“Guess I’d better put a bitch seat on my bike. Where’s Zo Zo?” My fist balls hating the idea of it already. No one rides on the back of my bike. Never thought I would see the day I let a broad have a seat behind me.
“Already called him. He’s at his garage.”
Shaking my head, I toss my empty beer in the trash as Hades laughs. “Good Luck.”
“Eat my ass,” I grumble and go out the back door.
At the garage, Zo Zo is waiting for me wearing a shit eating grin.
“Don’t even.”
Holding his palms out, he chuckles, and I pull my bike into the bay.
After I park and get off I turn around to find half the fucking club watching me like a Goddamned side show. Boogeyman, Cupid, Uno, Cocky, and Terror to name a few.
“The fuck you staring at?”
“Never thought we’d see the day. Brings a damn tear to my eye,” Boogeyman announces and wipes under his eye being a dramatic dick.
“When’s the big day,” Uno questions.
“Are you motherfuckers drunk or just that fuckin’ dumb. You know what—don’t even answer that.”
“You sure you’re gonna be able to ride with a big pair of tits pressing against your back, making your cock grow hard, while the vibration of the seat tickles your ass?” Cupid pipes in.
“Fuckin’ cocksuckers,” I mutter to myself and pull out my smokes. They’re such bastards. Putting a seat on the back of my bike changes nothing.
It means nothing.
No hidden meaning.
A courtesy.
Nothing more.
I’ll never settle down and claim a bitch.
Lighting up my Marlboro, I try to ignore them, but it is no use. My brothers won’t stop ribbing me until I snap.
“Make sure you let her know how big your dick is, so she doesn’t try to run at the sight of you, pretty boy.”
They can talk smack all they want. Just because I take care of my appearance doesn’t mean shit. I like to smell good. Nothing wrong with it. “Boogeyman, your one to talk with your bitch painting your nails and curling your hair or is that Terror and his bitch. You’re both so pussy whipped I can’t tell you apart.” I flick my ashes on his boot.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Zo Zo calls from behind me. “You whores are making my head hurt.”
As I am backing out of the bay, Cupid hollers, “Show it to her.”
“You’re sick. You know that, right?”
He shrugs. “The ladies seem to love me.”
“Except for MaryAnn,” Boogeyman snarls at him.
Cupid shoves him, and Terror is stepping between them. Boogeyman must know what is eating at their asses. Every damn time MaryAnn and Cupid get in the
same room it’s like a damn drama explosion. I’m afraid Hades will have to do something about it soon.
I’m not touching that shit.