Swerve Chapter 6 #3
Dozer knew what I wanted, and seeing I was with my brothers, he seemed fine, not even hesitating before he went to the ladies and nudged them with his nose in the direction he wanted them to go. They were praising him as they left us. No one said anything until they were out of earshot.
As soon as they were, Butcher rifled through the guy’s pants and came up with a wallet. He flipped it open and read what I assumed was the asshole’s driver’s license. I knew he’d memorize the information and pass it along to Micro.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“It’s Orlando McKee, according to his driver’s license. He’s local. Do you want to know his age, addie, height, and weight?” Butcher asked. He smirked.
“I don’t give a damn about three of those and the other only if I need to pay him a visit for some reason,” I replied.
A loud moan erupted from McKee. Butcher nudged him with his boot again, only this time it was harder, making the guy jerk and then blink his eyes open. He squinted his gaze at Butcher, then ran his eyes around the circle of us hovering over him. When his gaze met mine, I smirked.
“How was your nap, McKee? Would you like to repeat what you said to me to my club brothers? I’m sure they’ll love to hear what your impression is of our club and what we do here.”
McKee hesitated, then muttered, “Uh, no, I’m good. I see I was wrong. I’ll just leave,” he said.
He sat up, groaning. He rubbed his jaw, then gave me a squinty look. “You have a helluva upper cut, but that chair is unfair. You practically tripped me, and I fell into the punch,” he grumbled.
“If I were you, I’d shut up. I’ve been hit by him before and after he was in the chair. His strength has increased, and he doesn’t need his wheelchair to help him,” Butcher snarled.
McKee pushed with one arm to leverage himself off the floor.
He barely got halfway up before falling back on his ass.
He sat there, shaking his head to clear it.
We watched impassively. None of us would help him up.
At most, we’d drag him out the door. I wanted him out of Wrath’s Recovery. I leaned over him.
“I want to make something very clear, and you need to spread this far and wide. This place isn’t a fucking brothel, and anyone coming here thinking it is or to cause trouble will get worse than you got.
You’re walking away with all your limbs functioning.
However, we’ll be watching, and if you stir rumors or return, you won’t be that fortunate the next time.
I do believe you’ll have a visual reminder for about a week to help sink that message in,” I informed him, smirking.
There was no way he’d get away with this without a few bruises to show for it. I wanted to be the one to administer them, but I needed to make sure the women were alright, and I hated to steal Butcher’s fun. He loved to issue behavior modification therapy, as he called it.
McKee kept his mouth shut. Maybe he thought it would protect him. Wrong. He tried again to get up, and this time he made it to his feet, though he did stagger a few steps before he caught himself.
“I’ll be leaving,” he muttered. As he edged toward the door, Butcher and my other two brothers moved toward it too. McKee froze.
“I can find my way out,” he informed us.
“We know. We’re coming with you. We need to chat. It won’t take long,” Butcher said darkly.
I won’t lie. Watching the blood draining from McKee’s face was satisfying.
I briefly wondered if that made me a bad person, but then I dismissed the thought.
I was a biker. I’d been raised from birth to be one.
No one said I was an angel. I smiled as they lightly pushed a sputtering McKee out the door.
Once they were gone, I didn’t delay moving through the building to find the ladies.
I discovered them in Electra’s office. Dozer was standing at the door, guarding them.
When he saw me and I gave him the signal to be at ease, he ambled over to lie at Electra’s feet.
She glanced from him to the door. She gave me a tiny smile.
“I assume everything has been handled,” she stated.
I nodded. Annette was huddled in a nearby chair, and I saw she’d been crying more.
Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face was tear-stained.
The makeup she had on was a mess. Examining Electra, I noted no signs of her crying.
She appeared calm. It made me wonder what it would take to shake her up.
Why hadn’t she fallen to pieces? A lot of people would.
“My brothers are finishing up for me. I wanted to check in on how you two are doing. Annette, is there anything you need?”
I was a little at a loss for what to do to soothe her.
I was accustomed to tough women, like Paige and Jauhnna, and countless other old ladies, and it seemed Electra was like them.
Putting her in the same category as those women made me think she’d make an incredible old lady.
I pushed the tantalizing thought away. The last thing I needed was to believe that about her.
If she ended up with a brother or a friend, it would kill me.
I fought down my desire for her to be more than an employee—no use dreaming about the impossible. A woman like her deserved a whole man.
“Do you think that man will come back? What if he does? Or what if more show up like him?” Annette’s voice trembled.
“I can’t promise that it won’t occur, but I’d be very shocked if it did.
However, the club will take precautions to ensure your safety.
We’ll have to talk and decide on what that entails around here.
We’ve been lucky that no one did it before if those kinds of rumors are circulating,” I assured her.
“It’s horrible that anyone would say or think those things about this place. I shudder to think what might’ve happened if Dozer hadn’t been here,” Annette moaned.
I caught myself about to tell her to stop with the pitiful routine. I had to remember she was a victim of abuse, and this had to be triggering for her. I came closer and put my hand on her arm, trying to convey comfort.
“Annette, I don’t want you to think that if Swerve or Dozer, or someone from the Horsemen, aren’t here, that you have no protection. I’m always here if they aren’t. I wasn’t about to let that man waltz in here and hurt anyone without a fight,” Electra informed her.
Our receptionist gave Electra a look of disbelief. “What could you do?” Annette asked.
“Plenty,” my work partner said. Annette wasn’t content with her answer.
“What does plenty mean? Would you have hit him? With what?”
“I might’ve hit him or used other self-defense techniques. I could’ve grabbed something and used it as a weapon. Locking you and the others behind the lobby doors is an option. Or I could do other things.”
“Electra, do you come to work armed with weapons?” I asked, wanting to confirm what I suspected after this remark.
“Is there a policy that employees may not? I missed it if there was,” she replied.
“No, there isn’t. You’re not in trouble if you do. I just want to know. The club doesn’t expect our employees to have to protect themselves, but if you’re prepared to do so, we want it to be done safely.”
Electra studied me for a solid thirty seconds before she answered. “What does that mean? How would you know if anyone could do it safely?”
“If you’re thinking of using self-defense moves or a gun, we’d want to see what you can do. Think of it as a demo. We’d ensure that there were moves you should know, maybe even teach them. And if you need instruction or practice on shooting, that’s a possibility.”
Before she could answer, I heard the tread of boots coming down the hallway. Damn, that was quick. I turned my head toward the door. Butcher came striding into the office. I saw his fist was red.
“All taken care of?” I asked.
“Yep. The others will be here in a few minutes. What’s happening back here?” he asked.
“Swerve wants me to show the club that I can defend myself and others. He mentioned a demo of my self-defense skills and if I carry a gun, how well I shoot. I was attempting to assure him and Annette that even if no one else were here, including Dozer, she wouldn’t have been a sitting duck.”
When Electra said his name, Dozer’s head came up. She smiled down at him and ran a hand over his head. He gave her a goofy, adoring doggie smile. I swear, the dog was in love with her. A contemplative expression overtook the enforcer’s face. He mulled over what she said for a minute, then nodded.
“I think that would be a good idea. And I don’t mean just for you.
We should ensure that at any of our locations, if employees are arming themselves or have the inclination to go all kung-fu happy on someone’s ass, they have a solid baseline of expertise.
That’s not to say we want or expect anyone who works for the club to do that.
It’s not what we’re asking or expecting. ”
“How would we do that?” Electra asked.
Annette appeared mortified at the thought. I’d never see her doing anything like fighting back or shooting someone. Not everyone was a fighter. That’s why they had people like the club.
“We could do assessment and training days maybe once a quarter or every six months for any new hires or anyone needing a refresher,” Butcher answered.
I saw the wheels churning in his head. The sound of more feet told me we were about to have company. Lucky and Punk popped up moments later. They walked into the office. Butcher had moved inside as we talked. They seemed relaxed, so clearly they got McKee on his way.
“What’d we miss?” Lucky asked.
“We’re talking about training,” Butcher replied, then told them the backstory. When he was done, Punk glanced over at Electra.
“So, are you packing heat, sweet thing? Do we have to pat you down to make sure you don’t accidentally hurt us?” He winked at her.
I had to bite my tongue to keep my growl of displeasure from escaping. Instead, I tried to catch his eye and give him the death glare, but he wasn’t looking my way. I vowed to have a word with him later.
Electra visually gave him the once-over, then shook her head. “I’m always armed. And I can assure you, I know how to use it and more. There’s no need to pat me down, unless you want to find yourself on the floor, sweet thing,” she retorted with a bite to her tone.
Annette sat there with her mouth hanging open, wearing a dumbfounded expression.
Electra’s comeback didn’t anger Punk. It made him laugh, along with Butcher and Lucky. I gave a slight smirk, then frowned. What it did was increase the twinkle in Punk’s gaze. She was intriguing him.
“When should we bring this up, Butcher? Do you think Diablo and the other officers will mind us considering this?” Lucky asked.
“We have church on Monday. We’ll do it then. However, I’ll put a bug in Diablo’s ear before then. I don’t believe he’ll have a problem with it, but we’ll see. I assume you got rid of the unwanted visitor,” he directed to them.
“We sure did. He was able to drive, but he wasn’t feeling too good when he left.” Punk chuckled.
Before more was said, the phone on Electra’s desk rang. She moved away from Annette. “Excuse me, I need to get that.”
“Let’s let her get back to work. Annette, are you ready to return to the front, or do you need more time?” I asked.
She came to her feet a tad shakily. “I’ll be right there. I need to use the bathroom first.”
“Take your time. I’m here until closing, so no worries,” I informed her.
As we left Electra’s office, I gave her one more look.
She was talking softly into the phone. She smiled and waved at me.
I returned them, then reluctantly went to see my brothers out and get my ass to work.
It was close to quitting time. I’d make sure the women got to their vehicles safely, then I’d head home.
My enjoyment from the day had dimmed due to McKee’s stupidity.
However, I refused to let a cretin like that ruin it for good.