My first official task was to pay off some
slovenly group of dirty bikers. Of course, Frankie kept company with the bottom
feeders.
We made it to this large two-story,
fraternity-style home in the backwoods somewhere. It definitely could use a new
coat of paint. It was decent for the type of people that live here. I open the
door to see Diesel ready to help me down. It was a lousy attempt at a cheap
feel and I was already in a bad mood. I hop down on my own and I hear him close
the door.
I walk up and knock; Diesel is right behind me.
I can feel his breath on my neck. I snarl, "Why are you so close?! Back
up, or I'll twist your balls off and feed them to the dogs."
He chuckles, "I like a chase, sweetheart.
Your brother said you were fair game, and I can't wait to feel that tight
little pussy around my dick."
Frankie said,
what?!
He's offering me up to his lackeys like a fresh
prostitute and I am livid. I'd slit Frankie’s throat in his sleep if I didn't
need him. He doesn't give a shit about me and right now, the feeling's fucking
mutual. The way I'm feeling, his flunky here is about to have a very agonizing
sex change.
"I don't give a damn what he told you!
Don't fucking touch me, you mongrel." In my anger, I slam my fist against
the door three times. I probably sounded like the police, but I didn’t give a
shit. Somebody better answer before I commit murder on their doorstep.
"Alright, wait a damn minute!" A
voice on the other side yells out. The door swings open and I'm staring at a
nearly naked beast of a man, but I’m really ogling his bare chest, a nice one
at that, except my eye is drawn to fresh scars on his arm that look like they
wrap around his back. They are a pinkish against his warm skin. I was so fascinated
I failed to see the irritation on his face until I looked up and he sneered,
"What?!" He stares down at me.
"What?! Don't they teach you basic manners
to address people when answering the damn door, or is it true what they say
about bikers? Nothing but a bunch of brainless Neanderthals."
Everyone was pissing me off tonight.
He looks behind me and recognizes Diesel,
"Hey, Frankie letting his whores deliver payment now?" He taunted as
he snatched the envelope. He was about to slam the door in my face, but I
wasn’t going to tolerate disrespect.
I stuck my foot in the way and put my arms up
against the door frame, "Despite your ignorant statement, you seem like a
decent guy, quite out of place to be a mangy, trashy biker, but what do I know,
huh? You might be as bad as my brother Frankie. I’m not some vagabundo (tramp) like that cadela (bitch) he's dragging around like a
fucking trophy. I don’t know why, she looks like any other $10 whore, but
whatever. IF there is a next time, I suggest you show me some respect, seu idiota covarde!” (you spineless
prick)
He raised his brow and shifted his weight while
rubbing his chin, the muscles automatically flexing in his chest and arms. He
was also in his boxers; I wonder if I interrupted his sleep or a good time? I
could hear female voices from behind the door.
"Did you call me a prick?"
Oh shit. I didn't expect him to understand me!
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