She gulped another drink of her milkshake. “Happens all the time. Anyway. Then, she thinks about being with him, and how cool it was to lay around and watch Netflix on the couch. And she tries to forget about him, all she can remember is what it was like when they boned. So, she sends him a text and says, what’s up? He’s watching football with his brahs, and he sees the text and says, check this out. Talia sent me a text. His buddies say, brah, you should so go bone her. When the football game is in the fourth quarter, dude sends her a text and says, not much, wanna hang out? And she gets all excited, and they hang out and bone again. The next day, they declare they’re in love.”
I chuckled. “Just like that?”
“Mmhhmm.” She twirled the spoon around in her cup, decided it was empty, and pushed it to the side. “Just like that.”
“You don’t think people see each other and just know?” I asked.
She dropped her spoon in the sink. After tipping the cup upside down and tapping her hand against the bottom a few times, she scrunched her nose and tossed the cup in the sink, too. She looked up. “Like insta-love?”
“Yeah, basically.”
“Nope.” She shook her head slowly. “It’s written in books, but it’s crap. Basically, the same as a unicorn or a vampire. If I read a book, and it’s insta-love? I return it and read something else. If I wanted to read a fairy tale, I would.”
“People don’t just fall in love?”
“No. It happens like I said a minute ago.”
“Every time?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” she said. “Why, how do you think it works?”
I shrugged. I believed in fairy tales. Or, at least I had in the past. “I’m not sure. I think people are attracted to each other, and then they spend time together. They either fall in love, or they don’t. If they do, I think it grows over time. If they don’t, they move on and try it with someone else.”
“Basically, that’s what I said. Mine’s more realistic, though.”
Taking advice on life from Eddie seemed odd, but I liked her concept. “How are you so smart for a seventeen-year-old?”
“I read a lot,” she said. “And, I’ve got a cool dad.”
“Yeah. He’s pretty cool.”
“So are you,” she said. “I gotta go poop.”
I chuckled as she walked away.
As she took care of her business, I had to wipe away a tear. I told myself it was an estrogen overload.
But, it may have been that I was falling in love a little bit with Eddie, too.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Smokey
“I’m not afraid to leave, I’ve done it plenty of times, but I don’t like the thought of leaving on a Saturday night. Especially when she’s going out with Richard.”
Sandy shook her head adamantly. “Don’t worry. I mean it. I’ll wait up, just like we do when you are home. And, I’ll set the alarm, just like you do. She’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”
I didn’t like leaving Eddie, nor did I like leaving Sandy.
“I don’t have to like it,” I said. “And, to be straight with you, I don’t like leaving you, either.”
Her face went flush. “That was sweet.”
“Wasn’t meant to be sweet,” I said. “I’m just telling you how I feel.”
She glared playfully. “Well, it was sweet.”
I wagged my eyebrows.
“Do you have a say?” she asked. “Can you stay home?”
I shook my head. “It’s mandatory. I have no choice.”
“Then go, and have fun. Eddie and I will both be fine.”
I leaned over the edge of the table. “Come here.”
She did the same, and met me in the center of the table.
I kissed her. It seemed to happen a lot more lately, and I was growing to like it much more than I ever would have guessed. Kissing was something that had been missing from my life, and experiencing it was something that seemed to draw me closer to Sandy each day.
So, I decided to kiss her as much as possible.
“I like it when you kiss me,” she said.
“Makes two of us. I like kissing you.”
She wiped her mouth with her fingertips. “Don’t worry about anything. I’ll text you every few hours if you want.”
“How about every hour, on the hour?”
“Okay.”
“I’ve got a few rules that need to be followed,” I said. “I meant to go over them with you before now, but I guess I forgot.”
“What are they?”
“Cops show up for any reason, no matter what they say, don’t let them in the house unless they have a search warrant.”
“How do I know if they have one?”
“You ask to see it.”
“And, if they don’t have one?”
“You tell them to leave.”
“Is there. I mean, is there stuff in here that--”
“It’s the principle. No, there’s nothing illegal in this home. And, I have nothing to hide. But. I’m not letting some shit hat cop come in here and plant any evidence. That’s the last thing I need, is to be doing a dime for something I didn’t do.”
“What’s a dime?”
“Ten year bit.”
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “They’d do that?”
“They do it all the time.”
“Okay, no coming inside without a search warrant. What else?”
I reached in my pocket, pulled out my pistol, and set it on the table. After opening the cylinder, I unloaded it, and showed her that all five shells were on the table.
“Empty. You see where they go?”
She nodded. “Uh huh.”
I handed it to her. “Here.”
“Oh wow,” she said. “It’s heavy.”
“Has to be. It’s a .357 magnum. If it wasn’t, it’d kick so hard it’d break your wrist.”
“What’s a .357 magnum?”
“It’s the shell size. Like a .38 special, only longer.”
“Oh.”
“It’s what they call a double action,” I explained. “All you do is point it, and pull the trigger. There’s no safety, no switches, no nothing. Just point, and pull the trigger.”
“Okay.”
I pointed to the left side of the pistol. “Push the lever on the side there, by your thumb, and tilt the pistol to the left.”
She did as I asked, and the cylinder fell open.
“See that all five holes are empty?”
She looked at the cylinder. “Uh huh.”
“It holds five bullets, that’s all. With all five holes open, it can’t do anything, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Push the cylinder closed.”
She closed the cylinder and looked at me.
“Point it at the refrigerator and pull the trigger.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
I nodded. “It’s unloaded.”
She squinted, and slowly squeezed the trigger. When the pistol dry fired, she jumped.
“It’s that simple,” I said. “Now, it’s got a 2” barrel. You can’t really aim it, so I’m not going to explain all of that to you. If you ever have to use it, you hold it in your hand just like you are, and you point it, just like you’re pointing your finger. If you can point your finger at something, you can point the gun at something. Make sense?”
“Uh huh.”
“Point it at the sink.”
She pointed it at the sink.
“Point it at the trash can.”
She did the same.
I turned up my palms. “It’s that easy.”
“Here are the rules about guns.”
She set the gun aside, and looked at me.
“Never, under any circumstances, point a gun, any gun, at something you aren’t 100% comfortable shooting.”
She swallowed heavily, and then nodded. “Okay.”
“No matter what.”
“Okay.”
“Once you’ve made th
e decision that you’re going to point it at someone, you’ve got one of two situations. The first is this: you need to shoot, and there’s no time for demands. In that case, you do not hesitate, you shoot. Hesitation will cost someone’s life. Shoot first, make up a story to cover your ass later. The second is this: You want someone to do something. If that’s the case, you point the gun, and give your demand. For instance, a man is raping a chick behind a trash dumpster. I’ll pull the gun and say, get off of her and get on the ground. If he complies, great. If not, I’ve got a decision to make. Either way, I’m prepared to shoot, and we know that because why?”
She sat up straight. “Because you pointed it?”
I leaned over and kissed her. “You’re a quick learner.”
“So, that sums it up. Don’t point it unless you are mentally prepared to shoot it, and don’t hesitate if there’s a life at stake.”
“Got it.”
“I’m going to load it now. When I leave, it’ll be loaded. Leave it that way, and only get it out of the dresser drawer if you have to. It’s not an illegal weapon, but it’s not registered to me, either. It’s just easier that way. If the cops ever do a trace on it, it won’t come back to me.”
“Okay. What about you? What if--”
I raised my fists. “I’ve got these.”
She sighed. “I like your hands. And your little tattoo flowers. Don’t hurt them.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Don’t let anything happen to my three babies.”
She looked at me and squinted her eyes. “Three?”
I nodded. “You, Eddie, and little man.”
She grinned. “I won’t.”
My gut told me I could trust her.
So, that’s what I did.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sandy
Dressed in a pair of boxer shorts I found in the dresser, and one of Smokey’s wife beaters, I danced around the house without a bra or panties.
It felt so good to let go for once.
I’d loaded the music app on my phone for Smokey’s Sonos system, and now I could see the names of the songs that played. I wrote down the titles and artists of the ones I liked, and skipped the stupid ones.
After an hour of dancing, I was exhausted.
One chocolate milkshake later, and I was missing Eddie, and even more so, Smokey. Knowing a nap was imminent, I set the alarm for 12:00, and changed clothes into something a little more appropriate, just in case Richard decided to come inside.
After P-Nut’s speech, he hadn’t so much as walked her to the door. I felt bad for not remembering to say that P-Nut was full of shit, but I figured I could tell him some other time.
I sat on the couch. As Band of Skulls, Cold Fame played, I closed my eyes.
I woke up confused.
Still groggy, but fairly certain that I’d heard something, I lifted my head and looked around the house.
Nothing.
I couldn’t decide if it was a dream. I rubbed my eyes and looked around the room, sure I’d heard someone screaming. I stood up, shook my head, and checked the clock.
11:47.
I heard a dull thud. Then, another. And, another.
I looked for my phone, couldn’t find it, and tip-toed toward the Sonos player. After pausing the music, I stood still and listened. My own heartbeat was all I could hear.
Then, the sound of muffled grunts from outside sent chills along my spine.
It sounded like it was right outside the door.
I ran to the bedroom, opened the dresser drawer, got the gun, and rushed to the living room window. After a deep breath, I pulled the blind to the side and peered out into the dark.
I didn’t immediately see anything. I scanned the yard from left to right. Then, I saw everything.
No.
No.
Oh my fucking God.
No.
I ran to the door, yanked it open, and leaped onto the porch.
What I feared was happening was happening.
My stomach heaved. The taste of bile rose in my throat.
I opened my mouth, but no words came. Not so much as a squeak.
Never, under any circumstances, point a gun, any gun, at something you aren’t 100% comfortable shooting.
I raised the pistol, and quickly realized they were way too far away.
I opened my mouth again.
Nothing.
At the end of the driveway, the devil himself was sitting on top of Eddie. His hands were swinging wildly, and he was beating her like he was trying to kill her. What little noise she had been making only a few seconds prior had ceased.
Panic shot through me, all but crippling me.
His fists crashed down against her face, one after the other. Then he yanked on her hand, lifting her torso from the driveway each time he pulled against it.
Seeing it was killing me inside. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t speak, and I was shaking like I was naked in Antarctica.
Motherly instinct took over. Without thought or hesitation, I ran off the porch and burst out across the yard in a dead run. Smokey’s words ran through my mind.
You want someone to do something. If that’s the case, you point the gun, and give your demand.
“Hey motherfucker!” I half screamed, half blubbered. “Get off my daughter!”
He glanced at me, and then yanked against her hand again.
When I reached them I could clearly see that Eddie was not okay. On her back, and either unconscious or dead, she wasn’t moving. The man on top of her seemed to be in another world, and continued pulling against her hand.
Beside her, a cellphone lay on the concrete.
If you can point your finger at something, you can point the gun at something.
I pointed the pistol at his head.
He looked right at me.
Hesitation will cost someone’s life.
Shoot first, make up a story to cover your ass later.
I looked him in the eyes. All the fear escaped me. I squeezed the trigger.
A blinding flash of light and a horrific boom happened at the same time.
Somehow, I was no longer holding the pistol.
I looked around me and realized I couldn’t see very well. The flash had come close to blinding me. Sobbing, I fell to my knees, and crawled toward the outline of the bodies.
My sight slowly returned, and it was clear her attacker was dead. Half of the lower portion of his face was missing.
And, Eddie wasn’t moving.
I shoved the dead man off her, leaned down, and wiped her blood-soaked hair away from her face. “Eddie?”
Her eyes were swollen shut, and her face was a battered mess.
A gurgling sound came from deep inside her throat. “My…ring…”
She’s alive.
Thank God.
I blindly searched for the phone that was beside her, picked it up, and dialed 911.
I wasn’t a doctor, but I knew if an ambulance didn’t come quickly, I’d lose her.
“911 please state the nature of your emergency.”
There was only one way I knew to get an ambulance, and get it quick. But, it would require me to tell a lie.
And, just this once, it was okay to lie.
I cleared my throat. “Uhhm. A police officer has been shot, and he’s wounded. Send an ambulance. He’s dying.”
“Your location?”
I had no idea what my new address was.
I glanced toward the porch light.
10378.
“10378 La Quinta,” I said.
“Ma’am, can you provide a description of the shooter? Is he still on the scene…”
I threw the phone in the driveway, laid down at Eddie’s side, and held her in my arms.
“It’s okay, baby. Help is on the way.”
It had only been a matter of seconds, but I could already hear the approaching sirens.
“Hear that, baby? They’re coming to take you to the doctor. Afte
r you get cleaned up, we’ll have milkshakes.”
“My…ring…” she murmured, her voice almost inaudible.
I sat up and then looked at her swollen hand.
The ring was gone.
I stood, looked around, and saw it glistening between me and the dead piece of shit who tried to rob her.
I picked it up, and tried to slip it on her hand, but her fingers were far too swollen.
“I’ve got it, baby. I’ve got the ring,” I whispered.
The side of my car illuminated from the flashing lights from the approaching police and ambulance.
In an instant, there were police officers everywhere.
There was no way I could let anything happen to her ring. She’d almost lost her life trying to keep it.
I slipped it on my finger, stood, and waved my arms back and forth. “Here! I need you right here!”
Ambulance attendants rushed into the yard at the same time the police officers did.
Everyone was screaming, and asking questions, but no one questioned whether or not Eddie needed help. It was the first thing that happened.
As they loaded her on the stretcher, I leaned over her. “I love you. You’ll be just fine, my baby. I promise.” I kissed her forehead, pulled away, and then pressed my hand to hers. “Girl Power.”
Upon saying those words, tears ran down along each side of my nose.
Then, everything went black.
Chapter Thirty
Smokey
Attending club functions wasn’t my bag of tricks, but when the club needed muscle, I was always willing to show up. More accurately, I wasn’t willing, I insisted on it. I had yet to miss any event that required a patch to intimidate, beat, or threated the life of anyone who the club decided needed it.
Standing around an old warehouse with 200 of So-Cal’s finest 1%ers, I stood amidst the only bunch I cared much for, the Hells Angels.
One of Hells Angels senior members, Bama, and Pee Bee were talking about the day Pee Bee’s father had a heart attack. On that day, Bama had gathered all the Angels at the rally, and led the way on a 150-mile trek to the hospital, providing an escort for the entire trip.
F*CKERS (Biker MC Romance Book 7) Page 73