HOT as F*CK

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HOT as F*CK Page 185

by Scott Hildreth


  “Fuck, fellas this is tougher than I thought,” Axton said as he glanced down at the floor.

  “Well, there’s no better way for me to…to get through this…but to…but to just fucking say it,” he said as he glanced up from the floor.

  As I finally found Otis in the crowd, I shrugged my shoulders and slowly raised my hands in the air. Otis lowered his chin and winked.

  Axton crossed his arms, and scanned the crowd. After inhaling a deep breath, exhaling, and glancing in my direction, he began speaking again. “For the first time in the history of the Sinners, a man has made a commitment to a fellow Sinner, and acted in a manner expressing courage and heroism, risking his life for the safety and the security of his brothers.”

  He reached down, picked up my cut, and held it in his shaking hands.

  “You all need to know this man’s name if you don’t. Cambio Todelli, known by his brother Sinners as Toad, on August 16th, did hereby save the life of one Axton Bishop, otherwise known as Slice - the President of the Wichita chapter of the Selected Sinners - by willfully and knowingly stepping between a gunman and his intended target, risking his life in the process. For this selfless act, I hereby present him with the first presentation of the Selected Sinners patch of Valor. This patch.”

  Axton paused and unfolded the cut.

  “This patch is only awarded to a man for clearly risking his life to save to the life or lives of a fully patched member or members of the club, and must be witnessed by another member of the club. Additionally, it must be voted upon by the president of every chapter. Having met all of this criteria, I now present with tremendous gratitude.”

  He held the cut by the shoulders for all to see.

  “The first patch of Valor to your Sergeant-at-Arms, Toad.”

  A red and gold patch in the shape of an ornate star with a ribbon around it had been sewn on the left upper portion of my cut, where the bullet hole probably was. As I gazed at the cut, and the men began to clap and cheer, I filled with emotion.

  Receiving the patch, the assembly of all the men, the voting by each chapter president, and Axton’s emotional state were more than I was prepared for. Now clearly recalling what happened on that particular day, I began to shake as I reached for the cut. Having the men see me in anything but a stable state of mind was not acceptable. I was their Sergeant at Arms, and I needed to act the part. I straightened my stance, pulled my shoulders back, and held the cut in my hand.

  Axton held his hands in the air, and the room immediately fell silent.

  I swallowed the lump which had formed in my throat.

  “As the Sergeant-at-Arms.” I hesitated and scanned the crowd.

  “I was advised my responsibility was for the safety and security of the club, as well as the protection and defense of all club Members and Prospects. I was uhhm, I was just…”

  “I was just doing my job,” I said.

  “Let me help you with that cut,” Otis said as he took the cut from my hand and slipped it over my shoulders.

  “And that, fellas, is why this man is your Sergeant at Arms,” Axton growled as he nodded his head in my direction.

  “Now I need every one of you to get your asses out into the shop, and give this man some fucking breathing room. I need one minute alone with him in here, and then we’ll be out there,” Axton howled.

  Slowly, all the men walked out of the room and into the shop. As the dull roar of the crowd became muffled by Otis pulling the door closed behind him, Axton turned toward the cabinet and reached inside. As he turned to face me, he opened his clutched hand. A copper colored, but horribly disfigured bullet mounted to a small swivel and attached to a chain was in his palm.

  “I got this from the surgeon in Austin. I know it isn’t much, and I understand if you don’t want it, hell I got mixed emotions about it.” He hesitated and held it from his fingers, allowing the bullet to dangle at the end of the chain.

  “You know I make the cuts myself. I take pride in that. Well.” He cleared his throat and stared down at the necklace.

  He glanced up and narrowed his gaze. “Brother, I didn’t know if you were going to make it or not. I truly didn’t. I got this bullet, and I brought it home, and I made this damned thing myself. I told myself if you didn’t pull out of the coma, I’d wear it for the rest of my life in your honor. Well, you did. So, I guess I’ll give it to you; if you want it that is.”

  Now an utter emotional wreck, I nodded my head and bent at the waist. Without speaking, Axton raised his hands and draped the necklace over my head and onto my neck. I stood, reached for the bullet, pinched it between my finger and thumb, and nodded my head once.

  Axton opened his mouth as if to speak. After a few groans and swallowing heavily, he nodded his head and cleared his throat.

  He shrugged his shoulders and extended his arms wide. As we embraced, we patted each other on the back. The sound of his hand slapping against the leather cut was music to my ears.

  “I love you, Brother,” we both said simultaneously.

  As I released him from my arms, I realized my gratitude not only for him, but for the club, each of the men, for my ability to have lived through the shooting, and for Sydney’s having entered my life in the capacity and at the time she did.

  Still filled with tremendous emotion, I turned and reached for the door. After a short hesitation from the uncertainty of whether or not I was ready to face the club, Axton spoke.

  “Hold up a minute, Brother, I think I’ve got something in my eye,” Axton said.

  I faced the door and waited. After a short reflection, I began to fill with gratitude, and gave silent thanks for everything I was fortunate enough to have in my life.

  “Alright, let’s get out there,” Axton sighed.

  As we stepped out into the shop, I realized for whatever reason, my life, my outlook, and my perception of all things around me had truly changed. I struggled whether or not to attribute the changes, as a whole, to having Sydney in my life, or being shot. I raised my hand to the pendant and pinched it in my fingers.

  And quickly all doubt faded.

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  SYDNEY

  Sitting on the couch in Cambio’s house was relaxing in a guilty kind of way. Regardless of what our feelings were for each other, our separation by living in separate homes allowed my mind to wander and eventually I would question just what it was we had together. Our frequency of seeing each other helped matters, but it did not eliminate the feelings I had in his absence. There was no doubt in my mind that a woman’s thoughts and a man’s thoughts progressed at totally different speeds when it came to the feelings of necessity to define a relationship’s validity by cohabitating.

  “I don’t know if it will be as good, but I used your recipe,” he said as he handed me the glass of tea.

  I smiled as I reached for the tea. “Really?”

  He nodded his head and grinned. “Yep.”

  “So I was thinking,” he said as he sat down beside me. “I’ve got a few things to do here. I don’t know, maybe a week or so, and then I think we should head up north.”

  “Up north?” I asked as I placed the glass on the coffee table in front of the couch.

  “To my parent’s place. So they can meet you,” he said.

  I did my best to hide my excitement. To be quite honest, I suspected we might eventually go to see his parents, but only after a year or so of seeing each other. I realized he had mentioned it while we were staying at A-Train’s house, but I had no idea he planned on doing it so soon. Nothing confirms a woman’s position in a man’s heart like him introducing her to his parents. Considering Cambio’s current relationship with his parents, it made matters that much more significant.

  “Oh, well, whatever you think is best,” I said.

  Fuck, Sydney, really?

  “Do you not want to meet them?” he asked.

  I shook my head and turned my body on the couch to face him.

  I lowered my hands to m
y lap and tried to appear relaxed. “No, I’d love to meet them. I just don’t want you rushing into anything for me. I want you to take things at your pace, I’m flexible.”

  He started to laugh, coughed, and covered his mouth. As he pulled his clenched hand down from his face, he grinned. “I don’t have a pace. This is all new to me. You know, I think I know what I want to do, but I don’t want you to wig out because I do something you think is inappropriate or something.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and stared. “Wig out?”

  “You know, flip out. I’ve got like zero experience at this shit, Sydney. I’m fucking lost,” he said as he stood.

  “I know what I feel, and I know what I want, but I don’t want to do what I think I want to do, because I don’t know if it’s what I’m supposed to be doing. Does that make sense?”

  “Kind of. I guess if it includes me, and it doesn’t jeopardize our relationship, I’m game for about anything. You aren’t going to do or say anything that I’m going to think is inappropriate. At least I don’t think so. What kinds of things are you talking about? Give me an example,” I said as I reached for my tea.

  He began to pace in front of the couch and scratched his head almost frantically. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to make you think I’m crazy or anything. I just know how I feel. I’ve always said we think some things and feel others, and sometimes when we think, we make mistakes, but when we feel, it’s genuine. I’m talking about feelings.”

  To have him reveal his feelings to me excited me greatly. Most men never revealed what they were feeling to me unless it was in a fit of anger. Having him be apprehensive to share his feelings with me for fear he was moving too fast made me squirm nervously until I had settled against the arm of the couch and into the cushion, feeling almost trapped. As I nestled into place, I looked up and smiled.

  “Okay, give me an example,” I said.

  “Well, I just know how I feel, and you know. I don’t doubt it,” he said as he crossed his arms.

  “Okay. That really doesn’t tell me anything,” I said. “At least not about how you’re feeling.”

  “I just told you,” he said as he shook his head.

  “Okay, how about this. I used to always wonder about things all the time. And I’d ride around in the country with Otis or sometimes alone, and I’d just ride around and wonder. Now, I don’t wonder. Not about how I feel. Not now, at least now when it comes to us. Now, I know, and there’s nothing that’s going to change it. Well, nothing or no one but you.”

  He uncrossed his arms momentarily, let them hang at his sides, and crossed them again.

  Still feeling like he was a typical male who had no real idea of how he felt, or he had a real reluctance to reveal what he felt, I decided to continue to play along until I had received at least a small tidbit of information from him about his true feelings. So far, he had talked in a complete circle, making no sense whatsoever regarding what he felt.

  “Okay, so you’re convinced how it is you’re feeling is how you’re going to continue to feel, unless I make a change. Is that what you’re saying?” I asked.

  He nodded his head. “Yep.”

  I shook my head playfully. “Okay…”

  “What?” he snapped as he lowered his arms.

  “Nothing, sorry. I’m just thinking. So, that’s how you feel?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” he responded.

  I stared down at his boots, narrowed my eyes, and shifted my gaze upward until our eyes met. “That doesn’t really tell me how you feel, though.”

  He crossed his arms again and exhaled. “I just told you and you said it right back to me.”

  Exhausted I decided to try a new angle. “Okay. So now we know how you feel, what is it you’re thinking might make me wig out? What were you afraid would wig me out?”

  He scrunched his brow and looked down at his boots. “I was uhhm. I was thinking, maybe it’d be like. I don’t know, might be a good idea if…”

  He gazed upward with his face still contorted. He looked like he’d just eaten something extremely bitter.

  “If uhhm. I think you should. Well, you should consider maybe moving in. Moving in here. With me. I think you should consider that.”

  Absolutely what I wanted to hear, but nowhere near what I was expecting, I sat, stuffed into the corner of the couch, and stared. I was at a loss for words. Try as I might, I could not speak. I, too, knew what I felt for Cambio, and I knew the feelings were genuine. The way he made me feel when we made love was beyond compare. It was as if we were meant for each other, placed on this earth for no other reason. Living with him would finally give me the feeling of having a family I had never had.

  “See, you’re wigged out,” he huffed.

  “No, no I’m not,” I said as I stood.

  “I was shocked,” I said as I opened my arms.

  He raised his hands and turned his palms upward. “Same fucking difference, Wigged out. Shocked.”

  “Shocked in a good way. It’s exactly what I wanted, but not what I expected,” I explained as I walked his direction.

  “So, when would you want to do this, if we decided to?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. “I mean here pretty quick.”

  Feeling maybe as if I got the cart in front of the horse so to say, I tried to settle myself down slightly and prepare for the rest of the story. As always, my interpretation of what he was saying, and his intent was two totally different things. Now settling back down onto planet earth, I decided to pry for a little more definite answer. I stepped in front of him, pried his arms apart, I raised my hands up to his shoulders.

  “I see. Like how quick?” I said.

  He leaned down, kissed me, and shrugged. He turned toward the window and stared out at the street. After walking away from me, and leaving me standing in the center of the living room like an idiot, he peered out the window and into the sky. He turned from the window and smiled.

  “We probably still have, like I don’t know, three hours of daylight. We could get it done tonight if you want?” he said.

  I licked my lips, swallowed, and squeaked out my response. “Tonight?”

  “If you want, yeah. You don’t have much stuff. I just. I don’t know. When were together, I’m all happy and shit. And when you go home, or I go home, I just sit and look at my watch and try and figure out when I’m going to see you next. Hell, I fucking hate phones, and I’m staring at mine even thinking about calling you and shit. You know, just so we can talk. It’s kind of dumb if you ask me; you being in one place and me being in another. It’d be kind of like me saying I have a bike, and I’ve got the bike here, and the motor over in Otis’ garage. It’s just dumb, you agree?” he asked.

  As strong as I am, I’m still a little girl. I had always told myself I never had a chance to be the little girl I always wanted to be. Now, I felt I was having a chance to be the little girl I never had an opportunity to be. Robbed from my childhood, and never having a place to call home, now I felt like a little girl with the offering for a home to call her own. I stared at Cambio and fought back the tears of the little girl in me, and for a moment attempted to be a woman. Even though I had been in several relationships in the past, I had never been in love. I never even once suspected I was. I was simply filling a void in my life left by my parents, and later my brother. Now, after spending a period of time without anyone, and becoming accustomed to it, having Cambio in my life was something new, something special, something I not only desperately wanted, but something I had spent an entire lifetime without. He was my father, my brother, my mother, and my lover, all wrapped up in one.

  He was now doing what he said I was doing to and for him.

  He was unbreaking me.

  “I agree. It’s just plain stupid living in separate places. Let’s do it tonight,” I said.

  “Thank God. I was afraid you were going to say no,” he said.

  And I was afraid you w
ere never going to ask.

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  TOAD

  Contrary to what I had always believed, being in love didn’t make a man less of a man, or make him soft, if anything, it made him more apt to stand up for what he believed in, all in an effort to preserve his beliefs and protect his understanding of those beliefs for him and the person or persons he loved.

  As I stepped out of Tater’s truck and toward the house, I feared I would spend the rest of my life preserving my beliefs, protecting the ones I loved, and doing what I believed was best not only for me and the ones I loved, but for society. Some things, I guessed, would never change. As Ripp said, a wolf will always be a wolf.

  “Sure you’re up to this,” Otis asked as we walked up the short sidewalk.

  I patted my back pocket and nodded my head. “Just like we discussed.”

  As soon as we stepped onto the porch, I reached for the doorbell. After ringing it twice, I heard footsteps coming toward the door.

  “Something I can do for you?” the man said as he opened the door.

  He was dressed in camouflage pants, a wife beater, and flip-flops.

  “Actually our truck started running out of gas about a quarter mile back,” I said as I pointed over my shoulder. “Damned thing doesn’t have a working gas gauge. We’re just trying to get back to Wichita. Probably a gallon or so might get us to Winfield to a gas station. I can pay for it…”

  “Come on it,” he said as he stepped aside.

  “Nice place you got here. What’s all that fenced in area out back? Turkeys?” Otis asked.

 

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