The Rage(14)

It’s all up to her now. Whether she accepts my help or not, she’ll know it’s there.



It’s been a few hours since I found Lala naked and bruised in my bathroom. She’s acting like nothing is wrong – all smiles for everyone around her – but I see the physical pain she’s in. She’s obviously been through this before, ‘cause she knows how to hide it from everyone around her. She doesn’t give shit away.

The party is off to a wild start. The music is loud and the crowd is even louder. Getting a new brother is cause for celebration, but getting two, especially nomads, is worth a party of epic proportions.

The drinks are strong and smoke of all kinds is heavy in the air. Standing by the pool table, I watch Lala like some sort of sick fuck, staring at her every chance I get. She’s layin’ low, staying with Cali and Lil. Trigger, a brother from another chapter, is standing with the girls, clearly staring down their fucking shirts. Lala starts to laugh at something he says, and I’m not liking that shit at all.

“Eye fuckin’ her, man?” Tags laughs. Yeah, so what?

“And?”

“And nothin’, brother. She’s a woman worth eye fuckin’, that’s all. So… she okay? Heard the bitches yappin’ ‘bout it.”

“I guess so.” Fuck, I don’t know. She sure as shit acts like it.

“You find out who did that shit ‘n ya wanna handle it? Just say the word and I’ll be right there with ya, brother.”

“Yeah, Tags. Thanks, brother.” That shit is all family right there.

I’m thinkin’ my words sunk in ‘cause Lala looks relaxed and at ease. I hope she knows she’s safe here. Wild shit happens daily around the club. We’re crazy, and most of us can be mean as fuck, but we would never do shit to hurt a woman or child. That shit that happened to Lil was fucked and isolated. It was beyond fucked, really. That sort of shit will never happen again. If you come into this club as a friend, you stay a friend as long as you’re straight, and I don’t see Lala as the type to fuck that friendship up.



“You want another drink?” Lala asks as she walks up to me a while later.

Shaking my head, I point at the bartender, “Nah, babe, she’ll get it. You want somethin’?”

I’m shocked as shit when she snakes her arm through mine and rests her hand on my forearm. She looks over to the long line of bottles to the side of me, pressing herself closer to me. She is all kinds of fuckin’ distracting.

“Hmm…. I’ll have what you’re havin’,” she says sweetly. With that, she snatches the shot from my hand, gives me a sneaky smile, and throws it back. Little shit. I’m starting to see why Lil and Lala are such good friends.

Having her this close and flirting with me does strange shit to my head. I’m so focused on her lips that I can’t remember what the fuck my name is or where I’m at. Her tight white t-shirt and those short black shorts are even more distracting. She has the most amazing long, lean legs. I just wanna grab them and wrap them around my waist, fill my hands with that perfect ass and suck on those big, beautiful round tits. I just can’t help that I want her so goddamn bad. It’s sick, really, but there it is.

We sit there ordering drinks and she is right there, meeting me drink for drink, or just flat out stealing my shit. She can have whatever the fuck she wants as long as she looks happy and is having fun. Picking on me is keeping a smile on her face, so it’s all good.

“You’re a thievin’ little shit. You know that, right?” She laughs and gets up to leave, but not before stopping and looking my way. You know what I do? I get up and follow her.





Lala

So far tonight I’ve met twice the people I did from the first party I came to. I’ve known Lil for a while now, and I’ve hung out with Peaches and Cali, whom I totally adore. I’m beginning to see some of the dynamics of the relationships here the more I come around. Gin and Peaches are a mess. They have that kind of relationship that scares the shit out of me, but it’s like a train wreck you just can’t help but watch. Cali’s man is Stitch. She’s just as crazy as Peaches, while Stitch talks a lot and laughs even more. He and Lil seem like the jesters of the club.

Tank is the boss man, and along with Rampage and Gin, they seem to run the place. Even though I have known Lil for quite some time now, I don’t know shit about Tank personally. He doesn’t speak to me… at all. He always looks like he’s thinking too hard, or he just looks pissed. Those are the only looks I’ve ever seen on him, so I just smile and keep my trap shut. I’ve also heard little bits and pieces about Low, Lil’s Dad, but no one speaks openly about him and I don’t ask.

I guess with the type of party this is, there are twice as many scantily clad women as the first time I was here. Lil said to ignore them. She said they show us respect, and if they don’t, I was to tell her, or one of the guys, and they’d be handled, whatever that means. As a whole, everyone seems nice enough, but with Rampage’s assurance that I’m safe here, I believe him.

I’ve had quite a few drinks and I’ve eaten some damn good barbeque, then I went back and had a few more drinks. I want… no, I need to have some fun, even if it’s just hanging out and chatting with people. I just wanna forget for a few hours about how fucked up my life is, and the Hell’s Disciples seem like the perfect people to just hang out with and be myself around for a while. They’re good people. They’re a family. They treat me like I’m one of them, and no one treats me like an outsider.

As I walk around, I start to feel a sway to my step. Those shots are starting to catch up. I’m not drunk, but I’ve drunk just enough to feel happy and carefree. I love that feeling, it’s just too bad it has to come from a bottle of alcohol.

I ungracefully sit down next to Lil. Getting up and down is painful as fuck, but I just try to take it as easy as I can without giving anything away. The fact that I’m drinking helps with my bad balancing issues, so I have that in my favor. Lil gently leans into me and I lean into her. Neither one of us say a word, and I’m so thankful that she’s not pressuring me for answers right now. We sit and watch the party going on around us for a while when I spot a set of hammocks. They’re chained from the corner of the shop to a couple of big poles in the yard. I get this overwhelming urge to go over and lay in one.

“Lil, can I sit in one of those hammocks?” Looking at the hammocks and back at me, she raises an eyebrow.

“You’re seriously asking?”

“Yes. It’s the polite thing to do,” I answer hesitantly.

Rolling her eyes, she says, “You can use whatever the hell you want around here. Only a few things are off limits; Chapel, the guys rooms – unless you’re invited in. Their bikes – again, unless you’re invited on, and the locked door by the front door. Other than that, have at it, baby.”

Slapping a kiss to her cheek, I clumsily try to skip my overly tipsy ass to the hammocks. I fight the twisted up mesh, but make it in alive and in one piece. Getting comfortable I lie back and push off, letting myself sway.

Swinging back and forth, I stare at the stars for a while. The air is crisp, but nice, and the sounds of the Eagles’ Hotel California play through the air. Voices and laughter swim around the yard, fire casts shadows on the cinderblock walls. I’m really starting to think this might be a little piece of heaven. I finally feel like I can breathe on this little secluded island, made of concrete, steel, and cinderblock.

“Sit up,” Rampage says from somewhere beside me. Rolling my head to the side, I stare at him standing over me. He seems calm and relaxed, but I shake my head no. I’m not giving my hammock up.

“Not movin’ ya. Joinin’ ya,” he grumbles, giving my side a little nudge with his hip as he lifts an impatient eyebrow.

“Fine,” I mumble, but I can’t stop the smile creeping across my lips.

He shakes his head and sits his beer on the ground. I sit up, straddling the hammock with my feet dangling off each side. Throwing a leg over the hammock, he sits himself behind me. His head rests on the high end and I’m sitting in between his legs.

“Lean back, Lala.”

Wrapping an arm across my shoulders and over my chest, he pulls me back. Sticking a leg off the hammock, he gives it a good push, making us sway back and forth. He keeps his arm wrapped around me while reaching down for his beer with the other.

We swing. He doesn’t say anything and neither do I. I just enjoy the soft rocking and Rampage’s arm holding me close. Tilting my head to one side, I hear his steady heartbeat. Pressing closer, I listen to its slow, even rhythm; soothing and comforting.

“Never sat in this thing,” he grumbles out of nowhere. I’d sit in this thing all day, every day if I had one. Hell, I’d even sleep in it.

“Yeah? Why not? I love these things.”

“Figured they were Lil’s or somethin’. Guess I never cared enough to ask.”

“Well, I’m claiming this one,” I tease.

Throwing his head back, he lets out a deep laugh. “Whatever ya say, babe. You want it, it’s yours.”