“You worry too much. If you had hurt her, she deserved it,” one of the guys said from the back. I looked at him; he had this proud look on his face. A growing group surrounded us, all watching
Maxine with concern and pride.
“I know who to come to when those tarts start to annoy us, we have a female ‘Sargeant of arms.” Another quipped.
“What? You want me to get angry and beat up some chick for you?” Maxine looked shocked, appalled.
“We don’t hit women, well, most of us don’t, and we need someone who ain’t afraid to give them a slap if it’s needed, pull them back into line,” Bruiser added, rubbing his chin in thought, like he often does.
I pulled Max onto my lap. Now that she had finished eating, I wanted to feel her, make sure she was okay. To my relief, her shaking was gone.
“She got my years of built-up hate and anger. I wasn’t going to let someone walk in and take my man. Heck, I hadn’t even had a chance to really get to know Tank, yet, like it early in our relationship. I have had enough of chicks thinking they can come and take. Not going to happen, chicks need to learn the word no, means no too. Just like men do.” Maxine was still angry, but angry for a different reason this time.
“So you gonna take the job?’ Sticks pushed, we needed a woman who was not afraid to fight. They don’t come around often, and her fight, by the look of it, would be fists, not slaps and hair pulling.
“What was a real job offer?” Maxine looked up at me, and then at the Prez, then back at me. A frown marred her face.
“Too right, why not, girls need someone to come to, and I am positive, you won’t go beating them up for no good reason,” Prez said, shrugging.
‘Just don’t hurt those hands, we need you to be still able to paint the bikes.” Bruiser chuckled, looking at her hands, which were no longer shaking.
“Does that mean I have to join the parties, like do I need to be at the door like Bruiser does?” She asked, and all eyes turned to Bruiser and the Prez.
“Let’s talk about this in my office, not something I want to talk about out here. Officers, let’s chat, we will call you when we have nutted out how we want to better utilise your skills for the gang.”
The Prez stood up, meaning the meeting was now. I had to let my girl go and do the job. Right now, I don’t like being VP; I would prefer to hold my girl for a little longer, not talk about how to use her.
My girl, a bouncer, inside I was all churned up, a mixture of pride and something I couldn’t place.
Maxine POV
My anger was through the roof, so much so that I was shaking; I wanted to hurt that girl so badly. I heard her, saw her hands snaking around my man, and I lost it, I saw red.
Now they want me to be that angry again?
I know how to fight, Grandpa made sure of it, even had some training, but my anger issue was never a problem till now, it’s like I am a whole new me, someone even I don’t recognise anymore.
In the mirror, this morning, I look the same, but on the inside, it was like someone else had taken over, someone who wouldn’t be a mouse and accept the crap going on, who wants to be seen. For years, I had been in my sister’s shadow, trying to stay out of trouble, accepting the inevitable, but this new me won’t accept that, won’t let some skank come and take who had asked me to be his girl. I want to get to know Tank; he’s fun, and I love his cuddles. It’s nice to wake up and find him next to me.
But can I be like Bruiser, give a girl a slap for some infraction, can I be that girl?
It was never something I had thought about, having spent most of my life avoiding trouble.
Grandpa used to say, ‘Pick your battles.’ Maybe this was a way to pick them; if it was what the gang needed, I guess I could put my training to use. Perhaps I need this to prove myself, that I am not the mouse I used to be, but the woman Grandpa said I was, if I looked hard enough inside, and not let my parents and sister hold me back. This might be what I need to find the real me, just like bike repairs, and begrudgingly the painting, as much as I complain about doing it or that it takes me away from rebuilds, I do like creating. I guess I like to do it in my time, not be pushed to do it, and that was why I arced up when pressed.
I watched Tank and the others disappear into the clubhouse and smiled. He was mine, and I just proved it. Now, to see if I want to keep him. That thought made me chuckle. I might get to have a choice for a change. We sort of, he would be fighting to keep me, too, or he’d better be.
I went back to my painting. I was putting the outline on one side of the slit tank. When done, I will leave it to dry and work on the other tank before looking at the guards and oil cover. This part took a bit of concentration; it would be the groundwork for the finished design. I was so lost in my work that I managed to block out what happened at lunch time, and that they were having a meeting about it.
Happy with what I had done, I moved out of the paint room and started working on the other tank and the side covers.
I kept glancing over to the Shovel, one of the bikes my Grandpa loved. I knew that bike as well as my own, having had to help Grandpa work on his, and I knew a few things that often go wrong with it. I wanted to get to work on it, but it wasn’t on the list of bikes I had been given. I wonder what the Prez would do if he saw me doing something he had not prioritized.
Before I could consider it any longer, Tank arrived, carrying coffee and a muffin. He was smiling, his dimple smile, which had grown on me in a very short time. It was the best smile, because it was genuine, and that makes me happy.
He handed me the coffee and a muffin and sat on an empty box, taking a bite of his own muffin.
“Wow, who made these?” I asked as the muffin burst with blueberries.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.