by Bijou Hunter
“Not fair!” yells the redhead friend.
Becca holds her bleeding nose and mutters for her friends to help.
“What about the rules?” Telly asks.
“Fuck the rules,” Journey announces before the three bitcheteers can.
Poppy yanks me out of the way while Journey goes straight for Becca. I hear her fist making contact with the bitch’s face again. The redhead lands on Journey’s back for maybe five seconds before my sister tosses her off effortlessly.
“I wonder who she’ll straddle-punch?” Poppy excitedly asks. “My money is on the main whore.”
“Her name is Becca.”
“Who cares?”
Shrugging, I hold my jaw and watch Journey head-butt the blonde friend before returning to punching Becca. The crowd is laughing and clapping. The pathetic girlfight has quickly turned into a battle worth watching. Journey drops a stunned Becca and attacks the redhead. They fall to the ground where my sister straddles the frightened bitch.
“I was wrong,” Poppy says when Journey straddle-punches the redhead.
The blonde grabs Journey by the hair. Reaching up, she takes the blonde by her hair too and yanks her down to the ground. To the delight of the crowd, Journey jumps on the blonde and straddle-punches her.
The crowd begins rhythmically clapping as if at a sports event. I’ve never been so proud to be Journey’s little sister as when she tackles a fleeing Becca and bangs the bitch’s head on the hard ground. Once the three women are sufficiently humbled, Journey stands up and wipes her hands on her jeans. Only then does she realize everyone’s watching.
Rolling her eyes at their amusement, she walks to me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, how about you? I was worried a few times since you seemed over your head,” I tease, checking the scratches on her neck. “One of those vipers got you with their fake nails.”
“Peroxide will fix that.”
My sister is a firm believer in the magical powers of peroxide. Slut scratches? No problem, she’s got peroxide. Pushing a human being through her crotch? Peroxide to the rescue. Lose a limb to a bear attack? I’m sure peroxide will heal that right up.
“Thank you,” I whisper even though the bar is alive with activity.
Journey smiles and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “If it were a shit-talking contest, you’d have won easily but leave the violent stuff to me.”
“I still think sweeping the leg would have won it for you,” Poppy says.
“Want to leave?”
“Yeah. I might need to cry soon,” I admit. “That punch really queefing hurt.”
“Probably should get ice on it for the swelling.”
“What, no peroxide?”
Journey glares at my teasing but keeps me protectively close as we walk outside. She’s a mama bear with her cubs. Yeah, she’s got the protective mother routine down. All she needs now is a man worthy of her vagina.
25 Black Sheep
Court
Justice is plenty feisty, but she’s no fighter. I don’t need her to be one, and I certainly prefer her non-violent nature to Becca’s psycho one. Seeing her with a fat lip though makes me wish a tiny part of Justice possessed a vicious nature.
“Nice shirt,” I say when I can’t say what I’m thinking.
Talk of killing Becca isn’t something a man should say aloud especially in a room full of women giving him the stink eye. Well, Justice isn’t. She smiles at me from behind her icepack.
“I thought it was fitting since she saved my awesome ass today.”
Printed on an oversized tank top are Journey’s snarling face and an upward middle finger. I see the real life version in the kitchen, cooking what smells like chili.
“I heard Journey beat the ever loving shit out of Becca and her friends,” I say, grinning at the thought of my ex getting her ass handed to her. “I don’t think they expected that.”
“No, they were whining about bar rules or some shit. Journey don’t care about no damn rules.” Justice begins to laugh before wincing in pain. “As fun as the entire thing was, I wish my face were made out of something more shock resistant.”
I smile at her comment, but the cold part of me capable of violence wants to track down Becca and make her go away permanently. Despite her beat down today, I know she’ll stir up trouble again. That’s what she does. That’s all she does. Trouble is her addiction. A sickness she uses to torment even those who love her most.
“Don’t,” Justice says, placing my hand on her stomach. “You’re thinking stuff that doesn’t need to be thought. Just let it go.”
“Becca won’t let it go. She doesn’t know how.”
“It’ll be okay. She wants to control you and Felix. I’m a threat to her, so she tried to make a point. She failed.”
“She won’t give up, Justice. I’m telling you that as a fact.”
“Well, then we’ll deal with her crap later. Right now, I’m happy to have you paying attention to me. I’m very greedy that way.”
“I could stay over or bring you to my place.”
Justice studies me. “Out of pity? No, don’t answer since it doesn’t matter. I want your attention. I don’t care if you only give it to me out of guilt.”
“I’d kiss the shit out of you right now if your mouth wasn’t like this,” I say, caressing her lips with my thumb. “
“You could give it a try,” she murmurs, balling up a handful of my shirt and tugging me forward.
I kiss her as carefully as I can, but her bottom lip is twice its normal size and she flinches in pain when our mouths meet.
“Do you need pain meds?” I ask, cupping her face and staring into the bluest eyes I’ve ever known.
“No, Mom gave me some. Poppy gave me the ice pack. I’m a lucky duck to have such a wonderful family.”
Journey snorts. “I think the Vicodin is kicking in.”
“I love you,” Justice tells her sister. “You are so brave and smart.”
Fighting laughter, I kiss Justice’s forehead. She sounds a little stoned now, but as long as she’s smiling, I think I can keep my temper under control.
For years, I’ve fought the urge to deal with Becca in the same way that I deal with club problems. If she were gone, Felix could live with me. Astrid could raise Becca’s two other children without their mother wasting their welfare money on her partying. How many people would benefit from Becca’s disappearance?
I hate thinking such thoughts. Killing meth dealers and violent pimps is something I do without a second thought. I never care, even if I probably should.
With my child’s mother, I pretend to care, but deep inside, I know I don’t. I let her live because I want to believe her life is worth more than the pimp’s. I don’t believe it is, though. Becca is toxic, and people like her need killing to protect others. Hell, in reality, I only show her mercy because I’m afraid Felix would hate me for taking away his mom.
Justice watches me for a long time. At first, I suspect she knows where my head is, but then I realize she’s too out of it from the pain meds. She’s watching me because she’s happy I’m with her. Nothing more complicated than that.
I sit next to her even after she dozes off on the couch. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, and my problems are dragging her down. If I can’t kill Becca, I ought to walk away from Justice.
I won’t, of course. Even the thought of giving up this motor-mouthed beauty makes my heart hurt. I’ll never find anyone else as amazing as Justice. If I were a great man with unrelenting honor, I’d do her the favor of ending things. I’m not great or perfect, and Justice wouldn’t let me walk away. She’s threatened more than once to stalk me if I dumped her.
“Dad’s here,” Journey tells Christine a half hour after Justice dozes off.
“I’ll be in my room,” she says, snapping for Hal to follow.
Poppy sits on the floor with her school books and a cat in her lap. She’s watching me, and I know she’s been doing so for
a long time. I refuse to acknowledge her, and she finally gives up on the subtle route.
“Jared won’t be happy with you.”
“I’m not dating him, so I don’t care.”
“Isn’t he like your master in the biker gang?”
“That’s not how it works, but I suspect you already know that.”
“You’re no fun,” she says, leaning against the wall and opening a book. “Your ex-girlfriend’s vagina smells like sewage.”
“I wouldn’t know since I haven’t gotten around it in nearly a decade.”
Poppy shakes her head, clearly irritated by her inability to piss me off. As obnoxious as she can be, she’s an amateur next to Becca, who’s made it her mission to fuck with me for over a decade.
Behind me, Journey opens the door for Jared and warns him to keep his voice down since Justice is sleeping.
“She’s drooling too,” Poppy says in a normal loud voice.
Jared stands at the end of the couch, looking at his daughter before his gaze begins drilling a hole in my back. I finally turn and make eye contact.
“We should talk,” he says.
“Busted,” Poppy whispers, never looking up from her book.
Ignoring her, I walk outside with Jared. He kicks at the ground and shoves his hands in his pockets as if he’s working hard to keep his temper in check.
I watch him and try not to laugh. I don’t know why, but his reaction cracks me up. He’d probably seem considerably more intimidating if he could say any of this crap to Justice. As long as he’s scared of his non-violent, a hundred and ten-pound daughter, I can’t piss myself in fear.
“This isn’t acceptable,” he finally says.
“I can’t control Becca. There’s only one way to deal with her, and no way does Joe give me the green light to off a woman.”
“He’s old school that way.”
“Aren’t we all? It’s not like anyone in the club is lining up to kill women.”
“No, but women can be dangerous. Your ex sure as hell is.”
“Journey beat the shit out of her. I’m sure you heard that part too, right?”
Jared struggles against a smile. “Well, I heard she handled herself, but I don’t know how bad she actually beat them. Three against one ain’t much of a fair fight.”
Crossing my arms, I glance back at the house where Hal now barks.
“I won’t pretend I’m happy with this situation. What can I do, though? I couldn’t even fuck up Becca as bad as Journey without ending up in jail. Becca would call the cops in a minute if I so much as raised a hand to her. She loves having the power to mess with me. With Journey, she’ll lick her wounds and plot her next bullshit.”
“There's got to be a way to deal with her besides burying her somewhere.”
“She’s nuts. You know that, and I know that. Everyone knows that. It’s why people give her a wide berth. I keep hoping she’ll do something stupid in another place and get the law called on her, but Becca’s not suicidal. She knows she can act like an asshole in Tumbling Rock because no one here will stop her.”
Jared runs a hand through his hair. “As long as you and Justice are together, Becca will keep running at my daughter.”
“Let is go,” I grumble before turning toward the house. “Justice and I are together. That ain’t changing no matter what you or Becca or anyone else thinks, says, or does.”
“A man takes care of those people important to him.”
“Yeah, so I’m going inside to take care of Justice.”
Inside, I find Justice sitting up and staring at Poppy.
“She’s stoned,” Journey says to me. “I don’t think we should have given her an entire pill.”
“I’ll take her to bed.”
“I bet you will,” Journey says, snickering as she peers out the shades to where Jared stands. “Is he coming back inside?”
“I don’t know.”
Journey and Poppy share an amused look. They’re happy people and always smile when ordinary folks would rage or sulk. Even Justice’s swollen lip and glazed eyes are amusing to this family.
I pick up Justice, who wipes the drool from her swollen lips. “I like you.”
“I like you too.”
“It’s Hallmark time over here,” Poppy says to Journey.
They laugh at us, but I’m more interested in having Justice stretched out on her bed. Carrying her down the hallway, I nudge a cat out of my way before shutting the door. Once I lower Justice on the bed, she smiles.
“I got in a fight today.”
“I’m going to stay the night.”
“I know. You need me to comfort you.” Justice reaches for me and pats my head. “So vulnerable.”
Grinning, I kick off my shoes and turn on the TV before handing her the remote. She flips through every channel before settling on an old movie.
“Black and white movies are like history lessons,” she babbles before instantly falling asleep.
I take the remote, change the channel to sports, and relax next to her limp body. No matter what Jared thinks, I belong with Justice. In a perfect world, I’d spend every night with her while Felix slept safely down the hall from us. No Becca bullshit or Jared guilt trips. Just the three of us living like a normal family despite not being normal people.
26 Black Sheep
Justice
By the time I wake up from my drug-induced slumber, I can barely remember Becca or the barbecue wings. I do remember my mouth pain. In my dream, a car ran into my face. I wake up and immediately reach for my swollen lips.
“Be careful,” Court whispers, resting next to me.
His hand takes mine and kisses the knuckles. I blink for a long time before I catch up to how we’re in my bed. My brain replays the fight at Telly’s bar, and how I didn’t do much more than get smacked around and fall on my ass.
“How do you feel?” he says still whispering.
“Like I got hit in the mouth.”
“I can get you more pain meds.”
“No. I think I’d like to remain conscious especially with a sexy slice of manhood stretched out in my bed.”
Court kisses my cheek and then my forehead and then my nose. He wants to kiss my mouth but hesitates.
“I’m glad you stayed,” I tell him when he only watches me.
“I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
“You’re upset.”
“Wouldn’t you be pissed if your ex-boyfriend punched me?”
Recalling Eldon’s hippie-like qualities, I can’t imagine him doing Court much harm.
“I get your point but don’t be upset. I’m awesome. You’re in my bed. I have my hand under your shirt. What’s there to be upset about now?”
Court glances down at where my nails graze his warm skin. “Your dad wants me to dump you.”
“Are you trying to get him in trouble?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.
“No. I’m doing a preemptive strike by telling you before he does.”
“Sneakiness is an underrated quality in a boyfriend.”
Court runs his fingers through my bangs. “I’m not leaving you.”
“I know. I wouldn’t let you anyway. Do you know why?”
Court smiles without answering.
“I love you, Courtland Bayer.”
His expression doesn’t change. In fact, his face freezes, and I suspect he’s searching for an exit strategy. Rather than run or stammer a non-answer, he presses his lips against mine and gently kisses away my frown.
“Don’t brush me off,” I say as soon as I can breathe.
“I’m not. I’m kissing you.”
“Because you don’t want to say the words?”
“I love you. I loved you yesterday, and I love you right now, and I’ll love you tomorrow. I have no problem saying the words. I just wanted to kiss you first.”
“Oh, then, let’s go back to the kissing.”
Kissing is only the tip of the sexy iceberg. Court needs more reassuran
ce than I do. He wraps his arms around me tightly, thrusting deeply as if desperate to remind my body who owns it.
I hunger for the distraction his body provides. The fight today feels like a dream, and I want to forget about Becca. In my room, I can’t see past Court’s sexy dark eyes or possessive touch.
After we get dressed, I feel claustrophobic in the house. Court and I walk outside to where we stroll around the five acres Christine owns.
Court remains in an edgy mood even after two vigorous humping sessions. He finally stops walking and takes my hand.
“I feel like I ought to kill her for you,” Court says, and his anger startles me. “Isn’t that how a man handles a threat to his woman?”
“I don’t know about killing threats. Maybe that’s how they roll around here, but in Indy, we call the police and let them sort shit out.”
“No one calls the cops in Tumbling Rock. It’s the golden rule.”
“Well, you can’t kill Becca.”
“If I could, I would,” he says, pressing my hand to his chest. “I would do it in a second to protect you.”
“She’s Felix’s mom. I understand, and I don’t want you to kill her anyway.”
A frustrated Court runs his hands through his hair. “I do things for the club. Violent things. I don’t feel anything good or bad about those things. With Becca, I want her to pay. Not only for hurting you but for hurting Felix and so many other people. I can’t do it, though, because Felix will hate me one day for taking her away. People always turn the dead into saints.”
I consider what he’s saying about both the club and Becca. I knew he had some use for the club. The job at the storage units was a cover. Clearly, the Rawkfist guys weren’t paying his bills as a form of charity.
“I had a math teacher in sixth grade,” Court says, taking my hand again as we begin walking. “He was a real sonuvabitch. Moody as fuck, he would go days without teaching us anything. If you asked for help, he’d yell at you. Then he’d give us tests we weren’t ready for and yell at us for failing. The fucker made me hate math, and that was the only subject I was any good at.”