Too Rough For Love

by Adair Rymer

  “Get off.” As I spoke, I watched her eyes widen and her cheeks redden. It sparked my curiosity. Was that embarrassment splayed across her features? “The bike,” I continued, looking for signs to confirm my suspicions.

  She slid off the seat and pulled at the edges of her skirt as if she could somehow make it longer. I rubbed two fingers across her seat, it was moist. Looking to see if she would flinch, I brought them to my nose and breathed it in. Breathed her in. I cracked a sliver of a smile and groaned, not breaking eye contact. She swallowed hard then finally looked away.

  Past my new toy, I saw the guys walking Crutch inside. The fun was over for now, there was work to do.

  “Let's go.” She followed. The girl was my goddamn shadow as we all piled in through the bikers' entrance. I absently pointed to a table in the corner, she dutifully went off and sat down, then I joined the rest of the guys by the pool tables. Crutch was taken into the back room to get cleaned and sewn up. He'd sleep like death tonight, but he'd survive. I had Tee take a few guys out to the back meadow to start the hole. We'd get a stone for Bren in a day or two but we'd put him in the ground tonight.

  The staff had the bar cleared when Top walked in the room cradling the boy. Bren's face was so pale, it looked like he was replaced with a lifelike mannequin. It hit everyone hard because he was so young. He was our club's unofficial mascot. Everyone's kid brother. Top took it the worst for obvious reasons.

  Bren had, of course, skipped Acquaintance status but was stuck as Top's personal Hang Around for—hell, ever since he became old enough to ride. We'd vote him in every year and every year Top would black ball him. In a brotherhood like ours it had to be unanimous. This past summer, Top finally caved and let him join proper but he was gonna hold Bren at Prospect. That was until we all bitched at him. Top agreed to just make him Full Patch and be done with it. Bren would've been eighteen in a few months.

  After Muse's chesty hug and peck on the cheek, I was at the bar next to the big man. Top had our shots ready. It was just the three of us. Me, Top and Bren. The rest of the guys knew to give us some space, the first drink was for blood only. Top took out his nine-millimeter, dropped the clip and thumbed out two rounds.

  “I shoulda never let him in,” the big man mumbled.

  “Nope,” I agreed. I picked up the bullet and rolled it through my fingers. What could I say? Top was right. Our younger brother was just that, too young. Bren didn't even have his gun out when he was killed.

  Some of our crew had been killed in the past, it was always rough but never this close to home. I rolled the bullet to the back of my tongue and raised the shot glass. Top followed suit. We clinked glasses and downed our poison. Now all three of the Daniels brothers had a bullet in them.

  Top stood up, slapped me on the back and started the eulogy. He'd been on my mind the whole ride here, the last thing I wanted was to hear more sad stories. There were a lot of cheers, speeches and booze going around as they recounted everything from the first time he'd come around to the first time they'd got him laid. I was no good at these things so I slipped to the back of the group.

  I glanced back at my latest mistake to make sure she hadn't run off. She was right where I left her, looking small as ever. Her head in her crossed arms hunched over the table, no doubt hoping to go unnoticed. Her eyes and nose poked up over her elbows as she surveyed the room. She looked like the scared puppy Top brought home for Bren back in the day. I guess this time I had brought home the puppy. Part of me worried that Top would break this puppy like he'd broke the last one. He could be a real vicious son of a bitch.

  I wondered how crafty she was. Would she try to escape? I saw a bit of fire in her earlier and beneath her demureness I hoped to see it again.

  “Remy!” Skank waved me over. “We're doing it, man. Come on.”

  I guess Tee must've finished that hole. I whistled over to the girl, when she looked up I cocked my head toward the door. I wouldn't let her out of my sight if I could help it, just in case she did try to run.

  “No,” Top rigidly declared. He had the boy over one hulking shoulder. His eyes were daggers. “The bitch stays.” It was a tone that said 'I hadn't forgotten about her.'

  So much for that I guess. What'd I care anyways? It was only a matter of time before she was put in the ground too. Fuck her. She wasn't worth wasting my time on.

  Most of the ceremony was done at the bar so when we put Bren in the ground that was more or less the end of it. Muse said a few words that made us all feel like shit and also lifted our spirits a little. She coulda been one hell of a politician.

  I was going to miss Bren.

  Muse led the dour parade back inside and kicked on some music. She was determined to lift the mood of the place. Her announcement that the booze was on her tonight met with a resounding cheer and when she called some trashy waitresses onto the bar to dance, the place went nuts. The rest of her girls started to filter in too. They were mostly junkies that ranged from their late teens to their late forties.

  Muse was a businesswoman at heart and a cunning one at that. That's why she treated us so damn well. We were good for business. We sold her the drugs that she, in turn, sold to the motel guests and to her girls, of course. Above all, we had a safe place to crash and she knew that her property was never going to be fucked with by outsiders.

  I nestled in on a stool at the end and awaited a mug of whatever they were pouring. This tattooed blonde took the stool next to me and slid me a beer. The track marks on her arms told me that she was house property. She wasn't too weathered yet that she could be mistaken for anything but early twenties. Must be a new girl. That was nice of Muse.

  “Hey, sugar, I'm Debbs. Muse told me to take extra special care a you tonight,” she cooed in my ear.

  I looked her over and took the beer, but wasn't in a talkative mood. That didn't phase her, she pressed on anyways. She told me about how much of a dick her boyfriend was and how he wasn't fucking her enough. That routine must work wonders with the other bikers. Usually I was better at tolerating the small talk bullshit, but there was just too much on my mind.

  “Shut the fuck up.” Blessedly, the blonde complied. I grabbed her inner thigh and planted her back down as she rose. “I didn't say leave.”

  A few minutes later, Top leaned against the bar next to me. I didn't have to turn around to know he was scouting the girl from the gas station. “What are you doing, Rem?”

  “Having a good time till you showed up.” I knew where this was going.

  “I thought you put all that behind you?”

  “No idea what you're talking about.” I lied.

  “Maria.” Top stated sympathetically. “She's dead, Remy. Let her stay dead.”

  “It's not like that.”

  “No? You develop a type all of a sudden?”

  “The girl doesn't mean a damn thing to me.”

  “Ok. Ok. What'ya say we have ourselves a little fun then?” Top asked.

  I shrugged. Top whistled the girl over, she hesitated and looked to me. Unfortunately for her, Top picked up on that.

  “Don't look at him. You get. The fuck. Over. Here.” Top didn't tolerate disrespect and I think she could sense that, because she scampered over immediately. When the girl was in arms reach Top grabbed her and pulled her closer. “What's your name girl?” Top asked her sweetly.

  “Star.” Surprisingly she wasn't as cowed as I figured she'd be. The girl wasn't spineless.

  “You like to dance, Star?” She didn't answer. “I asked you a fucking question.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Looks like it's your lucky day, bitch.” Top picked her up with ease and sat her on the bar. She squeaked as he took hold of her cardigan and tank-top and ripped them open to her navel. He then gently reached behind her and with surprising delicacy, unclasped her bra. “And I'd better like what I see, ya hear? You’re off to a good start.”

  He pulled the bra back to gawk at her perky tits. Then elbowed for me to check them o
ut. They were nice. I watched passively as he flipped his index finger rapidly over her tiny, pink nipples. She recoiled backwards, one hand covering her breasts and stumbled to her feet, all of which drew a hearty laugh from the giant.

  The music switched over from the rock we were used to, to something faster with a better beat for dancing. Star was one of three girls on the bar and was the slowest to start actually moving. I had to give her a little credit. Most civilian girls in her situation wouldn't be capable of getting up there without crying their faces off.

  Hollers of “Take it off!” and “Fuck yeah, baby!” rang throughout the place. The other girls loved the attention. Their halter tops and bras flung at cheering men and some women. As the bass lines and beat got louder the girls reveled in it, lewdly thrusting their tight, ripped jeans covered hips all over, shaking their tits and grinding on each other with a reckless abandon that they confused with sexy a decade back.

  Star was different. Her eyes glossed over and she fell into a trance. She started out slowly, her shoulders and hips fluidly moving in opposites. Her hands chased her curves as she lowered herself slowly back and forth into a squat, then onto her knees completely. The dark hair cascaded in a plume as she whipped it over her arching back. She slowly swerved up off the bar.

  Guys pulled their drinks away so as not to impede her in anyway. Soon the raucous cheers and hoots quieted as all eyes in the room fell on this unlikely girl. Her tempo started to pick up, raising my pulse rate with it. The girl could move. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I only noticed I was at halfmast when my dick pushed into the front of my jeans. It was uncomfortable enough for me to reach in and adjust. The way this girl was dancing, I was going to need more room to harden.

  As soon as I pulled my hand out I felt another hand go in. The blonde next to me had taken it as a cue. I felt her fingers wrap around my cock one by one. At first she kept it still and just squeezed. It felt nice. The blonde stared at me, trying to sway my attention. She was rubbing her crotch through her jeans and was biting her lip a little too exaggeratedly.

  For me, the show was on the stage. Star's hips pulsed on her way back up. Her tits, mostly still concealed, peeked out infrequently as her body twisted. She ran her hands over them, pushing them together or sliding past altogether on her way to and through her hair. Her distant, worlds-away gaze flitted across the room above everyone's head, finally crashing into my own hyper focused stare.

  The blonde next to me worked my cock with long jealous strokes. She leaned to kiss me but I darted my head away and glowered at her as I would a buzzing fly, then turned back to Star. Her grip on my cock loosened, she recoiled as if I'd just slapped her.

  I could see it in Star's movement. Fuck everyone else, she was dancing just for me. When the blonde started squeezing me again I imagined it was Star. My cock flexed and throbbed, I pictured Star's hand sliding over the tip of my penis. Her hand jerking me back and forth.

  Suddenly I was no longer constrained, the blonde had opened my pants and my cock sprung out. Not to be easily out done, she licked her hand and went back to it. I got a clap on the back and a cheer by one of the other guys that walked by. Most of the guys liked to sleep alone so it wasn't uncommon for them to bend a girl over the pool table for a half hour then crash out. Hose and Copper Head shared a ratty, old slut on the floor by the booths. Nobody gave a fuck about who fucked who, or where.

  The other three girls had already hopped off the bar and were working the crowd, leaving only Star. Star crawled toward me. Her eyelids heavy, head tilted back, pink tongue sliding between the black sliver of her parted lips. I could feel the blonde's breath on the tip of my dick for just a moment before she rammed my shaft down her throat.

  Star kept advancing until she saw the shock of blonde hair rising and falling rapidly in my lap. The spell was broken, it was like someone pulled the plug on her libido. She just stood there dejected. I realized immediately that that was her play! She must have been banking on seducing me. If she kept me busy tonight, she wouldn't be at the whim of everyone that wanted to try her out. I bet she didn't know that she just used a prison tactic on me. Fuck, I like this girl. She's crafty.

  My smug revelation was cut short when Top ripped her off the bar. I was surprised to feel a little... bad about that. Her plan worked too well but on the wrong guy. Top was going to ruin her. Not just because he wanted to fuck, but because of who she was. Anyone could see that he blamed her for Bren's death, even if only vicariously. He was also making good on his promise earlier. When he says something in front of the whole club, come hell or high water, Top delivers. He doesn't do idle threats. Yeah, she'll be alive after he's done with her, but no ones going to want to fuck her, she'll only be suitable for a bullet.

  I downed the rest of my beer, feeling conflicted. So what, who cared? The girl on my dick worked furiously. Too fast in all the wrong ways. I was nowhere close to coming and watching Star get dragged to the far wall was killing my hard-on. It didn't help that junkies always gave the worst blowjobs and this bitch was no exception.

  “It's a cock, not a goddamn lollipop.” She looked wounded and slid her mouth off my wet dick in a pitiful display. After a pause, she started in again with her hand. I immediately stopped her and put my shit away. “Forget it. Just get me another beer.”

  Top had torn off the remainder of Star's shirt. She fought him off the best she could but that wasn't saying much. I'm sure he was enjoying the challenge. I forced myself to look away, this wasn't my problem. She was dead anyway. That's just the way shit goes. Top had a right to take whatever the fuck he wanted. He kept the club together, kept us thriving. Who was I to complain.

  “No!” Her scream rang out all the way across the room even over the music. I reached for my box of smokes, packed it and pulled one. The fire was always soothing for me. Yeah, the nicotine too, but it was the act of something burning, drawing smoke in and out that really hooked me. I wasn't soothed or distracted. I wasn't drunk enough and I didn't feel like weed or coke.

  The screams were sharply cut off, I snapped my head toward her instantly. He had his hand over her nose and mouth. She writhed and suffocated while he tore off her panties and smelled them, then he let her breathe. She gasped for air and struggled away. He caught her and did it all again. Fuck, I couldn't watch this.

  The drunkest motherfucker I could find was Black Nicky, big Scottish guy with a neatly trimmed chinstrap beard. He was our Sergeant at Arms. The bastard that kept us all in line. Mostly.

  He was passed out at the bar. Perfect. I snatched the beer out of the blonde's hand and bee lined for him. I took a big sip, put the beer on the bar and shook him awake.

  “Nicky. Black Nicky, wake the fuck up.”

  “Imup imup... I'm up!” he snorted.

  “Did you hear what they just said?” Nicky's eyes opened really wide, then shut. I was losing him, so I stood him up and continued. “Fuck you, you mother fucker!” One arm around the drunk Scott, I shouted at the group of guys directly across from us. They regarded us with confusion. Then, quieter, I turned back to Nicky. “They said that you always wanted to fuck Bren like you fucked sheep back in the old country.”

  “That was only one time!” Nicky screamed. The haze lifted as the words permeated. He flew into a rage and launched himself at the bewildered bikers. He took three of them to the ground. Black Nicky was a big mother fucker. Tee jumped in to tear Nicky off of them. I tossed my beer on Gunny who was face deep in a girl half his age and laid Tee out with a heavy blow. I'd buy all Tee's rounds tomorrow night. He didn't deserve this, but I needed Nicky to tear it up for a while longer.

  Gunny then jumped in. I had to duck a chair thrown by Twatch, who somehow lost her pants in all this. Not the first time she was bare-assed in a bar fight. Her husband Twitch was a lightweight and passed out an hour ago as always.

  It was pandemonium. Guys were throwing punches just to hit something. They were still pissed off about what happened to Bren and desperately needed to blo
w off steam. They were a powder-keg, I just supplied the match.

  It wasn't enough. One hand on her throat, Top was too enthralled with Star to notice or care about anything else. He watched her wiggle desperately. His other hand worked its way down her stomach to her skirt. Damn. Looks like I'm going to need a lamb.

  I pulled aside one of the terrified bartenders, this redhead was a little thicker than the other girls. She was the shift leader. I could tell she was still new to that position by how thoroughly Muse went over the closing procedures with her before she left. That, and I don't remember seeing her before. Muse went through a lot of help.

  “What's your name, darlin?” I started going through the motions.

  “Britney,” she whispered.

  “Pretty crazy, huh?” I nodded in feigned disbelief.

  “Oh my god, yes! What do we do?” Britney was terrified. I could tell that she'd never seen any fights like this before.

  “Not much you can do. Sure as hell can't call the cops and Muse is asleep. Don’t wanna wake her up.” I ducked a beer glass that smashed into the top shelf of liqueur behind the bar. Glass and booze went everywhere. That was a tragedy.

  “Fuck! Jesus!” Britney cried.

  I pointed. “You see that big guy over there? His name's Top. If you want a job in the morning I recommend you go try to talk him down. He can stop all this but he only listens to the cute bartenders.” I winked at her.

  “I—I don't know.” Another glass sailed across the room.

  “You're in charge, aren't you, Britney?” I asked.

  Her worry was apparent, but she decided she wanted to keep her job and went to talk with Top. Plead with, more likely. Poor girl.

  “You!” I called out to the other bartender who was cowering on the floor. “Got any extra work shirts kicking around? I need a pair of pants too. Something your size.”

  She slipped out the side door and returned a minute later with two hand fulls of clothing. Britney was having some trouble convincing Top. He'd been drinking for a while and was all riled up. Finally, Britney got him to acknowledge her. Pants around his ankles, cock at full attention, he was just about to throw it in Star.