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“Shit, Billy!” I holler, rolling my eyes.This is not our normal routine. We always meet up somewhere, not go to one another’s place!
“I'm sorry, we’re having a party at the clubhouse tonight for three new prospects. I had to go on a run and totally forgot to call you, and now I won't have time to come by... please,” he begs in his most flirtatious voice.
“Fuck! Okay, I will be there around eight,” I sigh. I don’t want to go there, it’s a damn club, for Christ’s sake, and I’ll stand out being there.
“Thanks, sweetie, you’re a lifesaver. See you tonight,” he replies appreciatively.
If Ben decides to go in as partners with me, I am going to have to figure out somewhere else to keep this stuff. If I am ever found out and the authorities come in here, it would not just be me in trouble anymore. As a partner, they would hold him responsible too. That would be bad because he would be pissed to find out there was more in here besides the cancer patients’ marijuana. He and Jenna don't know about me selling to the Rush Riders.
The flower shop really only makes a good profit on Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day, it really just holds its own the rest of the year. So even after selling my mom's house I was still struggling to pay for the medical bills and funeral expenses. In order to make ends meet and cover the cost of supplying the marijuana for free to the patients, I sold marijuana secretly on the side to other people. College students are my biggest customers, but pretty much all walks of life smoke It, from CEOs to the guy bagging your groceries. With the profits I have managed to get all the bills paid off. I like the money and I like a lot of the people I meet doing it. Truthfully, I sometimes even like the feeling of doing something wrong.
I grab an outfit, some jewelry, and my cheetah print high-tops and put them in my gym bag.
I then go over to the filing cabinet, the bottom drawer locks so I have to dig through the desk to find the key. Gosh, I have a lot of keys.Unlocking the drawer, I grab the gun I have hidden there. I really don't know anything about guns. Walter down at the gun shop gave me this one. His wife was going through chemotherapy, and I was delivering one of the special vases of flowers to him when we struck up a conversation, during which he asked me if I owned one. When I told him no, he walked over to one of his gun cases and took out a Glock 21 pistol and some ammo. Handing it to me, he showed me how to load it and said, “What you’re doing is dangerous, you need it.” He insisted I take it. He wouldn't even let me pay for it. I keep meaning to take one of the classes he told me he holds, but I have just not had any time to do it. Besides, I rarely ever take it with me, but since I am going to a motorcycle club, it might be a good idea.
Shoving the gun in the bag, I then head out to the warehouse and go to where I hide the marijuana I sell to the public. I shove the zip of Will Robertson, which is named after a character from the TV showLost in Space, because when you smoke it that's what you are. Grabbing the marijuana, I put it in the gym bag and zip it up, which makes me start thinking about the word zip. The word zip in marijuana lingo means ounce. I shake my head, people who smoke marijuana—especially the recreational users—have their own language. It is really hard to keep up with sometimes because they add new slang terms every day it seems.
9
C
Getting in my truck, I take the gun and marijuana out of the gym bag, putting them in the glove box of the truck, and drive to Jenna's apartment to get ready for Parker's party. Arriving a Jenna's apartment, I grab the gym bag and head up to her unit. Jenna answers wearing boy shorts underwear and a lacy white bra, her figure curvy but so attractive. She reaches out to hug me but stops and scrunches her nose. “You’re sweaty.” She scowls.
“Well, I've been moving all day so...” I defend.
“Go get in the shower.” She points into her apartment. Jenna follows me into the bathroom and sits on the counter while I shower and tell her all about the encounter with my new neighbor. “Wow, he sounds like a dick. Don't let him get to you, C. You hold your ground and if he gets out of line, you call me,” she sasses, aiming her finger at her chest.
“After I'm moved in, I doubt I will see him much, so it should be fine,” I tell her, trying to convince myself more than her.
Jenna does my hair, styling the long, thick chestnut strands so my side-swept bangs blend perfectly with the soft curls flowing down past my shoulders. We fight about all the makeup she wants to put on me, but I allow her to apply eyeliner and mascara on my eyes, along with some blush on my cheeks. Jenna is beautiful: tall and curvaceous with long blond hair and blue eyes. She looks stunning in the black cocktail dress and high heel shoes she decided to wear for tonight, the dress hugs her ample body perfectly. Unlike Jenna, I hate dressing up,high heel shoes are the worst.So, I am wearing slashed, low-rise ankle jeans and a long-sleeved crop top shirt with a high low hemline. The back of the shirt is solid with the hem ending just at my butt. The front has a lace see-through panel built-in from the bottom of the crop top, just below my breasts to the hemline, making the sliver of skin between my belly button and the top of my jeans slightly visible. I finish with high-top, cheetah print tennis shoes with black laces. Jenna and I check ourselves one more time at the full-length mirror in her bathroom. When I look down at my watch and see it is seven thirty.I have to be at the motorcycle club at eight.Shit, I need to leave now.“Hey, Jenna, I need to go by and pick up Parker's present, so I need to go, okay?” I lie.I already got his present last week.
“Yeah, sure, I'll see you there,” she replies, walking me to the door.
God, I hate lying to her, but I can't tell her what I'm doing either.
Pulling up to the clubhouse it is seven fifty-nine. I can't really make out what the building looks like in the dark, other than it’s large. Steps lead up to the roof-covered deck of the building. A sign over the door where I see people going in and out reads Rush Riders. Grabbing the gun and the marijuana out of the glove box, I put the gun in the back waistband of my jeans, covering it with my shirt.Shit, this shirt is thin, but if I don't bend over no one should be able to see the outline of it. I grab my purse from the back seat of the truck and put the bag of marijuana and my phone in it. Entering the club, it is smokey and loud. “Shake It Off” by Taylor Swiftis blaring through the speakers and there are lots of girls walking around scantily clothed. There are men lined up at a bar on the right side of the room, drinking and laughing. To the left side of the room there are tables filled with people doing the same. I'm scanning the room looking for Billy, when a tall blond-haired, busty woman startles me. “Can I help you, darlin?” she asks looking me up and down, clearly noticing I don't belong here. “Um… I'm looking for Billy,” I shout over the music. Before she can answer, I spot Billy, who is in the back corner of the bar. He is standing on his tiptoes, stretching his head as high as he can, moving from side to side, trying to see around the people between us. Waving his hand in the air, he motions for me to come to him. “There he is,” I say, pointing to Billy, who is still stretching and waving at me. She looks at him and then back to me, looking me up and down before she scowls and disappears into the crowd of people. Walking through the bar, I notice at some of the tables girls are sitting on guys’ laps. Some of them are grinding their hips on the guys, and I'm pretty sure I saw one girl giving a guy a blow job, but I'm too embarrassed to look again for confirmation. Making it to Billy, I see he is at a table with a computer. With his dark blond hair in his eyes, I can’t see his them, but the smell of worn leather wafts around us from his sleeveless leather jacket. Leaning in my ear, he says, “Sorry I couldn't meet you outside, sweetie. I'm the DJ tonight and have to stay here,” he explains, pointing to the computer.
“Taylor Swift?” I question, pointing in the air toward the speakers.
“The girls dig it,” he answers with a panty-dropping grin.
“Ah, I see.” I smile and nod.
“I'll get Linc, he will take the stuff and pay you,” he says, looking over at the bar area.
“Wait, What?”Who the fuck is Linc? This is not good. I don't deal with people I don't know.
Billy doesn't answer me. He is on his tiptoes trying to look over a group of people standing between us and the bar. One of them makes eye contact with him, and Billy yells, “Linc?” The guy nods his head and turns toward the bar, where he yells at another man while pointing in our direction. The group of people move apart, clearing a visible path to the bar. My heart jumps up in my throat and starts pounding so hard I can hear it over the music. It's my new neighbor. He is sitting on a barstool with his arms around two blondes, one on either side of him. He is looking down, smiling at one of the girl’s tits, which are spilling out of the blue bikini top she is wearing, while she whispers something in his ear. A man beside the blonde nudges his arm and points in our direction. He looks up and our eyes meet. His eyes go wide and then he mouths the word, “Shit.” Getting up, he pats each girl on their leg, silently telling them to stay there as he walks toward us.
“There he is.” Billy points while wrapping his arm around my waist, pushing me through the pathway the people have cleared for us.
“Hey, Linc, this is C, the girl I was telling you about,” Billy shouts over the music, nodding his head down toward me when we get to him.
Linc nods back, not saying anything, while never taking his eyes off me.
“C, this is Linc, he will take the stuff and pay you,” Billy says, leaning in my ear. Then giving me a quick peck on the cheek, he runs his finger of his free arm across my belly along the sheer panel of my shirt and says, “I like this shirt.” Linc gives Billy a weird look and grabs my elbow, pulling me out of the arm Billy has wrapped around me and pushes me forward through the crowd. Exiting through a door to the left of the bar, he leads me down a long hallway not saying a word. The music and noise of the party getting harder to hear the farther we go. Letting go of my elbow, he opens a door at the end of the hall then nods his head, motioning for me to enter. I hesitate, looking inside the room, and then back to him. He tilts his head and quirks his eyebrows upward at me. Sighing, I enter the room, stopping in front of a desk that sits along the back wall. Linc follows, going around me to sit at the chair behind the desk. He’s wearing one of those leather jacket things that Billy wears, I’ve never noticed it on him before.
“Have a seat,” he says, leaning back in his chair with his left elbow on the armrest, his hand resting at his mouth, while motioning with his right hand to a chair beside me.
