6. April
6
April
M y hands and nerves had not stopped shaking since I left the bank. Even if the thieves were too foolish to shoot one of us, the gun could have gone off by accident. I could have been killed. Worse yet, Ethan Towles could have been shot and died at my feet. It was all the more reason to leave Paul. Why? Because you never know when life came to an end.
Jasmine sat on the couch and tucked her feet beneath her ass. “You’re in love with this man. I get it. I really do. He filled the room with more manliness than a sporting goods store.”
“Damn straight I am, and I feel foolish for acting like I’m back in high school, swooning over the school’s star quarterback.” I filled my glass with wine and sat across from Jasmine. “One of those assholes actually had a gun pointed at my chest.”
“Amanda called on the way over here. She said Ethan Towles called to make a follow-up appointment with you. He also asked if you were okay.”
“I’ve yet to convince myself that someone like him would want someone like me.” I cringed and said, “I looked up his medical records. I’m ten years older than him.” I swirled the wine in my glass. “Why would he go after old pussy with all the young pussy chasing him around town?”
“You’re not old, April.” Jasmine got up and filled her wine glass. “Since we’re the same age, that would mean I’m old, too. No, thank you. You’re a beautiful, sexy woman. I’m sure he recognizes that.”
“I acted like a fool.” I walked around the living room and stopped at the front window. “What the fuck?” Jasmine got up and joined me. “What’s he doing here?”
The front door opened, and Paul walked inside. “What?” he said. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I thought you wouldn’t be home until Friday,” I said.
Paul suspiciously eyed Jasmine. He didn’t like her and the influence he thought she had over me. Basically, he was jealous of her. “I was worried about you. Looks like I was right.”
Paul had never been worried about me in the past. “How’s work been?”
“I’m going to be on my way,” Jasmine said. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
“You won’t,” Paul said. “I told Bob you wouldn’t be back,” he told me. “My understanding is that the clientèle has become too dangerous.”
“You can’t do that,” I said. “That’s my livelihood. That’s what I wanted to do with myself.”
“You have everything you need right here, April. There’s no reason for you to work.” He motioned Jasmine away with his hand. “I don’t expect to see you in my house again. ”
“Damnit, Paul. Jasmine’s my friend. Don’t treat her like that! You’re such an asshole.”
Paul stopped what he was doing and glared. Not once in our marriage had I ever called him a name.
“She needs to leave before I call the police.” Paul walked away.
“We’ll talk,” Jasmine said to me and stopped on her way to the front door. Paul came out from the back hallway and followed Jasmine. “Fuck you, Paul. You ancient piece of shit.”
Paul opened the door. “Get out.”
“Paul!”
He closed the door and returned to the living room. “Heck, I’m willing to forgive what just happened if you explain what is going on.”
“You are, Paul. You don’t even know how to get mad about something.” I drank from the wine bottle, and Paul’s eyes widened. “Who the fuck says heck anymore?”
“Watch your language, Ma Cherie.” He tried to hold my chin, but I knocked his hand away.
“Don’t touch me and quit fucking calling me that!” I walked away and went to the kitchen. Paul followed, face as red as the red pen he used to make stock notes. “Why couldn’t you stay gone?”
“That’s enough, April.” He removed his tie and rolled his sleeves. “I’m going to my office.” He lowered his zipper and narrowed his eyes. Asshole. Paul walked away but motioned with his hand for me to follow.
I sat the wine bottle on the counter and cleared my tight throat. I wished Ethan were in the room. Against everything I’d been taught in school and believed, I wanted to see the god-like biker punch Paul in his face.
Paul sat in his leather chair, moving back and forth. From where I stood, I could see he’d taken his cock out. The pathetic albino-looking worm was still limp. Calmly, he said, “I need you to service me the way you always want to do.” He flopped his limp cock back and forth. “Ma cherie.”
Once again, he wanted me to do all the work and reap none of the rewards. “Okay, Paul,” I said. “Like I always want to do?”
“Yes, ma cherie.” I imagined sticking a pencil in his eye if he repeated those two words.
“My back has been bothering me lately. Do you mind standing?”
Paul tilted his head. He wasn’t used to such a request. He stood, his hand around his cock, and let the five inches lay on the desk.
I stepped forward and reached across the desk, stroking his dick. Like always, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The asshole never looked at me when I pleased him. With Paul’s eyes closed, my thumb and forefinger creating a circle to fuck his dick, I spied everything on the desk: a calendar, Scotch Tape, a shitty picture, and a stapler.
I worked harder on Paul’s cock and let my fingers crawl across the desk to the stapler. Using one hand, I eased the stapler apart and then gently laid the mouth of the stapler against his wrinkled shaft.
“I fucking hate you, Paul,” I said and slammed my hand on the stapler.
I jumped back when Paul screamed and grabbed his dick. Two pinpricks of blood appeared on his skin, and then the blood flowed freely.
“You fucking cunt,” he yelled and came around the desk, arms reaching out, hands bloody. Put a bolt on either side of his neck, and he looked like Frankenstein’s monster.
I remembered the move Ethan made against the guy holding the gun. I knocked Paul’s right arm toward his left and hit him with a right hook. Damn, it felt good to do it finally .
Paul fell back onto his desk. I expected him to come at me. He didn’t. He grabbed his cell phone and called 911. He screamed that his wife had maimed his dick with a stapler. I imagined the 911 operator covering her mouth and laughing.
“You fucking asshole,” I said. “You got what you deserved.
He looked at me, crosseyed, in total shock that little old April had grown balls bigger than his two little grapes.
He told the operator he needed both the police and an ambulance. “You’re going to fucking pay for this.” The dumb ass grabbed a wet wipe from his desk and tried to clean his bloodied cock. He screamed and plopped into the chair. It was an alcohol wipe to clean his keyboard.
I went to the front door and left the house. I sat on the porch steps and waited for the police. Paul was a pussy. He hid behind the word businessman. It made him sound important to himself. In reality, Paul wasn’t a man at all. He was just another male who needed his mommy to wipe his ass and clean up after him.
“I’ll make you pay, April!” he yelled from the house. “You’ll be sorry.”
“I was sorry a long time ago, asshole.”
The ambulance arrived first, and I scooted to the side so they could hurry past. Paul’s little dick would be fine. The staples were small. I giggled at the thought one of the male EMTs who entered the house would have to bandage Paul’s dick. Maybe he had one of those pinky Band-Aids my mother used when I was a little girl.
Paul screamed and cursed my name, sounding like a pharaoh wanting to erase my name and existence from Pine Bluff history. All hail to motherfucking Paul!
Two sheriff’s cars pulled to the curb. Sheriff Manning jumped out of the first cruiser. He immediately recognized me .
“You stapled Paul’s dick?” Manning asked. “Must have been some anger management session with Ethan Towles.” He took the cuffs off his hip. “Stand up.”
Paul exited the house as I stood. He held a bandage around his dick. “Don’t you fucking be here when I get home,” he said. “We’re done!”
“Fuck off, Paul.” Once you stood up for yourself, it was hard to stop.
Manning stepped around and pulled my hands behind my back. I watched Paul with sorrowful eyes. He would never change. Over the top possessive, the next woman in his life would follow in my footsteps. Obedience with Paul only went in one direction.
“That was a stupid thing to do,” Manning said. He walked me to the cruiser with his small hand around my arm.
“I guess he’s not as dickless as I thought,” I said. I laughed at myself. I wasn’t much of a badass and realized I was in way over my head. “Is what they say about men with small hands true?”
“Get in the fucking car.” Manning opened the door and shoved me inside.
Less than a mile away from county, a group of bikers pulled next to us at a stoplight. Ethan leaned forward and stared at me. I shrugged, and Manning pulled away when the light turned green.
“Dammit,” Manning said. He adjusted the rear-view mirror. “Looks like those assholes are coming to your rescue. Maybe I’ll stick them in a cell with you and turn the lights out.”
“Is that a promise?” Trying to scare me with the thought of multiple bikers in a cell alone with me? Foolish man.
I heard the bikes behind us when we pulled into the parking lot. Manning jumped right out, bikers be damned and ushered me inside. I could hear Ethan calling Manning's name. We went through the lobby and straight to a cell .
“I’ll have someone come get you out,” Ethan yelled.
“Expect to spend the night.” Manning locked the cell door. He was another man afraid of a free woman, doing the same thing Paul had done for the past ten years. “I should throw away the key.”
I said nothing because saying something would make him think I cared what he thought. I didn’t. Those days were over—no more clipped wings.
I lay on the cot and could swear I smelled Ethan. It pissed me off that Bob had called Paul to squeal like a child. I didn’t doubt that had been Bob’s plan all along. Stick me with his appointment with Ethan, then tell Paul I’d somehow fallen for biker trash. I giggled because Bob was correct.
Desperate to get away from Paul and the box he’d placed me in, I did the first thing that came to mind—I stapled his dick. I sat up on the cot and began laughing. Tears filled my eyes.
“You want to let me in on the joke?”
The man wore an expensive suit and silk tie. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him.
“Jeremy Waters,” the man said. “Attorney Jeremy Waters. Ethan Towles asked me to come down and get you out.” He glanced back at the exit. “Stapling a man’s dick? That’s some fucked up shit. We can probably claim self-defense and give you an A for creativity.”
“Probably not self-defense,” I said shyly. “I did it hoping he’d divorce me. Seemed like the easiest way out. I wanted to get his attention.”
“Did it work?” He sat his briefcase on the floor and handed me a card.
“I’m pretty sure it did.” I moved closer and recognized him. “You’re the mayor's brother. ”
“Guilty.”
“He’s a bastard,” I said. “I used to think he and Paul were fucking each other.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” He picked up the briefcase. “I’m going to post bail and get you the fuck out of here. Towles asked me to tell you he canceled his appointment at your office tomorrow. Said he’d be in touch. Also suggested you take anger management classes.”
“He’s going to kill the men who killed his parents,” I said. “Hope you can defend him.”
Waters nodded as if Ethan was doing so naturally. “I’ve worked with the club long enough never to ask why. Just be prepared for the next time I have to defend one of the members.”
“You don’t think they’re a bunch of assholes?”
“I know they’re a bunch of assholes. I also know they’ve done a lot for the community that tolerates them.” He thought about something momentarily and grasped a bar, serious eyes on mine. “The club has helped me in ways nobody else would. They’re good guys, though few claim they are. Whichever one you’re after, treat him well, and he’ll treat you well.” Waters left before I could form a reply.
I needed to be careful with the word love. I thought what Paul and I had was love. It wasn’t. I didn’t want a man who wanted an obedient wife. I needed a man who wanted a wife with attitude and the desire to think for herself.
Deputy Barkley came to the cell and unlocked the door. He tried to look down my shirt as I passed. He then followed behind as I entered the lobby and left with Waters. I hoped to see Ethan. That hope turned into disappointment.
“Ethan said you could stay at the club tonight if you want. He said talk to Trixie when you got there, and she’d show you to his room.” Waters had an evil grin on his face. “Once you enter that building, you’ll be forever changed, April. It’ll be hard to go back to the life you had.”
I scoffed at the idea of going back to Paul. “I don’t have that life anymore, Mr. Waters. I don’t have much of a choice here. Ten years ago, I put all my eggs in one basket, and now they’re all fucking cracked. But thank you.”
We walked to Waters’ car and left county, fifteen minutes later pulling into the Brothers of Chaos empty parking lot. A woman sitting on a picnic table stood and approached the car. I got out, and Waters pulled away.
“They call me Skittles,” the woman said. “Beast, the club president gave me the name. You must be April Summers.” I think she noticed the terror on my face. “Only believe half the shit you’ve heard about us. The other half might be true, but I wouldn’t give it much thought.”
“You know Ethan?” I asked.
“I do. He asked that I help make you feel at home. Let’s go inside, and I’ll show you around.”
“Wait. How long have you been doing this?” I asked.
“Long enough to know I wouldn’t do anything else.” Skittles led me inside.
Although I had limited knowledge of biker life, nothing about what I saw inside surprised me.
Two women moved from stools by the bar. A third woman stayed behind the bar washing glasses. She had a face that couldn’t be trusted. Two pool tables sat directly in front of me, and three couches were along the wall to the right. The place was cleaner than I thought it would be.
“Gigi,” one of the approaching women said. She had golden, flowing blond hair and perfect skin. Her clothes were rich, and her accent educated. Nothing about her suggested she should belong to a biker club. She extended her hand, and we shook.
“I’m Wendy,” the other woman said, a forced smile crossing her lips. Despite not knowing me, she didn’t like me one bit.
Skittles pointed at the woman behind the bar. “That’s Trixie,” she said, whispering, “She’s an FBI informant. Think’s the club killed her sister.”
“It’s nice to meet all of you. Unfortunately, I don’t have clothes or anything else with me.”
“Not a problem,” Gigi said. “Enough girls stay here that we can round up everything you need. I’ll see what I can find. Towles probably has all the toiletries you need.”
I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that. It made it sound like I was just another one of his booty calls.
Skittles hooked her arm around mine, and with a gigantic backpack full of trepidation, I followed along. Skittles opened a door, and we stepped in. My brain tried to tell my eyes they were really seeing what they thought they were seeing. In less than twelve hours, I’d gone from 4,ooo square feet of high-class living to 300 square feet of biker sub-standard living. I fought the idea I had made a huge mistake.
“It’s a lot to take in,” Skittles said. “A lot of the old ladies have given up a perceived better life for something that excited their soul and gave them a reason to wake up every morning. On the surface, it doesn’t look great. You stay with Ethan and never regret your decision to come here. I don’t.”
I nodded. No turning back. I was in the lion’s den and planned to stay there.
“Skittles,” Trixie said, entering the room. Her jeans were so tight that they created a gap between her legs that she could drive a car through. “A man outside says he’s here to get April. ”
“Fuck.” I crossed my arms. I didn’t want ever to see Paul again. “I think it’s my husband.”
Skittles grabbed my arm as I started to leave. “You don’t have to go out there.”
“I’m okay. He needs to know how much I dislike him.” Skittles released my arm, and all three women followed me outside. They stood close as Paul approached.
“I want to apologize for treating you as I did today,” he said. He held out his arms as if I should run to them, but I didn’t.
“Paul,” I said calmly. “You need to apologize for the past ten years and how you’ve treated me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He put his hands on his hips, looking genuinely confused. As much as he had his head up his ass, he should have been a brunette.
“You narcissistic asshole.” I poked him in the chest. “I let you trick me into believing I mattered to you. I was nothing but an ornament on your tree of life. Leave, Paul. I don’t want you here or in my life.”
“You don’t tell me what to do, ma cherie.” He pointed at the car. “Get in the car.”
“Fuck you, Paul. This is over.”
Paul stepped forward, and the three ladies behind me stepped up. He sized them up and thought better of continuing. His hands, originally in fists, relaxed. “I’m meeting with Judge McKinley in the morning. The divorce papers will be on whatever doorstep you decide to be behind. It won’t be mine. Don’t come back. I’ll have all your shit dropped here.” Paul returned to his car and drove away.
“Beast is going to be super pissed when he finds out that man showed up here,” Gigi said.
“Paul and McKinley are old school buddies. Paul helped McKinley get the bench he’s on,” I said. “At least it will be a quick divorce. ”
“Then Beast needs to know,” Skittles said. “You better believe they’ll be after the club now.”
We returned to the building, and Skittles and I walked down the hall to Ethan’s room. She closed the door behind us.
“What will Beast do?” I asked. Paul needed a good ass-kicking. Too many men hid behind power and money. I was learning the only way to even the score for those who don’t have much is through violence. Yeah, I had changed. I condoned it now.
“He will circumvent the system and get at Paul. Nobody, including McKinley, walks onto club property, throwing around orders like he owns the place.” She pointed at the bathroom. “Feel free to take a shower. I’ll be back in a few minutes with clean clothes. Towels are in the closet.”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done,” I said. I entered the bathroom, closed the door, and started the shower. Naked, I stepped into the shower and squatted in the corner. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I’d fucked up like never before.