.

  “Some, yeah.”

  “Any of them worth mentio
ning?”

  I shake my head. “My family has a reputation about us girls being easy, so only certain guys were interested in me. It only got worse when I started working at the club.”

  “So were they boyfriends or dates that ended in fucking?”

  “The second one.”

  “Well, we’ve all been there. My sister got a bad rep early on. Truth be told she was a slutbag for a while. It’s like she got addicted to orgasms and couldn’t get enough. She’d do anyone anytime. Pretty gross. I think it was because she was too damn young when she first fucked. Later, she settled down and wanted a real boyfriend, but everyone wanted Good Time Madison. She ended up moving and starting over.”

  “I never really enjoyed sex,” I admit. “I tried having fun, but the guys were all pushy and I never got anything out of it.”

  “Nothing to get addicted over, huh?” she says, smirking. “You’ll have a good time with Ford. The fucking will be fun anyway. Don’t expect anything more from him. I doubt he’s capable of loving anyone besides his brother.”

  “I’m not sure I could handle love anyway. I think a decent fuck would be a nice start,” I say, feeling Ford on my fingertips again.

  “If you want to hook up with him, all you’ll have to do is ask. He’s a bigger slutbag than my sister was.”

  I smile. “Maybe after I get settled in. I’m starting work tonight. That should be my focus.”

  “Should be, but won’t be,” Darby says, finishing her coffee. “Men are like that. They get under your skin and crawl around in there until you find a cure. Time might kill the feelings. Getting your heart broken is the fastest cure, but who the hell wants to sign up for that?”

  I watch Darby walk to the coffee maker and fill herself another cup. She’s comfortable in her skin like I’m not. I bet a lot of people talk shit about her behind her back. Maybe to her face too. She isn’t like anyone else and doesn’t care. Meanwhile, I hide under my trucker hat and hope no one gets too close.

  I’m still feeling edgy when I start my new job. Wearing clothes I borrow from Darby, I fake the role of happy hotel clerk. After a few days at the Oregon, I’m not playing anymore.

 

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