11. Squeak
An hour prior…
Not ready to go home and hide amid the darkness in my apartment, I came to a restaurant that looked like a hole-in-the-wall place. The peeling and chipping brick exterior made me hesitant to park my car in the parking lot on the side of the building. My nerves danced with every step before I reached the front door. Yet the heavenly and soulful aroma penetrating my nose pushed me forward. Now, I’m sitting at a booth off to the side of the front door, staring at the menu, trying to determine what I’m in the mood to eat. Unlike most restaurants, this one had a sign stating the open seating allowance upon entry.
“Welcome to Evie’s Table. My name is Delores, and I’ll be taking care of you. Can I get you some water while you look over the menu?” a mature female voice says, pulling me from the options available.
“Yes, please,” I say, returning the warm smile Ms. Delores is displaying.
Fondness and joy shine through her brown eyes, causing my weary disposition to instantly settle the longer I stare at this woman who’s old enough to be my aunt.
“Coming right up, sweetie,” Ms. Delores says, sauntering away while humming.
Returning my focus to the menu, I bite my bottom lip while trying to decide on a meal to satisfy my empty stomach.
“Janelle.” The sound of someone calling my name again pulls me from the menu as I look up to see a familiar face.
“Zurmani?”
“Yes. I thought that was you. When did you get back to town?”
Zurmani Coates and I went to school together and were always friendly anytime we had any dealings.
“I’ve been back a little while now. How are you? How’s Evie?” I ask.
“Girl, that nigga stay riding my ass about something,” Evie walks up saying, looking at Zurmani, without making eye contact with me.
“As you can see… same Evie, different decade,” Zurmani says to me, smiling, which causes Evie to make eye contact with me.
“Oh shit. Hey, Janelle. What’s up with you? Still pretty as ever, I see,” Evie says, smiling.
“Hello, ladies. Why don’t you sit and catch up like normal people,” Ms. Delores suggests with my glass of water in hand.
“Do you mind if we join, Janelle?” Zurmani asks.
“No. Sit. Let’s catch up,” I say, waving my hand toward the empty seat across from me.
Ms. Delores takes Zurmani’s and Eva’s drink orders before leaving the table as the three of us begin catching up. It’s been years since I’ve had an opportunity to have any human conversations outside of the ones Tinker Belle and I have. It feels good to talk and catch up with women without hidden agendas.
“Oh, let me tell you about your ho-ass cousin,” Evie says to me while shaking her head.
“What has she done this time?” I ask.
Without knowing which one of my cousins Evie is talking about, something tells me she’s talking about Tolanda because she is known to stay in some bullshit. It’s why I was so mad at her, playing news reporter with my mother, knowing the stuff she stays in.
“I ain’t ever seen a bolder bitch with so much audacity like Tolanda. First, I saw her eating her friend’s pussy while a nigga fucked her. Mind you, this was leaving Club Stew when the club closed for the night. Then her ho-ass let that nigga and another one of her friend’s man run a train on her in the parking lot of Walmart three days later.”
“What are the odds of seeing the same chick doing dirt?” Zurmani asks with her brows hiking.
“By the grace of God, I didn’t see the Walmart incident firsthand, but there is a video going around social media. There is no mistaking Tolanda and the busted orange wig she thinks is fire,” Evie says.
“Don’t bring God into this foolishness. My man is giving me enough to pray about,” Zurmani says, shaking her head.
“I bet. At least the nigga is fine, though. If his ass were busted, I would throw you over my shoulder and drop your ass off in Mexico like immigration,” Evie says.
“I hate you,” Zurmani says as I laugh at their antics, feeling light for the first time in weeks as an image of Deacon flashes, causing me to shiver.
“I saw that,” Evie says, looking at me suspiciously.
“What?” I ask.
“Who is the nigga that didn’t wait three to five business days to lock your ass down?” Evie asks.
“You don’t even want to know,” I say, not ready to disclose any information, especially since technically I’m single.
“Mm. Sounds scandalous,” Evie says, smirking.
“Not yet… but I hope so,” I say, winking.
Hold on… what the hell am I saying?
Present scene…
“I don’t give a fuck what you say. Your ass ain’t going back home,” Deacon rants, pacing in front of me like a raging bull.
His ugly ass damn near hogtied me before forcing me inside the clubhouse when the police arrived on the chaotic scene. After catching up with Zurmani and Eva, I left full and clearly in a coma because my car brought me to Baxtown Iron with no mental instruction from me. Pulling up to see people moving about with either murderous expressions, attention on injured people, or assessing vehicles had me hesitant to stop. Yet, realizing my best friend was somewhere amid the group of bikers had me stopping. Searching through the throng of people for Tinker Belle had my blood pressure spiking and my chest tightening.
“I’m not sure who the hell you think you are, but my father’s name is?—”
“Fuck what you’re talking about. I ain’t gotta be that nigga to tell your stubborn ass that you will be leaving this damn clubhouse with me. Now, you can come willingly, or I can tie your ass up and strap you to the back of my bike. What’s it gonna be because you don’t have any other options?” Deacon’s temporal vein pulses uncontrollably as his jaw ticks and his eyes darken.
“I’m not a member of Baxtown Iron, and this has nothing to do with me. I want to go home,” I say weakly.
*crash*
Deacon swipes his hand across the bar as glasses and napkins fly everywhere, causing me to jump while taking a step back.
“Talk to your fucking friend, Tinker Belle,” Deacon says, walking toward the back of the clubhouse with Shadow, Gunz, Diesel, and Bulldog following.
My eyes follow Deacon as my chest pinches and tightens with every step he takes away from me. Despite my earlier statement, seeing Deacon’s caramel skin redden while his eyes blank causes me to become anxious. The irrational part of me wants to hug him and tell him that everything is gonna be all right. Yet, the sane part of my brain is screaming for me to abort mission, risk of Deacon stopping me be damned. The urge to hold Deacon while rubbing my hands over his smooth bald head has me blinking to remove the image the thought creates.
“I know you’re used to moving on your own, but shit got real, and Deacon has made it his mission to ensure your safety, Janelle,” Tinker Belle says lowly, forcing me to stop staring in the direction where Deacon went and focus on her.
“I already have a situation I’m running from, and you know this, Tink. Besides, I don’t know Deacon well enough to be forced to stay with him,” I whisper.
“Do you remember the conversation we had because along with your situation, this one…” Tinker Belle’s words trail off, causing me to fill in what she’s not openly saying.
My eyes instantly mist at the reminder of the memory of the staggering message Tinker Belle delivered that caused me to decide to return home.
“Have you ever thought about the pain of me and your parents if that man is successful? He’s been threatening to harm you for a while, and you continue ignoring the shit like he hasn’t already proven himself to be a man of his word.”
“What will change by me returning home? I will only be giving him an advantage,” I say, wiping the irate tears coursing down my face.
“This time, your support will be different. Just come home and let me worry about ensuring you live long enough for God to reverse the devil’s plan concerning you.”
“Look at you trying to be religious,” I say, smiling weakly.
“Whatever. Just bring your ass home, and I got you… I promise.”
“Mhm. He’s who I know without a shadow of a doubt will protect you with his life,” Tinker Belle says after pulling me into her chest when my eyes shift to the back of the clubhouse.
“Fine, but if he hurts me, I’m kicking your ass,” I acquiesce.
“Trust me. The only thing Deacon will hurt is your pussy after he plows his way through the cobwebs you’ve been spinning on your deserted snatch.”
“I hate you,” I whisper, tightening my arms around her body.
Warmth spreads throughout my body at the thought of Deacon punishing my poor pussy, causing my middle to thump in appreciation.
“Not. Deacon!” Tinker Belle says, yelling for the man of the hour, causing my heart to beat erratically when Deacon’s heavy steps sound and his handsome face surfaces.
The fury surrounding Deacon is tangible as his hard eyes, a deep frown, and wrinkles spread on his forehead, and he makes his way to the main part of the clubhouse. Exhaling the air gathering in my tight lungs, I take slow and measured steps toward the glowering man.
“I’m—uh, if you’re ready to go, I’m ready,” I say, assessing Deacon with rapt attention as his eyes clear before he looks heavenward momentarily. A slow smile upturns his lips before his panther-like gait toward me causes me to slowly lick my suddenly dry lips.
“Been ready, Squeak,” Deacon says when there’s only an inch between us.
God, help me. This man is about to wreck more than my willpower.