Page 4 of Broken Cracks
Attempting to take her hand in mine the first time at the border left me with fresh air, so I didn’t try again. The punch I felt in my guts was hers. I was connected to her psychically and her stomach was a real balled-up mess. I wanted to ease the knots and let her know I wasn’t about to hurt her, and the quicker I could execute those sentiments, the better for all of us.
The crew didn’t slash through to the border, so I’m sure they’re all in the clubhouse talking about the cops and wanting to know how Sledge and I ended up. Classic rock music floats out of the clubhouse, and I’m thankful it’s the easy rock variety, nice and chill and not too scary.
From time to time, the whores of the club liked to play their drumline and bass shit and it drives me nuts. My name is Psych, but I didn’t like all the loud, fucked-up noises unless I was about to go on the hunt to flip into that mode and kill.
I rubbed a hand over my bald head as Sledge stalked ahead of me. I know he didn’t get it either. He had no idea why I would buy a Mexican minor, but my Dark Angel crew would have to trust me. I was the one to understand everybody else, so all they had to do was cut me some slack. I take off my black leather gloves and beckon for the dark-haired beauty to walk beside me.
In the light I could see her better, and I take off my jacket, slipping it over her dainty angular shoulders. I can see her petite body trembling with cold. She has a few silver and gold rings on her fingers, and my head dips for a closer look at her slender piano-playing. Her hair flows down to her ass and is a lustrous shade of chocolate brown. Her eyes are innocent, but filled with flecks of gold and caramel brown, outlined by thick curved eyebrows, and her cute tiny dreamboat pink lips are everything.
I could see why that fucked-up soldier was salivating over her and looking at her lack of defenses. I am so happy I ‘bought’ her.
As we walk in, all eyes are fixated on us. Not one pair of eyes is looking unbothered. Skimming my eyes over the room isn’t necessary; I can feel the accusatory vibration of the room and everyone wanting an explanation for the young woman I have with me.
Snatch is on my left and seated on one of the couches with his arm draped lazily around a lady. He has a drink in his hand, and I just know the cocksucker is gonna say something. I shoot him a warning glance, but he doesn’t catch it in time.
"Daayyuumm, Psychoooo! I thought we were making a run, nobody told me we're hopping over the border for a quick snatch. And sweet mercy, what a snatch ya got there!"
He shakes out his hand as I tug at the girl's pocket, slinging her closer to me. She is jolted by what I’ve done but I want her as far away from Snatch as possible. I can feel the tripwire that exists in my brain starting to fire and my synapses flickering. If there is another one or two of them that connect, I’m gonna lose it.
I flex out my fingers and count to ten and back before I respond as the others look on in silence. I can feel her fear; it’s radiating out of her pores and there’s still the issue of the knots in her stomach. I want to rub my hand there, but I won’t dare. She will freak completely, but I hate that she feels so scared. This dummy Snatch has no compassion and I want to thump him over the head hard a few times. The club whore beside him bounces her thick leg as she smacks her gum with a snicker. Her too. I look away, rewiring myself to speak.
“Stop your shit, Snatch! Put a gag in it and put those eyes back in their sockets before I rip them out!" I yell out, and I mean for it to come out smooth and balanced, but everyone in the club knows they call me Psych for a reason. Snatch’s cocky alcohol fueled brashness sinks as he slinks back down into the couch and shuts up. Good. I don’t want any more bullshit from anyone, and I hope that’s enough to set the tone.
I do the best I can, knowing that the attractive girl doesn’t speak English, and raise a glass to my lips as I walk her slowly over to the bar with Slash’s eyes on me.
Ah, shit. Bull is coming. Fuck.
She nods bravely as the long locks of cascading hair captivate me. She’s not like the Serenity girls, that's for sure. I must draw my eyes back into my skull and relax so I don’t give off predator vibes, but she’s not hard to look at. I’m relieved I can communicate with her on a basic level.
One of the prospects is already pouring drinks behind the bar so I jump in. “Hey, can I have two room temperature waters, and add a beer for me too.”
“Sure, Psych,” he answers as he pulls a beer and I try to process how I’m going to tell this beauty that I mean her no harm. Bull interrupts me as he gestures with an open palm swing up to the ceiling. His version ofwhat the fuck!
Calmly, I answer him. “I’ll explain later, Bull.”
"Oh sure, go get your nut off first. I can wait," Bull says in a sarcastic tone, another idiotic comment with no idea of what’s going on.
They can at least ask me instead of passing judgment.I do like to bring women back to the clubhouse, and yeah, I do get my shit off, but not this time. Bull clenches his fist and walks back over to his beer and sits down next to Slash and another one of the prospects. I don’t get what’s eating at him lately, but if I had to take a guess, it has something to do with Slash taking the seat—not that I wanna take orders from either one of them if they don’t know what they’re doing. Slash has his moments, but he ain’t doing so bad.
I check around to see if anybody else is going to give me grief, but I’m looking safe for a minute.
I remember that I have a little Spanish in the vocab as I hand her water. She takes it with a shaky hand, and I support the glass so it doesn’t slip and drop through her fingers. She slowly sips with her sweet little mouth. I had no idea how gorgeous she was in the moonlight. Even though she’s small, her curves are in the right places. Swallowing down my lust, I keep the context of the situation and I don’t have any freaking idea of how she’s been managed before this. I could feel her terror at the edge of the border, but this is different.
I sneak a glance at her dewy, moist skin and it’s as if she’s stepped out of a jungle. I raise my eyebrows in admiration. Mexico is known for jungles and villages, and I wonder what part she comes from. It’s a pity I’ve never been out of the country, because of my own personal circumstances of hell. I do know the Mexicans, especially since we roll with the Cardez cartel.
I rub my head back and forth like a genie; it’s something I’ve done for a long time to calm down the demons in my head and focus. I signal a finger to Fiona, who is sitting with Simone, and given the way those girls came to the club, I figure they’ll look out for her. Both glance at one another and come over to me.
“Hey Psych, what’s up?” Simone asks with confidence as she assesses Isabella but flashes a warm smile at her. She tucks her tendrils of hair behind her ear, looking up at Simone through her long feline lashes.
“Ah ladies, I need a favor from you both,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck and cringing, hoping the young thing is going to be able to get along with the girls.
“Sure, what is it?”
“Can you look after her for me?” I request, tilting my head sideways to her.
“Sure, we can do that,” Simone says, and Fiona bobs her head in agreement, putting me at ease. I don’t trust anyone else to take care of her. I don’t even know what to call her. I look calmly at her, working to set her at ease, but maybe I’m being too intense for her to handle.
"¿Cómo te llamas?"I’m asking her name and I hope I don’t sound like too much of a hopeless loser to her.