by Bijou Hunter
No, I just didn’t want to open up and share my feelings. She talked about having kids, and I wonder if I should have one. She talks about finding a man, and I wonder why I can’t connect with the one I have. She talks crew business, and I wonder why I’m only happy when I’m pounding on a troublemaker. Why can’t I enjoy the small joys in life like Ginger? Even permanently fucked-up Yarrow found love. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Let me tell you something about that pretty hair of yours,” I mumble while Glitch and I sit at breakfast surrounded by people in business suits. “Your tiger mane might make people think you’re a sissy bitch, but don’t you dare cut it.”
“Why?” he asks while absented-mindedly reaching for his head.
“That’s great hair, for one thing. And for another, nothing makes a man weaker than giving up what he wants to impress other men,” I say and sip my coffee. “Can you imagine a man like Oz changing his appearance to impress Joker? No fucking way. Joker doesn’t worry how you view him either. Men with power don’t bow to other men with power.”
“Is that why you’re so sexy?” he asks without an ounce of flirtation. “You know your beauty won’t stop you from getting respect.”
“I’m sexy because I know no other way,” I say with a straight face for all of ten seconds before laughing. “My mother was an attractive woman. Very natural too. Didn’t need fancy makeup or clothes to be beautiful. I wish I took after her more.”
For years, I nearly forgot my parents existed as if I’d been spawned by the universe with no past to hold me back. Lately, though, my mother pops in my head too often.
“What was her name?”
“Elaine,” I say, seeing her face so clear in my mind that I nearly reach out to touch it. “I never knew her middle name.”
Glitch drinks his coffee for nearly a minute before reaching across the small, round table to caress my cheek. Only then do I realize I’m crying.
“What the fuck?” I grumble loud enough to gain the attention of a lady suit at the next table. I catch her annoyed gaze and hold it. “Turn your busy-body ass around and mind your own fucking business.”
The woman shifts in her seat, shooting me a dirty look before her back faces me. I smile at her irritation, but I’m only distracting from my unexpected tears.
“I don’t know why I’m such a wimp today. I wonder if Anise slipped me something last night.”
“It’s the weather,” Glitch says, leaning back in the plastic chair before realizing it won’t hold him. “Seasonal disinfectant disorder or something.”
“Disinfectant?”
“I said ‘or something.’ Oz’s mom gets depressed during winter because of the constant gray skies and cold weather. It makes her think of her childhood in Hawaii. That’s probably what you have.”
Studying Glitch, I finish my coffee before standing. “That’s smart, and you’re probably right. I guess that means I’ll be a wimp for another few months since that stupid rat said winter would be six extra weeks.”
“Groundhog,” he corrects. “Like the movie.”
“Anything with those teeth is a rat to me.”
Glitch thrusts out his front teeth and does a spot-on impression of a rat. I’m both impressed and grossed out.
“Don’t make that face during sex. It’ll kill my groove.”
“Fine, but only if you stop saying ‘lickety-split’ whenever you want oral.”
“Can I still snap and point?” I ask, laughing at his expression.
“Sure, but I wouldn’t mind more begging if you want me to go down on you,” he says while dumping his trash and heading back to the room.
I follow him, still laughing. “You mean like how you beg?”
“Yeah, just like that.”
“Should I pout like you do when I say no?”
Glitch fights a smile until we’re in the room and I keep poking at his gut. “Huh? Well?”
Grinning at me, he pokes me in the cans. “What’s the plan for today?”
“What did Oz say about the fire starter joining your club?”
Glitch runs his fingers through his thick hair, and I wonder if he’s flirting. I can never tell with him and that hair.
“Oz says that guy can come down and hang out, but we won’t agree to patch in a stranger.”
“I wonder if this flamethrower guy is hot,” I say and climb into bed. “Man, I’m tired. Do you think my fatigue is related to my disinfectant problem?” I ask, snickering.
“Why would you care if he’s hot?”
I rest on my stomach with my head on the pillows. Sleeping all day would feel great and then I could run the streets with Anise tonight before leaving for Rawlins tomorrow. A solid plan if I’ve ever heard one.
“Clove, I asked you a question.”
Peeking back at him, I wave my booted feet in the air. “Will you take them off so I can nap?”
“No.”
“Look, I never said we’d be together forever. I might want to fuck this new guy. Well, assuming he doesn’t want to do anything weird with fire. I tried that wax thing once and it fucking hurts.”
Glitch’s jaw twitches wildly until I laugh. “I was thinking about Firestarter and Cayenne. She could use a good hard fuck to clean away the cobwebs in her cave.”
“He’s a convict, and Cayenne has a kid.”
“Cayenne’s a criminal too, and she needs a big dick, not a husband. I don’t think she’d know what to do with one anyway,” I say and then stretch out my leg to tap Glitch in the thigh. “Now that your jealousy is out of the way, will you pretty please take off my boots?”
Glitch yanks them off without saying a word. The stick up his ass from earlier remains shoved deep even after he climbs into bed next to me.
“No, thank you,” I say when he runs his fingers up my back.
“Can’t I be affectionate without it leading to fucking?”
“I don’t know. Can you?” I ask, keeping my eyes closed. “Tonight, we’ll hit up Suede and be seen by Joker’s boys. Then we might cause trouble. I haven’t chased anyone down on my Harley in a while. Could be fun.”
“Are you asking me to join you or are you ordering me?”
“Ordering you,” I mumble and smile as sleep pulls at me. “Did you see that bitch’s face when I cussed in the breakfast room? People are so easily riled up. They should be chill like us.”
I think Glitch laughs at my comment. Or maybe I dream he does. After a long night of fucking and a morning of emotional bullshit, I’m ready to sleep until the gray day is over and a night full of trouble awaits us.
Chapter Six
German Variation of Louis: Ludwig
➸ Glitch ★
I don’t think I’ll sleep, but Clove’s warm body and steady breathing lure me into a nap. Six hours later, I wake up to find Clove gone and a message on my phone saying she’s in the lobby.
Heading downstairs, I see her sitting with her feet up on the couch, likely annoying the front desk employee. I think she might be reading until I notice the distinctive colors of Candy Crush on her phone.
“What’s the plan?” I ask, sitting in the chair next to the couch.
“I thought we could grab something to eat and then head over to Suede to show off your alpha aura.”
“Show off how?”
“Start a fight maybe. I don’t know, but you seemed worried about Joker intimidating you. I’ll help you impress the local losers.”
Studying Clove, I’m wary of her sudden support. We had a fun evening, and I want to pretend we’re in a good place now. Except that was fucking, and we’ve always been great in bed.
Clove might feel guilty for making me look like shit at the first meeting. While that idea makes sense in my head, my gut suspects she has another reason for throwing me a bone.
We head to a local place to eat greasy burgers and salty fries. Clove doesn’t look relaxed in a restaurant she often frequented back in the day. I can’t help hoping she realizes she belongs in
Rawlins where we make vastly better burgers.
“I remember when this place opened,” she says after wiping her mouth. “I didn’t think they’d last a year, but I greatly underestimated the allure of cheap food.”
“Are you still thinking about moving back here?”
“No,” she instantly answers. “My nostalgia ended after Anise told me a pack of wild dogs was hunting people near the apartment. I forgot how shitty the shitty side of Little Memphis is.”
“Wild dogs, huh? We have them in Rawlins.”
“I’ve never seen any.”
“I’ll show you where they hang out when we get back,” I say and hand her one of my salty fries.
“No, that’s okay,” she says and hands me one of her salty fries.
“Oz considered killing them. He worried they’d head out to his old house where all the wild cats live.”
“Huh, Rawlins sounds like a craptown too. Why do we choose these places to live?”
“Where else are we going to live? Little Rock? Come on.”
Clove grins before taking a bite of her burger. “While you were snoozing,” she says with her mouth full, “I considered what Joker and his guys told you about someone from Little Rock trying to grab up Rawlins. Don’t his worries seem kinda random?”
“He thinks we’re weak. How is that random?”
“He’s met Oz, and he knows the crew has your club’s back. Why is he so fucking worried?”
“Are you hinting that my hair made him worry?”
Clove throws her head back and laughs wildly. A guy nearby checks her out for the third time since we arrived. I consider throwing my drink at him. Before a fight breaks out, Clove throws a fry at me.
“I was serious. No hair jokes,” she says even while giggling. “I think Joker’s worried about his ass, not your lovely mane.”
“It really is lovely,” I say, flipping back my hair. “But why would he be worried about his ass.”
“I don’t know, but Little Rock might not be the problem. It’s possible Little Memphis is facing a threat from Big Memphis. The local club guys are older, and Joker’s enforcers are whipped bitches. I don’t care how tough Ford and Pax might act. Men hesitate when they have someone waiting for them at home. It’s human instinct for even the biggest dicks to go a little soft once a woman owns their balls.”
“So you think...” I pause and consider what she’s saying. “I don’t get your point. Why imply we’re weak if he’s the weak one?”
“If I had to guess, he misses having Pepper around,” Clove explains and then leans forward and whispers, “Our sniper was quite good at getting rid of the club’s problems. Do you remember a year ago when the news reported about a possible serial killer in Memphis? They thought the shootings might be by another DC Sniper-style killer. Well, let’s just say those victims weren’t random.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“Don’t you ever lash out at harmless people because you’re stressed about a threat?”
“No,” I mumble with a bite of hamburger in my mouth.
“You’re so well-adjusted it makes my sphincter flinch.”
Grinning at the thought of her lovely asshole, I say, “I don’t need to lash out at innocent people. It’s my job to pound assholes. That’s who I take out my troubles on.”
“In Joker’s mind, you’re a bad guy. So am I.”
Shaking my head, I don’t follow her logic. Clove throws another fry at me. “Your manners are shit,” I grumble.
“You’re not wrong.”
“But I think you are wrong about Joker.”
“What’s more logical? He sees you as a wimp or Joker’s edgy because he sent assets to Rawlins that he wishes were here.”
“Why send away those assets then?”
“He technically sent Ginger. No one knew specifically who’d go with her. Of course, Pepper pretty much lives inside Ginger’s anal cavity so only a moron wouldn’t assume she’d move south.”
“Why can’t he ask Pepper to handle his problem if the crew is still aligned with his club?”
“Maybe he did, and she said no.”
“Why would she?” I ask, very curious about the inner workings of the crew.
“Because her woman’s pregnant, and even women lose their balls when they have someone waiting at home.”
I admittedly often forget Pepper and Bay are married. They’re not touchy-feely, and my brain decides they’re best friends rather than lovers. Yeah, though, Bay’s pregnancy would put a damper on Pepper signing onto a killing spree. I wouldn’t sign on for a dangerous job if I had a kid on the way. Clove isn’t wrong about the soft balls thing.
➸ Clove ☆
Suede’s only cool quality is the hula-dancing dolls behind the bar. They wiggle and sway to whatever song is playing, having more fun than anyone in the dump. I catch sight of them the moment we enter while Glitch catches the eye of one of the live dolls working at Suede.
Her nametag says Trixie, but I bet she’s really an Emma or Sarah. The bar’s waitresses act as easy lays for the bikers. Apparently, screwing an Olivia isn’t as rewarding as banging a Gigi or Shasta.
“Welcome,” Trixie says, wearing a big, pink smile. “Are you the biker from Rawlins?”
“Are you a narc?” I ask her immediately. “Do I need to check for a wire?”
Trixie never misses a beat. “You crew girls are so funny,” she says to me and then focuses her smile on Glitch. “What’s your name?”
“Glitch,” I answer before he can. “Like he’s got something defective about him.”
In response to my comment, Trixie honest to goodness fucking giggles. While her lips never stop smiling, her eyes bat at him.
“Glitch is a really cool name,” Trixie says and reaches for the zipper on his jacket.
Having seen this move used on dumb men many times, I know she’s just looking for a reason to touch him. Bare skin would be better, but his face is out of reach, and his hands are shoved into his pockets. Trixie works with what she can find. I respect her wanting to hook up with the new, hot guy, but Glitch is my hot guy.
“Nothing grosser than two women fighting over a man,” I tell Trixie. “With that said, if you don’t back off pronto, I will carve my initials in your forehead.”
Trixie knows better than to mess with the club’s old ladies. I’m not one, and she considers challenging me. Then something intelligent clicks in her pretty fat head and she backs off.
“Sorry to offend.”
“No problem, babe,” I say while hugging Glitch’s arm. “I just protect what’s mine, you know?”
Trixie steps back and turns away in a fetching twirl. I sometimes wish I could live as purposeless as a club twat. Why can’t my life revolve around begging for tips and getting laid?
“You need to stop treating me like property,” Glitch mutters, frowning down at me.
“Never.”
“Can I treat you like a piece of meat?”
“You know I like it a little rough, so have at it tonight when we’re naked in bed.”
“You do like it rough,” he says, no longer pretending to be a pissed bitch. I know he wants me to mark him publicly. It’s why his hand is snuggled in my back pocket. Ass touching is the universal redneck sign of possession. If you own an ass, you own the entire fucking person.
Smiling up at him, I smooth down a few wayward hairs in his beard. “I do like it a little rough.”
“I think you could go rougher.”
“Rougher with you?” I ask, pressing my jean-covered rosebud against his thigh. “I could do that.”
“Tonight, we’ll see who can take it rougher.”
“There’s no question on that. You’re cooler with rough, but I’m up for proving it takes a lot of pain to make you cry.”
“Did you just admit I’m tougher than you?”
“No,” I say, nearly humping his muscular thigh. “Though I’m concerned I just agreed to a vagina annihilation.”
“A what?”
“You know, a snatch sundering,” I say, now laughing at his expression. “A pussy pulverizing.”
“My dick is many things,” he says as his free hand caresses my jaw. “It’s been call amazing, awe-inspiring, and even intimidating, but it has never been a weapon of mass destruction.”
Reaching up on my tiptoes, I loudly whisper, “I call it ‘the golden doodle,’ but I get your point.”
“Why golden doodle?”
“I’d just watched a show about that breed when you first talked me into bending over for some sweaty action. When I saw your dick, I thought, ‘Now that’s a golden doodle.’ The name just stuck.”
“You’re weird.”
“You can call my vagina ‘sisig.’”
“What’s that?”
“A Filipino dish that’s simply delicious.”
Glitch stares into my eyes for the longest time, and I wonder if he’s offended. I don’t know why he would be, but it’s not like he and I know each other that well.
“You need to stop,” he murmurs against my lips. “I am here to make a good impression, and you’ve got my brain stuck on eating out your yummy sisig.”
I smile casually, but my heart is beating something fierce. Until this trip, I managed to keep Glitch at a distance. Not an easy feat considering we screw a few times a week. Now we’re forced to act as each other’s anchors in the dangerous oceans of Little Memphis. Without barriers in our way, I see Glitch so much clearer, and he’s better than I imagined.
And I’m in serious trouble if I ever want to make our relationship casual again.
➸ Glitch ★
After teasing me into a rock-hard erection, Clove decides to order a shot of vodka and sit at the bar. Half of the booths are full of bearded men. If they’re members of the local club, Clove makes no notice of them, and they don’t dare give her a single look.
I knew the ugly history of the crew when they arrived in Rawlins. They were scary foxes, but Clove had me from the moment I met the exotic beauty. I knew no woman even half as beautiful would ever enter my life, so I had to have her.