Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
FREAK
“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” I corner Trixie in the kitchen, after Toni’s said her goodbyes for the night and has left, and I’d taken Ace back to his grandmother’s, having to listen to him gushing about his aunt the entire way.
“You’re a club fuckin’ girl, not an ol’ lady.
You’re nothing to this club, yet you insinuated yourself between my son and his aunt, and told her things she might be better off not knowing. ”
She should be scared, yet she stands her ground. “Didn’t you notice her reaction, Freak? When I alluded to that TV series, and said the Kings were worse?”
Trying to remember, I don’t hit women - well, only the once, but that was unintentional, I clench my hands to prevent them from shaking her. “She had no reaction.”
She looks at me quizzically. “Didn’t you think that was odd?”
“No,” I snarl. “She probably thought you were exaggerating. And you came fuckin’ close to telling her club business, that even you shouldn’t even know.”
Instead of stepping down, she gets up in my face. “I don’t like her, Freak. There’s something there that we’re missing.”
“We?” I bellow. “We?” Incensed, I repeat myself. “When the fuck was it a whore’s business to get in between a member and his family? You’re a fuckin’ cum dumpster. Nothing more. You don’t interfere, you got it?”
Her face goes tight. “Yeah, I got it, Freak. I’ll stay the fuck away from your cosy little family.”
I stare at her for a moment, testing her sincerity. But as she doesn’t say anything else, I think she’s understood.
When I exit the kitchen, Bullseye and Saint are deep in conversation by the bar. When Prez sees me, he crooks his finger, so I walk over to join them.
“So how did it go with the woman?”
Raising my chin to Saint, I tell them, “Pippa did a deep dive on her, once she had her place of residence and her job.” I chuckle softly. “She’s a fuckin’ librarian. Have to laugh, but that was my first thought once I saw how she was dressed.”
“And how was she with the kid?”
“Great,” I answer my prez. “They clicked immediately. She didn’t talk down to him, and he even got her playing his games. He let her win.”
“Obviously.” Saint smirks. “Not even you can beat him.”
I give him a sideways look. Sometimes I do. Not often, I’ll admit. “Have to say I couldn’t find a damn thing wrong with her, even though I was on the lookout.” I don’t mention Trixie’s warning. What does she know? She’s only a whore.
“She’s a fine-looking woman,” Saint informs Bullseye. Then, to me, he asks, “She really look like your ex?”
“If I imagine Josie a few years older, then it’s like looking at a fuckin’ mirror image.
But that’s where the resemblance stops. Character-wise, they couldn’t be more different.
Even if you leave her bipolar disorder aside, there was an edge to Josie, something I was beginning to dislike.
I can’t really put my finger on it, perhaps insincerity?
Like she was going through the motions, probably to keep a man like me in her life.
” I shake my head. “Didn’t get that vibe from Toni. ”
“But you didn’t at first with Josie,” Prez points out.
“True,” I admit. “But then I was blinded by lust.”
Saint turns to place his empty bottle on the bar, then sits his ass on a stool. “If they look so alike, she got the same assets that attracted you to her twin?”
It’s my turn to smirk. “I wouldn’t kick her out of bed.
But she’s much more refined than Josie, who was upfront about her wants.
I didn’t have to work hard to get her naked.
She had her clothes off before I asked. Toni?
I suspect she’d be different. She’s quite reserved.
” I grin. “She was completely unaware that most of the brothers were assessing her like a piece of meat. Acted no differently, didn’t preen or flirt. ”
“She sticking around?”
Addressing Saint who’d asked, I respond, “She’s got a leave of absence from her job for another five days. She’s got to get back to Flagstaff after that.”
“I take it, Ace likes her?”
Fixing my gaze on Prez, I shake my head. “Like? Fuckin’ adores her is more accurate. He couldn’t stop going on about her when I drove him back to Ma’s. I should have taken the bike. Then I wouldn’t have had to listen to him talking my ear off, extolling her merits.”
“Must be nice for the boy to find he has another relative.” While speaking, Saint raps the bar to get the attention of Dum/Dee. “Want a beer, Freak?”
I nod my agreement. “He’s never asked much about his mom, and I didn’t exactly want to tell him the details.
I thought I’d gotten away with it, to be honest. When he first did, I just told him she’d died.
But he’s obviously been curious, as evidenced by that DNA fuckin’ debacle.
I obviously hadn’t handled it as well as I thought. ”
“Boy’s of an age to question where he’s from,” Saint says, rubbing his finger against his cheek. “And especially a kid like Ace.”
“Yeah,” Prez states innocently. “With a father like Freak, he’s probably wondering where his intelligence came from.”
After showing him my middle finger, I take my beer with a raise of my chin toward Saint. Then I turn my back on them and survey the room.
Sweetie is sucking Words off in the corner, and Star is sitting on Rattler’s lap.
Heaven, though, she’s sitting by herself reading a book.
It’s the latter I head over to. Trixie’s nowhere in sight.
Thank fuck. Even if we hadn’t had that argument earlier, she’s not my normal go-to when I want a club girl.
Been there, done that. Wasn’t very impressed.
Yeah, I’m a fucking liar. Nevertheless, I’d tapped her ass just the once, and I hadn’t been back.
I approach Heaven. “Can I offer you something better than that crap you’re reading?
” Grinning, she shows me the cover of her book, and hell if it’s not got a suggestive picture of a biker and a scantily clad woman on it.
I snort. “You reading fuckin’ motorcycle club romance?
” When she smirks, I continue, “Why fantasise when you can have the real thing?” I palm my cock so there’s no mistaking my meaning.
She replaces my hand with her own. “You think you can live up to my fictional boyfriend?”
“Hell, darlin’, I can leave him in the dust, as well you know.
” It won’t be the first time Heaven’s graced my bed, for a couple of hours, never the whole night.
Always kick the girls out after I’ve finished with them.
I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding and certainly don’t want them to be catching feelings.
I use them for what they’re there for when, like tonight, I’ve got an itch.
She gives my cock a gentle squeeze. “Well, no one’s ever done the things this biker has.” Her free hand lifts up the book to emphasise her meaning.
“Then come with me, and I’ll show you. And bring the book with you. Maybe there’s a scene we can act out.”
Her tongue licks her lips, and she needs no further encouragement to get moving. Carrying the novel, she skips up the stairs in front of me. I follow more slowly, enjoying the sight of her ass cheeks bouncing as she mounts each step.
An hour later, I’m exhausted and convinced I’ve put my back out.
She’s laughing hysterically, but certainly can’t complain she’s not satisfied.
I’m not sure where the author of that book she brought to my bed got her ideas from.
But I’m certain I needed another hand, or even another dick, to get into some of the sexual positions.
But we’d had fun, even I would be the first to admit that.
What I don’t want to own up to is when I closed my eyes, I saw Toni beneath me, and it was her voice I heard gasping my name.
I’d come hardest when I’d mentally replaced Heaven for Ace’s aunt.
Yeah, that’s something I’ll keep to myself.
Ace would be horrified if he had any notion of the improprieties swirling around my brain.
After Heaven leaves, I take a quick shower, then lie on my bed, which still smells of sex, mentally noting to get the prospects to change my sheets tomorrow.
Wondering whether I’m getting old, instead of returning to the clubroom, I admit defeat and let my body’s exhaustion take over, switch off the light, close my eyes, and without even knowing it, I fall asleep.
I awake to an, as expected, sunny Arizona morning. It’s Monday, so Ace has got school, and while we’ve made arrangements to meet Toni for dinner later, there’s nothing to interrupt my normal day.
While, as a senior officer, I’m technically the manager of Royals, our strip joint.
But as I’m the enforcer and have other demands from the club, Stalker, our treasurer, acts in that capacity when I’m not around.
I do check in regularly to make sure everything’s running smoothly.
After a breakfast served by a, to me anyway, sullen Trixie, I take my bike and head that way.
A strip club by day is a sorry sight. Harsh overhead lighting brings, what, at nighttime, is a sultry atmosphere, into sharp, not very flattering relief.
The colours, which under subtle lighting are alluring, look tired and jaded under the harsh light of day.
In the centre of the area are tables and chairs, and around the sides are booths with padded seating, which I don’t want to inspect too closely.
The stench of disinfectant, mixed with lingering perfume, stale beer, and sex, hangs in the air, and around me, cleaners are busy cleaning.
The stage, though, isn’t empty. Some of the strippers are practising their routines.
And the man I’ve come to see, Stalker, is in the middle of them, demonstrating moves on the pole that I’d never have believed, had I not been previously subjected to his antics around the one installed in the clubhouse.