Lala
Rampage has my body folded over the kitchen island, my skirt shoved up over my ass, and his fingers are sliding my panties over to the side.
“Someone’s going to catch us,” I whisper.
“Shut up, Lala. I just need to feel you.”
Sliding into me with one, quick thrust, I can feel each metal stud against my wet flesh. The metal gliding in and out against my skin always makes me shudder, especially in this position.
“Fuck, babe. I love how you let me give it to you.”
He knows that I will never say no to him. If this is what he needs, then it’s all his. I don’t even care that it’s in a kitchen with people not more than ten feet away from the door.
****
In my life, six months is a long time to be in one place, especially spending that time with someone. Hell, I might even go as far as calling it a milestone. I had never lived anywhere longer than a few months, never had consistency. I’ve never had anyone in my life that I didn’t owe something to, and I never owned anything. Even the car that Rampage tried to fix was a stolen car that I paid cash for, and even then it was a piece of shit. Lil is the only person that I have worked to have a friendship with. Never having a real friend before, I needed that and I worked to keep it. It was through that friendship that I met Rampage.
It’s been a year. We’ve slipped into a solid year together. Rampage and Lala. We’ve had good, bad, and all that shit in between. The one constant we’ve had this past year is each other. I have Rampage and his club. I’d never had a family until I met him.
I have it all now. I have friends, a home, a job. I have a life, and I share that life with Rampage. I have him to thank for all of it. He lets me be me, and he supports whatever I want to do. Once I left my job, he made it possible for me to go to school fulltime, which helped me to graduate early. Rampage has given me everything, but he’s never given me his love.
It sounds so petty and ridiculous after everything he has done for me, but I’m still not sure where I fit into his life. I’m not sure what we are. I know that he wants me and only me, and I try to be happy with that, but sometimes I wonder what it would feel like hear him say that he loves me. I know he doesn’t look at what tomorrow brings, he just lives in the present, but it makes me feel like I’m a kept woman until he tires of me.
He never claims me in front of anyone, so I have no right to claim him. It’s humiliating to me, acting the part of his old lady, but knowing that he will never claim me as his.
I want him to fit me into his life. I want to stay in his life, whichever way he’ll have me. It scares me to think that at any moment, he could let me go. I’m not sure I could survive that. I can’t see life without him and that scares me.
I’m so selfish for feeling this way and I know it. He doesn’t have to do anything for me, but he does. He keeps me safe and takes damn good care of me. I’m thankful he’s with me. He’s here for me. I have Rampage and that’s all the matters to me… for now.
****
“I love this color, Cali. I’ve been tryin’ to get Gin to let me paint the bedroom pink for ages now, but he shuts that shit down real quick. Says he’s movin’ out if I paint it that color, but little does he know I’m gonna paint it whatever fuckin’ color I want.” Peaches laughs, waving her rolling paint brush around. Good thing I put plastic on Cali’s floor and furniture.
“Guess he’s movin’ in with us then?” Lil fires back.
Peaches just gives her a lazy shrug and says, “Probably, ‘cause you know I’m gonna paint it whatever color I want it.”
“I painted that wall in the kitchen that pretty green. It’s not a girly or manly color, so he might like that,” Cali suggests.
The girls start talking about painting their homes and all kinds of other things they want to do, and for the first time in my life, I can join in on the conversation. I have a home to paint and fix up too.
We’ve been at this painting for a while, so we decide to order pizza while Lil runs to the store for wine and beer. Peaches has some obnoxious rap song playing, YG, rapping about who loves him, while she raps right along with him.
“You fuckin’ suck.” Cali laughs at her.
“Bitch, who do you love?” Peaches sings to me.
“Yeah. Who do you love, Lailah?” Cali lifts a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me and levels me with that look.
“Do you think Rampage loves you?” Peaches asks out of nowhere in the middle of her rap.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. I really don’t know.
“He does,” Lil interjects with steel determination. She’s always so optimistic, glass half full kind of girl.
“Maybe.” I shrug. I’m not sure where we stand, but I’m not going to argue it either. There is no way in hell I’m rocking the boat.
In my life I’ve learned to take things at face value. I can see and feel that he cares for me, but love is a whole different matter. Rampage speaks his mind. He doesn’t hold things in and he lets his feelings be known. I would assume that if he loved me, he would have said it. “No maybe’s about it. He fucking loves you,” Lil says again.
“How do you know if I don’t even know?”
“I just do. I can tell.” I don’t believe her, but that’s okay. If he doesn’t love me, well then I have enough love for the both of us.
“If you say so, Lil.”
****
Sitting at the bar, Lil, Peaches, and I talk about Peaches wedding that may or may not be happening, depending on who you ask. She’s been planning this wedding for over 2 years now, apparently because Gin isn’t exactly giving her everything she wants. She’s been holding out and being stubborn ‘til he gives in, I can see why Gin has put up a fight on what he will or won’t do. She’s has gone overboard with her demands and everyone has lost all patience with her. Gin and the guys have been avoiding her like the plague for weeks now, leaving her crazy, bridezilla ass with us to deal with. I would find it alarming if it wasn’t so damn funny.
“You bitches still at it?” Tiny grumbles as he sits down next to me.
“Yep.” Lil smiles at him.
“How much this shit gonna cost the club, Sis?” Lil smirks, but doesn’t answer him. “Fuckin’ Christ, Lil. You girls are gonna bankrupt us.”
“That’s the plan,” She laughs.
“I found these amazing tuxedos,” Peaches says, pointing to a magazine.
“We’re gonna look like dumbasses,” Tags tells her.
“The fuck you are,” She counters. Tags pales and turns to Lil.
“I’m not wearin’ that shit, Sis.”
Lil smiles knowingly, “Oh, but you are.”
“Babe, we’re not wearin’ tuxes. Why the fuck are you two turnin’ this wedding into a goddamn circus?” Tank grumbles from the office.
“Shut the hell up. We’re gonna do whatever the hell we want to.”
“That’s what I’m fuckin’ worried about,” he grunts from the office.
Tank comes out of the office and stares Lil down. A year ago he scared me to no end, but now, I only find him slightly scary, and very bossy. Turning to me he eyes me up and down.
“Lala. Please save me and tell me that you’re not in on this shit too?”
“Yep. It’s official.”
“They’re conspiring against us, brother,” Gin grumbles, looking terrified. That too is true. Our plan is to take over the club and turn it into the “girls run this shit” club. We’re trying, but the guys aren’t havin’ it.
“Lil, shut this shit down before I do,” Tank warns her. She doesn’t even acknowledge him. She just thumbs through her magazine while Peaches starts marking pages in hers.
“Rampage, tell your woman to shut Lil’s shit down.”
Rampage just laughs and shakes his head, “Not happenin’. I like her pussy, motherfucker. I like it a fuck of a lot. Not taking chances of her cuttin’ my ass off.”
One year and they have made me part of their family. I’ve never felt more accepted or wanted. One year and I couldn’t imagine my life anywhere else. It’s an amazing feeling when you feel like you just fit somewhere.
The wedding issues have shifted to club business, so now it’s back to paperwork. It’s not nearly as fun, but it has to be done. Tank finally shut Lil’s shit down, but let’s be real. She’s still throwing that wedding the way Peaches wants it, whether Tank likes it or not. She pretty much does whatever the hell she wants to around here.
Sitting at the bar I look over some plans for the clubs armory and other businesses. Lil asked me to help take over some of the work here, so I help with the marketing and advertising for the clubs businesses. Along with the mechanical shop and the armory, Sargent bought a bar under the clubs name, so now there is even more paperwork. Lucky for everyone here, this is what I went to school for. I’m good at it and I love doing it.
My head is in a stack of papers when I feel those hateful, scathing eyes on me. Glancing up, I see Red staring daggers at me from the other side of the room by the kitchen. Her fire engine red hair is a frizzy fucking mess, and her blood red lipstick is smeared across her cheek. When she knows I’m watching her, she starts to smooth out her wrinkled skirt, giving me a knowing smirk. Not more than a second later, Rampage comes out of the kitchen, right next to where she’s standing. She’s such a hateful bitch.
Lil plops herself next to me on the stool, watching Red’s show.
“Fuck. She’s gross and desperate.” I couldn’t agree more.
“Yeah, she sure is.”
“Ya know, she kinda looks like a cracked out Ariel, you know? From The Little Mermaid?”
That she does. It’s kind of sad how she is constantly trying to get Rampage to fuck her, or trying to make it appear as if something is still going on between them. It’s been a whole fucking year and she won’t let it go. She’s sad and pathetic. Three kids from three different men, and the fathers have her kids. Not one of them are with her. She has no home, no money, no life. She lives in the club, in a different room each night with whoever will fuck her. Considering she’s constantly trying to ruin things between Rampage and I, I don’t feel bad for her at all.
“Ha! You’re so right, she does.”
Time moves on and our stacks of papers have grown. They’ve taken over half the bar top. Lil and I have been at it for a while, working our asses off. Red’s been behind the bar the entire time, giving me dirty looks every time I look up, pissed off that I didn’t fall for her little show. What sucks is that I’m thirsty and the bitch is tending bar.
“Can I get a pop, please?” I ask her as nicely as possible.
She glares at me, “Get it yourself,” she fires back.
“Bitch! Get her the fuckin’ drink,” Lil raises her voice next to me.
“No.” Red spits, putting her hands on her hips.
“No?” Lil repeats slowly. Red must really hate me. In the time I’ve been here, I’ve learned Lil is boss. Tank might be President, Gin might be Vice President, and Rampage might be a scary asshole, but Lil runs the show around here, and all the guys know it. Red knows this, she’s just asking for trouble. I think she’s finally at her breaking point with me and just doesn’t give a shit anymore.
“No, she ain’t a fuckin’ old lady, so I ain’t gotta do shit for her.”
It stings a little when she says it because it’s true. I’m not Rampage’s old lady. Technically, in the eyes of the club, I’m nothing really, just a friendly face and Rampage’s fuck buddy. I’m treated like family, but if they want to get rid of me they can. I have no patch. I have no claim. In the end I have no say.
“The fuck she isn’t,” Lil growls at her.
“Rampage ain’t claimed her ass. Hell, we all know he’s just fucking her. She’s not his old lady. She not even his girlfriend, or his woman. She’s just a piece of ass and everyone here knows it, but no one talks about it ‘cause she’s your friend.”
And she is absolutely right. Rampage and I are just shacking up so he can have a convenient fuck. As much as it hurts to say it, it’s the truth.
“Shut up, you stupid fucking cunt. You don’t know shit. He damn well loves her, you jealous bit, so now, get her whatever the fuck she wants,” Lil growls at her.
Rampages big hand lands on my lower back when lumbers up next to me, looking between the three of us. He obviously heard the commotion. Lil looks murderous, Red looks smug, and I’m sure I just look fucking stupid.
“Do you love her Rampage? You haven’t claimed her as your old lady, am I right?” Red whines right at him, all sad, puppy dog eyes. Rampages body tenses beside mine and he doesn’t answer her.
“Bitch, you know your place, just do what Lil fuckin’ tells ya to.” He barks at her. She flinches, but still glares at him and I. He doesn’t clear anything up though, just puts her in her place.
“Fuck that. She’s not your old lady. I’m not doin’ shit for her.” Red fires back. Turning slowly toward Red, those mean, dark eyes narrow at her. He looks menacing and mad as fuck.
“She might not be, but bitch, you do what you’re fuckin’ told to do or you can kick fuckin’ rocks. Ya feel me?” And all I hear is him confirming that I’m not his old lady. That shit fucking stings and breaks my heart.
“You used to treat me good ‘til that bitch showed up,” Red cries, waving a hand at me. “She’s never been one of us and you know we could have had something if this little twat didn’t show up. I know you had feelings for me, you loved me, I know you did. You just never got the chance to see it because she showed up.” Mascara streaks down her cheeks and her chest heaves as she works herself up. She thought he could love her? Was there more to them than I thought? Does he love me, or does he love her?
“Bitch I don’t fuckin’ love anyone,” He yells at her. That’s it for me. I know my place as I sit here, feeling my heart shatter into a million pieces. His words knock the breath and hope out of me. They fucking hurt to hear, they hurt more than I thought they would. He doesn’t love anyone, not even me. A little piece of me dies with that confession, and I don’t think I will ever feel the same.