Six pairs of eyes locked to my face, and only then did they realize that my face and right eye was swollen. I’d done a good job at hiding it with makeup, and then wearing my hair down to add to the camouflage, but Viddy didn’t know how to keep her trap shut.
“What happened?” Kettle barked, turning my head so he could examine my eye.
I shivered at the touch of his rough fingers on my chin, and looked into his piercing blue eyes, becoming lost.
“Addy?” He asked, worry evident in his deep baritone voice.
I blinked, and then told him what happened earlier that day.
“I’m a high school science teacher, Kettle. Most of the kids use my class to blow off steam since there’s a mandatory lab, but today was a little worse than normal since it was a pep rally day. One of the boys on the football team was picking on a young girl, calling her names, and another boy, one of the ones that has a crush on the girl, intervened. I’d just walked around the corner when the football player threw a punch at the kid, who incidentally moved out of the way just in time, causing the player to punch me in the face instead.”
Kettle’s teeth ground together, making an audible noise as he listened.
“What did they do to the kid?” Silas’ voice broke the connection causing me to turn and look at him.
I shrugged. “Suspension. Benton High has a zero tolerance policy for fighting. He’ll be gone for well over two weeks.”
“That’s it?” Trance asked from further down the table.
I shrugged again. “I don’t know. It was an accident. Or at least the hitting the teacher part. So I can’t really get too mad at him.”
“Fuck that,” Kettle growled. “You sure as fuck can get mad at him. Nobody should be throwing punches with people that close around them. They should be aware of their surroundings. That shouldn’t happen at all in a school. What did the school resource officer have to say about it all?”
I would’ve replied if a commotion coming from the opposite corner we were in didn’t capture everyone’s attention, including my own.
“Let me go!” Kettle’s sister shrieked at a young man that was wrapped around her from behind, groping her boobs.
Kettle’s chair scooted back loudly as he took in the altercation, and then he exploded.
Literally.
One second he was in his chair and scooting back, and the next second he was across the room, punching the guy across the mouth with his fist with the force of a sledge hammer.
“Oh, shit.” Sebastian groaned.
The sentiment was echoed by the other four men as they, too, got up and started heading over towards the altercation.
I didn’t know if it was to help Kettle, or restrain him.
I’d seen many fights in my tenure as a high school teacher.
I’d broken up many of them, too.
The sounds that always surround a fight are unique.
There is the jeering from the crowd, the scuffling sound from the two people grappling, and then the actual sound of flesh meeting flesh.
Kettle’s fight resembled none of those.
The bar became so silent that the only sound that was heard was the ice machine dropping ice into the dispenser. No talking, laughing, cheering, no nothing. It was as if everyone was anticipating the upcoming events about to go down. Like watching a tiny car stuck on a railroad track and a freight train barreling down the tracks toward it.
Then the sound of Kettle’s fist meeting the guy’s face tore through the silence like a clap of thunder.
That’s all it took. One single punch.
The sound of the impact was difficult to describe.
It resembled the sound of a large thick textbook dropping down on a table top from a foot above the table.
There was a low, dull thwack, and the guy holding his sister’s boobs went down like a tree falling; blood poured from his mouth and nose, and three of the man’s teeth laid on the floor beside him in a small puddle of blood.
Kettle stood over the man, chest billowing air before he bent down to grab the man again. Only his club was there to intercept him before he got too far.
Sebastian’s brawny arms went around Kettle’s chest, anchoring him to his upper body. Once Sebastian had his arms locked around, Trance and Loki each took an arm, while Silas stood in front of Kettle talking to him calmly.
Dixie used the opening to drag the trash out the back door and slam it closed before rushing back to the table and taking a sip of beer.
“Fuck, but that boy can throw a punch. We haven’t seen Kettle blow in a long time. It makes me damn thirsty!” Dixie jabbered giddily.
“What happened? Did Kettle hit someone?” Viddy asked into the silence.
“Kettle’s got a bit of a temper. We’re just lucky that he’s slowed down a bit in his old age or he’d have gotten quite a few more punches in before anybody could’ve stopped him.” Dixie replied.
My face moved from Santa to the place Kettle had been standing moments before, only to find him gone. The group had disappeared outside, leaving Shannon there shaking her head, cleaning up the spilled glasses on the table she’d been delivering a drink to.
“Where’d they go?” I asked Dixie.
His eyes flicked to the back door that he’d thrown the man out of, and the back to me. “To have a discussion, I’m sure.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Daddy used to have a lot of discussions, too. That really meant he was beating the shit out of someone. He used to be the enforcer before his hands got too arthritic, and then he just supervised the prospects and told them how to do the most damage. Is Kettle the enforcer of your club?” Viddy asked casually as she reached out carefully for her drink.
Dixie, who’d been taking a drink of beer, choked, and turned his eyes to mine.
I wasn’t sure what the big deal was. Although, I’d never been around another club besides my father’s club before, I was fairly sure Viddy didn’t just commit a huge social faux pas. I also wasn’t privy to very much information about the club, either, so I didn’t know if there was some sort of protocol we were supposed to abide by and didn’t.
“What’s wrong?” I asked Dixie worriedly. “Were we supposed to not say that?”
My mind was whirling. Was it a secret? Was there some sort of club code that Viddy had inadvertently trampled over? Was I going to have to take Viddy and make a run for it?
Before my mind came up with an answer, Kettle pulled the chair out from beside me and took a seat, looking no worse for wear.
“What’s wrong, Dixie?” Kettle asked. “I didn’t kill him.”
Kettle’s tone had been light, but when Dixie’s eyes turned to him, and then flicked back to me, he became tense. “What?”
“Viddy just asked me if you were the enforcer for our club like her pop was for theirs.”
The statement, although sounding innocuous, dropped like a bomb among the men surrounding our table, and all of their eyes turned to the two of us, pinning us like specimens under a microscope.
“What?” I asked nervously.
“Your pops belonged to a club?” Kettle asked me in neutral tone.
Unaware of the raptor-like attention we were receiving, Viddy continued to talk about our father’s club. “Yeah, daddy was a member of The Lone Star MC for thirty years. He joined after he got out of the Marines. He was their enforcer. Although that’s about all we really know. We weren’t allowed at the clubhouse; nor did we go to many parties. The only ones we went to were the ones that were had for the families.”
Viddy finished her announcement with a long sip of her iced tea, and set the empty glass down carefully.
At the mention of my father’s MC, every single one of the men took a breath, shoulders slumping.
Something in my stomach released at the sight, allowing me to breathe again.
“Your pop was Tenor? He was a good man.” Silas said; there was no tension to this
question, as if the threat that was on their threshold vanished, no longer needing him to be on guard.
I smiled wistfully. “Yeah, Daddy died, gosh, seven years ago now.”
Viddy’s arm went around my shoulders and pulled me in tight.
We loved our Dad like crazy, and still thought about him every day; if Dad were still there, we wouldn’t have had to worry about what our crazy brother would do next, because he’d have had his shit straightened out at the first sign of a misstep.
“We had a pretty good relationship with them when Tenor was still there. Then the old President died, followed by your Dad that next month, and the new leadership came on and we haven’t spoken much to them since.” Silas explained.
I was nodding my head in agreement and trying my hardest not to shutter. “Yeah, we moved away after my father died. It was really hard for us to be there after both of our parents were gone. When Viddy found a school to work for here that taught the blind, and I found a high school job with Benton High, we figured that was a really good opportunity to spread our wings. It’s been six years now, and we haven’t been back to Lone Star since.”
“Here you go, gentlemen; ladies, yours will be another few minutes.” Shannon said airily as she set down the food.
I eyed Kettle’s steak that had onions and mushrooms smothered over the top and wondered why I’d ordered chicken when I could’ve gotten that.
The corn on his plate wasn’t as appealing, but when he lifted the cob to his mouth and took a bite, I could see the merit of the butter. Especially melted butter when he licked his lips, and then his fingers free of the melted goodness.
“Here y’all go. I took the liberty of giving you the low-fat cheese and sour cream since you didn’t specify what you wanted. For you, I got the low fat ranch dressing.” Shannon said as she placed Viddy’s baked potato, and my hot wings down in front of us.
That dig was directed towards Viddy more than me, since Viddy was busy carrying on a conversation with Trance, whom it was more than obvious Shannon had a thing for with the lingering touches and the shy glances, but I still took offense.
“Uhh, in fact, I would like it if you brought us both out the real kind. The other stuff doesn’t taste as good.” I all but growled, causing the table to chuckle.
I was pretty particular about food.
I liked it to taste good, and I liked to eat a lot of it.
Silas handed over his ranch that he wasn’t using. I thanked him readily.
“Are you hungry?” Trance asked me while eyeing my plate of chicken wings.
“A little,” I said picking up a hot wing and devouring the meat from the bone.
At one point, I’d had to stop due to no more ranch, and had to resort to the low fat shit that Shannon had brought earlier.
“Ick,” I said after my first taste. “I need some more real stuff.”
Deciding to risk it, I started to scarf down my wings like a man. Only after I’d finished nearly half of the hot wings did I realize that I really should’ve waited for the ranch. My mouth was on fire, and I started panting. It wasn’t surprising that I had no drink, either.
I wasn’t sure who gave it to me, but a cup of half-eaten ranch was set on the table beside the shitty ranch, allowing me to finish my meal without having to wait twenty minutes for Shannon to get back.
After finishing the very last wing, I fell back into my seat with a groan, brought my fingers up to my mouth, and was in the process of licking them clean when I realized the entire table was staring at me as if I’d grown horns.
“What?” I asked as I finally settled on Kettle to look at.
He only shook his head and went back to his half eaten steak.
“Did I eat too fast or something?” I asked warily.
Viddy, the cruel bitch, chimed in at that point. “No, you just did your Hoover Vacuum impression in front of a bunch of hot guys that make a living being bad ass. You also ate the hottest wing on the menu without even batting an eyelash. They’re just impressed.”
“I didn’t eat that fast.” I grumbled, tearing open my wipe package and cleaning my fingers of the stickiness.
“Actually, you did. You’ve got sucking the meat off a hot wing down to a fine art.” Dixie said, waving his hand in front of my face wildly.
Then I saw Kettle shift, move his hand down to his crotch, and adjust himself before he cut into his steak again, causing my face to flame.
Thirty minutes, a slice of cheesecake, and another glass of sweet tea later, Kettle was standing beside my rental car as I leaned against it.
“How much longer are they going to be on your car?” Kettle asked, eyeing the car with disgust.
I felt the same way. I hated the rental car. Especially after I was used to driving my own car. This car was too bland for my tastes, and didn’t have the get-up-and-go my own car had.
I missed my baby.
I sighed. “I don’t even think they’ve looked at it yet. They said they had some paying customers come in that they had to do first, and then they’d get to mine since mine was an insurance job.”
Although I could understand the reasoning, I hated that they weren’t even looking at it until they felt like it.
It wasn’t my fault that jackass had hit me.
A clunk, thunk, and then a curse came from the side of the car, and we both looked up to see Viddy holding her forehead. “Oww.”
“Your sister just hit her head on the door,” Kettle observed, slightly concerned.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “She does that quite a bit. She doesn’t like to draw attention to it though, so just act like you didn’t notice.”
“Alright,” he agreed reluctantly.
I guessed it went against the grain of my personality not to help those in need, but I knew my twin sister like the back of my hand. I knew that Viddy wouldn’t like help, and she hated calling attention to her weakness.
I’d learned long ago not to even bother with helping her if she had her mind set against help. Which was why I had a scar that ran along the underside of my chin from where my sister threw a vase at my head because I had the nerve to offer to assist Viddy outside for prom our senior year.
“Well, thank you again for dinner. You didn’t have to buy ours, but I appreciate it anyway.” I smiled at Kettle.
Then I noticed how close we were standing. How very, very close.
“Kettle?” I breathed.
Kettle’s eyes, those beautiful blue eyes went from my mouth, where they’d been staring, to my eyes, and the sexual awareness that flashed in them fairly electrified my nerve endings.
He leaned in, pressing me slightly against the door of my car, and leaned in until he was only a hairsbreadth away before he said, “Yeah?”
I could feel the hard ridges of his body where he leaned against me, and then the very hard part of him that I was dying to rub against.
Then my fucking asshole sister honked the horn, making us jump apart like we’d had a vat of boiling oil poured over our heads.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathed, pressing my hand against my heart.
Kettle was three feet away from me, his hands linked on the top of his head as he glared daggers at my sister. “Your sisters a...a...”
“Bitch?” I supplied.
Kettle shook my head and smiled. “I was going to say-”
“Asshole?” I cut him off.
“Shit head. I was going to say shit head.” Kettle chuckled as he moved closer to me.
Then the asshole honked the horn again, making both Kettle and I look at each other helplessly.
“Alright, well the queen asshole has spoken,” I shook my head and then opened my car door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I plan to have groceries.”
“I’m working tomorrow.” Kettle told me.
Was that a hint of sadness in his voice, or was it only me wanting it to be there?
“When are you off next?” I questioned.
/> “Friday.” He answered.
“I’ll get them then. Maybe you can stay for dinner.” I offered hopefully before dropping down in my seat and slamming the door without listening to his response.
“You just asked your hot firefighter neighbor that belongs to a motorcycle club to dinner. Does this mean you want to bang him? Shine his fire pole? Work his throttle? Ride him like a Harley?” My sister jeered.
I let my hand fly and smacked her across the boobs. “You’re such an ass. I was totally going to get a kiss from him before you had to pull out the asshole and honk the horn.”
“A little bit of mystery goes a long way, sister dearest.”
Indeed it does, I thought.
What I hadn’t planned on was letting the two months following my bar experience turn me into a raving lunatic that would do just about anything to have the man.
One thing after another came up, and the sexual tension was building so high, I couldn’t handle it. I was willing to do just about anything to have that man. Even if I had to shine his pole while he was on-shift at the station during my conference period.
Chapter 5
What is a hero? Someone who does something that has to be done, regardless of the consequences.
-Plaque on the wall at the Benton Fire Station
1 week later
Kettle
I fairly stomped up my front walk.
I’d had a bad day at work, Sebastian had been a royal dick all day, and my father had called.
For the first time in years.
Then I read the note on my door and wanted to curse.
Sorry I missed you. Maybe you can come for dinner this week. I even bought extra for tonight. You owe me 17 bags, Mister!
She’d had to carry seventeen bags up her stairs and all because my boss and VP, Sebastian, had needed ‘a day to himself.’ Normally, I had no problem pulling a shift if he needed me to, but today, of all days, had been a total clusterfuck.
The next morning, I’d gone to knock on her door after my morning workout to find her gone. She’d mentioned some sort of school testing to me in passing, and needing to go in early for them, but that also meant I couldn’t see her until next week since I worked this weekend.
Halligan To My Axe (The Heroes of The Dixie Wardens MC Book 2) Page 5
