King

“Oh stop it,” Preppy said. “Bear’s people are harmless now. You’ve staked your claim, flagged your territory, put your sausage in the onion ring. That’s all they care about. That’s bible to them. She won’t be fucked with. Besides, I’ll be there, and so will Bear, and so will you.”

 

“I’m not all that trusting of Bear these days,” I said. “It wasn’t a week ago that he was asking my girl to be his old lady.”

 

“But as I said, you gots it in. It’s all good, play playyyyyyy.”

 

“Preppy, how much coffee have you had this morning?” Doe asked.

 

“Not much, six, seven cups. Why?” He twitched his fingers like he was playing an imaginary piano.

 

“We can go, but you’re not to leave my fucking sight,” I told Doe. “I mean it. Either me or Preppy are with you at all times, got it? Worst case scenario, go to Bear, but I swear to god if he lays a hand on you, I will chop it the fuck off.”

 

It came out harsher than I intended, but I wasn’t fucking around. The reality of what could happen to her if she wondered off on her own was what was really harsh.

 

Not a motherfucker in that place would survive if they touched her. Just remembering what Ed had almost done made me want to kill that piece of shit all over again.

 

“Got it,” Doe said, recognizing the seriousness in my tone. She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I won’t go anywhere unless you or Preppy are with me.”

 

“Good.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

 

“So, what are we watching?” Preppy asked, leaning back on his elbows and crossing his feet at the ankles. “Ooh, Demolition Man. This is my jayum.”

 

“Get the fuck out,” I said, shoving him off the bed.

 

“You guys are no fucking fun,” Preppy pouted, picking himself up off the carpet. “You are all in lovers’ land and forgot all about ole Preppy over here.” He stuck out his lower lip and drooped his shoulders.

 

“Have the car ready in twenty,” I barked, throwing a pillow at his head.

 

“You mean the truck. My classic caddy is in a million little pieces, and ‘death by bomb’ isn’t covered by insurance,” Preppy said, dodging the pillow.

 

“You don’t fucking have insurance,” I said. Preppy didn’t believe in anything that kept him on the grid, no matter how illegal it was.

 

“But if I did, it wouldn’t cover it,” he said, waving us off and leaving the room.

 

“Remind me to get a deadbolt for that door,” I said.

 

“Oh, stop. Preppy’s great, just highly caffeinated,” Doe said in his defense.

 

“You can back out now if you’ve changed your mind. We can stay here and stay naked and watch whatever stupid movie you want, as long as we are naked while watching it. We don’t have to go to Bear’s party if you don’t think you will feel comfortable.”

 

“I want to get to know your friends better. I want to get out of the house for a while. I want it all.” Doe smiled. “And I want it with you.”

 

I wanted to puff out my chest and beat on it like a gorilla. Her words were empowering. She wanted it all.

 

With me.

 

I felt so good about where we were and where we were heading that I almost felt okay about living the rest of my life lying to her.

 

Almost.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

 

 

 

King

 

 

Bear’s clubhouse was an old two-story apartment complex with a courtyard in the center and a small, kidney-shaped pool that had been graffitied a million times over.

 

Plastic patio chairs with gaping holes in the seats and backs, some missing legs, were scattered everywhere. A few were floating upside down in the deep end the pool in a foot of green sludgy water. There was no sophisticated speaker system. An ancient boom box sat on top of a small round table blaring Johnny Cash. Its cord ran into the shallow water of the pool and across the courtyard where it was plugged into a wall outlet inside one of the rooms.

 

Scantily clad women were everywhere, and bikers of all ages, shapes, and sizes lingered about in various states of drunkenness. Two muscle heads wearing their cuts with nothing but their bare chests underneath, arm-wrestled in the corner on top of an overturned laundry basket.

 

Two women with matching bleach blonde hair, both topless, were making out on the second floor balcony against the railing, while a skinny prospect stood close by looking on with heavily lidded lust filled eyes, with a hard-on he wasn’t even trying to hide, straining against his jeans.

 

Bear was the first person to greet us. “King, you motherfucker!” he shouted, standing in the open doorway of one of the motel rooms, his arm draped around the neck of a girl with innocent chubby looking cheeks, but a very weary look in her eyes. “In here!” He waved us over and practically shoved the girl out of the room. She would have landed face-first on the concrete if Preppy hadn’t caught her and set her back on her feet.

 

“Thanks,” she said, looking up at Preppy. Preppy scrunched his nose as if he was confused by her thanks, then stepped around her. She looked back at him as she walked away.

 

“What the fuck was that?” I asked.