SLAM HER(9)

“You’d know,” I said.

“Fuck you, Slam.”

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

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 f*cking 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 f*ck 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 * 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 f*cking 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.”