bitch?"
Wow. Just…wow. How did one respond to that?
I looked to Deuce for help. I didn't know what to do or say, or if I should do or say anything at all. This hadn't gone at all like I’d planned. Not that I'd actually planned on anything specific happening, only vague scenarios all including Deuce without pants on and being really happy to see me. Being screamed at by Deuce's wife, I can honestly say, hadn't crossed my mind.
"Christine," He growled low. Scary low. "Only gonna say this one more time. Get your fuckin' ass outta my club."
"I'm gonna bleed you dry," She hissed. "Gonna take everything you fuckin' have, gonna take your kids, your money, and when I tell the fuckin' cops what goes on round here, I'm gonna take your fuckin' freedom."
This had gone past uncomfortable and well into hazardous. I should never have come here. Since they were busy glaring at one another I started backing out of the room and backed right into a hard body.
The biker standing behind me I recognized. His name was Mick and I had seen him here and there growing up. His messy black hair hung long. He had pretty green eyes and a well trimmed goatee. He was tall, leanly muscled and looked extremely pissed off.
“Prez?” He asked. “You need help with this bitch?”
Deuce was rounding his desk and advancing on Christine. She met him head on, swinging her purse through the air. He ducked, grabbed her purse strap, and barreled into her. She went up and over his shoulder, screaming and flailing.
Deuce, with Christine, stalked across the room. Mick and I hurried out of the way. As soon as Deuce was gone, Mick turned to me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” He growled.
My mouth opened but no sound came out. What?
He shook his head, glaring at me. “Thought Deuce learned his lesson when Preacher put him the hospital but, christ, the two of you just keep goin’ back for more.”
My heart stopped beating. “What did you say?” I whispered.
“Your old man, babe. Capped him twice, he nearly bled out. He was in surgery for a fuckin’ minute . Needed a transfusion. Was in the hospital for weeks.”
I blinked rapidly, trying to process everything he'd just said. Shot him twice? Bled out. Surgery. Transfusion.
“Because of me?” I whispered. My voice caught and my eyes filled with tears. I hadn’t known. If I had, I would have stayed away from him. Never ever would I have put Deuce in danger. God, I was so stupid. Stupid to push him into having sex with me. Stupid to think my father wouldn't know. He always knew, he k new everything.
☼☼☼
“Go,” Deuce demanded, pushing his wife toward her car. “Now.”
“Who is that?” She screeched. He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing. God, this fucking woman.
“She is none of your fuckin’ business, bitch. Now fuckin’ go.”
“I fuckin’ saw t he way you were lookin’ at her! You’ve never looked at me that way! Never!”
“Never looked at you like much of anything cuz you’re not much of anything ‘cept a crazy fuckin’ bitch.”
She came at him, fake nails flying. Grabbing her shoulders, he threw her up against her car. "Get the fuck outta here!" He bellowed.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” She demanded. “What’s she got that I don’t?”
He let her go and backed away from her. “What’s wrong with you?” He sneered. “You’re not her, that’s what’s wrong with you. What’s she got that you don’t? Bitch, she’s got me and you never fuckin' did.”
He watched her suck in air. She blinked rapidly trying to stop the tears he knew were coming. He wanted to care, he really did, but he didn't. Not anymore. Too much ugly shit had gone down between them over the years, for too many fucking years. Met her at twenty five, married her when she got pregnant, lived in misery with her ever since. There is only so much nagging,
Wow. Just…wow. How did one respond to that?
I looked to Deuce for help. I didn't know what to do or say, or if I should do or say anything at all. This hadn't gone at all like I’d planned. Not that I'd actually planned on anything specific happening, only vague scenarios all including Deuce without pants on and being really happy to see me. Being screamed at by Deuce's wife, I can honestly say, hadn't crossed my mind.
"Christine," He growled low. Scary low. "Only gonna say this one more time. Get your fuckin' ass outta my club."
"I'm gonna bleed you dry," She hissed. "Gonna take everything you fuckin' have, gonna take your kids, your money, and when I tell the fuckin' cops what goes on round here, I'm gonna take your fuckin' freedom."
This had gone past uncomfortable and well into hazardous. I should never have come here. Since they were busy glaring at one another I started backing out of the room and backed right into a hard body.
The biker standing behind me I recognized. His name was Mick and I had seen him here and there growing up. His messy black hair hung long. He had pretty green eyes and a well trimmed goatee. He was tall, leanly muscled and looked extremely pissed off.
“Prez?” He asked. “You need help with this bitch?”
Deuce was rounding his desk and advancing on Christine. She met him head on, swinging her purse through the air. He ducked, grabbed her purse strap, and barreled into her. She went up and over his shoulder, screaming and flailing.
Deuce, with Christine, stalked across the room. Mick and I hurried out of the way. As soon as Deuce was gone, Mick turned to me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” He growled.
My mouth opened but no sound came out. What?
He shook his head, glaring at me. “Thought Deuce learned his lesson when Preacher put him the hospital but, christ, the two of you just keep goin’ back for more.”
My heart stopped beating. “What did you say?” I whispered.
“Your old man, babe. Capped him twice, he nearly bled out. He was in surgery for a fuckin’ minute . Needed a transfusion. Was in the hospital for weeks.”
I blinked rapidly, trying to process everything he'd just said. Shot him twice? Bled out. Surgery. Transfusion.
“Because of me?” I whispered. My voice caught and my eyes filled with tears. I hadn’t known. If I had, I would have stayed away from him. Never ever would I have put Deuce in danger. God, I was so stupid. Stupid to push him into having sex with me. Stupid to think my father wouldn't know. He always knew, he k new everything.
☼☼☼
“Go,” Deuce demanded, pushing his wife toward her car. “Now.”
“Who is that?” She screeched. He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing. God, this fucking woman.
“She is none of your fuckin’ business, bitch. Now fuckin’ go.”
“I fuckin’ saw t he way you were lookin’ at her! You’ve never looked at me that way! Never!”
“Never looked at you like much of anything cuz you’re not much of anything ‘cept a crazy fuckin’ bitch.”
She came at him, fake nails flying. Grabbing her shoulders, he threw her up against her car. "Get the fuck outta here!" He bellowed.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” She demanded. “What’s she got that I don’t?”
He let her go and backed away from her. “What’s wrong with you?” He sneered. “You’re not her, that’s what’s wrong with you. What’s she got that you don’t? Bitch, she’s got me and you never fuckin' did.”
He watched her suck in air. She blinked rapidly trying to stop the tears he knew were coming. He wanted to care, he really did, but he didn't. Not anymore. Too much ugly shit had gone down between them over the years, for too many fucking years. Met her at twenty five, married her when she got pregnant, lived in misery with her ever since. There is only so much nagging,
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