Fight You

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Fight You Page 3

by Abby Mccarthy


  Vito grabs himself a soda from the fridge and then I let him know that I will watch the kids so he can leave.

  “Are you sure I don’t mind sticking around for a while?” he asks rather hopeful.

  “I’m sure. What time does Angie get home?”

  “She should be here just after five. Here is my number if you need anything,” he says scrawling down his number on a dry erase board in the kitchen. It holds miscellaneous numbers and reminders of eggs and other random kitchen items needed from the grocery store.

  I thank him and sit down with Gino and Ari. We talk about her day, and already I can tell that this school is going to be more welcoming than her last. Maybe Gino sees something in Ari that he sees in himself, two lost souls starring in the mirror.

  *

  Jenny was right about many things, the first being Sunday dinners. This place gets insane on Sundays. Today is my second Sunday here. I’ve begun to feel settled in. I tried to help Angie in the kitchen today and she shooed me off. “Go get to know everyone. I want you outback getting the scoop on my kids.” she said winking, letting me know that she was kidding.

  The sun is shining and it’s a fairly warm fall day and I immediately feel the warmth on my skin. The neighbors must have recently cut their lawn because that freshly cut grass smell hangs heavy in the air. Her yard is small but cozy. A three foot fence separates her yard from neighbors and it’s landscaped with great detail all the way around. Marigolds and mums are in bloom and colors of reds and yellows bob against the fence.

  Two picnic tables sitting side by side are covered with pretty tablecloths that look both durable and intricate in design. The tables sit under a large arbor covered in vines and green foliage that weave intricately in a wild chaos. The patio has dark stains from grapes that must have recently fallen from the vines and I inadvertently step on one squishing it under my foot.

  The backyard has a bizarre mix of tranquility and wild Italians that can make any calm atmosphere feel lively, yet its coziness is the epitome of calm. It’s a blend that you wouldn’t think works well, but calm and chaos may just be my new idea of the perfect family. Almost everyone is here. I count twelve kids, including Ari. She is a little shy with some of the kids, but it makes no difference to Gino. He talks her ear off, and she doesn’t mind one bit.

  Jenny sits down in front of me, “Beer?” she asks tilting a beer in my direction.

  “I’ve never really drank beer.”

  “No? Well, you won’t like this one then, if you’re not a beer drinker. I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab you something better for beginners.” She gets up from the table and a few minutes later she returns handing me a beer with an apple on it. “This one has a cider taste to it. It’s good, but you'll get buzzed quick.”

  “So, what are you thinking of Wakeman so far?”

  “I haven’t seen that much, mostly Little Italy.”

  “It’s all that really matters anyways,” she says shrugging her shoulders. “So, have any guys caught your attention, yet?”

  The question catches me off guard. There is no denying the fact that Little Italy and even Angie’s family has attractive men, but I’m not in a place where I can think about men.

  “No, I’m not really looking right now. I really need to focus on Ari and make sure she’s happy.”

  “I get that. I’m not a mom, but I understand where you’re coming from. Has it been hard being on your own?”

  “Way more than you know,” I say with a ton of feeling.

  One of the sister-in-laws holler from an open window that dinner is ready. The kids go inside first. Whines can be heard from outside that they don't want to eat in the basement, but their plates are filled and downstairs they go. Jenny helps bring dishes to the table. I offer to help again, but I am shot down.

  Angie sets down a large dish of baked cavatelli, then moves behind me and flicks a switch. Twinkling white lights are woven throughout the arbor. This is our first dinner outside since I have been here, and it is beautiful. Someone lights some candles on the table. Wine is passed around and large amounts of food are consumed. Everyone jokes and laughs. It’s a tornado of chatter. My head is spinning from the two cider beers I’ve had and all of the happy chaos.

  We finish eating and they let me help clear the table. I feel like I need to earn my keep, even if that isn’t what they are projecting. I bring the last dish into the kitchen where Carlo is washing the dishes. The kids are all watching a movie in the family room, it’s oddly quiet.

  “You fit right in Aubrey,” Carlo says.

  “Thanks. Your family is pretty great. They make it so easy.”

  “Don’t give us all of the credit. You and Ari are just as good for us as we are for you.” Carlo always seems to know what to say. I smile at his kind words and head back outside.

  “Aubrey!” Jenny shouts as soon as I walk out the door, “Come play gin with us. Vito thinks he has a fighting chance with you here. Help me prove to this goof that it doesn’t matter if you haven’t played with us before or not, I’ll still wipe the floor with him."

  “Yeah, Aubrey come play. Jenny only thinks she can beat me, once she’s had a good bit of wine in her,” Vito jokes.

  “Oh puhlease,” Jenny says, “The only time you ever win is when you’re sitting at the kids’ table,” she laughs at her own joke and then turns to me. “It’s only been a few years since we’ve let him sit at the grown up table.”

  Vito throws cloth napkin at Jenny, landing it on her head. She snatches it off, shrugs and deals the hand.

  I drink another cider beer and find myself laughing a lot at the easy banter. Carlo joins us and is dealt a hand. He proves to us all that he is the king of gin rummy. Soon enough, I’m yawning. I’m having a great time, but decide to call it a night. I get groans from Jenny, saying it’s too early, but I don't let her sway me.

  I walk in the family room to check on Ari and Gino and find them both passed out on opposite ends of the couch. I decide to leave her be and head upstairs to my room. As I lay in bed, I think about what my life could’ve been like if I’d had a family like this, and I’m happy that, for once, Ari has it.

  *

  Jenny was also right when I asked her about work; this town has next to nothing. The last few weeks, along with getting adjusted to new surroundings, I’ve spent my days searching for a job. I’ve applied everywhere and my name is on a wait list at the local temp agency. Jenny has been caught up in some drama that a friend is going through, but she called me today with news of a job.

  “It’s not an ideal place, but it’s a job. My girlfriend, Maura, the one I told you about, had some things she needed to deal with. I talked to her dad and he said the job is yours, if you need it. It’s in their office attached to a shop, placing part orders and answering phones. Listen, these guys are bikers, the hardcore kind, not the Sunday rider kind. If you think you can't handle it, I’ll understand, okay. Just let me know.”

  “Are they dangerous?”

  “I’ve been there dozens of times with Maura. No one will hurt you, but you might see some things that are a bit on the wild side, if you go into the clubhouse. Do you think that you can handle it?” She asks me. I sense a bit of fear in her voice, like she knows that me taking this job will push boundaries. Boundaries, that if I am honest, I’m not sure that I can cope with. But fear makes you desperate. At this point, I’m so afraid that Rich will find me and if he ever does money is what will help us escape.

  “Count me in.”

  Chapter 3

  Daws

  Click, clack. Click, clack.

  I ignore the noise and light up a cigarette. I just finished bending a piece of metal that will be used as a fender for this custom bike I've been working on. It’s a sick design. Click, clack...damn I hear heels clacking across the shop’s cement floor.

  “Daws baby,” Big Titty Rhonda coos. That’s right, she fucking coos at me, like I’m a fucking baby.

  “I gotta work in fifteen,
how ‘bout you give me that fat cock of yours. I forgot my panties so all you need to do is lift my skirt.”

  Is this broad for real? Her eagerness tells me I’ve been letting her get this a little too frequently. Before I get a chance to deny her, she gets on her knees as if she sensed my reluctance, “I’ll just take this big boy in my mouth.”

  The floor is dirty, stained with oil; not a place I’d want a lady to be, but Rhonda is hardly a lady. Rhonda now has my flaccid cock out of my pants. I should tell her to stop. I’m not even hard. She wraps her lips around my dick swirling her tongue ‘til it’s hard.

  “That’s right give it to me baby,” she says in between her hand sliding up my dick and her mouth gliding down. Her voice grates under my skin. I want to push her off but her hand grabs my balls, massaging them. I close my eyes and picture that famous Jessica chick, the one from Blade.

  Everyone wants something from me. Rhonda sucking my dick is most definitely because she wants something; wants the other sluts to know she fucks me, wants better hours at the bar, and God forbid if she thinks she could be an old lady someday. I gotta give it to her, she is good at giving head. In minutes, I’m coming down her throat, picturing hair a lot darker than what’s on Rhonda’s head.

  For a moment, I feel bliss as she takes all of my cum down her throat, but it passes too quick. I can’t even escape in a good blow-job anymore.

  Taking.

  I’m always fucking taking.

  I was raised to fucking take. I’m a Devil’s Crusader, a brother in my family’s motorcycle club. We take what we want. It’s how I’ve been raised. I don’t even remember how old I was the first time I smoked a joint. Eleven maybe? And the women, I barely had pubes before they started trying to go down on me. I love my dad, but he was busy. He thought my mom was looking out for me but she was too caught up being an old lady. She partied and forgot about me. I swear to Christ if I’m ever a dad, I will never let my kids around here at such a young age.

  Taking I’m so sick of it, especially after that shit that just went down with my best friend Maura. I wanted her for so long, because that’s what everyone expected. She gave her heart to someone else. I couldn’t accept it, so I took a part of her because I thought she wanted it. She didn’t. I just saw what I wanted, and I took that too. I didn't rape her. I’d never do some shit like that. But maybe, I took her friendship and used it to get what I wanted, and what I wanted was her, despite her happiness. I was so fucking smug. I’m sick of it and sick of myself.

  I pull Rhonda up by her elbows and secure my dick back in place and smack her ass, “That’s the last time you’re getting my dick doll.”

  “Wha... what’s wrong? I...I thought…” She is stumbling over her words like she never could have fathomed that I would stop this.

  “You give good head, but this thing is done.”

  “I have your fucking cum in my mouth still, and you’re getting rid of me?” She looks pissed but it needs to happen.

  “Nah, doll. I think you think something more here is going on, and it’s not. Time to move on.” I walk away from her. I know I could’ve waited, but this shit needed to be done.

  *

  I worked through lunch and now I’m starved, so I head into the clubhouse and make a beeline for the kitchen. I grab some bread and lunch meat, then throw together a huge sandwich. I lean over a metal industrialized table and begin eating. I lift my head, only to find Mickey standing behind me. Mickey is Maura’s dad, and the club’s Sergeant at Arms. He’s still pissed at me over what happened with Maura. Can’t say I blame him.

  “What’s up, Mick?” I say after swallowing my bite.

  “Maura’s replacement is coming here to get some paperwork and then she’s starting tomorrow. She’s a nice girl, a friend of Jenny’s. Make sure the guys behave around her, including you. Ye hear me?”

  “Aye, Mick,” I say trying to mock his Irish accent. He walks past me and smacks me upside the back of my head, not hard but hard enough to let me know he’s not impressed. I silently laugh and finish my lunch.

  When I head back to the shop, I get my MIG Welder out and get ready for the next part I need to weld together. There is a large black tube with a spray hose at the end, we call it a squirt gun, but it’s far from that. I spark up the flame and put it to the metal and sparks start to fly.

  I see movement in the office and I figure Mickey is in there with the new girl. I can’t believe Maura is gone, and a new girl is taking her place. It stings. I don’t want to see another chick in that office doing what Maura does, knowing I’m part of the reason she left.

  Skaggs walks in from the parking lot. He’s been shadowing me, trying to learn how to weld. Last week, he scorched his brows off, so I’m hesitant to show him anything. Not the sharpest tool, that one.

  “What’s up, man?” I ask as he approaches.

  “Hey, Daws. Did you see the new girl?”

  “No, not yet. Good?”

  “I’d hit it.”

  “You’d hit anything, so that’s not saying much,” I slap him on his back, busting his balls. “Mickey wants you boys to be good around her. Says she’s too nice for you.”

  “What about you?” he quips.

  “What about me?” I smirk back, hoping that if the boys think I’m interested that they will give her the space Mickey wants. We head out to the front of the shop, passing the office. I’m not able to get a good look yet, but Skaggs has peaked my interest. I light a smoke, and lean against the wall to wait.

  The door swings open and Mickey walks out followed by a dark haired beauty. Her eyes are the most vibrant shade of green, making them almost look yellow. They draw me in. There is so much in her eyes. She looks innocent, but her eyes tell another story. Her cheekbones are high and her lips are so full. If she was a little taller, she could be a model. I’m struck stupid, completely speechless.

  Mickey leans in close to me, an in-genuine hug so that he can talk close to my ear without anyone hearing, “Pick your jaw up off the floor and say hello. Remember what I told ye, mate,” his Irish accent coming off thicker than normal.

  I snap my jaw closed because he was right, I was staring with my jaw hanging open. I give her a tilt of my chin. A fucking tilt of my chin. What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “Name’s Daws. I’m the lead mechanic. What’s your name, doll?”

  She is almost sheepish as she gives me a wave of her hand, “Hi, I’m Aubrey.”

  Her voice is sweet, too sweet for me, but I kid you not, it makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

  “Aubrey," I repeat it aloud getting the feel of her name as it slips past my lips.

  “Well, nice to meet you Daws.”

  I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, but I could swear when she says my name that her cheeks tinged pink. “Thanks, Mickey. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. You sure it’s okay if I get here around nine-thirty?”

  “Aye, it’s no problem. Half these guys don’t show up until ten anyways. As long as ye get yer work done around here, ye don’t have anything to worry about,” Mickey says to her.

  “Okay. Thank you, again. My ride's waiting, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turns and walks away. My eyes follow her ass, it’s perky and perfect. My dick twitches thinking about it naked on top of me.

  She looks back and smiles at me, at least I want to believe it was me and not us. Those eyes, damn those eyes. I suddenly feel guilty for calling her doll, and cheapening her like that. Mickey’s right, she is different.

  She stops next to a large black Escalade. I know that truck. I see Jules talking with the driver. Shit. It's Carlo, one of Carmine’s guys. Jealousy rushes through me, a feeling I’m not used to. Even when I saw Maura with another guy, it wasn't jealousy I was feeling. Everyone thought we were going to be together and when she came into the club with a meathead on her arm, I felt like a chump. But now, looking at Aubrey getting into the truck with him, pure fucking jealousy. My muscles tighten and I let out a deep breath
as a rush of rage flows through me. Not even an hour ago I just told myself that I’m done taking and seeing this girl that’s what I want to do. Feeling jealous for some girl just ticks me off. I don’t understand how I could feel any type of jealousy for some chick I just met. This isn’t like me at all.

  I storm back into the clubhouse and down two shots of Jack Daniels and head back out to weld. I pass Mickey, and can’t resist asking, “You hired someone mobbed up?”

  “No, it’s not like that. She lives with Jenny’s mom. I guess she’s friends with the family. I hired her because Maura asked me too.”

  A feeling I have no right to feel rushes through me; relief. Carlo and I are cool with each other, but for a few minutes there I wanted to kill him. That look in her eyes, I’m not sure if it’s sadness or innocence but he doesn't deserve her and I sure as shit don’t either. Something about her makes me want to protect her and take care of her.

  Chapter 4

  Aubrey

  My heart beats fiercely. I barely notice Carlo, or the ride as he drives us away from my new job. My palms are sweating, my face feels flushed, and my heart feels like it is going to thump right out of my chest, but for once it isn’t panic. I see good looking guys all of the time. Heck, Carlo and all of his brothers are good looking, but I have never been affected by a man like this before.

  My breath caught when I laid eyes on Daws. He was tall and lean, yet muscular. Tattoos cover his arms. His dark hair was pulled back into a small ponytail. His eyes, a smooth chocolate brown, held me captive. He seemed at a loss for words. I hope that was a good thing.

  In my nineteen years, I have never been so taken aback by a man. I would never let anyone get close. Sure guys would show me interest, but I always felt so disgusting knowing the vile ways my body has been used. Usually, the thought of a man touching me sends me into a full blown panic attack. But for a brief second, I close my eyes and imagine him holding me in his arms, and I feel the strangest sensation; comfort.

 

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