Titan (EEMC Book 2)

by Bijou Hunter

“Why do dumb-dumbs get to be in charge?”

  Pressing my lips to her head, I murmur, “Because weak people let them.”

  “But you killed Lonnie.”

  “Bronco came into the drug house where I was hiding out. The Executioners were rolling around Cleveland, looking for us again. Lonnie said everyone needed to keep a low profile until the other club gave up. We would then go to Elko and kill their people. Burn this community to the ground. Lonnie had big plans that wouldn’t make us money. I didn’t know that then. Didn’t care really. I was wasted every moment of the day. What did I care who we went to war with?”

  “I’m glad Bronco didn’t kill you,” Pixie says softly.

  Wrapping her tighter against me, I think of how I’d never know the feel of this woman if Bronco pulled that trigger. “Me too. I didn’t understand why he let me live, but I decided I would make us even. Which is stupid, right? I didn’t care if I died. I hadn’t begged to live. I didn’t owe him shit. He would have done me a favor by putting a bullet in my head. But I still felt like it was a sign from God or something.”

  “And you killed that moron Lonnie and got Bronco his revenge.”

  “Yeah. Killing those guys was easy. Shit, cutting off their heads was the hardest part.”

  After hearing those kinds of details, Pixie probably thinks I’m a monster. Why aren’t I more careful about what I say? Probably because of the pot I smoked. She doesn’t react to my heads comment, though. Probably because of the pot she smoked.

  “I drove here and told the guy at the security gate how I had a gift for Bronco. I was feeling like a big shit that day. Look at me, killing people like I always do. Whoop-de-fucking-doo. But I wanted to impress him.”

  “Because you never had a papa.”

  “I don’t know about that. I mean, Bronco isn’t old enough to be my dad.”

  “Perry liked when John Marks praised him. It was dumb-dumb stuff. Perry only did what he always did like carry wood from the supply shed to the main house where the elders talk. Then John Marks would say how Perry showed real promise. Mama told Dove and me how Perry’s papa died when he was little. That’s why he’s a dumb-dumb with older men now. His heart craves what he didn’t get from his papa.”

  I think about Bronco. He’s about a dozen years older. About the same age difference as Pixie and me. I sure don’t feel like her dad, and I hope she doesn’t see me that way.

  “I guess, if I could choose a dad, I would want Bronco,” I admit after a minute. “He takes real good care of his girls. A few months ago, he found out he had a baby with a stripper he met one night. That’s Lana from today. She just dropped the news on him that he had a kid. If that shit happened to me, I’d get ten DNA tests to make sure it was mine. Then I’d get drunk off my ass, feeling sad for the kid to have me as its dad. I’d give the mom money and tell her to buy a better father.”

  In the distance, a dog barks, and I tighten my hold on Pixie. “Anyway, that’s the kind of reaction I’d have, but Bronco was holding his baby right away and took pictures to show his family. He loved Carina as soon as he learned about her. That’s some crazy shit, but it’s why I’d want a dad like him. So, yeah, maybe I admire him in that way. I doubt I realized any of that back when I was cutting off heads. I was too high to know much.”

  “Can you get a little high so you can be happier?”

  “There’s no little high with heroin.”

  “But you smoke marijuana.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not addictive like heroin. Booze doesn’t control me in the same way, either. I can drink every day for a week and then just stop, and I won’t crave booze. Heroin is all or nothing. Besides, I was a monster on the drug, and I’m trying to be something else now. Maybe not a good man. Probably too late for that. I can see myself being better, though. I’m loyal to Bronco and the club like I never was with Lonnie and the Killing Joes.”

  “And you helped me.”

  “Yeah, but I get something out of that.”

  “The fucking,” she whispers, sounding brokenhearted.

  Nuzzling her head again, I sigh. “I could have fucked you out on the road. Made you do what I wanted. Bribed you, whatever. If it was just fucking, I’d have fucked you. I want something else.”

  “What?” she asks in a shaky voice.

  “I want you to love me. I’ve been wanting that since you talked about how much you loved your family. I imagined you looking that happy about loving me, and I knew I was going to keep visiting you until you learned to love me.”

  Pixie squirms around in my arms until she breaks free. Resting on her knees, she studies me.

  “I already love you.”

  “Not like you love your family.”

  “I’ve known them for a long time.”

  “Not Future.”

  Pixie narrows her eyes as if unimpressed by my stubbornness. Then she sighs and places her hand on my chest.

  “You’re cruel.”

  “I know.”

  “You shouldn’t be that way.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Pixie bites her bottom lip. “I’ll try not to threaten to punch you anymore.”

  “I don’t care if you hit me.”

  “No, maybe not, but I care. Too many people hit you. It’s bad for your head and your heart to get hurt all the time.”

  Studying her big brown eyes and the half-smile she offers me, I can’t imagine anyone more beautiful.

  “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

  “I forgive you.”

  “Really?”

  Pixie nods. “But I won’t forgive you in the future. Well, maybe I will in the near future. But not in the faraway future when you should know better.”

  “I know better now.”

  “I think you know in here,” she says, touching my forehead before moving her hand back to my chest. “But not here.”

  “Probably.”

  Pixie smiles a little more. “What’s a stripper?”

  “A naked dancer.”

  “Did you see Lana naked?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is she naked better than me?”

  “No one is better than you.”

  “You’re lying,” she says, poking my gut.

  “Not really. I’d rather see you naked than see Lana naked. That’s not a lie.”

  “I don’t want to see Bronco naked at all.”

  “Don’t tell him that. It might hurt his feelings.”

  Pixie grins at my teasing. “I’m sorry your father was the devil, and your mom hurt you, and your grandparents were terrible. Your story is very sad, but it brought you to me. I’ll try to make your story better now.”

  “When I think of you at the Village, I feel as if your story was sad, too.”

  “It wasn’t sad with the Dandelions and Papa. I enjoyed more good things in my life than bad things. Now, I have you.”

  “I like knowing you’ll sleep in my bed again.”

  “I like knowing I’ll wake up next to you. This morning, I was so nervous about Mama, Dove, and Future. I didn’t get to enjoy your pouting lips.”

  “Do you want to go in the hot tub?” I ask, thinking of how she said the orgasms hurt her. I know that means I caused her pain. The hot water might help.

  “I don’t know what that is.”

  I gesture toward the pool. “The little tub is like an outdoor bathtub, but you don’t clean yourself in it.”

  Pixie gives me a frown that makes me chuckle. “It’s relaxing,” I add, standing up and pulling her to her feet. “We’ll go naked.”

  Despite her uncertainty about the hot tub, Pixie follows me. First, I open the lid on the food tray and dig around for a chicken leg. Pixie drinks water and pops a raisin in her mouth. Though I consider explaining how she’ll never get at a healthier weight if she eats like a squirrel, I’ve bossed her around enough for the day.

  PIXIE

  Anders should smoke more pot. He is so much calmer after he gets stoned. However, serenity is proba
bly bad for a biker man. Tough men have to pretend to always be strong. Like how I pretended to believe the prayers at the Village. I was just lying so I could stay there. Anders isn’t lying, but he can’t be a silly version of himself around his scary, tattooed friends.

  With me in the hot tub, he starts laughing and keeps going until his face is red. I giggle at his amusement, despite having no idea what he finds funny.

  I really like the hot tub. People in the outside world sure need a lot of dumb stuff to entertain themselves with. Yet, this one, at least, feels good. Especially on my vagina. I refuse to call it a pussy in my head.

  “What’s a titan?” I ask Anders as I bounce in the center of the hot tub and enjoy the bubbles going in my vagina.

  “That’s my club name.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m big like a titan.”

  “Why not call you big or giant?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t pick the name.”

  “Why?”

  “Bronco’s sisters wanted to call me Beanstalk or some shit. Topanga came up with Titan and then had the bunnies vote. They obviously didn’t want Beanstalk.”

  “What’s a beanstalk, and how can bunnies tell you what they want?”

  Anders chuckles again. “Beanstalk is from the kid story, ‘Jack and the Beanstalk.’ Also, bunnies are what we call the club girls who party with us.”

  I just smile at him like he does at me when I tell him what the Dandelions believe. “So, Titan means big?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did they call you with the Killing Joes?”

  “The Antichrist.”

  “Why?”

  “My dad was The Devil, and the devil’s son is called the Antichrist.” When I just stare at him, he adds, “It’s from the Bible.”

  “Oh, well, that anti thing sounds terrible. Titan is better.”

  “I agree,” he says, reaching out to run his big fingers against my wet cheek. “Do you like your name?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you wish you had a normal name?”

  “Like what? Topanga? Or Lana?”

  “Lana’s pretty normal.”

  “But that’s her name. I don’t want it.”

  “Why did your mom name you that?”

  “When I was inside Mama, my papa dreamed I was like the tiny winged lady in the ‘Peter Pan’ movie. He thought her name was Pixie, so that’s what they named me.”

  “Her name is Tinker Bell.”

  “Oh, well, I don’t want that name,” I say, sitting on the seat next to him and running my toes over his thigh.

  “Would you ever want to have my kid?”

  “Of course. We could have made a baby tonight, but you never put your penis in my vagina.”

  “My what in your what?”

  Adjusting on the seat, I sit very close to him and whisper, “Your penis in my vagina.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t remember the word for your penis.”

  “Cock.”

  “Like a boy chicken?”

  “No, rooster is not the name of my cock.”

  Anders throws his head back and laughs, but I don’t get it. He eventually explains how Rooster is the club name of Bronco’s brother-in-law.

  “I thought that was Wheels.”

  “Different brother-in-law. Wheels was married to Barbie. He was Conor’s dad.”

  “Okay, but what is the name of your penis again?”

  Anders thinks I’m messing with him, but I can’t remember it. I keep thinking it’s cat, but I know that’s wrong.

  “Your cock in my pussy,” I finally say after some guidance.

  “That sounds real nice, Pixie.”

  “What if we make a baby? Do we have to put it in a baby cage like with Future?”

  “He isn’t sleeping in the crib.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I checked on the cameras.” I only stare at him until he explains, “There are security cameras all over the house. I stuck them in every room. I don’t know why.”

  Anders sighs and leans his head back. “No, I know why I did. Bronco put cameras all over his house. I copied him, but I don’t think they’re supposed to go in the bedrooms.”

  Laughing suddenly, he stretches out his long legs. “No, I’m fairly fucking certain they aren’t supposed to go in the rooms where people sleep and fuck.”

  “You said a lot of words, leaving me confused.”

  Anders stands up and walks to the table. I watch him leave, and I watch him walk back. First, I stare at his rear end. Then I stare at his penis. I’m not sure which one I prefer.

  “Their faces look green because of the night vision,” he explains while stepping into the hot tub.

  Then Anders shows me the phone. I see Mama and Dove sleeping in a big bed with Future curled up between them.

  “My family is so beautiful,” I whisper. “That’s how we slept in the tabernacle. I would sleep on the other side of Dove and Perry on the other side of Mama. Back in the Collective, Papa slept next to Mama while Dove and I cuddled.”

  “Are you going to miss them tonight?”

  Even hearing the edge in Anders’s voice, I nod. “There’s no space for me on that bed, though.”

  “Do you think they’ll want their own rooms eventually?”

  “What for?”

  “To have more privacy.”

  Ignoring his question, I study the picture until he sets the phone away from the water.

  “Is privacy why you have a big house by yourself?” I ask after he stretches out again.

  “I copied Bronco. He had built a big house, so I built the same thing. I changed some stuff, mostly on the inside. Like the wood floors are a different color, and my cabinets are darker. But I just did what he did.”

  “Because you respect him or because you wanted him to respect you?”

  Anders’s blue eyes flash upward. “Because people said I should build a house, and his was my favorite.”

  I glance at the phone, thinking of my family sleeping so peacefully. “I’m excited about breakfast in the morning. Mama plans to cook.”

  “Are you hungry now?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Why not say something?”

  “I want to stay in the water more.”

  Frowning, Anders asks, “Do you like this house? I can change it if you don’t like it.”

  “Change it how?”

  “Knock it down and build a new one.”

  I look at the back of his big house and then at him. “That’s terrible, Anders. You can’t destroy your home.”

  “I would if you didn’t like it.”

  His words hurt my heart. Yet, Anders only frowns at my tears. He can’t understand. I’m starting to wonder if he’s blind to himself and the world he lives in.

  “This is your home, Anders,” I say, crying freely. “You copied Bronco, but you copied him and not other people. You picked the colors that are different, yes? This house is a part of you. How could you ever want to destroy it?”

  “I want you to be happy and stay with me.”

  “What if I don’t like your clothes or your name or your club or the food you eat? Will you destroy it all? What will be left?”

  “It’s just a building.”

  “No, it’s part of you. I don’t want you to destroy yourself for me.”

  Clearly confused, Anders mutters, “And you don’t want to change for me.”

  “I already have, but I don’t want to be Lana or Tinker Bell or whoever else you want me to be.”

  The top of Anders’s face remains scowling, but his lower part fights a smile. “Don’t be Lana.”

  “Don’t destroy your home.”

  “I can change stuff without destroying it.”

  “Then maybe do that one day. I don’t know. This is a big house, and I can’t keep track of why it has so many rooms. One day, I might understand and want things to be different. Or I might like it the way it
is.”

  “I want you to be happy,” he says, running his fingers along my leg.

  “I am.”

  “We should eat.”

  “Can we put your cock-penis into my pussy-vagina?”

  “Right now?”

  “You’re very hard,” I say, reaching for his penis. “That means you want sexual intercourse. Mama told me.”

  “What else did she tell you?” he asks, sliding me onto his lap.

  “That the pussy-vagina stretches. Even though you have a very large cock-penis, it will fit.”

  “How does she know about my cock?”

  Giggling, I cup his jaw. “She meant the vagina stretches for a baby to come out. I assume it would stretch for your titan-cock-penis.”

  “Now, you’re giving it too many names.”

  “Well, it’s very large. And your person name is very long.”

  Anders slides his hands down my back as I lean into our kiss. Between our bodies, his penis is so hard. I run my fingers over the flesh and smile when it twitches with excitement.

  “Are you nervous?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say and stand up and show him my pussy. “Can you touch it, so I get wetter?”

  His mouth drops open. Anders always looks shocked when I ask him to touch me. Finally, he licks his lips. His hands rest on my hips and guide me lower until his tongue can taste that spot.

  “I really like this part,” I whisper, stroking his forehead as he licks deeper inside my vagina.

  I almost fall forward when the orgasm happens, and my body goes wild. Yet, Anders holds me up. My moans echo against the stone on the ground and the side of the house. I would be embarrassed to get so loud if I hadn’t seen my family already asleep. If other people hear, I don’t care.

  Lowering myself, I kiss his lips and taste me on them. “I know how to do it,” I whisper, reaching for his penis. My hand guides his erection to my vagina.

  “We should wait,” he says despite his body wanting the opposite.

  “Stop telling me what to do,” I insist as his penis enters me. “I know what I’m doing. I put it in my body, and then I make my pussy-vagina stroke it like my hands did in the shower.”

  Anders leans his head back and looks in pain. He did that in the shower, too. However, he also ejaculated, which is a sign that I did it right. He thinks I’m a kid because I’ve never done anything before. Except I was only being selective about who I wanted to do those things with.