Red

by Kim Jones

  “Sorry sir,” the man with the strong accent says when he nearly brings us to our death at an intersection.

  “If you do that shit again, you’ll die an early death by dick strangulation,” Big Al promises, causing all of us to take a moment to process his words. Now, my outlook on dick strangulation is just that- strangling a dick until someone dies. What he should have said was that he would strangle him with his own dick if he almost killed us again.

  No…that wouldn’t have worked either. Maybe he could cut off the man’s dick and choke him with it if he almost killed us again.

  “The motherfucker is gonna die if he don’t get his shit in check.” Big Al’s words are said with enough determination that we all believe him- even though we can’t stop laughing.

  In the security line at the airport, Kyle gets to go through the TSA pre-check line. Possum, being the ornery ass that he is, doesn’t understand why Kyle gets to keep his shoes on and he doesn’t. It almost starts a war, I shit you not. It ends with Possum getting nearly thrown out of the airport and all of us apologizing on his behalf. Good thing they don’t hold the middle finger motion to the same standard as they hold a threat. If that were the case, Possum would be in custody right now, and because his boys are ride or dies, they would all be in there too. Me? I am taking my ass to the house. With or without them. Call me selfish if you want to, but fried chicken and cornbread are in my very near future.

  We have a layover at LAX. Unfortunately, LAX doesn’t offer a smoke room, so off we go to the designated smoking area fifty friggin’ miles away. If you’re a frequent flyer, then you know that means that we have to go back through security. This time, we breeze through with only one security guard telling Possum to chill the hell out. I have a feeling they aren’t in the mood to fuck around, and Possum is missing fried chicken and cornbread much like me.

  The poor flight attendants on the flight from LAX to New Orleans will never forget the Devil’s Renegades, I’m sure. By the time we board the flight, they are all pretty drunk. Prior to yesterday, neither Ronnie nor Possum had ever flown before. It is the funniest shit I’ve ever witnessed in my life. Picture two burly bikers holding vomit bags, shooting whiskey and still trying to pick up flight attendants between dry heaves and drinking, and you’ll get the same vision I lived through.

  We finally make it to New Orleans in one piece, and nobody gives a shit about the ex-junkie in the van as blunts are fired up and passed around. The PROSPECT driving is catching immortal hell and Luke is ill as a hornet because he doesn’t smoke and he has to endure Kyle’s version of Milkshake completely sober. It’s a complete clusterfuck for everyone…well, not everyone.

  Regg and I have claimed the back seat to ourselves. The laughter in the front of the van grows distant to us as we get lost in one another. Conversation is the last thing on my mind, but it’s important that we get it over with now.

  “I was never with Chip,” I say, starting the conversation at what I feel like is the most important part. “I told you that to make you leave.”

  “It worked.” Regg smirks at me and I’m glad he doesn’t hold any hard feelings.

  “I didn’t tell you be-,”

  “I know why you didn’t tell me, Red,” he says, cutting me off. “I know you did it because you thought it was the right thing to do. But, don’t ever doubt my ability to take care of you. I’d rather give my life for you, than have to live one day knowing that you didn’t trust me to protect you, or my family.” I knew this. This epiphany came to me only moments after he left the last time I saw him.

  “I know that now. Hell, I knew that then, but when I realized what I was doing it was too late.”

  “You want to tell me what happened?” he asks, and I wonder if he really wants to know the answer to that question. I know I’ll tell him one day, but today is not that day. Plus, there is a burning question in my mind.

  “Not right now. So, what about you?” I try to act like I’m not really interested, but his smile tells me that he can see right through my bullshit- just like he always can.

  “What about me?”

  “Did you find any…lovers while I was gone?”He laughs and it’s one of those laughs that tells me he’s fucking guilty. “What?” I yell, causing everyone in the van to turn around and look at us. They must realize what I’ve just discovered because they all turn back around- even Luke. Fucking traitors.

  “It’s not what you think.” He’s getting defensive, which means it’s exactly what I think.

  “Let me guess, fucking Taylor.” A snicker comes from the front of the van and my suspicions are confirmed.

  “Look, I didn’t fuck her. We just hung out.”

  “Hung out? What do you mean y’all hung out?”

  “I mean we hung out. Get off my back, Red. You had me convinced you were with another man.”

  “Get off your back? What did she do? What did y’all do? Did you kiss her?” I’m firing off questions left and right. I want to know the answer to all of them just as much as I don’t. “Has she been to our house?” Regg runs his hands under his cap, letting out a breath that I guess he’d been holding. It is a fool move on his part. He’s gonna need all the oxygen he can get because I am fixing to choke the ever-living shit outta him.

  “Guys, I need a minute.” I don’t know what that means, but a chorus of ‘I’m watching,’ ‘You got it brother’ and ‘Hell yeah’ ring out through the van seconds before I’m on my back and he’s on top of me, pinning me with his hips and shutting me up with his mouth.

  I’m beating the shit out of his back when he grabs my arms and holds my wrists with one hand while he pushes up my shirt with the other. He kisses me deeper, finding my already hard nipple and rubbing his thumb over it until I’m leaning in to his touch. When I calm down, he breaks the kiss, whispering words across my neck as he kisses me between his promises.

  “I only want to kiss you, Red.” Teeth nip at my neck, and the sting is soothed with a flick of his tongue. “I only want to make love to you, Red.” His hand covers my breast, squeezing it with just the right amount of pressure. “You are the only woman I want wearing my patch, sleeping in my bed and having my last name.” He kisses his way up my neck then looks at me with eyes burning with desire. “I don’t want anybody else. It’s only you. Since that first night, it’s only been you. Marry me.”

  What. The. Fuck. Did he just propose to me? I mean, I knew it was coming, but am I ready for this? I go through the list in my head, checking it off one by one.

  Do I love him? Check.

  Do I need him? Check.

  Does he love me? Check.

  Does he need me? Check.

  Can I trust him? Check.

  Can I trust him to not bring another girl into his home, kiss her, call her darlin’ and introduce her to the club just because he thought I was living my dream with another man? We’ll work on that one.

  Can he take care of me? Check.

  Does he make me happy? Check.

  Has he proven himself to me? Check.

  Do I want to marry this man that has devoted his time to me, sacrificed his life for me and just confessed his love for me?

  You’re fucking right I do.

  But, I always imagined something a little more romantic than this. Maybe a sunset at the lake, or in a hot air balloon ride. Not like this.

  “You just proposed to me, in the back of a van with six stinking men sitting up front, only minutes after you tell me you had another woman in our house?” His hips thrust into me, reminding me of what I do to him and another part of him that I don’t want to ever live without.

  “I asked you a question, Red. Now, either you can answer me willingly, or I can fuck it out of you.” He smiles that panty-dropping, heart melting, has me already coming on the backseat smile of his.

  “If I say yes, will you still promise to fuck me until I scream it over and over?”

  “Yes.” So the moment isn’t romantic. So I won’t get that hot air ballo
on ride. But, the thing about Regg is I know that if he thinks he is capable of doing something to make me happy, he’ll do it. That’s all anyone really wants in life, isn’t it? Happiness? Well, I’ve found my happiness, and he wears a cut that says he is one of the Devil’s Renegades. So, upon my answer, not only will I become Mrs. Reggie Rawls, I’ll become Property of Devil’s Renegades Regg, Red.

  “Yes, Regg. I’ll marry you.” And in this moment, I realize it’s the only thing in life I’ve ever really wanted.

  Epilogue

  One week later

  That’s right. One week. That’s how long it took me to undo everything Taylor had done. Who in the hell hangs pictures of trees on the walls anyway? You can look out any window of the house and see a shit ton of them. What an idiot.

  Church was held the day after we got home. Luke was named the new Sergeant at Arms and was excited about his first job that will lead him to Tennessee. I will miss him, but I have Regg-the Devil’s new Enforcer- to keep me company.

  Enforcer.

  That just sounds bad ass. Which is exactly what my future husband is.

  The ceremony is being held at our house- if you want to call it a ceremony. It’s more like a party. The dress code is leather, the decorations are non-existent and the yard has enough Harleys in it to start a dealership. It is my kinda place.

  I am not dressed in leather. I’m wearing a dress that accents my ass, my legs and is about two sizes too small-just how Regg likes it. Oh, and the color? Fire engine red.

  I wish I could tell you a whole bunch of romantic shit happened, but it didn’t. Luke drove me around the house on the back of his bike to where Regg stood wearing his best ripped jeans and a black t-shirt. Catcalls rang out when I came into view and laughter replaced it when I nearly fell getting off the bike.

  We didn’t make up our own vows, we just let the President from a local Christian charter say them for us. We kissed in a very inappropriate way considering Regg’s aunt and uncle were there.

  But, when I felt the weight of that leather on my back for the first time, it was a feeling I’ll never forget. Branding someone might sound demeaning to some. Wearing a patch that labels you as property might seem a little derogatory to most. But to a real ol’ lady, it means that you belong. That you are spoken for. It means that in a world where dreams are shattered, hopes are lost and life has no meaning, you still have everything. You have the love of a man, the love of a family and the respect of many.

  In my life, I’ve been a lot of things. I’ve been an orphan outcast, a private dancer, a well-known stripper, a star and a junkie. But, in all that time, there is only one place that I could call home. The club is my family and my home.

  I might have been born Denny Deen, property of the state of Mississippi, but I’ll die as Red, Property of Devil’s Renegades Regg- the woman I was always destined to become.

  The End.

  Other books by Kim Jones

  Saving Dallas

  Saving Dallas Making the Cut

  Saving Dallas Forever

  www.kimjonesbooks.com

  www.facebook.com/kimjonesbooks

  @authorkimjones