MICHELLE
“What…was…that?” The air had been completely knocked out of me when he threw me up against that wall. My mouth is dry, and my body is wet with sweat, but I feel completely and totally electric.
He pushes into me one last time, making sure to get the final feel of my body before slowly pulling out. With a small gasp, he replies, “You tell me, girl. I ain’t had it that good in years. Must’ve been the gunshots and shit.”
He rolls off of me and reaches towards where his jeans are still lying on the floor. He tosses me my bra and panties as I quickly pull them over my legs. I could lay here all night on this floor with his body beside me, but there are things at work that I can’t forget. Those gunshots weren’t just for play.
But I’m not exactly ready for reality. I giggle slightly as I ask, “So, let me get this straight. Your house gets shot at, and you have wild animalistic sex? Sounds like a hell of a sex life.”
“You know it. That’s how I roll.” He pulls the shirt over his thick abs and arms and then tucks it in around the front. Purposefully sloppy – now that’s something I just don’t understand.
I brace myself. I’m going in, “You do this with all your motorcycle girls?”
He looks at me, his head cocked to the side as he thinks of how to proceed, “I get around, if that’s what you’re asking. It’s part of the job description.” He must sense me coiling away from that, because he quickly adds, “But it’s like I said, I ain’t had that good of a fuck in a goddamn long-ass time…”
Cal sits back down next to me and places his head on my shoulder. Another arm wraps around my waist and then under my panties. I feel the rough tip of his index finger find my wet and worn slit as he massages around it. His hot, sweet breath against my neck makes every bit of me tingle in anticipation.
I can sense he’s about to say something else when I watch his head dart up. Like a dog on alert, he’s heard or spotted something. And his reflexes are back at it again. Before I can figure out what is going on, he’s on his feet and at the door.
My heart begins to race as I run to my feet and grab the dress on the floor. I've got just enough time to pull it over me and zip up the back about half way when I hear it – the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
He turns and whispers to me urgently as he grabs the lights, “Shit! Don’t say a fucking word. Just let me talk. Okay?”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat that has been there since I walked in the door nearly two hours ago. I tense up and flinch as I hear the pounding of fists on the door. Someone is shouting Cal’s name, but it’s muffled over the sound from downstairs. Cal walks over and places an ear to the door. After a second, and without hesitation, he flings it open. A bald man with face tattoos is staring back at him, his eyes burning with anger and excitement. When he sees me, he bristles, his back arching and his eyes leering at me.
Without looking away, he demands, “What the fuck are you doing up here, Cal? Jager’s been looking for you.” His voice is grisly and suspicious. Something about him tells me that he’s not Cal’s best friend in this club.
“I’m coming down, Ryan. I just had to make sure Maddie was okay. Give me a second.”
The man doesn’t. Instead, he walks inside, stepping over Cal’s leg. He comes closer to me, examining me. I know I should look away, like how they warn you to never stare a rabid dog in the eye, but I’m not one to back down either. And if I’ve learned anything from dealing with Cal, it’s that it’s better to stand my ground than run and hide.
After a long, agonizing second, Ryan turns back to Cal, his arms outstretched towards me, “Who’s the bitch? And what’s she doing here?”
“She’s Maddie’s teacher. She came over for a teacher conference. I was asking her to stay here with Maddie since the girls seemed occupied downstairs.” Cal walks fully into the room, his back towards the door. It’s defensive, as if he needs to be closer to me in case Ryan attacks.
“Put her in Maddie’s room and get the fuck downstairs.” He takes a few steps towards the door before Cal grabs him with his long arms. He swings him into the wall and pushes him up so the two are locked together. I let out a frightened yelp, unsure what I was supposed to do. Cal looks ready to kill him.
He barks into Ryan’s face, “Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do? You may be the second enforcer in command, but I’m still the Vice. And you don’t fucking mess with me or my company. Do you fucking understand me, Ryan?” When Ryan doesn’t answer Cal, I watch in horror as Cal pulls out a small switchblade and holds it to his jacket. “I've got all the power to cut this fucking badge off right now. You better damn well answer me when I ask you a question.”
Ryan stiffens and swallows, his eyes lowering to the ground. His voice is tense and measured as he replies solemnly, “Yes, sir. I understand.”
Cal drops him to the ground, the man stumbling to catch his fall. He heads out the door as Cal yells back to him, “You better not fucking forget it, Ryan!”
I realize I’ve walked backwards towards the wall myself. My hands are gripping for something to support as I try to piece this all together. Here was this guy, a great father by all means, but he’s dangerous. So dangerous people shoot at him and his own friends get a knife to their body if they don’t obey. What have I gotten myself into?
Cal looks at me amused. I’m sure he’s used to girls who are accustomed to this type of life and can handle a little Friday night shootout at the clubhouse, but I’m not that kind of girl at all. I don’t want to be that girl.
I whisper meekly, “I would like to go home now, Cal.”
“I told you, Michelle. You can’t go home. They’ll be looking for you there.”
He’s explained this before, but I’m still not satisfied. I’m not safe wherever I go. I can’t stay here. I can’t go home. What the hell am I supposed to do to actually be safe? I slip slowly to the ground, finding the cold floors with the palms of my hands.
“Listen, just stay here with Maddie until this meeting gets over with and then we’ll talk. We’ll figure out someplace for you to go. Can you just do that?”
I nod slowly. What other choice do I have? I have certain death on one side and uncertain, but mostly probable death on the other. I can’t imagine what Maddie went through living like this, in a place where she knew how to duck and cover from gunshots or where she spent her time walking over beer cans and syringes. She doesn’t get the option. I’m lucky. And it is my duty to stay here in this house for her, to make sure she was truly safe.
Cal outstretches his hand, and I take it. He zips up the rest of my dress and hands me my shoes and purse. Like an adult with a child, he smooths out my ponytail, making me presentable for his daughter and public consumption. I’m the teacher again – the demure, sweet little teacher who doesn’t belong in a place like this.
As we walk towards Maddie’s room, I look down the banister to see the men filing in. They’re carrying guns and bats. Each is stopping to check out the damage to the walls and the windows. Maddie’s notebook, the one her father gave to me to look through earlier, is being trampled on by huge boots and some heels.
Cal opens Maddie’s door where she's sitting on the floor still, her drawing pad on her lap. She looks up at me with wide, grinning eyes. It’s like the shooting didn’t happen. She’s already over it. My heart weeps for her some more. Without instruction or prompting, I sit down next to her and pull out some color pencils from her box of art supplies. She rips me a piece of blank paper as I start to draw.
Her father looks over us – his two girls. He kneels down and pats Maddie’s head affectionately. “Miss Springer is gonna sit with you for a while. Jager’s downstairs so we’re gonna have a meeting. You’re cool, right?”
Maddie nods without even looking up. But her shaking hand tells me Cal isn’t seeing the whole picture. Maddie’s not the tough, take it all kind of girl he wants her to be. She’s breaking right here. Suddenly, I’m glad I’m here, locked up like a child with this girl.
“Good girl. Stay here until I come get you. You hear anything, you duck and get under the bed. Don’t answer the door to anyone.” Cal stands, taking one last glance at us before shutting the door.
Maddie returns to her drawings, her eyes fixed on her page. But I can’t bring myself to draw anything. My mind is completely overwhelmed with the idea that this little girl knows to hide under the bed and lock her bedroom door to strangers. What else has Maddie seen? What has her father put her through?