Ace Of Spades (Complete Raw First Draft, Unedited)

One: Ace Of Spades

Right now, she was wearing a tortured expression, leaning her head against her fist, tracing the condensation collecting on her glass. She wasn't alone.

Tank was there, across from her, obviously finishing his week of driving trucks all around the country. Everyone called him Tank, because he was built like a fucking tank. If scientists needed to find evolution's missing link between man and ape, he'd be a good place to start. He was more neanderthal than human, and the ladies seemed to love it.

All except for Bonnie, but then, since she was one half of the very dynamic duo, any guy would have a hard time trying to win her over.

Tank, the fucking idiot, was all over her, trying to hook in. To anyone who didn't know her, Bonnie wouldn't have looked irritated, but I noted the disinterested, half lidded expression in her eyes, contradicted by the hard set of her jaw.

That woman could turn vicious. She was like a chihuahua, small, but jesus. I'd seen it before, when some poor girl had been hitting on her man, and that was the expression she wore when she tried to strangle her with her platinum blonde hair extensions. Turned out that the other girl didn't even have extensions in, but she would have needed them after Bonnie was finished with her.

Tank draped his arm around her, trying to get his hand down her shirt, then frowned. I dropped down onto the empty stool across from them as Tank raised an eyebrow.

"What's that, in there?" He asked her, once again trying to get his hand down.

"It's my knife," she answered. "Wanna see?"

If Bonnie pulled her knife on him, I knew shit would go down, especially if Clyde came back and saw it, so I decided to have mercy on the poor guy, because I knew that she wouldn't.

"Tank," I called over, and he glanced across to me, looking annoyed. "She belongs to Bastard."

Tank quickly recoiled, putting as much distance as he could between Bonnie and himself as his hulking mass would allow him.

"Might have said something, darling," he muttered to Bonnie, who fixed him with one of her poisonous glares.

"I did," she said coldly, holding up her left hand to show him the ring on her fourth finger. "You chose to ignore it."

I slipped across to the stool that Tank had just vacated, grinning at Bonnie.

"You don't have to drop Clyde's name every time you see another guy talking to me," she told me, taking a casual swig of the beer she was holding. "I can handle myself."

Just like Clyde, she was an unofficial member of the club, and like the rest of the Reapers' women, she knew how to back herself. It wasn't her I was worried about, when I warned the others away; it was them .

"That's why I do it," I explained. "It's kinder to the guys, if I do."

Clyde was hands down the craziest mother fucker I'd ever come across, renowned for his short fuse and extravagant ways of dealing with shit. Where ever he went, trouble wasn't far behind. Everyone in the bar knew it, and avoided getting on his bad side, especially by messing with his woman.

Bonnie, she was slightly more placid, really patient, especially with him, but that's why she was even more dangerous than he was. She was unpredictable, and could explode at any time.

I would always warn anyone away from her by telling them that she was with him, not just because they were two of my closest mates, but because no one ever seemed to listen to Bonnie when she said she wasn't interested, and, as I said, it was kinder than letting her finish them herself.