by Paula Cox
But Riley doesn’t force his cock out on me or shut me down. Instead, he hoists me up by the underside of my arms before throwing his pants back on. I fall backwards into the bed again, this time sitting up on the edge to see him grab for one of his guns in his back pocket. “Don’t worry, Anna. I know how much you absolutely suck in bed—literally and figuratively. That’s why I have other plans for you.”
“What is it, babe? I can do it. Your wish is my co—”
“Shoot him.” He pushes the gun into my lap, his finger around the trigger. Repeating what he said, he yells again, “Shoot that motherfucker in the leg and I’ll believe that you’re serious when you say that you’re through with him.”
“No, Riley,” I reply, shaking, “I can’t do that. I can’t shoot him. You know me.”
“I thought I knew you, Anna, but then you went and stabbed me sixteen goddamn times! Deep down in that sick little body of yours is a perfect killer just ready to get out.” He laughs to himself, stroking my hand on the metal handle of the small pistol. “Doesn’t that feel good. Doesn’t it feel right? It’s much better than sucking me off to prove my point. All you have to do is point the gun and fire. If you hit him in the right spot, you’ll kill him within minutes. If not, he’ll live and we’ll fuck while he cries out in pain. What do you say… babe?”
I don’t know where this Riley has come from. Parts of our relationship flash back rapidly in my mind. There were moments so normal that I wanted to go crazy. He brought me flowers, made me dinner, picked me up from long work shifts. And then slowly it went downhill from there. I wasn’t Anna to him anymore. I was this creature with a pussy between her legs. I was his object to shove on the back of a bike and show off to his boys. I became this ornament.
I look up at him, completely at a loss. This isn’t part of the backup plans we had covered with Mack’s guys while Zeke was being mended on a makeshift operating table in their meeting room. There was nothing about what to do if Riley was forcing me to shoot him in the leg. I half expect his boys to run in at any moment and take over from here, but as seconds tick by and Riley grows impatient, I know that isn’t going to happen. I alone have to make this decision.
Riley moves behind me, placing a long, slithering hand around my empty stomach. My body quivers at the touch of his chin to my shoulder. He reaches my arm outwards, pointing directly at Mack, who looks away towards to the door. “Come on, Anna. Let that killer out. Make him suffer for all the things he did to you and your mom.”
Before I can stop myself, I tell him, “No, Riley. I can’t do that.”
“Fine. I will.” Without hesitation, I feel my finger being flung towards the trigger. He pushes it down hard until there’s a click and then a reverb so hard it flings me back towards him. In slow motion, I watch as that bullet races towards its mark. There’s a muffled scream of pain as Mack’s body hunches over towards his leg. Muscle and tissue is exposed right below the kneecap where the bullet entered and exited within milliseconds of Riley forcing that trigger down. Blood pulsates out in an unstoppable river.
“Damn,” Riley says as he blows air through his teeth, “I thought we’d hit that artery in his thigh. I guess we’ll just let him bleed out instead. Or should we try it again?” He laughs again, this time so loud he nearly rolls himself backward with the gun still in his hand. I stay put, completely stunned and shaking. Again, this wasn’t in my plan.
“Oh, Anna. Don’t look so glum. After all, if this isn’t a trap and you really want my cock, you should be a bit happier to knock this fucker out. My Knights will be calling you the Killer Queen. And I’m sure some of the other clubs will be grateful to know you’ve taken down the Mountain that’s been messing with their shit for years now. I’ll give you all the credit for that one, but not the next one.”
“The next one?” I ask without looking up at him. “What do you mean?” Mack is still hunched over, holding his tied hands towards the wound. For a second, I think he looks up at me with a wink, but I must be imagining it. I have to be.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll give you a choice this time. You shoot Mack in the other leg or I kill Roxy.”
“What? I can’t do that, Riley! Please don’t make me do that.”
“You had no problem stabbing me. You should have no problem making that guy lose his legs. And if not, if you hesitate more than a minute this time, I’ll have my pal Johnny over here make sure Roxy gets a bullet to that beautiful, brilliant head of hers.”
My mind goes blank as Riley tosses his gun back on the bed in front of me. I know I cannot do what I did last time and think this through or wait for a sign. Roxy’s life depends on me doing the unthinkable and doing it fast. I grab the gun, weighing it in my hand. I try to tune out Riley’s ridiculous laughter, him barreling over with his arm clutched to his side as he waits for the gunshot to go.
That’s when I see it—the flash of hope, the option I didn’t even know about. Mack, still leaning over his lap isn’t just clutching his wound or protecting himself from me. He’s holding on to something in those wrapped hands of his—a gun of his own! He glances up at me, giving me just enough time to spin myself down off the side of the bed before his fires. The guard crashes to the ground besides Roxy’s unconscious body. A small black hole smokes from the side of his profile.
Riley sits straight up, staring directly at Mack and his gun. “Where the fuck did you get that, you little weasel!” He turns towards the open door, screaming, “Knights! KNIGHTS!” But there’s nothing. For whatever reason, his men don’t come to his side like he imagined they would. I stand quickly to my feet, my gun now pointed at my ex-boyfriend.
My arm still outstretched, I run towards Mack, removing the gag from his mouth. “I’m so sorry,” I cry out as I begin working on the ropes with my one free hand. “Please forgive me. I didn’t know what to do and he…” I feel his arm around mine, comforting me enough to stop my rambling.
“We’ve got bigger problems here, Anna.” With a grunt of pain, he hobbles to his feet and takes the gun out of my hand, still pointed at Riley’s forehead. “I think you should step out of the room so we can take care of this trash.”
“What about his guys? What if they’re waiting for me?”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that, asshole. My men are fucking waiting for me just around the corner.”
“Your men!” Mack laughs wildly. “It’s a funny thing when you’re smarter than most other motherfuckers. You’re able to stay two steps ahead of them.” The blood drains from Riley’s face as he begins to understand. Mack doesn’t stop there. “And here’s what you didn’t realize, you dumb bastard: while you were busy stalking Anna, I was at work stealing each and every guy. I paid some of them off. The others are now members of the Dragons. Don’t worry, I left you with a few I knew would stay loyal. This guy was one of them, and my men will take care of the rest later tonight, but it looks like you’re left alone—the one last member of the Knights.”
“Fuck you,” Riley murmurs under his breath, “Just do it. Kill me and get it over with, or are you too much of a pussy to get the job done?”
“Don’t test me. After the shit you put Anna through, I’d be more than happy to slowly skin you to your bones—”
“No!” I suddenly shout, an idea coming to me. “Don’t touch him. I want him alive.”
“What?” Both Riley and Mack respond at the exact same second. This was the last thing they expected me to say.
“I have bigger plans for him. Just bring him back to the tattoo shop. There’s some equipment there, right?”
“Yeah… a few were brought in a day or two ago, but I don’t—”
“Just do it, Mack. We’ll get our revenge.”
CHAPTER 25
A few hours later, Roxy finally comes to. Whatever they hit her over the head with managed to make quite the shiner on her forehead. She holds a freezer burned packaged steak over the bruise as she mumbles to herself about needing to get to the makeup shop befo
re work on Monday.
She looks over at the tattoo seat next to her, nodding up towards me, “What the hell are you going to do there?”
I put down the ink I’m mixing up in the small clear vials. After a long consideration, I’ve picked a dark black. Pink was my first option, but it fades so easily, especially in places where the skin flakes like the forehead and neck. But this black is top of the line, primo stuff. I was half surprised to see it in the basic kit Mack had ordered through Ian’s friend. This ink should be clear as day for decades at least.
I hand Roxy a printout from Ian’s email to me. On my way over, I had remembered a poster he had made for his tattoo artists of banned gang symbols and club insignias we were to look out for. At the bottom, he had added that circle with the three lines, but I’m not going to use that one. I had taken that symbol back for something good. Those with that tattoo were survivors and warriors, not dead bodies lying on the floor in Mack’s memories.
“I don’t understand,” Roxy admits. “You’re just going to tattoo these things onto him? What’s that going to do?”
Mack sits next to her in one of my guest chairs. He rolls to my side as he explains over the sound of the tattoo gun firing up with my pedal. “There’s a reason why that’s Ian’s banned list of tattoos. Putting the wrong tattoo on the wrong guy could get him killed. Those are symbols of memberships and having multiples make you look disrespectful at best, a traitor at most. So this wannabe thinks he can be a club member and roll with us, he can handle having every Portland club and gang’s logo tattooed onto his face.”
Roxy laughs loudly as I begin. Carefully, I trace the outline on his oily, red skin. I don’t have much time to get the job done before the drugs we forced him to take wear off and Detective Joey comes to round him up for his confession, but I still turn my music up. It only takes a few moments until I drift away into the work on my latest canvas.
—-
Five Months Later
“Come on, Anna! We’re going to be late. You know how much I fucking hate being late to anything.” Mack yells up at me from the bottom of the stairwell of our new home. I glance down at him as I pass to the second bedroom I’ve converted into my artist study. He looks hot in that black wool suit I’ve picked out for him. It’s a far change from the three pairs of jeans and six dirty shirts sitting in the one dresser I forced him to use when he moved me in here three months ago.
“I’m coming!” I call back, searching through the pile of papers of my sketches. There are flowers and starscapes painted in watercolors and abstract drawings of people’s faces. Underneath a book of figure drawings—mostly Dragon members who agreed to sit still for more than two minutes so I could sketch them—is the congratulations I’ve been looking for. I tuck it inside my billfold style purse and then head back downstairs.
“You look fantastic, Anna,” Mack says as he stares at me longingly from the doorway. “If we had time, I’d take you right here and now… I’d slip my hand right up the back of that slit and force down those panties…”
“Down, boy,” I scold him like the good-natured dog he is. “Your sister would kill us if we showed up to her restaurant re-opening with messy hair and lipstick stains.” Still, I add with a wink, making sure that my hand just casually passes over the seam of his suit pants, “But maybe we can fool around in the parking lot after we’re done. For old times’ sake.”
“That’s what I like to hear!” he exclaims as he slaps the back side of his hand against my ass. I fix my tight red pencil skirt and then usher him out the door towards the waiting car. It’s been nearly a half of a year since Riley was out on the streets, but I still check behind me and over my shoulder whenever I leave the house. Mack tells me this nervous tick will go away, but as long as he’s living, even if it’s in some high security prison serving five life sentences without a parole, I’ll still be cautious.
The driver of the limo opens the back door for me, watching me slide on the leather seat to the far end of the passenger side. Mack gives him a brutish look before asking, “You know the plan?” He nods and runs to the driver’s side.
“Plan? We’re just getting dinner, right?”
“We’ve got to stop off and take care of some business first. It won’t take long.” He goes silent, his hands fidgeting in his lap. I watch the car speed off towards an unknown destination while occasionally looking back at Mack shifting in his seat, playing with the seat belt, pressing his hands into his pockets. Whatever business he’s planned on handling tonight, it doesn’t look like he’s exactly eager to do it.
I’ve become used to it, though. While I try to stay out of Dragon business, it’s kind of fallen on me to keep the books, manage the schedule, and communicate with a few of the families and girlfriends in the loop. I even spent yesterday organizing a charity ride in honor of the women who lost their husbands in Riley’s attack. It’s the least I could do considering the boys have opened a third Crazy 9’s Tattoo Parlor for me.
The limo comes to a stop in front of a large metal gate. The driver walks out and unlocks the padlock with a key from his pocket. He pulls the car forward, and suddenly it dawns on me where we are.
“I thought we could go see your mom. We haven’t done that in months.” Mack points towards a grave nearest the entryway still muddy and fresh. The attendant told me that grass wouldn’t grow for another year or two, but I spent a few days mixing flower seeds with the dirt in hopes that something would pop up in that space. Walking to the headstone, I see a small bud of flower stubbornly growing in the flattened mound.
We both hold hands as we stare at the headstone. I’m so overwhelmed with emotions that I’m not sure if I can even talk. Mack rubs at the knuckles of my thumb before clearing his throat, “Hello Ms. Fox. I know I never got to really introduce myself to you, and I’ve only stopped by a few times with your daughter, but I’m here today to ask you a question.”
I look up at him as he stares straight at the headstone reading, Lana Fox: Beloved mother and inspiration to all.
He continues as he places his hands in his pocket, “I have had this ring for a few months now. I actually bought it the day after I got your daughter back, but I finally got the nerve to pick it up recently. It didn’t seem right to not ask your permission before I ask her to marry me. So here I am. I just want to make sure your daughter is safe, loved, and wants for nothing. That’s all I can offer her. I’ll spend the rest of my life giving her everything that I have.”
“Mack…” My voice trails off, lost in my cries of happiness.
“If you could just do me a favor and watch out for us, keep us protected, and I’ll do the rest.” He finally turns towards me, getting down on one knee in the muck of the ground. My world melts and spins around me as he says the words, “Anna Fox, will you do me the honor—”
I don’t let him finish the question.
THE END
MINE
Chapter 1
Italian weddings were always madness, and this one was no different. Between making sure the buffet tables were constantly full, to keeping her staff on the task at hand—rather than allowing themselves to be dragged into the festivities—Liana Caterina had her plate full. Then there was the constant refilling of wine glasses, the defusing of tense situations between drunken family members, and the constant juggling of plates. She was dead tired. Her feet ached like she’d been hobbling around in high heels, rather than the sensible black leather sneakers that were both slip proof and reinforced at the toe.
It never hurt to be prepared in this game.
And Lord, what a game weddings could be! She’d worked dozens and still had never quite gotten the hang of it. No wedding, so far, had turned out perfect. This one, however, was looking suspiciously like it might.
The night was drawing to a close. The last of the dessert plates had been cleared from the tables, the dance floor had become less of a gyrating mess of bodies and more of a gentle rocking ocean, and so far nobody had come and yelled at
her about something they’d found issue with.
In a couple more hours, Liana would be at home. And though she was beat, she knew she’d have to practice her singing for at least a few songs before she could get to bed. Art required sacrifice, and she would give everything to music if it demanded it of her.
The ceiling swirled with different colored lights. They looked almost like stars. Liana found herself watching them as she walked around the room, her eyes inevitably tracking back up each time she tried to focus them on the task in front of her. She was sleepy and feared that staring at the lights for too long would have her dozing off. Instead, she slipped into the back kitchen to check on the waitstaff who were having their dinner there.
Christina and Damien, her two best servers, were halfway through plates loaded with steak, fingerling potatoes, and green salad. It was a simple enough fare, which had surprised Liana when she first got the order. Families like the ones she served today could afford their food to be a little more gauche, but instead, they’d opted to keep it simple and light. The steaks, of course, were top quality, but they still could have ordered a seafood feast without batting an eyelid.