Little Memphis (5 page)

My mother is an idiot about everything. Money, parenthood, men, everything, but she gave me one good bit of advice. Something my grandmother told her and grandma knew her shit.

Mom told me never to cry for help when attacked. People don’t want to get involved. Instead, she said to scream cuss words and make loud threats. After all, people love watching fights.

So as Nice Guy holds me against the car and kicks open my legs, I cuss as loudly as possible. Fucker, bitch, cunt, twat, herpes, shit eater… I scream anything I can think of. Nice Guy shoves me hard against the car and my hat goes flying. He seems to take particular offense to the mocking of his mama’s giant worn-out pussy.

Once I get my pinned hand free, I shove the key into his hip bone and he wails. Jabbing wildly and aiming for his crotch, I yell more obscenities. Nearby, people move closer. While they aren’t sure what’s going on, they want to see the show.

Nice Guy doesn’t notice them or maybe doesn’t care. Pissed now, he is close to taking away my keys. I throw back my head and nail him in the jaw.

He yells then I yell louder.

The crowd moves closer. I hear laughing from people as I twist around and shove the asshole off me. After he falls to the ground, I should run to safety. Instead, I jump on top of him and start bashing him with my fists.

On my second hit, the key makes contact with his cheek and draws blood. He shoves me back and I skid on the gravel again. Once on my ass, all hell breaks loose.

Imagining him pinning me to the ground sends me into a wild panic. I kick and hit like a crazy person. Hitting and kicking, I refuse to let him get the upper hand. Around us, people are laughing and I hope to kick their asses next.

Quickly, I’m on top of Nice Guy, smashing his face with wild punches. The keys are still in my hand, tearing into his skin. He yanks at my hair and struggles to shove me off. Cussing and punching, I’m too afraid and angry to stop.

Finally someone takes me by the back of my jacket and lifts me off Nice Guy. Before the fucker gets up, a boot shoves him back down. The guy stepping on my wannabe rapist is Pax and I find Ford behind me.

“I had it handled!” I yell, freaking out. “I didn’t need your help!”

Ford smiles softly, clearly wanting to laugh. Pax gives into his urge, laughing loudly.

“I wasn’t helping you, darling,” Ford says, cupping my face and studying it for injuries. “That guy works for the club. I was saving an asset.”

“Fuck him and fuck you too!” I scream, afraid to calm down.

Panic strikes when I think about how I hurt someone the club protects. Am I in trouble? Will they gang up on me? Should I run? Where the hell can I go?

Ford leans down and rests his forehead against mine. “You have no idea how hard I am right now. Violent chicks just do something to me.”

“Fuck off,” I say with less heat.

Ford stands up and smiles really big like I’m hilarious. “I’ll have someone drive you home while we deal with Creepy Spencer here.”

“I drove myself.”

Pax reaches to take the keys from my hand. At first, I consider fighting him, but the fear I refused earlier now overwhelms me.

“We’ll get Darby’s car home,” Pax says then takes a bat someone hands him. “You go home and we’ll teach Creepy Spencer a lesson.”

“I already taught him plenty,” I mumble.

Carrying my hat in one hand, Ford wraps an arm around my shoulders and walks me towards the road.

“This isn’t about you, Shay,” he tells me. “This is about respect. See, the other night you got my dick all excited. After you left, I called dibs. Creepy Spencer heard me call dibs, yet he made his move. Even though you taught him a lesson, I still need to teach him mine.”

Looking up at Ford, I realize I’m shaking. His expression is relaxed and I want to trust him, so I say the words.

“Am I in trouble?” I whisper.

“For what?”

Shrugging, I frown at a car screeching to a halt in front of us.

“Lucky’s old lady will give you a ride home. Tell Darby her car will be delivered later.”

Still staring up at him, I struggle not to say something stupid. I don’t even know what I want to say. Ford feels warm and safe and I’m cold and scared. I want to share with him feelings even I don’t truly understand.

Ford removes his arm from around me and opens the door to a big SUV. Inside, a blonde woman smiles slightly at him.

“Get a haircut, Ford,” she snaps.

“Thanks, mom,” he replies then gestures for me to climb into the car.

I obey and glance back at where Pax waits for his brother. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s cool. I’m not in the mood to chat,” he murmurs and I smile like a dope.

Ford shuts the door and I look at Jenn. Probably in her thirties, she’s beautiful and I can see why Lucky wants her. After she hits the gas pedal, I realize she’s a little scary and I know why Lucky’s scared of pissing her off.

“Got a little banged up, huh?” she asks.

Even as my shaking lessens, the shock of what just happened leaves me wanting to hide in bed.

“People are talking about you,” Jenn says while we stop at a light. “They think you’re pussy Lucky’s obsessed with because he’s going through a midlife crisis. That or you’re his love child from an old fling.”

“I’m not sleeping with your husband,” I mumble, crossing my arms.

“I know. You’re not his type. I also know if you were his kid, he’d tell me.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“For what?”

“I don’t know.”

Jenn smiles as we near the house. “Take a hot shower and get cozy in bed, but don’t forget what happened tonight. Men like that asshole are a dime a dozen in Little Memphis. Has Darby told you about the guy she killed?” When I shake my head, she continues, “This town is full of stupid people. Lucky and the club can’t keep you safe. Most people listen, but not guys like the one tonight. They’re headed for early graves, so you need to toughen up if you want to live here.”

“Thank you for the ride,” I say as she parks in front of the house.

The front porch light switches on and Jenn sighs. “I wanted to introduce myself and ask you to come to the house this Sunday for dinner. So when I heard you were beating down some fucker and needed a ride home, I volunteered.”

“I’d like to come to dinner.”

“See you then,” Jenn says then waves at Darby when I open my door.

Darby stands on the front porch and waves back. I hurry past her and into the house.

“Don’t stress, Shay,” Darby says, locking the door. “I’m packing Patton.”

I frown at her then glance down at shotgun the robe-wearing Darby is holding.

“Okay.”

“You’re stressed. Go take a hot shower and I’ll find you fluffy things to wear. Soft clothes always make me feel better. Then we’ll drink cocoa and watch TV until your stress is gone.”

I do as Darby suggests. First, a hot shower washes the gravel from my hair and the aches from my body. Second, her fluffy pajamas and slippers make me feel like a princess. Third, a cup of cocoa with marshmallows soothes the fear I’d felt since Ford pulled me off the asshole. Finally, a few hours of watching late night comedy reruns with Darby helps me accept I’m home.

Ford

Got an Itch Only Shay Can Scratch

In the walk-in freezer, Creepy Spencer hangs upside down. His chattering teeth act as a nice diversion from the whimpering he’s done since we dragged him though the backdoor of the closed Hunk O’ Love. The restaurant has two freezers. One for food and one for guys like Creepy Spencer.

“I didn’t know,” he whines again.

Pax glances at me as we sit in the kitchen and wait for the final word on Creepy Spencer’s fate.

“I’m proud of your restraint,” he says, chewing on a wad of gum. “A man messes with your intended piece of tail and you don’t burn the world down. I guess you’re maturing.”

“Thanks, man. Means a lot coming from you.”

“Maybe you just know it’ll never happen with Lucky’s kid.”

“She’s not his kid,” I mutter, thinking about Shay. “If she was, Lucky would have pissed a protective circle around her by now. You ever see the way he is with Paige? She’s only nine and he’s already throwing rocks at neighborhood boys who are sweet on her.”

“True. Doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been shot down twice by Miss Trucker Hat. That’s gotta hurt, bro.”

“Fuck off, champ.”

“Eat shit, fella.”

I grin. “Did you see her wailing on the creeper? A man could fall hard for a chick so crazy.”

“The mouth on her too. Make a sailor blush. I liked when she was screaming about his fucking mom. Classic trash talking. Yeah, I can imagine her raising you some pretty pups.”

I roll my eyes. “That reminds me, we need to get home and let Folgers in before it rains.”

“We could just shut the door on this fucker,” Pax says, gesturing towards Creepy Spencer. “Who would care if he froze?”

“Our boss might care,” I say, staring at the pervert. “I’m killing him eventually though. A guy like him is on borrowed time.”

When Creepy Spencer stares back at me, I know he’s thinking about Shay. The guy has a habit of latching onto girls and stalking them until someone beats him down. Tonight, Creepy Spencer got beaten down twice, but he’s still jonsing for Shay.

I suspect he wants revenge, but he’ll never get it. Even if the boss says to let him live, the reprieve will be short term. Creepy Spencer has fucked with a lot of women over the years, but now he’s gone after mine. No way does he walk away from such an error.

According to Trigger, Creepy Spencer lives to be creepy another day. After ditching the fucker near his house, Pax and I head home to let in the dog before the storm arrives. Large drops tease the night and Folgers isn’t happy to be slightly wet. The Rottweiler and Shepherd mix shakes himself next to Pax, clearly blaming my brother for the delay.

“I met a chick,” Pax says, checking the mail while I kick off my shoes. “Goofy little broad just getting out of a bad marriage. I’m thinking I’ll hit her up tonight.”

“Go for it. I’m planning to stay home with Folgers.”

“Want me to ask if she has a goofy little broad friend for you?”

“You know the answer.”

Pax stares at me. “She’s a kid. A cute kid, but she’s not ready for anything besides high school boyfriend shit. You come with too much baggage. My advice is it go and have fun until she grows the fuck up.”

“Nice advice, but when I had my arm around her tonight, it felt good. A million times better than fucking Maggie or another random chick. A small touch like that made me want more and I’m not settling. You’d understand if you knew how it felt. Once you get a taste, settling for easy shit won’t cut it.”

Pax studies me. “This chick might be the magic pussy that makes you lose the need for easy fucks. She might be everything and you go domesticated like the other guys. That’s all nice and well, but if she steps in between us, I’ll bury her deep.”

I can’t help laughing at his pathetic threat which pisses off Pax. He grabs his keys and heads for the door.

“Blood before beauty, right, bro?” I call out.

Pax stops and nods once before disappearing out the door.

I don’t blame him for being territorial. We’re the only family we know and the only friends we truly trust. If his goofy broad turns serious, I’ll worry too. No one stands between the brothers. It’s our motto. One of them anyway. When we’re drunk, we come up with a lot of them.

Folgers sits on the couch next to me while I watch the news then an episode of
Tattoo Nightmares
. He also hangs around during my shower. At some point while I’m walking around in my dark room, the dog decides to find another place to haunt.

Crawling under the covers, I listen to the rain against the windows and imagine Shay doing the same thing at Darby’s place. She’s likely upstairs in one of the bedrooms that didn’t belong to MJ. Imagining her long blonde hair messy across a pillow, I wonder if she wears a nightgown or flannel pajamas to bed.

A man like me gets only a few shots in life to find a woman who fits. Not like the businessman-type who visits his elderly mom up the street. Clean-cut with bright white teeth and a spray tan, he works out and dates a new woman on a regular basis. He’s searching for his Barbie wife to look pretty in the yearly Christmas cards. They’ll have bland babies and live a bland life. A lot of women can fit with a lame guy like him living a cushy life.

I’m not him. I’m not looking for my Barbie. If I want a kid, I can always go commando with a trailer trash chick unable to remember to take her pills. My club brother Bagman never wanted a wife. Instead, he has a couple kids by a couple chicks and he plays daddy on weekends. No harm, no foul. It’s a good life for him and he’s not looking to change anything.

I’m not looking either. Yet I find myself wondering about Shay in a way that makes me feel like a lonely kid. The house is too quiet and the rain feels oppressive. Mostly, my bed is too empty.

I close my eyes and imagine Shay looking up at me from under the tip of her hat. Her eyes are the same color as the gray marbles I played with on the gravel driveway as a kid. When Shay looks at me, I see no hint to her mood or tease to her plans. Even when I pulled her off Creepy Spencer, her eyes were unreadable. Her lips twisted in rage told me more than those eyes.

No matter how well she lies, I refuse to believe she wants any man besides me. I suspect she’s thinking about me right now too. Feeling her soft fingers on my skin, I know she wants to touch me. She needs me to touch her.

I caress my cock like I know she will one day. Shay will make me come. I suspect she’ll take pleasure in having power over me. Not in a cruel way. No, Shay likes making others happy. I don’t know how I know this about her, but I do.

Thunder crashes overhead and I hear Folgers scramble for his corner. Shay is somewhere, listening to the thunder too. She’s who I focus on. Not the now, but a day in the future when she’s with me in the dark. Thinking of when she downed the shots of whiskey, I imagine those wet lips sucking at my cock.

Closing my eyes, I can feel her in bed with me. Her skin is chilled against mine until I warm her. Her delicate fingers tease me, her lips suck at my flesh, and I hear her say my name in the same whispering voice she used to ask if she was in trouble.

I find relief. The physical kind, but I don’t sleep for a long time. Rolling around in bed, I eventually turn on the TV. Nothing interests me while everything reminds me of Shay. Even the slutty chicks on the phone sex commercials make me wonder about her.

Lucky claimed she worked in a strip club, yet she hides her body now. Her new style works for me. I’m not looking for anyone else to see what’s beneath the flannel except me.

I’m still awake when Pax returns home after two. I don’t bother him as he makes way too much noise in the kitchen. Folgers follows him around, his nails clicking on the wood floors. They’re like a fucking circus moving around my level of the house. I wonder if I sound as loud to Pax when I arrive home after an easy lay.

Even though Shay’s likely asleep, I can’t relax. I need to know she’s safe. She didn’t look hurt when I left her, but I didn’t check close enough.

Is she afraid? In pain? Does she fear Creepy Spencer hurting her again?

Fuck. I need to know the answers, but calling is out of the question. If I woke her up in the middle of the night, Darby would drive to my house and kick me in the balls.

The only way I sleep is to think of Shay wrapped in my arms in my bed where I’m sure no one can hurt her. Finally, I relax into dreams about Shay sitting next to me in the booth at Suede.

I sleep, but wake to the same fucking need to see Shay. Of course, I have no intention of going the stalker route and checking her out from afar. Screw that. I want to see her up close and personal. No, I want to talk to her, touch her, taste her, everything.

 Shay’s fucking gorgeous standing behind the desk of the Oregon’s front lobby. With her hair tied up into a bun, she looks classy. I don’t give a shit about that part. I just like seeing her face so clearly. The curve of her jaw. The sexy shape of her lips. Those gray eyes lighting up when she sees me.

Her eyes no longer hide what she feels. Instead, they reveal everything as I approach. Excitement shifting into fear before settling into a professional friendliness. I’m not a fan of the last look.

“Hello,” she says like I might be checking in for the night.

“No thank you?”

“For what?” she asks, glancing around before focusing on me.

“For saving you from a murder charge.”

Shay grins. “I wasn’t even close to killing him.”

“No, but you didn’t know how to stop.”

Leaning on the front desk, I study her. Shay pretends my gaze doesn’t bother her. She’s quite the liar.

“Thank you,” she says suddenly. “I lost control and didn’t know how to get it back.”

“Been there,” I mutter, reaching out to touch her cheek. “You sleep okay?”

Her gaze holding mine, Shay nods. “Darby makes really good cocoa.”

“I bet she does.”

We just look at each other while my fingers linger on her cheek. Shay steps back, looking around like we’re being watched. I follow her gaze, but the place is empty except for us.

“What happened to that guy?” she asks, ruffling papers to look busy.

“He lives to be a pervert another day. If you see him, even in passing, you tell me and I’ll handle it.”

“Should I be worried?”

I rap my knuckles against the desk and her startled gaze meets mine. “Yes. You made him look like a pussy in front of a bunch of gossipy shitfucks in Little Memphis. No doubt the whole town knows he got done in by a girl weighting maybe a buck o’ five.”

“I weigh more than that.”

“How would I know with the way you hide it under your flannel and business lady garb?”

While I want to tease her about seeing what she hides, she frowns and focuses on Creepy Spencer.

“Is this guy going to come after me?”

My smile fades. “I made very clear what happens to his cock if he so much as looks at you again. Problem is guys like him have no control over themselves. They almost want to die young and painful.”

Shay’s gray eyes focus on me, hiding nothing. She’s scared and wants me to save her. I see that look sometimes with girls alone for too long. They get stuck on someone making their lives easier.

“Give me your phone,” I say and Shay obeys instantly.

I take the pink cell and smile at the flowered cover. Once I type my number into her phone, I hand it back.

“I made me number one on your call list. If you see Creepy Spencer, you call me. Not Lucky or the fucking cops. You call me and I’ll deal with him. You tell him you called me too. Let him know I’m coming, so he better run.”

Shay studies my face then blinks rapidly. “Okay.”

Man, I want to climb over the fucking desk and taste the lower lip she’s biting. She’d let me too. Out of fear or surprise, she’d let me kiss her. I want her to want it though, so I glance around the lobby.

“Is it dead like this every night?”

“Yes. Sometimes, a lone family will stop and need a room. Otherwise, everyone checks in earlier and doesn’t need much.”

Silence passes between us. I guess I should leave her to work, but I refuse. Though I can’t go, I also can’t say anything I want to say. Shay is scared, so what I crave isn’t on her radar.

“You ever put anyone in room 202?” I ask as she watches me.

“No, why?”

Got her curious now, I come around to the back of the desk where two chairs rest. I lounge into one and pat the second one. Shay looks around, uncertain, before sitting.

“Back when I first got with the club, there was a guy who came to Suede every Friday night. We called him Elvis cause that’s who he dressed like whenever he wasn’t working his normal job as a car salesman. He was a funny guy especially drunk. His mom was a circus performer and she taught him all these fun flips and tricks. I didn’t mind him, but Pax thought he was annoying.”

I pause to think of how pissed Pax would get whenever Elvis showed up at Suede. Like a raging bull, he’d storm out of the bar once the back flips began. I’ve always suspected Pax had issues with clowns and Elvis cemented my theory.

“Elvis had a wife for a long time, but no one ever saw her. Then she was just gone and he would come in crying. Pax really hated that. After his wife left, Elvis got weird. He started spending all his time with these two hookers, Cookie and Candy. I think they were twins and one of them had a limp. They were high all the time and giggled at everything. Every weekend, Elvis and the twins would party in room 202.”

Shay sits with one long leg crossed over the other and her hands resting in her lap. She’s so focused on me that my cock thickens. I want her now and we’re in a building filled with beds. Taking a deep breath, I remember my story.

“One night, Elvis killed both Cookie and Candy with his dick.”

I can’t help laughing when Shay’s eyes widen. “You’re messing with me.”

Running my finger along the curve of her jaw, I exhale slowly at how soft her skin feels.

I shove my hands into my thick dark hair and try to concentrate. Shay watches me very intently and I suspect she knows how much I want her. I can’t tell how she feels about my need. Her gray eyes show me nothing again and not knowing drives me crazy.