Angel (3 page)

I’m wearin’ just my boots and boxers, sitting and sipping slowly on the last couple of beers, and watchin’ Amber washing our clothes way over on the other side of the warehouse. We just washed as best we could with the cold fuckin’ water from the bathroom, but I can still taste pussy on my tongue and smell it on my stubble. I fuckin’ like it.

I’m thinking about rolling up a joint when my cell phone rings on the table. I check the number – Butch.

“Yeah?”

“We got a fuckin’ problem,” he warns.

“We got plenty fuckin’ problems.”

“That bitch of yours, Angel, she’s not workin’ out. The Cartel is pissed.”

My balls ache just at the mention of her name. I close my eyes, and I can see her beautiful tits, those cherry-bomb nipples, that ass that was made for fuckin’.

“She’s not my bitch anymore,” I state.

“You fuckin’ trained her. And you fucked up,” he snarls.

“I had one fuckin’ week! There ain’t a cocksucker on the planet who can train a bitch in one fuckin’ week!”

Butch pauses before speaking, and I can tell he’s about to drop something big.

“They wanna give her back.”

Shit.

It hits me like a punch to the gut.

Angel’s the girl that nearly made me leave everything. The club, the training, the whole fucked-up lifestyle. The only reason I can fuckin’ hold my shit together now is that I’d given up ever seeing the bitch again.

I can’t fuckin’ speak, and Butch continues.

“She’s a tight piece of ass, but she can’t take a beatin’, and she sure as hell ain’t got the skills to keep these Cartel cocksuckers happy.”

“I don’t buy it, Butch. They’d put a bullet through her brain sooner than they’d hand the bitch back to us,” I explain.

“They wanna cut a deal. I had to break my fuckin’ balls to get it, but I got it. They don’t wanna give up on our supply just yet,” he says.

“What’s the deal?” I ask.

“They return Angel, and we give them another bitch – a well-trained bitch this time. And the money back with interest. It ain’t fuckin’ cheap, but the alternative is they shoot the bitch we gave them, and our whole fuckin’ reputation in the sex trade business goes to shit.”

A well-trained bitch. I

look up at Amber, scrubbing my cut and carrying it outside to hang in the sun.

“It’s a shitty deal,” I say.

“It’s the only fuckin’ deal we’re gettin’, Luc, and you’re gonna fuckin’ take it,” he orders.

“Can’t we give them Randy? The fucker deserves it.”

I’m pissin’ Butch off, stalling him while I spin the fuckin’ scenario around in my head.

“Fuck you, Luc. You’re lucky you’re getting this chance. Fuckin’ around with this Angel bitch, letting Lilith live so she can come back and torch the fuckin’ club. You’ve been training pussy so long you’re turning into one. The fuck you think you’re doing? This club –
I
- fuckin' saved you. You forget that?”

“I don’t forget shit.”

“I don’t forget either. Anyone else and we’d be dragging your corpse up and down the Arizona desert, but you been good to this fuckin’ club. Your training is good business. If the business ain’t there though, that’s a whole new fuckin’ story,” he threatens.

Butch is right. I’ve been banking on the club needin’ me for a long time now, if they didn’t, I’d be dead already.

“That psycho bitch, she still with you?”

I watch Amber walk back in and pick up the basin of water.

“Yeah. She’s still with me.”

“Train her. Train her good. You bring her back to us, we make the swap, and you get back into the club. We move on from all of this shit and start actin’ like the LLMC again. No more bitch drama. No more fuck ups. We do our business the way we did before. Nice and fuckin’ simple. You understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. How long is it gonna take to get the bitch’s ass ready for the Cartel?” he asks.

“Give me three days.”

“Three days. No more,” he confirms.

Butch hangs up. I toss the cell phone onto the table and drop my head into my hands.

I tie the bitch up and go out for beer, food, and smokes. She knows she can’t get far on her own, but I got too much shit on my mind to worry about chasing her around the fuckin’ desert. I start drinkin’ before I even get back to the warehouse, my head is spinnin’.

I try not to, but I keep thinkin’ about Angel. About getting her back, about keepin’ her for myself, about pussyin’ out of my whole fuckin’ life and settling down.

Fuck.

I can’t believe how fuckin’ soft that is, but it keeps rattlin’ ‘round my brain like a loose part of a fuckin’ engine. I trained a lot of bitches. Blonde, brunette, redhead. Spoilt little daddy’s girls with virgin pussies, bored fuckin’ housewives that never saw a day of excitement in their lives, street bitches that thought they knew how to give head and shake ass before I came along. Bitches that put up a fight, bitches so scared they’d black out when I walked in the room.

But something about Angel was different. I get back to the warehouse and drive myself fuckin’ crazy, walking in circles tryin’ to figure this shit out. The way she looked at me, like she was readin’ my fuckin’ thoughts – and when I look back, it’s like I could read hers too. The way her body fit so fuckin’ perfectly against mine…

I pick up a metal rod and start poundin’ away on a machine. Amber’s sittin’ in the corner, starts fuckin’ cryin’, but I gotta let it out. I smash the pole ‘til it’s bent to shit and toss it away. I put my foot through the chair, throw the fuckin’ table over, sendin’ all the empty beer bottles flying. There’s a window in the wall, and I put my hand through it.

I stand there, breathin’ through my nose, boilin’. My hand’s bloody; I wipe the sweat off my head.

I want that bitch back. I want her for myself.

And all I have to do is hand Lilith over.

Two women, one decision.

I turn my head and see Amber a ways off. She’s pressin’ herself up against the wall, lookin’ at me with big eyes like a fuckin’ deer in the headlights.

“Get over here,” I say. She moves real fuckin’ slow. “Now!”

She gets near me, and I grab the bitch by the back of her head and force her to look at me.

“Your time has come. You’re going to the Cartel in three days. You better fuckin’ toughen up.”

The bitch’s face goes fuckin’ blue, and her body goes stiff. She looks like she’s about to faint. She closes her eyes like she’s going to sleep.

“You hear me, bitch?”

She opens her eyes a few seconds later and smiles.

Shit.

Lilith.

“I hear you, darling. I always hear you.”

I’m so fuckin’ tired that I fall asleep on the floor, sittin’ up against the wall, a beer in one hand and a cancer stick that’s just dry ash in the other. I’m so fuckin’ beat that I forget to tie the bitch up, but it doesn’t matter, she crawls up in between my legs like a fuckin’ kitten and sleeps with her head just beside the crotch of my jeans.

I don’t know if it’s the fuckin’ pain in my cut hand, or just all the shit that’s goin’ on, but I keep dreamin’ and wakin’ up. I dream about Angel. The night in the motel. Shavin’ her pussy, makin’ her do all the things I wanted, and her doin’ them with that perfect fuckin’ body. I dream about the fuckin’ club burnin’ down, about wakin’ up with a pistol against my head. I dream about bein’ a rat, and that Butch and Randy are chasin’ me around, and I’m lookin’ for somewhere to hide, but just when they’re about to catch me…

“I can’t go.” It’s Amber, she’s fuckin’ cryin’, talkin’ to herself. I can feel her wet tears seepin’ through my jeans.

I open my eyes as much as they’ll go. It’s the middle of the night. I look down at her body. The tats, the soft curve of her relaxed muscles. She looks too fuckin’ fragile. It’s the same shit all over again. Amber can’t take this shit, and I can’t teach her how to take it in three fuckin’ days. The Cartel will eat her alive – especially if they’re expectin’ Lilith, and all they get is this weak bitch cryin’ instead.

Amber has to fuckin’ go.

I toss the burnt cigarette away, wet my throat with a hit of beer, and put the bottle down. Amber hears it and peeks up at me.

“Get my weed.”

She gets up slowly, and walks over to where she emptied the pockets of my jeans before washin’ them. Then she walks back, kneels like some fuckin’ geisha girl, and hands me the weed and papers.

“Sit down,” I say, gesturing beside me. She sits up against the wall to my left, holdin’ her knees up under her chin. She sits with a good foot between us, and I give her a look. She reads it and shuffles up close, so her arms are touchin’ mine. I roll up a joint and light it. I take a long drag, raise my head, and push the smoke into the air. Then I feel Amber’s hand on the crotch of my jeans. I look at her. She’s nervous, not sure if I want it or not. Bitch obviously ain’t as trained as I thought she was, but it’s like in the desert all over again. I guess she sees in my eyes I don’t mind, and she unbuttons the top of my jeans and puts her hand on my cock. I ain’t hard, but her hands feel good. Nice and slow.

I hand her the weed, and she takes a hit, coughing a little. If I wasn’t so fuckin’ stressed I’d be feelin’ real fuckin’ relaxed, this bitch’s hand on my cock and a joint in my hand. Instead, all I’m thinkin’ about is the last time I smoked – with Angel in the motel room…

I look over at Amber. The tats on her body. Skulls, knives, demons, even Latin shit. Bitch really has a fuckin’ past. She takes another hit and hands it over. I run my fingers up the inside of her thighs, feelin’ the grooves of the burn marks. I take another long, deep drag, and give it back to her.

“Hold it in,” I say.

She looks at me and nods. I’m still brushin’ my fingers against the inside of her thighs, feelin’ the scars.

“How did you get these?” I say. Her hand stops rubbing my cock, but then she exhales a big puff of smoke, lets her shoulders relax, and starts rubbin’ again.

“It happened when I was young. I was burnt.”

“No shit.”

She offers me the joint back, but I urge her to take another hit instead. I got a feelin’ that if the bitch talks, maybe I can figure out how all this Lilith and Amber shit began – and maybe even how to lose Amber.

She takes a hit, holds it, and then starts talkin’. “My uncle. He used to do things to me. I guess it happens to a lot of girls.”

“What kinda things?”

“Things I was too young for.”

She looks at me with those big fuckin’ Bambi eyes. I take the joint and smoke.

“He fucked you?”

She shrugs her shoulders.

“Yeah. Hurt me, too.”

“How?”

“He liked fire. Liked burning things. He had this burn mark, on his chest. Where the skin was real bumpy. He used to take things, like coat hangers, heat them up on a stove, or with this petrol lighter that he had, and then…” she hangs her head, and makes a small gesture with her hand toward her thigh. I can tell she’s getting agitated, because her hand starts pinching real fuckin’ tight on my cock. I offer the joint to her. She takes it, draws it down to the roach, and tosses it. I start rollin’ another. “Sometimes he made me do it to him, too.”

I light the joint, hopin’ she doesn’t notice, take a puff, and then give it to her. I put my hand over the one she’s holdin’ on my balls and get her goin’ again. It seems to calm the bitch down a bit.

“I guess that’s where Lilith comes from.”

She nods.

“Yeah.” She smiles. “She started protecting me; taking the pain. Lilith kinda likes it.”

Her fingers start playin’ with my balls, like just thinkin’ about Lilith makes her more confident.

“One night, my uncle was there. My mum was gone. It was just me and him. Lilith was there. My uncle came to my room, started taking his clothes off. Untangling a coat hanger. Lilith didn’t want to, though. She’d had enough. She started arguing with him. Fighting. He didn’t like that. He started hitting her, but she kept getting back up, laughing in his face. She told him she’d kill him as soon as she got the chance. I don’t know what happened to him; he went crazy. Started panicking, crying. It was like he was scared of her.”

“What happened?”

“He got a hold of her, and tied her down to the bed. He’d never done that before. Then he took this can of lighter fluid he used to carry, and started squirting it all over the house. All over himself. He lit it, and the place when up in flames. Him too. He just lay there, burning, like he wasn’t even feeling it.”

“And Lilith?”

“She kept struggling, kept trying to get free. It took a long time, but she did it.” She takes one more hit of the weed and tosses it. “If it had been me, I’d probably have just laid there. Dying.”

I look at the window and there’s a crack of light, we’ve been sittin’ there for the whole fuckin’ night. I don’t know why, but I just look at the sky out the window for a long while before I say it.

“That’s why Amber has to die.”

She gives me the fuckin’ pleading bitch eyes again.

“I see you. I know you. I am you.” The words fall out of my mouth like truths carved in rock, like it’s automatic. I pull her hand out of my jeans and shuffle around so my back is toward her. Then, I take off my cut. She gasps slightly when she sees the burn marks, even though she must have seen them already. I feel her fingers trace them, lightly.

“How?” she whispers.

“It happened when I was young, too. My mom’s bitch-ass boyfriend. Real fuckin’ asshole. He detested my ass, and I hated his even more. Just before he slit her throat, he lit my ass on fire.” I put my cut back on and lean back against the wall. Amber just fuckin’ looks at me, then she puts her hand back where I want it. “I just fuckin’ ran,” I continue, “I must have been about twelve, thirteen maybe. Women liked me, took me in, gave me shit. That’s where I got to know how to train. All the other time I was sleepin’ in alleys, under bridges. Fightin’ over food, or a few fuckin’ dollars. I learnt that nobody – fuckin’
nobody
– can be trusted. You’re alone in this shithole, and if you ain’t willin’ to tread on people – bitches, family, your fuckin’ club, whoever – then they’re sure as hell gonna stomp all over you, first fuckin’ chance they get.” I drain the bottle of beer by my side and throw it into the center of the warehouse. “As Amber, you don’t have a fuckin’ hope in hell. She’ll get chewed up and spat out. She’s not like me and Lilith. She can’t survive in the darkness of the world we live in. She should be dead already. Lilith does have a chance though. The only chance.”

She starts cryin’, and before I know it, she’s planted her head against my chest, huggin’ me tight. I violently shove her away from me.

“This is exactly the kind of shit I’m talkin’ about! Fuck! Do you see me cryin’ about my past? Even I’m fightin’ to keep my shit together.” She cries harder. “There’s only two things a bitch like you is gonna end up as: A slave, or dead. And I ain’t got the time to make you a slave.”

She reaches for me, but I push her hand away. Tears stream down her face, and her body is shakin’. She calms down a little, and then looks me in the eye, like she’s waitin’ for me to say somethin’ nice, somethin’ soft, somethin’ else – but it ain’t comin’.

She puts her hand on my jeans again, and I realize I been gettin’ harder all this time she was rubbin’ me. I let her pull my jeans down and grab my cock. She puts her lips on it, real soft. She ain’t like Lilith, no wild tongues, no crazy eyes. Amber treats my cock like she fuckin’ worships it, like it’s her fuckin’ lover. Her hands run up and down the shaft, onto my balls, brushin’ real gentle, and her mouth is soft. Small sucks, but she’s makin’ sure I feel every one, pullin’ away in between just long enough to make the next one feel even fuckin’ better. She kisses and prays to my cock for what feels like hours, until I’m on the edge for so long, and it’s feelin’ so fuckin’ good, that when I let go the come seems to emerge from deep in my gut, gushing into her mouth and leavin’ a warm, ball-achin’ feelin’ all over my body. She rubs her finger in the come that drips out of the sides of her lips, playin’ with it, relishing it.

I watch her, thinkin’ about what a damn fine bitch she would have made, if I had the fuckin’ time, if we didn’t need Lilith, if I wasn’t hidin’ out in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere, waitin’ for the shit to hit the fan.

It’s a damn fuckin’ shame. Just like the rest of this bitch’s life.