“Cricket, she’s not a bad cook.” He shrugged, most likely used to this sort of food. I am more of a savory person, but the occasional muffin, when not too sweet, wasn’t bad.
“What was the verdict?” I asked, assuming he had come out here to talk to me about their decision.
“You are to follow Bruiser’s lead and be a girl bouncer. He will train you in what we expect and when. It works out better that way. We often get girls who need a slap around the ear, but none of us guys want to be the one, and most of our girls are, well, girls, and their slap wouldn’t hurt a fly. Bruiser wants to do a training session with you, find out your skills, he said you were holding back, and could have done a far better job at it, if you hadn’t lost your temper.”
“I agree, when I saw her handling you, I saw red, and all my built-up anger over the years, that hadn’t had a chance to escape, came rushing forward. To be honest, I did manage to hold back.”
“That was what Bruiser said, not that he saw it all, but knew with one look at you, and your stance that there was more to it. He reckons you have had some self-defence training.”
“Yeah, some. Part was with Grandpa, before he died, and the other was in a little group I met after school, a street gang, that didn’t mind a girl in the group. I could hold my own. I was angry and upset that I had lost the only person who cared for me. Grandma had gone, and I didn’t know where to put all my grief, and I felt so very alone. Grandpa helped me, and finding the gang helped too. So I got the taste of street fighting and gym training. I enjoyed both till I lost Grandpa, and then I was lost all over again. You could say I spent a lot of time on the streets clearing out the riff-raff.” I was a rebel, in a small way.
“Your parents and sister don’t sound like they cared much.” He stood up and walked to the paint room.
“You could say that.” I must have sounded odd, because he turned swiftly and looked at me, like really looked.
“Can I see what you have accomplished so far? I get some don’t like others to see an unfinished job.” He hesitated at the door.
“Sure, I don’t mind, feedback good or bad, was always welcome, can’t get better if I don’t get feedback, of some sort.” I stood and followed him in.
He stood in front of the tank, moved around it, and looked up at me. A smile graced his face.
“Can’t wait to see the finished product.” We walked out, and I turned off the light. This would sit like that overnight; let the paint dry well before starting the next part.
“Come, you need to spend some time with Bruiser today. He wants a workout before dinner.” I rolled my eyes at his choice of words; it would most likely have me flat on my back, on a mat, more often than me getting a hit on him.
Bruiser was waiting in a room that looked a lot like a gym, even had a boxing ring, weights, and most of the equipment you would expect. I wondered if they had a sauna or hot tub around somewhere. It wouldn’t have shocked me if they had.
“Do you have a change? Not sure you want to spa with me, in jeans.” Bruiser said nonchalantly.
I unsipped my jeans and wiggled out of them; the guys in the room’s eyes bugged out as I stripped off my jeans and blouse, leaving me in tiny shorts and a sports bra. I folded my jeans and blouse neatly and placed them on a chair before walking over to Bruiser, who was checking me out, still shocked that I removed my clothes in front of them like that. It was how I did it in the street gang: no place to change; do it there or fight in jeans. Often we had to fight in jeans, not like you can say: ‘hey, give me a sec, I need to change.’ Before we had a fight, it was bumping into the wrong gang and scrapping it out, in whatever you are wearing, I soon learned not to go out in my good jeans.
A guy I don’t know, whistled at me, as I moved to stand in front of Bruiser, I was not sure if he wanted to fight me or kiss me, his eyes were sparking with mirth, and lust.
“You got your hands full with this one Tank.” A deep voice said from the back, I didn’t turn to look at him, to find out who said it, I gave him the bird and waited for Bruiser to speak or move. I was ready for both.
Tank POV
What Max did in the kitchen was still blowing my mind, as I headed to the office for a pow wow.
My guts were churning, worried about them putting her as a bouncer. It, in theory, sounds good, but I am not sure how I would feel seeing my girl get hurt. Would I be able to sit back and watch?
That was what the men were discussing; they had already made up their minds that she would become one, and as the new VP, her status was raised along with mine. Mind you, she was already high up in their estimation, higher than many patch-member old ladies. They want to make sure I don’t disgrace myself or the patch I’ve earned; they know my temper, and I admit it, more as a protective reaction. I have been called in to help in a scrimmage more than once, and my size makes most men back off.
“So, can you do bud? Watch and not interfere? If she becomes a bouncer of women, she needs to know we have her back, if and that’s a big if, she calls for it. Just like Bruiser, he knows he’s in charge, and we have his back if something needs to be done, but don’t get involved unless he wants it.”
“Yeah, Tank, if you go in fists a blazing, she will lose face, get it?”
“Tank, if you can’t do it, leave the room, but hey, you might get a boner, watching her kick arzz.”
That was how the talks went; it took longer for them to be satisfied that I could hold my temper than it did for them all to agree we needed a woman to handle the woman, more than words sometimes, like Sticks will yell and scream, and demand a girl leave. Still, we guys have to be the heavies; to have a woman be the heavy will take pressure off being accused of manhandling a woman and having some cops busting down our doors.
“How can I know? Geez, how would you feel watching your girl fightin? Until it happens, give me a break, I might actually surprise you, and if one day she gets prego, I will not allow her to fight. Got it?” How many ways do I need to tell them to back off? Till they get the hint, I don’t fukn know.
“Tank, come with me, time to get Maxine into the gym and see what she’s made of,” Bruiser said, as his way of saying this meetin’s was over, and goin nowhere.
Bruiser left to set up the gym, with the other officers following him; they, too, want to see what my little lady can do.
Maxine was where I expected her to be, busy working on something, we chatted and she let me see her unfinished work, I was surprise, lots of people won’t let you see it, until the finish product, I am so glad she ain’t like that, she pretty cruisey really, I am lucky, because if she was a lot of hard work, I might not be trying so hard to get to know her.
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.