by Jessie Cooke
AJ easily recognized the man lying on his pillow, against the Egyptian cotton pillowcase, with his cock in AJ’s fiancée’s mouth. His name was Matt Spencer and he and Pamela worked closely on one of the most successful charitable organizations in Tempe, Arizona. They raised money for the arts and had recently helped open a children’s museum in the city. AJ watched as the man’s hands came up and groped for a handful of Pamela’s breasts. He couldn’t see those from his vantage point either, but like her butt, he’d paid for them so he knew they were nice. Pamela made a noise around the man’s cock to express her pleasure and still with his eyes closed, Matt smiled and said:
“You like when I pinch those nipples baby?”
“Yeah, she likes that,” AJ answered. Later on, he would wish he had been videotaping what happened next. It was comical, almost. Matt’s eyes flew open and immediately focused on AJ. Before Pamela could even react, Matt pushed her off him and she rolled away so quickly that if the bed hadn’t been ridiculously large, she might have hit the highly polished wood floor underneath. Now two pairs of eyes stared at him, but only for a second. Matt scrambled to disentangle himself from Pamela and AJ got an unwelcome glimpse of first, the man’s now softening cock and second, his too-white ass. The man was groping on the floor for his pants while Pamela pulled the sheet up to her neck and continued to stare at her fiancé. AJ kept his eyes on her face and he didn’t move, or say a word, even as he watched Matt get dressed, in his peripheral vision.
When Matt finally had his pants and shirt on, he grabbed his shoes and jacket up off the floor and that was when AJ finally looked at him. The man stood frozen, clutching his things to his chest. He looked terrified and AJ wondered if he’d think about this moment the next time he decided to fuck another man’s woman. Pamela was the one who finally spoke first:
“AJ, this isn’t about him. Let him pass.”
AJ moved his dark eyes back over to his fiancée. Even after deep-throating a cock, her hair and makeup looked fresh, but of course that was because most of it was fake. She had extensions in her hair that cost him hundreds of dollars a month to maintain. She’d had her eyelashes extended and those also cost a good amount to maintain. Her lips were colored with the best lipstick, the most expensive brands, the kind that advertised they stay on for twenty-four hours, no matter what. AJ could attest that wasn’t false advertisement. Even now as she wiped at the saliva that had gathered around the edges of her lips, the color didn’t smear or fade. Maybe he should invest in that company...
Matt Spencer finally spoke. “I’m sorry, man.”
AJ heard Matt’s voice crack as he spoke and he almost felt sorry for him. Matt Spencer was of average height and weight and from what he saw, a less than average sized penis. AJ was a big guy. He’d always been bigger than average, even when he was a boy. AJ stood six-foot-four and although he didn’t weigh in regularly the way he used to, he knew he sat right around two-fifty pounds. AJ went to college on a wrestling scholarship and right up until he injured his shoulder his senior year, everyone thought he had a professional career in front of him. Instead, AJ had taken over his father’s construction company when his dad was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and was in too much pain to make it to work every day. AJ didn’t just take over at the helm, he rolled up his sleeves and worked every day, and his body had stayed in shape because of it. He could easily crush Matt Spencer, if he was so inclined.
“AJ, let him pass!” Pamela said again, this time, demanding. It was the tone she used when she told him what to wear to one of her dinner parties. It was the tone she used when she told him he shouldn’t hang out with the laborers he supervised. It was the tone she used when she told him he should be sitting pretty in a fancy office in Phoenix or at least downtown Tempe, instead of following his crew around and working out of a single-wide trailer. It was the tone that said she thought she was smarter than him. AJ could usually ignore it, but that was because he thought he was doing his part to keep the peace. AJ’s parents were married for almost fifty years before his mother died. His father went to his grave still loving her. That was what AJ always wanted and it was the reason he went out of his way to avoid picking fights with Pam. He rarely heard his parents say a cross word to each other and he’d just assumed it was because they both wanted to see the other one happy. What he failed to realize, until the moment he found his fiancée salaciously sucking a cock in their bed, was that he had been the only one compromising all along.
AJ’s chest hurt as he made that realization. “You’re sorry?” he said, eyes focused on Matt again. The guy looked like he was going to piss his pants. AJ was used to his size intimidating people. Usually he kept a smile on his face, to try to offset it. But he wasn’t smiling now. He wanted this fiancée-fucking piece of shit to be nervous. He wanted him standing there imagining all of the things that AJ might do to him. Matt was nodding in answer to AJ’s question when he heard Pamela sigh from her spot on the bed. He switched his focus again. Pamela had an annoyed, almost bored look on her face. “Are we boring you?”
“Just stop, AJ, okay? Let Matt leave and we’ll talk about this.” AJ wasn’t a violent man and he was clearheaded enough to know that no matter how badly he wanted this piece of shit to suffer, hitting him would only complicate his life further. But Pamela knew him well enough to know that’s what he was thinking, and it pissed him off almost enough to go ahead and do it. He was on the verge of hurting a man just to prove a point to a woman who was using him. He almost laughed at how stupid it all was, especially when Pam said, “We’ll talk,” when what she really meant was, “We’ll have sex.” She thought her store-bought body solved all the world’s problems...but not this one, not this time. Just the idea of ever touching her again made him feel sick to his stomach.
With his eyes locked into hers he said, “We’ll talk? You think there’s anything you can say to make this better?” He was interested in her reply, but she was still looking to clear the room first...so she could work her “magic.”
“Just let Matt leave.”
“You’re afraid I’ll hurt your little lover? Is that it?” He looked at Matt again. The man’s face was bright red. He looked scared to death. AJ’s eyes dropped to the silver wedding band on Matt’s left hand and it gave him an idea about how to hurt the man without laying a hand on him. Of course, someone else ended up hurt too, but maybe in the long run he’d be doing her a favor. “You want to tell your wife about this, Matt? Or should I?”
Nearly choking on his own tongue Matt spat out, “I’ll tell her.”
AJ took a step inside the room, clearing the doorway. “Make sure you do,” he said, “or I will.” When Matt made no attempt to leave AJ said, “Are you waiting for an ass beating? Get the fuck out!” The little man ran past AJ so quickly that he felt a rush of air. He turned back to Pamela then and said, “I hope you can pay for this pretty apartment because I’m calling our realtor in the morning and having my name taken off the lease.”
“You can’t do that!” Pamela’s daddy had money when she was growing up. It was where she got her fancy ideas. When she was in high school, his business went belly up and for the next few years she actually had to work. To hear her tell it, they were the worst years of her life. When she met AJ he had owned the business for almost three years. They met at a banquet where he was receiving a community award for excellence in business. She was there with another man, but a week later she showed up in his little makeshift office at the construction site they were working. She told him the man she’d been with that night was simply a “friend,” and she asked AJ out. AJ realized now what a fool he’d been. The realization had come so slowly, however, that he was beginning to doubt his own intelligence. Pamela had obviously done her research before she walked into his office that day. She probably already knew his net worth. She’d been working him since the very beginning and he had let her. Maybe his ass was the one that needed to be kicked.
He smiled and said, “Simone and I do a lot o
f business together. She won’t bat an eyelash at doing this for me.” Simone was their realtor and he knew for a fact she’d let him out of the lease. Simone despised Pam and she’d actually suggested it to him, more than once. She’d told him to run far and fast before the day of their wedding arrived. AJ had just laughed it off every time, but now he wished he’d listened to her. Thank God this happened now and not after they were married. He could only imagine what Pamela would have taken him for in the process of a divorce. “Maybe Matt can pay the rent...oh wait, that’s right, Matt’s money is all his wife’s, isn’t it? Tsk-tsk...what a tangled web.” AJ walked over to the closet and before he opened it, he stopped to look at himself in the full-length mirror. He had worked for eight hours that day. It was supposed to be a sixteen-hour day, but they were having equipment problems so he’d called it early. Between his hours at work, and the time Pamela was putting in on the charity...or sucking cock, he supposed...they hadn’t had much time to spend together. He turned down an offer by his crew to go get a beer with them at one of the local bars, so he could get home, shower, and take Pamela out to dinner. He hadn’t called ahead because he wanted to surprise her and make a big night of it. At least he’d accomplished part of his plan. She was surprised for sure, they all were.
AJ stared at his own face, focusing on the stubble on his cheeks and chin. Pamela told him once that he looked like “a drunk old Indian” when he didn’t shave. That statement had hurt him, especially in light of the fact that his grandfather had been called that on more than one occasion near the end of his life. Still, AJ hadn’t stood up to her. He simply shaved to avoid making it a “thing.” He suddenly felt very ashamed of himself. He’d “compromised” on so many things, things that he should have never had to give up.
AJ’s Native American roots had almost been a deal breaker for Pam when she found out that AJ stood for Atsa Jacy. It was a proud name in his culture and it meant “Eagle Moon.” It was a name his father was proud of, and one that AJ used to be proud of as well. He only went by AJ because it was easier for people to pronounce...at first. But once Pamela came into his life, she was not only content to let people believe he was Italian as she first had, but she practically insisted upon it. His last name was Basillie, so that seemed to work. He saw the shame in his own eyes now as he realized he’d been willing to throw away the very core of who he was for a woman who would make a joke out of everything he thought they had.
“AJ?” Pamela came up behind him and he could see her in the mirror. She was still naked, and she had a seductive look on her face. She put her hands on his arms and ran them up underneath his sleeves to his shoulders. AJ stood there, watching her, in shock. Did she actually think so little of him that she believed she could seduce him after he’d just caught her on her knees, sucking another man’s dick?
She laid her head against his back and said, “Baby, I made a mistake. Please, don’t throw away what we have because of one mistake.”
“Pamela?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Do you remember that video I showed you from the championship wrestling tournament at AU?”
She pulled her head up and he could see her frown in the mirror. She’d hated the video. His wrestling was another source of embarrassment for her. “Yes.”
Softly, but firmly, he said, “I’ve never put my hands on a woman in anger before, but right now all I can see in my head is that move, where I picked the guy up over my head and tossed him out into the audience. I’d probably never do that to you...but...” She let go and took a step back. AJ pulled a canvas bag out of the closet and threw a few things into it. He knew Pam couldn’t pay for the apartment, so he’d wait until she left to come back for the rest of his things. He wasn’t going to live there. He could stay in his trailer, or a hotel for now. The apartment was as much of a reminder that he’d been a fool as Pam’s face was at that moment, and he wouldn’t care if he never saw either one of them again.
3
Lake Havasu
Jace, Streak, and Toad walked into the bar just as the waitress was turning the sign. “Sorry, guys, we’re closed.” Jace’s eyes were on the man still sitting in the corner booth. All he could see was his dark hair and part of his profile. Jace looked at Streak and he nodded. He scanned the rest of the bar. Two women sat at a table just to the right of Garibaldi and there were still three men at the counter.
“Aw, it’s only 1:52,” Streak said. “Don’t y’all serve ’til 2:00?” While Streak was talking to her, and Toad was moving in as close as he could get without scaring her off, Jace started over toward the man in the booth.
“Last call was at 1:45,” the waitress said.
“There a problem, Carrie?” A short, stocky, balding man stepped out from behind the bar.
“No problem,” Streak said. “I just thought since all these folks were finishing up their drinks, you might see your way to pouring one more beer.” Jace could hear them as he approached Garibaldi, but his eyes were on the dark-haired man. Just as he stepped up to the table, the man pulled his hand out from under it and set it on top. He was holding a nine-millimeter pistol.
“You might want to turn around and leave right now.”
Jace stepped around where he could see the man’s face. It was definitely Eugene. “Nah, sorry, Eugene, but you came all the way out to Arizona for nothing.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Behind them Jace heard someone yell about the man having a gun and he could hear Streak herding the customers out and the man behind the bar demanding to know what was going on. He figured they had about ten minutes at the most before all the 911 calls people were making drew the cops.
“My name’s not important. All you need to know is that I’m taking the girl and you have two choices—you can leave here right now alive, or in about ten minutes when the police get here, in a body bag. It’s up to you.”
“Fuck you,” Eugene said. Before he could raise his gun, Jace had his out and pressed into the side of the man’s head.
“Put it down.”
Still gripping his gun tightly, Garibaldi said, “Do you know who the fuck you’re messing with?” Jace heard a scuffle behind him, and a scream. He heard Streak cussing, but he still didn’t turn around. He heard another scream and Streak called out Toad’s name. Toad cursed too and said:
“She fucking bit me!” Seconds later, with his gun still pressed into Eugene’s head, Jace heard the sound of Finn’s thick Irish accent. He’d come in somewhere along the way and was trying to soothe the woman. She sounded like she was giving them one hell of a fight. Still, Jace kept his eyes on Eugene and said:
“I always know who I’m fucking with, and your time’s up. You want to leave here alive tonight?” The sounds of the scuffle behind him continued, even as he began to hear the sounds of sirens in the distance. Eugene heard them too, and he smiled.
“I think I’ll just wait and leave with the cops, after I watch them throw your big ass down and cuff you.”
“That wasn’t one of the options,” Jace said. He pulled the hammer back on the old .357 he had bought specifically for this trip. On the way home, the guns they were all carrying tonight would disappear and even if the cops somehow tracked the Skulls down, they wouldn’t find anything incriminating once they got there.
Jace saw Eugene flinch. He wouldn’t be surprised to see piss running out of his pant leg any second. “My old man will fuck you up.”
“Too bad you won’t be around to see it.” The room behind him was completely silent now but the sirens were getting closer.
“Wait,” Eugene said, finally letting go of the gun he’d been gripping. “You’ve got the girl. You let me go and maybe the old man won’t kill you.”
Jace laughed, raised the gun, and brought it down on the back of Eugene’s head. He watched him slump forward, picked up the nine-millimeter, and headed for the door of the bar. He heard the rev of motorcycle engines and even before he saw his bike in front of the bar, he knew it would be there
, running. He counted bikes and men, and one feisty little waitress who was now cuffed up and tucked into the sidecar on Boot’s Harley. She was screaming at the top of her lungs, but the bikes and the sirens drowned out whatever she was saying.
Jace kicked up his kickstand and popped the bike into gear before revving the throttle and taking off around the back of the bar. The five men followed him and by the time the police cars screeched to a halt in front of the bar and found the owner cuffed up out front and Eugene knocked out inside, they were at least a half a mile away. Their job was a success and nobody died. Jace only hoped that once he delivered the girl to Wolf, his club’s part of whatever this was would be over.
Tempe, Arizona
Atsa was never a big drinker. His grandfather was an alcoholic so he grew up listening to his father pontificate on the evils of alcohol, especially when it came to mixing with the blood of a Native American. But tonight, he needed a drink, a big one. He got into his car, his two-door, four-seat Maserati GranTurismo, the one he never wanted to buy, but did, because Pamela practically insisted. When AJ met her, he was driving a 1999 GMC pickup. It held his toolbox, and the old white paint job was so beaten up already that he didn’t have to worry about dents or dings on the job site. She told him that if he continued to act like he was nothing more than a construction assistant, he would continue to be treated as such. Truthfully, he’d only been a construction assistant one summer while attending college. Once he finished college he had a BA degree and he was considered a structural engineer with the company before his father died. He didn’t feel like he needed to show off to his employees or his customers, but it was one of those things where he just let Pam have her way. It wasn’t worth arguing about, or so he’d thought at the time. Now as he drove the hundred-thousand-dollar-plus car down the highway alongside people who were probably struggling to keep up with their three-hundred-dollar-a-month car payments, he just felt silly.