Crank
Staring at the bottle in my hand, I twirled it around. I’d already peeled the label off, condensation dripping down the dark glass. I didn’t even know why I was drinking the fucking thing. I’d always hated the taste of beer. I was more of a whiskey man. I loved the burn, but beer, it helped to numb the senses and right now, they needed to be fucking buried into oblivion.
I thought back to the night I had watched Rooney kill the traitor and that Vincenzo bastard. I wasn’t ashamed to admit it had made my stomach turn with how brutal it had been.
“You okay?” Venom asked, coming to sit with me.
Glancing around at the clubhouse, seeing some of the guys fucking random chicks, it all seemed … normal.
After the past couple of days, I didn’t think I could handle normal. For a short time, I thought I’d lost my Prez, then I wanted Rooney’s blood, and now, they were both alive and it had all been some fucking plot I wasn’t part of.
Yeah, that part pissed me off the most. The fact they couldn’t even include me and I was the VP. Of course, I knew it was all because of Ted, and just thinking about that bastard, I wanted a chance at him, wanted to kill him all over again. However, that had come down to Venom and Rooney, and from what I saw, they had taken care of him.
“I’m fine.”
“Really? It looks like someone has asked you to sniff an asshole or something.”
I burst out laughing. It was rare for Venom to laugh or joke about anything. Unless it was with Rebekah. The past few months I’d seen the change in him. It’s amazing what a good woman could do for a man.
I clenched my jaw and breathed out slowly as I thought about women and relationships.
I didn’t want to think about her, so I finished my beer and put the bottle on the table. One of the club whores would clean up right away.
Tapping my leg, I shook my head. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
“Hey, it was nothing personal. Rooney needed an out and I needed to find the rat.”
“I get it, Venom. I do. You got to understand for a short time, I thought you were dead and that fucked with my head. You’re my brother.” I slapped him on the back. “I’m your VP. I thought I’d fucked up.” I snorted. “I did fuck up. Not once did I think Ted would betray us.”
“Yeah, well, greed and power will do that to you.” Venom finished his drink. “I’m going to go and see my woman.”
“Rebekah’s turning out to be the right woman for you?”
“She is. I never thought I’d turn into a one-woman man, but here I stand.”
“Hell has frozen over,” I joked.
Venom clapped my back. “Rather have cold balls than fried ones. Don’t be gone too long.” Another two slaps to the back, and we separated.
Apparently, that was the end of that. I exhaled and ran a hand over the back of my head.
Heading out to the parking lot, I saw a couple of girls deep throating the prospects. Even they were getting some action. In all my years as VP, I’d come to see there were two types of women. The ones who fucked for a title, and the ones who earned your love.
Most of the women I’d fucked just wanted to be a biker’s bitch. They didn’t care who claimed them, only that they did. They were all willing to do anything. To be every single guy’s wet dream.
In the early years, I was more than happy to take them up on their offer. To fuck them in whatever hole they wanted. To go ass to mouth and back again. Dirty shit.
As with all things, it got old really fucking quickly.
Maybe I was the one getting old.
I watched the girls jump from bed to bed, and I guess it was witnessing Rebekah and Venom. They started something in my head that I couldn’t seem to shake, and it unnerved me. I’d been the kind of guy happy to not have a woman on my arm, begging for attention.
Only, I’d seen that look of contentment on Venom’s face. I’d seen it on Rooney’s. None of the easy pussy appealed to either of them. Their women looked at them, no other man. Rebekah especially, as I hadn’t seen much of Rooney’s woman.
Straddling my bike, I pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward town, to where my house was. It was one of those nice, up and coming estates that had the happy families up and down the streets.
It wasn’t me, yet here I was.
Pulling into my driveway, I smirked as my neighbor called her twin five-year-olds toward her as if I was some kind of criminal.
Yes, I was a criminal. I’d killed people for sport and I loved it, but I’d never hurt kids.
“Don’t worry about her acting all uppity. She acts all scared but Mrs. Bridge wants to sleep with you.”
I turned to see Tamara on the edge of the porch railing. Her legs were crossed and her hair was pulled down across one shoulder. She swayed her crossed legs in front of her.
Tamara was eighteen years old, still in high school, for fuck’s sake. But the past summer, she’d been stopping by my house. Every time I looked at her, I had to remember she was too young. But it was the pain in her eyes that always took my breath away.
“I’m sure her husband would have a problem with that,” I said.
She laughed. “Please, he’d have a problem but he’s too much of a pussy to do anything about it.”
“What are you doing hanging out here? Shouldn’t you be spending time with your friends?” I asked.
A shadow fell across her face. “I don’t have friends.”
This right here. I felt like I was missing something, something big and important.
“Tamara, get in the fucking house.”
I watched as she tensed up. She gritted her teeth as she looked over her shoulder.
Her face had lost its rosy complexion. She looked almost defeated, broken.
“I’ll see you around,” she said. Instead of jumping back into her own front yard, she dropped down into mine, running her fingers through her hair. It looked like she wanted to say something, but instead she gave me a wave and turned to leave.
Why did I feel the need to wrap her in my arms and tell her it was going to be okay?
She’s jailbait.
I shouldn’t care about Tamara, and yet as I watched her ass sway as she walked away, I knew deep down … I was fucked.