“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Stop with the temper tantrum and fix the fucking bike.”
“You can’t talk to me like that!” Who does he think he is treating me like I’m beneath him!
“Why? Because you’re a club princess? News flash, D, your daddy ain’t here and you’re in my club now.” Brash and arrogant, he tilts his head to the side, waiting for me to argue.
But reality slaps me in the face, leaving me speechless, and I glare at him in response. I am at his mercy and having my own place to do my own work is something I’ve been wanting for a really long time, so I gotta rein it in before I lose it all.
His finger slips across my bottom lip before pushing against it roughly.
“You feel that?” he asks.
That, as in the electric pull between us. It was there when we were kids and it’s still there today. But why? Why would I feel this way after the fucking horror I went through. Exhaling a long gasp of sexual tension, I grasp his wrist and push his hand away from my face.
“I don’t feel anything. Now get out so I can fix the damn bike.” My voice cracks, trying to keep back the tears, my chest rising and falling rapidly. A crooked smirk tugs at his lips, and he takes a step back. His hand rises to his lips, his own finger rubbing his bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth, tasting me. It makes me feel so many things but nothing I can describe in detail. It’s all a blur of emotion.
“Don’t forget to wear the face mask.” He winks.
Curling my fingers into my palms, I grit my teeth to keep myself from screaming at him or throwing a fucking can of paint across the room.
“Change the fucking locks!” I shout after him, but he doesn’t respond before walking back out into the rain.
I’m going to have to work fast to get this fucking done today. I don’t know if he did it or someone else, but at the end of the day, if I want to keep working and living here, I have to fix it.
Let’s just chalk it up to hazing the new girl, and move on. I’ve seen it happen back home, it’s what clubs do to test one’s character.
This is a test. One I’m going to fucking pass with a middle finger high in the sky.
Assholes.
8
Delilah
Sun setting, my back aching and head splitting from concentrating so hard on fixing the paint job, I finally finish the fucking piece. It doesn’t look near as good as the first time I did it if you ask me, but it’s good. Throwing the mask off my face and onto the floor, I kick the spray gun out of my sight. I’m pissed. I should have had more time to fix this, and the way Thane told me to fix it like I was one of his prospects or something has me furious as ever. If anything, he should have been understanding and considerate, especially after what was done to my original artwork. Thane knows I didn’t do it, but again I’m thinking this was a test from someone within the club, and I just fucking passed. Hopefully now that I showed my dedication, things will settle. Stepping out of the bay, the scent of rain left over from the morning storm smells amazing it’s a scent different than when it rains in Los Angeles. I can’t describe it, but there’s a more earthy tone to it. Heading to the station across the street, I hear someone yelling, the voice carrying from behind the building, it sounds like a pissed-off woman. Looking over my shoulder to see if anyone’s around, I tiptoe closer to the side to hear what’s going on.
“That little bitch is from another club and I will be damned if she sticks around! I’ve told you not to settle down, and keep your fucking eyes on the gavel!”
“Mom, I have it under control!” Thane’s voice cuts through the air like a sword, making me tense. They’re talking about me, but is Thane defending me or agreeing with his mother that I need to go?
“Don’t mom me, I see the way you look at that little bitch. She should have been gone after that bike and she wasn’t…”
Well, Smurf is obviously not my biggest fan, I suspect she fucked up the bike trying to get me out of there. She knows I’m from a different club and I’m starting to suspect she knows about my brother fucking up Thane’s face when he was a kid. It would explain her vendetta toward me. Hearing enough, I slip back around the building and
go inside. A bell rings, alerting my presence, and the yelling from out back dulls to a loud whisper. I grab a six-pack of Bud Light and put it on the counter, I need something to relax my mind. Thane’s mother comes out from the back, the smell of weed following her, her eyes narrowing to near slits when she discovers I’m her customer. I could use a joint right now, I should ask to smoke with her, maybe that would calm her tits. We’d bond and shit, it’d be great. Setting the beer on the counter, we don’t break eye contact, the tension in the air thick as can be. She scans the case of beer and raises a brow.