I extended my hand, “I guess that’s all I’ve got. I appreciate everything, King.”
He nodded his head and shook my hand. As he released my hand from his grip, Toad stood from the loveseat and quickly walked toward the door. As he reached the entrance and stopped, King inhaled a shallow breath and laughed as he exhaled.
“Damn, your boy Toad’s ready to get the fuck out of here. Doesn’t even want to shake my hand,” King chuckled.
Toad turned around and stared at King. The look on his face wasn’t one of gratitude or thanks. If looks could kill, King was a dead man.
What the fuck, Toad?
Toad dangled his arms at his side and popped his neck, “I don’t know you, King. And out of respect, I was going to leave here without embarrassing you. But now that you mentioned it, I’ll explain something to you. You called me boy twice now. I’m not a boy, and I haven’t been for some time now. You might have helped the club, and you might be doing Slice here a solid, but you’ve got nothing coming from me, you disrespectful prick. And, if you don’t agree with me, you can step up here on the porch and I’ll whip your ass in your own home. Don’t disrespect me again, motherfucker.”
Toad turned, opened the door, and walked outside. I glanced toward King. He shrugged and lowered his shoulders.
“Shit Slice. He’s right. I didn’t even realize I’d said it. Now that he mentioned it, I guess I did. I’ve done time in the joint, and a lot of it. Hell, I know better. If you will, explain to him I’m better than that. Hell, just let yourself out, and tell Toad I apologize.”
“He’s a hot-head, King. And he won’t take shit from any man. I ain’t saying he’s wrong. But I didn’t even notice. I’ll tell him what you said,” I said as I slapped King on the back.
“I’ll be in touch,” he responded.
As I walked toward the door, I considered King’s advice. If there were two people I knew I didn’t need to question regarding the robbery, they were Toad and Otis. Thinking of any of my brothers crossing the club wasn’t easy, but King was right. Desperate men make desperate acts. As I stepped onto the porch, I immediately noticed the lick ‘n stick seat still on the fender of my bike. I looked down at my watch. Hell, another hour and a half, and the sun would be up. Realistically, I realized I should get some sleep.
But first things always come first.
I needed to put that seat to use.
AVERY
Living life is similar to assembling a puzzle without the box to show you what it will look like when you’re done. One piece after another pressed into place until eventually you begin to understand just what it is that sits before you. If you don’t try to push the pieces into place, no progress is made, and you never truly know if they would have fit. When they do snap into place, everything starts to make sense, one little piece at a time.
I initially became attracted to Axton because he was a very handsome man. Hell, anyone who looks at him would agree, regardless of whether or not they were attracted to other aspects of who he was. He was simply drop dead gorgeous. Now, I was even more attracted to him, and for reasons other than his good looks.
More than likely contrary to what most other women would feel in his presence, he caused me to feel safe. I felt as if nothing or no one could or would harm me when I was in his presence. One thing that always fascinated me about carrying my gun was how I felt safe, powerful, and as if no one could penetrate the barrier the gun created. The gun provided me a false sense of hope. Hope of no one stepping into my bubble and snapping a piece of my puzzle into place I didn’t necessarily want.
Simply standing next to Axton, I felt invincible.
When he was gone, I felt vulnerable and powerless.
I sat outside a coffeehouse in Riverside, sipping on a cup coffee and wondering just what piece of my puzzle Axton was going to snap into place. I was anxious to step back when he was done and see just what direction my life was headed and if the piece were in a place where I could make sense of what the end result would be.
“So, I rolled that motherfucker up and strapped it to the bottom of the apes. Hell, it’s how all those Chicano bikers do it out in California. I figured what the hell, my sixty thousand dollar blanket,” he said as he nodded his head toward his bike.
His motorcycle was parked in the street, against the curb. For all practical purposes, it had been stripped of all accessories. It didn’t have blinkers on the rear, only a license plate. In the front, it had a headlight, running lights, and blinkers, but only because they were an integral part of the headlight assembly. On the bottom of the ape hanger handlebars, he had strapped the Mexican blanket the money was wrapped in. It truly looked like it belonged there.
“I like it,” I smiled.
He stared at the bike and squinted his eyes, “I hate changing shit, but I’m getting used to it. Now that seat? That’s a totally different story. I’ll never get used to that motherfucker on there, and those suction cups fuck up my paint.”
I shrugged my shoulders, “Sorry.”
“Price I got to pay,” he said as he shifted his gaze to me.
I wanted to ask him what he got in return, but with Axton I’d learned to bite my lip. So far, he and I were making progress. It was minimal for sure, but small measurable improvements nonetheless. Saying something smart-assed was my natural nature, but learning to be quiet was going a long way with him. The old adage, don’t speak unless spoken to seemed all too applicable around Axton and his group. And, as my father used to say, if it isn’t broken, don’t try to fix it.
“So, we’ve got a club barbeque coming up. I’d like for you and Sloan to come. You’ll be my guest, and Sloan will be…” he hesitated and looked down into his lap.
“Well, I don’t know what Sloan will be. She’ll be your guest,” he sighed as he looked up.
I reached down, picked up my coffee cup, and raised it to my mouth as I tried not to smile. Having him invite me to a club anything was exciting, and it was a step in the direction I wanted to take with him. Sloan going, on the other hand, didn’t excite me too much. I tipped the cup up, took a small drink, and forced myself not to smile.
“Don’t invite her on my account. She’s a big girl. She can find shit to do on her own.”
He looked across the table and clasped his hands together, “Well, I want to talk to you about that. I’m not going to try and bullshit you here. I don’t care much for that bitch. I know you two are tight and all, but something about her gets under my fucking skin. Here’s why I want her to come…”
He rubbed his palms together eagerly, “I want one or more of the fellas to rip that bitch a new ass.”
What the fuck? Rip her a new ass? What?
I leaned into the table and narrowed my eyes, “Huh?”
“You know, rip her a new ass. Like Toad and Pete or Otis. Or whoever,” he grinned.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, and I’m afraid I don’t want to.”
He leaned into his seat and crossed his arms, “You said she likes big cocks. In fact, the bigger the better is what you said. Well, I wanted her to come to the barbeque and meet some of the fellas. I can guarantee you she’ll get some cock at the barbeque. She ain’t gonna meet her groom at this motherfucker, but she’ll damned sure get herself fucked real good. Especially if she dresses the way she normally does.”
I crossed my arms and stared at him. Something about Sloan fucking one of the other members of the club appealed to me as well. Maybe more than it did to Axton. In the two weeks since the botched robbery, she hadn’t shut up about Axton. Slice this, Slice that. She had reminded me no less than two dozen times in the last two weeks that Axton was hotter than any other man she’d ever seen. It reached a point I had to continually remind her, although Axton and I weren’t a couple, and we weren’t even technically seeing each other, he was still very much off-limits. Her evening attire changed from the typical hoodie to a wife beater and no bra. Typically I’m not a jealous person, but I’d reached m
y limit on her unintended nipple salutes as well as her verbal advancements.
“So, just out of curiosity, what satisfaction do you get out of this? Oh, and before I forget, yeah, count me in. I can’t wait. Now, answer the question, please.”
He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. As I studied him, I realized I had only seen him wear two different outfits. One was jeans and a jacket the night of the gun deal. Other than that, I’d only seen him in jeans, boots, and his cut. No doubt it was fine with me, but I’d never really thought about it before.
“Well, I guess knowing the fellas won’t show her any mercy. Even if a bitch wants some cock, if she fucks a drunk biker, she’s gonna get more cock than she really ever thought possible. She’ll have a hard time walking for a week. Knowing one of the fellas beat her pussy to a pulp and walked away without so much as a hand shake would suit me just fine,” he smiled.
I rolled my eyes, “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. Seriously, it’s just wrong. But yeah, I’ll talk her into going. It won’t take much. Oh, and she says she loves sucking cocks, tell them that, too.”
“Doesn’t really matter if she likes to or not, she’ll be doing it anyway,” he chuckled.
It’s strange how a woman changes when a man steps into the picture, but thinking of any other girl flirting with, hitting on, talking to, or even thinking about Axton was enough to make me angry; Sloan included. I wanted to either win Axton’s heart, or lose him entirely, but I didn’t want anyone interfering with the process. Lately, hearing Sloan talk about how smoking hot he was caused enough tension between us to make me uncomfortable having him come by to take me for a ride. Maybe the barbeque would be just the right thing for her.
I smiled and picked up my coffee cup, “Sounds good to me. I’ll tell her. She’ll be excited. I know I am.”
“You done?” he asked as he motioned to my cup.
I nodded my head and shook my cup, “Yep. This fucker’s empty.”
“Toss it. Let’s ride,” he responded.
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” I said as I jumped from my seat and tossed the cup into the trash.
Something about being on the back of Axton’s bike made me feel special. It was as if when we rode together, I was actually his. I knew I wasn’t, but when I was on the back, and my arms were wrapped around him, it seemed as if we were one; a part of each other. Flying around the roads together having people look at us like we were different. Seeing people at stoplights giving him the thumbs up out of either fear, jealousy, or some type of appreciation; and being a part of it made me feel as if I was something or someone I always wanted to be.
To be irreplaceable, we have to clearly stand out as being different.
And when I was on the back of Axton’s bike, I was just that.
“Ready?” he asked.
I gripped his waist in my hands and pressed my feet onto the foot pegs. I leaned forward and rested my chin lightly on his shoulder and breathed into his ear, “Always.”
And I meant it.
Always.
AVERY
There’s the being honest and not necessarily saying everything, and then there’s being honest in everything you say. The former was what I was attempting to accomplish. So far, I was doing pretty well, and hoping the conversation shifted before I was tempted to say something I may very well later regret.
“No, what he said was this. See if you can talk her into going, it’ll be fun,” I said over the sound of Sloan’s hairdryer.
She switched off the hairdryer, bent over, and flipped her hair over her shoulders as she quickly stood, “I think it’ll be a freaking blast. And all those guys from the bar? God, there’s like fifty of them.”
I rolled my eyes and pressed play on the remote. Although I had never seen them in the past, I was on season three of Sons of Anarchy on Netflix. To me, Axton was Jax Teller; only bigger, meaner, and better looking. I had become an instant fan of the show, and really didn’t want it to end, but I knew it already had. I was doing my best to make the series last, but found it difficult not to watch them as fast as I could.
“You know he kind of already asked me a few weeks ago, when he came over that night looking for you. We were standing out on the porch talking, and he asked me if I liked barbeque. I told him I did. He probably remembered it from when I told him that night. He looked really tired and like he hadn’t slept in a while. I felt sorry for him. You know, I should have offered to let him sleep on the couch,” she said as she pulled her hair into a ponytail.
You overweight fucking bitch. You couldn’t even fit that fat ass of yours on his bike.
I closed my eyes and bit my lower lip. It was all I could do to not go absolutely psycho on her ass. Hopefully after the barbeque, someone would be fucking her regularly and she’d leave Axton out of her future thoughts. As the scene in SOA shifted to the lady strapped in the wheelchair in the basement, I chuckled at the thought of strapping Sloan to a chair and having ten of Axton’s biker brothers slap her around and teach her a lesson.
“What’s so funny” she asked over her shoulder as she walked past.
“It’s Sons of Anarchy. Nothing, just a funny part,” I shrugged as I looked up.
Gain weight much?
“I love that show,” she said as she stepped into the room.
I alternated glances between the television and the bedroom door as Sloan stood in front of the mirror. She appeared to be bigger and her face looked fat. It seemed as if I hadn’t seen her in the few weeks Axton and I had been spending more time together, but she never seemed to just get fat before. As she disappeared into the room, I turned to the television. Opie was standing in the street talking to Jax. I realized if Opie’s head was shaved, he’d look just like Pete. As Sloan walked in front of the mirror again, I shifted my gaze to the doorway. My eyes widened to the point I was afraid they’d fall out of the sockets.
Holy shit.
She stood in front of the mirror with her hands cupped over her bare boobs. She wore a thong, and nothing else. It wasn’t a pose I had never seen, because it was pretty common for her to stand in front of the mirror half-naked. I had never, however, seen her look as big as she did. Her ass was huge, her thighs looked like tree trunks, and her boobs looked like a one-layer round cake flattened against her chest.
I pushed pause on the remote and walked to the bathroom. I turned on the water and stood in front of the sink, looking in the mirror. I turned to my side. I glanced up and down the length of my body from head to toe. I turned half way around. I faced the mirror and turned off the water. I reached for my wrist and removed my hair tie and pulled my hair into a ponytail. It was one week before graduation, and for the first time since I began to attend college, the girl looking back at me was the one I always wanted to be. I flushed the toilet and walked out into the living room.
As I sat down and grabbed the remote, I gazed toward Sloan’s bedroom. She stood in front of the mirror in a pair of shorts and a volleyball tee.
“You look fucking hot,” I shouted.
“Really? Do you like these shorts?” she asked.
I nodded my head eagerly, “Fuck yeah I like ‘em. They make your ass look perfect. Have you like, lost weight for graduation?”
“Do I look like it?” she asked over her shoulder as she gazed into the mirror.
“Uhh, yeah. You look fucking hot,” I lied.
“Thanks, you look good too,” she grinned.
And, for the first time since Sloan and I had met, I smiled knowing she was right.
I looked good.
AXTON
I had no real way of knowing if it was the arrival of summer, the fact Corndog was getting out of prison, or some subconscious feeling of accomplishment from living through the botched robbery, but my moods in the last week or so had changed from my typical asshole self to an asshole with a sense of humor. Almost as if I was witnessing someone else go through the motions of living life, I was enjoying my exposure to myself
throughout the course of each day.
“Take ‘em off, Prospect,” I howled.
Cash surveyed the crowd. Every member of the club wasn’t present, but there were twelve watching and waiting, including me. He gazed at Otis as if the big man was his salvation, his way out, his only hope.
I crossed my arms and flexed my biceps, “Hey motherfucker, look at me when I’m talking to you. That big son-of-a-bitch can’t help you. It’s me you got to worry about. Now, I told you to drop your pants and get your cock out. You don’t have a choice. Drop ‘em.”
He reached for his belt and unbuckled it. As he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them past his boxers, everyone started pointing and talking shit. Not a one of us had any proof of the alleged choad, but we wanted to know just what he was packing before the barbeque. There were a number of single women who would be coming to the party, and having Cash trying to pick up on them and embarrassing the club by pulling out a one-inch cock would be a disaster. After a short discussion, I decided to have him pull it out so we could see if it was something that belonged in a circus.
His jeans now bunched around his knees, and standing in his boxers, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and stood as if waiting on directions.
“Prospect, if I tell you to go find a fucking dog turd and eat it, you better start sniffing. If I tell you to go cut the toe off a North Korean Communist and bring it to me on a chain, you better get on a fucking boat and start rowing straight west of here. And if I tell you to whip out your cock for me and the fellas to do a cock inspection, you better whip that motherfucker out. Drop ‘em, Prospect,” I demanded.
Cash sighed, pushed his boxers down to his thighs, and leaned back as he pressed the web of his hands into his hips. Several of the men started clapping and whistling as he pushed his shorts down. Otis and I stared in wait. As Cash stood with his hands on his hips, he lowered his gaze to the ground as if embarrassed. Slowly, his cock began to rise to attention. The crowd gathered erupted into either laughter or cat-calls. Somewhat shocked, but probably more prepared after Avery’s description than the rest of the crowd, I stood and stared as if it were a six car wreck on the freeway.
Making The Cut (Selective Sinners MC #1) Page 13