Cash

by Hildreth, Scott

  “What’s a cum-fest?”

  “All of the bikers surround the girl and whack off on her face. She isn’t allowed to wash it off.”

  I gave her a look of disgust, followed by another of disbelief. “Ever?”

  “She can either eat it or have one of the other club whores lick it off,” she said as if the statement were absolute fact.

  With my look of disbelief still etched on my face, I moved the hose to the Chalk Live Forevers. “I don’t believe those things actually happen.”

  With her back painfully arched and her tits and face pointed skyward, she didn’t bother opening her eyes to respond. “You haven’t read any of those books yet, have you?”

  “I haven’t had time.”

  She tilted her head to the side and opened her eyes. “Maybe you should. They’re a wealth of information.”

  I swallowed heavily. “Sounds like it.”

  Wondering if Cash not coming by was more of a Godsend than anything else, I surveyed the remaining flowers. “If that’s what real bikers are like, why would you want to be with one?”

  “Sex,” she responded. “It’s all about the sex.”

  “Nothing more?”

  “It can’t be with them.” she said adamantly. “They won’t stand for it.”

  I wanted to challenge her, tell her she was wrong, or provide something to support my belief that Cash wasn’t like that. His absence, however, left me to question myself. The night he left, I would have guessed his return was imminent. After ten days of not so much as a word out of him, I couldn’t help but wonder if Jennifer’s books were written by former club whores who were truly knowledgeable of an MC’s behavior. Meth addicts who had spent their days spreading their bodily fluids on the stripper poles in clubs such as Cash’s.

  “I don’t need a man in my life,” I said. “If he stops by, he stops by. If not, I’m fine with that, too.”

  She shifted her attention skyward. “If he does, are you going to give him another blowie, or are you going to ride that big dick of his?”

  “Probably neither.” I dragged the hose around the porch and started watering the Cleveland Sage on the other side. “At least not until I know him better.”

  “What’s to know?” she asked. “Anything he tells you is going to be a lie. Then, if you have sex with him based on those lies, it’ll hurt that much more when he disappears. Have sex with him because you want that dick. Not for any other reason. Then, when he disappears, you got what you wanted, he got what he wanted, and no one got hurt.”

  For once in my life, Jennifer’s illogical sexual babble made sense. Not perfect sense, but sense, nonetheless. I’d already established my worth by denying Cash sex when he asked the first time.

  I had no further points to prove.

  If he stopped by, my focus would be about me and my needs, and nothing more. The last thing I needed was a man in my life that was destined to hurt me again.

  TWELVE - Cash

  After blocking the elevator door so Tito would have to take the stairs, I got a head start on our race to Goose’s house. Taking the back way was less scenic – and required traveling along some poorly paved sections of road – but the shorter route secured my place in the record book as being the man with the faster bike.

  Using his palms as a squeegee, Goose ran his hands over his freshly buzzed hair and then wiped them on his jeans. “Why’d you come running up here like that?”

  “Tito...” I heaved to catch my breath. “Race.”

  “You raced Tito?”

  I pressed my hands against the thighs of my jeans and nodded. “Yeah.”

  “From the shop?”

  I nodded. “Uh huh.”

  He glanced at my bike, and then looked at me. “Well, you’re clearly the winner. Why’d you come running across the yard like that? Shit, you look like you’re going to have a heart attack.”

  “Wanted to…make it look…like I’d been here for...a while…when he got …here.”

  He shook his head and reached for the handle of the shovel that was at his side. “You’re an idiot.”

  “Sometimes.” I wagged my eyebrows. “Yeah.”

  “Sometimes?” He laughed and then pushed the shovel into the sandy soil. “You’re a full-time idiot. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

  “What the fuck, Brother?”

  “It’s the truth.” He gestured toward the pile of tools at the side of the ditch he was digging. “I’ve got to dig a hole big enough to drain the entire line and give me enough room to solder in a new coupling. Grab a shovel, Speed Racer.”

  I reached for a shovel. “Little prick put in a big inch kit, and he was bragging his little midget ass off about it, saying how fast it was.”

  “A Dyna with a one-hundred-and-ten-inch motor is going to be a fast son-of-a-bitch.”

  My eyes went wide. “One ten? I though he was going to a ninety-six?”

  “Nope. Jugs, heads, pistons. The whole kit. It’s a one ten. Hell, his bike weights, what? Six fifty? Yours is eight hundred, easily. No comparison, really. He should have whipped your ass.”

  I pushed the shovel into the soil, and then stomped my boot against it. “I knocked his fancy little laptop on the floor, kicked him over when he reached for it, and then blocked the elevator door. It was good for a five-minute head start.”

  He tossed a shovelful of dirt into the pile. “You understand winning a race like that isn’t winning, don’t you?”

  “It might be cheating, but it’s Tito. He needs his ass kicked.”

  “You’ve been on his ass since we were kids. One of these days he’s going to go ape-shit on your ass and wad you up in one of those arm bar things. He’ll break your arm off and beat you with the bloody stub.”

  “He’s fun to fuck with,” I said. “I always end up on top.”

  “You end up on top because he lets you.”

  “The fuck he does.”

  The sound of Tito’s exhaust echoed in the distance. Goose cocked his head the side. “Speak of the devil. Here he comes.”

  The unmistakable drone from the high-performance Harley engine grew closer and closer, and then appeared to stop making progress. After a moment of idling, the engine quit.

  He looked at me and grinned. “Sounds like he stopped down there where your sexy dick sucking friend lives.”

  Goose lived at one end of a long block, and Kimberly at the other. With the change in elevation of the road – and the distance between the two homes – seeing her house from his yard was impossible.

  “Probably got pulled over by the cops for speeding,” I said.

  He wiped his brow. “Probably poking his fat dick down her throat as payback for cheating on the race.”

  I’d purposely come in from the opposite direction, so I wasn’t sure if she was home. My jaw tightened at the thought of him being there.

  “He knows better,” I said.

  “You said in the meeting you were done with her.” He scooped a shovelful of dirt from the ditch and tossed it aside. “I’d say she’s fair game.”

  I’d said the same thing in Baker’s office thirty minutes prior. Despite what I’d said, the thought of Tito’s dick being in Kimberly’s mouth caused my blood pressure to skyrocket.

  “She’s not fair game,” I said through my teeth.

  “Hell, this can wait ten minutes.” He stepped out of the ditch and tossed the shovel aside. “Let’s run up there and see what’s going on.”

  I tossed my shovel beside him and then turned toward my motorcycle. “If his dick’s in her mouth, you’ll need that shovel to bury his dumb ass.”

  THIRTEEN - Kimberly

  Sitting on the edge of my small concrete porch with her bare legs stretched onto the sidewalk and her elbows propped at her sides, Jennifer looked like she was sunbathing at the beach.

  “That looks really classy,” I said. “I hope the neighbors aren’t watching.”

  “It wouldn’t be a newsflash, or anything.” She t
ilted her head in my direction. “The neighbors know I don’t have an ounce of class.”

  I gestured toward her sparsely covered chest. “You should be in the back yard. One of your boobs is going to fall out the side of that thing.”

  “I’m ready for a mimosa. I was up all night reading,” she complained. “Hurry up, so we can go lay out.”

  The darker Jennifer’s skin was, the happier she was. She spent her late mornings and early afternoons maintaining her tan; sometimes at home, and oftentimes in my back yard. I enjoyed being outdoors with her, but my natural skin tone was such that I preferred to be slathered in enough sunscreen to preclude my skin from darkening any further.

  I moved the hose to the end of the flower bed. “I’m almost done.”

  The sound of a motorcycle in the distance caused me to look up.

  Jennifer jumped to her feet. “Sounds like Dolla Bill’s coming.”

  My heart raced at the thought of seeing him. The frustrations that had developed over the course of our conversation about stripper poles and cum-fests promptly vanished. As the sound of him approaching grew louder, I wondered just how resistant I could be to any advances he might make.

  With the hose dangling loosely from my left hand, I gazed up the block and waited for a glimpse of him, hoping he wasn’t simply going to rush past. When the motorcycle came into view, my heart sank as I realized it wasn’t him.

  The rider’s eyes locked on Jennifer as he rode past. Hers, in turn, followed him. The motorcycle slowed. Jennifer tugged at her top, ensuring the proper portions of her anatomy were exposed for his viewing pleasure.

  Then, in the middle of the street, the motorcycle came to a stop.

  “Jesus, Jennifer,” I whispered. “Now what?”

  While the rider glanced over his left shoulder, Jennifer took a few steps toward the street. In response, he turned the motorcycle around and promptly pulled into my driveway.

  He shut the engine off and removed his helmet.

  I was shocked at his age. Lack of age was more like it. He appeared young.

  Really young.

  “He’s Jason’s age,” I whispered.

  She either didn’t hear me or didn’t care. As she strutted toward him, he stepped off the motorcycle and set his helmet on the seat.

  He was muscular, covered in tattoos, and all-around adorable looking. Adorable, and the same age as Jennifer’s son, Jason.

  She glanced at the motorcycle and then looked at him. “That thing looks like it doesn’t have room for two.”

  “It doesn’t,” he said. “But, I’ve got a few others that do.”

  “You should ride one of them the next time you’re coming this way.” She pushed her hands into the front pockets of her shorts. “Are you going up the street to see your buddy?”

  “I was.”

  I released the trigger on the spray nozzle and stared in disbelief at Jennifer’s fascination in the young biker.

  “We see you guys ride by here all the time,” she said.

  He folded his arms across his wide chest and looked right at her. “You’re going to need to cancel any plans you’ve got for this evening.”

  “Am I?” She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Why’s that?”

  “Because I’m going to come by at seven and pick you up.” His eyes scanned her from top to bottom, pausing at her bikini top for a long look. “Wear something you don’t mind getting wrinkled.”

  “You’re picking me up?” She stopped rocking. “Tonight? At seven?”

  He nodded. “I am.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “Did you say that you want me to wear something that’s wrinkle-free?”

  “You can wear whatever you want.” He looked her over again, and then met her gaze. “But It’s going to get wrinkled when I take it off and toss it on the floor.”

  Jennifer pressed her biceps into the sides of her boobs. “Sounds like a fun night.”

  I struggled with thoughts of turning the hose in their direction and spraying them both. It appeared her books were spot-on. Bikers were after one thing and one thing only.

  Sex.

  He wasn’t even beating around the proverbial bush. He went right to the point, and Jennifer offered no opposition to his cheesy come-on.

  I mentally rolled my eyes but couldn’t bring myself to stop watching. While the biker with no name was in the middle of saying something, the roar of motorcycles from the other direction drowned out his voice.

  Two motorcycles careened over the hill. Then, they shot up the street and came to a screeching stop in front of the house. I felt a little apprehensive when I realized one of them was Cash. I quickly recognized the other rider as the neighbor from down the street.

  Cash hopped off his motorcycle and stomped toward the driveway. After edging his way between the youthful biker and Jennifer, he gave the young man a glare.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Tito?” Cash barked.

  Tito puffed his chest and hardened his gaze. “Whatever the fuck I want to, Brother.”

  Cash’s jaw tightened. Then, his fists clenched. “You’ve got no business up here, little man.”

  “Last I checked, Baker was president of this club, and you were the muscle.” He looked Cash over. “I’m wondering if maybe you should relinquish that position. It should go to the toughest man in the club.”

  I had no idea what was going on, but it was clear that Cash wasn’t very happy with Tito’s decision to stop by. I wondered if Cash had somehow laid claim to me, which prevented any of the other men from coming near me or my place of residence.

  I was flattered and confused at the same time.

  “What the fuck are you trying to say, midget?” Cash snapped back.

  Tito’s mouth twisted into a smirk. “Are you too dumb to figure it out?”

  Cash took a step back and raised his hands slightly. “If you’re feeling froggy, motherfucker, jump.”

  Fearing the next step from either of them would require an ambulance, the police, or both, I set the hose down and stepped off the porch. “It’s awfully hot out here this morning. Would any of you care for a drink?”

  The neighbor looked at me and grinned a sly grin. “Might want to grab that hose and spray these two before things get ugly.”

  Tito let out a long breath. “My apologies.” He glanced at the neighbor, Cash, and then me. “Sure. I’d love a drink.”

  The neighbor gave a sharp nod. “Whatever you’ve got would be nice. Thank you.”

  Cash glared at Tito for a few seconds, took a step back, and then walked to my side. “I’ll come with you.”

  “Make me a mimosa, if you don’t mind,” Jennifer said.

  Cash accompanied me to the porch, and then opened the front door and gestured inside. “After you.”

  “What was all that about?” I asked as I walked inside. “Can I ask?”

  “Nothing.”

  I opened the refrigerator and grabbed the orange juice. “Were you mad because he was here?”

  “I sure as fuck wasn’t happy about it,” he said.

  Knowing he cared enough to get angry made me feel better about our situation. The argument between the two men seemed juvenile, nonetheless.

  “What does it matter?” I asked. “He wasn’t doing anything but hitting on Jennifer.”

  “What did he say?”

  Thinking of what he said caused me to laugh. “He said he was going to pick her up tonight at seven, and that she should wear clothes that she wasn’t worried about wrinkling.”

  Cash’s eyebrows raised. “Because he was going to toss them on the floor?”

  “Yeah. But. How’d you…Does he say that a lot?”

  Cash exhaled heavily. “Before you and I came in the house, did he know whether it was you or Jennifer that lived here?”

  I looked up from pouring the orange juice. “I guess not. How would he?”

  His jaw tightened.

  “What?” I asked.

  His e
yes shifted to the window and peered out at the group. “Nothing.”

  I made Jennifer’s mimosa in silence. When I finished, Cash grabbed three bottles of water from the refrigerator and followed me outside. After I handed Jennifer her drink, Cash offered me one of the bottles. Then he gave one to the neighbor.

  I wondered if the last was for him, and if he purposely only got three, leaving Tito without a drink.

  I didn’t wonder for long.

  He extended his left hand, offering the last bottle to his MC Brother. When Tito reached for it with his right hand, Cash swung his right fist into the side of his jaw.

  The punch landed with a crack! The impact knocked Tito completely off his feet. As he came crashing down onto his back in the driveway, the water bottle shot skyward. Appearing almost delirious, he looked up at Cash with wide eyes.

  The bottle of water slowly rolled toward the street.

  Cash kicked it aside and loomed over Tito with his fists clenched. “I’m the muscle of this club for a reason,” he said through his teeth. “Maybe now you’ll have an easier time remembering why.”

  FOURTEEN - Cash

  Baker stood behind his desk and gazed out at the street. While unidentifiable folk music played, I fidgeted in my seat. I realized he wouldn’t be happy with my decision, but it didn’t change how I felt.

  I never second guessed myself. If I justified doing something, questioning myself later about it didn’t make sense. So, I always stood behind my actions. Punching Tito in the jaw might not have been how Baker would have resolved the situation, but as far as I was concerned it was the only way.

  When the song was over, Baker turned to face me. “Tito’s jaw’s fractured in two places. Nose is broken, too.”

  “Serves the little prick right,” I said.

  He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers – a surefire sign that he was angry as fuck with me. After an awkward period of silence, he opened his eyes. “It’s bad enough they had to wire it shut.”