Now I’m sure you’re sitting there thinking that this whole lockdown experience is supposed to be exciting, or it should keep my mind from wandering and over-thinking, like all us women do. But it’s not. For the most part, a lockdown is just a bunch of people sitting around until we are allowed to leave. The men, I know have a bit more to deal with. However, this ain’t like the dramatic crap they show on SOA. No bombs, no drive-by shootouts. It’s real life here, which means countless mundane hours of nothingness. Luckily, I did hit the jackpot one day over the past weekend, when my brother Brew texted, saying that they were expected home Thursday or Friday this week at the latest, in just enough time to celebrate Big’s 50th birthday with a massive, get-drunk-and-fuck fest. Yee Haw! Sounds exciting, doesn’t it? No…not really.

  “Well, do you want to at least have me bring you some food back?” Pixie sweetly asks.

  I shake my head. “No, hun, but thanks. I’ll just scrounge up something here.”

  Pixie’s voice recedes into sadness. “Should you change your mind, you know where we’ll be.”

  “Thanks,” I genuinely express once again, feeling guilty for not going. She departs my bedroom, shutting the door on her way out and leaving me to my own form of self-wallowing, wearing the same PJ’s I’ve had on for two days straight. Maybe I should get up and take a shower. God knows I need one.

  Rolling out of bed, I hit the bathroom to clean up. My wounds from last week’s fiasco have scabbed over into rigid ugliness that will definitely scar, which means the pain and aching I was once feeling has now been replaced with this constant need to scratch my skin clean off. I’ve tried not to pick. But hours of boredom, mixed with begrudging emotions, kind of makes you antsy and your hands start to do things you don’t realize until you’ve broken skin open and blood is smeared over your forearm.

  Using the Ivory body wash foaming on a rag, I cleanse myself whilst drifting off into another one of my childhood memories. They’ve been coming to light more often than not since Friday when I’d heard that Big and Gunz had finally executed their highly anticipated brawl. Nothing like another fight to trudge up the past…

  It was a hot July day, when I was fourteen.

  Standing in the heavily air-conditioned hall outside of the common room. I nosily cracked the door open just a smidgen to see the argument between Big and my daddy in full swing.

  “What do you mean you want her to move into your house?” Big bellowed, deep and grumbly, transferring his weight from one shit-kicker to the other.

  “Lindy Sue wants Bink back home. She said this place has warped her mind, Big. You know it has. You know this isn’t a place for a girl to be raised.” My dad tried to reason with Big. However, Big’s firm stance and the balled, white-knuckled fists that rested taut at his sides, were an indication this conversation was not going according to plan. Big was pissed. I couldn’t see his face since his back was to me, but I’d seen him this way a million times before.

  “I. Do. Not. Care. What that cunt wants—” Big said.

  Yelling over his president and cutting him off, my dad took center stage. “You do not speak about my old lady that way!”

  “I will speak about that cunt however the fuck I want. You’re lucky that I kept you in the club after all that bitch has pulled,” Big growled, flexing his leather cut covered shoulders, like he was about to fight. His long hair was tied into a messy man bun, giving me a clear view of the back of his neck and the thick constricting muscles that bulged with the pounding of his heart.

  “Don’t pretend you did that for me,” my daddy countered, cracking his knuckles. I couldn’t see him, but I could tell from his pain-laced words, that his admission of the truth deeply wounded him.

  “Should I have done that for you? It benefitted ya, didn’t it? Why the hell I did it doesn’t matter one fuckin’ bit. You’re still standin’. I didn’t put you or your old lady in the ground, now did I?” Big spoke menacingly, calculated and careful. It sent a chill through me, as I stood there, frozen. My hand gripped the cool metal knob of the door, preventing it from closing.

  I had been headed to the kitchen to grab an Italian Ice when I heard them yelling. That’s what stopped me in my tracks. And why I stood in silence, carefully watching two of the most important men in my life arguing in each other’s faces. No one else was around to witness it, except me.

  “No…and don’t pretend that I’m still breathin’ because of some bond of friendship we still have. That would be a fucking lie and you know it,” Daddy said.

  “You’re right, it would. One time, long ago, we were friends, brother. That shit caught fire and burned the hell up. Yeah?” Big was composed. Indignant? Yes. But there was a sense of calmness to his brusque declaration, which opened my eyes to a history that has still been left untold.

  “Yeah,” Daddy muttered, dejectedly.

  “So… This bullshit ‘bout you takin’ her away from here ‘cause Lindy Sue has some grand plan to be a spectacular mother, out of the motherfuckin’ blue, it ain’t happenin’. Tough shit. You need to get this through her dumbass head and through yours too. It. Is. Not. Going. To. Happen. You’re fuckin’ welcome to bring it up in Church. But I’ll tell ya brother, you bring Gunz in on this little discussion we’re havin’, and it’s going to go south real quick like. If it weren’t for that little towhead and me stoppin’ him, Gunz woulda put the cunt down long ago. You know it, and I know it. So let’s not play this little game where you come in here and pretend that you give a flying fuck, and let’s be real. What does she want? And how much is it gonna cost us?” Big laid it all out on the line, calling my daddy on his bullshit. I was in utter shock. The words ‘cost us’ rang true through my ears and it scared the ever lovin’ shit outta me.

  The sound of heavy footsteps approaching sped my heart rate, breaking me from my entrancement on the President and VP’s secret argument. Afraid of being caught, I silently closed the door until I heard the telltale click.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Gunz approached me with a bright smil, and a sucker for me. I took it with a fake grin and placed the sweet goodness into my mouth with an ‘Mmmmm’.

  “I was just headed to the kitchen.” My nerves were on high alert, even though I remained calm. I didn’t want to be caught. And more importantly, I knew if Gunz had any indication what was goin’ down in the common room, my world would have been screwed ten ways from Tuesday. I knew Big wouldn’t have said those things to my daddy if they weren’t the God’s honest truth. And I’ve known Gunz nearly my entire life, protective love forever runs through his blood. That was something I’ve never questioned.

  “Let’s go then.” Gunz rested his palm on my shoulder and together, both of us savoring our suckers, walked to the kitchen and treated ourselves to an Italian Ice…

  Hopping out of the shower, I thoroughly dry myself with one of Big's oversized plush blue towels, and comb through my hair using his brown brush. That is one of the benefits of sleeping in the room of a man who has long hair. Big owns hairbrushes, unlike Gunz, who is bald. He also has shampoo and conditioner and a few hair products. Plus, for whatever reason, tampons, women’s deodorant and a huge box of condoms. Magnum, ribbed for her pleasure. I opened one yesterday and stuck two fingers through it to feel the difference between the ribbed and the ones I normally use. There is a difference. Not a lot, but some. Makes me wonder if those are the condoms he carries in his wallet for all the whores he bangs.

  Dropping my towel into the hamper, I reenter my bedroom buck-naked and throw myself into another pair of my pajama bottoms and one of Big’s 2XL long t-shirts. My phone that is resting on the dresser begins to vibrate. Pretty sure this is the first text I’ve gotten nearly all weekend, except the one from my brother.

  Gunz: Fuck, Bink, why are you making me suffer like this? Haven’t you ever heard of cruel and unusual punishment?

  Chuckling, I drop my back onto the bed, legs dangling over the edge.

  Me: What am I making you suffer like?

  This should be good.

  Gunz: From food poisoning. These women can’t cook if their lives depended on it. And let me tell ya, baby doll, they’re depending on it. I am about to throw their asses to the dogs, along with their nasty fuckin’ food.

  Busting out in full on laughter, my mind drifts to a vision of Gunz sitting at the clubhouse bar, pushing some indistinguishable food around on a paper plate with a spork, his face stricken.

  My phone buzzes again.

  Blimp: Hey there pretty lady, we’ve got ourselves a bit of a problem down here. In need of some of your magical assistance.

  I guess the food really is bad tonight, which does nothing but make me smile like the bitch I am. See, they do need me. If they want me down there to cook, they’re going to have to do some major ass kissing. Just like I’ve had to do when I ask for favors. Like the time Black Betty broke down and Mickey had to come pick me up with the tow truck. I groveled at his feet. Sarcastically, yes, but it did the trick, made him laugh, and I got my bike back to the shop to get fixed up. A win-win all around.

  My phone buzzes yet again.

  Candy Cane: Houston, we have a major problem! Whores made cupcakes for brothers today, and they’re sick. EXPLOSIVE food poisoning has hit some of the men who ate more than one of the cupcakes. It’s a mess down here. I’m calling in for backup. We need you. Get over yours and Big’s shit and come help your family.

  I guess it isn’t just the food tasting terrible; the dumbasses did something else. What the hell? How do you give someone food poisoning with cupcakes? Guess I’ll have to find out. And here I thought I might get to live this cooking fiasco up. Not likely now that I’ve got business to take care of.

  Me to Candy Cane: I’m on my way.

  “Would someone like to tell me how this many people ended up sick?” Oh boy, I am fuming right now, pacing the kitchen, while staring down the group of five of the six club whores who did this to my men. I have been down here at the clubhouse for the past two hours cleaning up the whores’ mess. When they said sick, I didn’t realize that included Tripper, Dallas, Runner, Blimp, Viper, Bulk, Axel, both of the prospects, the brothers still here from out of town, and, my least or most favorite brother depending on how you look at it, Big. The only male that didn’t get sick is Gunz. Why? You may wonder… It’s because Gunz hates cupcakes or any cake for that matter. So he didn’t eat them. Lucky man.

  “I… I...” the chubby girl with the dragon tattoo stutters, afraid.

  “You? You? What? Spit it out,” I snap, running my hands through my hair, so full of rage I could explode at any moment. “Well?” I grind out, pinning her with my red-hot gaze.

  “Thursday we made this food dish… It used egg yolks…only…ummmm… Well…we sort ‘a saved the whites… and I used them…in the cupcakes…today…and ummmm… I also used this sour cream…too…for…ummm…the frosting…” she annoyingly creeps out, one maddening word at a damn time. Arg! I think I might scream!

  “So what you are trying to tell me is you used four day old egg whites? That…were, where? Let me guess…left out overnight and then put in the fridge the next morning?”

  “Not exactly,” the girl pipes up. “They were put in the fridge afterward. Then on Saturday night, somebody used them to dip chicken breast into. I used the leftovers today to put into the cupcakes. I didn’t know about the chicken. I swear.” She holds up her hands in surrender. “If I would have, I wouldn’t have ever used them.”

  I don’t want to believe her but I do. Even though it doesn’t change the fact that women basically served up a science experiment in the cupcakes for the brothers. Good intentions or not, they are fucking idiots.

  “So they might have salmonella poisoning? Is what you’re saying? And what about this sour cream?”

  “It was a few days past expiration.”

  “Did you taste it?”

  “Umm…” she hesitates, lips drooping into a deepened frown and curling her shoulders forward in palpable guilt.

  I wave my hand to shut her up before she says the word aloud. I can’t be responsible for my actions if I hear that one specific word impart her tiny lips. These women are taken in, cared for, fed, and treated with respect. And what do they do they offer in return? Loose pussies, terrible cooking, and food poisoning. That’s great…just…great…

  “No more cooking. You guys are off kitchen duty indefinitely. I will take care of it from now on, like I should have done in the first place. Now go grab those buckets, the bleach, and disinfect the common room. Since you made this mess, you will clean it up,” I demand, leaving no area open for debate. This is what they will do, and if they want to be part of this club in the whore capacity, then they will listen to me. If they don’t, they are out.

  “And Dixie, since you and Runner seem to get along just dandy, you will tend to him for the night,” I delegate, giving her the man I know she’d choose, since the one she really wants is gone, which would be my brother Brew. I appreciate Dixie the most out of all the whores, along with Niki, who I know will be with Gunz and is probably with him right now. They are two peas in a pod. Kink, fetishes, and all.

  “And you,” I heatedly point to the chubby brunette. Yes, it’s the same one who vomited from sucking Big’s cock. “Will take care of Blimp.”

  She doesn’t even try to feign the disgust I know she’s feeling for having to accommodate him. Blimp is a large, rotund man with a very long beard that always smells like pot smoke. He’s sweet and loving toward me, but to the whores, he’s demanding in the bedroom, and he’s not nice about it one bit. The whores hate dealing with him on their own. This is precisely why the dumbass who directly served the men up a platter of illness will be handling the biggest pain of them all. The only thing she’s got going for her is the fact Blimp loves thick women and eating pussy. From what I hear, he’s decent at it too. Not that I’d never know or want to know from firsthand experience. But like I’ve said before, news spreads fast, and I’ve seen him licking lots of pussy, for what seems like my entire life.

  I finish handing out assignments to the rest of the whores and head to the king’s bedchamber. I’ve checked in and looked after all of the other men thus far, besides him. I’m saving him for last. I guess he’s sick. I was told as much. He’s not been out of his room for dinner tonight, which is highly unlike him.

  Padding my way down the hall toward Big’s room, which is set apart from the others, I take the right at the end of the hall. My eyes set on Big’s door. I take in a deep breath and ready myself for whatever may ensue. Putting one foot in front of the other, I tiptoe until I’m standing right outside of it. Afraid to put my hand on the knob or to knock, I close my eyes, my chin to my chest, inhale deeply, hold it, and exhale in a slow sure breath.

  I can do this. I can see Big. I’m just doing my duty to make sure he’s alright. I try to tell myself. It’s not working. I know it’s going to awkward, and I am truly nervous about what I may do or say. My emotions are a jumbled mess. I have to do this. I need to do this.

  “Fuck!” I hear the deep growl of the only man I know who could sound like a true animal. “Yeah, that’s it.”

  The unforeseen wail of a woman’s moan erupts on the other side of the closed door, and shoots straight to my heart. I cover it with my hand, losing all the breath in my lungs. My chest aches like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Stumbling backwards, my back smacks into the block wall, and I slide down it. My butt rests on the floor, my knees bent, curled toward my chest, as tears threaten to overtake my vision. I can’t breathe. Oh God, I can’t fucking breathe.

  Why does this hurt so badly? I scream in my head. Running my fingers through my hair, and gripping it, tugging harshly to focus my mind on anything else.

  This can’t be my breaking point. I can do this. I can be strong.

  “That’s it, oh, fuck, ride that cock,” Big grinds out in pleasure. “Fuck, baby.”

  Another moan from the same woman skyrockets, echoing through the halls, blaring into my ears like a foghorn. Rocking myself, I screw my eyes shut, trying to ignore this ache and this crack in the very foundation of me. It’s crumbling, and I can’t glue it back together. Over a week’s worth of crushing emotions swarms me. My breath shoots out in short spurts. I can’t breathe! Dear God, I can’t fucking breathe!

  “Goddammit, baby, fuck, your tits, yeah, put ‘em in my mouth,” Big grumbles. The sound of a slap rings out, cutting through the air.

  “Ohhhh, yes,” the woman hisses. “More,” she moans.

  Three more precise slaps, strike in succession, followed by the woman’s cries of pleasure. I swallow hard to keep the bile from rising.

  This is the worst moment of my existence.

  No, no it’s not. I reprimand myself.

  Get it together, Bink. It’s just a single man fucking a single woman. You’ve seen this a hundred times over. Maybe not, Big. Maybe not a man you care about. It’s not the end of the world.

  Then the words that nobody wants to hear said to another woman are suddenly verbalized.

  “Come for me, baby,” Big huskily orders the woman. And she does. The woman cries out in the longest and most flawless erotic orgasm I have ever heard. I can hear it everywhere. Feel it everywhere. It cements itself to my damaged soul. Swimming around in my brain, teasing me, tormenting me with things that I wanted but could never have.

  Those four harrowing words reverberate within me, and I finally meet my breaking point, losing it completely. Biting my quivering bottom lip, unable to catch my breath, my ravaged heart shatters into a million tiny little fragments in my chest. I ache so badly. Tears that I was holding back, I can no longer hold. They stream freely down my face, dropping off my chin in fat plops. I tremble in anguish, grinding my teeth to keep from belting out the wail of pain that wants to blow through me. My fists painfully ball in my hair, making my scalp burn, as the furious pounding of my heart thunders in my ears.