He looks at me, his head cocked to the side as he thinks of how to proceed, “I get around, if that’s what you’re asking. It’s part of the job description.” He must sense me coiling away from that, because he quickly adds, “But it’s like I said, I ain’t had that good of a fuck in a goddamn long-ass time…”
Cal sits back down next to me and places his head on my shoulder. Another arm wraps around my waist and then under my panties. I feel the rough tip of his index finger find my wet and worn slit as he massages around it. His hot, sweet breath against my neck makes every bit of me tingle in anticipation.
I can sense he’s about to say something else when I watch his head dart up. Like a dog on alert, he’s heard or spotted something. And his reflexes are back at it again. Before I can figure out what is going on, he’s on his feet and at the door.
My heart begins to race as I run to my feet and grab the dress on the floor. I've got just enough time to pull it over me and zip up the back about half way when I hear it – the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
He turns and whispers to me urgently as he grabs the lights, “Shit! Don’t say a fucking word. Just let me talk. Okay?”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat that has been there since I walked in the door nearly two hours ago. I tense up and flinch as I hear the pounding of fists on the door. Someone is shouting Cal’s name, but it’s muffled over the sound from downstairs. Cal walks over and places an ear to the door. After a second, and without hesitation, he flings it open. A bald man with face tattoos is staring back at him, his eyes burning with anger and excitement. When he sees me, he bristles, his back arching and his eyes leering at me.
Without looking away, he demands, “What the fuck are you doing up here, Cal? Jager’s been looking for you.” His voice is grisly and suspicious. Something about him tells me that he’s not Cal’s best friend in this club.
“I’m coming down, Ryan. I just had to make sure Maddie was okay. Give me a second.”
The man doesn’t. Instead, he walks inside, stepping over Cal’s leg. He comes closer to me, examining me. I know I should look away, like how they warn you to never stare a rabid dog in the eye, but I’m not one to back down either. And if I’ve learned anything from dealing with Cal, it’s that it’s better to stand my ground than run and hide.
After a long, agonizing second, Ryan turns back to Cal, his arms outstretched towards me, “Who’s the bitch? And what’s she doing here?”
“She’s Maddie’s teacher. She came over for a teacher conference. I was asking her to stay here with Maddie since the girls seemed occupied downstairs.” Cal walks fully into the room, his back towards the door. It’s defensive, as if he needs to be closer to me in case Ryan attacks.
“Put her in Maddie’s room and get the fuck downstairs.” He takes a few steps towards the door before Cal grabs him with his long arms. He swings him into the wall and pushes him up so the two are locked together. I let out a frightened yelp, unsure what I was supposed to do. Cal looks ready to kill him.
He barks into Ryan’s face, “Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do? You may be the second enforcer in command, but I’m still the Vice. And you don’t fucking mess with me or my company. Do you fucking understand me, Ryan?” When Ryan doesn’t answer Cal, I watch in horror as Cal pulls out a small switchblade and holds it to his jacket. “I've got all the power to cut this fucking badge off right now. You better damn well answer me when I ask you a question.”
Ryan stiffens and swallows, his eyes lowering to the ground. His voice is tense and measured as he replies solemnly, “Yes, sir. I understand.”
Cal drops him to the ground, the man stumbling to catch his fall. He heads out the door as Cal yells back to him, “You better not fucking forget it, Ryan!”
I realize I’ve walked backwards towards the wall myself. My hands are gripping for something to support as I try to piece this all together. Here was this guy, a great father by all means, but he’s dangerous. So dangerous people shoot at him and his own friends get a knife to their body if they don’t obey. What have I gotten myself into?
Cal looks at me amused. I’m sure he’s used to girls who are accustomed to this type of life and can handle a little Friday night shootout at the clubhouse, but I’m not that kind of girl at all. I don’t want to be that girl.
I whisper meekly, “I would like to go home now, Cal.”
“I told you, Michelle. You can’t go home. They’ll be looking for you there.”
He’s explained this before, but I’m still not satisfied. I’m not safe wherever I go. I can’t stay here. I can’t go home. What the hell am I supposed to do to actually be safe? I slip slowly to the ground, finding the cold floors with the palms of my hands.