10. Trixie
10
Trixie
I dabbed Cinder’s head with a wet washcloth, and he moaned like a normal man who thought he was dying from a cold. He rolled to the left but didn’t open his eyes. He hadn’t realized his hands were cuffed and his feet tied with Zip Ties.
Luckily, he’d left the club alone after getting an anonymous call from yours truly. Amazing how fast a man can move when pussy is involved. Too excited to pay attention to the road, I ran my car into the back of his bike and sent him skidding along the center yellow lines, laying his bike down in sparks and loud screeching. He rolled a good hundred feet before coming to a stop. By then, he was dazed and had no idea who was helping him get into a car. Then I gave him a little shot to put him out, thanks to my FBI stash of drugs.
I didn’t disagree that Kristine made her own bed and had to die in it. We were as close as any sisters and often talked about the freaky shit we were into. Since we both enjoyed kink, we decided we got our nastiness gene from our parents. We often sat in our shared bedroom giggling at the noises our parents made while fucking in their bedroom. When we asked Dad about the noises, he said Mom was a restless sleeper.
They toned it down a bit after I asked the question, and one night, after they left for a party, Kristine and I snuck into their bedroom and found Mom’s secret box under the bed. The shit we pulled out of the box made us laugh the rest of the night.
A few weeks after we found the box and I was home alone, I went back to the box and took the thing that vibrated and looked like a dick. It took nearly thirty minutes to figure out its proper use, but once I did, I think I used it more than she did. Kristine later admitted she had done the same thing.
When Kristine and I left for college in Fayetteville, we met a professor who introduced us to some darker shit: shibari, breath play, bondage, spanking, and role-playing. We were impressionable young women, and he took full advantage. After college, I went to Quantico and joined the FBI. Kristine stayed behind and continued the life our professor had made us enjoy.
I sat in the chair close to the door, looking around the cheap-ass hotel, the stains on the floor, the comforter that looked forty years old, and the only ashtray I’d seen in nearly ten years. Cinder deserved to die in a place like this.
“I’m fucking dead anyway,” Cinder said. “I don’t give a shit what you do to me.”
I blew cigarette smoke his way. “So if I cut your dick off and let you bleed out, that’s okay?”
“Do whatever the fuck you want.” He coughed, and a splattering of blood hit the pillow. “She was a nice girl, Trixie. What happened was nothing more than an accident. I did what she wanted, and it went too far. I wasn’t into that fucked up shit. I didn’t know. ”
“You think I should let you go,” I said. "I can’t do that, even if it was an accident. You tried to hide it. Hell, you tried to pin it on one of your brothers. You just left her there.”
He spit blood across the bed. “Let me the fuck out of here. I don’t deserve to die in this shit hole.”
“I’m not going to turn the club in for the gun violations,” I said. “Shit, I’m fucking head over heels for Watcher. What does it mean if I kill you and the club finds out? I’d be one dead bitch. So, no, I’m not going to kill you. But you are going to die here.”
Someone knocked on the door, and Cinder laughed. “Dumb bitch, they found you.” He sat up, feeling better about his situation. “They’ll set me free, and then I’ll stick my dick so far down your throat it’ll be coming out your ass.”
I snubbed out my cigarette and walked to the bathroom. Cinder watched with amusement. I opened the window in the bathroom, knowing it exited to the back of the building, where my car waited.
“I don’t think your dick is even big enough to hit my throat. But you keep dreaming.” I looked out the window, satisfied I could climb out without breaking anything.
“Where the fuck are you going?”
“To meet Watcher. Supposed to have dinner, although I think plans will probably change once the Punishers are done with you.”
“Fucking bitch.”
I climbed through the window and closed it. I didn’t bother hanging around for the screaming and sound of guts torn open. I drove around the building and looked back at the parking lot as the four Punishers left the room without Cinder.
I didn’t kill the man.
I met Watcher at Lady Birds Cafe, and he gave me the low down on the missing Cinder. I assured him I didn’t kill the man, and because I grabbed his dick under the table, I didn’t need to say anymore. The fastest way to Watcher's heart was through his dick.
“You’ve heard all the shit about me?” Watcher asked.
I nodded. I’d heard all about his wives and kids and Canadian exile—exile he did on his own. I didn’t care. We all had baggage. Those who claimed they didn’t were lying or never lived life the way it should be.
“I don’t want to be shared, Watcher. If I’m in the club, it’s with you and nobody else.” I released his dick and sat back. “I’m serious. I know all the shit that goes on now. You said yourself you wanted—you needed—to back off the shit you were doing.”
“You want me to make you my old lady?”
“That’s what I want, but not if I’m going to be second to another woman.” I ate a bite of pastry. “If you can’t make that commitment, I’ll move on.”
“You and me?”
I nodded. “We’ll be into some weird stuff, but I think we can do it without killing each other.” He reached across and put his hand on my face. He kissed me but stopped when his phone buzzed. I guessed Cinder had been found. Good for him. Maybe he held on until they dragged his ass out of the shit hole.
Watcher leaned back in his seat and rubbed his face. He put the phone down and shook his head. “Beast and Diesel got a call from the Shipwreck Motel. A piece of shit motel on the outskirts of town. They found Cinder with a bullet in his head, and his guts spread around the room. A big fucking P on the wall.”
“That’s terrible,” I said.
“Is it? Or are you pissed you didn’t get to kill him?”
“Both. You know he was a shitty person. ”
“Follow me back to the club. I wanna make sure your ass is safe, and the club knows you’re not the one who killed Cinder.” Watcher paid the bill, and I rolled the rest of my pastry into a napkin. I followed him outside, noticing him notice my front bumper. He said nothing and climbed on his bike. When we got to the club, everyone was outside.
“Where the fuck were you?” Beast yelled and stuck a finger in my face. Watcher stepped between us.
“Chill the fuck out, brother,” Watcher said. “She’s been with me. We were at the fucking cafe.”
“Church. Now,” Beast said, and all the officers went inside. The old ladies went inside as well. April stayed outside and sat on one of the picnic tables. She pulled a beer from an ice bucket and handed it to me. She grabbed one of her own.
“Well, we know who the most hated woman in the club is,” April said.
“There’s still time.” I opened the beer and sat next to her. “Brainiac is a good catch. Towles, I mean. How does he feel about your age difference? He’s pretty used to younger pussy that he can train and lead around on a leash.”
“Doesn’t seem to care,” she said, but there was doubt in her voice.
“Do you? Think of all that young pussy walking around the club. Every woman in this place wants a shot at Ethan.” I drank half the beer and placed the bottle on the table. “Don’t forget about the whore house they own. Lots of pussy there as well.”
“I don’t mind the age difference as long as he treats me well.” She gave me a side-eye. “I see what you’re trying to do with all the pussy talk. That doesn’t bother me, either."
“It might in ten years,” I said.
“We’ll see. I plan on being here to find out. ”
I needed friends in the club. I needed to repair the shit I had broken if I ever expected to be welcomed in. Watcher’s word would only go so far. I thought Kristine would be proud of me for giving up the FBI and finally living my life as I wanted. I’d spent so much time worrying about what others thought about me that I didn’t take the time to understand what I thought about myself.
“I can have some friends at the bureau dig up stuff on Paul if you’d like.”
April stopped drinking her beer. “I may just take you up on that. I’m sure he’ll have me blacklisted in the city. Even if I open my own business, I won’t get a single patient.” She finished the beer and grabbed another. “It has been one of those days.”
“You have ink?” I asked. I showed her a picture of Kristine on my shoulder.
“Paul would never allow it. He said our bodies weren’t meant to be destroyed in that way. I told him it would be in a place only he could see. Still wasn’t interested.”
“Paul sounds like a real dick.” I grabbed another beer and removed the top. I took out my phone and sent a message to Gulley Sanders, the club’s official tattoo artist. He appeared from one of the garages.
The most fucked up thing about Gulley is that he didn’t have a single tattoo. He claimed he had a skin disease preventing him from being inked, but he didn’t mind inking others.
“Nice skin, baby,” he said to April. He held her arm and turned it over. “Man and woman making out. Heads can be real, the rest of their bodies skeleton.”
“Sick,” I said with enthusiasm. I took off my shirt and showed her a picture of a Luna butterfly on my other shoulder. “I love the ink, but the pain is fantastic. Fucking relaxing. It puts me in another place. ”
April pulled her shirt off and sat there in her bra. “You’re being a bad influence.” She looked at Gulley. “Let’s do it.”
Gulley left to get his equipment, a giddy in his step.
“Am I making a mistake?” April asked.
“You mean with Towles? You’d be making a mistake if you didn’t try.” I put my shirt back on. “These men aren’t your everyday weekend warriors who take their bikes for a spin and then head back to a nine-to-five on Monday. They’re serious. They’re die-hards. Fuck them over, and they’ll bend you across a table and run a train on you.”
I spent the next hour watching Gulley work and April trying not to flinch. I thought maybe I’d finally made a friend in the club. That’s if the club accepted her.
When Gulley finished, April had a huge smile on her face. She lost the smile when Manning pulled into the parking lot. My boss, Tom Washington, was with him. Neither man waited for Beast or the other members to come out.
“Get in the car, Trixie,” Tom said. “Don’t make me ask twice.”
“You’re lucky this is out of my jurisdiction,” Manning said. “You better hope they don’t push it back to me.”
“Let Watcher know, will you?” I asked April. She went inside, and I climbed into Tom’s car, thinking I’d never see the club again.