It also made me want to kiss him.
And last, it made me want to snap at him because, really, couldn’t he just let it go?
I decided speaking was not going well for me so I stopped doing it.
Hop again held my gaze.
Then he looked to the floor while straightening to tower over me, and he did this muttering, “I don’t get this from her. Complicated.”
He didn’t get this from me and I didn’t get it from him, either.
Had I mentioned my life stunk?
I held my breath and tipped my head back to look at him. He continued to stare down at me before he shook his head a couple of times, and I watched as he moved to the mess of my clothes he’d thrown on the floor a few hours earlier after he’d peeled them off me. He kicked some aside with his black motorcycle boot, unearthing his wallet. He bent, nabbed it, shoved it in his back pocket and came back to me.
His hand again wrapped around the back of my neck and then his face was in mine.
“Sleep, lady,” he ordered, sounding disgruntled, but still it came out gentle.
It sounded nice, even the disgruntled part.
Damn.
“Okay,” I replied but didn’t move.
Hop stood there, hand at my neck, and he didn’t move either.
Then he prompted, “Like, now, Lanie.”
I stared at him a second, nodded, my teeth coming out to graze my bottom lip, something his eyes dropped to watch, that something making me want to kiss him again but I didn’t.
I broke from his hold, stretched out and he flipped the covers over me.
Then, God, God, I used everything I had left not to process him tucking them tight all around me.
So sweet.
Too sweet.
Damn.
He bent low, kissed the side of my head and said against my hair, “See you tomorrow night, babe.”
Tomorrow night. Thank God.
I tried not to process that I thought that and mumbled, “Okay, Hop.”
I got another kiss and my eyes watched him move to the light. He turned it off, plunging the room into darkness.
I didn’t watch, didn’t hear his boots on the carpet, but I still felt him leave.
I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath.
I opened my eyes as I let the breath go.
“Complicated,” my lips mouthed without sound.
After a few more seconds, I heard a Harley roar.
I listened and I did it hard until I could hear the roar no more.
Only then did I close my eyes.
But I did not sleep.
* * *
Hop
“Repeat it,” Dog clipped, and Hop watched as the junkie Dog had pinned against the brick wall with his hand in his chest and the barrel of Dog’s gun to the flesh under his chin, swallowed.
Then the junkie stammered, “I… I won’t… won’t ever make a buy on… on Chaos again.”
“Right now, I’m a little put out,” Dog informed the junkie, shoving the gun deeper into his flesh, making him squeak in terror. “I see you on Chaos doin’ anything but helpin’ an old lady cross the street, I’ll be unhappy. Heads up, you don’t want to make me unhappy.”
The junkie, eyes enormous, gulped and nodded.
Dog let him go, saying, “Outta my sight.”
The junkie took off.
Hop looked to the dealer he had shoved face-first to the wall with his forearm against the man’s shoulders. Hop had disarmed him and currently had the dealer’s as well as his own firearm shoved in the back waistband of his jeans under his cut.
Hop’s turn.
“Empty your pockets,” Hop growled.
“Fuck, man,” the dealer whined, and Hop pressed him deeper into the wall, making his face scrape against the rough brick.
“Empty your goddamned pockets,” Hop bit out.
With difficulty, the dealer put his hands in his pockets, pulling out small packets of ice and dropping them to the ground. As he did this, Dog moved them aside with the toe of his boot, then he brought the heel down, crushing the methamphetamine into dust as the dealer whimpered.
After this, Dog moved to their bikes and Hop moved closer to the dealer.
“You know, five miles,” he reminded the dealer. “Five miles around Ride is Chaos. You don’t sell here. What the f**k?”
“Benito’s claimin’ this block,” the dealer told him.
“Benito doesn’t get to claim this block. He knows it, you know it. So again, what the f**k?” Hop asked.
“I go where Benito says,” the dealer replied.
Dog was back with a bottle of water, pouring it over the meth dust on the sidewalk and the dealer groaned.
Hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars washed away.
Benito would be pissed and not just at the dealer.
Hop didn’t care.
“You stay off this block. You do not come back. Benito sends you back, you find a way to explain to him; you’re here, his product is in the sewer. You got this one warning. Chaos doesn’t have patience with this shit. You see me, you’re f**ked, and I don’t mean you goin’ back empty-handed to that dickhead. I mean, you’ll find it difficult to go anywhere ’cause you’ll find it difficult to move. You get me?” Hop asked.
“I don’t go where Benito sends me, I’ll find it difficult to do anything seein’ as I won’t be breathin’,” the dealer returned.
“Not my problem. You picked the wrong profession, motherfucker,” Hop pointed out, pushing him farther into the wall, his arm sliding up to the back of the dealer’s neck, extending it unnaturally. “I gotta teach you this lesson now?” Hop asked.
The dealer, hoping for mercy, decided to get generous and shared, “Benito wants Chaos territory.”
“No shit?” Hop shot back.
“No, I mean he really wants it,” the dealer clarified.
Dog entered the conversation. “I think we get that, dealin’ with motherfuckers like you.”
“He’s kinda determined,” the dealer went on.
“Again, man, you think we’re not in on this f**kin’ information?” Hop asked, shoving him hard against the wall before he twisted him around and then slammed him back into the wall with a hand wrapped around his neck. “What Benito has got to get is that Chaos is more determined. You feel helpful, you share that with him and try to be convincing. But don’t matter if you are. We’re happy to put in the work to convince him. What you gotta take with you when we let you walk away right now is, he sends you out of the trenches, we see your head pop up, we’re aimin’ at you. We gotta get our message across to him, we’ll use any means necessary and that means takin’ out every soldier he sends our way until we drive it back to him.”