Army

by Wilder, Chiah

  “How’s your pop?” Shark asked, cracking open his beer.

  “The doctors say the same, but I notice he gets a little worse each day. I’m staying with him in an assisted living place. It helps to take some of the pressure off me.” Noe brought the beer can to his lips.

  “He’s been sick a long time, bro. You’ve given up your life for him.”

  “He used to take care of us when my ma died. He’s the best dad.”

  “My dad was the fucking worst. So there you have it,” Shark said. A comfortable silence fell between them, and Shark stared out the window at the cacti and red rocks.

  “So, how are things going with you?” Noe asked.

  “I’m bored out of my ass, but other than that things are okay.” Shark motioned for two more beers.

  “You’re always bored.” Noe chuckled and ran his finger up and down the can. “How’s Mia?” he asked in a low voice.

  Shark shook his head. “You still got the hots for her?”

  “Just asking. Last time we spoke, you said she was in Tucson, but when I went through there, the salon said she’d moved.”

  “It’s been that long since we talked?” Shark scrubbed his face. “That’s too fucking long, bro. Mia moved to Durango. She just told me that she wanted a change. I helped her get her own booth at a salon. She’s competing in MMA fights, and she kicks ass.” Shark laughed.

  “Really? I knew she was into MMA, but I didn’t think she wanted to compete,” Noe said.

  “Me neither, but she’s tough. Growing up the way we did, she had to be, you know? You should give her a call. I can give you her number.”

  “I’d like to give her a call. Now that I got help with my dad, I’d like to start dating Mia.” He glanced at Shark. “You cool with that?”

  He grinned. “Fuck yeah. I’d love Mia to be your woman. I’ve known you for years, and I know you’d treat her right.” He clasped Noe’s shoulder. “It’s good to have you here. How long are you staying?”

  “Just the night.” He looked around the room. “Where are the club girls?”

  Shark laughed. “You need some pussy?”

  “Fuck yeah. I miss pussy without complications.”

  “Then you’re in luck ’cause we got five sexy ass bitches who’ll show you a damn good time. Tonight we’ll have a fiesta.”

  After they talked, and Shark showed Noe to his room, he went into his office and called Blueman. He told him they needed the shipment in a month or less. The 39th Street asshole backpedaled a bit but then finally agreed when Shark told him he was taking his business to the Los Malos in Pueblo—the rival gang to the 39th Street Gang.

  Shark put his phone down and leaned back in his chair. The notion of Noe making Mia his woman was perfect. It would mean he wouldn’t have to worry about his sister anymore, and Noe would keep her safe. Ever since puberty had hit Mia, Noe had been in love with her. When she was a freshman in high school, Noe had asked her to his senior prom; Shark had brought his main squeeze at the time, and they’d all had a real good time.

  Shark knew Noe had it bad for Mia, so he just had to convince Mia that Noe was the perfect man for her. The more he thought about it, the more hell bent he became about them hitching up. He’d make sure it happened because when he wanted something, he always made sure he got it.

  Chapter Eight

  Army noticed the same guy he’d seen for the past two days hanging around in front of the gym when he opened the door and waltzed in. He scanned the place and a twinge of disappointment mixed with anger clenched his muscles when he didn’t see Stiletto. She hadn’t been to Champion in the past three days, and he was pretty sure he was the reason she was avoiding it. The kiss they’d share was so fucking awesome that the memory of it was still burned in his cock. All the moaning and pressing her body against his showed that she was fucking blown away by it too.

  The only thing that surprised the hell out of Army was that she hadn’t had sex with him yet. Unable to seduce a woman into his bed was unheard of for him. The longest it’d ever taken him was twenty-four hours and then the chick had come to him, but that wasn’t happening with the sexy vixen. He just couldn’t figure it out, but it was driving him wild.

  Most of the day and night was spent with Mia in his mind. It was making him damn insane, but the crazier part was that he only wanted her. Going out and finding pussy was an option, but it wouldn’t be Stiletto, and that’s who he wanted and couldn’t have. Why the hell he didn’t just move on, he couldn’t say. Maybe it was that he was used to winning, or maybe it was because her eyes were the most unusual color he’d ever seen and her body was athletic but soft under his touch.

  Army walked toward the ring where Taylor was sparring with another fighter. It’s more than the way she looks. I love the way she sasses me and how confident she is. And damn … the way she fights just gets me going. There was a lot he liked about her so far, and he wanted to get to know her better, but she wasn’t letting him. Fuck!

  By the time he reached the ring, he was all riled up and he picked up a pair of boxing gloves hanging on the hook. He slipped off his cut, and a guy built like a brick house came over to him.

  “You’re Mayhem’s brother, right?” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Go get a locker and put your cut in it. Goliath requires gym shorts, not jeans, in the ring.”

  “I got them.”

  “I’m El Toro.” He held out a meaty hand.

  Army took it. “Army. Thanks, man.” He went to the lockers and carefully hung up his cut then kicked off his boots and socks before taking off his jeans. He pulled his T-shirt over his head then closed the metal door and walked over to the ring.

  Taylor took out his mouthpiece and grinned. “You want to go a few rounds?” The dude sparring with him jumped down from the platform and went to the punching bags.

  “I gotta warn you that I’m pissed as shit and got a lot of pent-up frustration,” Army said as he went under the ropes.

  Taylor jogged in place. “Bring it on.”

  El Toro whistled and threw a headgear and mouthpiece, and Army lifted his chin to him.

  Twenty minutes into practicing their boxing moves, sweat poured down both of their backs as they jabbed, ducked, and punched each other over and over. The sparring helped to get rid of his anger, and he was giving Taylor a good workout.

  “Mia!” a woman shouted.

  Army glanced over and saw Stiletto walking toward a muscular blonde standing on one of the mats. His breathing quickened, and when she glanced over at the ring with those eyes that looked like gold in starlight, the world froze around him. Bam! Right to the side of the head. Army staggered backward, then lost his footing and fell to the floor.

  “Shit, dude, I thought you’d fend off the punch. Are you okay?” Taylor said as he bent over, his pale blue eyes dark with concern.

  For a few seconds everything blurred, then Army heard Goliath’s gruff voice. “Get Randy.”

  Taylor unlaced Army’s gloves and took them off to help him sit up. “Bring some water,” he said.

  Army spit out his mouthpiece. “Who the fuck’s Randy?”

  “He’s a doctor who trains at the gym.”

  “I’m fine. I was just distracted.” He pushed up and took the glass of water Raptor handed him and drank it down.

  “Who’d you want me to check out?” a tall dude with short brown hair asked.

  “You the doc?” Army removed the headgear. “I’m good.”

  “Let me make sure, okay?” Randy walked into the ring.

  “What’s going on, Taylor?” Worry laced Stiletto’s voice.

  “I said I’m good, doc. Back the fuck off,” Army said.

  Randy lifted his hands up and moved away as Army and Taylor stepped off the platform.

  “Army? Are you hurt?” Stiletto said, walking toward him.

  In multi-colored yoga pants hugging against her skin, Army bet she turned a few heads when she came in. She did his, and that was the
reason he got clobbered.

  Deciding to play on her sympathies, he smiled weakly. “I’m just a little dizzy. I need to sit down.”

  “You just told Randy you were fine,” Taylor said. “I better get him. You may have a concussion.”

  “Leave it the fuck alone,” he gritted, and then he saw understanding flicker in Stiletto’s eyes.

  She shook her head. “Seriously? That’s just sleazy.” She whirled around and marched away, her cute rounded ass bouncing in pants that left little to the imagination. “Greatest thing ever invented,” Army said.

  “What is?” Taylor asked.

  Army cocked his head to one side, his eyes still fixed on Stiletto’s delicious curviness. “Yoga pants. It’s like we almost get to see it all, but then we don’t. They’re the ultimate temptation.”

  Taylor folded his arms over his chest. “You’re right about that, and Mia fills them out real good … so does Kat.”

  Army didn’t give a shit about the blonde, his gaze was on the vixen who was playing with his emotions. As if she sensed being watched, she turned around and met his gaze. “She’s a real cutie,” he muttered.

  “Stay away from her,” Taylor said.

  “We’re both adults. If Stiletto wants to play, it’s not any of your fuckin’ business.”

  “She’s my friend. Anyway, she thinks you’re a jerk. She told me.”

  “So, she’s talking about me.” Army winked at her, and she turned around, her high ponytail swinging across her shoulders.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said? Mia’s not into you. She thinks you’re an asshole. Leave her alone. She’s still getting over a breakup.”

  “First—I am an asshole and women still clamor for me. Second—who was her ex? Was he a fighter?”

  “No. He seemed like a really good guy, but he kept pushing her to get married. She wasn’t ready.”

  Runs from marriage. Just my type of woman. “How long did they go out?”

  “About five or six months, I think. She met him pretty soon after she moved here. He’d always send her huge bouquets of flowers at the gym. I think it was his way of telling us guys she was taken.”

  “I don’t see her as a flowers kind of woman.”

  Taylor shrugged. “She likes them, and some guys love giving them, but her ex overdid it.” He chuckled. “I bet you never gave a woman flowers in your life besides the corsages Dad bought for your dates when you went to the school formals.”

  “Yeah, it’s not my style.”

  “You have a style? I thought it was—meet a pretty woman, charm her, bed her—rinse and repeat.” Taylor laughed.

  “You know me too well.” He clasped his brother’s shoulder. “I’m gonna walk around and see what everyone’s doing.”

  “You mean Mia.”

  “You said it.”

  “Mayhem! Are you here to train or to chat?” Raptor yelled. “Get your ass over here.”

  “Don’t piss anyone off,” Taylor said.

  “Pissing people off is what I do, bro.” Army laughed when Taylor threw him a dirty look over his shoulder as he jogged over to Raptor.

  Army scanned the room: vinyl-padded walls in burnt orange, royal-blue, seamless foam floors, designated training areas, and a fully equipped gym made up the large room. Toward the back of it, there was a dedicated warm-up area replete with jump ropes, resistant bands, and colorful mats.

  Then he saw a ponytail swishing back and forth, toned legs, a delectable ass, and the image of a dragon tatted on a sculpted back, and he quirked his lips as he headed to the yellow mat. Seeing a folding chair off to the side, Army went over and grabbed it, then sat down and focused his attention on Stiletto as she stretched her limber body. She wore a purple sports bra that showed off her flat stomach while the head of the dragon curving along her left side stared menacingly at him.

  Ignoring him, she tossed her hair and spun around. On the mat next to her, a well-built man stretched his limbs while a group of men and a few women warmed up in a series of exercises led by a short woman with arms that would put most men to shame.

  Stiletto lifted her arms above her head and reached up high. The move made her tits stand out, and Army leaned back in the chair to enjoy the view. After several basic stretches, she threw him an annoyed look.

  “Don’t you have something better to do than watch me warm up?”

  “Nope. This is the best thing going. I like watching chicks.”

  An exasperated groan flew from her lips as she dropped her hands to her hips. “Stop assuming everything women do in life stems from an effort to make you find them sexually attractive.”

  “Well … you told me.” The corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk.

  She scrunched her face then spun around and resumed stretching. With each squat, his pants grew tighter as he pictured her on all fours, her round ass wiggling and two of his fingers pushing into her slick pussy. He shifted in the seat and glanced down at his ringing phone. When he looked back up, he caught her eyeing his hard-on and he winked. A pinkish-red flush colored her cheeks and she turned away, and he chuckled as he answered the burner phone.

  “Whatcha got?” He watched Mia bend her left knee then grab the right foot and slowly straighten out her leg until it was perpendicular to her upper body, and held the position. “Hang on,” he mumbled to Lil’ Donnie as he watched transfixed. She’s so fuckin’ flexible. We could have a lot of fun. Army’s bulge grew uncomfortable, so he readjusted his shorts and then walked quickly out the back door.

  The cool night had replaced the warm day, and the distinctive smell of wood burning, damp leaves, and sweet, newly mown hay wafted around Army.

  “I’m back,” he said into the phone.

  “The deal’s going down, the middle of next month,” the snitch said.

  Army detected a tiny shake to his voice. “You good?” He knew Lil’ Donnie didn’t use what he sold, so he wondered if the drug dealer was double-dipping between the Night Rebels and the 39th Street Gang.

  “Sure. Yeah, I’m good. I just don’t want ’em knowing where the info came from, you know?” He sneezed then coughed. “I got this fuckin’ cold. Youse guys gonna protect me if shit hits the fan?”

  “We got your back if you don’t fuck up.”

  “I’ve been working for youse for a long time. I’m no double-crosser.” Two more sneezes.

  “No one ever is until they are. So, you got the date and place yet?”

  “Not the exact date, but the place will probably be the warehouse over on Trailside Road. Blueman does the bigger deals over there. I gotta go. You wanna meet at the same place for my payment?”

  “No, I’ll find you,” Army said.

  “What the fuck does that mean? You owe me!”

  “Why’re you so on edge? Night Rebels don’t go back on their word. I’ll find you … that’s all you need to know.” Army hung up then tapped in Steel’s number.

  “You got something?” Steel asked.

  “Lil’ Donnie said the buy’s going down the middle of next month at a warehouse. He doesn’t know the exact date or time yet. He seemed nervous.”

  “He’s never backstabbed us before,” Steel replied.

  Army rubbed his hand over the side of his face. “I know. Maybe he’s just scared. I’m giving him some money tomorrow.”

  “Watch your back. Are you flying your colors?”

  “Sometimes, but not when I meet up with him.”

  “It’s not a good idea. You want to keep a low profile. Never know if the fucking Pistons are around, and you don’t have any backup,” Steel said.

  “Yeah.” Army squeezed his eyebrows together.

  For outlaws, the three-piece patches they wore on the back of their cuts were their identity. They marked the bikers’ membership to their club and the territory they claimed. Flying their colors was mandatory on bike runs, rallies, and at the clubhouse, but most of the time, all of the Night Rebels wore their cuts outside the club. Army was no exception, and not
wearing his cut seemed off kilter to him. He’d been donning it for the past seven years, but the last thing he wanted was to jeopardize the club’s plan to shut down the damn Pistons and the 39th Street jerks.

  “See you,” Steel said. “Tell your brother to kick ass at his next fight.”

  “I will. He’s got a couple in the next few weeks, and if he wins them, he’ll go pro. I’m fuckin’ proud of him,” Army said.

  “Yeah. He’s come a long way from when you used to protect him from bullies.”

  Army slid the phone in his pocket and went back inside. Stiletto had finished her stretching and was beating the shit out of a speed bag when he entered the main room. Taylor called out his name, gesturing him to come over.

  “What’s up?” Army asked as his gaze drifted over to Stiletto.

  “I usually go to Berriegood on Mondays. Do you want to come along?”

  “Is Stiletto going?” Army blurted, cursing himself for it.

  “I don’t know. I told you to leave Mia alone, dude. If you don’t want to go, I can grab a Lyft or someone can drop me off.”

  If Stiletto doesn’t go, then I’m stuck drinking protein out of a fuckin’ glass. But if she does, it could be fun. “I’ll go along. What time are we heading out?”

  “In a half hour.”

  “Sounds good. I think I’ll kill the time punching the bag.” Army strode over to one of the large speed bags, slipped on a pair of yellow gloves hanging on a hook against the wall, and sank his fists into it.

  An hour later, Army followed Taylor into Berriegood and chuckled when Stiletto rushed ahead and took the seat between Raptor and El Toro. He pulled out the chair and sat next to Kat, who turned and threw him a small, seductive smile. Glancing sideways at Stiletto, he saw her sour face as Kat placed her hand lightly on his and asked why he never considered being an MMA fighter.