by Chiah Wilder
A dark look crossed Muerto’s face. “You got a man?”
“Correction—had a man. I dumped his ass when his wife showed up with their three kids on our doorstep. Never saw that coming.” She grabbed her napkin and twisted it in her hands. “Enough about me. What about you? How’d you get mixed up with the Night Rebels?”
He laughed. “I didn’t get ‘mixed up’ with them. I joined them, and it was the best fuckin’ decision I’ve ever made. Not much else to tell. I got two sisters. Laura’s a couple of years older than me, and Rosa is a few years younger. Rosa’s an accountant and works for a big Denver firm. I’m pretty fuckin’ proud of her. She’s the first one in our family to go to college.”
Raven’s heart melted a bit when she saw the pride in his eyes. “That’s awesome. Are you close to your mom and dad?”
“My mom? Hell yeah. My dad? Hell no. He cut out on us a year after Rosa was born. We’d hear from him occasionally, but he never paid a fuckin’ penny in child support. The selfish bastard always made sure to find jobs that paid him under the table. My mom worked her ass off to give us a good, safe life. I admire the hell outta her.”
“That must’ve been real hard on her. I don’t know how women can do that.”
“When they love their children more than life, they find the strength. My dad eventually moved to Texas, and we haven’t heard from him in a long time. And I’m totally cool with that because if I ever see him, I’ll probably do something that’ll land me in the state pen.”
She laughed, but she didn’t doubt for a moment that he was serious. “Does your mom live with your sister?”
He shook his head. “She’s still living in our same house. Ramon lives with her. She met him a couple of years ago, and I was happy for her. She gave up her life for us for so long, and it was time she started living again, you know? I like Ramon. When my mom told me about him, I found out where he worked and went to the auto shop. I told him that if he respects, cherishes, and treats my mom right, we’ll be friends for life, but if he disrespects her in any way, he’ll gain the worst enemy. He got the picture. It’s all good.” Leaning back in his chair, he put his hands behind his head. “I’ve never talked this much to a chick in my life.”
Warmth spread through her. “I’ve never shared that my dad was a pool shark with any man, even Brent. It must be the margaritas.”
He dropped his hands and pressed next to her. “I like it when you’re filled up with booze. You’re not so….”
“Bitchy?” she offered.
“No, not that. I actually like your bitchiness. You’re a nice change from the women who always want to please me. I was trying to say you’re not so argumentative.”
“I’ve always had to fight for myself. I guess it’s just in my nature.” She licked her lips, then smiled softly. “I like getting to know the man behind the arrogance and badass swagger.”
“I have a badass swagger?”
She poked him in the ribs. “You know you do, and you love having it. I’m sure you worked hard on it all through your teens.” Brushing her fingers across his hand, she smiled. “You have it perfected, and when I’m not pissed at you—which isn’t very often—I think it’s a damn sexy walk.”
He smirked.
The overpowering smell of bleach and white vinegar filled her nostrils. Looking around, she noticed bussers and some of the waitstaff spritzing cleansers on the tables and wiping them down.
“I think they’re trying to tell us they’re closing. The place is practically empty.”
Glancing at his phone, he chuckled. “I didn’t realize we talked for so long. The time flew by. I enjoyed talking with you.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” she joked. “I enjoyed it too.”
As they walked to the parking lot, she wished he’d take her hand. What am I saying? I can’t go there. He would most certainly break my heart. I can’t afford that to happen.
“Have you ever been on a motorcycle?” his voice interrupted her thoughts.
“No. I’d be too scared to get on one.”
“I’ll have to show you sometime that there’s nothing to fear. A rider gets into trouble when he doesn’t respect the power of the bike. If there’s respect, then all goes well. I’ll bet once you take a ride, you’ll be hooked. There’s something about the feel of the openness, the wind around you, the sun on your back. It’s pure freedom and adrenaline. It’s so fuckin’ addictive.”
“You make it sound like something I’d like to try.”
“You will. I’ll make sure of it.”
A metallic burgundy Harley with a skull hood ornament and gleaming chrome stood in a parking space. “Is this your bike?” He nodded. “It’s awesome. It’s so big. The motorcycles I see are way smaller than yours. This one screams power and speed.”
“It’s a fuckin’ awesome bike, and the ride is outta this world.” She swore she saw his chest puff out. “The ones you’ve seen have been rice burners. No bike is worth shit unless it’s a Harley. They’re a hundred percent American-made, and they can kick any rice burner’s ass. Imports suck big-time.”
She smiled, loving the way he became so animated when he spoke about his motorcycle. One day she’d have to see what the fuss was all about. Picturing herself behind him, her arms wrapped around his firm, tapered waist, his back muscles rippling under his skintight muscle shirt, definitely made her body tingle. “Here I am,” she said when she got to her Impala. “Thanks for walking me to my car.”
“I’ll follow you home to make sure you get there okay.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ve managed to get myself home for a long time.”
“That’s true, but I didn’t know you before. I do now, and I wanna make sure you’re good. You’ve had a few drinks and you’re a small woman. How tall are you, anyway?”
“Five four.”
“You look taller. It must be your heels. By the way, what happened between you and the dude buying your drinks all night at Balls and Holes?”
“Dave? Nothing.”
“Good.” He took the keys from her and opened the car door. “I’m following you home. No argument.”
“Ridiculous,” she grumbled as she slid into the driver seat. She switched on the ignition and he closed the door. Before taking off, she waited for him to start his Harley.
When she got to her house, she parked on the street and got out. He was already waiting on the sidewalk for her.
“Why didn’t you pull into the garage?”
“It won’t open. I called the management company, but Deanna wasn’t too helpful. I’m not sure if it’s her personality or if it’s me, but it seems like she’s got a real problem with me. I don’t know why.”
“You should’ve called me. I’ll get the guy out on Monday morning to take a look. I’ll speak to Deanna.”
“Don’t do that. She hates me enough already.”
When they were on the porch, her stomach clenched when he looked through his key ring. Shit! He’s gonna find out I changed the locks. I’m not up for his anger when he finds out. I actually had a good time with him.
“I must’ve left the tenants’ keys at home. I thought I had them on this key ring.” He shoved them in his vest pocket.
As she took out her key and slipped it in the lock, he stood right behind her, his hot breath on her shoulders. Moving her hair aside, she heard him inhale sharply.
“I didn’t expect that. What a kickass tattoo. It looks like a painting.” He softly kissed the purple rose on the back of her neck. She shivered despite the heat, and when his hands grasped her shoulders as he kissed her more ardently, a small moan slipped through her parted lips. Then she turned the lock.
“You want me to come in?” he asked thickly.
She swiveled around, her back against the door. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea. I think we’ve both had too much to drink.”
A startled look crossed his face, and as his features hardened, he stepped back. “Whatever. Just
wanted to make sure you got home safely.” He jumped off the porch and walked to his bike.
As he rode away she wondered if he was rushing off to see Ruby—whoever she was. Thinking about another woman enjoying his soft lips on her body made her feel empty. You’re the one who turned him away. Her brain knew it was the right thing to do, but her body was so fucking pissed at her. It wanted more of his touch, craved his mouth against hers, his tongue licking the ache between her legs, his fingers—
Stop it! You know this would never work out.
Opening the door slowly, she smiled when she saw Sooty waiting for her, her luminous green eyes fixed on Raven’s face. She shut the door and locked it, glancing outside one last time as a part of her wished he’d come back, knowing he never would. He wasn’t the type to beg or chase a woman, too used to them doing that to him.
“Looks like it’s just you and me again,” she murmured as she picked up Sooty. She quickly changed her clothes, then came back to the living room and sank down on the couch. It was another night of staring at the TV screen, but that time, instead of thinking about jewelry designs, she thought about Muerto pleasuring a woman named Ruby. She’d wanted to ask him earlier at the restaurant who Ruby was, but she didn’t want him to think she cared.
But she did care. A lot.
Chapter Nine
From the large tree across the street, I waited for her to come home. She’d left a few hours before and I’d thought she would’ve come home by now since she rarely went out. I knew. I’d been watching her for the past several days. A low rumble drew my eyes up to the inky sky, but there wasn’t a cloud in sight, just winking lights surrounding an almost-full moon. The continuous deep, resonant sound came closer, and I clung to the trunk of the oak tree, wondering if a downpour would follow the thunder. Then I saw him round the corner on his Harley, the sound of his bike shattering the normalcy of the neighborhood. A breath caught in my throat. So that’s why she’s late. She got out of her car as he cut the engine, and quietness was once again restored.
They walked up to the porch, and I saw him press against her. The black-haired girl let him touch her. What a slut. A twig snapped under my foot and I held my breath. I couldn’t have them see me. I didn’t want her to know I was on to her. She would find out soon enough what happened when a woman whored around.
My mother had been right about not trusting women. She’d told me they were all wanton whores who’d spread their legs on command. I hadn’t believed it, really. I knew she’d blamed the cunt with the overly made-up face for taking her husband—my father—away from us. I’d blamed her too. My dad had been a great guy who’d always had time for his family until he’d met her at his office. Soon, our family dinners were just Mother and me. At first he’d pretended to be working late, but later he didn’t give a fuck what we thought. All he wanted was his mistress’s pussy. It was like he was a slave and she was the master, commanding what he could and couldn’t do. When he finally left us for her, she used him hard and, in a couple of years, she’d thrown him out when he didn’t have any more money or energy to give.
He’d come back home and Mother took him in, nursing and reminding him every day what he’d done to us. She’d tormented him until he died. I often thought he’d willed himself to die just to get away from Mother, but I never blamed her; he’d broken her heart in the worst way.
Voices murmuring drew me back to them. Is he kissing her? Is she planning to fuck him? If she lets him in, I don’t know what I’ll do, but I can’t lose my head. I’m not ready yet. It’s too soon.
I bet she was one of those women who liked flowers—roses—and demanded that a man give them to her. Blood red ones because it meant that the man had fallen hopelessly under her spell. And I was convinced it was a spell. There were women who knew how to make a man fall in love with them even if he didn’t want to. They were seductresses, and they only wanted to show a man that they could get him. After their little game was finished, they’d chew him up and spit him out.
She was like that. I should’ve known that about her. I should’ve sensed it, but I didn’t. Now I did.
Chuckling, I had to put my hand over my mouth to make sure they didn’t hear me. He was leaving, and she looked so forlorn. Good for you, bitch! Your tight ass and tits couldn’t lure him in, but you’ll try again. Cunts always do.
But wait… he looks mad. I could tell by the way he sped off that he was angry with her. Why do men keep falling for women who are such sluts? I stepped away from the cover of the oak tree, my eyes glued to the picture window, hoping to be a voyeur of her loneliness and possible rejection. But no such luck; she closed the blinds and locked her discontent up. Fucking bitch! She robbed me of the pleasure of her pain, but I’d be back. I had to. I had to make sure things didn’t progress between them.
As I crept down the slight slope onto the sidewalk, a thought seized me. What if she calls him back? A man can’t resist a willing slut. I’m sure he’d come right—
“Oh, I’m sorry.” The elderly woman was apologetic behind me. “I didn’t mean to bump into you. I didn’t see you.”
She looked vaguely familiar, and I scanned her face which was partially illuminated by the moonlight. It took a few seconds for the memory to surface. That’s right. She was the cashier at Bartell Drug Store, the place that still had the lunch counter in the back. I’d eaten there many times, but it’d been a while since I’d been there. Why is she out so late? Don’t freak out. She probably won’t recognize me. Just stay cool….
“No worries. I didn’t see you either.” Don’t engage in any conversation. Keep moving on.
“I was concentrating on Teddy.” She looked to her left and I saw a small white dog sniffing around a bush. “We were out for our walk before we retired. It’s such a beautiful summer night.”
Just be polite. I nodded and turned my face away from the streetlight.
With a wave, she pulled lightly on the leash and walked past me as she made her way down the block. A strangled breath came out through my chapped lips. That was too damn close. I couldn’t be spotted anywhere near the slut’s house. I’ll have to be more careful next time. And there would be a next time, and another one after that until I was ready to kill the bitch. And when I did, it would be so sweet.
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I walked to my car that was parked four blocks away. Using a car would make someone think I lived away from the neighborhood in case the police ever got involved. As I opened my car door, the yellowed glow of lit homes reminded me that it was Saturday night and people were still up. The murmur of voices floated on the warm breeze.
Patricia! That’s the name of the woman who bumped into me. Of course. I’m surprised she didn’t recognize me. Switching on the ignition, I headed out of the neighborhood.
The next time I came out, I’d have to watch out for Patricia. If she happened to bump into me again, I’d have to show her what happened to people who weren’t careful.
I clucked my tongue as I hung a right on Pine Street. It’ll be a shame, but I’m in survivor mode, and the only one left standing will be me.
Chapter Ten
Muerto screeched to a halt, switched off the motor, and jumped off his bike. His insides were burning as he stormed into the clubhouse and made a beeline for the bar. When he came up to it, a cold bottle of Dos Equis waited for him. As he guzzled it down, Chains and Goldie joined him.
“How’d it turn out with the dark-haired beauty?” Goldie asked as he motioned for Ruger to bring him a drink.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Muerto snarled.
“Did you fuck her or not?” Goldie picked up his beer.
“Nothing happened.” Ignoring their widening eyes, he leaned over the bar. “Ruger, give me a double Jack.”
“We gotta cut the music and have a minute of silence to mourn the death of your goddamn charm,” Chains said as the corners of his mouth twitched.
Goldie busted out laughing. “I never thought I’d see the day
when a chick turned you down. And she seemed into you. What the fuck did you do?”
Muerto stewed while his two buddies ribbed him, and when Sangre came over, he’d decided that if the brother started any shit about it, he’d punch his fucking lights out.
“What’s so funny?” Sangre asked as he took a handful of chicharrónes—fried pork skins—and popped a few in his mouth.
“A chick turned our brother down,” Chains said as Goldie sniggered.
Sangre lifted his eyebrows, then finished chewing. “Is that true?” Muerto narrowed his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes. It seems the chick isn’t interested in men.” He scooped up another handful of chicharrónes.
Muerto jerked his head back. “It could be. Hell, I never thought of that. It makes a lot of sense.” That explains why she didn’t want me to come in. No woman’s ever turned me down before. Fuck. I definitely read her wrong.
“Maybe you can convert her,” Sangre said.
“That’d be a lot of fun.” Goldie winked.
“Maybe. She’s so hot that it may be worth the effort,” Chains chimed in.
“She may be bi. I mean, I fuckin’ know when a woman’s flirting with me, and she was totally doing that with me. I bet she’s bi and is more skittish with men.”
“Who’s bi? You?” Paco sat next to Muerto, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
The muscles in Muerto’s body tensed and he bared his teeth. “Fuck no.”