Page 3 of Next Level
This woman works down at the ports and is one badass bitch. She’s not bad on the eyes, but definitely more muscular than I find attractive.
“Yeah, that’s her. You won’t believe what happened,” Lip states.
Jay, our newest prospect, slides two drinks over to the guys.
“Well, fucking spit it out,” I say, irritated.
“She fucked up two guys last week,” Lip says, lifting two fingers. “Two guys.”
I look over at Zip and then back to Lip, needing more information. I instantly worry, thinking,It has something to do with our shipments.
When I don’t say anything, Lip continues, “Seems three guys tried jacking one of her loads. They didn’t think anyone was around, and when they saw her, they thought they could take her.” Lip shakes his head. “Obviously, they underestimated her. I guess one guy ran off right away, one guy was taking most of the beating, but when the other guy tried to help, he got smacked around too. He was finally able to grab the one getting his ass handed to him and ran off.
“Do they know who it was?” I ask.
Everyone knows not to fuck with the ports or they’ll have to deal with the teamsters or us.
“Nah, she said they were young. Probably just fucking around or hoping to score,” Lip replies, reaching for his beer.
I don’t like to hear people are fucking around down there.
“I knew the bitch was tough, but hot damn!” Lip exclaims.
Zip spits out, “You just want her to beat you, but in a different kind of way.”
I gaze over at Lip, who’s got a look of lust for Big Betty on his face.
Well, fuck me. Lip wants Big Betty.
I look between the men. “But the meeting went well, and all’s good?”
Lip says, “All good.”
Zip adds, “Always.”
I glance over at Dawg and Sammie bouncing around, talking shit to each other.
An hour later, most of the members are here, all gathered around, watching my Sammie girl kick everyone’s ass. I crack up watching grown ass men cry over my little girl beating their asses in a video game.
Seeing the love my brothers have for her fills my heart. Knowing if anything happened to me, she’d be protected.
Yeah, life is good.
The next day, we attend the annual car show that we visit every year. But this year, Mother-fucking Nature decided to make it one of the hottest days ever.
“It’s hot as fuck out here,” Chewy gripes beside me as we lean against our bikes.
“Fuck yeah, it is,” I reply, scanning the crowd. Living in Oakland, we don’t usually experience the scorchingtemperatures that the East Bay on the other side of the tunnel does, but today it’s in the high 80s.
“Why does it have to be so fucking hot today of all days?” Chewy keeps up his complaining.
Chewy, our sergeant at arms, is one big, hairy, scary motherfucker. I’m sure he hates life worse than I do with all that fur all over him. He’s named after Chewy fromStar Wars. Man, he’s fucking hairy. Every inch of his skin is covered with hair. Motherfucker probably has hair on his dick.
“What? Are you mad your hair is glistening wet with sweat instead of being all chia pet wild?” I joke.
The brothers laugh around me. Everyone’s relaxing as we people-watch, enjoying the day. Fuck, I want to get out of here and into some air conditioning. You would think my Italian ass would love the sun, but I don’t like to sweat with all my riding gear on.
Chewy’s used to us giving him shit about how hairy he is, so he replies, “Naw, the ladies love it when I glisten.”
