‘It’s time.” As one, we headed for the door, and the sensor lights flicked on, lighting the car park. I headed to mind and grabbed my lid before climbing on the back of Tank’s bike, gaining a number of smart comments aimed at Tank for having a blowfly on his back.
He tapped my leg and ran his hand from my thigh to my knee. I snuggled in close behind him, trying to enjoy his warmth. I prefer to be still in bed sleeping; this was way too early, not even the roosters are up yet.
–
The vibration of the bike, between my legs, felt different as passenger, it been a long time since I was on the back of a bike, I used to pillion with Grandpa, when he took his shovel out to ride, that was before Grandma passed away, and he still enjoyed the wind in his face, once the died, our rides became less, I am unsure why, but eventually his gave up riding and sold his Shovel, it was a nice bike.
We reached the bike shop in record time. The place had the main window smashed, and graffiti on the walls, calling me all sorts of names, which was nothing new, I had been called much worse than what was on display here.
I looked through the window and sighed in relief; they didn’t go into the shop and cause damage, only the window, and added paintwork.
“Max, you know this rego?” I was handed a phone that showed a picture of a car number plate.
“Not my ex family, but that was the car that dropped Pixie off at that party night, they almost hit a tree on the way in, I held back because I thought the driver might be drunk, and not worth the risk of overtaking.” I handed the phone back.
“I thought as much, she’s pissed for being kicked out for a month, and that you got Tank,” Stoner said, taking his phone back.
“She will get what’s coming to her, if this was her handiwork, I hear someone say no cops, let me know what you need me to do.” I wanted to skin that girl alive; she had annoyed me since the first day I visited, giving us girls grief because we were in the patch side of the clubhouse, where she was still stuck in the visitors section. Then to sneak out the back into our kitchen and corner Tank like that, on a day when no visitors were supposed to be even on the grounds, was a breach of security, and believe the guy at the gate at the time was doing nom work for a month.
“Head to her house, let’s see if she’s home.” Some of the guys stayed behind with Mike to do a clean-up and board up the window till we can get a glazier in. Maybe they should put reinforced glass in, make it harder to break. My thoughts, of course, no way would I voice my opinion, being the only female in this bunch.
Back on Tank’s bike, my mind was overactive, playing out scenarios in my head, not that I would do half of what I came up with, but it helped calm me down. I was anxious for this confrontation, it would be the first time, I would be used in this way, and I have no clue if it was something I want to do, I have a lot of pent up anger and hurt, and I was worried that given the chance to let it out, this girl would get more than she bargained for. I think the boys would be shocked too, I can lose sight of the objective, if I let the blood lust take control.
The car that was at the scene was parked in the driveway of a small, old wooden home, one that could do with a lick of paint and some garden work. It would be cosy if it were fixed up and cared for.
I waited out front, by the bikes, until I was called. Some went around the back, while the Prez and Bruiser went to the front door. A smaller man darted forward and took something out of his back pocket, and they were in before I could blink.
That was scary, I thought, about how fast they got in. Not many houses would be safe with these guys if they chose to enter without permission.
A scream came from inside, a lot of yelling, and the sounds of a fist or two, hitting flesh.
“Max, come in.” A voice called from inside the house.
The steps felt like they would give as I climbed the four broken steps; the boards underfoot creaked as I stepped onto the porch and into the house. The house was dark, and smelt damp, and of stale beer. Last night’s pizza boxes were open on the lounge table, beer cans scattered on the floor.
I followed the sounds of crying to a bedroom, out back. Tank was standing outside the door.
Inside, it held a single bed, clothes piled in heaps on the floor, and the wardrobe door was open, with nothing inside, which wasn’t a surprise given what was on the floor. A broken mirror above a chest of drawers.
Bruiser and Prez were in the room, making the room feel small and cramped. Pixie was on her knees, pleading; she didn’t do anything; it wasn’t her.
Her eyes flicked to me, and she scoffed at the sight of me, a smirk on her lips which disappeared quickly.
“Max, a black eye, please,” Prez said, which had Pixie look at me, not with fear; it was almost like she didn’t believe that I would hit her.
I hit her, I closed my fist on my left hand, and walked casually up to her. She watched me arrive.
“Her, you think she got it in her to hit me, just because she caught me unawares in the kitchen?” Pixie stood up to confront me, trying to intimidate me.
I guffawed at the thought.
I swung my left hand and punched her in the eye, catching everyone by surprise. No one expected a left punch, not even Bruiser, as I can give on both hands almost at the same strength. It was part of the training to use both hands in a fight.
Pixie yelped as she fell to the floor, her hand to her face, tears in her eyes, a look of disbelief on her face.
“You know we don’t like to hit girls, so you tried to use that against us, but we have someone who doesn’t mind hitting girls.’ Prez stated, staring at the sobbing girl.
Tank POV
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.