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“Shut up, Shee,” I whispered. “Who knows how I feel about Big Al?”
“Just me, and that’s because we’re pretty close friends. Big Al has more honour in his little finger than most men have in their entire body. Tati, he won’t touch you because you’re under his care,” Shee warned.
I glared at Shee, hating the truth of what he was saying. “Will Al ever touch me?” I whispered, and Shee sent me a sympathetic look. Guess that was a sharp no.
“Big Al doesn’t go near any of the club whores,” Shee said, and I perked up.
“For how long?” I asked.
“From the day he rescued you. Man wasn’t touching them much then either, but I know he’d find someone clean for a night. Since Big Al had you dragged from the clubhouse, there’s been no one. Man comes home every night, doesn’t he?”
“Unless it’s club business,” I agreed. Could Big Al secretly wish to be around me as much as I did him? And if yes, how to make that opening move without Big Al instantly slamming up barriers?
“Tati, wait till you’re older because right now, Big Al will knock you back and strain your relationship,” Shee advised.
“Well, my fucking vibrator is going to wear out soon!” I hissed at Shee.
Shee screeched and choked with laughter, spraying beer everywhere.
“Tati!” he gasped, Big Al’s eyes turning to me. I sat there and looked utterly innocent.
One year later, winter 1998.
“You let me have one on my eighteenth,” I demanded, my hand out to Big Al and hip cocked. Big Al quirked an eyebrow as he dangled my beer out of my reach. It was just the two of us tonight. We’d ordered pizza and watched a couple of movies.
“That was your eighteenth,” Big Al rumbled.
“I’m a whole year older now,” I retorted, and Big Al threw his head back and laughed. Still as fucking sexy. I’d burned through two vibrators trying to control myself.
“So you are. Tell me who you’re dating at college,” Big Al bribed, and I narrowed my eyes.
“Nobody. They’re all children. God, can you imagine being around them? Whiny little boys who each think they’ve got a big cock. They’ve got weenies in their pants.” I sulked. The college guys did little for me. I went to the community college because I’d had a hissy fit when Big Al tried to send me away.
I knew he’d attempted this because of the trouble Hellfire was getting into. Zeus was leading them down paths that Big Al and Chance fought all the way but lost time and time again. Money had become the be-all and end-all of Hellfire MC, and it broke my heart to see Big Al when they lost a vote. Chance was breaking himself to make legal cash and head-butting with Zeus over it.
I’d asked Big Al how it had worked before, and he said they all had their own job and paid ten per cent into a pot. That kept the club afloat; if any brother needed help, the fund was there. Now Zeus’s side was running drugs and arms for the cartel. Big Al, Chance and our Hellfire, as I thought of them, had vigorously tried to vote it down years ago and lost. They lost because the other assholes saw dollar signs. Big Al had staunchly refused to deal with shipments. So had our Hellfire led by Chance.
Several times, Big Al admitted to me that Zeus had screamed at them to leave, to form their own club, and each time, Chance told Zeus he owned the land. I guessed that pissed Zeus right off because Chance informed Zeus that even if he died, there were plenty of people in line to inherit. At the moment, Chance was enjoying pissing Zeus off, ignoring commands and orders and keeping those he called family clean.
Zeus had tried forcing a vote to kick Chance out of the VP spot twice in the last year, and both times Chance had won somehow. Possibly because Chance said if he lost VP, then they could all get the fuck off his land, and Hellfire would need to find a new clubhouse. While Chance couldn’t win president, Zeus was also stymied because he couldn’t force Chance out. They literally had one another by the balls.
Big Al would come home terribly stressed, but half an hour relaxing with me lifted the weight from his shoulders. We talked about his day and how his shop was running. He owned a pawnbroker and tried to keep it apart from Zeus’s crew. Zeus kept demanding Big Al launder money through it, and Big Al outright denied him access to the brokers. I’d taken bookkeeping at college and was now working with Big Al on the weekends, going through his paperwork to get experience.
He’d banned me from the shop, not wanting any of Zeus’s gang to catch a glimpse of me. To be honest, I ultimately agreed with his decision. I’d been working in the backroom one day when one dropped by. The conversation between Big Al and the guy called Watcher was disgusting. Big Al’s clearly disagreed with Watcher. Watcher talked about how females only existed to serve the brothers of Hellfire and were easy pussy. Their thoughts, feelings and opinions didn’t matter in the slightest to Watcher. The discussion made Big Al furious, and Watcher chuckled and told Big Al to grow some balls.
From what I could guess, the twat was drunk or high. That was the last time I’d been in the shop. Afterwards, Big Al, point blank, refused to risk my safety. Luckily, none of those assholes had set foot in our new home. But even so, I declined to use the swimming pool that came with it in case one of them dropped by. I only used it when one of the real Hellfire brothers was around. So for nearly eighteen months, I’d hidden from Zeus and his gang of merry men. They didn’t know I lived with Big Al, and that was how we all liked it.
“Hey honey, you with me?” Big Al clicked his fingers in my face.
I jumped as he broke my reverie and gazed at him.
“Fuck the beer. You’re a pussy tease,” I said suddenly.
Big Al looked shocked.
“Pussy tease?” Big Al asked slowly.
“Yes, you heard of cock tease? Well, you’re a pussy tease!”
