Perfectly Bad: a bad boy romance (27 page)

It would be a bad plan to be rude to the club’s guests but, since Cox had pronounced me his old lady, Snori and Trols were stomping on the club rules and its hospitality by coming on to me. Maybe neither Jurgen nor Bent had told them. Without too much of a smile I said, “I’m with Cox.”

Snori said, “Oh we heard something about it.” And Trols chimed in,

“Didn’t seem like it was too official, though.”

I said, “Maybe you’d like to check with Cox. I’ll see if I can find him.”

Snori’s big paw held my arm. Lifted me enough to hurt my shoulder. His wiry beard scraped against my ear and he said, “No need for that. I told you we only wanted some fun.”

Trols crowded in closer and I heard him say, “You are overreacting, little girly.” Against my thigh I felt the cold touch of that evil blade in his belt.

And then Snori’s voice was close enough to feel his breath on my neck. My shoulder felt like it would rip apart as he lifted me a little higher, “You don’t want to be rude to the club’s guests, sugar tits.” Snori’s other big hand helped itself to a tour up my skirt and into my panties.
 

The noise from inside the clubhouse rose as the door opened. Cap, one of the prospects came out and said, “Ah, Nikka, Cox is looking for you.” Snori let go. Snori and Trols narrowed their eyes at me as I scurried back in. I touched Cap on his arm as I passed.

Signs and Signifiers

It took me a while to find Cox. When I did find him, I had the distinct impression he hadn’t been looking for me, that was just Cap being a hero. Cox looked distinctly like he had recently unentangled himself from the redhead who’d given Snori and Trols their big welcome.

As far as I could tell, she was wearing heels, sweat, beer and cum.

Crash This Train

I tried to talk to Cox, but he avoided me. I spent about an hour, padding around after him like that, him sliding away. In the end, I got bored and decided to drive home.

On my way home I got stopped by officer Drebben. He found a half-smoked joint and enough coke for about a quarter of a line in my glove box. I felt a complete idiot because I’m damned sure I didn’t have to let him search it. Being the police chief’s daughter, I got sloppy, thinking Daddy would just show up and make it all go away.

Next thing I know, I’m in a cold gray room with metal furniture and some FBI dragon lady with a bob of red hair, leaning over the table, all hot and excited about how I’m going to wear a wire.

I told her, ‘No way,’ about a thousand times, but she scared me half to death with talk of criminal associations, common purpose and federal time, and saying numbers of years that kept on going up. In my heart I knew it was probably all BS, but she did get me twitching.

Someday Never Comes

There was much work to be done with the shipment. Most club members worked long hours in the shop out back with oil, screwdrivers and small wrenches. It took two days straight to prepare the merchandise. Drinking was discouraged for Savage MC members, although the Vikings continued to fully enjoy an open bar.

When it was ready, Bogart, Cox and Hacker took a few prospects, hauled the crates into a truck and made the run over to
The Meathook
, the bar and whorehouse owned and operated by
Los Muertos MC
.
 

All went well right up until the time came for payment.

Standing in the arc lights by the truck at the loading bay in back of the
Meathook
, Jake told Bogart, “Look, we had a setback. We haven’t got your full payment for the hardware. So. Take something in trade. We’ll make it up on the next run.”

Bogart was very still, and he spoke slowly and quietly. “We’ve got all of your coke, right? So what do you propose? No offense, but I don’t want any of your weed.”

“Take two girls, man. I know they could help in your clubhouse. Look, they’re beautiful girls. What’s the problem, man?”

“Jake, we buy your coke because we’re in the coke business, and yours is the beat damn coke around. We’re also in the weed business, but we don’t buy your weed because we get better weed from elsewhere. Matter of fact, you should buy your weed from us. You’d have better weed. Only, you would have to pay for it. Just like the hardware.”

Jake looked around at his compadres. Bogart talking to him this way in front of the others wasn’t making him look good. He should have done this in private. Too late now. Bogart wondered if Jake would be dumb enough to make a beef over it. Unlikely, he guessed.

Bogart went on, his voice still quiet, reasonable, but firm, “We don’t buy your women, because we ain’t in the buying and selling women business. No disrespect, OK? You do your business your way, we do it ours. The girls who work in our clubhouse do it because they want to do it. You’re going to have to think of something else. But you’re fifty short, so you need to think fast.”

Jake opened his hands, “Man, we been doing business a long time. Why can’t you roll it this one time?”

Bogart looked back at him through the shades, “There’s a rule; don’t ask for credit, as a refusal can often be fatal. Twenty four hours, OK? And because of out history, I won’t add interest before then.”

Jake came back at him, “Look, Bogart, take a party with this girl in the back, just for my gratitude. I think you’re going to want to take her home but if you don’t, no problemo.”

Bogart said, “No problemo.”

When Jake went inside, Cox said quietly, “Theirs is the best damn coke around?”

Bogart looked at him through the shades, “Best damn coke at that price on this block.”

Hacker said, “This girl’s bound to be some skank, too. Some poor wretch from the barrios.”

Bogart agreed. “I’m only going in there because I don’t want to insult him any more.”

Cox sapped Bogart on the shoulder, “You don’t? How civil of you, old chap.”

Bogart said, “Nope. Not before the twenty four hours are up I don’t. He was looking a little tense there. After that, if need be I’ll insult him with a chainsaw.”

Hacker said, “Pardon me mentioning it but, didn’t we just give them all our RPGs?”

“Yup. Heavy machine guns too. Oh, wait. Did I remember to load up the ammo?”

Cox laughed, “You sly fuck! You knew this was going to happen.”

“Never set out without a fuckup plan.”

Hacker was rubbing his chin, “You got a plan for how we’re going to square the Norwegians?”

“I don’t know, Hacks, ask me a few more stupid questions, maybe I’ll offer them your ears.”

Riders on the Storm

Bogart’s voice was low and hard as he looked the girl over. “You’re Angelica?” Tall, stacked. Beautiful eyes with a hungry look.

He told her, “You’re a gift. From Jake to me. A ‘thank you’ for good business.” She stood pressed into the corner of the tiny, airless room. He took off the black shades. His dark, smoldering eyes traced her thighs and her tight butt in the frayed little denim cut-offs. Her big, soft breasts swelled and heaved, naked under the loose, low-cut tee as his eyes lingered and feasted on the rise and fall of her quaking curves.

His wiry black hair, pulled back tight into a high pony tail, gave him a look like a Chinese martial arts guy. Over a black hoodie, he wore a black leather sleeveless motorcycle jacket.
 

When he’d turned to shut the door behind him, she saw his motif of gang colors on the back.
Savage MC
didn’t mean anything to her, except a motorcycle club.
 

She did see the patch on his chest that said
President
. A heavy chain hung through the belt loops. Pull it out of the loops, swing it around, looked like it would make a fearsome weapon.
 

It looked to her like below the heavy silver buckle there was a fearsome weapon in the front of his black leather pants too. The tattoo on his cheekbone, the
Savage MC
‘S’ with a dagger through it, sent a chill down her back.

He stood in the doorway, the door closed behind him. Just the two of them in the little wooden room. Airless and dim, only a small lamp on a table in the corner and a bigger table in the middle. And a bed.
 
No windows.

Her big brown eyes burned at him and her husky Mexican accent stumbled awkwardly over the English as she said, “Does it matter at all whether I want to be your ‘gift’?”

He looked down into her face and said, “Nope. Not a bit.” She bit her lip. He said, “If you don’t, well, Jake said I should fuck you anyway. ’Cause you need breaking in, he says. An extra part of the gift.”

Her breathing was hard. He was big and she was small. She knew that she couldn’t have stopped him. He could have had her little tee and shorts off in no time. Do whatever he wanted with her. The thought made her breath catch. Thinking what he might do. The bulge in the front of his black leather pants was huge. Had to have been one hell of a big cock straining inside there.

Only three days before, she was dancing at her cousin’s wedding in her home village. Her uncle Cesar made a big speech to her parents and his other two brothers and their wives.
 

She was in the room when he gave the great news. That all of the girl children were going north to cross the border. Come to the USA. He had arranged people to escort them safely. Their, ‘Great Opportunity,’ was what he called it.