DAMON: A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel (43 page)

O
ne more drink
turned into three, turned into another fishbowl for me and Becky, turned into two light beers for Alicia, who we were still keeping an eye on. She’d sobered up considerably, though, and was actually using real words and full sentences. Plus, she seemed to have picked up on my M.O. for the night and had backed off flirting with Boon, instead playing her version of a wingman, which was admittedly a little embarrassing.

“Samantha, tell that story about you and the saltines,” she’d say, draping an arm over me. Rolling my eyes and laughing, I remembered it as just another goofy high school antic. Boon leaned in, though, seeming interested.

“It’s really not that great a story,” I said, blushing at his interest.

“It’s actually a pretty good story. One of Missoula’s best, I’d say,” Becky said demurely, pulling her own weight in this apparently collective effort to score me a kiss with Mr. Heartthrob. Boon’s eyes danced, obviously amused and eager to hear.

“It’s
really
not that great a story,” I repeated, burying my head in my hands. It really wasn’t that great a story, by the way, it was just one of my
only
stories.

“So, you know saltines? Like, for soup? Well, they always gave them out at lunchtime, you know, and so Samantha here had this brilliant idea of hording saltines all senior year for…what? What was your plan, again?” Alicia nudged me, laughing at how red my face was.

“I was going to throw them all in the swimming pool,” I said, gritting my teeth.
This story is so dumb, he is going to think I’m such a loser…

“Oh, right, yeah, chlorine soup! So, Samantha’s big idea for the senior prank is to fill the school swimming pool with saltines. Which would have been a pretty good one, I’ll admit, even though I’ll never understand why you didn’t want to just
buy
a lot of saltines, like a normal person…”

“Wait, wait, your school has a swimming pool? I didn’t know they had those at high schools,” Boon said with a laugh. Becky nodded emphatically.

“Oh yeah, we have the best swim team in the state,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice. It occurred to me that we were still so attached to our ra-ra high school mentality that we still wanted to take pride in dumb things like having a good swim team. None of us were even on the swim team.

“Anyway, so Samantha is hustling these saltines every day at lunch, and she’s hording them all in her locker. Like, why bring them home? You can just stuff saltines in your locker, right? That makes so much sense,” Alicia said, sarcasm dripping. Boon chuckled again and I caught his eye, the blush still in full bloom.

“But, like, there’s only so many saltines one locker can hold,” Becky said demurely, a mischievous grin on her face.

“And we keep telling her, like, yo, Samantha, girl, take those damn saltines out of your locker before it explodes! But, of course, Sammy never listens to her friends. Even when they are totally right. So, anyway, it’s almost April and Samantha’s locker is so full of saltines that she can’t even keep her books in it anymore, and she only opens it to throw more saltines in.

Until one day this dealer kid gets caught with a bunch of pills, and all the parents in town start
freaking
out about it, and they decide to do a full sweep of everyone’s locker to find out if anyone else is dealing on school grounds,” Alicia said, her eyes getting wider and her voice louder as she told the story.

“But, of course, they do it right in the middle of the day, with no warning!” Becky said, joining in with a giggle.

“So when they get to dear Samantha’s locker, you can just about see her pissing her pants, and there’s just this absolute
deluge
of saltines flying from everywhere. The principle, all the teachers, they’re all standing around while all these individually wrapped saltines just flow out of the locker, for like, a good minute and a half, just all making this huge messy pile on the floor. Finally, it slows to a trickle and everyone is just standing looking at Samantha and all these saltines, and…”

“And the principle turned to me and asked me ‘what on earth is this?’ and all I could think so say is ‘crackers’, but I say it really soft so he goes ‘what?’ and suddenly I just freak out and yell ‘CRACKERS’ right in the middle of the hallway and everyone just goes nuts,” I said, finishing the story with a bang. Boon was eating it up, a big grin on his face, his eyes locked on mine.

“But the best part of the story,” Becky said, leaning back, “is that the school administration decided that Samantha hadn’t broken any rules but that she definitely needed to be punished, so they made her head of the anti-drug poster project, making posters for the school hallways to discourage kids from doing drugs.”

“And let me guess…” Boon said, his eyes still on me, drink halfway to his oh-so-kissable lips.

“Why try crack when you can have crackers?”

“Don’t snack on crack!”

“Buy crackers, not crack.”

“Choose a saltier high.”

“Say yes to crackers, say nope to dope,” I said, finishing out the story with a hearty flourish. Becky, Alicia, and I were all in a fit now, almost crying from laughing so hard. Boon was laughing, too, though not quite as hard.

“Okay, okay, come on. Now, you’ve got to have some awesome high school stories,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes and returning to my staring contest with Boon. His smile faded a bit and he took a long swallow from his drink.

“Nope, never went to high school,” he said, clearly feeling a little awkward.

“Oh, did you get your GED or home schooling or something?” Alicia asked cheerfully.

“Nah, school just wasn’t for me,” Boon said, breaking eye contact and looking out over the crowd.

“Didn’t your parents get upset?” Becky asked. I could tell she was getting pretty drunk; sober Becky is usually pretty tactful, and this was clearly a subject that Boon didn’t want to dwell on.

“Well, I guess you could say I just got drafted into the family business, so no. My dad didn’t even want me going. Said it would pollute my mind,” Boon said. “So, ladies, are you still looking for some, eh, party favors?”

We looked at him, dumbfounded, none of us quite sure what he meant. He chuckled again and shook his head slowly.

“Man, you girls are too cute. You still want weed?”

“Oh, yes! Please! Oh my god, that’s like, the whole reason I came on this trip!” Alicia squealed. I wasn’t so interested in the weed, but I was definitely interested in going wherever Boon was going.

“Okay, little miss, but you should know, the guys I hang around with aren’t the sort of guys you’re probably used to,” Boon said, his brow suddenly furrowing. I could feel Becky tensing up beside me. She smelled danger. So did I, but I ignored it. Like the smell of smoke that tells you your house is burning down, I ignored it.

“What do you mean?” I asked, jumping in before Becky could protest.

“Oh, they’ll treat you alright, if you’re with me. But they’re…a rough crowd,” Boon said tactfully. My stomach did a flip-flop. Was this going to be worth it? Putting myself at risk – for what? For a make-out with a stranger? There were
tons
of strangers around me. I could pick anyone else at that bar and get the same thing I could get from Boon. Except…not really. I knew he was different. I knew because I’d never wanted anyone before.

And I wanted him.

“Well, I’m not afraid,” Alicia said, straightening up in her seat and gathering her purse. “Shall we?”

“Guys, I don’t know,” Becky said, sipping her drink and looking at us with nervous eyes.

“Trust me, it’s perfectly safe,” Boon said, looking at Becky. She softened under his assured gaze, much to my relief. With all of us on board, we closed out our tab and took to the streets.

T
he night was warm
, and the strip was packed with bodies in varying states of inebriation. Boon led us, swerving left and right, down side-streets and alleys. As we walked, we allowed ourselves to be swept away in the beautiful night and our own semi-drunk states, singing at the top of our lungs and laughing all the way. Becky was a little sketched out, but I had to admit I was proud of her for even making it this far. Generally, Becky liked to stay close to the shore.

Finally, we arrived at a small, seedy-looking bar that had rows upon rows of motorcycles parked out front. The neighborhood was comparatively quiet, for Las Vegas at least, and I worried for a second about being able to find our way home.
Or being raped and left for dead,
said the worrying voice in the very back of my head. I pushed it away and followed Boon into the dimly lit bar, the smell of cigarettes and old beer assaulting my nostrils as soon as I entered.

There were probably thirty or so older men sitting around the bar, which had two female bartenders. Everyone was dressed in black leather. This was the first time I’d ever been in a “biker bar”, and I found myself blushing. Alicia, Becky, and I definitely didn’t fit in with our short party dresses and high heels. Every man in the bar turned to look at us as the door slammed shut behind us. They were all smiling, some innocently, some not-so-innocently.

It seemed like Boon knew everyone in the bar; he walked from table to table giving out high-fives and handshakes. We all followed; I could feel Becky’s anxiety baking off her, while Alicia, to her credit, acted like she totally belonged there, not a care in the world. Finally, we found ourselves at the long bar.

“What’ll it be?” Asked the young, attractive bartender, giving Boon a huge smile. I tried not to notice the way she rolled her eyes a bit when she glanced at me and my friends.

“Four of your cheapest beers, please, ma’am,” Boon said, smiling back at the bartender, his impossibly white teeth gleaming in the dim lighting. That smile…it made me forget where I was, who I was with, what I was doing.

The bartender doled out one beer apiece and we moved to the back of the bar, taking a table that was already occupied by two younger guys, probably in their late twenties.

“We got any grass to spare?” Boon said, not even introducing us or his friends. The two guys looked Alicia, Becky, and I over slowly, taking their time with each one of us, their feelings about us not concealed at all. They were impressed. And maybe a little hopeful.
Dream on, boys,
I thought, sipping my beer. Becky was never going to give anything to someone who wouldn’t call her his girlfriend, and Alicia might be a boy-loving party-girl but she wasn’t exactly a slut, either. And me, well, I already knew who I was planning on ending the night with.

“For you? Sure. Always, my man,” one of the boys said, leaning back and pulling a baggie full of odorous green stuff from his back pocket. He threw it on the table, not a care in the world about the fact that marijuana is, in fact, still very illegal in the state of Nevada. Boon picked up the baggie and held it to his nose, breathing deeply.

“Ah, shit, this is that Bubblegum stuff, isn’t it? That we got from the Rattlesnakes? This is perfect. Anyone got papers?” Boon looked at the three of us and winked, that smile still lighting up his face. I felt woozy, and it wasn’t from the beer or the weird environment.

The guy who had thrown the weed on the table pulled a package of rolling papers out of the other pocket and tossed them to Boon, who began to pick at the marijuana.

“So, you girls indulge often?” He asked, his attention fairly focused on the joint he was rolling.

“Never, actually. This is just for Alicia here. It’s her goal for the trip,” I said, leaning forward and admiring Boon’s nimble fingers and the flick of his tongue over the paper.

“Oh? And what are your goals, ladies?” Asked the other boy at the table, the one who hadn’t spoken yet. His eyes glimmered like he was expecting something crazy to come out of our mouths. Something like “have a six-person orgy in the backroom of a biker bar,” I’d assume.

“I just wanted to gamble. And I did. I lost twenty bucks,” Becky said, finally relaxing as she sipped her beer and leaned back into the seat.

“And you, Samantha?” Boon asked, finally meeting my eyes as he finished up with the joint. I blushed, my heart racing, as I tried to decide whether or not to lie. I decided that this trip was about growth. Old Samantha would be embarrassed and lie. New Samantha was better than that.

“Make out with a stranger,” I said, as boldly as I could manage.

A wicked grin passed over Boon’s face. He held the joint out to Alicia, his eyes not moving from my own. “Ladies first,” he said, brandishing a lighter as Alicia held the joint to her lips.

“Right here in the bar?” Becky asked, mouth open in a comical look of shock.

“Trust me, honey, don’t no one here give a damn,” said one of the other boys. I noticed they were both looking at me with a similar look to the one Boon was giving me, and it made me blush even harder.

Alicia took a deep inhale and immediately began coughing and gagging; Becky pounded on her back while the boys laughed and several other men at the bar turned to our table.

“Try again, little sister, and this time hold it in,” Boon said. There was something in his voice that was so patient and kind that it really contrasted his bad-boy appearance. I felt my heart melting just a little more.

Alicia sucked in again, this time holding in the smoke, then exhaled loudly, a plume of fragrant smoke rising over the table. The three boys applauded, joined by some other patrons who were watching, and Alicia beamed, handing the joint back to Boon. He sucked in deeply before passing to the boy who had provided the weed. The joint made its way around the table and Alicia hit it once more, her eyes glassy. She was giggling pretty much non-stop, and the boys were looking at her in amusement.

“So, what do you think?” Boon said at last, taking a deep inhale of his own.

“I like it. I feel goofy. Everything is slowed down. You guys should try it,” Alicia said, her words coming out slurry but clear, turning to us with a huge grin on her face. Becky rolled her eyes and looked at me; I just shrugged.

“Well, I’ll pass, thanks. Someone here needs to stay in control,” she said, taking another sip of her beer.

“Samantha?” Boon said, holding the joint out to me. I thought of my father, the sheriff, and what he would think of me at that moment. Dad was actually fairly liberal, and wasn’t really against marijuana, it was just his job to enforce the law. Still, I thought that he wouldn’t be too happy about me trying it; then again, he probably wouldn’t be terribly disappointed, either. Making a split decision, I nodded my head.

Boon smiled and handed me the joint; I looked at it somewhat nervously, more afraid of looking stupid trying to smoke it than I did about what would actually happen if I did. I held it to my lips and inhaled deeply; the thick, smelly smoke hit my lungs like a baseball bat and I coughed, feeling like I was going to throw up.

I shook my head, still coughing, but was determined to give it another go, if only to make up for my rather pathetic first attempt. Holding the burning joint to my lips again, I took a deep inhale, this time pushing away the desire to cough. Across the table, Boon’s gaze was open and friendly, and I watched as he grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, coolly slipping one into his mouth.

Slip me into your mouth,
I thought, seemingly out of nowhere, as I watched him. I blindly handed the joint to the boy sitting next to me, exhaling slowly. The smell was actually kind of pleasant, and I looked around with glazed-over eyes, seeing everything as if for the first time.

The noise in the bar seemed dulled. The music coming from the jukebox suddenly seemed impossibly beautiful. I wasn’t scared. I felt warm, and giddy, and excited, and deep. It was like I was thinking from another part of my brain, one I’d somehow never even known was there. Everything seemed more real and more ridiculous at the same time, and I had trouble focusing on anything, including the conversation happening around me.

Alicia and I looked at each other and giggled. Boon was talking to the two other boys. Becky was just staring at us like we were from another planet. Suddenly, I felt a jolt of fear out of nowhere as a man came up to the table, standing behind Boon. Boon turned and looked up at the man; he was much bigger, bulkier, and hairier than Boon, but had some of Boon’s good looks. Same blonde hair, same blue eyes, same slanted nose.

“Who are your new friends?” the man said, directing the question to Boon. Boon seemed a little on edge around this man, but he introduced us each in turn. I knew I had a stupid smile on my face, but couldn’t seem to get rid of it for anything. Even when I rose to shake the man’s hand and felt myself withering under his cold stare, I couldn’t wipe that dumb smile off my face.

“Pleasure,” the man said before turning back to Boon. “Can I talk to you for a minute, son? In private?”

Boon got up, clearly agitated, and retreated to a dark corner of the bar with the older man, who I took to be his father. The two boys at the table exchanged knowing looks.

“Who’s that?” Becky asked.

“Tank. His dad, our leader,” one of the boys said, raising his beer to his lips and taking a deep swig. “Could be trouble.”

Leader?
I thought to myself dazedly, looking around the bar.
Oh. It’s a club,
I thought, finding myself surprised that I hadn’t realized that earlier. Now that I was looking around, I saw all the men had similar tattoos and patches on their vests and jackets: the patches read “Cold Steel MC” and featured an image of a skull with glowing blue eyes.
Cool,
I thought. This was obviously a result of the weed and alcohol: sober Samantha, with her law-enforcement Daddy, knew enough about motorcycle clubs to know they were no sort of good.

“What kind of trouble?” Alicia asked, leaning forward, intrigued. I was intrigued, too. Everything seemed really, really intriguing. Especially the way the light hit the bar at that angle…

I nearly missed the conversation while I was dazedly admiring the light. When I shook my head, returning to reality, I had missed the beginning of whatever the boy was saying.

“…little pleasure trip. But not for Boon. He’s got some beef with his pop. To be honest, he’s got beef with everyone. Not, you know, in a bad way. We love him. He’s just…different. Tank’s probably pissed he brought you around,” he said.

“Why? What’s wrong with us?” I asked, my mouth struggling to form words. I drank my beer quickly, suddenly realizing how thirsty I was. The two boys grinned at each other.

“Nothing. You just ain’t our type of girls,” one said, with a chuckle.

“Any of you been on a bike before?” the other said, a knowing look in his eyes. I didn’t like that look; it was demeaning.

“Actually, yes. We all have. You ever heard of Beartooth Rally? We all went last year,” I said, lying through my teeth. It was surprisingly easy to lie in my current state. It also wasn’t that big a lie; we
had
all ridden motorcycles before. There’s not much to do in Montana, and taking a quick ride on the back of your Dad’s bike, or uncle’s bike, or boyfriend’s bike, or friend’s boyfriend’s bike, was a popular way to spend an afternoon.

Alicia and Becky looked at me wide-eyed, and I prayed they’d go along with the lie. In true best friend fashion, they did.

“Yeah, I love bikes,” Alicia said, grinning ear to ear at me.

“No big deal,” Becky added, doing her part. Boon came up to the table just at that moment and took his seat back, a dour look on his face.

“Get reamed?” one of the boys asked with a genuine look of concern.

“Nah. Just got some info on that job in Cody,” Boon said, shaking his head.

“You’re not about that, are you? Gotta say, some of us aren’t, either,” said the other boy. The three guys were having their own conversation, ignoring us entirely, and I was getting really curious. Worried that my current state would lead me to pry, I busied myself with drinking my beer. Boon lit another cigarette.

“Yeah, well, some of us ain’t all of us, and if Tank says we do it, we do it,” he said, as though he were reciting lines from a play. He turned back to us, attempting to smile. It was something of a failure; the concern stayed etched in his face.

“So, ladies, where to next? You don’t wanna stick around here with these assholes all night, do you?”

“Actually, I hate to be ‘that girl’, but I’m really getting awfully tired,” Becky said. I could tell she was being honest, and that she felt bad about being a buzz-kill. To be honest, I was getting tired, too. The pot had gone straight to my head and, in conjunction with the more-than-usual amount of alcohol I’d had, I was finding myself getting pretty sleepy.

“Me too,” Alicia slurred, her eyes half-lidded already. Boon nodded, not looking disappointed but also not looking happy. I looked at my phone. It was 2am. I was amazed; how had time slipped by so fast? It was definitely time to get going.

“Okay, girls, a cab?” I said, thinking that none of us would be able to find our way back to the hotel, and that if I had to walk a whole block in my heels I’d probably wind up sleeping on the street.

“I’ll call you one,” Boon said, pulling out his phone. After a brief conversation, he hung up. “Fifteen minutes.”

“Just enough time to pee,” I said, giggling at the way the word “pee” sounded. It sounded very, very funny to me. I got up, wobbling slightly, and looked around for the restroom. Boon pointed behind him, and I saw a narrow corridor with a unisex bathroom sign. It was tucked away in a dark corner, and I would never have found it on my own.

I smiled at him and made my way towards the bathroom, feeling lightheaded and giddy. I nearly fell over trying to pull down my panties and sit down, but I managed to pee and wipe without any disaster befalling me. As I washed my hands, I looked into the caked-over, cracked mirror. I looked exactly like I felt: a little tired, a little overwhelmed, a little lust-struck. My make-up was smudged in a way that I thought looked a lot like a Covergirl ad.
I look hot,
I thought to myself, in surprise.