HOT as F*CK

by Scott Hildreth

  He grinned, nodded his head, and glanced down at the beer can under my bike. “Remember what I said. Move that fucker out first.”

  I looked at the stain on the concrete, the half-full can of gas, and realized had he said nothing, I would have hopped on the bike and started it.

  “Appreciate it,” I said with a nod.

  “Lead the way?” he asked as he walked away.

  I couldn’t believe my ears.

  I pushed the bike forward, nodded my head, grinned from ear to ear, and responded.

  “Follow me.”

  Chapter Two Hundred Thirty

  SIENNA

  I opened the door to the car, got out, and walked up the driveway. I felt out of place without Vince, but I didn’t feel that I was doing anything wrong, it just seemed odd. As I stepped onto the porch, the front door opened.

  She stepped onto the porch, wiped her hands on her pants, and opened her arms.

  “Come here, Honey,” she said. “Come give me a hug.”

  I rushed to her and wrapped my arms around her. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything, just let me hold you,” she said.

  After a long moment of standing there in her embrace, she released me, took a step back, and studied me. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  I grinned and wiped the tears from my eyes. “You know, I never used to cry.”

  “Neither did I,” she said. “But I’ve learned those things change over time.”

  I nodded my head and tried to force another smile, but ended up beginning to cry again. Seeing her was just too much. I should have just stayed home.

  “So what happened?” she asked as she turned toward the door.

  I wiped my hands on my shorts, and shook my head. “I probably shouldn’t come in, he might…”

  She paused in the doorway and turned around. “He might what?”

  I shrugged. “Come over.”

  “Honey, he hasn’t been here since the night you missed dinner. I haven’t spoken to him. This is what he does, he shuts down. Especially when he’s embarrassed or hurt,” she said.

  I was shocked. From what Vince had said, he came to his mother’s house every Sunday for dinner. It had been three months since we were apart, and to think I played a part in him severing his relationship and routines with his mother was difficult to accept.

  “Come on,” she said as she walked into the living room.

  With some reluctance, I followed her inside. Feeling nervous and slightly guilty, I sat down on the couch and crossed my legs. She sat down beside me a few feet away, straightened the wrinkles from her pants, and turned toward me. As I stared down at my sneakers, she cleared her throat and began to speak.

  “So, that night, what happened?” she asked.

  “I reviewed a few books, drank too much wine, and fell asleep until the next morning. When I woke up, I thought it was Sunday night, but after I looked at my phone, I found out it wasn’t, it was Monday,” I said, turning to face her as I finished speaking.

  “That’s it? That is what happened?” she asked.

  I nodded my head and shifted my eyes to the floor. “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “I knew it was something, but I didn’t know what. He left that night to go looking for you, and he called me later and said it was over between you two. I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t have it. He never went into detail, and that night was the last I saw of him. He needs his hind end kicked,” she said.

  I shifted my eyes toward her and narrowed my gaze. “I can’t believe he hasn’t been back,” I said.

  “I can. It’s Stephen,” she said. “The most stubborn human being on God’s little green earth.”

  “I just wanted to see you. I miss you,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t you dare apologize,” she said. “Would you like some tea?”

  I glanced at my watch as if I had something else to do.

  “No, I really need to go,” I said as I stood.

  “So soon?” she asked.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I uhhm. I have to get home, I have some things I need to get done.”

  “I understand. Come back any time,” she said.

  I tried my best to smile, but only managed a crooked grin.

  “I will,” I said.

  But I knew I wouldn’t.

  Not without Vince.

  Chapter Two Hundred Thirty-One

  VINCE

  I’d been running with Jackson on an almost daily basis, and riding with Axton, Otis, Toad, and Biscuit more than I ever had since joining the club. Jackson was what I expected my childhood friend would have been had he not died at such an early age. Stubborn, opinionated, and someone who immediately made me feel as if he would always have my back, regardless.

  “So you’re telling me you loved this woman? Truly loved her?” he asked.

  I took a drink of my beer and nodded my head. “Yep.”

  “Bullshit,” he said.

  I shook my head. “Sure isn’t.”

  “You still love her?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Nope. Can’t do it. She fucked me over.”

  After hearing the inspirational story of Jackson and Emily, and how she waited for him for ten years without hearing a word from him, it lifted my spirits enough to tell him about Sienna. He questioned my love, however, because of my ability to walk away after she didn’t show up for dinner. It was without a doubt something he would have never done, and as much as he was harassing me about it, I couldn’t quite figure out what his angle was. All I knew was that the more we talked about it, the guiltier I felt for feeling the way I felt and doing what I had done. Having him give me advice was more like getting it from my father, which made it almost impossible to dispute.

  “Have my doubts,” he said sarcastically.

  “Doubt me all you want, I know how I feel,” I said.

  “Jesus jumped up Christ,” Axton hollered.

  “What?” Jackson said over his shoulder.

  “Have a fucking look at this, would ya?” he said as he held his cell phone at arm’s length. “Jaye Campbell’s daughter works with this chick. Girl says she wants to suck a biker’s cock and ride on his bike. Wants some of the fellas to go to her tattoo shop and see if there’s any she likes. It’s the place where that kid I was telling you about gave me the tattoo without an appointment.”

  “Crazy bitch,” Jackson said with a laugh. “That’ll start a fight for sure.”

  “No bullshit. Girl says she wants to meet a few of the fellas.” Axton paused, cleared his throat, and gazed down at his phone. “Take five or six with ya and run over there, would ya?”

  “Sure thing, boss,” Jackson said as he turned to face me. “And you’re going to be one of ‘em.”

  “Don’t have any business going,” I said.

  “You’re going for me to prove a point,” he said.

  “What’s the point?” I asked.

  “Just do this,” he said. “Come with me and act interested. We’ll have a talk after we get out of there. Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to fuck her.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t even if you did,” I said.

  “You’re coming whether you like it or not,” he said.

  After a few minutes, six of us were all saddled up, and headed across town to a tattoo parlor. After passing it, we cut a u-turn in the street, and parked out front at the curb. I got off the bike, turned to face the shop, and stared at the neon sign.

  Blurred Lines.

  “Cool name for a shop,” I said.

  Jackson nodded his head. “I’m gonna get a quote while we’re in here. Come on.”

  We all followed him inside, and immediately after going in, the owner noticed Jackson from his childhood. Oddly enough, they grew up together, and hadn’t seen each other for almost twenty years. It seemed Jackson’s presence back in the city was something meant to be, because not only was he helping me deal with many issues and problems, he was clearly
making this guy’s day.

  The girl from the picture on Axton’s cell phone walked up to the counter where Jackson was standing and raised her hands in the air.

  “Listen up,” she hollered. “I don’t ever fuck with anyone but bikers, and I’ll only fuck with a biker if he’s got a big dick. I’ve got a foul mouth, a shitty attitude, and an insatiable desire. I’m no whore, and I won’t be treated like one. If you’re looking to hit it and quit it, you can forget it. I’m not your girl. If you want an Ol’ Lady who’ll out drink ya, out fuck ya, and probably out cuss ya, I’m your girl.”

  I stood and stared, half shocked she was so brash. It seemed almost out of character. If I was the type of man to be attracted to someone based on looks alone, she would definitely work for me. She was drop dead gorgeous, had a fabulous body, but it seemed odd hearing her say what she was saying, because she was so damned beautiful.

  “How many’s that leave?” she asked.

  “Vince?” Jackson said.

  I reluctantly stepped to the front and stood with my arms crossed in front of my chest.

  “What’s your road name?” the girl asked.

  I pointed to my patch. “Vince.”

  She started laughing. “That’s your road name?”

  Why you little bitch.

  “Yep. Name’s Stephen. They call me Vince,” I said.

  “You qualified?” she asked.

  It was all I could do to keep from smiling. As my mouth curled into a smirk, I responded. “Look, I came up here after Slice showed us your pic at the bar. Thought you were a cute little fucker. Seem a little crazy for my taste now that I’m here.”

  She stood and stared, and after a moment, her face washed over with concern. I hated to make her feel bad or that I felt like she was unattractive or something, so I tried my best to make her feel better. “I ain’t lookin’ to add a bunch of drama in my fucking life. Shit, I just got rid of an Ol’ Lady for bein’ a drama queen. Well, that and a whore. Nice to meet ya, though.”

  She placed her hands on her waist, cocked her hips to the side, and glared. “I’m not a whore, and I’m not crazy. I’m just some chick that loves bikes, appreciates the freedom of riding, and appreciates one-percenters for being who they are. I’m a lot of fucking fun, really.”

  It was apparent she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “What’s a one percenter mean to you? Who am I?” I asked.

  “Well, being an outlaw. Fuck the man, fuck society. Riding isn’t a fucking hobby, and it’s not really a way of life, it is life. You see that mountain bike outside?” she asked.

  I tilted my head toward the door. “Chained up by the door?”

  She nodded her head. “I rode that motherfucker six miles here instead of taking a ride in a cage.”

  I nodded my head. “Is that so,” I asked.

  She cocked an eyebrow and stared. “So…”

  “We’ll go for a ride or something,” I said. “I’ll be back, don’t worry.”

  She nodded her head.

  “How long you gonna be?” I asked Jackson.

  “Gimme ten,” he said.

  “Come on, fellas,” I said as I turned toward the door.

  We walked outside, stood beside the entrance, and waited. As I leaned against the wall and joked with the fellas about the girl with the purple hair, Jackson walked out.

  “Give us a minute, would ya?” he asked the other four men.

  They nodded their heads and each got on their bikes.

  “So, you think she was pretty?” he asked.

  I nodded my head.

  “Why didn’t you take her for a ride?” he asked.

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest, sighed, and shook my head. It seemed foolish to even discuss.

  “I’m not like that,” I said.

  He nodded his head. “Only been with two women, right?”

  “Yep,” I responded.

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Remind me of me, you fucking weird prick.”

  “So, answer me this. After seeing this girl, don’t you dare try and tell me a lie, either. What are you…no who are you thinking of?” he asked.

  I really didn’t have to give it much thought. “Sienna.”

  “And she’s the girl who you say fucked you over?” he asked.

  I nodded my head.

  “And you don’t love her anymore? You feel nothing?” he asked.

  I uncrossed my arms, pressed my hands into my hips and glared at him. “Why in the fuck are you so gung fucking ho to get into my love life?”

  “Call me a hopeless fucking romantic or whatever, I don’t give a fuck. I just know this. After going through what I went through and seeing all the shit I’ve seen, only to find out that my Ol’ Lady waited ten fucking years without me even speaking to her? Well, it kind of makes a motherfucker humble. If you don’t love this girl, well, you don’t love her. But if you’re being a stubborn prick, and you really do love her, but won’t admit it, I want to try and break you,” he said.

  “Well, I can’t be broken,” I said as I reached for my pack of cigarettes.

  “We’ll see about that,” he said.

  I nodded my head and lit my cigarette.

  “I suppose we will,” I said.

  Chapter Two Hundred Thirty-Two

  SIENNA

  I had never been much for having girlfriends. Women seemed too competitive, and much too quick to judge, argue, fight, and lay blame. As a result, during high school most of my friends were male, and eventually most of my male friends ended up being my boyfriend, although some only lasted a few weeks.

  I attributed some of my reluctance to be friends with girls to my relationship with my father, and a desire to fill a void in my life I felt my father left when he went to prison. Living with my aunt seemed weird at the time, and having my father gone was difficult to say the least. Having a male in my life minimized conflict, filled a void, and more often than not, provided me with someone to have sex with.

  My patterns of behavior as a high school girl continued into my adult life, and over time, became second nature. As an adult, I ended up with no female friends to speak of, and really never wanted any. The few men who came and went out of my life provided companionship, and my friends on Facebook and Goodreads who followed my reviews provided a constant flow of communication and often gave advice.

  But now I felt I needed more.

  I wanted my father, and I needed a friend.

  I sat at my parent’s gravesite with a fresh arrangement of flowers and swept the dust from the base of the gravestone. After cleaning what little dust had settled into the etching of the headstones, I squatted down and placed the flowers on the stone base.

  “You know I love you, but I sure hate coming here to see you,” I said.

  “Nothing’s changed, we’re still apart. I hate it, but I can’t change it. I went to see his mother, and that was enlightening, but a disaster for me. You know I will never do anything to try and replace mom, but I really like her, Dad. She’s so cool. She’s like what I wish girlfriends were like, but she’s a mom. Heck, I don’t know, maybe that’s what moms are like.”

  I leaned forward and smelled the flowers. As I moved back to my squatting position, I continued.

  “But with her it’s hard. She’s so nice, and she makes me feel, I don’t know, kind of like you did. She’s just really fun. And she doesn’t take any shit from Vince, either. But he’s shut her out, and hasn’t been there since. And just so you know, I still haven’t had a drink of wine since that day. Maybe one day I will again, but I don’t really know. So there’s that. Uhhm, let’s see,” I paused and contemplated what else I should say before I said my departing remarks.

  “I guess I just hope one day we can work things out, but I’m beginning to have my doubts. I think maybe it’ll take a miracle or an angel. Yeah, an angel is probably a good idea, so if you know one who isn’t busy, you can send one my way, you know, being as you’re up there with all of ‘em.”
>
  “I wish you could meet him, I really do. And you know what’s funny? I was there for a while wondering if we got married, who’d give me away. So yeah. Not wondering about that so much anymore.”

  I stood, stepped to the left, and squatted.

  “I love you, too, Mother. I’ll keep you posted on the progress, but I imagine dad will fill you in. Same goes to you, if you know an angel, send one, I could sure use one. I’ll be back to see you before you know it, and maybe one day I’ll have some good news.”

  I stood, blew a kiss in the direction of the gravestones, and turned toward the car.

  If you’re still listening, I wasn’t kidding about the angel.

  Chapter Two Hundred Thirty-Three

  VINCE

  As I sat in my driveway mentally preparing my morning, I heard the unmistakable sound of Jackson’s bike coming up the block. The cams he added to the engine gave it a very distinct sound, but the way he rode it was what made the sound of it being ridden stand out as different.

  He rode it like he stole it.

  Within a matter of seconds, he was sitting in my driveway beside me.

  “What’s shaking?” he asked.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Trying to decide what to do. Got to meet a guy at eleven, but that’s not for three hours.”

  He hopped off his bike and straightened the bottom of his cut. After going through a ritual of popping his neck, back, and shoulders, he stood and glared at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Can’t be broken, huh?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “I’m going to ask you some shit, and I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me, and with yourself,” he said.

  “Always honest,” I said.

  “We’ll see,” he said with a nod.

  “You need to just give up,” I said as I got off my bike and lit a cigarette.

  “Yeah,” he said with a laugh as he pointed to my cigarette. “Have you a smoke.”