by Rayne O'Gara
I did the right thing. I did the right thing.
Then why does it hurt so damn much?
Wood
“Fucking bitch!”
I shout the words into the wind slapping my face as I push my bike faster and faster down the highway, daring the cops to fucking try to stop me. What the fuck was I thinking this morning? I forgot how alluring it was to wake up wrapped up in the arms of a woman you thought was welcoming. Shit, years. Years I fucking kept away from bullshit like that. I fuck the bitch, I get gone. Ten years I’ve not stayed one fucking night with a woman. Not one. Until her.
What is it inside me that is so fucked up, I let my guard down with back stabbing, vicious cunts? I’m apparently hardwired only to want shit from those kind of women. I thought maybe Noelle was different.
Fuck!
Noelle, shit even just thinking her goddamned name brings her into full living color. Not the warm excited so fucking eager to please bitch my cock lived in last night, but the sneering in contempt side she showed us this morning. Two faced. Deceitful. Fuck I have had a lot of fucking pussy in my life, but not fucking once have I ever made a woman feel used in the way Noelle just fucking made me feel.
I woke up feeling fucking good. A good that hadn’t settled in my bones so deeply in a long motherfucking time. Fuck, she matched me in everything I threw at her last night, even came up with a few on her own that shocked even me. I lied about the lousy fuck, of course I did. She doesn’t need to know that even pissed way the fuck off at her, I still crave that wild pussy. I made her fucking coffee. Had words with Cave about seeing her again. Me! Wanted a double tap. Never fucking happens like that. Her face when she realized we were still there, a sweet startled look that turned into pure ugliness. Then that bitch while kicking me out touches my fucking colors? Then turns her nose up at my family? The same cock she sucked and fucked freely the night before made her sick to her stomach in the bright harsh light of day. Two faced bitch. Just fucking like Sara.
I need to get to the clubhouse. A bottle of Jack and a go round. Cave better be right the fuck behind me because I need bare knuckles and no one gives a better challenge than that motherfucker.
Chapter Five
Noelle
The Tylenol scratches my throat as I swallow the small pills dry. My headache will soon be classified as a migraine if I can’t get a handle on it. I need to go lay down in the dark for a bit, but the hardware stores financial books scattered over my backroom desk demand my time. Normally I don’t have an issue with numbers, sometimes they calm me, but today they are all blurring together in a jumble of black squiggles. I can’t concentrate.
Guilt is eating away at me. Two weeks of my normal routine, of every day-to-day life has passed. Sleep, eat, work, watch my favorite nightly shows, and repeat. And still I can recall their upset faces from my hatefulness like I spouted it out a minute ago. The problem of not wanting to see them again was well taken care of, but damn. Did I have to be such a bitch? My emotions were running so high at the time. I know that’s not a good enough reason to say and act the way I did, and I hate myself for it. Constant replaying of that morning has been haunting me. Proving that my mother may be dead, but her legacy of nastiness and insults is alive and growing inside me. To embrace her nature, something I swore to never become, and hurt scary but good men only for selfish reasons was, is, killing me.
First chance that I find I am apologizing to them for my words and actions. They hate me. Oh I very much know that they hate me and never want to see me again, but if I ever see one or both of them and I can grab just a second of their time, I am saying sorry. I still cannot have them in my life, can’t have anyone in my life beyond what I have already given, but they need to hear how sorry I am for acting that way.
That night together was incredible. They didn’t do anything wrong and I treated them like a nasty bug I stepped on and had to scrape off my shoe. I will apologize. I will hopefully lessen some anger and if I’m lucky they can one day forgive the dumb bitch I was, if they haven’t forgotten about me already.
A wave of sadness washes over me to settle like a stone in my gut at that thought.
Stop it.
Do not go there.
It makes no sense to feel so depressed when thinking of them forgetting all about me, especially after what I had done. If it was me I would try to push that awfulness so deep in my psyche it would never again see the light of day. So why when I think of them doing the same with memories of me does it hurt so badly?
I shake my head, hoping to throw away my thoughts. Placing my ear buds that are attached to my phone into my ears, I start up my playlist. I relax into the slow intro of “Human” by Christina Perri, but soon start to tear up at her lyrics.
It’s going to be all right soon. I will apologize. I will one day be able to swallow my guilt. And then maybe look upon our time together with a smile instead of a tear streaked face.
My headache starts to, finally dissipate and I look back to the somewhat sorted numbers on my desk. I have a job to do, then I can figure out a way to approach Wood and Caveman. I silently send up a prayer to any deities that may be listening at the moment that I will get my chance to set things right.
Caveman
I’ve lost my mind. That’s the only reasoning behind why the fuck I am parking my bike outside of Cruze Hardware Store. The bitch is fucking haunting me. Last night was a goddamned joke that turned into a disaster. All I wanted was to wipe her from memory just like the rest of them. All of them so easily forgotten. A distant memory as soon as their door slammed shut behind me after taking my pleasure. So what was it about that feisty blonde that caught me by the short and curlies and won’t let go? Shit I tried last night. Went to Road Hogs with a few brothers. Scoped the place. Wound up in one of the backrooms with an eager redhead with tits for fucking three of my handfuls and the juiciest looking nipples. Her cunt gushed on my fingers and the feel of her nails scoring my arms hardened my dick. I watched her quickly roll the condom onto me, us both ready for a fast hard fuck, but when I looked up into her face as I fisted myself inches away from her drenched hole, her green eyes changed to brown. Her huge heaving breasts shrunk to the perfect handful. The bitch in front of me changed shape into Noelle.
What a mindfuck.
After that bullshit, my cock hardened even more in my hand, eager to take what it desperately wanted, the only fucked up problem was when the bitch started moaning for me my stomach turned. Pulling up my jeans, I painfully tucked my junk back into place and beat leather out of there. Noelle’s grip on me is so fucking tight, I can’t even get my dick wet with some random pussy.
After kicking us out and saying that shit to Wood, I was ready to almost strangle her myself. Just because we wear leather and prefer the freedom of a Harley instead of a car doesn’t mean we don’t fucking feel anything or we aren’t an actual person. She went all upper crust blue blood on us and I was ready to say my own piece, until that fucking tear fell. Until I witnessed her almost collapse at her own actions. On the ride back to the clubhouse where I knew Wood would be heading, I replayed everything that morning, from her entrance into the kitchen till the broken sobs I heard after shutting the door behind me. The truth was hidden behind the well-played act. Her honest reaction to seeing us there, shock then fear. Panic in her eyes before grabbin’ up our shit. Shock when she touched me before dropping the mask. Each flinch of her eyes and twitch of her hands right before she spouted off that bullshit like it hurt her to say it.
Even with this knowledge, I still was going to keep my distance. It all was a big fat fucking act to purposely piss us off and scare us away from contacting her again. Why? That question over and over haunted me enough to bring it up to Wood. To make him see through the hurt to what I saw. But his shit is still so fucked up from that bitch, Sara, my words didn’t penetrate. But I’m damned sure something needs to get through to him about Noelle because she wouldn’t have cut this fucking deep without a reason. She got to hi
m. And she fucking got to me.
That’s why I’m here. To discover why that after two fucking weeks I can still taste her. Still feel the hot silky clench of her tight pussy. Still see the hot flash of desire in her deep almost whiskey colored eyes, begging me to fuck her again. The courage to protect herself, I don’t agree with the way she did it, fuck no, but courage it was. Her vulnerability along with her sizable set of proverbial balls, sparked my interest in a way that no other has before. No random whore. Noelle.
I have to know more about her. Her secrets. Dreams. Desires.
Fuck. Me.
I sound like a fucking Valentine’s day Hallmark card.
Killing my bike’s engine by the curb and dropping the kickstand, I run my scarred hand over the red and gold phoenix tattoo on the back of my head that’s visible through my buzzed black hair. The words ‘From the ashes I have been reborn’ scroll down my neck from ear to ear and arch along my shirt line. A message seen whether I’m dressed or shirtless. I wanted nothing covering it from wondering eyes.
Speaking of eyes, I roll mine at the nosey gawkers walking the sidewalk and crack my neck side to side. Like they’ve never seen a fucking biker before and I’m a rare and new freak show hittin’ town. With my scars, ink, cut, and downright glowering façade, maybe I am a freak to these wholesome people. Compared to me they are wholesome; no matter what skeletons hide in the darkest corners of their closets. My shit is fucked up.
What the fuck am I doing here?
Why would I even want to try with a woman like Noelle?
Fuck it. I want her. I’m not honorable or a gentleman. I’m not self-sacrificing or unselfish.
Not anymore.
The man I once was is gone, dead. I get what I want now. Or I take it.
The door dings when I push it open, alerting the salesperson to my presence. Walking up to the counter I take in the older man shrewdly. Salt and pepper hair. Nervous eyes. About six inches shorter than my six foot five inches. Slightly overweight. No real outward appearance of strength.
No threat.
“Can I help you find something?” The man’s voice shakes slightly in his question. By the twitch of his left eye I can tell he wishes he was anywhere but here, with me. Is his fight or flight instinct about to kick in? I chuckle inwardly. I’ll give him ten more second before he chooses flight and scrambles away like a little bitch.
“Noelle,” I demand in an almost growl, my voice raspy and rusty from disuse. You wouldn’t call me much of a talker. Conversations are useless. Once again I wonder what the fuck I’m doing here. Trying to get to know a woman means conversations. Talking. Shit, I’m no good at it.
The man in front of me narrows his eyes. “What do you want with her?”
“Not your business. She here or not?” Last time I’m asking. I’m not a patient person. Next I’ll just check the store and find her my own goddamned self without the information this fuckwit is withholding from me.
Said fuckwit leans over the counter and glares at me. “My daughter is always my business. Answer my question or get the hell out of my store.” His tone is angry and low, his eyes locked onto mine.
Hmmm…I misjudged him. That doesn’t happen often. His courage is commendable I will give him that, but he is still standing between me and what I want. That’s a dangerous position to be in. “Your kid or not, she’s an adult, still not your business. But I will tell you that I am not here to hurt her, in any way.” I wait while he does his own onceover of my person before nodding.
“She is in the backroom.” He points down a hallway behind the counter. “If I hear so much as a squeak of distress come from that room I will call the police and grab my shotgun.”
The corner of my mouth twitches in amusement. Completely misjudged. I like this old man. I nod my head while walking past him down the hallway. The office door sits not two feet from the exit door in the back of the hallway. My neck and shoulders tighten. There’s not even an alarm on the exit. What a joke in security. The old man needs to fucking step up. He shows protectiveness in his child but puts her in a room, alone, away from him and next to a door that anyone could walk into or out of with no one the wiser. Was there even a security camera?
Jesus, this woman is already more of a hassle.
The door opens silently after twisting the knob followed by a push and I quickly scan the small room. White walls, fake trees in two corners, one lonely chair, desk, file cabinet, and Noelle lightly singing to whatever music is playing through pink ear buds while her eyes skim paperwork and her fingers click on the keys of the ancient looking computer. Tech, the club’s resident hacker, would have a seizure if he saw this stone age shit.
I close the door behind me just a quietly as it opened and lean back against the cool wood before crossing my arms over my chest. My eyes rove over her working form as I wait for her to be alerted to my presence. I’m a big fucking guy, it really shouldn’t take her long.
Her soft hair is pulled up into a tight uncomfortable looking ponytail with a pencil sticking out from the whatever you fucking call the thing that keeps the hair up, scrotum, scrunchit, the fucking hair holder whatever. Black frame glasses set on her straight little nose that keep sliding down to the tip before she pushes them back up. Her soft voice is sweet, filling the air with her songs. She is cute.
Cute? I have to stop the gag in the back of my throat at that word. What the fuck is this woman doing to me!?
Glancing at the clock on the wall, the big fuckers that remind me of the ones you see in a high school, my teeth start grinding. Twenty minutes. She has been oblivious to everything around her, including me, for twenty fucking minutes. Does she have any self-preservation at all? Does she not care about her safety at all? Jesus fucking Christ.
I dropped my arms and shoved them into my jean pockets, the leather of my cut creaking at my swift movements. Her head snapped up. Her eyes widened in shock as she takes my presence in.
About fucking time.
Her hand quickly pulls down on her earphones and she whips off her glasses. “Wh-what are you doing here?” her shocked voice stutters and damn my lips for twitching at her cuteness. That word in my vocabulary turns my smirk into a scowl.
“Caveman?”
I jerk my head up at her. I heard her. Jesus, what am I about to do here?
“Why are you here?” she asks again, nervously.
“I want to see you.” There it is. In a nutshell of what I want. Stick to the basics.
“To see me?” I nod at her question and wait silently.
Confusion clouds her eyes for a second or two. “Like, like you want to look at me for a minute then leave or see me as in dinner, movies, date me see me?”
“All the above.” The confusion clears and is replaced by shock at my words.
“No.” Her head shakes in silent denial to emphasize her verbal denial. Her body shrinks back into her chair slightly and tenses. If she thinks I will explode like Wood did, then she is very wrong. Wood is explosive, I’m more of a hold a grudge implosive person. She would be waiting a very long time. I do what I do best, stare at her. I look into her eyes trying to read her mind. I watch her facial features, like her rapid blinking and her nibbling on her bottom lip. I watch her body language, like her hands tugging on each other then moving to fidget with her glasses. Wait her out.
“I can’t, I’m sorry.”
I stay silent. I stay still. Her fidgeting becomes more prominent.
“Please. I just can’t. We can’t.” Her voice cracks silently and I inwardly smile. Gottcha, baby. The inner struggle of want and need battling fear and worry. She wants me but fights against it. She may have not verbally agreed, but her body and voice just betrayed her.
I nod at her, push away from the door, and open it wide. Before walking out I catch her eyelids closing, her release of breath, and her body tremble before her tongue swipes at her lips. In the hallway and away from prying eyes I let the smile free, flashing my teeth.
She’s
already halfway to being mine.
Chapter Six
Noelle
Breath, breathe, breathe.
My God!
When I asked for a chance I didn’t mean right freaking now!
Caveman’s appearance shocked the ever lovin’ crap out of me. I was not expecting to see him there like I conjured him from my thoughts. I do want to apologize, shit, but I’m not ready now. I haven’t figured out what I was going to say. He caught me so off guard.
Oh no.
I sent him away again.
How am I supposed to say I’m sorry now!
Bending over between my knees I try to stop my body from hyperventilating. When my breathing becomes normal I slowly sit back up and stare at the white door Caveman shut quietly behind him and rack my brain on how I can come back from this new step into fucked up land. Getting a second of his time was hard enough. Now after sending him away, again, hell will have to freeze over before he lets me near him.
Shit.
And the fuck up award goes to…
And geez did he have to freak me out by all that ‘I want to see you’ talk. Date me? The one thing I can’t do right now, with anyone, is what he asked for. Instead of rationally explaining it to him and apologizing for the last time, I zone out and make his opinion of me worse. I would have said not possible because two weeks ago I was a hard act to follow, but apparently I keep the shit rolling downhill.
I thud my head down against my desk a few times in exasperation before a frightening thought pops free.
Would the motorcycle guys all come after me for being mean to some members? Surely nothing too drastic would occur because a bitch pissed off just a few members…right?