Page 7 of Ruthless Malice

Slash snorts, standing up to challenge me. “Okay, boomer! He’s the Sheriff, what leverage are you going to get on him? This ain’t the seventies no more, old man. We just gotta go in there and give up our Mexican friends on this side of the border in return for immunity.”

He’s grinning as he walks away, the arrogant fucker. He’s really feeling himself at this point. Sledge is slapping him on the back and even the girls are whispering. Thinks he’s so smart.

“Ha! You little shit, you don’t know your ass from elbows, you’re gonna get the entire club taken down because of your immature and plain stupid decisions. Don’t forget, nobody died and made you the president of this club. I’ll tell you this, you or any of your fucking minions walk into the Sheriff’s department, you’ll no longer be Dark Angels.”

Dead silence fills the room.That’s what the fuck I thought.

Chapter Four : Feelings

Lily

He’s got that same grouchy, tough energy my grandfather had when he was alive. It’s not like it was that long ago… Thirteen years fly by fast. I can still see my grandfather’s droopy left eye staring at me if I think hard enough. He ended up needing a cane because of the leg injury he sustained.

“If I had my time again, and I didn’t have to sign up, I wouldn’t have gone. I wanted to stay with your grandmother and enjoy her cooking. Marla was a skilled cook. We were happy together, but she waited for me when I got back. I’m a lucky man. Some men didn’t survive the war. I can’t think for the life of me what we were really fighting for. All that fighting for the country changes when you’re out there on the front line. It’s you against the other man, and you gotta shoot first or you’re going to be shot by him. There’s not time for that, but you know what’s funny?”

“What’s that, Grandpa?”

“Some of those men weren’t my enemies. They didn’t wanna fight me as much as I didn’t wanna fight them. They wanted to go home to their wives and sleep in their beds like me. I had one of them help me out of my bunker and carry me across the road to avoid rocket launchers.”

I loved hearing grandpa’s stories. Because of my sheltered upbringing, perhaps—they were like other young girls’ version of fairytales.

I gently brought my mind around to Bull. What a name. I didn’t have to ask him how he got it. His neck has a wide circumference, and it’s clear he’s a bona fide outlaw. It might have started with the phone number, but now I’m knee-deep in the clubhouse of criminal bikers. Funny how I felt perfectly comfortable here. Yeah, I’m getting a few coolish stares, but nothing to make me want to leave.

Bull is making me feel right at home. I’m playing pool with him and it’s as if we’re old friends. We’ve been hanging out all week and the guys in the clubhouse haven’t put a foot out of line. I don’t get why Sheriff Hunter is after them. Everything looks legit, and I like their logo and motto up on the wall.

I tentatively take in the separate groups of the club milling around. I doubt they’d show their hand while I was there, anyway. There’s a smaller group of women and a couple of them are friendly and down to earth. One of them is Fiona and the other is Lara. The rough-talking one is familiar and looks like one of the Savages. I can’t pick out who, though. Her eyes and her nose are prominent.

“Your shot,” Bull prompted me. “Left pocket, you missed it last time. This time, get down low so you can angle the ball and make it your bitch. Slide it right in there. I’ll let you win one game, but I won’t let you win the next.”

I giggle as I listen to the strong directive from Bull. He’s standing at the top of the pool table. He’s so buff and even as he holds onto the pool cue, his biceps are flexing and there’s a vein running like a river through the middle of his arm. He must keep in shape. He’s an older man type of sexy. He’s got a mellow calm that soothes me. This must be a movie because this has never happened to me with any man.

“All right, I got it. You’ve been at this a while longer than me,” I joke flirtatiously. He might be old enough to be my father, but I find him extremely attractive. I bend low like he says—I trust his advice. It’s euphoric how much he feels like family to me. I aim my cue right in the middle of the purple porcelain ball, shooting for the top pocket. He’s right about his tips. I shoot clean with confidence, and it clinks the small blue ball right out of the way, rushing into the pocket.

He holds out his bulky arms out wide, showing off his tribal tattoos in his sleeveless gray cut-off shirt. “See, I told you. Nicely done! You’re a pretty good pool player when you concentrate.”

I beam, captivated by him. I want to give him a hug, but it’s probably too early and out of bounds in the friendship for that. I take a sip of my beer instead. He tilts his head up. “You’ve been nursing that thing for the last hour. Let me get the prospect, Jake, to make you a fresh one.”

I stop him. “Nah, I gotta drive, so best if you don’t. It’s not a good look for a cop to get a DUI.”

“Fair point. Ah, a water then?”

“Okay, that’s great.” His warm touch is so different from what I thought he would be. If I’m being real with myself, I’ve been cut off from people since my grandfather passed. It’s like Bull has revived a piece of me in a way. The dead wood inside is clearing, log by log.

Triggers of my father bring a tremble to my fingers. His anger explosions and misguided fits could last for days. I would have to watch every movement, hypersensitive if I did the wrong thing he could pop off at any stage.

My muscles always stayed locked and coiled like tight springs. That’s how strained my home life was. On the days that work went well was the best. He would stay in a good mood for one night at least.

“How was work, Dad? Everything okay?”I would clench my stomach muscles, waiting for the answer.

“It was a pretty good day, pumpkin bear. You don’t have to cook tonight. I’m gonna order take out for us both. How does that sound?”

“Great!”On those days, I felt like I had a real dad. One that cared about me.

Being a dispatcher handling all the distressing calls didn’t help matters.

“You drifting off on me… you okay?” Bull asks tenderly. He even cares enough to ask me what’s wrong. All the other guys I’ve dated only ever drip with lust for me and try to grope me at every opportunity.

I want to tell him what he means to me. I’m finding it hard to keep it inside. It’s like a dam waiting to explode. Jake comes back to hand me a sparkling water and my hands shake with fear. Can I tell Bull? Will he think I’m an idiot?

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