Cole: A Bad Boy Romance

by Hart, Michelle

Jenny went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of red. It was cheap but it was better than nothing. She poured me one and I downed it in seconds, not even taking the time to savor the flavor. The alcohol went to my head immediately.

  “Long night, huh?” Jenny poured me another.

  “You could say that again.” I grabbed the wine bottle and we both sat down on the crumb-filled couch in the living room.

  Jenny looked into my eyes. “Oh my god, you met someone tonight.”

  How did my face give away everything so easily?

  I turned towards her. “How the fuck did you figure that out?”

  “You have that glint in your eyes. You've never had it before so this guy must be amazing if he was able to hold your attention.”

  I flushed at the thought of Ace. I didn't know much about him so why was he so captivating? We barely even spoke to each other and I already gave him my number. What kind of girl was I? The stripper cliché kept flashing across my mind.

  Jenny put her hand over her mouth and gasped. She leaned over and whispered, “Did he take your virginity?”

  “No way!” I shoved Jenny away hard. The glass of wine she was holding tipped slightly and spilled a little red on the carpet. “Oh crap, let me go get some paper towels.”

  I rushed to the kitchen and returned with a whole roll of paper towels. We dabbed the stain on the carpet until there was only a faint blotch. Our carpet was already full of red wine mistakes. There was no way we were getting our deposit back.

  “This guy must really be something. I've never seen you act this way before. What's his name?”

  I contemplated whether I should give her more details. The wine was messing with my head. “His name's Ace.”

  “Wow that justs screams sexy.” Jenny didn't even bother drinking out of a glass anymore. She palmed the bottle and drained it into her mouth. “He might be the one to finally make you a woman.”

  I shook my head but deep down she could be right. He was the only man I'd ever felt this way about. He might be the one. “This is stupid. I met this guy at a strip club. Not exactly my style of a fairy-tale romance.”

  Jenny put her hands on my shoulders and focused on me. “You need to forget about fairy tales. This is real life, Rachael. Don't let it pass you by. Just let the guy stick it in.”

  We both burst out laughing. But her words hit me in the gut. She was exactly right. I spent too many years waiting for my prince to come when there's no such thing. Too many movies and books conditioned me to wait for the perfect man. But that man didn't exist.

  “Enough about you. I met a guy today too.” Jenny beamed.

  I grabbed the bottle of wine from her and took a swig. “Tell me all about him.”

  “Well I haven't exactly met him yet.” Uh oh. Here we go again.

  “His name's Eric and I met him through one of those dating apps. We've been sexting back and forth all day.” Jenny pulled out her phone and almost showed me the dirty texts until I waved her phone away.

  “Jenny, do you really want to go through this again?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, you know exactly what I mean. Remember Harrison—the guy who really turned out to be a girl.”

  Jenny giggled hard. “Yeah that was rough. I almost turned lesbian for Harrison. But Eric is going to be different.”

  “What about Gary who actually turned out to be a fourteen-year old boy?”

  “I'm still waiting for him to become legal so we could date. He was so mature for his age.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I think you really need to find a job, Jenny. For one, I can't afford the rent by myself. And two, you'd meet plenty of real guys outside who were the right gender and age.”

  “I've tried, Rachael. Really I have. I've been to dozens of auditions but I haven't gotten any callbacks yet.”

  Jenny was trying to make it as an actress but the competition was extremely rough. Ever since she graduated college she'd only landed a couple commercials. They paid well but the money didn't last. Nobody had the heart to tell her that her dream probably wasn't going to come true.

  “Why don't you try something part-time. Maybe waitressing? Or I could get you a job at the club.”

  “You want me to dance?” Jenny downed the last of the wine and slammed the empty bottle on the coffee table.

  I shrugged. “We could use the extra money.”

  “Well I have an audition tomorrow. If I don't hear anything back, then I'll try it your way.”

  I smiled. “Sounds like a plan.” I stood up and my knees wobbled from the wine. “I'm going to hit the sack.”

  Jenny yawned and nodded. “Me too.”

  I stumbled into my room and tripped over a layer of dirty clothes, crashing face first into my bed. I was so exhausted and ready for the night to be over. I closed my eyes and Ace's lean build and tattoos invaded my head. I grinned and blissfully fell asleep.

  —

  The next morning, I awoke with a spitting headache. The sun blazed through the windows and burned my eyes. I grabbed a pillow and buried my face in it. The memories of last night and Ace came back to me. I reached my hand out and felt around the bed for my phone. I must have left it in my purse at the door. I had to find out if Ace tried to contact me.

  I used all the available energy in my body to lift myself up off the bed. I wiped dried drool from my cheek and realized that I fell asleep in the clothes from last night. I took my first step and the room spun, my head jackhammering with a hangover. I used the walls to hold myself up as I made my way down the hallway and to the front door.

  My cellphone was right where I left it, in my purse by the door. I turned it on but nothing happened. The screen was blank. My battery obviously ran out and my charger was all the way back in my room. Jenny was in the kitchen cooking some sausages and singing an Ariana Grande song out loud.

  She poked her head out. “Want some breakfast, Rachael?” The smell of greasy food almost made me vomit. I groaned and crawled to my bedroom.

  I undressed and climbed under the cool bedsheets. I plugged in my phone and turned it on. I waited a few moments—no missed calls. I sighed and pulled the covers over my head. What if Ace never called me?

  Chapter Four

  Ace

  I awoke to a familiar ringing in my head. I drank way too much last night like usual. I laughed to myself silently when I realized that I had fallen asleep on the pool table. I got up and tip-toed over all the guys passed out on the floor and made my way to the bar. I poured myself a small shot of Kentucky whiskey and knocked it back. The ringing slowly faded away and I already felt better.

  The image of Rachael's scantily-clad body crossed my mind. Goosebumps formed all over my arms and my morning wood got even harder. I shoved my hands in my pockets, searching. I checked over every inch of my jeans and realized it was in my vest pocket.

  I pulled out the crumpled paper that had Rachael's number scribbled on it. I admired the way she signed her name in cursive. I put the paper to my nose and it smelled so much like her. A cross between the ocean and rose petals.

  Should I call her right now? What the fuck are you thinking, Ace? You know the rules—don't seem too desperate. I reluctantly put the paper back in my vest and poured another shot of whiskey. Why did this girl have such a hold on me? I should have fucked her already and tossed her to the side.

  Hammer fell out of his office, no doubt suffering from the same hangover.

  “Crazy night.” He slapped me on the back and drank straight from the bottle of whiskey. Hammer looked at his watch. “It's already past noon. Wake everybody up so we can open.”

  The Dark Steel MC opened a restaurant called The Burger Joint to be used as a front to launder money back in the late 1970's. It wasn't supposed to make any money but instead became a destination spot for outlaws to gather. Over the years, the burgers brought in more money than the drugs and guns combined. It was steady and clean—exactly what a perfect front s
hould be.

  The back of The Burger Joint was where the Dark Steel MC was headquartered. It was a small double-story warehouse that we transformed into our meeting place. The first floor consisted of pool tables and a bar. The back was a private room where we held our club votes. Upstairs had a few bedrooms—including mine—that members used from time to time.

  “Everyone up!” I yelled. Some guys rolled around a bit while others didn't move an inch. I put two fingers in my mouth and whistled so loud it could wake the dead. Half-naked women peeled themselves off the floor and the men gravitated towards the bar. I went through the front and into the restaurant. I took out the keys, unlocked the door, and switched the open sign on.

  I went back into the club and more guys were awake. I passed them by and went upstairs. My room was a place where I could crash when the nights went too long or if I was trying to hide out from the cops. For some reason, last night, I never made it up the stairs. I grabbed some fresh clothes out of the closet and took a warm shower. The thought of Rachael came back to me and wouldn't leave. My cock was begging to sink into the sweet pussy of hers. I had to see her again.

  I turned off the shower and hugged a towel around my hips. I pulled my phone out of my jeans and the paper from my vest. Butterflies bumped around in my stomach. My breathing quickened. I felt like a little boy again with a crush. I punched the numbers in and held my breath while the phone rang.

  “Hello?” Her voice was the same from last night—soft and undeniably sexy.

  “Hey Rachael, it's Ace...from last night.”

  “How could I forget. I'm glad you called me.”

  “I was wondering if you wanted to get a bite to eat tonight?” I couldn't believe I was asking her on a date. The last time I asked a chick out on a date was prom back in high school. I didn't do the whole romance thing. I used women for sex and moved on. They had no other use to me. But Rachael was different.

  “I'm sorry, I can't,” Rachael replied.

  My heart dropped to the floor. My hands went numb and I almost dropped the phone. I couldn't believe she was rejecting me again.

  I was ready to hang up on her when she spoke up, “I mean I can't go out tonight. I have to work.”

  Relief flooded me. “How about after work? What time do you get off?”

  “I have an earlier shift tonight so I get off around ten. I have some homework to do but I can put that off.”

  “I'll pick you up at the club and we can get a bite to eat.”

  “All right,” she whispered back.

  I hung up the phone before saying goodbye. I had to leave her wanting more. At least my mind was somewhat working. But the desire in my pants reminded me of what I really needed. I'd use Rachael just like every other slut. Flood her pussy with my cum and never see her again—that was the Dark Steel way.

  I went back downstairs and the place was buzzing. A big difference from the graveyard I stumbled upon this morning. Hammer found me through the crowd. “Ace we have a club vote now.”

  “Be right there, Prez.”

  —

  Hammer hit the gavel on the long wooden table with our club symbol—a sword driven through a skull—carved into it. Framed pictures of our fallen brethren including my older brother hung on the wall. The members quit chatting and faced towards their president.

  Hammer put his elbows on the table and folded his hands. “We have a few things to go over today, gentlemen. I'd like Rowan to take over now.”

  Rowan was a smart guy—went to college, started a few businesses, and became the logical choice for club treasurer. He wasn't the usual type that joined a MC but he fit in nicely.

  Rowan brought out some papers and put on a pair of round glasses. “I was going over the finances and I thought I'd give everyone an update on how we're doing. As usual, The Burger Joint is bringing in fifty-four percent of our income. Guns are thirty percent and drugs are only sixteen percent. I've talked to Hammer about this a few times and I think it's time to open up another burger restaurant.”

  “So you want to start a chain?” I asked him.

  Hammer butted in. “We put our blood, sweat and tears into this club. Lost a lot of men along the way. Drugs and guns are the riskiest ventures—too many ways the cops can take us down. We can't lose everything we built. It's time to focus on more legitimate sources of income. Bring this club into the future.”

  Jasper coughed into his hand. He was the oldest member and never wanted any responsibility. But we all looked at him for guidance. “Hammer is right. Look at our brothers.” Jasper pointed to the frames on the wall. “We can't lose anymore.”

  Everyone bowed their heads. I thought about my brother, AJ. His devil-may-care attitude. He taught me everything I knew. I wanted him back.

  Jasper continued, “This motorcycle club is changing and we need to accept it.”

  Hammer took up the gavel. “I propose we cut out drugs for now and keep the guns business. We can sell our contacts to our black brothers and focus more on the new restaurant. All in favor, raise your hand.”

  I knew the club needed to go legitimate at some point but I thought that was a long way from now. I didn't want to give up being an outlaw. I couldn't imagine myself working in a burger restaurant the rest of my life. But I had to focus on the survival of the MC.

  I raised my hand along with the others. It was unanimous.

  Hammer pounded the gavel to the table. “There's only one problem,” Hammer began, “we need to to break the news to the Los Diablos. The Blacks won't sell to the Mexicans; by doing this deal we are essentially cutting the Mexicans off from their number one supplier.”

  “And how do you suppose we get around this problem?” Maverick asked, rubbing his large stomach.

  “We need to set up a meet with the Los Diablos and explain to them why were doing it. If we find them another supplier, they won't be happy but maybe it will prevent a blowback.” Hammer looked around the room at all of us. “We need to work together on this.”

  “Miguel and I grew up together,” Jasper announced. “Let me talk to him. I can get him to see it our way.”

  Hammer nodded. “Zane, I need you to reach out to your contacts in Vegas. See if you can find a new supplier. Make sure they'll be willing to work with the Mexicans.”

  Zane looked up from cleaning his gun and nodded. Zane's tattoos covering every inch of his body, including his shaved head. He was always fiddling with his guns, never paying too much attention to what was going on around him.

  “This meeting of the Dark Steel MC is adjourned.” Hammer slammed the table one last time.

  Chapter Five

  Katherine

  The black coffee kept me warm as I pulled into the empty parking garage. It was five in the morning and the place was deserted. For most people this was an ungodly hour but this was the time I got the most work done. The sun was barely up and the noise of the city had not begun. It was serene and perfect.

  I parked in my usual spot and walked to the dark corner of the parking garage. I came to a long door that stated: Electrical Closet. Warning: High Voltage. I pulled out my key card that had my name engraved and slipped it into the subtle slot right below the door handle. A beep announced that it was okay for me to turn the handle.

  The room was pitch black until I flipped the switch. The lights flickered and buzzed, lighting the small space. Nobody was here yet. I was always the last to leave at night and the first to arrive in the morning. We used to have a whole floor in the office building above but the bosses cut the team by ninety percent and exiled what was left down here. I actually liked it more. Less people meant less annoyances.

  I sat down in a rigid chair and let the coffee heat my hands. I blew on it before taking another sip. I glanced up at the giant bulletin board that hung on the wall. The Dark Steel Motorcycle Club had eluded us for a long time. They were pretty smart criminals—covering their tracks and never making a mistake.

  The pictures of each member formed a sort of pyramid
on the board. At the top was the leader, Hammer. Below him were his right-hand men, Maverick and Ace. At the base of the pyramid were the rest of the members. These were the ones we focused on the most. The less important members were more likely to mess up or turn against the MC. We knew every detail of their lives: who they talked to, who they fucked, where they took their smoke breaks. Folders and folders of small details that were for the most part useless. I had spent years of my life on Dark Steel and I had nothing to show for it.

  The beep at the door signaled someone was coming in. I checked my watch that said: 5:30 A.M.