Wanted: An Outlaw Anthology

by Lane Hart

  Deep breaths, Michelle.

  “You, um… look pretty busy, Rome.” Ugh, idiot. Of course he’s busy.

  He returned with a harsh grunt but still no verbal response. Damnit.

  What was I doing wrong? Tell him you’re sorry, stupid.

  “Err, Rome, I wanted to apologize for what I said the other day, you know… about your car.” I took a seat on the edge of the nearby armchair, careful not to disturb his paperwork. He still hadn’t acknowledged my presence, but at least he wasn’t cursing at me. Thank goodness for small favors, I suppose. I waited a moment to gather my thoughts before I said something stupid to offend him again and observed the exceptionally striking man bustling around before me. He really was all of that and a bag of chips. It was clear to see why the women would fall all over themselves for one night with this prime real estate. Thick, strong arms, muscled thighs that I made out through his jeans, and a set of eyelashes that any woman would kill to have. Judging from all the bumping and grinding I heard every night, he certainly knew his way around a vagina. I wondered if he had any family here in Remington; perhaps that was the reason he came.

  “Take a fucking picture, woman, it’ll last longer,” he admonished. “You done with your bullshit apologizes now, or should I stop what I’m doing to entertain some more of your crap?”

  Ouch. That hurt.

  “No, no, of course not. I just thought we could… never mind.” I stood up to leave him to his work, but he stopped me before I got away.

  “What do you need, baby girl?” He exhaled a harsh breath and gave me his undivided attention. Now that I had it, I had no idea what to do with it. Did I just jump right in and demand that he stop fucking random women, so I could get some peace and quiet? Or did I ease my way into it by sharing a little something about myself first, test the waters?

  “Tick-tock, babe. Ain’t got all fucking day for this shit,” Rome growled.

  “I um… we should… do you think you could…”

  There was something in his eyes that said I was fighting a losing battle, that I was screwed if I continued with this insane idea of mine. Left with no other option, I did what was in my best interest given the situation. I jumped up, ran to my room, and locked myself inside.

  Mission accomplished, Michelle.

  Way to take the bull by the horns.

  Dread

  Never in my life had I been as over-fucking-whelmed with work as I was today. Fox must have put out an all-points bulletin to every hood rat, club slut, and biker gang east of the Mason Dixon line announcing he had a new artist. I know he said he ran the best shop around, but this was beyond anything I’d ever seen before. Somehow, my sketches became the talk of the town, and everyone and their mother wanted one. I had requests for everything under the sun, from cock shots to memorials of dead grandmothers lying in their coffins just before burial. Those I could deal with. They were easy. What had me beating my head against the wall was a request from one dude who wanted something more abstract, original, but he didn’t know what. He offered me a grand like it was nothing, as long as he approved the final work. That type of bread sounded like money in the bank, and I had every intention on collecting. I was right in the middle of going over my sketches when my sexy little housemate made an appearance and fucked it all to hell.

  I tried to ignore her ass. When that didn’t work, I resorted to acting like a cunt to the little red-headed bundle of nerves. What the fuck did I care about her shock and shimmy ‘cause she didn’t notice I was home? Bitch shoulda’ opened her eyes instead of bouncing in there unawares like she owned the fuckin’ place. Hearing her dance around that apology, shuckin’ and jivin’, as if it was the worst thing in the world she ever had to do, pissed me off more than a little bit.

  I was hip to her game.

  No bitch was that innocent.

  I’d had a lot of time to think about my life in prison. Between keeping my asshole intact, pumping iron, and counting down the days until I was released, I’d considered the chain of events that had led me there. They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, yet even now, I had a hard time regretting what I did and why I did it. Beating a guy half to death with a baseball bat? Crippling him so he’d never walk again? Naw, I probably wouldn’t have changed a thing. Might’ve done it sooner had I known it was all just one big pile of messy dog shit. The truth was I got played, played by one of the best, led by my cock with my eyes wide shut from the time I had my first piece of willing cunt. My housemate wanted forgiveness? I had none. She needed compassion? That shit was a fucking fairytale told by drunks and suckers in my world. She invited me to see and hear her babbling bullshit, yet and still, I refused to open my eyes and ears.

  Blindsided once.

  Loved hard and felt it back in return.

  Never again.

  I threw my shit in a bag and made my way over to Masonry Ink. I needed to drop off a few things and check in with Fox, let him know I’d been busy with the artwork and not just missing in action. Early evening, and the place was bustling with activity as usual. I was greeted with hard slaps to the back, Hold up a minutes, and Dude, I need to holla at you’s’ from the time I hit the door until I made it to my cubicle near the back of the shop. The artists concentrated on their clients between moments of jaw jacking about ass kicking, bitch fucking, and drinking booze till they passed the hell out. In the week since I’d been hired, Fox had introduced me to most of them, but that was pretty much the extent of our interaction. They kept their distance, and I kept mine, better for all that way. No skin off my ball sack. I’d doubt they planned to invite me to any company picnics anyway.

  “You know…” said a pleasant-sounding female voice. “If you take that sour look off your face like you’ve been sucking on a lemon-flavored dick, they might see fit to let you join in the reindeer games, Rudolph.”

  The sassy chick who served the drinks approached carrying her empty tray. She wasn’t barking out orders like she did the previous time she’d spoken to me, for which I was grateful. I had just about enough of beautiful women and their varying mood swings to last me through the next millennium. She wore her customary skin-tight jeans with a too small belly shirt that showcased a diamond piercing on her navel. She obviously knew how to work her assets, just like most women, but I wasn’t looking to be anybody’s friend, especially not hers.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not hurtin’ for company, baby girl.” I used my go-to term for women so I didn’t have to remember their names. We might have worked together, but that meant fuck all. She was still a woman, and women were the enemy.

  “Noooo,” she drawled. ”You definitely are not.”

  She peeked over her shoulder at one of the female clients giving me the eye while she waited for service. She was cute in an “I suck dick for a living sort of way.” Good. Saved me the time it took going out to the bar to pick up my strange for the night. That one was ready, set, and go for a nice hard ride for the next few hours once I was ready to leave. Yeah, my night just took a turn for the better.

  “Don’t you worry about it, woman.”

  I turned away, but she wasn’t through. She hitched her bony hip against my workstation and pierced me with her bright blue eyes.

  “Mace is a good guy. He cares about people, and people care about him,” she boasted with a hint of warning. “He gave me a chance when no one else would even piss on me if my ass was on fire. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

  Classic.

  A woman who wanted to give me advice.

  “Golden showers aren’t usually my thing, but for you, baby girl?” I licked my lips and invaded her space. “I’d definitely make an exception if it meant a taste of your sweet pussy.”

  “Fine. Be a dick. But don’t say I didn’t try and pull your coattails, Dread,” she volleyed.

  “You wanna pull on something?” I leaned in her face. “Meet me out back and pull on my cock if you’re looking to be helpful. Just saying, I like it hard. Got no use for the rest of t
hat bullshit you’re spewing.”

  She shoved me hard against the chest and moved away from my cubicle. Her eyes were glassy against her pale skin yet sparked with fire as she challenged me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, a warning sign, something I developed during my time in the joint. Saved my ass more times than I could count, especially during yard time. Someone nearby was plotting my death; the silence of hatred was louder than a steel drum to those who recognized it. I’d crossed a line with this woman, but regret was like eating a large bowl of shit. The trick was to get past that first bite; after that, it all tasted the same, and before you knew it, the dish was empty.

  “Suit yourself, Lone Ranger,” she spat. “Remember this… Even he had Tonto.”

  She grabbed her tray and walked to the other side of the shop with her shoulders thrown back and her head held high. I was half expecting her to hit me across the head with it.

  Angelica.

  A name I would never allow to slide past my lips.

  Just like all the rest.

  “Don’t fuck with her, Dread,” a voice I recognized rumbled.” She’s not for you.”

  “Didn’t mean to come between you and your side piece, Fox.” I smirked. “Plenty of pussy to be had around here without stepping on your toes.”

  “My side piece?” he whispered with a hint of menace. “Hear me and understand. I won’t be saying it twice. She’s my friend… period. That’s a term I don’t throw around lightly, and if I have to remind you of that fact again, it’ll come after I separate your dick from between your legs.” His chest broadened to twice its size before Fox stepped closer to where I was standing and growled.

  “Angelica is under my protection.” He speared me with a look. “But I’m not the only one you have to worry about, kid.”

  He flicked his chin toward the rest of the artists, and I noticed they were all mean mugging me with a death glare. One in particular, a huge motherfucker with black gauges in his ear, had to be restrained by three of the other men. His nose was flaring, and he was noticeably panting as if he couldn’t catch his breath. Ain’t that nice.

  “Let me guess,” I mocked. “Lurch over there’s been fucking baby girl and don’t like the new competition for his spot in line? I get that. Really, I do. Wouldn’t like me either knowing the size of my meat and the dirty fucking I had in mind for that little gash.” Fox shook his head and took in a deep cleansing breath.

  “Go home, Dread,” he ordered. “Not a good time for you to be here.”

  More fucking threats and commands. Fucking perfect.

  “And what if I say no?” I gave the side eye to the other guys and smirked. “What then?”

  “You. Do. Not. Want to do that,” Fox stated slowly, deliberate, as if I were dumb.

  “Yeah? What if I do, MACE?” It was my turn to flex.

  They thought they could intimidate me? Make me look like a freshly shaved pussy just waiting to get fucked? They could all kiss my convict ass if they thought I’d back down and quiver like a new bitch. I wasn’t new to this. I was true to this, and I’d kick all their asses if they fucked with me.

  “You’re not too swift, sparky,” Fox barked. “I said get gone, Dread. It’s not a fucking request. Don’t make me wrong about you.”

  Fuck this shit.

  I grabbed my sketches and took off toward the door, stopping just short of Ms. Fuck Me Eyes still waiting in the lobby. Didn’t take her ass long to walk out in front of me toward my car and wait for me to join her there. I gave the place one last once-over and froze in my tracks when I saw the barmaid mouth I’m sorry through a sad half smile. Typical bitch response to fucking up my life by batting her eyelashes and crying wolf. She had all those tattooed motherfuckers by the balls, every last one of them. I wondered how many she had had to fuck to get them to take her back like a bunch of ignorant fools. If the money weren’t so good, I’d blow this joint with a big fat fuck off to all involved. I couldn’t go out like that, running and hiding ‘cause of a woman. Or worse yet, two women. That déjà vu bullshit was enough to have me flooring my ride’s gas pedal, anxious to get home to work out my frustrations on what’s her name sitting beside me.

  “So, handsome,” she piped up. “Where’re we going?”

  “Shouldn’t you have asked that before you jumped in the car, baby girl?” Stupid bitch.

  “I guess.” She giggled. “I’m Mimi, by the way. What’s your name?”

  “Dread,” I answered, driving faster.

  “That’s a silly name. Why do they call you that?”

  “You’re gonna find out soon enough.” I shot her a sinister smile. “Buckle up.”

  Michelle

  The florescent green numbers lit up my darkened room and mocked me for the umpteenth time tonight to either shit or get off the pot. The display on my cell phone reminded me that it was four in the morning and I was the only witness to a potential homicide happening right across the hall. I’d dialed nine twice already before deciding to hang up and give it a few more minutes. An hour later, I’d moved on to nine-one before my sanity returned and I thought better of that hysterical approach and abandoned that business altogether. In all honesty, what could I have really said to the poor operator once I got her on the phone? “My housemate decided to bring home a screamer, and I think he’s killing her with his cock. Imagine Jamie Lee Curtis in the movie Halloween. Can you picture it? Good. Now, mix in Linda Lovelace starring in Deep Throat with the volume turned all the way up to ten, and that will give you some idea of what I’m dealing with.”

  Yeah, that would’ve gone over like a lead balloon.

  I had to do something, and at the risk of sounding ambiguous, one wrong move, and I was fucked. Pun intended. Hank had said during group that he’d never known me to act so animated during my time attending the sessions, and he was one hundred percent right about that. Usually, I preferred to hide in the shadows, unnoticed and overlooked. I found it safer there after my ordeal. Something about Rome brought out the worst in me, and in the week since he’d been here, I’d contemplated his demise more than once. Both times I’d been privy to his company, he’d been an absolute dick to me, but I chose to let it go. Well, not this time, bucko. He was intimidating, alright, but this was beyond even my normal level of civility.

  This was the final straw that broke the camel’s back.

  Jamie Lee Lovelace’s unrestrained shout of “Fuck my tits” was the go-ahead to make my move. I jumped from my bed and grabbed the nearest thing I could find as a weapon. In this case, it happened to be my old lava lamp that I’d won at a carnival years before that I never saw fit to throw away. It was heavy and balanced securely in one hand, just in case I was forced to swing it at someone’s head. Rage like I’d hadn’t felt in a long time hit me square in the gut as I stood outside Rome’s door and banged with everything I had, fortifying my resolve for when he finally opened it. The minute the door whipped ajar, I muscled past him and went straight for my target. The screamer. I shook the lava lamp within inches of her face, ignoring the fact that she was completely naked and tied to the slats in the headboard. That part was easy enough. The dried-up, caked-on semen around the corners of her mouth? Not so much. Eww.

  “Get… out,” I threatened, “Before I bash your head in and pickle your brains for kimchi.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” she scoffed. “Wait your turn, bitch. I was here first.”

  Gosh, this chick is dense.

  Could she be any more disgusting?

  “I’m… the un-silent majority, torpedo tits! Now get going.”

  “You gonna let her talk to me like that, Dread?” she whined. Offended by my request.

  The two of them must’ve been using some sort of kinky sex names like daddy or master. Why else would she be calling him something so stupid and completely off base? No matter, this was between me and the scream queen. I’d forgotten he was even in the room. I loosened the ropes with my free hand and took one large step away before she acci
dentally splashed me with her slut juice and scarred me for life. She reached for her discarded clothing, but that was taking too long for my taste, so I decided to throw some extra crazy into the game.

  “Kill her,” I chanted loudly in my best demonic voice, eyes rolled back in my head.

  “Gluck. Gluck. Gluck. Gluck” It was the only choking sound I could think of in that moment.

  “Kill her. Kill her. Kill her.” I said it over and over while I shook the lava lamp above my head, mimicking a deranged psychopath. I’d never seen someone move so fast in my life as she tried to escape unscathed. Butt naked and scared shitless, the woman ran from the room without bothering to look back. Thank God she was gone, and I could finally get some sleep without all her ridiculous hollering. Who knew I had it in me to be such a badass when I was deprived of my beauty rest? Hank would probably call it delayed psychosis or some other equally clinical term. I called it victory, and it tasted good.

  Right up until it was time for me to leave.

  My backwards motion was halted immediately by a strange growling sound that intensified in timbre the longer I stood in place. I felt a wave of heat that started at the heels of my bare feet and traveled upward to the top of my head. I was afraid to turn around lest I’d be engulfed in flames and burned to ash in a heap on the carpet. I knew what awaited me the moment I made a break for the door, and the thought of it made my blood run cold. Slowly, without raising my head, I willed my shaking limbs to rotate far enough for me to see the exit without having to face its rightful occupant. The lava lamp unceremoniously dropped from my hand and hit the floor with a loud thud.