SLAM HER(45)

“Come on, babe,” he whispered and kissed the top of my head.

Slam started to walk me toward the bedroom. Then he scooped me up. The entire world spun hard and fast for a few seconds. When everything stopped moving I was able to then realize that I was in the arms of an outlaw biker.

He took me to my bed and dropped me down. I hurried to open my legs, showing him that I was still wet. Still ready. I gripped the sheets, waiting for him to unzip his jeans and pull that monster of his out and attack me with it.

Slam made fists and put them to the bed. He kissed just above my belly button. I let out a groan.

“Keep going,” I begged.

“Babe, I can’t,” he said. “You know that.”

“Why?”

Slam stood up. He grabbed the covers and folded them over my body. He crouched down, not even joining me in bed.

“It’s not supposed to be this way,” he whispered.

“Fuck you then,” I yelled. “Fuck yourself, Slam. Mister tough guy. You’re a *.”

His lip curled. “That’s right. Let all that nasty shit out.”

“I’m offering. I know what I f*cking want. I want you.”

I grabbed at his leather cut. He grabbed my hand and peeled it away. He softly kissed my hand. “You have me, babe. Goddammit, you have me.”

“Then f*ck me,” I said, my words really slurring then.

Slam put a hand to my face and stroked my cheek. The room started to spin again. I felt my stomach do a few backflips. I let out a little burp and groaned.

I shut my eyes to keep from getting ill and when I opened them, Slam was nowhere to be found. Next to the bed was a garbage can. I sat up fast - too fast - and I quickly leaned over the can. I thought I was going to be sick but I kept everything down. I grabbed for the clock and saw that it was three hours later!

“Belle…”

I looked up and saw Slam in the doorway. He was spinning like ballerina… at least according to my alcohol induced brain.

“Slam. I’m naked for you.”

“Jesus, babe,” he said. “No.”

“You said you loved me.”

“I do, Belle. Get some sleep. I’ve got work to do.”

I heard the words but they were slow. Almost stuttered.

I reached from the bed and felt my stomach flip again. I crashed back down and clutched at the sheets. My f*cking plan had gone to waste.

Slam entered the room and tucked me back in.

I felt the scruff of his face touch mine. “Sleep, babe.”

“I’m so sorry, Slam. I f*cked everything up.”

Slam kissed my cheek. He didn’t say anything back to that comment.

He slipped away from me.

I wanted to reach for him. I wanted to throw up and be sober. I wanted to redo the entire night. Maybe then he would have had sex with me. I wanted to give it all…

I fell asleep in a head spinning haze of vodka, bad memories, and that terrible feeling of being rejected.

But at least Slam would be there in the morning to pick me back up again.





twenty-nine



(slam)



NOW



I couldn’t stand waiting around. I worked best in the night. I couldn’t face Belle again either. Not in the state she was in. Drunk? Desperate to give herself up to me like that? It felt like she was throwing me a favor, as though I had been pressuring her to let me get that * of hers. Shit, that had been the original plan. The f*cking original plan had been destroyed and there it was, waiting for me. She put her damn feet up on the table and spread those sweet, pink lips wide open, and she begged for my dick.

I had been so hard, my cock raging so bad, I felt myself leaking. Fucking pre-cum absorbing into my f*cking boxers as I struggled with temptation and the beautiful innocence of a drunk woman.

That was my chance and I gave it up. Worse yet, I told her I f*cking loved her.

I had taken everything and twisted it up more than anything in my life. Uncle Jakey was right. The Reap was built on action, not this mind game bullshit. We were tough, strong, and smart through our movements. Fuck us and we go after you.

Taking Tommy to Chief had been a smart move, but making one smart move required a second, third, fourth, goddammit. It was too much to think about.

Belle finally fell asleep and stayed asleep. I stood at the edge of the bed and watched her sleep. I put the trash can next to the bed, hoping she’d make it if she needed it. Chugging goddamn booze because of me. Because I put her in a position to give up her darkest secrets. Secrets that I had already known but still had her go through the pain of telling.

I really was an *.

Standing there lamenting about me being an * wasn’t going to get a single thing done. The wheels were already in motion with I had started with Chief. The easy thing would have been to just kill Tommy and let everything else fall into place. But I put the pressure on Chief and I gave him another piece of information. I spilled the intel I had about his wife’s murder. About Belle’s mother’s murder. That put me right back in the driver’s seat.

I was going to find out who did it. I was going to find a way to make things right, at least in the sense of an outlaw. The guy who pulled that trigger on Belle’s mother would never see prison. He would never see a judge or jury. Hell, he would never see anything in the sense of justice.