Page 2 of Kick

“Good, then go clean your shit up before you ride out. You and Tank are going to pay our friendly neighbourhood dentist a visit. Bastard fucked with Raphe’s old lady. Been putting the moves on bitches while they’re under sedation. This time he picked the wrong bitch to fuck with.”

“Raphe doesn’t want a go at him?”

“Why the fuck do you think he isn’t at church? He already had a go, landed his dumb arse in jail because of it. Told him we’d have a little Kinder Sur-fucking-prise for him to play with when he got out.”

There’s a timid little knock on the door, and Prez leans back in his seat, scrubbing his hands over his face in agitation.

“What?” he yells, and then his eyes widen a fraction when the door swings open and he sees Raine, a pretty blonde with a bangin’ body and an even sweeter disposition, standing on the other side. “Come on in, darlin’.”

“Sorry, I’m interrupting,” she says, staring nervously between Prez and the rest of us sorry sons of bitches. She’s carrying a steaming cardboard cup of coffee and one of those little white bakery bags. She sets them down on the table in front of him. “I stopped by the bakery near my house this morning. It’s a warm crème brûlée muffin. They’re really good.”

“She wants you to eat her warm, sweet muffin, Prez,” Trigger says, waggling his eyebrows like a fuckin’ geriatric douche. His boyish good looks are mis-fucking-leading, because the dude is motherfuckin’ crazy. He’s like a kid with ADHD. On speed.

Prez glares, and Trigger quickly shuts up.

Prez took Raine on as a bar wench and occasional cook after she lost her job a few months ago at the local café we frequent. Most of the brothers take care of their own meals, and some of the lucky bastards head home to a cooked meal at the end of a long day and the same familiar pussy in their beds at night. And some of us eat take-out twenty-four fuckin’ seven. But food doesn’t prepare itself for club meets, and that’s where Raine comes in.

Far as I know, she’s alone in the world; no family and no friends, except a club full of criminals. Raine tiptoes around this place as if at any moment she’s afraid Prez is gonna turn her out on her arse, but he wants up inside that pussy bad; I’d seen it the first time I tagged along to the coffee shop with him, and I still see it every damn day. Prez is hard up for the vanilla bitch who makes his coffee and cleans his office. And I’d bet my last dollar that he’s wishin’ and hopin’ she could start cleaning his pipes, too.

“Well, I’ll just …” She points to the door, and scurries away like a little mouse.

“Sweetheart,” Prez calls to her, and she turns. He grins like the fuckin’ Cheshire cat. “I’ll savour every morsel.”

Raine’s eyes light up like a fuckin’ Christmas tree. She blushes and then leaves the room as silently as she entered, closing the door behind her. My brothers and I practically bust our nuts laughing. All except Grim. Dude needs his fuckin’ head checked ’cause Prez is gonna rip it off his shoulders if he catches Grim starin’ at Raine the way he does.

“Shut the fuck up,” Prez hollers, as pissed off as a fuckin’ cut snake. “Tank, don’t come back without that dentist.”

Tank nods. He’s a douche of few words.

“The rest of you,” Prez says, “we’ve got Bandits to meet with.” He bangs the gavel against the table and the room is filled with the sound of shuffling feet and shifting leather. I sit in my seat long after the others have piled out.

“You got somethin’ else you need to be discussing with me, Newbie?” Prez is standing in the door way, looking back at me with a pissed off expression on his face.

“No, Prez,” I say, and rise from my chair.

“Then get the fuck outta here,” he says, but before I can pass, his arm shoots out and stops me in my tracks. “Wait.”

“What’s up?”

“You been with Ivy?”

“Yeah.”

“I know why she’s a coke whore—the whole fucking club knows that kid is messed up—but you’re the only one that’ll let her whiny arse stay the night. Why is that?”

“’Cause I don’t care if she cries. She gets what she needs, and I get what I need. It works.”

“You gonna put her on the back of your bike?”

“Hell fucking no.”

“I like fucking her as much as the next brother, but that bitch is damaged goods, and not even you can tape that shit back together.”

“I’m not looking for an old lady, Prez. Made that mistake once before.”

He shakes his head, running a hand through his greased-back blond hair. “Life’s too fucking short for the same old pussy day in and day out, kid. Thank fuck for club whores or else my dick would have fallen off years ago. My old lady hasn’t let me inside since she found me in this very room, eatin’ out two pussies at once.”

“Can’t say I blame her, Prez.”

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