SLAM HER Page 3

  *NOW*

  It was a quiet little Italian restaurant. My father got me the job as a favor and I ended up staying way too long. I got too close to the family that owned the place and now I felt completely stuck there. The owner, Marco, had been through two divorces. His kids had grown up and moved on, while I was still there, working. His mother, Annie, had battled two types of cancer, beaten them both, only to fall, break her hip, and somehow end up with pneumonia, and that’s what took her precious life.

  The restaurant had seen hundreds of workers come and go but I was one of the few that stuck it out. I could handle the family drama, the crises, and everything else in between. I could handle Marco when he drank too much and talked to me about his future. I could handle the people, the drunks, the complaints, and I could handle decorating the place for each stupid holiday all on my own.

  The truth was that it wasn’t about comfort. It wasn’t about having a job. That part was nice. Thanks to my suggestions and Marco’s willingness to spend a little money, we took the restaurant from a small casual place into something a tad bit more upscale. Marco promoted me and I was able to make enough to survive and have plenty left over. Trust me, I wasn’t rich. I wasn’t retiring at forty or anything. I had a one bedroom apartment, a used car that needed an oil change, and the last time I bought myself something new at the mall was for the black dress I wore to Annie’s funeral. (And even then, Marco slipped me a hundred bucks to get something nice.)

  What it was… family.

  I felt like I was part of a family. The restaurant was home.

  A guy named Jake was like the drunk uncle. He’d sit at the end of the counter, drink fifteen cups of coffee, tell war stories for hours, watch the news and critique the country. He’d toss down five bucks, tip his cap, and leave. The Bollary brothers would come in for lunch every day. They owned a construction company. They ordered the same food, complained about their jobs, hated their wives, wished they never had kids. They’d tip and leave.

  My days and nights were all routine.

  I had once heard rumbling about Marco getting involved with the mob but that was just a rumor. There was part of the mob in town, but Hector - the head chef - told me that the Reaper’s Bastards MC took them on to keep the peace. Some of his stories were a little out there but fun to hear.

  My plan was to get to work at three, get all the orders and paperwork done by four, start my waitress shift at four-o-five, and then clock out around midnight and go home. I’d eat ice cream, pretend to be happy, watch a movie, touch myself, and go to sleep. In that exact damn order. Yeah, I had the whole virgin thing dangling over my head, but it wasn’t a halo. I had needs. So I took care of them when needed.

  My plan went to hell around five when Marco got into a fight over the phone with a vendor. As I tried to calm that storm, he and Hector ended up spatting over something stupid. Marco thought Hector was using too much oil in the fryer and that started a war of words. I couldn’t catch my breath and before I knew it, it was almost seven. The restaurant was in full swing, I managed to get Marco to go down the basement to his office, and I told myself to take a break.

  I ended up outside and stood there, sipping soda. Two waitresses finished up their cigarettes and headed back inside.

  I hadn’t heard from my father in a few days which usually meant he was working on something big. Or maybe he was finally pulling away for good. He knew how I felt about him and what he did to me growing up. Yeah, it was nice to have a parent that cared but there was a line. He always crossed that line. Yet he would arrest people for crossing the lines he set. It was so hypocritical.

  The door swung open behind me and out walked Hector.

  “Hey, girl,” he said.

  “Hey.”

  He put his foot up and reached for a cigarette. He lit it up and sighed. “Want one?”

  “No thanks.”

  “You should.”

  “They’re bad for your health.”

  “Everything is bad for your health. What are you worried about? We’re all going to die.”

  “How sweet.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course, Hector.”

  “How’s that cherry of yours?” he asked. “Still going… or did you…”

  Hector was like the gross cousin who had no barriers. He somehow survived, had nothing to show for himself, and he was perfectly fine with it.

  I swallowed hard. “This again?”

  “Hey, girl, I’m just worried about you. I care about you. Not like that, but you know, you gotta get it, girl.”

  “First off, my cherry was popped a long time ago,” I said.

  Hector raised an eyebrow.

  Again, virgin didn’t mean nothing was ever done to me. Then again, someone once told me that most young ladies were probably more prone to popping their cherry when they used a tampon versus anything else.

  “You ain’t been fucked though,” he said so boldly.

  “You offering?” I asked.

  Hector grinned. He had a couple gold teeth near the back of his mouth that flickered in the light above the back of the restaurant. “Aw, girl, I’d love to. I’d tear you right up and hold you tight while you figured out what just happened.” He then took a big drag on his cigarette and tossed it. “But before that, I have to go cook some fucking food because Marco threatens to chop my head off again.”

  I laughed as Hector went back inside.

  He was a good guy. I’d known him since I started working there. More than once he came to my defense, knocking people around if they looked at me the wrong way. We were way too close for anything to happen. He always asked me when I was going to get laid and I always told him when he did.

  I finished my break and went back into the restaurant.

  I walked through the kitchen, making sure everything was running smoothly.

  Out in the dining room, things were ticking along just the way they were supposed to be. I was actually having a great night with tips so far and it seemed to only be getting better.

  Forcing a smile to my face I went to the next table, two guys that had just been sat down. One look at them and I knew I was in for trouble. They were far too clean cut and already half drunk. One of them went right to my chest before meeting my eyes.

  That’s the way to a woman’s heart…

  Inside, I sighed.

  Outside, I asked them what I could get them to drink.

  Little did I know before the end of my shift, my entire life was going to change.

  seven

  (slam)

  *NOW*

  “Okay,” Uncle Jakey said. He hit the gavel. “We have our vote then. We have a twenty on Tommy and we will act as needed. The key is to find out if he’s working for someone else. Make sure nobody is trying to fuck us from behind.”

  “Nothing worse than getting fucked from behind,” Elijah said with a grin.

  “You’d know,” I said.

  “Fuck you, Slam.”

  “No thanks, brother. I prefer a nice, warm slit, not an asshole.”

  Elijah punched the table and tried to stand.

  “Sit down,” Knox bellowed. “Everyone shut up.”

  Uncle Jakey nodded. “I’m heading out of town for a day or two. I’m tired. Knox is going to take control of all this shit. The rest of you, stay out of jail.” Then he looked at me. “Especially you. Find more women and stay barricaded in your goddamn room.”

  “Everyone clear out,” Knox ordered.

  I sat right in fucking place. I knew this had to be about me and my request.

  Chapel cleared out and I sat there, facing Knox.

  “What are you planning on doing?” he asked me.

  “I can’t get in trouble,” I said. “You keep telling me that. So I’m not going to do that.”

  “Then what are you going to do?”

  “What I do best is get into trouble. I’m going to fuck her. Her
old man put me in the slammer… so I’m going to slam her now.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Knox said. “Tell me…”

  “Fucking hell, Knox,” I growled. “What kind of man do you think I am? I would never hurt a woman. She ain’t gonna be forced to be with me. Trust me. I’m going be right there for her, every time she needs a man. And then I’m going to destroy her. I’m going to make sure her father meets me and sees that I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I think I’d rather you get into trouble,” Knox said.

  “I can do that,” I said with a grin.

  “Here’s what I got for you, brother. Chief Richards has one daughter. Only child. You’re going after his baby darling little girl, Slam.”

  “Perfect.”

  “She’s got pretty blue eyes. Blonde hair. A real cute thing, too. Amazing her situation.”

  “Situation?” I asked.

  “This is the kicker, man. She’s untouched.”

  “Untouched…” It sank in. “Damn.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did you find that out?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Knox said. “I got you your information. So you’re going to go after that? If she’s saving herself, she’s not going to give it up to you, brother. Not to some tough biker.”

  “That’s where she’s wrong,” I said. “That’s where you’re wrong, Knox. She’s going to give it all up to me. She’ll be falling right into my arms each and every night, begging for my dick.”

  “Wow. Thanks for that description,” Knox said. “I know where she works too. The little Italian place off of Point River. We’ve helped them, you know? The owner, Marco, had a sit down with Vinny. Vinny was about to pinch him hard but then we swept in and kept things straight. One of our many accomplishments, Slam. We’re doing good for this town, in spite of the asshole Chief Richards.”

  “Is this you trying to convince me not to do this?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Save your breath,” I said. “I’ll stop over at the restaurant next time she’s working.”

  I saw the look on Knox’s face.

  “What?” I asked.

  “She’s working right now.”

  I smiled ear to ear. I pushed my hands to the table and stood up. “Well then… how about you and me go get something for dinner?”

  We rode to the restaurant and the entire time I played it out in my mind. The shit I’d say. The shit I’d do. I would win this because I won everything. There was no battle I backed down from. My old man once told me I was too stupid to know when to give up. That was after taking a hell of a beating and then standing back up to face him again. I did that for years until I finally swung back. One punch and I put the old man on the ground. He never came near me again. Never talked to me again either. Ended up drinking too much whiskey one night and came face to face with a dump truck.

  The virgin thing crept into my mind. What the hell would possess a woman to be staring down thirty and not have herself taken care of? Fuck that marriage thing or whatever, it was about basic needs in life. Shit, she had me intrigued before I could lay my eyes on her.

  As me and Knox entered the restaurant, the young hostess took one look at us and she froze.

  “Babe, we need a table,” I said. “In Belle’s section.”

  “Uh, sure,” she said.

  Yeah, me and Knox stuck out like sore thumbs. Not that it was some up class fucking place or anything. But to see two guys well over six feet, shoulders a mile wide, wearing leather cuts, death in our eyes, pain at our fingertips, it was like a death march coming. All eyes were upon us as we were led to our table.

  We sat in a booth and I touched the hostess’s wrist. “Babe, we need two cold draft beers.”

  “I’m not allowed to serve alcohol. I’m only twenty.”

  I felt a rumble deep in my gut.

  Goddamn.

  Twenty years old. The things I would do…

  “Do you know who I am?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Who?”

  “The motorcycle club. Reaper’s Bastards.”

  “Do you think I’m a bad guy?”

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  I smiled. “I’m not a bad guy, unless I don’t get what I want. Right now I want a fucking beer. So does my VP. Are you going to tell me no again, babe?”

  She looked ready to cry. Sometimes I wondered if I was too much of a monster. The hostess flickered this cute little smile at me and that’s why I was a monster. Most women loved it. Women could say they want some fucking white knight all they want… but the truth? When the door was shut, they wanted a monster. A beast.

  And that’s what they got with me.

  I winked at the hostess and she walked away.

  It took her all of thirty seconds to come walking back with two beers. She was so damn nervous her hands were shaking and she spilled beer all over the table.

  “Shit. Sorry.”

  She let go of my beer and I grabbed her hand. “Easy, babe. Don’t be nervous. I don’t bite… at first.” I slowly pulled her hand to my mouth and I licked the tip of her pointer finger. “Ah, so damn sweet.”

  She pulled her hand away and gasped.

  With that, she walked away.

  I looked at Knox. “Too far?”

  “Jesus, brother, what is wrong with you? Prison turned you into… this?”

  “No. I’m just figuring out my moves here.”

  “Why can’t you let it go?” Knox asked. “We’re going to take out the guys that fucked us. Chief Richards? We’ll get his number eventually. Either he’ll retire or die trying to stop us. You know that.”

  “I don’t wait,” I said. “Now where’s the fucking wait…”

  I lost my words as I saw her turn the corner.

  I knew it was Belle.

  Holy fucking shit… black pants, white button down shirt, tucked in, top button open, tits pressing forward against the shirt. From my distance I could see hints of a white laced bra under the shirt. Blonde hair pulled back tight, a few strands of hair loose. And then her eyes.

  Blue eyes.

  “Fuck me,” I whispered.

  “What is it?” Knox asked.

  I didn’t tell Knox right then… but I’d seen Belle before…

  This was going to be one fuck of a ride.

  I waited patiently for her to come to me. My entire world was pushed four feet to the left with this development. Belle was beyond innocent. I remembered that night at the bar, her giggling laughing, bumping into me over and over, then the way we looked at each other and eye fucked each other.

  Shit, I had planted the first seed that night with her.

  I smiled as I watched her work table to table. Knox kicked at my legs, telling me not to be so fucking obvious, but what the fuck did I care? It wasn’t like I was going to throw her down on a table and fuck her in front of a full restaurant. Although, I would have done that. She had been waiting her entire life for me. But this wasn’t just about fucking her. This was so much more. I wanted to make her fall for me. I wanted to meet her father and have him know I was tearing his little girl apart. I wanted to drive him insane with him knowing the way his daughter lusted for me.

  It was all perfect.

  Belle turned and faced me, her eyes finally connecting with mine.

  That’s when I had another vision. Another piece to my fucking plan.

  Something intense.

  Something that would send everyone over the fucking edge.

  Something that would make my revenge permanent.

  I was going to get Belle pregnant.

  My mind continued to race. It was a wild mix of rage, anger, and lust. Shit, I was lusting for this bitch already? Maybe I could smell that untouched slit between her legs. I couldn’t imagine it being true, but goddamn, if it was, she was going to be wicked tight. She was going to need me to take it easy on her, which I could do, but on
ly for a short time. I could already feel her clawing at my shoulders and biting my chest to keep from screaming too loud.

  My left hand gripped the edge of the table. I felt my teeth gritting as we stared at each other. It was pretty damn obvious she remembered who the hell I was too.

  “Brother, you need to calm down,” Knox said. “You can’t be mad at her for anything. Play this right.”

  “Shut up, Knox,” I whispered.

  Belle took a step toward the table. Then another.

  Come to me, babe. Come to me so I could ruin you.

  She took one more step and then a hand shot out from two tables behind us. I watched as the hand swung and cracked Belle, right in the ass.

  She jumped, then froze, and looked down at the table.

  “I need another drinks, tits,” someone said.

  That’s when the anger hit a boiling point.

  Belle’s face turned red and I could tell whoever just touched her was not welcomed to be doing so. I pulled at the edge of the table to get out of the booth and kill the fucker that just touched Belle, but Knox stopped me.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” he said. “I saw it too. Let that one go.”

  I looked at Knox, my body seething with rage. “I can’t.”

  “You can’t get into trouble. Go with the flow of the night, brother. Remember.”

  I forced myself to sit still for a few seconds. I listened to the way this asshole talked to Belle.

  My Belle.

  I looked at Knox again and then looked up at Belle as she approached our table.

  Her fingers touched the table. “I’m so sorry, guys. Can you hold for another minute?”

  “Sure thing, Belle,” I said to her. “Take your time.”

  She kept walking but looked back at me and she stumbled.

  “Real smooth,” Knox asked. “She’s going to want to know how you know her name.”

  I ignored Knox and watched as the asshole from the other table stood up. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m going have a ciggy. Fucking lame place won’t let ya smoke. Fucking losers.”

  The guy turned and walked to a side exit.