The Cut

By: Carol Lynne

Kings of Bedlam MC Series, Book One


Santana Rogers ducked to avoid the water balloon and laughed. “You’ll have to do better than that, Tiny!” She dashed behind the Kings of Bedlam Motorcycle Club garage and waited for another attack. Club picnics were the best. With tons of food, all the soda they could drink and little adult supervision, it was heaven for a girl of fourteen. Unlike most kids her age, the constant sound of gunfire in the background was comforting because it meant the men of the club were still busy proving who the best shot was. The competition was a staple of any club gathering and usually happened before the men had too much to drink. Unfortunately, her father had been banned from the contest several years earlier when he’d gotten drunk and had taken a shot at one of the prospects.

“Santana!” her friend, Jaycee, called.

Santana narrowed her eyes and kept her mouth shut. It was just like Tiny to recruit Jaycee to draw her out of hiding. She looked around for somewhere else to hide. Shit. With only one option available, she slowly opened the back door of the garage and snuck inside. If her dad, Smash, caught her in the bike shop, he’d no doubt blister her ass, but Smash was busy drinking and playing horseshoes with his best friend Stake.

She dug a rumpled pack of cigarettes out of her pocket as Jaycee continued to call for her outside. Smoking wasn’t something she’d ever tried, but her mom, Ellie, had lost the pack during one of her drunken stupors three nights earlier, and Santana had snatched them up.

“It’s just me,” Jaycee said through the door. “Let me in.”

Santana quickly beckoned her best friend inside. “Where’s Tiny?”

Jaycee laughed. “He went to get more balloons.” Her eyes rounded when she spotted the cigarette in Santana’s hand. “Are you smoking?”

Santana shrugged. “I thought I’d try it.”

Jaycee wrinkled her nose. “Gross. No one’s gonna want to kiss you with ashtray breath.”

Stake was the only man Santana wanted a kiss from, but he still saw her as a child. She’d worn her shortest pair of denim cut-offs and a skimpy halter top, which showed off her tits to perfection, and he still hadn’t looked at her like a real woman. “I think I have a few years before I need to worry about being kissed.”

Jaycee snorted. “Then you’re blind because I’ve caught Tiny and Gill staring at your boobs today. You could have either one of them with a snap of your fingers.”

Santana pulled out a book of matches and lit the cigarette. She coughed several times after her first inhale and shook her head. “Must take some getting used to.” She took a deep breath in an attempt to clear her lungs of the burning smoke before addressing Jaycee’s comment. “I don’t want Tiny or Gill, and you know that. Besides, I know you like Tiny, and I’d never do that to a friend.”

Jaycee got all dreamy-eyed. “I do like him. I keep telling myself he’s out of my league, but he’s so sexy.”

Santana concentrated on the cigarette burning in her hand. She refused to point out that Tiny was the only fifteen-year-old she’d ever seen who already sported a beard. She cringed. She hated beards, especially on a guy only a year older. It was wrong on so many levels, but then Tiny’s dad’s beard reached almost to his belt buckle. Gross. It looked like long pubic hair attached to his face. “You know I love Tiny, but you need to be careful. That boy’s aching to get into someone’s pants.”

A loud click signaled trouble. “Let’s get outta here,” Santana said as the big garage door at the front of the building started to go up. She dropped her cigarette and smashed it under her flip flop, hoping she hadn’t melted the cheap rubber.

With Jaycee right behind her, Santana ran around the back of the garage to the side. She’d just turned the corner when a big, red water-filled balloon hit her in the chest, drenching her. “Dammit, Tiny!”

Laughing, Tiny got cocky and tossed another balloon up and down in his hand. “I have one more.” Before he had a chance to throw it, Gill ran up from behind and nailed Tiny on the back of the head with a yellow balloon.

“Sonofabitch!” Tiny whirled around and threw his remaining weapon at Gill, missing him by a mile.

Gill was Santana’s height, which meant he was at least six inches shorter than Tiny. He danced around the yard like a boxer, readying for a fight.

“Really?” Santana sighed. Tiny and Gill were best friends, but lately, whenever they got around girls, there was some weird competition thing going on with them. She chalked it up to raging hormones. Although, it didn’t appear to her that Gill had gone through puberty, yet.

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