As I pull up my jeans, Dolly fingers her hair, trying to right herself.
“You know, you might not realize it, Zeek, but you and I are a match in the devil’s game.” I give a wry laugh in response. “Think about it. You killed your dad, tried to kill your brother. I killed both my parents. We’re alone, and nobody trusts us.” She turns around, applying lipstick to her swollen mouth.
My chest breathes fire with her talking as if she knows me. “Get out.” I point at the door, my nostrils flaring.
“I’m just saying that you can try and bounce between these girls, but you and I—”
“Get. The. Fuck. OUT!” I shout, my biceps flexing with anger. Her eyes narrow as she jerks the door open, slamming it behind her.
I gotta stop fucking with these common bitches.
Sitting back on the bed, trying to calm myself, I run my hands through my hair swiftly. I killed my father, yes. Over the years, the thought has become unsettling. I don’t like to talk about it.
Years went by, and I felt as if Uncle started to slowly take over my club. I needed family here I could trust, someone I could rely on, someone who reminded me I was human and not the fucking animal my uncle and father raised me to be. So I tried to bring my brother Lip into the Sin City Outlaws. He hated me, but would give it to me straight. I could trust him.
He refused.
When he left here, he got with another motorcycle club and was happy there. He told me my club was savage and didn’t know the meaning of brotherhood. I may have reacted harshly. Bullets went flying, and I ended up killing one of their members. He disrespected me and my colors.
In return, my brother Lip went nuts, shooting me to the point I nearly died. If it weren’t for Felix and Machete getting me out of there, I would have. I know where I stand with Lip now—six feet under. Fuck him.
If I see him again, I’ll be emptying my clip in him.
If my altercation with my brother taught me anything, it proved as clear as day that I am a sinner, and that family, trust, and love are something I will never be capable of or deserve. I’m a killer.
I stand, inhaling deeply. “You’re an outlaw. Fuck ‘em.”
JILLIAN
Sliding into the booth of The Big Blue, I grab a menu. It’s a little dive restaurant that the local law enforcement head to after their shifts to relax. The lighting is dim, the tables tall with high stools, and the food is decent. I’ve been coming here since I started at the academy, and my best friend Alessandra meets me here after our shifts. I met Alessandra at the academy. After graduation, she decided to go to the local police department, and I went to the sheriff’s.
“Hey, Jillian,” Alessandra huffs, sliding into the seat across from me.
“Hey,” I mutter, mulling over the idea of a shake or burger.
“Was your night as crazy as mine?” My eyes slip over the menu, deciding if I should divulge my run-in with the Sin City Outlaws. I wonder if she’s run into them yet.
She looks over the menu, her brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, her matching brown eyes flicking back and forth over the menu, lips pursed in thought.
“I, um, I ran into the Sin City Outlaws,” I inform her, trying to muster a casual tone.
Her eyes widen and flick to mine in a blink of an eye.
“Shut up,” she whispers, lowering her menu.
“Have you not had a run-in with them?” I tilt my head to the side, lowering my menu, as well.
She shakes her head, her brows furrowing.
“No way. I was advised to let senior officers handle their calls, or to request a deputy on scene.”
“Huh,” I reply, biting in my inner cheek.
“What were they like?”
I twist my lips. “Dangerous. The president was…” I pause looking for the right word, “intense.”
“Hot? Was he hot? I’ve seen his mugshots, and he looks…” She fans herself. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t kick him out of bed.” My cheeks flush with her brashness.
“Um, yeah, he was okay,” I respond, my voice weak. “I mean, he’s attractive in that dangerous, arrogant kind of way. He wasn’t scared of me, that was for sure, and the way he looked at me…” Images of his dark eyes locked on me flash in my mind. “It was... different.”
“Whoa, maybe I should pull one over.”
I snap from my daze and shake my head.
“No, don’t. When I snapped out of my stupid lust phase, actually tried to do my job and arrest him, his gang was ready to take me down, Alessandra.”
“What’s it going to be, ladies?” Margie, the waitress, asks. She is short, and overweight, with cropped red curly hair. Her voice cracks when she talks, like she smokes three packs of cigarettes a day.
“I’ll take a shake,” I respond.
“Burger and fries,” Alessandra replies.
“You got it.” Margie gives a tight-lipped smile before walking away.
“You off tomorrow?”
“No, last day of field training, though.” I smile, ready to take the reins.