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Getting up from my table, I was a man on a mission as I stormed over there to them. Grabbed the woman’s glass, grabbed the man, hard at the jaw, squeezed until his mouth opened, and then poured the water down his throat.
Uncaring and not giving a fuck if the bastard drowned. Fucker better work his throat muscles.
Ignoring the patrons screaming and someone yelling out, “I’m calling 911, that’s assault.”
Funny thing about that, it was the girl that he was trying to roofie.
Slamming the glass on the table, I turned my glare on her as she spoke into the phone, “You tell them that in a few minutes or so when he goes limp, it’s because of the roofie he tried to slip into your glass of water when you were talking to your friend there. You wanted to be raped and have God knows what happen to you?” I asked her darkly.
She didn’t speak a word.
Tagging the phone from her hand, I placed the phone to my ear, “Who is this?”
“It’s Margaret with dispatch.” My favorite person ever.
“It’s Zeke darlin’. Let the boys in blue know I saw some punk slip something into this girl’s glass of water here at Maggie’s. Didn’t want her to have that and figured he needed a dose of his own medicine. Besides, he looked a little thirsty.”
All she did was chuckle and promise me that she would relay the news.
“Be there Saturday to mow your lawn,” I told her before handing the girl's phone back to her.
“Zeke. What happened?” Maggie asked as she came over with a white cloth wiping off her hands.
“Pull your tapes, Mags, police will need them.” With that, I looked at the boy and saw his eyes start to roll in the back of his head and he was out like a fucking light.
Tagging my phone, I called the Pres. and filled him in on what had happened.
He let me know he was calling the club's lawyer to let him know, should they try to pin anything on me.
While Maggie pulled the tapes so the three cops that walked in could see what took place I walked back over to my table, sat down, and then started to eat my double bacon cheeseburger that had been dropped off while I was dealing with the piece of shit.
The fucker was handcuffed and taken to the hospital when they returned from Maggie’s office.
And before I could pay, Maggie told me my meal was on the house.
Oh, and the girl walked over to my table and gave me her phone number with a sultry grin… fucking really?
I can’t make this shit up.
That piece of paper was left on the plate along with my trash as I nodded to Maggie and walked out to my bike.
Starting my lady up, that I had dubbed as Marilyn because I had a pearl white gas tank and pearl white accents on it, I checked the street before I pulled out and headed to the garage at the clubhouse.
An hour later I got a call from the Sheriff that the boy wasn’t pressing charges. Hell, I would have laughed my ass off if he had. It wouldn’t be the first assault charge I had thrown at me. And I doubted it would be the last.
When I walked into the clubhouse, I had a little body start running towards me. Leaning down, I scooped our little princess up in my arms. “Have a good day, Chels?”
“Yes, Uncle Zeke. Come look at my newest creation,” she smiled as she pointed over to the corner that everyone dubbed as Chelsea’s corner where her paints were set up.
Chelsea was different from other kids, but none of us treated her any differently and we would kick the ass of anyone that dared to do that. She was born with an extra chromosome, and that just added to her awesomeness.
Seeing the picture she painted, I was once again floored. She had every member and ol’ lady and kid in the picture. I was always amazed at her talent.
“That looks bad a… butt, Chels,” I told her with excitement in my tone.
“Thank you. I’m happy with it.” Grinning, I sat her down on her feet and nodded to Powers.
That was when his phone rang; walking over to the bar, I tagged a bottle of beer and then turned my head to Powers when I heard his intake of breath, “You’re fucking shitting me.”
