Widow Maker
I woke to hushed voices keeping my eyes closed, the voices got closer, and I knew it was Hawk and Boogie, I hear a swooshing noise, knowing that they just put shaving cream or whipped cream on my hand. I feel something touch my nose, and I lift my hand like I'm going to swipe it away, but I sit up smacking Hawk right in the face Boogie laughing. “Told ya it wouldn't work fuckhead,” he says, slapping Hawk on the back of the head, but Hawk grabs me rubbing the cream all over me, and I smell the cologne in the cream, so I know it's shaving cream.
“You, asshole” I yell, but he keeps rubbing my face and neck with his head, I laugh trying to push him off of me. When were both covered in cream he sits down next to me as Boogie goes back into the clubhouse laughing at the both of us
“What ya doin’ out here?”
“Was hanging with the Old Ladies” I tell him
“Where are they all?” he asks looking around.
“Went to bed, they have to get up early to cook you, assholes breakfast,” he grabs me, putting me in a headlock, and I push him away again.
“Fuck off dickhead!... you're messing my hair up,” he lets me go, laughing.
“Come on, let’s drink more,” he says, holding out his hand.
“No man I'm tired.”
“Fuck no! I'm still sort of sober and you're still ugly, when you're sexy as fuck then we can stop” I punch him in the arm, and he stands up “Come on” he pulls me up, and we walk back into the main room. People are still partying, and I see Summer sitting on one of the guys from Arizona's lap looking around to see where Scythe is. He's still over by the pool tables playing Knuckle, and the second I look, I see him staring at me. Hawk puts his arms over my shoulders, dragging me to the bar.
“Come on ugly,” he says, as we head to the nearest stools.
“Give this Brother a shot,” he tells the Prospect, and I smile (a Brother, god that sounds weird but good). We have a couple of shots and Hawk looks at me again, he looks at me with one eye than the other going back and forth between the two.
“Are you having a stroke?” I ask him
“No, but you’re startin’ to look good.”
“Fuckhead,” I say smiling at him, but he just laughs.
“Come on let me beat you in pool.”
“Pass,” I tell him
“Come on.”
“No, I'm not in the mood, I might just go to bed.”
“Is it because of Scythe.”
“Why the fuck would you say that?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know,” he shrugs his shoulder, I shake my head at him, but look over at the pool tables, and Scythe is staring at me still with that pissed off look “That prick insulted me in front of everyone,” I say feeling pissed off.
“I know.”
“Then what the fuck are you defending him for?”
“We set him straight,” he says, and I look at him again.
“Who set him straight.”
“All of us.”
“All of you” I repeat, and he nods, I ball my fist, “I can take care of myself, Hawk.”
“I know.”
“Do you.”
“Yes”
“You know what, fuck this!” I reach over the bar grabbing a bottle of tequila and walking towards the stairs.
“Widow!” he yells after me, but I give him the finger.
“Fuck off Hawk” I yell at him.
I slam the room door, taking my Cut off and hang it on the hook; I lay on the bed bottle in hand. I toe my boots off and shimmy out of my jeans, popping the lid off with my teeth and taking a big swig, the burn making me wince. “Fucking Hawk,” I say to the empty room, there's a knock at the door, and I see a shadow standing there “Fuck off!” I yell out
“Widow” Scythe says, and I roll my eyes taking another huge swig (defiantly not in the mood to talk to that asshole)
“I said fuck off!” I can see that he's still standing there.
“Widow open the door” I take another drink, ignoring him, he knocks on the door again.
“Scythe if you don't step away from my door, I'm gonna put a bullet through the fucking thing” he bangs harder.
“Open the fuckin’ door!” I jump up swinging the door open, and he looks down at the tiny black lace g-string I have on that hides nothing
“I said fuck off!” I watch as he swallows looking down at my legs “hello earth to Scythe,” I say waving my hand in front of him.
“Fuck Widow” I step back and go to close the door, I'm so not into this right now. He grabs the door, stopping me from closing it and pushes it open making me step back more.
“Scythe get the fuck out, I'm not in the mood for your shit,” I tell him.
He stands there not saying anything, so I go over and sit on the bed swigging the tequila again.
“Look, Widow, I'm sorry ok I jumped to conclusions, and I'm sorry,” I take another drink just looking at him (If I keep drinking I'll pass out before I do something stupid) “Widow.”
“Fine you can leave now,” I tell him, as he narrows his eyes at me.
“Is that it, you’re not going to say anything else” I shake my head.
“Nope” I take another drink.
“I said I was sorry,” I nod.
“I heard you,” he stands there looking at me, and I keep my expression emotionless.
“Your real cold you know that”
“So, I've been told.”
He turns to leave, and everything in me wants me to jump up and stop him, but my stubbornness won't let me. I slam the door shut, laying back, as a tear sliding down my cheek (emotions make you weak, emotions make you weak) I repeat over and over.