by Kim Jones
It takes her a few tries, a couple of cigarettes and a few times of me saying ‘stick to the subject’ for her to get it out. But, I finally get the truth.
The judge refused to give me rehab when Luke first asked him. He said it was out of his hands, and that I deserved the time because we’d tried rehab and it didn’t work. When Luke told Regg, he said he’d handle it. After giving the judge twenty grand and his word that he’d make sure I was taken care of, the judge gave in to Regg’s offer. The story he gave in the courtroom was complete bullshit. It was just a show for the DA and everyone else there.
Finding out the truth has me looking at Regg in a whole new light. Why would he do that for me? Punkin was right. Twenty grand was a lot of money to spend on someone he barely knew. Was it for Luke? Did he do it because he didn’t want to see Luke hurt? Or did he do it because he didn’t want to see me hurt? I don’t know what to say to him, but I’ll have to ask eventually. I need answers. And more than that, I need to thank him.
“What do I say to him, Punkin?” I ask, pleading to her for advice.
“Say? You better do more than say. That’s twenty thousand dollars worth of something. And I don’t think talking is worth that much money.”
“I’m not a prostitute, Punkin. I’m not gonna fuck him just because he bailed me out of a bind.” Although I wouldn’t mind fucking him for just the sheer pleasure of it.
Punkin lights a cigarette, looks at me, looks at Regg and with a hopeful look asks me the question burning in her mind. “Well, do you mind if I do?”
I’m sitting with the ladies, in a circle of chairs we’ve formed so we can see everyone at the same time. The conversation is light, mostly consisting of stories from Punkin about her time in jail. A pretty girl comes around, offering everyone drinks and without hesitation, I order vodka on the rocks. At my request, the women become silent and the situation becomes uncomfortable. I’m just about to cancel the drink and ask for a water instead when Regg walks up.
“Make it a double, babe. She’s gonna need it.” The conversation picks right back up and I give Regg a grateful smile before diving back into the topic at hand.
The moment is forgotten temporarily, until the waitress returns and hands me my drink. I know what they’re all waiting on. But, I surprise even myself when I only take a sip before setting my glass on the table to light a cigarette. I’ve always been known for my ability to chug liquor like water, but I have sense enough now to know I need to take it slow. It’s a milestone for me. And it doesn’t go unnoticed by my sisters who all look at me with pride. Except for Punkin, who doesn’t even know what the hell is going on. God love her, and her scatter brained ways.
“Come with me.” Regg holds out his hand and I take it, letting him lead me to one of the rooms in the back of the clubhouse. They’re set up for the guys to have a place to sleep after long rides or when guests are in town. Judging by the clothes strewn across the room and the unmade bed, this one is already occupied. Leaving me to wonder what in the hell we’re doing in here.
“I know you miss dancing. I know the absence of it from your life is what has you so depressed. So, I wanted to do something for you.” He grabs a bag from the floor and hands it to me. Inside are beautiful pieces of lingerie that are classy, but extremely sexy. “I want you to dance tonight, Red. Everyone here loves you, and we all want to see you happy. And I think this is the cure you’ve been searching for.” I’m speechless. What is this man not capable of doing? Does his compassion not know any limits?
“Why are you doing all this for me?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. Without hesitation, Regg gives me the answer to my question.
“Something happened that first night I met you, and it’s been happening ever since. There isn’t a day that went by after that first night that I didn’t think about you. I know that girl is still in you somewhere, and I’ll do everything in my power to find her again.” I let his words sink in, and I’m still processing them long after he’s gone. I may not be in love with Devil’s Renegades Regg, but I’m sure as hell falling.
Chapter Sixteen
A New Side of Regg
Everyone was in on the secret of my dancing except for me. Even Punkin knew what was going down. And Luke, wanting to make sure I really got my chance to shine in the spotlight, invited some outsiders to the show, just to pack the house. I wasn’t nervous about performing in front of them. Strangers would be easier to make eye contact with than any of the brothers.
All the ladies were crammed into the small room that belonged to Ronnie and Brooklyn for the night. After a heated debate and a few rounds of paper-rock-scissors, I thought my outfit was finally chosen. But, Punkin, who had the final say in the matter, chose the one thing none of us had even considered. A neon orange bikini. Everyone disagreed, but since it was her night, I agreed to wear whatever she wanted me to wear.
I would only be dancing for three songs. There wasn’t really a time limit, but I didn’t want to steal the glory from Punkin. This night was about her, not me. My song choice was easily agreed on. I would open with Cherry Pie by Warrant, the first song Regg saw me dance to. My second song, Living Dead Girl by Rob Zombie was the first song Luke saw me dance to the night I made my debut. My third and final song was a dedication to all my sisters- It’s a Man’s World by James Brown.
As I prepared to take the stage, I didn’t need the rest of my drink. I didn’t need a line of coke or heroin. All I needed was the support of my family. And that’s exactly what I had.
Luke and Regg had gone all out. A ten foot by ten foot stage had been built out of wood and covered with a sheet of thick, polished acrylic. An eight foot, silver pole stood mounted in the center. The stage stood about three feet tall and chairs were lined up around it. I don’t know if it was a joke, or just an extreme measure to make me feel like I was back at Pete’s, but several burly men stood around wearing t-shirts that labeled them as ‘security.’
The lighting in the club house was dim, which wasn’t unusual, but the black lights lining the stage were clearly bought for this moment. If I wasn’t so anxious to dance, I probably would have cried. I just hoped like hell I still had it in me.
Catcalls ring out across the room as I make my way onstage. Regg had somehow managed to sneak a pair of my shoes out of my closet, and the heels clicked loudly against the floor as I rub the pole to find it smooth and already prepared for me. I offer the crowd a smile, noticing the foreign cuts and citizens that weren’t here earlier. The seats at the stage are occupied by only the ladies and I scan the room until I find Regg sitting next to Luke on a stool at the bar. I shoot them a wink when the introduction to Cherry Pie begins. Regg shakes his head, his smile wide as he recognizes the song. He wanted that girl he met a year ago, and I was going to show him she was still around. Only this time, I’d be keeping what little clothing I had, on.
I test my strength, bracing my hands on the pole and lifting my feet off the floor in a slow spin. I climb a little higher, then wrap my knee around the pole, let go and smile as my body remembers exactly what to do. It’s effortless and nothing is forgotten. I don’t pay attention to the lyrics or the crowd. I tune out everything until the only sound I hear is the beat of my heart, as it comes back to life.
I feel free. No drugs or alcohol, only me and the stage. The song ends, and I’m so lost in the moment, I don’t even give it the dynamic ending it deserved. But, when Living Dead Girl begins to play, I transform into the role and include the crowd in my performance. I find Luke first. He’s smiling, nodding his head in tune with the music and singing along. I point to him and he points back, giving me the same encouraging wink he gave me that first night years ago.
The moment is shattered when some guy screams at me over the music.
“Let’s see some titties!” He is obviously drunk, but just having a good time. I laugh at his demand, and look over to find Regg shaking his head and laughing too. He yells a few more times, and I shoot him a sad face, letting him know
I’m sorry, but he won’t be getting what he asks for. “You fucking tease, take that shit off!” I’m too happy to let him ruin my moment, plus I’m used to it. But, Regg isn’t so forgiving.
Chairs start flying, the women are screaming, fake security is everywhere. I am still dancing, but Regg is making his presence known. I watch him from the stage, loving the way his body exudes power and dominance as he walks across the room. This new side of him has me so turned on; I have to tighten my hold on the pole to keep from throwing myself at him.
There is no holding him back when he reaches the man who’d been yelling at me. His fist makes contact with the man’s jaw, and I swear I can hear the sound over the loud music. When the man tries to fight back, Regg welcomes it. He avoids the man easily, then head butts him in the nose, causing blood to gush down the front of his shirt. The club begins breaking up the fight; pulling Regg out of reaching distance of the man takes damn near all of them. Even through all the chaos, I can’t keep the smile off my face. Only one thought races through my head as I watch them hold Regg back. That motherfucker was fighting for me.
When the man is gone, Regg shakes free of the arms that restrain him and makes his way to me. He climbs the stage, walking directly up to the pole I’m still tightly clinging to.
“You okay?” His voice is calm, his eyes searching me for a sign that will tell him if I’m not. But, his body still radiates anger. This makes my pussy wetter, my desire for him stronger and my breathing heavier.
“I want you to kiss me,” I tell him, as my eyes fall to his lips. He licks them and I can tell he is struggling with his desire to give me what I want, and the effort to not make a scene. On second thought, I don’t want him to kiss me. Because I know once he does, there will be no stopping us.
He leans into me, placing his lips right next to my ear. To everyone else, it appears he’s whispering to me. But, what he’s doing is so much more.
“Dance for me, Red. And then I promise to give you want you want.” He pulls my earlobe between his teeth before pulling away and reassuring me of his promise with his eyes. I’m so worked up, I don’t know if I can dance, but the ladies at the stage are demanding I do. I hear them, but I’m only listening to Regg’s words as they replay in my head.
I stare at his back until he reaches the bar and takes his seat. When he faces me, that possessive look in his eyes is back. He wants me to dance for him, and I will. At this point, I’ll do anything he asks. Because telling him no, is the only thing I don’t want to do.
The ladies go nuts when my third song starts, and they all sing along. I’m sure James Brown would be proud if he were standing here today, because I gave it all I have on this one. I wasn’t intentionally holding back, but my moves prove that clearly, I was. By the time I’m finished, there isn’t a spot on the stage that isn’t covered with money.
I’m smoking a cigarette, chatting with the ladies who are doing their best to re-enact my moves, when a PROSPECT hands me a huge wad of bills. I don’t know how much is there, but I do know that it’s a lot.
Without a second thought, I hand the bills to Punkin, who declines on my first attempt, but has no choice but to accept it when I shove the money down her shirt. She thanks me, but there is no need to. She would have done the same for me.
“You’re crazy. I wouldn’t give it to you.” Well, maybe she wouldn’t. But, Punkin needs the money more than I do right now. It isn’t like I have shit to spend it on. Brooklyn is taking care of my smoking habit, and Regg is supplying me with food and a place to stay. I have a pretty good feeling he would be getting his money’s worth tonight.
It seems like hours pass before we finally say our goodbyes, and the ride home takes twice as long as the ride there did. When we finally make it, I walk hand in hand with Regg into the house, anticipating every second to be the one where he makes good on his promise.
I don’t know if he was crawfishin’ or just fucking with me, but he insists on cooking me something to eat. It is after midnight, but we haven’t had dinner and my growling stomach betrays me when I tell him I’m not hungry.
“What you want?” he asks, rummaging through the cabinets for something.
“Pizza.” It was simple enough. And it only took three minutes to preheat the oven, ten for it to cook and less than five for me to eat it. Not that I am counting.
“Pizza it is.”
While it cooks, we watch late night T.V. with him on one side of the couch, and me on the other. I look over at him every few seconds, noticing how relaxed he is and wondering why I can’t be that calm. I wasn’t a nun, but it’s been a while since I’ve been intimate with anyone. In my profession, you didn’t just sleep with random people, because chances were they had something. Even at my lowest, I hadn’t succumbed to sleeping with just anybody. I’d come close, but never went all the way. Thinking of this reminds me of how much I don’t know about Regg.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” It was an honest question. One I already knew the answer to. I hoped.
He smiles at me, mutes the T.V. and repositions himself so that we’re facing one another.
“No, Red. I don’t have a girlfriend. Do you have a boyfriend?” His tone is mocking, almost like our conversation is too juvenile for his ears.
“No. Have you ever had a girlfriend?”
“What is this? Twenty questions?”
“Just answer the damn question, Regg. Have you ever had a girlfriend?” He looks at me like I’m crazy before shaking his head.
“Yes, I’ve had girlfriends.” Girlfriendssss. As in more than one. What a whore. “I was engaged for three years. She was my world. She broke my heart and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” There is no sadness in his words, no remorse over the loss of his fiancée. It’s actually a little sad.
“What about you?” I’m saved by the bell when the timer goes off on the oven. I start to get up, but his words halt me.
“That’s the five minute warning. Talk.” Five minute warning? Ovens have that?
“I dated a few guys on and off through high school. Met a few at the club. But, I’ve been dancing since I was eighteen. It pretty much consumed my life. I’ve never made the time for a relationship. I’ve never really found anybody I wanted to give up my career for.” As I say this, I realize how pathetic my life actually sounds.
“So you’ve never been in a serious relationship?”
“I mean, yeah. They were serious just not… that serious.” What the hell was the definition of serious? Proposing? Starting a family? Moving in together? “I cared about them, hell I may have even loved a few, but I’m only twenty-three. It’s not like I’ve had time to find someone to settle down with.” My excuse is weak, but in my defense, I’ve only been an adult for five years. That wasn’t very long. Was it?
“How old are you?” I ask, feeling stupid for not even knowing his age.
“Twenty-six.” Old fart.
“I didn’t realize you were older than Luke.”
“I didn’t realize Luke was so young.” That playful, sexy smile is on his face and I feel a big, goofy grin crawl across mine. We sit there a few minutes longer, neither one of us really knowing what to say.
“Shit! The pizza,” Regg says, jumping up.
“I thought it had a five minute warning?” I ask, running behind him into the smoky kitchen.
“I lied.” Of course he did.
Chapter Seventeen
Them @!#$%^%$#^&*@ Chicken Houses
“Best pizza ever.” I’m lying. He knows I’m lying. The truth is, I’m too excited to eat anything. I just want him to kiss me. I want him to grab me with one strong arm, clear the table with the other, throw me down on top of it and fuck me into oblivion.
Okay, so maybe that’s a little dramatic. But I know what I want-the man sitting next to me, dressed in leather who has a face that would look great between my legs. And I’m pretty sure by the way he is looking at me, he is thinking about how great his face would look there
too.
“Shit.” Regg’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he pulls his phone from inside his cut. I watch anxiously, praying like hell that it’s not the club needing him to go somewhere. What in the hell would I do? How would I make it? I’m a huge ball of sexual tension and I need Regg to massage my knots of need.
“Knots of need?” Motherfuck me.
“Hmm?” Please tell me he didn’t really ask that.
“You just said, ‘I have knots of need.’” He looks amused. I’m humiliated. We make such a great couple.
“Who was on the phone?” I’ll change the subject; he’ll go back to rolling his eyes at the reminder of the nuisance on the phone. All will be good.
“What is a knot of need?” Maybe I should just vomit. That would be a nice distraction. Or, I could just pretend to pass out.
“Red?” Or I could just answer the question.
“What I said was, ‘I’ve got to pee.’” I watch him to see if he buys it. He doesn’t. But, he does shed some mercy on me.
“Well go pee, and hurry up. We gotta go to the farm.”
“What?”My knots of need have vanished. My sexual tension is nonexistent and now I’m just a big pool of disappointment. Regg raises an eyebrow at me, giving me that ‘you alright’ look.
“They should have it all sorted out this week. I’ll meet you at the truck.” He shoots me a wink and disappears through the swinging door. The past few weeks, I’ve been keeping my distance from him. But even if I hadn’t I wouldn’t have been able to see him a lot. I’d heard bits and pieces of conversation about Regg having to replace all the computer systems in the houses. That’s why he’s been so tired and absent.
Even still, I’m a little pissed that those damn chicken houses are getting in the way of him making good on his promise to kiss me. I just need to suck it up, and deal with the fact that tonight I will go to sleep without him.