Page 56 of Burning Ember
“What?” she says as she looks up at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.
“Just get your ass downstairs.”
“Okay. Jeez. Can I at least use the restroom first?”
After staring her down for a second and meeting her glare for glare, I give a curt nod.
Then, as she goes to walk past me, I remember the unlocked door. Grabbing her upper arm, I ask, “Did you leave the door unlocked last night?”
Her eyes flit from my grip on her arm to my face. The blue in her eyes seems more dominant today. She tries to pull her arm from me but causes me to hold her tighter. “I did. But it’s not what—”
I growl. Yep . . . like a cave man. My fingers cinch even tighter around her arm.
Her eyebrows furrow as she wilts under my grip. “You’re hurting me.”
“Did I not make myself clear? They don’t touch you and you don’t touch them. That goes for Dozer too. Otherwise, what the fuck are you here for?”
She pushes her hair way from her face now and glowers. “You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you? There couldn’t possibly be another reason, could there? Like maybe . . . You know what?” That fake and innocent shell she was wearing when she came here is slipping. Falling away. The real Pumpkin, Doll, whoever she is . . . is coming out to play. And I’ll be damned if it doesn’t both piss me off and excite the hell out of me.
“What?”
“Things aren’t always so black and white.”
“They are in my world.”
My subconscious adds, until you came along.
“Then your world sucks,” she snaps.
Yeah, Doll. It does.But I don’t say that. Instead, I lean into her and point at her face. “This is the last fuckin’ time I’m gonna tell you to watch that fuckin’ mouth. Get changed and get the fuck downstairs.”
Sitting between Goose and Dozer, I eat breakfast. I’m still stewing over what went down in Dozer’s room.
“These pancakes? Or Frisbees?” Taz asks Bodie from two seats away.
“Don’t be an asshole,” Dozer hisses. To Pumpkin, he says, “They’re fine, babe.”
Taz picks up a pancake. “They smell like . . . turpentine.” He sniffs it and then spins it on the end of his fork for a second, before he flings it at Bodie.
Bodie jumps up from his chair. “The fuck?”
Whiz Kid, our newest prospect, busts a gut.
With a bewildered and dejected look, Pumpkin says, “I used the same mix . . .” Her eyes center on Taz.
“Don’t worry about it, babe.” Dozer reaches forward and pats her hand.
He’s lying. The pancakes taste like shit. Like someone thought it was a good idea to put vinegar in them. I’m guessing Taz did something, by the look on her face.
“Knock it the hell off. You guys are cleanin’ that shit up,” Dozer scolds Taz, Bodie, and Whiz, who just joined in.
“They’re not cleaning it up. Not their job,” I state.
“She’s not cleaning up after them when they’re acting like assholes.”
Taz shakes his hair and runs his hand over it dislodging food. He chuckles. “We’re fuckin’ bikers. We’re always assholes.”
I add, “If she can’t handle it, then there’s the door.”
