The mention of his grandmother brings a smile to my face. I swing into the seat and buckle up. He takes it slow, probably in deference to my pregnant state. Usually he peels out of the driveway as loud and proud as possible.
Easy’s grandma helped us get together and while there were others in the town who thought my household arrangement was scandalous, Easy’s family took it in stride. His grandmother went so far as to seek me out at the coffee shop one day and tell me that Easy had always marched to his own drummer and that she’d never seen him happier.
That was in stark contrast to the reception I had gotten at the bank. I’d gone in to see if I could recover the money that my father had stolen from me but the bank officer looked at me like I was some kind of leper.
One of my old classmates, Sara Ellerby, ended up helping me. She told me I could sue Father for fraud, but the idea of testifying against him in court had my stomach in knots. It was bad enough I was going to have to do that for the criminal proceeding. Airing out all my dirty laundry at one time seemed overkill. Might as well leave some part of my life as a mystery so that the town had something to speculate about.
It isn’t as if I don’t want justice, it’s just that it is all cascading at once. I was prepared to testify but I’m not prepared to sue Father for fraud, deal with my mother, have a baby and set up a household with two men.
Actually, the last one is pretty simple. Having Easy and Michigan to lean on is a relief. Out of all the changes in my life, that’s the best one and if I have to deal with all the rest to keep those two, it’s all worth it.
We arrive at Judge’s garage in a short time. Easy helps me out and I follow him into the corrugated steel and concrete building that houses Judge’s custom car and bike business. Judge intimidates me even though Michigan and Easy are as tall and muscular; there’s an air of command around him that they don’t have. My former boss—Pippa Lang, the head librarian—has no problem handling Judge. In fact, she’s constantly challenging him, and when I worked at the library, that often ended with them locked in her office or making a trip downstairs to the basement. She’d come out flushed and he looked satisfied.
I guess if you’re sleeping with Judge, you have a handle on him in more ways than one.
“Hey, Annie!” Wrecker yells out. Wrecker is Judge’s only son. He was a year behind me in school and Chelsea was three years younger and their relationship rivals mine as being the most gossiped about. Chelsea and Wrecker grew up together as brother and sister. She’s Judge’s stepdaughter.
“Morning, Wrecker.” I wave my hand at him. Out of the two of us, I don’t know who is more scandalous—Chelsea or me. Shacking up with two men is almost better than sleeping with your stepbrother in some folks’ minds. Judge and Wrecker cast long shadows but they aren’t everywhere that Chelsea goes and they aren’t able to fully shield her from the snide remarks and judgmental looks.
I didn’t know either Chelsea or Wrecker well. They were part of the crowd my father had warned me against, and at seventeen I still paid attention to everything he said because I clung to him as my only family.
But my eyes wandered and my heart wondered. I watched as the Death Lords rode into town, riding two by two down the street. Their loud engines set off car alarms and hormones. They walked the sidewalks of Fortune like they owned them, wearing their tight jeans and their loose-fitting leather vests full of patches.
I'm beginning to understand that that confidence comes from their feeling of belonging. That no matter what they do, someone else has their back. I kind of feel that way now with Michigan and Easy.
I heard about the mashes that took place out at the old granary on Friday and Saturday nights. They were supposedly full of every vice and wickedness that man could dream up.
Having been to a couple, the gossip isn’t far from the truth. I’ve seen more couplings and in different positions than I’d ever imagined was possible. Women taking on more than just two men and men enjoying the attentions of two or three women at a time. Sometimes there’s so many bodies enjoying each other, it’s hard to tell where the group starts and stops.
I think the pheromones in the mashes set everyone off. I don’t have any desire to be part of the group sex scenes but I won’t deny it’s easy to get turned on by watching it. At first, I was embarrassed but Michigan and Easy get so pleased when I’m turned on that it’s hard to hold onto that shame unless you try hard. And I’m trying hard to let all those prejudices from the past go so that I can enjoy everything that I have access to.
Meaning if I get excited because Easy’s whispering dirty things in my ear while we watch a woman taking a big man down her throat, there’s nothing wrong with that. And there’s certainly nothing bad about enjoying Michigan’s big, capable hand between my legs as we both watch Easy play poker. And I’d never say no to the two of them leading me upstairs to the top floor and finding an empty room so that one of them can kneel between my legs while the other one feeds my mouth full of his penis.
Shoot, just thinking about all of that is making me flushed and wet.
My panties are starting to stick to me and I wonder if I should just take them off. Nothing worse than wet panties.
“What are you thinking about, baby?” Easy growls in my ear. I catch a glimpse of myself in the long glassed-in window that separates the office from the main garage. My eyes are glittering and my mouth is half parted.
“Stuff,” I mumble.
“Sure you are.” He strokes a hand down my back and over my butt and I can’t stop the shiver of longing in response. His head lowers as if he’s going to kiss me which would lead to me climbing him like a tree and then we’d need to find some private place where we could both get off.
“Annie, I’m surprised to see you,” Judge says, interrupting the eye sex Easy and I were having. He wipes his dirty hands with a cloth, one that is not much cleaner than his hands and I don't know that he gets any of the grease off. But I take his hand anyway because this is a working garage and a little grease never hurt anyone.
“I’m going a little stir-crazy at home and thought I’d come in and start working.”
“She’s also pregnant,” Easy adds.
“Van Beasley!” I smack him across the shoulder, calling him by his Christian name. All thoughts of taking him to the back room and making the ache between my legs go away are replaced by me strangling him in the back room. “That was a secret.”
He shrugs because my slaps against his rock hard shoulder probably feel like a gnat bite. “He’s your employer. Figured he should know.”
Judge pounds Easy on the back. “Congratulations, brother. No better time than when your woman is pregnant.” He bends down and looks at me. “Don’t know that you should be working here, though.”
“That’s what I said,” Easy replies and folds his massive arms across his chest. Judge does the same, forming a wall of seemingly impenetrable testosterone. And this makes me angry enough to glare at Easy and Judge.
“I’m perfectly fine,” I retort and turn toward the office door. “Easy, you go on now. We agreed that I’d call you.”
He shoots a finger at me. “First thing, you contact the doctor. And call if you need anything.” The words are supposed to be for me, but he’s looking at Judge the whole time.
Judge nods and I roll my eyes at this preemptory activity. “I’m fine,” I repeat and leave the two behind as I stride
into the office. Outside I can see the two of them still talking. Judge claps a hand on Easy’s shoulder and then Easy finally leaves.
Judge reappears. “It’s pretty smelly around here so you stay here in the office until you get the all-clear from the doctor.”
“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt the baby and there are plenty of women who work up to the day they deliver.” I can hear my voice getting a little shrill.
“Okay, fair enough. I see that you got overly protective men all over you and you don't need one more.” He grins. “Don’t expect them to let up, though, now that you’ve got their kid in your belly.”
I make a face. “Let’s talk about what you need from me.”
The office is full of paper. There are stacks of it everywhere. A pile that is about two feet high threatens to tumble over the side and into a waiting trash bin. In fact, as I peer over the desk, it looks like there are a few papers that have fallen into the trash. Judge places a big palm on top of the teetering stack.
“I’ve paid all the bills but they should be filed. Last year I wasted a whole month trying to get everything in order for my accountant. That sucked so I’m not doing that again. You file everything and then start keeping track of all of our expenses and our income. If you need supplies you just take it out of petty cash.” He walks over to the steel gray filing cabinet in the corner and pulls out the top drawer. Inside is a small metal box which I see holds several hundred-dollar bills.
“No lock on the money box?” I ask.
Judge slams the drawer shut. “You’d have to have a death wish to steal from me.”
Good point.
“I suspect cleaning this office up will take you at least a couple of days, but if you finish sooner here's the parts catalogs for the engines we build. You should get to know this shit and the ordering process. Easy said you did some bookkeeping for the church?”
“I did all the bookkeeping for the church.”
I smile at the idea of Judge, the outlaw, paying taxes and keeping books.