Los Angeles
I rode in, past the gate guard, and could already see the clubhouse was busy, even though it was two in the morning. Bikes lined the parking lot, and I could hear the thumping of bass from the speakers inside before I’d even pulled off my helmet. I needed a party after this shitty week, even though really I didn’t want to deal with one.
Inside, the place was torn up, par for the course on a party night. The clubhouse wasn’t exactly the highest quality establishment ever, and I hadn’t been enforcing good order and discipline as much as I used to, back a year or so ago. Mad Dog had let in a couple of guys who were shitbags, one who I thought was using more of the meth than he should be, and Blaze was distracted, gone to Stanford half the time, banging Dani.
So parties, while they used to be just wild, had gotten out of control.
I surveyed the room, taking in the chaos. One of the mamas, Deb, was bent over the pool table where a group of bikers were running a train on her. Deb was into that kind of thing, luckily, but I wasn’t sure this new group of assholes Mad Dog had recruited gave a shit if the female was into it or not, and that made me nervous.
“Good to see you, brother,” Mad Dog said, clapping me on the shoulder as I walked inside. He reeked of cheap whiskey and cigarette smoke. I exhaled heavily. I was tired and didn’t want to deal with him tonight.
“Yeah, Prez. You too.”
“Been gone a while.”
I shook my head. “Went out for a ride.”
“Well,” he said. “You should be careful riding alone at night.” His voice sounded friendly, but nothing was ever really friendly with Mad Dog. There was always subtext.
“I’m always careful,” I said.
“Yeah, well, as long as you know where you got to come back to.” He sauntered off, back to the used up looking girl waiting for him. She giggled, tossing her bleached blonde hair over her shoulder and stumbling drunkenly into him before they staggered to the back room.
Mad Dog’s Old Lady wasn’t around. She was hands off, more and more lately, turning a blind eye to Mad Dog’s wandering one. Me, I would want my old lady to have the cojones to kick me in the nuts if I got out of line like that. I might be an asshole, but if I ever did find someone, I wouldn’t mess it all up screwing around on her with trash like that.
Sam walked over, hips swaying, jeans sitting so low on her hips I could see her thong inches above the waistband.
“Hey, Axe,” she said, her voice a sing-song. She stood close to me, her red lacquered fingernail tracing the seam on my cut. “I missed you, baby.”
“What the hell are you doing here, Sam?” I was done with her. I’d told her as much the other day.
Sam kissed me hard on the lips, and I tasted liquor on her breath. “Baby, you need to take me in the back room.”
“You need to get the hell out of here,” I said. “You’re not welcome.” Even when I said it, I could feel myself getting hard just looking at her. Damn it.
“Don’t be like that, baby,” Sam said. “I’m sorry for what happened.” She pouted. I hated when she did that. Then she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “I need you inside me.” She slid her palm against my cock, and I groaned.
“Give me a minute, Sam.” I needed to step back from her, remind myself why I wasn’t with her. She was hot, that was for sure, but she was also crazy. And an addict. And I kept getting sucked into her whirlwind when I was with her. Two days ago, we'd had a blowout, and I was gone. I was. Until she put coke on her nipples and told me to lick it off.
Sam pouted. “Do I have to find someone else?”
Pushing her away, I headed for the bar. “Do whatever you want, Sam. Maybe try going home.”
“You’re such an asshole, Axe.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her flounce to the other side of the room where she joined one of her girlfriends on the couch. I rolled my eyes. Sure, I was horny, but I didn’t need her brand of crazy tonight. I nodded at the prospect behind the bar. “Gimme a bottle of Jack.”
“You want a glass, man?”
“Just the bottle.”
The prospect raised his eyebrows. “One of those days?”
“Shut the fuck up.” He handed me the bottle and I took a swig, savoring the feeling of the alcohol burning on the way down my throat. That was better. “You seen Crunch around here anywhere?”
“Oh yeah, man, I saw him a couple hours ago. Haven’t seen him recently though." Crunch probably wasn't here. He wasn't much for the parties anymore. Having his kid had calmed him down a bit, at least where the fighting and the partying was concerned.
I hoped I’d be that way if I ever had a kid. More mellow.
I took another swig of the whiskey. Some father I’d make.
I caught Sam’s eye across the room, where she’d found the lap of one of the new patches and was giving him a full view of her tits in her tank top.
Christ, Sam knew how to piss me off.