These Bianci people were a pain in my ass but they sure were fun to fuck with.
I turned around and shoved my finger in front of Maria’s nose.
“I’ll be back. Don’t. Fucking. Move.”
“Where are you going?”
“To pick up your damn daughter, because someone upstairs…” I pointed my index finger to the ceiling, “…wants to keep fucking testing my patience with you people.”
It was her turn to shove her accusing finger in my face.
“You’re going to the hospital to pick her up? Just…don’t talk to anyone. I’m warning you, you better behave yourself and not embarrass her. Lauren has worked very hard to get where she is and the last thing she needs is some scoundrel like you, messing things up for her with your crude mouth and poor manners,” she said.
Was this bitch serious?
“I’ll try not to piss on the floors of the hospital and promise not to pick my nose in front of any hotshot doctors,” I sneered, shaking my head in disgust.
She should only know how deep my manners go.
I stalked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind me and glanced at the address Mia had given me. Fucking bullshit.
I typed the address into the GPS of the cage I was driving because I was in the middle of Bumblefuck New York, full of winding roads and fucking deer. I was waiting for that to happen next because why not add killing Bambi to this wretched night.
I whimpered as I drove, feeling sorry for myself and slammed my hand against the steering wheel.
I just wanted my bike and the open road.
And maybe a blowjob.
That would be nice.
Lauren’s pretty, pink lips, wrapped nice and tight around my dick and those blue eyes peeking up at me over the frames of her glasses. Shit. Where the fuck did that come from?
Get your shit together, Riggs.
“You’ve arrived at your destination,” the GPS alerted, and I’m not going to lie, she sounded hot too.
I needed to get laid.
Or I needed to go to bed.
Something. Anything.
The Pink Pussycat was packed, people stood in line waiting to get inside even at three a.m., apparently making it a happening joint for the people of Bumblefuck. I moved to the front of the line and a big brut of a guy stood there, staring down at me.
“Line’s back there,” the beast said.
“That’s nice, move aside,” I replied, stepping around him but he mimicked my move and blocked me again.
I glanced at the heavens.
“Why?” I shouted into the dark sky.
No one answered.
Pussy.
Shit, I was probably going to hell for that one.
I looked back at the beast of a bouncer who raised an eyebrow at me, and was tempted to tell him he looked like Michael Clarke Duncan, but I needed to focus. I took a deep breath and opened my cut for him to see the gun I had tucked into my waistband.
“Listen, bud, I’ve had the night from hell and I’m ten seconds away from losing it, so move the fuck out of my way and let me do what the fuck I came here to do,” I growled, reaching for the gun.
He crossed his arms, glanced at my gun, and shook his head completely unfazed.
“Pretty please, with sugar on top?” I tried. Nothing. “Fuck! The name “Tony Soprano” mean anything to you? Shit, I mean, fuck, what’s his name…Pastore.” The burley bouncer remained unmoved. That’s it. I can’t take anymore. “Bro, get the fuck out of my way, seriously, I have to get one of the girls that works here, I’m her ride.”
“Who?”
“Lauren Bianci,” I huffed. That fucking last name was nothing but trouble.
“Shit, man, why didn’t you say so?” He pounded me on the back and smiled. “Lauren’s my girl, love that chick, always makes me smile,” he said, with an actual smile. “Go on in. She’s working the bar tonight.”
I think I muttered a thank you, I’m not sure, but I brushed past him and stepped foot into the loud bar that was packed beyond capacity. It took me five minutes, pushing my way through the crowd toward the bar that was surrounded mostly by men that were hooting and hollering.
What was the big fuss?
I squeezed my way between two jocks screaming for their turn to be next and caught a glimpse of what had every guy in this joint begging to be next.
The girl next door was on her knees, crawling the length of the bar, from one lucky bastard to another. She poured the liquor straight from the bottle into some lucky bastard’s mouth.