by Jaci J.
“Lala!” She flinches and moves away from the window. Shit.
“I promise I’ll fix it. Please don’t be pissed,” she pleads.
What? Why the fuck would she think I would be pissed over a goddamn window? If she wants to drive the damn thing off a cliff, that’s fine with me, as long as her ass jumps out before it goes over.
She goes to put the keys in the ignition, ready to leave, but I’m not having that shit. She’s gonna talk, so I reach in and snatch the keys away from her, tossing them over the gate. They land inside the fence on the cement with a clink. She’s not fucking leaving yet.
“Don’t give a fuck about the window, Lala, but what I do give a fuck about is that you’re outside my club at one in the goddamn morning. You’re bleedin’, wet, ‘n sleepin’ in your car. Now, get the fuck outta the car. I’m taking you inside.” I’m done with this questions and no answers bullshit.
****
“This is gonna hurt,” I tell her. She’s sitting on the bar top with me sitting between her legs. It’s hard as fuck to focus on what I’m doing with her straddling me. Tags is standing at her side, holding a first aid kit, looking bored as fuck.
“Here,” he says, handing me a cotton ball covered in alcohol.
I wrap a hand around the side of her neck to hold her still. She flinches when the alcohol soaked cotton ball touches her cut cheek, and I hate the fact that I’m putting her in any kind of pain. I really hate the fact that somebody did this to her.
“I’m sorry, babe, but I gotta clean the cut.” Nodding her head, she squeezes her eyes shut and bites down on her bottom lip.
I try to be careful, but I know that shit is going to sting and burn like a bitch. Being this close to her face just drives home how fuckin’ beautiful she is, and how very pissed off I am having to see her like this.
Touching the cotton ball to her cheek, she immediately jerks her head out of my hands. “Shit!”
“Stop fuckin’ movin’.”
“God! It stings like acid,” she yells at me.
“Jesus Christ. It ain’t that bad, babe.”
“Easy for you to say, tough guy,” she narrows her eyes and grumbles at me. Mouthy ass woman.
I try again, but she just can’t sit still, “Stop bein’ so goddamn twitchy. It’ll only sting for a second, but you’ll live. I’ll fix ya up ‘n you’ll be good as new.” Giving me one good glare from those deep blue beauties, she closes her eyes and sighs.
After taking care of her, I take her to my room, give her one of my t-shirt’s to wear, then I hit the shower. I’m gonna give her a few minutes to pull her shit together and she’s gonna talk.
Not even fifteen minutes have passed before I come out of the bathroom to find her asleep in my bed, making herself right at home. She’s lying on her side, wrapped up in a mess of sheets and blankets. She made quick work of making a mess of the bed, but it’s like she put herself in a bubble of blankets and pillows.
She’s fucking beautiful with her blonde hair all over the place and her half naked body lying in my bed. The thought of crawling up in there with her, wrapping myself around her sounds so tempting. I want my hands on her so fucking bad.
I’ve got no fucking clue what to do next. There’s only one reason a bitch is ever in my bed, and after I fuck ‘em, they know to get the fuck out. There is no cuddling, no kissing, and no sweet nothings from me. You get my dick, you get off, and you get gone.
Staring at Lala in my bed makes me feel something completely different. Looking at her fucks with me in a way I’ve never been fucked with before. There’s not a goddamn thing in this world that would get me to move her right now. I won’t admit it out loud, but I like seeing her in my bed. She may not belong there, but I’ll be damned if she doesn’t look good in it.
“Who the fucks that?” Arms asks as he sticks his head through the door, cutting into my thoughts. He sees what I’m looking at and smiles at the parts of her body that aren’t under the blanket. Fucking pervert. I can’t even leave my fucking door open without nosey fucks thinking it’s ok to just walk the fuck on in. I should’ve known better than to leave it open when I went to shower.
“A friend, now fuck off.” He looks at me like he doesn’t believe a goddamn word I’m saying.
“A friend, my ass. You not fuckin’ that hot piece of ass, send her to my room. I’ll fuck her real good.” Shoving him out of my room, I slam the door in his face. Asshole. “The offer still stands, brother.”
“Stay the fuck away from her, Arms,” I holler through the closed door. I hear him walking away, laughing his ass off. Fuck this. I decide to let her get some rest… for now.
I tried to stay out of that damn room as long as I possibly could. I sat at the bar and had a few drinks with Arms and Gin. I watched some TV. Hell, I even played a game of pool. I killed two hours – two sad, pathetic hours, but I couldn’t stay out here forever.
Standing in my doorway, I debate on what to do. It’s been a packed house here tonight, meaning that there isn’t a damn place to sleep in this club. Every room is full. There are even people sleeping on the couches in the main room and the loft. I could go home, but than Lala would be here alone and that shit is not a good idea. She’d be fine if it was just my brothers, but there are guys from another club here tonight, hence the packed house. I don’t trust any of those motherfucker’s around her.
I’m tired.
I go to my room and ay my ass down in bed, making sure I keep to my side. If I touch her, I might not be able to stop myself. I’ll wake her ass up and have my way with her, and I know she won’t say no.
****
A while later I wake up to Gin beating down my door, “Get up, fucker! Church in thirty!”
Looking over to my side, Lala is snuggled right up against me. I’m lying on my back and she’s turned away from me, but her back and ass are nestled close into my side. Can’t say that I hate it.
“Rampage, let’s go man.”
“I hear ya, dammit. Stop banging down my fucking door and I’ll be there in a second.”
Church was church, same old shit. After it was over, I stuck my head into my room to check on Lala, but she was still out cold, so I let her be. She must be tired.
I did some work in the shop, had lunch, drank some beers and made plans to help Gin later on. Killed about six hours and I still hadn’t heard or seen her since I left her in bed. I figured once she woke up she’d come out. Guess I was wrong.
Going back into my room, she’s still in the bed, in the exact same spot I left her in. It doesn’t look like that girl has moved. Fuck. Did she die on me?
I remember her cut and busted up lip and I start thinking maybe something more was wrong with her. How fucking sick would it be if she crawled in my bed and died? Jesus Christ.
I rush over, sitting down on the bed and reach a hand out to check her pulse. She’s alive, thank fuck.
“Lala?” I whisper, but I get nothing from her.
I throw out a little prayer and try that shit again, “Babe, ya gotta wake the fuck up,” She starts to move a little, so I bend down and study her face.
She cracks an eye open and looks at me through a mess of hair and long lashes. Even looking rough, she’s beautiful.
“Lala?” She doesn’t say anything, but she smiles at me. It’s some cute little sleepy smile that makes me smile right back at her. Fuck me.
Turning over, she throws her arms above her head and stretches that long, lean body of hers, pulling my shirt up just below her tits and and fuck if I don’t stare. Her underwear are pink and skimpy, begging to be ripped off her body so I can have a taste of her.
“Mornin’, Rampage.” She says softly. I could wake up to that shit every day. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Fuck, babe. You’ve been out, for like, fifteen hours.”
Sitting up, she pulls the shirt down and scoots up against the wall. “Wow. I’m really sorry for just taking over your bed. I don’t get much sleep, if any these days.”
&
nbsp; She doesn’t get much sleep? Why the fuck not?
“So, thank you for taking me in and letting me sleep in here. I’m starting to rack up quite a debt with you.”
I watch her eyes drop and her face change, but she says it again, very softly, “Thank you for everything, Rampage.” She sure the fuck knows how to undo me with just a few words.
Lala
I wake up with Rampage saying my name, looking down at me. All I can do is smile at his beautiful face, and I get a smile from him in return. He should definitely smile more often. Once he brought me to his room last night, all I could see was his warm, comfortable bed, and a welcome feeling of safety. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but my body just completely shut down on me and I couldn’t hold myself up any longer. I never took Rampage for a guy who would have such a big, comfy bed with lots of blankets and pillows.
It had been such a long week between school, work and Ryan. He won’t leave and I won’t sleep when he’s there. I have even driven out to busy parking lots, hoping to just get lost in the sea of vehicles and get a little bit of sleep when I could. I had nothing and no one, so I’ve learned to just deal with it and take things as they come.
Ryan had decided my place was as good as any to crash at. For the first day or two, it was okay. He didn’t bother me much and I stayed out of his way, but I knew he was biding his time, waiting for me to do or say the wrong thing, and without any help from me, it happened last night. He’s extremely aggressive when he he’s high and drunk.
He was so wasted, he could barely talk, let alone walk. He walked in demanding things from me that I wasn’t willing to give him. I stood my ground until he flung me down on the couch and started ripping at my clothes. He’s taken a lot from me over the years, but he will never take my body again.
I punch him hard in the face, but of course, he pulls back and hits me twice as hard in the jaw. Thank God he was so fucked up because I was able to get away from him and into my car before he could catch me. While I was jumbling with the keys I grabbed from the table at the front door, he had time to grab a rock and smash it through the window, effectively hitting me in the face before I was able to drive away. I’d gladly take hits to the face before I ever let that piece of shit fuck me again.
I drove around for a while. Once the adrenaline finally started to wear off, I knew I couldn’t keep driving, but I had nowhere to go. I have no family, no friends. Lil is my only friend, and she is out of town. My home was out of the question and I didn’t want to waste money for even a cheap motel. I was out of options. That big compound of cinderblock, steal, chain link fences and rough men was the only place I could think of. If I was careful, maybe I could park close and just try to get some rest. The thought of being close to those walls felt safer than anywhere else I could possibly think of. They were nice to me once before, so I prayed if they found me outside their compound, they wouldn’t hurt me. They may not be the safest bet, but I was living on a prayer when I pulled up, parked my car and got comfortable with a small blanket and a ball bat that I had stowed away in the back.
I took a chance. I don’t know what could happen to me here, but I’m more afraid of dying at the hands of Ryan. As twisted as it may be, I would rather die at the hands of a stranger than give Ryan the satisfaction of taking one more thing from me. I’m tired of fighting and being backed into a corner, but I have officially run out of options. I’m also hoping this isn’t an even bigger mistake.
****
“You hungry?” Rampage asks from the side of the bed. He watches me like I’m a caged animal, ready to lose my shit at any moment. His unease makes me a little uneasy, but not uneasy enough to get up and leave.
I am hungry. Shit’s been so crazy that I forgot to eat. “I could eat,” I tell him tentatively. My answer rewards me with a nice lazy grin, a grin I really like seeing.
“Get some shit on and we’ll go.”
“I don’t have clothes with me,” I say with a shrug.
Rampage stands up from the bed and nods, “Know that. Talked to Sis this mornin’ and she’s got shit in her room.” He talked to Lil? I would feel strange borrowing her stuff without asking her myself.
“No, that’s alright. I’m not as hungry as I thought.”
Rampage gives me a hard, unforgiving stare. Crossing his arms he looks annoyed, “Use her shit. Don’t make me tell Sis you said no. No one needs that girl pissy.” Walking to the door, he throws it open, “Come on.”
I follow without a word, because frankly, Rampage intimidates me and I don’t want to piss him off. We walk down a long hall dotted with doors. All closed, all with these little silver numbers on them. I wonder what they mean, but I’m not stupid enough to ask.
The door we come to is at the end. It reads, one in shiny silver. Pulling keys out of his pocket, he unlocks the door and pushes it open for me, “It’s all in the closet. She said her girly shit is in the bathroom, too.” Nodding toward the closet, he adds, “Get some shit, babe.”
The small closet is dominated with women’s clothes, along with tiny boy outfits. Only a few items of men’s clothing hang on the bar. Sorting through Lil’s stuff, I feel Rampage’s intense gaze on me, watching every movement, so I hurry it up.
I pick a soft light blue V-neck t-shirt and a pair of white shorts. My blue chucks will match just fine. Piling the clothes in my arms, I hit the bathroom next. Taking what I need, I follow Rampage back to his room. Once inside, he points to the door in the corner and grunts, “bathrooms in there. Use whatever ya want. Get ready ‘n come find me when you’re done.”
I shower and get ready quickly. I use his soap, but sadly, there’s no shampoo. I throw on my clothes, sans panties next. Borrowing panties is never okay, so I’m rocking commando.
Looking in the mirror, I see the nice new addition to my face. A lovely three-inch cut, right under my eye stares back at me. It’s a beauty, but it’s not one of his finer jobs. Regardless, it’s still nasty, but I have sunglasses big enough to hide it pretty well.
Toothbrush. Shit, I need a toothbrush. Opening and closing drawers and cupboards, I don’t find any spares. Rampage’s sits in the holder, staring me down. I think about it and decide fuck it, and I brush my teeth with his toothbrush. I don’t feel bad or wrong about it. I braid my hair to the side in a messy braid and slip on my chucks… and I’m ready.
I make my way down the long hall, hearing voices and music filtering through from the living space. Walking into the large open room, all conversations stop and all eyes land on me. I feel like squirming under their stares, but I keep it in check.
I scan the room and find Rampage standing by the bar across the room. The redhead leans against him, talking closely, but his eyes are on me. Stepping away from the woman, he walks toward me, not giving her a second look. She glares at me, but I just ignore her, too. She’s the woman from the first night I met Rampage. Red, I think is what they called her.
Throwing an arm around my shoulders once he reaches me, he looks down at me with a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his lips. For a minute he stares and I feel awkward. The need to say something, anything, nags at me, “I used your toothbrush.” Why did I just say that?
Cracking a small lazy grin, he says, “Good to know.” I’m such a dumbass, but at least it earned me a smile.
He walks us toward the front door while everyone just stares. Most seem shocked, and some seem a little confused. I keep my head down and my eyes on the ground, hoping to draw as little attention to myself as possible.
He keeps his arm around my shoulders till we get to his motorcycle, where I see the Chevy parked next to a row of bikes with the window fixed. He fixed it? When?
Walking over, I peek inside and the car is cleaned of any glass. It’s like it was never broken.
“You fixed it?” I squeak out, trying to choke back tears as I run my hand over the new window. I know he heard it in my voice, but I don’t want him to see all the emotions I have going through me right now. No one ever does
shit for me, but here’s Rampage, turning into my saving grace.
“Yep,” he says.
“Thank you, Rampage.” Nodding, he goes about messing with his motorcycle. Thank you just doesn’t seem like enough.
“Really, thank you. I don’t know how to repay you for what you’ve done for me.”
Looking over his shoulder he nods again, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, babe.”
I don’t know what to do or say, so I just watch him for a second while he crouches down and works on his bike. Sticking a silver tool back into the side of his bike, he gets up and comes over to me.
Lifting his chin at the bike he asks, “You ride?” I shake my head no. “Imma get on, and you get on behind me,” he tells me plainly. A mix of anxiety and excitement come over me. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before. I watch his jeans stretch and pull over his thick legs as he lifts himself over the bike. Looking back at me, he jerks his head for me to come over to him once he’s settled.
“Put your hands on my shoulders for support. Throw your leg over ‘n you’ll be good.”
I do as he tells me. It’s not nearly as graceful as he was, but I don’t land on my ass, so I’d call it a success.
“Lean into me,” he demands shortly.
I do, but I try to give him his space. I don’t know where to put my body. I’m not sure of where to put my hands either, so I fold them in front of me. Should I sit back or forward, right or left. Where the hell do my feet go? Oh Jesus.
“Umm…”
He shakes his head at me and chuckles. The sound stops me in my hunt for the perfect riding position. He doesn’t laugh, but hearing him makes me smile. He just shakes his head when he realizes I’m staring at him.
Reaching back, he wraps both hands around my thighs, tugs me close and lifts my legs to place my feet on the foot pegs. God, he smells so good – clean and fresh, with a hint of cologne.
“You need to stay just like that.”
With one last squeeze of my leg, he lets go. I almost grab his hands and put them back, wanting the contact. My thoughts are immediately blasted away from the roar of the bike as he starts it up.