The thought of her against me has me hard. I can feel it straining against my fitted jeans.
“You working with a boner and shit?” Kash steps into the garage and laughs at my frustration. “You really have it bad for this girl. It’s written all over your face, man.”
“Maybe I do,” I say mostly to myself. “So what.”
He tosses me a beer and then opens one himself. “Leaves more women for me to fuck so no complaints from me, man. Just keep it separate from the club. If the women find out that two out of three of their favorite male entertainers are taken, then they’re going to come less and spend less money. You know this. You’ve already given the damn crowd a show with her. You and fucking Stone are going to mess things up for the damn club.”
I know Kash is right. Traffic slows down at the club each time one of us seems to commit, but that’s the least of my concerns. I have enough money in my savings account to get me by for five fucking years without making another dime from the club.
If Cale has to replace me, then he has to replace me. He’s a smart business man and knows what needs to be done. That’s exactly why I love the guy so much.
“I gotta go.” I stand up and slip my leather jacket on, once I realize that it’s close to one.
Kash gives me a confused look and watches as I set the unopened beer down and toss my tools aside, before walking my bike outside of the garage. “Where you going? We don’t work for another five hours.”
“Somewhere I have to. Just lock up for me and I’ll see you tonight.”
“Alright, man. I got you.”
Straddling my bike, I start it and take off down the road, my heart racing fast, just like it always does when I’m heading to this damn street.
So many thoughts and scenarios run through my head that I barely even remember driving there until I get to my destination and park.
Before I know it, I’m parked on the side of the road, down the street from my mother’s house with my bike facing the direction that I know he’ll be coming from.
I sit here and wait for twenty minutes, growing impatient and more on edge with each passing second that there’s still no sign of my father.
He’s late, which could be bad for my mother.
Finally, around one-forty he pulls into the driveway and gets out. He crosses his arms and looks my way, knowing that I’m here watching him. I always am now.
It only takes one look at my father to know whether or not he’s wasted and it’s usually after work that he would get fucked up and then come home to beat up on us.
That’s exactly why, no matter what the fuck I’m doing, I stop and make sure that I’m here every single day when he gets off. And I will continue to do this until the day I know my mother is safe.
I want him to know that I’m watching him. He lays one finger on my mother again and his ass is mine. He may not walk again, the next time he hurts my mother.
I watch him carefully as he uncrosses his arms and then walks to the door, walking a straight line just to piss me off and show off.
He’s sober. An asshole . . . but sober.
My eyes burn into his back, unwavering, until he’s inside the house and the door is closed behind him.
Giving myself a second to cool off, I sit and just watch my mother’s house to make sure there’s no arguing or screaming coming from it.
When I feel safe to leave her alone with him, I start my bike and take off, heading toward my favorite burger joint.
I’m about three blocks from Gill’s Burgers when I notice some asshole honking at cars and riding their asses as if he’s in a hurry.
It only takes me a few seconds to realize that it’s the asshole that hit me. I’ve been waiting to run into his ass again. “Oh fuck yes.”
He turns down a side street so I speed up and turn down another side street, knowing that I’ll meet up with him if I go fast enough.
I speed down three blocks and then turn left, blocking the road at the next stop sign, right as he comes to a stop.
Adrenaline courses through me as I jump off my bike and take wide strides over to the driver side of the car. He looks at me with surprise as I reach into the window to turn off his car and snatch the keys out of the ignition.
The driver looks extremely worried now as he watches me grip the opened window and flex. “You’re the asshole that hit me and you’re still out here driving like a fucking idiot.”
“Come on, man.” He reaches out for his keys, but I snatch them away and shove them in my pocket. “Give me my fucking keys. Sorry, it was an accident. I didn’t even see you there.”
“Fuck that shit. You should learn how to drive or stay the fuck off the road, before you kill someone. Got it, asshole.”