Reprisal (Tidals & Anchors MC 2)

“Hey,” I said, groggily rubbing my eyes.

“Hey,” she replied with a smile.

I liked Tumbler. She seemed like a sweet enough gal, and it was weird to me that she had gotten mixed up with a motorcycle club. But we all have our stories and reasons why we joined one, so I decided not to judge her. I did however, have a serious question for her.

“Any chance I can go home and take a shower?”

“No can do,” she replied with a sad shake of her head. “Alaska says you have to stay put. If you want though, we can go outside and I can hose you down.”

“That would be kind of pointless without soap of some kind,” I said with a laugh. “It’s okay. I’ll wait til the Queen or Mistress, or whatever the hell she calls herself gets back, and try to talk her into realizing that I’m a big boy and can take care of myself.”

Tumbler laughed and went back to her newspaper. I wondered how long I had been asleep this time, but I wasn’t sure I cared. Pretty soon, I’d be as close to one hundred percent as I could hope to be and then it would be go time.

“You guys may think of getting a new couch in here though,” I said peeling myself off of it and sitting up. “I think I’ve sweat and bled through it enough times to warrant a blowtorch cleaning.”

“Trust me; that couch has seen way worse than blood and sweat,” Tumbler said, shivering. I raised an eyebrow but didn’t push the subject. I suddenly had visions of strippers screwing old businessman all over the couch, leaving bodily fluids all over the fucking thing, and I decided that I would be sleeping on the floor from then on.

“Thanks for the warning,” I said, pushing myself to my feet. I stretched my arms over my head, then to the left, and right and chuckled as I dropped them to my side. I saw the glances she kept stealing at me, but I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t see or touch her in that way; she seemed too innocent, and it wasn’t my job to corrupt the innocent.

I walked over to the blinds behind Alaska’s desk and peeked out into stripper world. Damn that’s some good timing, I thought when I saw her entering through a side door.

“Mind if I get the chair?” I asked, Tumbler after I let the blinds go. “I kinda don’t want to sit on that couch anymore, and if I lay down on the floor, I’ll probably fall asleep again.”

She nodded, grabbed her magazine, and went over to the couch. I watched as she precariously perched herself on the arm of it instead of sitting on the cushions. I’m probably gonna have to scrub at least three layers of skin off.

“Think she’ll be mad?” I asked.

“Alaska? About what?” Tumbler asked, glancing up at me.

“That I’m in her majesty’s chair,” I replied with a mischievous grin.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anyone in but her so I’m kind of curious myself,” she remarked with a laugh.

I heard the unmistakable sound of Alaska’s heeled boots as she came up the hallway in back. I ran my hands back through my hair, rolled my shoulders back a few times, and leaned back in her chair. I propped my legs up on the top of her desk like I had seen her do so many times and waited for the door to open. Tumbler giggled from where she was sitting on the couch and I winked at her.

The look on Alaska’s face when she came through would be priceless.

Ten

Alaska

The look on his face is going to be priceless when I bring Dallas in, I thought nervously as I pushed the door open to my office.

“What the fuck are you doing in my chair?” I asked, as soon as I walked in.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Swing asked at the exact same time.

The look on his face had gone from smug to angry in point five seconds and mine had gone from nervous to pissed off in about the same amount of time.

“Get the fuck out of my chair!” I yelled walking over to him.

“Get the fuck out of here!” he yelled at the same time, getting up and starting toward Dallas.

“Everybody stop yelling!” Tumbler shouted, hopping up on the couch. “You sit down over there,” she said to me pointing at my chair. “And you sit over there,” she said to Swing pointing to the desk.

We both grunted but went to our spots. I sat down, but not Swing. He paced in front of the desk like a caged animal waiting for the right chance to go after Dallas.

“We’re all going to speak in turn, or I’m going to start shooting people,” Tumbler said, taking her gun out and setting on the couch next to her. “Alaska, you first. Who is that and why is he here?”