I felt bad for Max, seeing what was written on the walls, yet she barely looked at them, almost like she had seen it all before, and worse. That only made me mad, and the urge to protect her, but I get this feeling that since she was kicked out of her home, she has started to blossom into a badass girl, and I like this one she is becoming. I get fed up with the shy, weak ones that come to you, bat their eyelids at you, and rub against you, get the badder side of you worked up, only because you are big and strong, not that I have a problem with that, if it strokes our egos. Still, often they get up to no good and expect you to bail them out, and that’s the part I don’t like: seeing our guys get used and not see it till it’s too late.
With Max, I feel it’s different; she wouldn’t use us as most of those drop-ins do. She will be a good asset, something bike clubs don’t usually recruit. This was a whole new ball game, having a woman enforcer. Don’t know what other clubs would think of this, and to be honest, I don’t care. Since when did our club care what other clubs think or do, as long as we aren’t at war and they are not encroaching on our turf, they can do what hell they like.
We arrived at Pixie’s house, and the stupid idiots didn’t even hide the car. Tugg opened the car door and popped the boot. They hadn’t even bothered hiding the evidence. There in the trunk of the car were empty cans of spray and a sledgehammer, which I assumed was what they had used to break the windows.
What I don’t get is why target our bike shop?
Bruiser had the men dragged out of their beds or wherever they were lying, and out to the back of the house; they would be interrogated out there. No one would care, not in this neighbourhood, they know to keep their noses out of other people’s business.
I watched the men disappear through the door, then followed Prez and Bruiser to the back bedroom. When we entered, Prez threw something at her, causing Pixie to wake up and start screaming, stupid biytch, we haven’t done anything to her yet.
“Call in Maxine,” Prez yelled out, and the call echoed down the hall. I turned when I saw movement, ready to fight, but it was Maxine, as she casually strolled down the hallway, as if this was an everyday occurrence; she didn’t glance around or scrunch her nose at the stench the place reeked of.
Max waited for instructions, staring at the crying Pixie, then at the sneer the girl gave her, when Maxine was told to give her a black eye. I don’t think Pixie thought Maxine would do it. The sounds of her fist hitting flesh and the collapse of Pixie made my day. I had wanted to do something like that for years.
Pixie was singing like a bird after that one punch.
Plans from a rival club to take her in after she gave them information on a supposed shipment, something I did not know about, doesn’t sound like something we had been dealing in. Maybe they had heard a whisper of something and hoped it was us. We’ve often been accused of things we weren’t doing, so it’s no surprise that she found nothing, and they were putting pressure on her to find out. I began thinking she was now out of her depth, alienating us, and not supplying the other. She’s stuck between a rock and a hard place.
She thought if she targeted the shop, they wouldn’t pin it on her, wouldn’t go looking, and she might be able to find out what she needed when lips go a-flapping. Stupid female, with what went down at the clubhouse, she was the first person I thought of.
“Pixie, get out of town. If you are still here tomorrow, expect more of what happened tonight. I suggest you take your boyfriends with you.” Bruiser growled at her, her eye swollen shut now, and swelling covers half of her face.
“I go, but why the guys?” Pixie sobbed out.
“It was their car, and according to the surveillance tapes, they joined in, so they are as guilty as you, GET OUT OF TOWN.” Maxine turned and left the room, sensing she was no longer needed. To watch her go, it appeared she wasn’t affected by all of this at all, but was that just a front, or had she become immune because of her bad life before joining us?
I hope she’s okay.
We left the house, the guys joining us from the back.
“Jones boys will be back tomorrow. If they don’t have info, they will get the same as what we gave them. They were very cooperative and will leave tonight.”
“Will they take Pixie, or has she brought them too much trouble to want to associate with her?”
“Nope, she’s on her own from here on out. They’re not even going to tell her, they’re going to pack and leave, while she sobs in her bedroom.”
“Let’s go home, get some sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow, if we have guests arriving in our town. Send out the alert through the usual channels.”
The sky was changing color. By the time we reached home, night was over, and I’m not sure if any of us will get any sleep now.
Nonetheless, we headed to bed, once we returned, and I fell into bed, shoes in all, not caring for much but some rest, if my brain would turn off. Max removed her boots and jeans, climbing in beside me and snuggling against my side. I lifted my arm and brought her to me. Leaned down and kissed her hair.
“You Good?” I asked, still concerned with the violence my little lady had to do, it goes against the grain having a woman who can deal that sort of violence, at the same time, it made me hard, she was hot, strong, and every inch the kind of woman, that just might cope with me, and my temper when it flares up.
“Yep.” She yawned as she replied.
“Really, that was pretty intense for a woman, no offence.” I tried to ask in another way, but I think I stuffed it up.
“I spent a lot of time on the streets. When I lost Gran, I was a lost soul, the only one that brought me back was Grandpa, he got me straightened out, but I still went out and found some fights when I needed to blow off steam.”
“What do you mean, spend time on the streets?” I was shocked.
Was she a prostitute?
No, she can’t be.
“Underground fights, and when things got tough for some of my friends I had made, homeless and lost kids, I came and helped sort it out, so I have seen houses that look like a rubbish dump, drugs, drunks, even know a few ladies that work the streets, that needed a hand to get their pimp in line. I helped keep the area where they lived a little safer for a while. Druggies and drunks live in a world of their own. When they are under the influence, a lot of harm can come to them if they are on their own. I tried to get them to stick together, and that worked for a little while, but they don’t care to live anymore; they live for the next fix, so slowly they drift away from safety and end up harmed or dead.” Her voice was emotionless, flat, like she had no feeling left to hurt.
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.