Bear Trap

by Bijou Hunter

  That morning, when Clove opens the door to her place, I’m struck again by her natural beauty. Her dark hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, showing off her glowing tawny skin. Clove smells fantastic, and my dick thickens as I inhale her fruity scent.

  “I’m packed up and ready to haul ass to Little Memphis,” she says, sliding into her leather jacket. “Do you need anything before we get moving?”

  Her relaxed tone sounds forced, and I don’t respond immediately. Forcing her to stew, I watch Clove’s gaze instantly shift from fake tranquil to pissed.

  “What?” she asks.

  “You look too sexy. I had to let blood return to my brain. Now that it has, let’s go.”

  Clove’s frown wavers but never fades. She doesn’t buy my dick excuse. Not knowing what she wants me to say, I keep my mouth shut.

  Soon, we’re in the parking lot, climbing on our Harleys. Clove takes out her phone and sighs. “You know the way, but if we get separated, I’m texting you the hotel address where we’ll meet in Little Memphis.”

  “Why would we get separated?”

  “You drive like a girl,” she says and slides her phone into her back pocket. Giving me a smirk, she revs her engine and says, “Try to keep up, pretty boy.”

  Clove’s Harley bolts from the parking lot with me right behind her. More than once, I cut in front of her bike just to make a point. Whenever I do, I hear her laughter behind me.

  We make decent time to Blairsville—a.k.a. Little Memphis—only hitting traffic around the exit to real Memphis. Two off-ramps before the one we’re aiming for, Clove pulls in front of me so I can see her turn signal and know she’s exiting the highway. I follow her down the off-ramp and stop next to her Harley in the parking lot of a McDonald’s.

  “Thought we’d grab a bite before we do the meet-and-greets with the Little Memphis club and crew.”

  Glancing around the area, I see more than a few people giving us the evil eye. I don’t know if it’s the Harleys, Clove’s exotic ethnicity, or my good looks, but we’re riling up the natives.

  “They’re worried,” Clove says and leans against me with her lips upward, “Little Memphis trash has spilled out onto their nothing town. It’s always like this,” she says and lifts one hand out to flip off the looky-loos. Clove never glances at them. Instead, her gaze locks onto mine until my lips meet hers.

  Once inside, we order matching Big Mac meals and sit across from each other as if a couple on a date.

  I squirt ketchup next to my fries and admit, “I’m glad we have a few minutes to chill before rushing into business.”

  “Did Oz give you any advice on dealing with Joker?”

  “He said to be friendly, agree to nothing, and keep everything vague.”

  Clove sips her soda and leans closer. “Ginger and Oz ought to be the ones making this trip, but he can’t tolerate sharing a room with a man who fucked his woman. No way will Madden stand down to make nice with Oz, so those two were bound to spill blood. As much as I’d like to see Oz fuck up the Little Memphis pretty boy, Ginger was having none of it.”

  “What’s your problem with pretty boys?”

  Clove gives me a sexy grin. “Stop your whining. It’s not like I don’t ride my pretty boy harder than my Harley.”

  “We’re good for more than just riding, you know?” I mutter, faking as if my precious fucking feelings are hurt when my real problem is the erection her teasing smiles give me.

  “I hadn’t heard that. What kind of skills are we talking about?”

  “I fixed up your place real sweet like, didn’t I?”

  “That you did,” she says and pops a fry in my mouth. “But we already knew you were good with your hands.”

  “That kind of house fixing takes brains too.”

  “I’ll take your word for that.”

  When Clove’s gaze leaves me and remains gone, I ask, “Are you nervous about being back here?”

  “No,” she says instantly. “I thrive on danger and misery. Safety and happiness are what trips me up.”

  I don’t know how to respond to her words because they make no fucking sense. I did six months in prison on a minor assault charge when I was eighteen. Those six months sucked so damn hard, and I couldn’t wait to be free and relaxed again.

  Thinking back, I did know guys with years, even decades, behind bars, and they couldn’t deal with the chaos of freedom. Prison provides rules, expectations, and the predictability of lacking power. A few of those guys broke laws once free, just to return to a life that fits them.

  Clove’s old life was her prison, and Rawlins represents freedom. Even if it kills me, I’ll make her fall in love with freedom as deeply as I’ve fallen in love with her.

  ➸ Clove ☆

  Glitch’s beauty stands out against the ugliness of Little Memphis. Especially on the south side where the shit most often floats to the top. He climbs off his Harley just outside the Tigress Apartment Complex where I used to live with most of the crew.

  Not many girls remain at the apartments these days. They’ve settled into homes or at least apartments in the better parts of Little Memphis. Not Anise, though, who walks down to the parking lot only minutes after Glitch and I arrive.

  Anise is one of those white chicks who always look like she just crashed after a long bender. Skipping down the stairs from the apartment’s second story, the messy blonde gives Glitch the once-over and asks, “Who’s this pretty lady? They sure make the girls hairy down south.”

  “Funny shit,” I say and give her tit a quick slap. “This fine fucker is Glitch from the Heretics club.”

  Pretending to punch my tit, she asks, “Are you riding this biker?”

  “From time to time.”

  Anise glances at a passing car before sharing, “I’m not with Ellie anymore.”

  “Did she cheat on you?”

  “Of course. You know they always do,” Anise says and gives Glitch another long lecherous look. “Maybe we could share this one,” she murmurs and squeezes his bicep. I’d smack her hand if I thought she was seriously into him. Anise stops feeling up Glitch long enough to ask, “Would you be up for a delicious three-way, stud?”

  Glitch’s handsome face immediately twists into a scowl. “Uh... no.”

  Anise laughs first, but I can’t keep a straight face for long either. Only Glitch would be offended by an opportunity to bang two chicks. His horror at such a thought tempts me to fuck his brains out right here.

  “We’re just messing with you,” she tells him. “No way would Clove share. Not her food, her men, her clothes, nothing.”

  Shrugging, I’m relieved her hands are off Glitch despite knowing Anise is all talk. “Chalk it up to a bad upbringing.”

  “Tell me about it,” she says and gestures for us to head up to her apartment.

  I walk next to Glitch who looks relaxed, but I don’t buy his casual crap. He’s been on edge since showing up at my apartment. More than once at McDonald’s, Glitch made a move to hold my hand, especially if he noticed some asshole checking me out. He wants to play boyfriend, but we’ve never even been on a date. No matter what his dick tells him, fucking doesn’t equal a relationship.

  ➸ Glitch ★

  Anise has wild green hair, sad blue eyes, and the messiest fucking apartment I’ve ever had the misfortune of stepping inside. And my cousin is a damn hoarder!

  “I should get a maid,” she says after dumping clothes on the floor to make room for us on her couch. “But I won’t. I don’t like people touching my shit.”

  “Hard to believe Ellie dumped you.”

  “She cheated on me, fatass!” Anise yells and throws a pizza carton at Clove. “I dumped her. I don’t want some man’s sloppy seconds.”

  “I stand corrected.”

  Anise smiles before flopping into a broken chair nearby. “Joker expects you to drop into Suede this afternoon to say hello. He has something he wants to unload on the Heretics.”

  “Unload?” I ask.

/>   “Don’t ask me for specifics because I don’t know any. Only where and when Joker expects you.”

  “Will his enforcers be around to intimidate my pretty boy?” Clove asks, never looking at me.

  “Who knows? Why does he need to intimidate anyone? I thought the Heretics were his bitches.”

  Clove shakes her head. “For now, they are. In a few years, shit could shift. Most of the Heretics are young, and Ginger’s helping Oz organize shit. This underdog crap is temporary.”

  For the next half hour, I feel invisible while the women speak. This feeling doesn’t improve when we arrive at Suede—a mix between a tiki bar and a honky-tonk—where Joker waits at a back table. I recognize him from a picture Oz showed us nearly a year ago. Sitting on one side of the middle-aged man, with his rusty-colored hair and beard, are two large men I assume are his club enforcers. On the other side of Joker sits a mixed-race man in his early twenties that I’m guessing is Ginger’s old boyfriend, Madden.

  Clove marches over to Joker and his men, quickly introduces me, and then immediately takes over the conversation.

  “What did you want the Heretics to take off your hands?” she demands as if ready to throw punches.

  “Guy named Hazard,” Joker says without missing a beat. “He’s getting out of prison in a few weeks, and I think he’d be a better fit with people who don’t live here.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  Joker shrugs his wide shoulders and smiles. “Got bad blood with the club. See, ten years ago, give or take a few months, Hazard firebombed a dirty cop’s house. Now normally the local boys in blue and the club would keep that problem quiet, but that particular dirty cop was tight with our old president, Trigger. So Hazard got busted and sent to prison for a decade. I think maybe Trigger was hoping Hazard might turn snitch and we could get our guys inside to take him out. Trigger loved making an example of people. Nonetheless, Hazard’s mouth stayed shut, and Trigger got himself killed.”

  “If Trigger’s dead, what’s the problem?” Clove asks, crossing her arms.

  Joker likely realizes his sales pitch isn’t winning over Clove, so he turns his amused gaze to me. “Hazard might be holding a grudge because he sure doesn’t seem keen on bonding with his club brothers again. I thought with your club’s small numbers that you could find a place for him.”

  “No,” Clove says immediately. “Rawlins isn’t big enough for a firebug asshole with anger issues.”

  “Why did he firebomb the dirty cop’s house?” I ask without looking at Clove. “Is he nuts or was he making a point?”

  Joker glances at his enforcers and shrugs again. “The cop roughed up a hooker. Bad too. She lost an eye, I think. Since Hazard and the hooker went to the same elementary school, he took her beating personally. I think the only reason he didn’t kill the cop was out of respect for Trigger.”

  “No good deed,” Clove mutters. “Can I once again say how happy I am that Trigger was tortured before his death?”

  “Amen to that,” Joker says, leaning back in his chair. “So do you think you can make room for Hazard in your mini-club down south?”

  Remaining non-committal, I only shrug. “Oz will let you know.”

  “It’s too bad he didn’t come up himself,” Joker says and gives a quick glance to Madden.

  “No one wants to visit this fucking place,” Clove growls. “Especially not a recently married man with kids and joy in his life. It’s like asking him to swim in an unflushed toilet.”

  Joker laughs. “Aww, you miss it here, Clove.”

  “Fuck your mother, Joker, and don’t forget to leave her cab fare.”

  Joker lets out a loud chuckle. “I swear if you weren’t sleeping with old Glitch here, I’d think you were coming on to me. You ought to keep in mind, though, that I’m faithful to my old lady. If not, she and my ex-wife will join forces to cut off my balls.”

  “One for each of them,” Clove says and steps back. “That’s why God made two.”

  “A few of my guys will be eating at City by Night around eight. You two should drop by and enjoy the fish tacos.”

  “We’ll think about it,” Clove says and taps my shoulder. “Let’s ditch these guys and head to the hotel.”

  Silently following Clove out of the bar and to our Harleys, I struggle to keep my temper in check. We don’t share a single word on the drive. I tell myself to stay cool with Clove. She is only trying to help.

  No inner pep talk can keep my anger from boiling over by the time we reach the parking lot of the Holiday Inn. Based on her relaxed expression, Clove has no idea what’s coming.

  ➸ Clove ☆

  Arriving at the hotel, I’m dying to scrub off the Little Memphis stink. My desire to return to this shithole was clearly based on romanticized memories and not any common fucking sense. How else can I explain spending less than two hours in this town and already hating every inch of it? Even the air smells weird.

  Climbing off my Harley, I make a move for the front door until I realize Glitch isn’t following me.

  “What’s the problem?” I grumble, wanting to get checked in and wash away the filth of a town I now view without rose-colored glasses.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Glitch asks and storms in my direction until he’s looming over my petite build with his massive one. “You’ve made very clear how you don’t think shit of me as a man. For now, I’ve been okay with you treating me that way. When we’re alone. Or in bed. But how fucking dare you pull that shit when club business is involved. Do you understand me?”

  “What the hell is up your ass?” I ask, still trying to hold my own against the much larger, severely irate man.

  Glitch lowers his face until his glare is mere inches from me. “You treated me like a bitch in front of Joker, and you did it with ease. That shit stops now. I won’t be cut down at the knees because you’re having a bad fucking life. If you can’t control your inner bitch, we’ll have separate meetings with the Little Memphis club from now on. I’m not here to carry your fucking bags, Clove. I’m here on club business.”

  “But I’m the one who suggested you come.”

  My heart races. How did things get amped up so quickly?

  “So fucking what?” he growls, and I instinctively flinch at the rage in his voice. “I don’t work for you. You do get that, don’t you, Clove? My showing up to fix shit at your place was about getting into your fucking pants. When you snapped, I came running... to... get... laid. I’ll act like a bitch to make my dick happy, but that’s not why we’re in Little Memphis. This trip isn’t a vacation, so stop acting like I’m your cuck boy toy.”

  Glitch’s blistering temper throws me off my game. I can’t even keep up with his accusations because they’re so unexpected. I want to deny his claims, but I don’t know if he’s right or not. I genuinely hadn’t thought much of the entire meeting.

  “Those guys didn’t respect you,” I say weakly.

  “So you thought taking over the conversation would help?”

  Leveling my shoulders, I try to face him without flinching. “It’s what Ginger would do.”

  “Not if she was with Oz.”

  “You’re not Oz,” I throw back, still hoping to return the natural equilibrium to the relationship.

  “Yeah, and you’re not Ginger,” he tosses right back at me. “Maybe you ought to keep that in mind the next time you decide to make me look weak.”

  “I don’t make you look anything.”

  “I could have talked over you, interrupted you, made you look bad. I probably should have,” Glitch says and runs both hands through his hair. “Shit, at least then, they’d know I wasn’t your bitch, but I showed you respect. Do you think you’re capable of doing the same for me? If you can’t, we’ll meet with the Little Memphis club separately.”

  “Fine,” I mutter, having lost my confidence in this battle.

  “Fine.”

  Glitch exhales roughly, blowing hair out of his eyes before walking past me to
enter the hotel. I remain where I am for another minute. Looking up at the sky, I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’m not afraid of Glitch, am I? If he threw the first punch, I know I’d win the fight. Glitch doesn’t have it in him to play dirty while I’m always willing to cheat in a fight. Fighting dirty is the only way to win against the girls in my crew.

  Then again, maybe Glitch would fight dirty. His freak-out just proved I don’t know shit about the man.

  Chapter Five

  Sicilian Variation of Louis: Luiggi

  ➸ Glitch ★

  I’ve never been much of a lone wolf. The club life works for me because I have people watching my back. Walking into City by Night—a classy seafood joint—I feel both underdressed and very fucking alone.

  Joker already sits in a booth with the two enforcers from earlier. His focus is on the large, tatted man taking their order. Before deciding to let me go alone, Clove mentioned a Little Memphis guy named Bull owned this restaurant.

  Joker spots me at the door where I wait to be seated. He waves me over, and by doing so, forces me to be the center of attention for the entire restaurant. I don’t know if he wants me to feel on the spot—and fucking vulnerable in his territory—but his maneuver makes me rethink my decision to come here alone.

  “Where is Miss Manners?” Joker asks when I slide in next to the massive dark-haired enforcer. I take a minute to wish we were sitting at a table. The Heretics never sit in a booth. This shit makes me feel like I’m on a damn date. No doubt another Joker move to leave me uneasy.

  “Clove wasn’t in the mood for so much male stink, so she ditched this meeting to hang out with her crew.”

  “They working on anything interesting?” Joker asks in the best fake casual tone I’ve ever heard.