Page 5 of Vicious Games

The beer hits the spot as I take a sip, pushing cash towards him. “Thanks, Volts. I might go do that.”

Volts gives me a playful wink before moving to serve another patron. I slip off my stool, carrying my glass carefully as I make my way down the back to the semi-hidden doors. When I reach the door, I slip through, hearing deep voices as I head towards the table and chairs I know to be inside.

“Well, if it isn’t little Lee. How you doing, love?” comes a familiar voice.

Three men are sitting around the table, their phones and guns in front of them. They each have a drink and the table is cluttered with their empty glasses. I sit down next to the large, bald man who had spoken.

“Hey, Butch. I’m doing alright.”

Butch is a close friend. He’s traditionally scary looking, covered in tattoos all over his body and even some on his face. His brown eyes are so dark, they almost look black. He has some ink tear drops under his left eye and a long scar on his right cheek. I’ve never asked the story of how he got it but I can imagine the possibilities.

To his right, is Vito. V has shoulder length blonde hair, and is a little younger than Butch – probably around mid-30’s. They are members of the Rebel club, so I can only assume the third man is an acquaintance of theirs.

V holds out his hand for a fist bump which I give back. “Hey, V,” I greet.

The stranger has slicked back black hair and blue eyes. He watches our exchange with interest. “Who’s this?” he asks.

I look over. He’s younger still, maybe late 20’s. Butch nods approvingly at me. “This is Rylee. She’s a friend of ours.”

“Hi,” I say, taking a sip of my beer.

The dark-haired man looks at me carefully, but not with suspicion. “I’m Chuck.”

I nod in acknowledgement before looking back at Butch. “I got in shit again today.”

Butch and Vito laugh, and warmth spreads through me. These are my people, the ones who don’t judge me for being a mess.

“What happened?” asks Vito.

I relay my fellatio assignment and they all roar with laughter, including Chuck. I snicker, because honestly, it’s hilarious and if the college professors could remove their heads from their pompous asses for three seconds, surely, they would also see it.

We sit for a few hours, drinking and chatting. Chuck seems like a good guy, and I can see us being friends too. Eventually when the room starts to sway, I realize it’s probably time to call it a night.

It’s too far out of town for an Uber, and most of the drivers refuse to come to the bar out of fear. Butch holds his alcohol well, so he offers me a ride home, which I accept. I love the thrill of being on a motorcycle and it’s not the first time he has had to save me the expense of walking home.

I say goodbye to Vito and Chuck, following Butch outside. It’s dark now and even if I was sober, I probably couldn’t pick out his Harley. To me, they all look pretty much the same. He grabs my arm gently and leads me through the car park, stopping to make sure my car is locked.

“Make sure you hold on tight, Lee,” he lectures, putting a spare helmet on my head. The bar keeps spares which I am thankful for. I don’t wish for my head to get knocked open on the road, even if college is a lost battle.

“Mmm,” I mumble in agreement, wrapping my arms around his waist when he seats himself in front of me. I rest my head on his back, closing my eyes as I listen to the peaceful roar of the bike as he kicks over the engine. We tear out of the car park of Wheels and I take the moment to enjoy feeling the wind rush past as we head back towards privilege.

Chapter three

“Fuck.”

I look at the cars lined up in the driveway as we pull up to my front door. Apparently when Asher said a few friends, heactuallymeant a few dozen.

Butch helps me off the bike, taking the helmet from me as I hand it to him. “I’m going to kill him,” I mutter.

We look at the swarm of people in the front room through the window, cups in their hands.

“Asher’s doing?” Butch asks and I nod.

Even from outside with the doors and windows closed, I can hear the music pumping. I sigh and take a step towards the house.

Butch puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “You going to be okay, love?”

I give him a reassuring smile, swaying slightly in my stance. “This is normal. I’ll be fine. Just means I won’t be able to sleep with the noise so I’ll have a hangover tomorrow but it’s survivable.”

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