by Ryan Michele
He had to know I wouldn’t do that to him again, but I said nothing.
“It’s just drinks.”
“Why do you want me to go so bad? Is Dickhead behind this?” If he was, I was going to kill him or wipe out Dickhead’s shit and not think twice about it. Fucker.
“No. Just come.”
My head fell back again. I’d gotten two new clients this week and got paid by Wonder Woman. On top of the new ones, I found something suspicious that required more of my attention. That was what I was working on before Rocco showed up at my house. “You’re not going to give this up are you?”
“Nope.” He patted my leg then gave it a squeeze. “Up and at em’. Get dressed, and we’re out.”
I looked down at my jeans and t-shirt. “I am dressed.”
“While your tits are sexy as hell, I can see your nipples.” Looking down, in fact one could see my nipples through the white fabric.
“Fuck me.”
“Sorry. Not goin’ there,” he fired back.
I smacked his arm, rising from the couch. “No nip show for me.” Groaning, I made my way into my bedroom, Luna following.
If I was going, I’d make the best of it. Like always.
The Warf was a bar on the edge of town. People came from several counties around to go there, just to drink and hang.
I didn’t mind the bar, but it was always crowded with people. If they’d open the back room it would relieve some of the confinement, helping to not feel some of the pinch.
Entering, Rocco was in front of me and grabbed my hand, pulling me through the crowd. It was a crush and loud. This wasn’t the place to sit and have a deep and meaningful conversation. More like get drunk, dance, and find someone to take home for the night. Hell, even in the bathroom, which I’d seen on occasions.
Not pretty.
Rocco’s other hand went up as he waved to Stormy, the owner of the place. I followed suit, except adding a smile the man’s way.
Stormy was a good and honest man. He held a very special place in my heart because he took care of Rocco, giving him a roof over his head. Not many people would have taken a chance on the likes of Rocco or me, but Stormy did.
Rocco and I lived in the local shelter together for many years. When we turned eighteen, it was time for us to go. I went with our social worker, Janey, and Rocco went with Stormy, who he developed a relationship with while working as a cleaner for the bar.
At first it was difficult to be apart after relying heavily on one another for safety and comfort. We had to find a new normal, and it was a hard adjustment. I’d only ever had the shelter be my safe place, but truly it wasn’t because I always slept with an eye open. When I went to Janey’s, sleeping became a bit easier. Meaning, I only slept with one eye half open.
Rocco, though, took to living with Stormy with ease, trusting him immediately. I envied that for a very long time. That ability to still believe the good inside people, I just didn’t have it.
Warm bodies bumped and shifted into mine as Rocco led me to the other side of the bar where a few tables were. Stormy showed up on cue. “Out,” he ordered, and the people sitting at the table looked up but didn’t move. This made me chuckle. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” His glare might even put Wrong Way in his place. Might.
The three men and one woman got up quickly and scurried away. I pulled my hand from Rocco’s and moved to Stormy, wrapping my arms around his bulk. He was a brute of a man at over six feet tall and broad shoulders.
“How’s my beautiful girl doin’?” he asked in my ear, making a smile grace my face. I wasn’t sure at the time if Stormy knew he was getting two teens for the price of one, but he treated me like his own from the beginning. It took me a few years to get to this point with him, where I could feel like he was real, but now he was on a very short list of people I trusted in this world.
“Not bad. Looks like business is good.”
He pulled away and held me at arm’s length. “Really good.” Then he looked at Rocco, taking on the authoritative stare as I liked to call it. It was the one where we listened. “You keep your eye on this one. Place is gettin’ rowdy.”
“I can handle myself, Stormy,” I told him, something he already knew because he showed me. He taught me the exact spot to insert a knife to make a man bleed out. Great times…
His stern look came to me. “Know that. Just don’t want you gettin’ hurt or me havin’ to get out my shotgun and put a bullet in some asshole tryin’ to get in your pants.”
I rolled my eyes. “No one is gettin’ in my pants.” There was only one man I allowed there. Would only be him, at least for now. There was no interest in anyone else.
Stormy looked out into the mass of people, leaning down to my ear. “These men are rowdy tonight. Watch your back.”
“Don’t worry so much,” I told him, patting his arm. If he only knew what I really did, that would put me in a hell of a lot more danger than being at a bar with a bunch of men. He didn’t, though, and I was keeping it that way.
He looked me up and down. “You look like you do. You’re fresh fuckin’ meat to these boys.”
“I’m not fresh meat. I’m here all the time.” Well, not all the time, but regularly enough.
“Woman, you know what I mean.” He stared me down and didn’t even flinch when I gave him my smile that usually melted the ice off any man. Dammit.
“I know. I’ll be careful. Just gonna have a few drinks and get this guy”—I pointed my thumb over at Rocco—“to take my ass home.”
“Tiny’ll be around to get your order.”
“I can just go up to the bar.” Why did I feel like I was on repeat tonight? I took care of myself for a long damn time, but I had to admit, in a place deep inside where I’d locked up, I felt the happiness of having this. My child me craved it, and Stormy gave it freely.
“You’ll sit your ass down,” Stormy demanded.
“Did Jodi piss in your Cheerios this morning?” I asked him teasingly. Jodi was his woman.
This got me a tip of the lip. “She does every fuckin’ morning.”
To this, Rocco and I laughed.
“One good thing is at least we’ll sell more booze tonight,” Stormy said, eyeing me.
“What?”
Stormy looked around the room. “They’re itchin’ to buy you a drink. Wolves circlin’.” He faced Rocco. “Anything happens to her, you’re responsible.” Stormy turned around and took off to go behind the bar. We sat, our backs to the wall and eyes among the crowd. It didn’t take long for Tiny to be over and take our drink orders, in which we ordered two each just because it was so packed. Tiny was the only waitress.
When she came back with several shots on the tray, Rocco said, “We didn’t order this.”
Tiny shook her head. “I can’t remember all the guys who sent these over.” She sat them one by one on the table. “They’re for Ms. Beauty Queen here.” Tiny set the last of thirteen shots down, then threw her arm out. “Guys bought them for ya.”
“Great. Thanks.” This meant we’d have a steady stream of men coming over to the table. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with it, but whatever.
I didn’t touch the shots. Drinking heavily when I knew I would have to face Dickhead it wasn’t a smart idea.
It wasn’t long before Rocco’s friends arrived. Sleazy, Dopey, and Dickhead. Okay so that wasn’t their real names, but they may as well be. Sleazy, also known as Nick, was a sleaze ball, always hitting on me, trying to wrap his arms around me like I was some kind of possession. Needless to say this never ended well. Him touching me was a no go, and his balls had been handed to him several times because of it.
Dopey, also known as Cale, was the epitome of Kurt Cobain in looks. Add in he was high all the damn time, it suited him well. He was mellow and easy to talk to. Him, I didn’t mind so much. The thing with Dopey was he was quite intelligent and knew more when he was high than when he was sober. Strange, but very true.
Dickhead was my ex. Oh
no, don’t let the dark hair, bright blue eyes, and rough exterior make you think he was a bad boy because he wasn’t. At all. Not even a little bad in the bedroom. Straight missionary. With his looks, one would think he’d have it going on. He didn’t.
True, he could hold a conversation, but sex was a huge part of a relationship, and no way in hell was I spending time with a man who lacked. There was no spark. It was as if it disappeared once I let him inside my body. That was a year and a half ago.
Dickhead, still texted me … regularly. I never responded.
And he was cheating on me on a dating website. The lucky skills of a tech woman.
I kept in my seat, giving them a small smile and wave, hoping I wouldn’t have to stab one of them in the thigh. Sleazy, the asshole, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me up from the chair. He smelled of stale beer and sex. Not a good combination.
Hand out, I pressed my thumb into his leg right where his sciatic nerve was located and pressed in hard. He let me go immediately as I smiled sweetly, yet deadly, and sat.
“Damn, woman,” he groaned. No worries, he’d get his feeling back quick enough. It was one move I learned to get away from assholes trying to hurt me. Men always thought they could overpower a woman. Yet, women had the power. We just had to learn what it was and how to use it.
Eyes, jaw, and groin were the top defenders. But the sciatic nerve worked perfect when your hands were at your sides and you couldn’t move them.
I wasn’t averse to using the top three, but a woman must go with the moment.
“You’re an idiot,” Rocco said, laughing his ass off, while they all sat at the table with us.
Dickhead grabbed the chair next to me and leaned over into my space. Everything inside of me wanted to punch him in the nose. He’d apologized a thousand times, but it never worked with me.
He said he never met the girl he was sexting … I called bullshit. Fuck him.
“Can we talk?” he asked with pleading eyes.
“No.” I waved my hand at all the shots on the table. “Drink and leave me alone.”
Reaching out, I grabbed Rocco. “Switch!”
He took one look at the two of us, got up, and let me in his spot. No way I needed to sit next to Dickhead all damn night and listen to his whining.
He had a chance at something not a lot of men got with me. I’d fully admit at being picky. When you grow up not trusting anyone, trusting a man was even harder. The one example I had in my early years taught me men were egomaniacs who couldn’t handle inferiority to anyone. Even as close as Rocco and I were, I still stayed hyperaware. Some things just couldn’t be shaken or retrained. Rocco had my back when no one else did, and I would forever be loyal to him, but that didn’t mean I didn’t keep my wits about me, even trusting him to take care of me.
One thing positive about all the guys around me, not many of the others who bought me drinks had the balls to come up and talk to me. This was funny to me. No way did I want a man who’d be scared off by the three stooges and Rocco.
“Where’s Stella?” Dopey asked, finally coming into the conversation and out of his fog. I had no clue what he was on, but whatever it was did its job.
It was if he beckoned her because she walked right through the crowd. I gave a small squee, jumped up, and wrapped my arms around her. Now she was able to hug me. Stella was beautiful from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. Her blonde hair fell down in sheets of layers and her makeup was done to perfection.
She always had a presence. Tonight though, she was going for broke. Short as hell skirt and a barely-there top was getting every man and woman’s attention in the place.
“So happy you could come,” I said into her ear as she squeezed me back. I shot her a text when I went to change my shirt. I didn’t check to see if she’d replied, but her being here made my night.
“Yeah, well work’s shit,” she said, pulling away and coming over to the table where she was greeted emphatically by the guys. Rocco was the only one she didn’t want to kill by the end of the hellos. Stella grabbed Sleazy’s chair and sat her round ass in it. I sure as hell hoped that skirt was made of stretchy fabric, or we were all in for a show.
“Tell me about it.”
Stella rolled her eyes. “Same shit different day. Two guys today. While I’m checkin’ out their shit, hit on me. Now normally, I’m cool with it. But one of them reached over the conveyer belt and grabbed my apron, trying to pull me over. Fucker.”
“Please tell me you hurt him.”
She shook her head. “Punched him in the nose. Why do people think they can touch you without permission?”
“Idiots.”
“You’re tellin’ me. Now here at the bar, I’m dancin’. I’m cool with a little touchin’. But at work. I’m at the fuckin’ grocery store.” She’d worked at the Corner Mart for years now as the manager. Every once in a while she had to work the register. That never ended well.
“Get yourself some,” I said on a smile and wink.
Her hand rested on my arm. “You and me both. We need to let loose and have fun.”
“No. I’m just drinkin’ tonight.”
“You’ve gotta dance with me.”
“Nope. You know I don’t like that shit.”
More like I hated that shit. It drew too much attention, something I stayed away from. Life on the streets taught me not to be seen or heard. The state didn’t have a great system for teens, and foster care was a nightmare I wouldn’t go back to. Before the shelter, I went from one bad place to the next. Then at the shelter, drawing attention could get you kicked out. I wasn’t trying to do that either. Nope, the less I could be noticed the better, even now.
After talking for a while, Stella had to get her groove on, leaving me with the guys. I kept my eye on her, but as she danced the smile was wide on her face.
The air in the bar changed. Like an electric current buzzed through every soul inside, taking their energy and attention, sucking the life out of the room. Christ, who the hell came in?
Music still played, but as the crowds parted, I knew instantly who it was. The Ravage MC. There were seven of them, and as they entered, several shook their hands, and women flocked to them.
One with a reddish tinge to his hair veered directly to Stella, wrapping her up tight. That was interesting. She was going to need to spill.
My breath caught at the sight of Wrong Way. In the ten months we’d been seeing each other, our paths had never crossed in public before. I really didn’t know how he would react. If he’d pretend he didn’t know me or if I should stay away.
It was different than an actual relationship. Fuck buddies didn’t invade anyone’s space.
A woman with beautiful light hair came up and punched Wrong Way in the shoulder. A gasp left me. What woman would just walk up to him and hit a man like him?
Wrong Way smiled at the woman, wrapped his beefy arm around her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head.
Jealousy hit me hard and unwanted.
Wrong Way was my other secret. One that no one knew but him. Not even Rocco or Stella knew. Not seeing him out in public with others, I could imagine he was just mine. He didn’t have other women in the outside world. It was just him and me.
With everyone around us laughing and having fun, I felt as if I was in a bubble away from it all, looking from the outside in. It was strange, and I didn’t like it.
The thought of Wrong Way being with another woman was a punch to the gut. While I knew it was there, not seeing it firsthand, I could pretend it didn’t exist.
Crow, the president of the Ravage MC, grabbed the woman, pulled her to him, and kissed her on the lips hard and deep. Wrong Way smiled as he watched them, and relief hit me. That wasn’t his woman.
It didn’t mean he didn’t have one. At least at the moment.
Fuck. This was why I stayed home. Did I mention that trust was a hard thing for me? He and I had an arrangement. Nothing more and he owed me nothing, but the thought o
f someone else touching him … it burned. He didn’t owe me loyalty, exclusivity. He didn’t owe me shit.
I repeated those words a few times in my head, and the coil inside me began to loosen, letting me breathe again. Never said I wasn’t fucked up.
Several women approached the men, giving them smiles and come hither looks. He returned many of them, but he didn’t leave his perch at the bar. If I went up and cut them, I wondered if Stormy would call the cops on me?
Dickhead nudged my arm, pulling me away from staring at the man sidled up to the bar. Wrong Way tipped his beer back, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob. Damn, why was that hot? I felt a nudge on my arm again.
“What?” It came out clipped.
Dickhead’s eyes went from me to the bar, back and forth. I didn’t give two shits what he thought, but I learned it was better for him to get out with it and be done.
“What’s up with you and them?”
My head shook. “Nothin’, mind your own damn business.”
His eyes narrowed. This was a side of him that I didn’t learn about until after we started dating. He was seriously jealous and didn’t hide it. “You’d better not be…”
My finger went up. “First—do not tell me what I’d better not be doing. I can do whatever in the fuck I want. Secondly—I’m not anything to you, so don’t make it seem like I am. Lastly—leave me alone. We didn’t work out. I will never want another shot with you.”
“You do.”
My head fell back against the wall, and I closed my eyes. Why did men have to be so stupid sometimes? This was why I didn’t people. Peopling meant I had to interact. Interacting meant I said shit that pissed other people off. Pissing people off meant a fight. I didn’t have the energy or inclination to fight with Dickhead tonight.
“Stop right there,” I growled, leaning into the table and allowing the anger to bubble through me. “I’m not some little wallflower you can push around. I told you I wasn’t interested. If you don’t heed those warnings, I will kill you.”
“Kill me?” His brow raised, and I leaned in even closer, my boobs knocking over a few of the empty shot glasses where Sleazy and Dopey indulged.