Chapter 5
Chapter Five
No Snow Ski Trip
S lade took a seat at the bar, right next to Nova.
“He told you to watch me, huh?” Nova asked without looking up from her coffee.
“He loves you, sweetheart. We all do.”
Nova looked at Slade. Her eyes were sweet, tender, fighting the battle between an old life and this new one.
“You’re a badass,” Slade said.
“I don’t need to hear any of that.”
Maggie rushed over to Slade, coffee cup in one hand, coffee pot in the other.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Slade said with a grin.
It was hard to look at Maggie and not smile. Her perky tits, never a bra, and this morning’s tank top clinging so tight that her one nipple piercing was more than obvious.
Memories bubbled in the back of Slade’s mind. He could hear the sound of his teeth playfully biting and tugging at Maggie’s nipple piercing. Making her squirm and giggle, then finally cry out.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Slade winked at Maggie.
He nodded for her to go away. She listened. Slade sipped his coffee, black.
“Look, if there’s anything I can do for you, Nova,” Slade said. “Maybe we can just forget about the tiptoe nice shit for a second.”
“How are you going to stop bullets from constantly flying around?” Nova asked.
“I’m not. That’ll never happen. That’s part of this world. I’m pretty sure you know that though.”
“Fair enough, Slade,” Nova said. She turned toward him. “We were on a date, just eating pizza. Nothing fancy. Not being something we weren’t. Maybe in my head I was pretending it was the way things used to be. And you know what? I saw it.”
“Saw what, sweetheart?”
“I saw the bullets hit her. That waitress. She didn’t know what to do. She kind of just froze. She looked forward and just… what was it? Panic? Shock? Did she know who it was?”
Slade swallowed hard.
Fucking hell, Nova.
“These small explosions across her chest,” Nova went on. “I thought about running to try and save her but I didn’t want to take a bullet to the back. And Linc held me so tight anyway.”
“Jesus Christ,” Slade said. “You’re not fucked up in the head over it. You’re trying to figure it out like the rest of us.”
Nova laughed in a very loud, sarcastic tone. She stood up and pushed her coffee cup away.
“I don’t need outlaw therapy to survive in this world, Slade. I just need to know the same as the rest of you.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning… who the fuck is the actual enemy?”
If it were possible and Slade had the power, he’d give Nova a leather cut right then and there along with the keys to a Harley. And let her ride the open road. She walked away and before Slade could gather up his thoughts, Fitz sat down where Nova had just been. He reached for her coffee cup, took a sip, then shook his head in disgust.
“Fucking women and sugar in their coffee,” Fitz growled. “What the fuck is that?”
Fitz gave out a quick whistle and Maggie turned her head.
Maggie felt nothing short of disgust at the way Fitz looked at her and whistled and winked. She thought he was a pig. All the bikers were pigs in their own way, but Fitz was just… ew.
Even still, Maggie knew her place.
Behind the bar, in the clubhouse, on her back, on her hands and knees, whatever position was commanded of her, she was a deecee . Until she wore the ink of one of these outlaws, they were all in control. At all times.
She slapped a smile on her face, grabbed a fresh pot of coffee and a fresh cup and hopped playfully toward Fitz, knowing he liked when her little tits bounced for him.
Slade watched this entire ordeal happen. It was just a few seconds of time. No judgement passed. Maggie was cute and fun.
“Hey, I have an idea,” Fitz said as Maggie poured him some coffee. “Ever been skiing?”
“Skiing?” Maggie asked. “Like in the snow?”
Fitz let out a laugh. “No snow around here, Maggie. But you can practice. Got to know how to work those ski poles, right?”
Slade lifted an eyebrow. “What the hell are you talking about, Fitz?”
Fitz held out his two hands, made fists, and began to pump them up and down.
“Are you working out?” Slade asked, which made Maggie giggle.
Fitz stopped and curled his lip. “No. I’m showing Maggie what to do. It’s called ski poles . She takes my cock with one hand. She takes your cock, Slade, with the other. She jerks us off at the same time. Ski poles …”
“What would your wife think of that?" Maggie asked.
The second the question flew from her mouth she knew she was going to get hurt. And she deserved it too. You never mouth off to one of the outlaws. Especially one of the main guys who goes into the room for what they all call prayer .
Maggie was in an awful mood today. Just life bothering her. Slade had sensed that. Plus he sensed Maggie’s pure disgust for Fitz. As much as Slade wanted to know what made Maggie feel that way, it wasn’t his business.
But the wife comment… Shit , Slade thought to himself.
Fitz’s face instantly twisted with anger.
“Did you just ask something about my fucking wife?” Fitz growled. “Like that’s any of your fucking business. You’ll never get someone to ink you up. With your high miles, I can hear your pussy lips clapping as you walk. Now take your fucking shirt off and show off your little tits.”
“Fitz,” Slade said. “I’m trying to enjoy a cup of coffee and think.”
“Fuck off, Slade,” Fitz spat.
Slade’s jaw flexed. Maggie looked at Slade and her eyes were apologetic and begging.
“I’m going to bite that little bitty titty piercing right off you,” Fitz said. “And you’re not going to stop me. I don’t care how much it hurts or how much it bleeds. Now take your fucking shirt off!”
It wasn’t anyone’s job to get involved with an issue with a deecee . They were present to be used up and spit the fuck out the back of the clubhouse. The lucky ones were helped into getting jobs at strip clubs or shuffled off to the other charters to be used up some more. A few here and there may have gotten their ink which meant protection.
For poor Maggie, she was out on a tiny island with no help. She knew it too. Her jaw quivered as she lifted her shirt. Slade sipped his coffee while Fitz leaned almost halfway over the bar. There was some rage in the man’s eyes, that was for sure.
Bringing up his wife… bad move. Mara was a tough, cool woman. Not that it mattered in this context. The unwritten outlaw rules were followed by everyone, wives included. Anyone crazy enough to marry an outlaw meant knowing you’d be sharing his cock with others. It was his heart you wanted if you could find it. His heart and his protection.
Maggie had her shirt up to her chin. Her small, perky tits were just there . The little silver bar stuck through her nipple. Fitz looked ready to pounce. Technically he had every right to do so. Slade just wasn’t in the mood to watch some deecee get her nipple ripped from her chest.
“Fitz,” Slade said. “We’ve got a protection gig tonight for a band. That one sister is going to be there. The groupie. I told Cyrus I’m taking the gig. I want you there with me.”
Just like that, Fitz tuned his head and looked at Slade. “We never do those.”
“We do tonight,” Slade said. “There’s something in it for all of us. Tell this mouthy deecee to go fuck off so we can talk logistics without her listening.” Slade leaned toward Fitz. “Save the rage for later or something. Maggie is mouthy but without her around here, we’re screwed.”
“She deserves a crack to the mouth at least,” Fitz said.
“Come here, cunt,” Slade suddenly growled at Maggie.
She side stepped, still holding her shirt up. Slade lunged at the bar and threw his left hand at Maggie. He was not going to hit her, just needed to scare her a little.
Slade grabbed Maggie’s jaw. He squeezed tight but not super tight. He winked at her with his left eye.
“You ever talk about one of the wives again and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out. I’ll feed it to Priest. He’ll eat it. Do you understand me?”
Maggie nodded. Her eyes moved to the left, looking at Fitz. “I’m so sorry, Fitz. I should have never said that.”
“Look at me, cunt,” Slade said. “Look at me, not at Fitz. I’m the one saving you from him gnawing that pretty nipple piercing right off your chest. And I’m doing that because I know how good your throat feels when my cock slides down it.”
“How about them ski poles, Slade?” Fitz asked. “She can use a handful of cum, don’t you think?”
“Maybe some other time,” Slade said. “We have bigger things to deal with than some useless deecee cunt.”
Slade pushed at Maggie’s face and she stumbled back. Her cheeks blushed bright red and her eyes filled with tears. Yeah, somewhere inside Slade’s outlaw chest he felt something like emotion toward Maggie. But it was far better than watching someone like Fitz bite her nipple off.
“Come on, Fitz,” Slade said. “We need to meet up with Cyrus and Linc and finalize plans for tonight.”
Before walking away, Fitz pushed the coffee cups off the bar with purpose, making sure they not only spilled, but they hit the floor and broke. Leaving Maggie with a mess to clean up.
But, hey, at least she still had her perky tits, both nipples, and her cute, little piercing… right?