HOT as F*CK

by Scott Hildreth

  I turned toward Avery and gazed past her as I tried to think of being a part of a bank robbery in the first place.

  Avery nodded and tilted her head to the side playfully. “Club motto.”

  “I see,” I said.

  “So, the cops showed up, the news interviewed Cambio, and the rest is history,” she said.

  “Wow,” I said as I lifted my glass and stared into it.

  Empty.

  Avery turned toward the bar, raised her hand, and waved at the waitress.

  “Went a lot better than the next time a guy pulled a gun on Toad, that’s for sure. Now that was scary,” Avery said as she turned around.

  I widened my eyes and glanced at Sydney. “There was another time?”

  “Guy in Texas,” she said as she took a drink of tea.

  “Shot him in the chest. Collapsed lung, coma, damned near died,” she said flatly.

  What the fuck have I got myself into?

  “Let’s hear it,” I said as I picked up my glass again.

  “Get her another, make it a double,” Avery said as the waitress walked to her side.

  “It was a double,” I said with a laugh.

  Avery raised her eyebrows. “Triple?”

  “Hell, why not,” I said as I turned toward Sydney.

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder and began talking as if it was just another day.

  “Okay, they all rode down to Texas, Biscuit, Cambio, Slice, and Otis. They had a meeting down there. When the meeting ended, a guy walked out of the building who Cambio recognized as one of his former Marine friends he hadn’t seen for years. He’d actually lived his entire life, post war, thinking this guy was dead. After a little reunion in the parking lot of sorts, a car pulled up alongside the group, and the driver pulled out a gun, threatening Cambio’s Marine friend. And, Cambio being Cambio, he jumped in front of the barrel just before the guy pulled the trigger, saving the life of his friend. He took the bullet in the chest. It collapsed his lung and broke his collarbone, but he’s fine now. Well, pretty much anyway.”

  “Oh dear God. When did all this happen?” I asked as the waitress handed me my drink.

  “Uhhm. Let’s see. The bank robbery was about four months or so ago. Give or take. The Texas deal, maybe two months ago,” she said.

  “All of that, in the last four months?” I gasped as I raised my glass to my lips and drank half the drink in one gulp.

  She nodded her head. “Yep.”

  I glanced at Avery.

  She grinned and shrugged her shoulders.

  I turned toward Sydney and stared for a long moment.

  “So the homeless thing, what happened there?” I asked.

  “Oh, right after the robbery Cambio gave me a house to live in. It was one of his rental houses. And he gave me a job at his barbeque restaurant as a waitress, which I love by the way. Then, we got engaged, I moved in to his house, and now we live together,” she responded.

  “Wow,” I said as I drank my remaining vodka cranberry.

  “And you and Axton? How’d that come about if you don’t mind me asking?” I asked.

  “Don’t mind at all. We met at the bar I was working at. I was still in school, a senior. I hit on him, and hit on him, trying to get him to like me, but it didn’t work. We were just hanging out every now and again, but no sex or anything. You know, just me riding on his bike and stuff. One night a few months later, we were at a party at the clubhouse, and some doofus started hitting on me. Axton just lost it. He beat the guy half to death, tossed him in the street, and told me to get on his bike. I got on, and the rest is history,” she blurted.

  I glanced at Sydney, stared blankly for a moment, and turned to face Avery.

  “Beat the guy half to death?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it was pretty bad,” she said.

  “Couple of shootings and a beating in the course of a few months?” I asked as I reached for my glass.

  The two girls turned to face each other and started laughing. As they each turned to face me, they nodded their heads at the same time.

  “Yeah, that’s about it,” Sydney said. “I wouldn’t trade or change Cambio for the world.”

  “Me neither,” Avery said. “Axton’s as good as gold.”

  As I stared at my glass, wishing it was a quintuple, the waitress passed. As she noticed me gazing into the empty glass, she pointed at me and raised her eyebrows. I nodded my head as I raised my glass in the air. She raised her hand and extended two fingers. I shook my head. She raised three. I nodded. She turned toward the bar and walked away.

  “That’s a good waitress,” I said as I turned toward the girls.

  “Kat?” Avery said. “She’s the best.”

  “You know her?” I asked.

  She nodded her head. “She went to school with me and played volleyball. She’s a year younger than me. She graduates this year.”

  I nodded my head.

  “She’s fucking Biscuit,” she chuckled.

  “Big guy with the beard?” I nodded.

  “That’s Biscuit,” she said.

  As the waitress placed the drink on the table, Avery stared down at it and laughed.

  “You’re going to be a mess here pretty quick, Sam. That’s what, eight shots in half an hour?” she asked.

  She was right for the most part, but I was already a little more than half drunk. Generally speaking, my limit was one drink, knowing if I had two, I’d be drunk. Having had a double, and a triple, and now having another triple, it would stand to reason with a matter of minutes I’d need someone to take me home in a shopping cart. I felt an almost necessity to tell some kind of a story to compete with what they had shared, but I had very little to offer. I glanced down at the drink, shifted my gaze to meet Avery’s, and shrugged my shoulders as my mouth curled into a smile.

  “Hell, I walked here. I’ve only got to stumble about two hundred feet to get home. It’s been a long day. Otis and I went to a movie and he fucked me half senseless in the theatre, which was fabulous by the way. Now I’m just unwinding and trying desperately to be social. I normally hate girls because they’re so competitive and catty, but you two are fun,” I said as I reached for my drink.

  “You had sex in the theater? Which one, that ratty one on east Kellogg?” Avery laughed.

  I shook my head. “No, the Warren Theater. The really nice one right up the street here.”

  “You fucked in the Warren?” she gasped.

  “Sure did,” I said as I took a sip of my drink.

  “Holy shit,” Avery gasped.

  “Like fucked? Fucked around, or fucked?” she asked as she leaned into the table.

  I took another short sip of my drink and grinned. “Well, I got down on my knees in front of him while the movie was starting and sucked his cock first. Then I got up and rode him reverse cowgirl until I came all over his cock. It was awesome. Oh, and we got a standing ovation on the way out. No joke, the entire front row stood up and clapped as we left.”

  Avery raised her hand in the air and turned her palm to face me. I raised my hand in the air and slapped it against hers. As she shook her head from side-to-side, Sydney raised her hand. I slapped mine against hers and nodded my head.

  “To the Sinners,” Sydney said as she raised her glass of tea. “Never a dull moment.”

  “To the Sinners,” Avery said as she raised her glass.

  I glanced down at my glass. With blurred vision and an unsteady hand, I picked it up and somehow raised it to the toast. As our glasses clanked together, I burped, sloshed half my drink onto the table, and said my own toast.

  “To the Sinners, and to being stuffed full of so much dick that it hurts to sit down,” I said. “And to getting standing ovations, and cleaning up the quart of cum with Otis’ no-shows.”

  “Otis wears no-shows,” Avery asked.

  “He sure does, and gather ‘round, ladies. I’ve got a few stories to tell you about Otis,” I said as I raised my glass to my lips.


  Yeah, I think we’re going to get along just fine, ladies.

  I clanked my glass onto the table, sat back in my seat, and began to tell the story of the night Otis duct taped me naked to a tree while wearing a kilt.

  Not because I felt a need to be competitive, but because I wanted to make sure they knew I was one of them.

  An equal.

  The Ol’ Lady of a Sinner.

  Chapter Ninety-Seven

  OTIS

  If the life of a Sinner had taught me nothing else, it taught me to always keep my guard up, regardless of the company I was keeping or the events surrounding me. When life seemed too good to be true, it was always time to glance over my shoulders and make sure of who or what was behind me. It wasn’t that I believed life wouldn’t offer me what was good, it was more my belief that the laws of average would always make sure to keep me in check by tossing me a shit sandwich from time to time.

  The thing about a shit sandwich is this.

  As soon as you bite into it, you know one thing for absolute certain.

  You just bit into a shit sandwich.

  “So both of you want to go in there with me?” Jack asked nervously.

  “If you really think we need to,” Toad shrugged.

  “Same as going to talk to the cops in the joint far as I’m concerned. You never go alone to talk to the man. Always go in pairs, that way nobody can start the he said she said shit. I just want witnesses,” Jack said as he peered into the shop.

  “Sure, we’ll go,” I said as I stepped past him. “Come on.”

  We walked to the office door together, and after making sure they were at my side, I knocked on it sharply.

  Axton, obviously recognizing my knock, responded through the closed door. “Otis? Come on in.”

  I pulled the door open slightly and peeked inside. “It’s the three of us, Slice. Toad and Jack are with me, got a minute?”

  “Always, as far as you three fuckers are concerned. Come on in,” he responded as he closed the book in front of him.

  “Come on,” I said as I waved my arm toward the two men.

  I pulled a chair from the table and sat down, and Toad did the same. Jack began to nervously pace back and forth across the floor, staring down at his boots as he walked.

  “You alright, Big Jack?” Axton asked as his eyes followed Jack’s steps.

  “Be fine boss. Just thinking,” he said as he glanced up.

  After walking back and forth a few more times, he stopped, pulled out a chair at the corner of the table, and sat down.

  “Permission to speak candidly,” Jack said.

  Axton glanced at me, shifted his eyes toward Toad, and eventually fixed his eyes on Jack.

  “What the fuck’s going on?” Axton asked as he stood from his seat and crossed his arms.

  Immediately, Jack stood from his seat.

  “Sit down,” Axton snapped, “What the fuck’s going on here?”

  Jack sat down, glanced down at his boots for a moment, and cleared his throat. “Permission to speak freely?”

  “Sure, whatever. Speak freely,” Axton huffed.

  “Think we’ve got a cop in the club, boss?” Jack said as he glanced up.

  What the fuck?

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Axton bellowed.

  Toad immediately stood and turned toward Jack.

  “Sit the fuck down, Toad,” Axton demanded as he uncrossed his arms.

  “There ain’t a cop patched in in this MC, I can guarantee you that much. Now what brought you in here? What happened?” Axton barked.

  Jack stood from his seat. “Sorry, boss. I got to stand. Hear me out, okay?”

  Axton nodded his head. “Fuck it, I guess you can walk. And I’m listening.”

  As Jack paced the floor, he began to speak. “Well, when I was in the joint, we had cops that took us to the hole in the elevator when we got a write up. They had this special key, it looks like one of them round keys for a soda machine, but it’s about half inch longer. Elevator repairmen have ‘em too, but that’s about it. It lets you stick the key in the elevator, turn on an override, and make it go to the roof or the basement or whatever. Now when I was in court the first time, and the second time for that matter, I saw the same thing. The US Marshall and the ATF fellas that took me to court in the beginning, and again the other day, they both had ‘em. They had to put ‘em in the elevator to get down to the basement to their cars.”

  Axton crossed his arms in front of his chest and inhaled a long slow breath as he waited for Jack to continue.

  “There’s only a couple of elevator manufacturers, Dover and Otis. Most of the keys say one of those two names on ‘em. Kind of looks like a Harley key too, now that I think of it,” he said.

  “God damn it, Big Jack, get to the point,” Axton growled.

  Jack stopped pacing, turned to face Axton, and crossed his arms. “That fella they call Gunner, boss. He’s got one of them keys on his key ring. It says Dover on it for sure, I looked at it. And unless he’s repairing elevators on the side, he’s probably a fed or a prison guard.”

  “I fucking knew it. Phony ass piece of lying shit. Motherfucker says he was in the shit, I never trusted his phony ass,” Toad blurted as he stood from his seat.

  “God damn son of a motherfucking bitch,” Axton said as he turned toward the cabinets on the wall.

  “Hell, he’s been here for years, he can’t be a cop. Who vouched him in the club?” Axton asked as he reached for the Members book.

  “Don’t need the book, Slice. I can tell you who vouched him in,” I said.

  “Who?” Axton asked as he turned around.

  Simultaneously, Toad and I responded. “Hollywood.”

  “Fuck!” Axton shouted as he kicked the table with the toe of his boot, almost knocking it over entirely.

  He glared at Toad for a long moment, and then fixed his eyes on me. I sat silently, and attempted to think of why Gunner would need an elevator key. As I drew an absolute blank, Axton kicked the table again.

  “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he screamed as he turned toward the door.

  “Who’s that cock sucker run with?” he asked.

  I shrugged my shoulders. Axton turned to face Toad.

  “Ran with ‘Wood. Well, till ‘Wood committed suicide,” Toad said.

  “Fuck!” Axton yelled as he kicked the table again.

  “You God damned one fucking hundred percent sure he’s got an elevator override key? One fucking hundred, not ninety-nine. You sure?” Axton asked as he turned toward Jack.

  “Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t boss. Hundred percent,” Jack nodded.

  “Fuck!” Axton shouted.

  In an attempt to settle Axton down, I stood from my seat.

  “Let’s talk about this, what are we going to do?” I asked.

  “Torture his ass, get him to admit it, and kill the fucker. Pretty simple shit,” Axton said.

  “I’ll do it,” Toad said as he stood.

  Axton shook his head. “I’ll fucking do it.”

  “Hold up, boss,” Jack said as he raised his hand in the air.

  “You kill this fucker now or you even kill him later, fed’s will be on this club like shit on a shoe. Whoever sent him knows he’s here. He comes up missing or turns up dead, we’re fucked,” Jack explained.

  Axton turned toward Jack and shook his head from side-to-side and said.

  “Well, what the fuck do you suggest?” he growled.

  The thought of a cop being in the group was unthinkable to me. Gunner being the cop was much more believable than anyone else, he seemed to always be around, but in the same respect, he wasn’t around when he needed to be. As I sat and thought about it, he did seem to ask a hell of a lot of questions. He damned sure didn’t look like a typical cop, but after seeing what the ATF agent looked like in court, he damned sure could be an ATF agent.

  Doing life in prison under the RICO act didn’t appeal to me at all.

  “I say we kill the
prick,” I said as I looked up.

  Jack shook his head. “It’ll bring the heat in here so God damned quick, it’ll make your heads spin.”

  “What’s the answer?” Axton asked.

  “Well, he’s gonna be wearing a wire, you can bet on that. So we need to get him where we can talk to him and the wire ain’t any good. Won’t be easy, him being a cop and all, but we’ll have to do it. Anybody got a swimming pool?” Jack asked.

  “A what? A fucking swimming pool?” Axton huffed.

  Jack nodded his head. “Yeah a pool. Make his ass get in the pool. Water will ruin the wire. Only way I know for sure, other than stripping him down, and then you still don’t know.”

  “Fucking things can be in their hair, ears, hell some of the fellas in the joint said they even had ‘em sewn into their clothes. So if you make him strip, and he tosses his clothes in a pile beside him, he can still be listening,” Jack said as he raised his hand to his ear.

  “Biscuit’s got a pool,” I said.

  “Sure does,” Axton agreed.

  “Fuck. Alright. I’ll get with Biscuit. We’ll need to get him over there without making him nervous. How in the absolute fuck are we going to do that?” Axton shrugged.

  “Have Biscuit tell him we’ve got some pussy over there?” Jack said. “But don’t tell him there’s a pool, fed’s hate being around pools. He’ll know what’s up for sure and he’ll call in the troops.”

  “And we won’t say anything out loud. I know that much,” Axton said as he pulled his note pad out and shook it.

  “I’ll write everything down and make him do the same. Son of a fucking bitch, I hope you’re wrong,” Axton said as he tossed his pad on the table.

  “You fellas go out in the shop and act like nothing happened. Is the fucker out there now?” Axton asked.

  I nodded my head.

  Axton swung his leg up and kicked the table hard enough to lift it from the floor three feet. “Fuck!”

  “Biscuit?” he asked.

  “Nope, think he’s fucking the girl from the bar,” I responded.

  “Alright, I’ll call him. Stay out in the shop, and just follow my lead. I’ll be out in a minute,” Axton said.

  As we walked to the door, Axton cleared his throat. “Big Jack?”