Bitch Slap

by Bijou Hunter

  Clearly, our romantic pussy pounding will have to wait.

  7—CRICKET

  After introducing Poet to my stone shower, I switch out of Chipper’s stolen shirt and search for looser-fitting clothes. I swear I gained ten pounds during my nap. Now I struggle to fit into even my sweatpants.

  “I need to do some shopping tomorrow,” I tell Poet as we walk out of my bedroom. “I’m getting fatter by the minute.”

  “You look sexier than hell, doll. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”

  “He’s right,” Bianca Bella says from the couch where she’s playing on her tablet. “A vision of beauty, you is.”

  “Thanks, Yoda. Makes me happy, your compliment does.”

  Bianca Bella doesn’t look up at me or take notice of Poet. The dogs do, and they’re very interested in my man’s cock.

  “Back down,” I snap at them, and they react by staring dejected at me. After all, they so very much want to sniff Poet’s crotch up close. “They’ve always had issues with crotches,” I tell Poet. “Hayes’s crotch is their favorite, but after training, they’ve at least learned to stop with the words ‘back off.’ So if your nads are ever under attack, just say those words with force but don’t yell. They react badly to being demeaned.”

  “Badly?” Poet asks.

  “Wheeler will piss on the floor, and Redondo growls.”

  “What about Lobo?” Poet asks about my monster dog now receiving the good loving from my man’s magical fingers.

  “He’s too big to care what anyone says.”

  “Someone’s at the gate,” Bianca Bella announces after getting a message on her phone. “Looks like Cap and Keanu.”

  “Yay, you can meet my baby brother,” I tell Poet while tugging him away from the adoring dogs.

  Out the front door, we hurry to the side driveway where Keanu rides up on his new Harley. Cap sits behind his BFF, looking as always like he might squish his smaller friend.

  “People call Cap ‘Lil Hayes’ because they look the same. Plus, both are rumored to have ripped off the heads of kittens and eaten them raw.”

  Poet frowns at me. “Why are you smiling?”

  “I’m the one who started the kitten head rumor,” I admit, struggling against laughter. “I can’t believe it caught on. People are such sheep.”

  When Poet studies Cap sitting behind Keanu, I expect him to mention my brother’s ginormous size. Instead, he asks, “Are they, you know, like boyfriend, boyfriend?”

  “No, Keanu is Cap’s best friend. He’s also sixteen and just got his license, so he drives Cap around. They just look funny because of the size difference. Everyone thinks Cap is older.”

  “Well, he’s like six feet at least, right?”

  “He’s a baby still. Just a sweet little adorable baby,” I coo.

  Poet smiles at my tone. “I feel like there’s an inside joke that I’m not getting.”

  “Always.”

  “Wanna share?”

  “When he was little, people claimed Cap looked like a thug because he was so big and had a serious face. Chip and I would say how he was just an itty-bitty ball of love or a peaceful cherub of serenity. Stupid shit like that because the thug thing bothers me. Cap’s a sweetie. A big sulking sweetie who is also hormonal like any normal twelve-year-old bitch.”

  “My little sister, Henrietta, is nearly the same age, and we hate her as much as you can hate someone you also love.”

  “So, a lot of hate then?”

  “Pretty much. There’s been talk about locking her in a room until she finishes puberty, but so far, no concrete plans have emerged.”

  “Teenagers are horrible, aren’t they?”

  “I wasn’t,” Poet lies in the most convincing way.

  “Oh, neither was I, but others are scum.”

  Poet and I share a smile until Cap stomps over to us. Keanu, meanwhile, moves with the grace of his mom, though he also flashes the paranoid glances of his stepdad, Dayton.

  “Who’s he?” Keanu asks.

  “This is my baby’s daddy. Poet, this is my brother and his male soul mate.”

  “Not cool,” Cap tells me and sulks even harder.

  “Don’t hurt yourself,” I say, hugging him against me. “Poet is staying here while in town. We’re having lots of sex, so you’ll want to call before coming over next time.”

  “Really not fucking cool,” Cap mumbles.

  “I know this must be a difficult time for you,” I tease. “Candy and Hayes fucking at home. Poet and me fucking here. Of course, you know never to sneak up on Chipper when he’s alone in his car or at home or in any room with an even partially closed door.”

  I can barely get through my warning without laughing. Cap’s big dark eyes are the saddest fucking things in the world, and I pity the girl who one day must defend herself against their power.

  POET

  Cricket is crazy in love with her family. She can’t stop cuddling/teasing her little brother, Cap. Despite his mopey behavior, I catch a smile fighting to take over his otherwise menacing face. The other kid, Keanu, gets some ribbing too from Cricket who messes with his black hair and asks if he’s caused any accidents yet.

  “I’m a great driver. Don’t believe the stereotype about Asian drivers.”

  “Who cares about your Korean heritage? I assumed you’d be awful because you’re sixteen, and teenagers are awful fucking drivers. The absolute worst. I nearly killed a dozen people my first day on the road. Only the Lord above kept me from doing so. Now it’s your turn to cause mayhem.”

  “Like I said, I’m a great driver.”

  “He is,” Cap mumbles.

  “Liars, the both of you,” Cricket teases and messes with Keanu’s hair again.

  He tries to back away from her, but she follows him around until the dogs decide to help corral the kid. Once Keanu is trapped between excited dogs, Cricket pokes him in the gut.

  “Lobo loves Korean barbecue.”

  “I’m not scared of your big dumb dog,” he says, petting Lobo.

  While Cricket squats down to pet her cocker spaniels, Cap studies me with his dark eyes. Yeah, I get how people think he’s a thug. Though the kid exudes menace at twelve, he’s just a gawky queef like most teenage boys.

  “Oh, Mom and Dad are coming over,” Cap tells Cricket.

  She stands up immediately and glances around. “When?”

  “Mom texted me to meet them. That’s why I’m here. They told me to come.”

  Cricket rolls her eyes at her brother’s long, babbling explanation. “Did she say anything about violence or interrogations?”

  “For me? Why? I didn’t do anything.”

  “No, roadwhore, for Poet.”

  “Who?” Cap asks, stony-faced.

  Cricket narrows her pretty eyes until they’re no more than angry slits. “Why are you pissing in my Wheaties, shit for brains?”

  “You can’t cuss once you have a baby,” Cap says, and Keanu snorts.

  “That never stopped your parents,” his friend points out. “Or mine for that matter. Well, mine did better than yours.”

  “Whatever. Can I go inside?” Cap asks Cricket.

  “Of course, you can, you useless cherub. Just flutter your wings until you’re safely inside, okay, sweetums?”

  “What?”

  Cricket lovingly bats her eyes at Cap, but I suspect she wants to smack him. I feel the same way with Henrietta on a regular basis.

  Cap and Keanu head inside with the dogs following closely behind. As they go, Cricket stares at the front gate.

  “If things get ugly,” Cricket says suddenly and grabs me dramatically, “run for the backyard. There’s a bunker underneath the animal shed. The code to enter is seventy-seven thirty-four. You’ll be safe in there for three years.”

  Laughing at her expression, I chuckle even harder when I realize she’s serious. “You have a bunker?”

  “Hayes doesn’t fuck around with prepping.”

  The front gate hu
ms as its doors slowly open. Cricket squeezes my hand and looks at me sadly. “I could have loved you,” she says full of drama before breaking into a smile and whispering, “My pussy throbs for you, pumpkin.”

  “I know. It sounds like a drum solo,” I reply sending her into hysterics that continue until an SUV complete with monster truck tires, pulls next to us and parks. The dogs apparently lose interest in Cap and Keanu because they return to the yard to sniff the newly arrived vehicle.

  Cricket steps behind me as if afraid and then changes her mind and steps in front of me as if protecting me. I maneuver her, so we’re standing side by side.

  “Don’t treat me like a pussy, lovey. A man needs to be a man.”

  “Oh, yeah,” she mumbles. “Well, I don’t want you to die, and Hayes is weird about men banging me.”

  “I’m not banging you. I’m making sweet love to your sexy body.”

  Turning to me with wide, excited eyes, she whispers, “I’ll give you a thousand dollars if you say that to his face.”

  “Deal.”

  “No, wait,” she says, snuggling closer. “Ugh, I’m torn between wanting to cause trouble and the desire to see you live another day.”

  “I’m not. A thousand dollars is plenty enough for me to take a beating.”

  “You’re making my girl dick so hard right now,” she whispers before laughing so loudly that her dogs howl like when she orgasms.

  “Shut the fuck up!” a giant man hollers at the dogs as he climbs out of his SUV.

  They completely ignore him and rush to the woman on the passenger side.

  “They don’t respect your authority, Hayes,” Cricket says. “That must make you feel so terribly small.”

  “Funny shit,” Hayes says and crosses his arms across his massive chest. “Is this the little shit who knocked you up?”

  “Yeah, ain’t he grand?” Cricket says and bats her eyes at me. “Oh, and FYI, he ain’t small where it matters.”

  “Big dicks are overrated,” the woman says after petting the dogs. “Hello, I’m Candy. You must be the man who seeded my daughter’s uterus.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

  Candy looks a lot like Cricket. Same dark eyes, strong Nordic features, and above-average height. Blonde like Chipper, she also has the twins’ habit of looking annoyed no matter what’s happening.

  “We’re going to dinner now,” Hayes announces. “Your brother will meet us there.”

  “Cap is inside.”

  “He’s staying here,” Candy says. “Bianca Bella will babysit him while we’re out.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “Yes,” Hayes grumbles. “Now get in the SUV before it starts pulling away. I won’t slow down like last time.”

  Cricket laughs. “You always say that, yet you always slow down. You’re such a fucking puss, Daddy Dearest.”

  Tugging me along, she walks to the SUV where Hayes frowns so ugly that I’d think he was planning my murder. I’m not worried, though. I get that look a lot.

  “What kind of name is Poet?” the massive, dark-haired man asks.

  “It’s Biblical, sir.”

  “Are you fucking with me?”

  “I think that’d be obvious, sir.”

  “Great, another wise-ass,” Hayes mutters while Cricket climbs into the pimped-out SUV.

  I give the big sonovabitch a grin and then follow my woman. At no point, do I feel the need to run or pull the pistol I take with me everywhere. Despite Cricket’s worries, I see this family outing as something any decent folk would arrange. After all, when my sister Matilda started dating, my dad, uncles, and Grandpa Jared scared every possible Romeo to ensure each one was on the up-and-up. I’ll expect nothing less from a man like Hayes too.

  CRICKET

  Hayes owned The Glenn before Candy moved to White Horse with Chipper and me. She took a job as his assistant, and they fell in love, and we moved into his house where he soon realized Candy was not a great cook. As such, we got in the habit of eating out especially at his steakhouse.

  The Glenn is where Hayes brings Poet for his first dinner with the family. Chipper already sits in our back booth. His head bobs to the sound of Bing Crosby singing “Mister Booze.” Hayes grumbles about how the music shouldn’t be so loud.

  “Shush,” Candy tells him. “This is the part with Sammy Davis.”

  I squeeze Poet’s hand in mine. “Have you ever seen ‘Robin and the 7 Hoods?’” He shakes his head. “Tonight, we should watch it in the home theater. Oh, and we can watch Black Hawk Down tomorrow night since I still haven’t seen it.”

  We sit at the booth where Chipper waits. Hayes wastes no time starting shit with Poet by asking, “So you’re a filthy biker, huh?”

  “No, I bathe.”

  Hayes’s dark eyes flash with irritation. “Funny, but I don’t have much use for bikers.”

  “What about Moot?” Chipper asks immediately. “He’s your best friend from way back. Don’t you share one of those BFF bracelets?”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Hayes says without much effort. “I meant bikers other than him. Besides, you know your mother is my best friend.”

  Candy looks up from the menu. “My best friend is either Ruby and Honey. You’re my favorite sex slave, though.”

  While Candy feels up Hayes under the table and he waits for the blood to leave his crotch and return to his brain, I turn to Chipper.

  “Does it hurt your heart to hear Ruby’s name?”

  “No. Does it hurt your head when I smack you upside it?”

  “Well fucking duh.”

  We share a smile, but Hayes has regained his brain power and interrupts our conversation with a kick under the table.

  “What’s your family do in Bumfuck, West Virginia?” he asks Poet.

  “My dad is the president of a filthy biker club. My stepmom is a manager at Burger King.”

  “I could go for a Whopper,” I announce. “Two of them actually.”

  “You better not get fat,” Chipper says. “When you gain weight, I do too. Dating is difficult enough without sporting a wide load.”

  “Shut your piehole,” Hayes growls at Chipper.

  “With Cricket turning into a blimp, how can I?”

  “They’re irritating me,” he says to Candy who shrugs and tells him to ignore us. “You’re not helping.”

  “I’m sorry. Why don’t you tell me what point you’re trying to make and I’ll help you get it across?”

  Hayes growls, which only elicits a smile from his wife. When he turns his gaze to me, I also smile. Hayes refuses to appreciate our happy expressions.

  “You ever been arrested?” he asks Poet.

  “Not legally.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I’m sure you’re aware the police forget how the law works on occasion. They’ll arrest an innocent guy not doing anything illegal. Then those fake charges are dropped once the innocent guy doesn’t rat out the people the police really want.”

  “Understood,” Hayes says and then asks, “You ever break the law?”

  “Never.”

  “Kill anyone?”

  “That’s both illegal and immoral, sir.”

  “You been married?”

  “No, but I will admit to losing my virginity before meeting Cricket. You know how hard it is for a young man to keep his dick holstered.”

  “Funny shit,” Hayes says like Poet’s so fucking awful, but I know the old man loves snark. After all, look at the woman he married.

  Likely wanting to throw the attention off him, Poet asks, “What kind of business does your family run, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I fucking mind.”

  “Oh, I assumed we were having a fun back-and-forth interrogation.”

  “Assume whatever you fucking want, fucker.”

  Poet grins and takes my hand. “Back in Bumfuck, when Cricket was drunk off her sweet ass, she told me how much you like that word. She. Was. Not. Wrong.”

&n
bsp; “You have any other bastards running around?”

  “No. The condom only failed with your daughter, sir.”

  Hayes grinds his teeth and looks at Candy who points to the menu. “What’s this cucumber and tomato salad thing taste like?”

  “Like fucking cucumbers and fucking tomatoes, Candy.”

  “So, it’s a salad without lettuce?” she casually asks.

  “I don’t fucking know.”

  “Didn’t you try it before allowing it on the menu?” she mutters and cocks her eyebrow.

  “I don’t okay the fucking menu. That’s your son’s job.”

  Candy looks to Chipper who stops chugging his beer long enough to nod and mumble, “It’s good. Light, tangy, salady.”

  Hayes rolls his eyes and focuses on Poet. “Do you live with your parents?”

  “No. I live in a trailer on my family’s property.”

  “Sounds fucking fancy.”

  “You have no idea,” Poet says and gives him a wink.

  “Are you a sissy who can’t live away from his family?”

  “No, I’m a man who loves and values his family.”

  “So that makes me wonder what your intentions are with Cricket. You know, since she isn’t moving to Bumfuck, and you love your family so very fucking much. Gonna have to choose there, champ.”

  Poet looks at me and exhales softly. “No choice. I know where I belong.”

  My chest tightens, and tears burn my eyes. Poet is making his claim in front of God and Hayes and the poor waiter desperate for us to order. I’ve found my man, and he knows he’s found his woman. That’s it. That’s all. Show’s over. We’re a done fucking deal.

  POET

  I don’t panic easily, but I struggle to keep my shit together once I tell Hayes I’m staying in White Horse with Cricket. She gets emotional, clearly relieved to have me stick around. I’m happy to see her happy.

  Except this town is a stranger’s home, not mine. Am I really ready to give up my trailer? What about Jimmy? Can he handle the other dogs? Will they hate him? Are four dogs too many? Is that last question even a real question? Obviously, four dogs are too fricking many.