Chapter 19
Hellfire
Iwas beginning to doubt myself. I'd been watching Pixie for a few days and she hadn't done anything remotely suspicious. Still, my gut was telling me she was up to no good. Sighing, I got out of bed as carefully as I could. That wasn't easy to do when you weighed as much as I did.
As soon as I rolled, Kit's body shifted toward me as the mattress compressed. Reaching out a hand, I stilled her body while I slipped off the bed. I got dressed in the dark before closing the bathroom door so I could piss and brush my teeth before I needed to leave for work.
Stepping back into the bedroom, I allowed my eyes to adjust to the darkness once more before I bent over Kit and tucked the blankets back in around her.
I left the apartment and made my way through the quiet clubhouse.
It was four in the morning, so no one was awake yet.
The sky outside was still dark as I drove my bike toward my parent's place.
"Finally," Dad said as I pulled up and parked my bike near his truck in front of their house.
"I'm not late," I told him with a laugh.
"No. I mean I finally have you back. I swear to Christ those idiot brothers of mine caused more chaos than not.
" There was a grin on his face and I knew for a fact, thanks to Mom, he and his brothers had been having a blast while they visited.
Our family was close. The fact that my uncles had moved away from Tucson had been a shock at first, but they came back every few months.
They and their families spent the last couple months here and I'd enjoyed seeing them all again. It was time to get back to work though.
"You ready?"
"Yep." I stretched out my shoulders, preparing for the day ahead.
He led the way into the shop and we got straight to work. It was nice having him back at my side. He'd taught me everything I knew about septic tanks. Well, everything I knew about plumbing in general. It wasn't until I joined the Army that I learned about fixing helicopters and other things.
I set up the pump truck I liked to use, getting everything put into place.
The clipboard Mom outfitted with all my calls was waiting there on my seat along with a packed lunch.
It made me grin. Kit had packed me a lunch last night as well, but I hadn't told my parents yet that she and I were together. So Mom was doing what Mom always did, taking care of her boys. She was going to be fucking thrilled once she found out Kit and I were dating. If I said anything now, she’d be berating me for details all day and I’d never get any work done. I’d wait until later to tell her.
I brought Kit and Smoke home often for dinners and family get-togethers.
I swore my family liked Kit more than they did me.
Not really, but if it was true it wouldn't bother me in the least. With my girl on my mind, I climbed up into my truck, waved to my dad, then pulled out of the garage to begin my day.
Hours later, I was wiping sweat off my forehead with my forearm.
I glared at the ground that was refusing to give way, then up at the sun that was beating down on me while I worked.
This was my last call of the day and I was currently digging out the septic tank for an eighty-year-old woman who needed it pumped.
People could save money by digging down themselves until all I had to do was open up the tank.
There was no way this lady was digging through the caliche mud and I wasn't going to charge her my usual rate to do it for her.
My shovel hit plastic and I sighed with relief.
It was noon and the heat had sweat pouring down every inch of me.
My balls were plastered to my fucking thigh, and I just wanted to get home and drink a beer while taking an ice cold shower.
A cracking sound filled the air and my eyes widened.
"Fuck. No-" The lid gave out beneath my weight and sent me and the rest of the dirt on top of it into the tank.
"Goddamn it," I muttered as liquid, and fuck knew what else, sloshed around the top of my thighs.
It seeped into my jeans and boxers and I groaned, trying not to think about what I was fucking standing in.
Sadly, this wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
People waited so long to call us out that their tanks were old and not well maintained.
I was just grateful it wasn't completely full or I'd be standing in shit up to my chest.
I climbed up and out, glaring at the tank as I made my way over to my truck.
Going to the passenger side, I yanked the door open and pulled out the scissors I kept inside the glove box.
Swearing the whole time, I cut my jeans above the line of piss and shit, leaving me in entirely too short Daisy Dukes.
Fuck my life. I looked fucking ridiculous, but it was better than walking around with those biohazards on my legs.
I grabbed a towel and wetted my legs down with the lady's garden hose before drying my legs and dumping the cloth inside her garbage can.
I still smelled like a walking porta potty, but at least, I was somewhat clean.
It took me about an hour to finish up at her house and another fifteen minutes of the lady profusely apologizing for what had happened, before I was able to get the pump truck returned back to the garage.
I told her I’d be back in a day or two with a new lid.
Dad was still out on his runs and Mom's car was gone, so I just shot Dad a text, letting him know I'd see him tomorrow.
They were going to get a good laugh from my predicament. They always did.
I'd pretty much gotten used to the way I smelled by the time I pulled into the clubhouse parking lot. It wasn't until I stepped inside that I realized how bad it was.
"What the fuck?" Butcher asked, disgust filling his face.
"Why do you smell like that?" Toxic asked, gagging a little.
Before I could answer, they'd taken a hold of each of my shoulders and shoved me back outside. "Let me go," I growled at them. I wasn't in the mood to deal with these two idiots.
"Nope," Butcher said. He squinted at me. "Please tell me that's not shit in your beard?"
Toxic's face filled my vision. "Jesus fucking Christ, it is." His skin turned a bit green. "Did it get in your..." he swallowed hard. "Mouth?" he finished, looking like he was going to puke.
"I washed it out with Mountain Dew," I said with a shrug. Again, this wasn't the first time I'd ever gotten questionable liquids inside my mouth while at work. Nothing a tough stomach and Mountain Dew couldn't take care of.
"I can't," Toxic said with a shake of his head. "You just swigged some fucking soda?"
“I spit it out,” I replied.
Butcher disappeared, but came back with a hose.
"Don't," I warned him. "I'm heading upstairs to shower."
"You're not tracking shit inside the clubhouse," Toxic said. "I can deal with most things. That's not one of them. Butcher."
I cursed when hot water from the hose blasted me in the face. "You fucking cunt!" I bellowed, trying to block it with my hand. With the hose lying in the sun all day the water came out at a blistering temperature. "I'm going to fuck you up!"
"Nice shorts, Hell."
“Those are some sexy legs.”
Groaning, I turned and glared at Smokehouse and Ricochet. They were standing behind me, cracking up. Meanwhile, Butcher and Toxic were still attacking me with the fucking hose. Water dripped off my nose as I glowered at my brothers. Thankfully the water was cooling down now.
"What happened?" Ricochet asked, laughing his ass off.
"Shithead got shit in his mouth," Toxic told him, gagging again.
"And his beard," Butcher added.
"That explains why it smells like a sewer over here," Smokehouse claimed with raised brows. "How did you get shit in your mouth?" he asked me.
“Because he’s always talking shit!” Toxic roared.
“What do you expect, he’s got shit for brains!” Butcher howled next to him.
“Is that why he has a shit eating grin?” Ricochet quipped. I narrowed my eyes at him, then got another blast from the hose.
"Have I ever told you that you couldn't pay me enough to do that job?" Toxic asked.
"Fuck off," I muttered, then cursed when the hose hit the back of my head. It wasn't a soft trickle, no, it had an attachment on it that was enough to flay skin from bone. I turned and gave them a narrowed-eyed look. "I'm going to kill both of you," I told them again.
"Not if we kill you first," Butcher said, grinning at me. He sprayed my face again and I growled at him.
"Do I want to know?"
“Prez, I’m not shitting you, this is by far the shittiest thing Hell has ever done,” Ricochet told Lockout as he started toward us.
“Yeah, yeah, get it all out, who’s got another one? Let's get all the poop jokes out,” I snapped, losing my patience.
I turned and watched as Lockout stopped next to the others. He was trying, for my sake, to hold back a grin. Toxic explained the situation. Again. With more gagging.
"Quit being a fucking pussy," I told him. "It's not that bad."
"Not that bad-" He shook his head, eyes comically wide. "Brother, this is literally the shittiest of shit situations."
I rolled my eyes, then shrugged. "Whatever." My arm darted out and I snagged the hose from Butcher before he could pull out of range. I turned it on both men, causing them to curse and bolt, but not before I gave them a good soaking.
"Fucker," Toxic called out, then he chuckled as he shook the water from his arms.
"Hell."
I looked over at Lock, turning the knob at the end of the hose to shut it off. "Yeah?"
"Strip before you go inside." Lock crossed his arms over his chest, face completely serious.
"What?"
"You've got shit spilling out of your boots, Brother," he explained. "Take them off."
Sighing, I bent and untied my work boots, toeing them and my socks off. Giving my president a nod, I turned toward the door.
"The rest, too."
Smoke started beatboxing out a techno tune for me to strip to. I flipped him off. I gave Lock a baleful look. "You fucking serious?"
Lockout just held my stare, unblinking. The others snickered as they watched me pull my soaked shirt off over my head. Next came the shorts my jeans had turned into.
"What do we have to pay for the show?" Toxic was waving around bills.
Sighing, I looked up at the sky, begging for patience. "You're lucky I don't have my fucking boots on anymore, Toxic," I threatened.
Ignoring the whoops and hollers from the guys, I made my way inside. By the time I opened the door to my apartment my irritation was fading and humor was taking over. Especially when I saw Kit's face.
"Um...Bennett?"
"Yeah?" I sort of liked hearing my real name leaving her soft lips.
"Why are you naked?"
"I have my boxers on," I told her with a chuckle.
She shook her head, eyes wide as she stared at me. "That doesn't answer my question."
"Lockout made me strip out front"
She rolled her lips between her teeth to bite back the laugh. "Okay. But...why?"
Shaking my head, I explained as I walked straight to the bathroom and turned on the shower.
It was scalding. I was fine with that. Burning your flesh off was the only way to erase the knowledge that you had other people's feces on you.
For hours. Drying in the scorching sun. It was a traumatic event the first time it happened.
By now? I was mostly used to it. It'd happened before. It would happen again.
I grinned when the curtain whipped back and Kit shoved an ice cold beer in my hand. "You're fucking perfection," I groaned in appreciation.
"Me? Or the beer?" she asked with a laugh.
"Yes." I closed my eyes as I let the chilly liquid fill my mouth and quench my thirst. She laughed again, then stood there watching me drink it. "You could join me."
"Any other time, I might." Her nose scrunched up. "But Hell?" I cocked my head in question. "You stink."
My laughter followed her as she walked out of the bathroom and left me to scrub my skin raw.