Resistance (11 page)

Chapter 10

Beau Hawley
, the Mayhem President, has been here for the last hour. I’m doing a pretty intense sleeve for him and I expect that I’ll be here for another three hours or so. It’s a good chance for me to suck up and hopefully find out when I can patch in.

“Down!” Beau bellows at his dog
, Butch. Butch isn’t so butch, really. Butch is a labradoodle or some poodle mix like that and is full of energy. Why Beau brought him in I’ll never understand.

“It’s ok
ay.” I chuckle as the dog tucks its tail between its legs and comes to sit next to Beau.

“No
, it’s not okay. Damned dog isn’t trained for shit. The kids, the ol’ lady, they spoil the damned thing like he’s one of us!” Beau complains. I smirk and try to focus on my work. The buzzing helps keep thoughts from lingering in my mind, like thoughts of Pepper and our makeshift movie date the other night. She’d looked so stunned when I’d kissed her goodnight. I’ve made a point of not calling or texting her for the last twenty-four hours so I don’t seem too eager. She’s sent one text since then, the morning after. All it said was, “Friends huh?” I’d laughed out loud to myself and decided not to reply. It was a good sign, right? She was still thinking of me the next morning.

“So
, Beau,” I hedge, “any chance I’ll be patching in soon?”

“All in good time my little one.” He laughs deeply. I feel like a petulant child for asking. I huff and continue with his tattoo. “Yes
, Sawyer, you will patch in soon. You’re coming right up on a year and we’ve had no issues. You’re loyal, the ladies like you, and our kids seem to hit it off.” I jerk the gun up and away from his arm at the mention of “
our kids
.” Hell no. Beau’s deep voice booms with laughter at my response. “Take it easy. I was just messin’ with you.”

“Right
,” I say dryly.

“You’re gonna have a tough go of it with her if you stay this protective.”
He chuckles at me.

“You
’re implying that I shouldn’t be this protective?” I question.

“Not at all. You’re a smart man and a good father
,” he answers. I grin and get back to the job at hand. I would do anything for Allie and I intend to.

The small bell at the door jingles and Butch goes nuts with excitement. Beau calls after him as he sprints to the front of the shop but the dog is a lost cause. I stop what I’m doing and glance up to see Clara making her way towards us, Butch in tow, leaping and licking her hand. She shakes her head
, smiling, and pets his head for a moment. A neon green streak of hair hangs down from her shoulder and she’s revealing just a hint of her tattoo at the exposed part of her collar.

“Hey
, boys. Just picking up Allie’s backpack,” she greets happily.

“She’s getting real good at leaving it behind to get out of homework
,” I admonish.

“Yeah. Tell me about it. I fought with her for thirty minutes the other night over doing homework that would have taken her fifteen to just sit
down and do! Dom had to step in and take over.” She shakes her head and throws her hands in the air, looking frustrated.

“What do you mean?” I question
.

“Relax
, Sawyer. I was flustered and getting angry. He stepped in to keep us from killing each other,” she explains.

“Right.”

“What’s your problem? Beau, what is his problem today?” Clara asks sarcastically.

“Seems to me the man doesn't much like another man in his kid
’s life,” Beau says. Shit. The last thing I need is someone meddling in our lives. Clara is already glaring.

“HIS kid?”
she squeaks. Bad sign. Squeaking is a sure sign we’re about to get an earful. I want to diffuse the situation but there isn’t much I can do at this point. Clara wants me in Allie’s life. I know this, she knows this, but Allie isn’t legally mine in any way. I just…stuck around and after seven years, Allie thinks of me as her dad just as much as I think of her as my daughter. Blood be damned.

“Clara
,” I butt in.

“Allie is MY kid. I grew her. I birthed her and I’m responsible for her. Is that clear?” She’s boring holes into Beau’s head but he seems completely unaffected. Her small hands are fisted at her sides and she's turning pink in the face
.

“CLARA!” I shout
, breaking her concentration. Her face snaps to mine and if looks could kill I would surely be dead. “He’s right and you’re right. Allie is yours. Allie is also mine. I love her as my own. I’m protective. It’s hard sharing her with someone new. That’s all Beau meant. Chill, love,” I finish and regret throwing “love” at the end but Clara’s face softens and she breathes again.

“Right. Sorry
, Beau. I’m a little protective of my marriage and Dom. Sawyer,” she says, facing me again, “there’s no need to explain to you that for all intents and purposes you are the only father Allie has known and you’ve always been a good one. Try to keep your friends’ mouths shut ‘cause I really don’t want to hear their opinions on our arrangement.” She snaps her mouth closed and grabs Allie’s backpack from the corner before storming out.

“Damn. She must have been wild in the sack
,” Beau says and chuckles.

“She’s not really so bad. She’s soft and warm when she lets her guard down. But yeah
—she definitely has serious attitude and sass. It’s kinda what drew me to her,” I ramble. “I liked the challenge. I liked the reward, too, getting to see her softer side. It’s almost like two different people. Oh well, though.” I bite my lip to keep myself from saying more and start back in on Beau’s sleeve.

“You love her still?” Beau asks
.

“Do you ever really stop loving someone you loved?”

“Deep, man. I guess not, but we all move forward and try again,” he says wisely. Like he’s trying to tell me to move the fuck on. I am, dammit! Pepper is the perfect distraction. She makes me feel. She makes me want to feel things that I haven’t in a very long time.

“True enough. Everyone wants to find their slice of the pie
,” I say with a grin.

Butch, who followed Clara to the front door
, comes prancing back to us. He stops, looks up at Beau, then at me, then moves closer to me. Before I have a chance to think about it any further Beau starts yelling, “NO! Stop!”

I pull the gun from his arm just as Butch lifts his leg and pisses all over my leg
.

What. The. Hell
.

“What the shit man!” I scream like a little bitch and push my stool back harshly while standing. Butch cocks his little
cockapoodledoo-whatever head at me and wags his tail. Beau takes one look at my pant leg and bursts out laughing. My pant leg is drenched in dog piss and it’s not even from my own dog. I groan and set the gun down, all the while Beau’s laughter fills the shop. I can’t help but start to chuckle too. The dog looks so Goddamned happy and Beau’s laughter is contagious.

“Hydrant!” Beau laughs
.

“What?” I squawk
.

“Hydrant! You, son, just got your nickname
!” he explains before falling into another fit of laughter. It’s deep and loud. I groan through my smile. The moment is too funny not to share so I pull my phone from my pocket and send Pepper a quick text.

“
So, while trapped mid-tattoo for Beau, his dog came over & pissed all over me.

All over my pants & shoe.
”

My phone dings with a response moments later
.

“
OMG-YOU GOT PISSED ON AT WORK?! I would have left! I mean @ the very least to change clothes for Christ’s sake! WTF!”

I type a quick response to her
.

“
Working on it...Was just coined ‘Hydrant’”

Almost instantly my phone dings at me again
.

“
No way. no. effin. way. DISGUSTING. And...worst. nickname. ever.”

I chuckle at her response and tell Beau that I’ll be back in a few
; I need to grab a change of clothes before we can continue.

Carmine and Hoot are at the bar chatting it up with two rather
skanky-looking chicks. Carmine’s wide, white smile makes his dark, slicked-back hair look even darker. He looks like a greaser straight out of the fifties. The redhead next to him titters, placing a hand on his chest while she leans in to whisper something in his ear. His face lights up, part elation and part danger, looking at her secret words. Hoot and the brunette at his side look to be having a deep conversation in the form of shots. My brothers will not be driving home tonight, and I have a feeling whoever they take home won’t be either. I push my glass across the dinged-up wooden bar top and nod to the bartender to fill me up again. Club soda and cherry juice. The Kaboose isn't known for its high-class clientele but it’s a great spot for people watching. Leaning my elbows back onto the bar, I relax into my spot and glance around the place.

Twenty-
somethings gyrate and grind all over each other on the dance floor. House-like music pumps from the speakers. Women line the bar, perched, really, waiting for someone to hit on them or offer up a drink. In the back corner, where we are, Hoot, Carmine, and their selected dates for the evening play a game of pool. Carmine’s hand slides up the back of the redhead’s thigh as she lines up a shot while bent over the pool table. Her lips turn up coyly as he slides his hand up higher to rest on her rear. He pulls his hand back and as she executes her shot he spanks her, hard. Her eyes bulge, her cue stick misses the ball, and she lurches forward. I watch as she tries to regain composure before spinning around and snarling at Carmine. Hoot shakes his head just barely and steps in front of his date. A protective move. I stay glued to my spot watching carefully.

Carmine smiles a slick smile at the redhead and yanks her by the hips to him roughly. Her body
, stiff and rigid, releases as he drunkenly mumbles something into her ear. I can honestly say that I absolutely don’t like the way he treats women. I will not, however, make that statement out loud to him.

By eleven I’m tired of people watching but I’m driving my two trashed friends and probably their women home and they show no signs of being ready to leave. Carmine prowls over to me, a cocky grin on his face
, and slaps my shoulder as he leans a hip against the bar.

“Have a drink.”

“I am.” I hold up my glass.

“Something that actually has alcohol in it
,” he responds.

“I’m not really big on driving buzzed
,” I reply dryly.

“You
gotta problem with me tonight?” he asks, head cocked.

“No
,” I clip. Hoot dawdles to a stop next to Carmine and smiles at us.
“We shoulda waited to pick ladies,” he says, nodding his head in the direction of the entrance.

I follow his direction and smirk at my insanely good luck. Greta
, in all her blonde-goddess beauty, followed by Pepper, a stark contrast with her luscious black hair and tanned skin, are pushing through the crowd to the bar with shit-eating grins on their faces. They stand out here, looking too classy for the joint but not caring in the slightest. Greta’s pale yellow silk shirt and tight white pants show off her impeccable body and every guy here has taken a gander. Pepper though, damn, she’s wearing black leather shorts with a white top that exposes her front and back precariously. How the shirt doesn't just slip off either one of the breasts it’s covering is beyond me.

We’re at the far end from them and they haven’t noticed us yet which makes me smile. I like watching Pepper do her thing when she’s comfortable and relaxed. Greta scans the bar and I turn my back to them for a moment not wanting to be seen just yet
.

“Blonde
,” Hoot calls. Carmine’s eyes are slits, his face twisted up like he’s trying to recall details of something long forgotten as he watches Greta and Pepper.

“Not sure you want the blonde
,” I answer.

“Why’s that?”

“She’s a wee bit scary,” I reply.

“You know her? Hook a brother up!” Hoot exc
laims, forgetting about the woman he just spent the last two hours with.

“Who’s her friend?” Carmine demands
.

“That’s Pepper.” I smile. Carmine’s eyes meet mine, a blank expression on his face. His
eyes turn cold before turning away. I swear I hear him mumble “fuck” before stalking back to the redhead with his beer.

“What’s his deal?” I ask Hoot
.

“
Dunno. PMS maybe. Sometimes I wonder about him,” he says quietly.

“Me too.”

Chapter
11

Hoot flags the bartender down and orders another beer. I order a glass of bourbon and have it sent to Pepper and vodka for Greta. I watch from my spot as Pepper’s eyes scan the bar meticulously searching for the drink sender. Greta spotted me moments ago but I’d put my finger to my lips and she’d played along. Pepper
’s shirt rides up slightly as she leans forward to see my corner of the bar better from her spot. When her eyes meet mine they show surprise before morphing into a pleased expression. She waves just slightly and smiles. I return the gestures and turn my back. She will have to come to me tonight. I need to retain a modicum of willpower in this game of “friends only.”

Thirty minutes pass and my willpower is zil
ch. I’m watching Greta and Pepper dance together seductively, like a pervert. Hoot is practically foaming at the mouth next to me. He’s already asked me three times why the hell I haven't gone to her or waved them to us. I attempted to explain that I was testing the waters and seeing if she’d give in first but he told me I was stupid and laughed. Greta drags a finger from Pepper’s collarbone down between her breasts as they dance. Three men circle them, lustful sneers on their faces. Over my dead body.

I push off of the bar as one of them places his hands on Greta’s waist and tugs her rear to his crotch. Pushing my way through the crowd
, I stalk purposefully to them. I’m not sure what I’m doing but I’m not going to sit back and watch other men manhandle my girl. Shit.
My girl
. I chastise myself and reinforce “friends only” silently before placing a palm on the second man’s shoulder and tearing him away from Pepper. He glares at me but I imagine the look I’m sporting tells him that I’m not backing down. Pepper spins to face me.

“Hi.”
She smiles coyly.

“Hi
,” I grind out.

“Dance with me?” she asks
, looking up at me through thick black lashes. I reach out and spread the palms of my hands on her hips before pulling her closer a little more roughly than anticipated. Her small hands come up and rest on my biceps as I start to move us to the music. “
Tambourine
” blares from the speakers. I’m not the best dancer but I’m not the worst either. Pepper shakes her hips, sending shock waves through me straight to my dick. Greta watches me from the corner of her eye as she shimmies with a tall, strapping guy next to us. I glide my hands up to Pepper’s waist, my thumbs almost able to stroke the sides of her breasts. From my height I can watch the sway of her breasts as she moves perfectly. A long, gold chain hangs between them, a ring hanging off it. The diamond glints in the blinking lights surrounding the dance floor.

A ring? She twists just as I’m about to make contact with the soft
, full mounds, pushing her rear into my crotch just slightly. My dick jumps to attention and a groan falls out of me. My hands grip her waist tightly, trying to hold her in place as she dances. Her hands cover mine and squeeze gently. She turns again, facing me, hands on either side of my neck, and pulls my face closer to hers. Thank God. Her lips graze the shell of my ear as she says, “You’re a good dancer.” I laugh and shake my head at her. Her hands drop to my forearms and slide lower until she takes my hands in hers. I release one hand and use the other to twirl her. She cackles with laughter as I pull her back to me and rock us back and forth.

“Who’s that?” she shouts over the music
, eyeing Hoot who is now dancing with Greta. Unfortunately Greta looks bored.

“Hoot. MC brother
,” I answer.

“Boys
’ night out?”

“Girls
’ night out?” I ask.

“Fun night out
,” she states. “Blowing off steam.” Her eyes gleam with mischief. I lean closer to her. Her eyes are mildly bloodshot. I wonder if she’s high again.

“Ditto
,” I mouth in her ear. Goose bumps break out down her neck and arms. I push in a half an inch further to kiss the spot under her ear but she pulls away before I make contact. Damn.

“Control yourself
,
friend
,” she chastises playfully. A light sheen of sweat coats her face and cleavage. I want to taste it. She looks wild with her hair tousled, her dark, stormy eye makeup, her revealing outfit. Her legs appear to go on for days in those heels. And those pouty, full lips…

“Working on it
,” I mutter, discouraged. Her hand moves like lightning, cupping me. Her eyes widen with mine as she feels my obvious hardness and then she smirks, removing her hand and backing up a step. I feel like I’m going to explode. She doesn’t seem to play fair. Carmine slams his hand on my shoulder, hard, jarring me.

“Pepper, this is Carmine
,” I say, trying to discreetly adjust my erection. Carmine nods and extends a hand to her. Pepper’s eyes narrow at him but she quickly shakes his hand. I don’t like the way he’s looking at her, like he wants to consume her, but not in a sexual way, in a way that screams rage. Greta obviously picks up on this too because in an instant she’s stepping in front of Pepper, introducing herself. Carmine tears his gaze from Pepper and smiles at Greta.

“You ladies want a drink?” he asks
.

“No thanks. We’re about ready to leave
,” Greta answers.

“Shame
,” Carmine replies.

“Not the way I see it
,” Greta responds coolly. Carmine’s lips lift into a faint snarl. What the hell is going on? I really don’t like drunk Carmine. At. All. This is embarrassing.

“You got something to say?” he questions menacingly. I need to get them apart. Greta
, although trained to do damage, would never forgive me if anything happened to her or Pepper at the hands of a man. My instincts are screaming at me, shouting that Carmine would absolutely put his hands on a woman. It makes my stomach roll.

“Dude. Let’s bail. It’s last call anyways
,” I shout over the music. Greta looks ready to pounce and Pepper wobbles, slightly buzzed, behind her with Hoot at her side.

“I
wanna hear what blondey here has to say,” Carmine bites out, not backing down. I slap a hand on his shoulder and spin him to me.

“What the fuck
, man. Grab the redhead and let’s go,” I state firmly. Carmine stares me down for what seems like an eternity until finally nodding his head and stalking off.

“Some friend
,” Greta spits viciously.

“I’m not sure we’re friends after tonight. He’s a Mayhem prospect too but...” I trail off. The music abruptly stops and a loud pop explodes from the speaker. I flinch at the unexpected noise. Greta whirls around
, looking for the source of the sound, and Pepper crouches, eyes wide, terrified. Hoot reaches his hand to her and she cautiously stands, eyes trailing over every dark corner of the bar. Curious. Most everyone in the bar jumped, flinched, or was already too drunk or deaf to react. Greta grabs Pepper’s hand and tugs her towards the door in a rush. You’d think by their reaction that a gunshot sounded off. Pepper halts and turns back to me.

“Night
,” she calls out. I raise a hand at her, signaling my goodbye as Greta tugs on her hand and she disappears out the bar door. I’m rooted in my spot wondering about too many different things. I’ve been cockblocked, turned on, shot down, and offended by someone who’s supposed to be a friend. I should have just stayed home tonight.