RIDE TO NEW MEXICO

‟Happy?"

He looked up at me.

‟I want you to come with me." I said, standing in front of him, putting a hand down on the table he was sitting at. ‟I'm going to New Mexico for a few days and I want you to watch me."

‟Ok," he said, nodding slightly, no reaction on his face.

‟Good."

I realized I was drumming my fingers on the table and stopped that sign of nervousness immediatley. He was still looking at me as if waiting for something and I'll be damned if I knew what he was thinking.

‟Why me?" he then asked and I was honestly surprised. Usually he didn't make it that easy for you.

‟You're the only one I feel safe with," I answered, ‟and I like you." There, eat this! My expression became somewhat challenging, his stayed completley calm. I stared into his eyes until I lost my nerves and walked away.

The morning of the departure we met at the lot of Teller-Morrow at the long row of bikes. Many of the guys had a problem with me, a woman, riding a bike. They only warmed up to the idea slowly. Happy, however, wasn't one of them, he just shrugged when the others tried to get his opinion on that subject. I guess he didn't care much about other people's lifestyles.

‟You wanna take the lead?" I asked him to be on the safe side, because I knew some of the guys would probably freak if they had to ride behind a woman.

‟No," he said, ‟it's your ride, I'm just keeping an eye on you."

We took a break at a gas station. It was noon and the sun was burning down. As we filled our gas tanks I watched him. He pretended not to be aware of it.

‟Can I ask you something?"

‟Depends," he muttered.

‟Are you gonna talk to me on this journey at all?"

‟If it's necessary."

I rolled my eyes. ‟Do you hate me?"

‟No." He put down his sunglasses and gave me a stern look. ‟This is a job for me, girl. I'm your bodyguard and I don't want you to think of it as anything else."

I was slightly taken aback. ‟I wasn't. And don't call me girl."

Without saying any more, he turned around and walked up to the station entrance. I followed him, frowning.

We bought something to eat and sat down for a while in the shadow of the building.

‟Why did you say that before?" I asked, determined to get him out of his shell, or at least try. It was fun to bug him, he was a master of one word answers and I had always been curious how far I could go, before he would lose his coolness and rip my head off. So far, I hadn't dared to try it out.

‟Just wanted to make that clear," he answered, not moving his eyes away from his sandwich.

‟Yeah, sure, and why would I think something else?"

He shrugged.

‟It's because I said I like you, isn't it?" I went on, smirking.

He shifted uncomfortably and finally looked me in the eyes. ‟You're not supposed to," he said.

I stared at him and let out a snorting laugh. ‟Ok, Happy, whatever is going on in your crazy brain - nothing's gonna stop me from liking you, understand?" I held his gaze for a moment to make sure he got it then I rose to my feet. ‟Come on now, break is over."

The night we stayed at a motel near the road. Circumstances were that he had to keep an eye on me everywhere I go, so we just needed one room. There was only one bed too, a broad one though, but he refused to share it with me. He was going to stay up all night anyway, placed in a chair next to the door, with his gun on his knees. We still were rather close to home and chances were more likely that the Mexicans would find us and carry out their death threats.

It had been a while ago since I rode a whole day and I was pretty exhausted. I fell asleep quickly, feeling comfortable, knowing Happy was watching. As scary as he came across to people in general, as safe it felt being under his protection cause you knew everyone else would be as scared of him as you.

Nothing happened.

The next day we continued our ride without any incidents. At night we were on the road in the middle of nowhere and so we took our sleeping bags and set up camp between some trees and bushes, that kept us out of view from the road.

It was dark, stars glinting in the sky, wind softly rustling in the leaves and insects chirping in the grass. The most romantic scenery and then, Happy, standing there, tense, with a face like he had to scare off an army of savages. I suppressed a chuckle. Didn't want to give him anything to come down on me. I wished he would just sit next to me and tell me something. Anything, just so I could hear his pleasant dark and raspy voice.

‟Could you relax for a moment and sit down?" I inquired.

‟No," he answered, of course. ‟This place isn't very secure."

‟There's no one around, come on."

‟Shut up and go to sleep," he growled.

Rolling my eyes, I leaned back against the tree and crossed my arms. But I didn't stop following him with my eyes.

He walked in a wide circle around our camp, maybe to get away from me and I decided it would be better to lie down and try to sleep before he came back.

In the middle of the night I was rudely awakened by a gunshot. The same moment I was trying to jump to my feet, someone grabbed me from behind, slinging an arm tightly around my throat and dragging me up. I felt cold metal being pressed to my temple.

The moon was high in the sky and I could see everything clearly. Happy, standing across from us, his gun raised, a dead body on the ground not far from him, and two men, one holding me, the other standing next to him also with a gun in his outstretched hand. They were clearly Mexicans. The man behind me breathed heavily.

‟Drop the gun!" he shouted at Happy, pressing his own harder against my head and almost strangling me with his arm. ‟Or I'll blow her brains out!"

Happy didn't move. ‟I don't think so," he said coolly. It was most likely that these guys had the order to bring me to their bosses alive.

‟Drop it!" the second man yelled.

Then someone shot. I felt a wave of heated air hit my face and the man behind me tensed and then fell to the ground. Almost at the same moment a second shot hit the other man in the head. Happy had killed them both. I stared at the dead Mexicans at my feet and then felt something warm trickling down my face. I jumped and wiped it away with my hand. It was blood, but from the Mexican. I was whole.

I turned my gaze towards Happy, who slowly lowered his gun.

‟Are you insane?" I yelled, holding out my bloody hand. ‟You could've hit me! That was just an inch away from my head!"

‟Yeah, but I didn't, so relax." He stepped towards the body of the man he shot first and made sure he was dead. He did the same with the other two, not until then he put away his gun into the shoulder holster under his cut.

He turned to me. ‟You ok?" he asked.

‟No!" I felt sick. ‟You almost shot me!"

There was a fiery sparkle in his eyes and he bent down closley. ‟I saved your life!" he snarled. I couldn't hold his gaze, turned around and staggered back to the tree to lean against it. My knees were trembling so I slid down the trunk of the tree and watched Happy drag the dead Mexicans into the bushes. He had shot the man holding me, despite the fact that a gun was pointed at him too, and he had been quick enough to shoot the other one in time. Not many men would have had the courage or been lunatic enough to do that. I couldn't tell which was more applicable. Of course, he had put my life at stake too, but I was sure he wouldn't have if he hadn't known he could make it - at least, I hoped so.

Happy returned from hiding the bodies, he took off his gloves and stuffed them into the pocket of his hoodie. He walked up to my tree and crouched down in front of me.

‟Feelin' better?" he asked.

I nodded. ‟I'm sorry!" I said, looking him in the eyes. ‟I was just... completley shocked."

‟I'm good at aiming, you know." He sounded less tense, making me feel relieved that he wasn't mad at me.

‟Yeah, I've seen that!" I smiled tentatively. Suddenly I felt the strong urge to wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly and get hugged tightly in return. Normally I wouldn't have dared to but this wasn't a normal situation and so I just did it.

I pulled him in closely and leaned my face into the crook of his neck. To my delight, surprise and relief he put his arms around me too. He felt hot and hard and I felt safe, wanted to hold on for the rest of the night. However, I let go of him soon because I was aware of his attitude towards me and I didn't want to get on his nerves.

He looked at me with an expression that I couldn't read, maybe a bit worried.

‟I'm ok," I said smiling.

He nodded and got to his feet, but then he glanced at me once more. It was short but intense and completely took me by surprise. This kind of look I hadn't expected from him.

I got the feeling he was surprised by it himself and maybe didn't like it. ‟We must leave here, pack your things," he said rather gruffly and turned away.

One and a half hours later we found a motel and checked in. It was that kind of sleazy hotel I would never have dared to set my foot in all by myself. But with Happy by my side the world looked different. It really did - walking through life with a killer at your back made some things more easy.

I was very tired and still slightly in shock. Lying on the bed I thought about what had happened. I could have been killed so easily. The heat of the bullet flying by my head - I will never forget that.

And thinking of heat, my mind went straight to Happy. I could still feel him in my arms and now I remembered that he had smelled of leather and gunpowder. I buried my face in the pillow to muffle a groan. I shouldn't have hugged him in the first place, now I couldn't forget and I wanted more.

I heard him coming out of the bathroom and turned around to look at him. He walked past the bed ignoring me like before.

He dragged a chair to the window and sat down so he could watch what happened outside, weapon ready on the window sill.

‟Happy?"

‟No."

I frowned angrily. ‟You don't even know what I was going to say!"

‟Doesn't matter, the answer is no."

He may seem cold and unaffected most of the time, but this proved he was very sensitive when it comes to figure out other peoples intentions. Or maybe I was very easy to read. Probably.

However, I didn't want to take that shit from him. I jumped out of the bed and planted myself infront of him.

‟Don't treat me like that!"

He breathed in deeply, struggling for serenity very obviously. Then he turned his head and looked at me.

‟I can't do this... with you," he said. ‟I'm just here to-"

‟Do what with me?" I asked, raising my voice in annoyance.

‟You fucking know what I mean!"

‟Please," I cried out, ‟enlighten me!"

He shook his head. ‟No, I won't. Talking about it only makes it more real."

I raised my hands in desperation. Never met a more stubborn guy in my life.

‟I wish I was a tall, strong man right now," I sighed, ‟so I could beat it out of you!"

He smirked. ‟Yeah, you could at least try."

I stepped back to the bed and let myself fall down on it. Since I was no strong man, there maybe was a more womanly way to get it out of him. Whatever it was. I couldn't be sure he was thinking the same as I was. Even less, feeling the same.

I pretended to fall asleep and after a while I started squirming and moaning a bit. Then I threw my head from one side to the other and mumbled: ‟ No... no... don't shoot... please...!"

Come on, I thought, wake me up! He didn't until I let out a very convincing whine, then I felt him grab me by the shoulder and shake me, everything but gently.

I opened my eyes wide and stared at him in feigned shock.

‟You gone crazy now?" he asked teasingly.

I narrowed my eyebrows. What was wrong with that guy?

‟No," I said and it sounded a bit sulkily. ‟I had a bad dream."

There was a barely visible smile on his face. ‟What of?"

‟...Mexicans. Trying to shoot you..."

‟Me? They were after you."

I rolled my eyes. ‟It was a dream!"

‟Right."

He looked tired and I sat up. ‟Why don't you lie down and get some sleep? You've been up for two days now."

He shook his head and opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off.

‟Yeah, I know, you have to watch me, I'm an annoying little brat, you don't like me and you won't let me tell you what to do, but you can't do your job when you're too tired. So hand me that gun and let me do the watching for a while. I promise I'll wake you if I see someone outside!"

For a second he hesitated, then sighed. ‟Ok."

‟Good boy." I smirked and got out of the bed to sit down in the chair next to the window. He stretched out on the bed and looked at me.

‟You are annoying," he said. ‟And you're a brat, at least you're right on that."

I turned in my chair, eyes narrowed. ‟You're aware I have the gun now?"

‟You even know how to handle it?"

‟Don't make me show you."

‟You would shoot me?"

‟At least not in the head."

He chuckled.

Was he flirting with me? I turned to the window and smiled.

It was a long night. Happy fell asleep soon, I could tell by his calm and steady breathing. He didn't snore like most of the other guys in the club did, like they were beasts near to croak. Maybe because he wasn't a smoker.

When daylight finally came and people started to walk by outside, I decided to wake Happy. I looked down on him, he lay there, sprawled on the bed like he had nothing to fear, nothing to regret, like a completley innocent person. But I knew better. Various possibilities of waking him popped up in my mind: Should I poke him in the ribs, kiss him, bite in his earlobe, spill a glass of water on his face? The last one seemed very appealing to me but I decided to just put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze it slightly.

He grunted and turned away. I thought of what to do now. It could be dangerous waking a killer too abruptly. I climbed on the bed cautiously. Maybe if I bent down over him and quietly call his name... his head jerked up hitting me in the face, crushing my lip between my teeth and his skull. I screamed in pain.

‟What the hell!" He sat up looking startled.

I pressed my hand against my mouth which was already filled with the taste of blood. He quickly got the situation.

‟Tried to wake me?"

I nodded.

‟Sorry! Let me see." He pulled away my hand and turned my face to the light. ‟Bathroom," he said. I followed him, blood dripping.

‟Put it under the cold water," he ordered.

I did and the pain stang down to my chin. I winced and tried to pull back but he held my head down under the faucet til my lip went numb. Then he looked at it once more.

‟It's not very bad," he said, nodding encouragingly.

‟It feels very bad," I managed to say.

‟Sorry." He looked down at me with slight amusement. ‟Now you know, best way of waking me is with a stick from some distance." He grinned.

‟Not funny," I grumbled and looked in the mirror. My lip was already swollen and blood was still oozing out. Happy ripped off some toiletpaper and said: ‟Press that on your lip til it stops bleeding, ok?"

I did while I watched him gathering our stuff.

‟Can't we just stay here for one more day?" I asked. ‟I'm so tired, I could use some rest."

‟No, we have to keep moving. And we're not far from the Nevada charter clubhouse. When we arrive there you can take a rest."

There was no point in arguing with him because he was right. At the clubhouse we would be safe.

It was the longest ride ever. I hadn't slept at all and I was used to a good night sleep. The stinging and burning in my lip bothered me. I was a wuss and I felt ashamed that I obviously didn't inherit my father's outlaw genes.

Happy had to take the lead so I could just blindly follow him. It was 10 pm when we arrived at the Nevada clubhouse.

‟What happened to you, girl?" Jury asked at the sight of my face.

‟Don't call her girl," Happy said mockingly.

I shot him a glare. ‟Just a little misunderstanding," I explained to Jury.

‟You hit her?" The Nevada president looked at Happy, alarmed.

‟No!" we both protested at the same time.

‟It was an accident!"

They showed us some rooms upstairs in the building. I craved a shower and a bed, both I got but I wasn't happy.

Without Happy in my room I felt oddly lost and alone.

Eventually, I found the courage and walked over to Happy's room and knocked. It took a while until he opened the door.

‟What?!" he growled.

‟I'm kind of... lost... without you sitting by the window," I said with a crooked smile.

He stared down at me, probably thinking the words 'annoying' and 'brat'.

‟Can I -"

‟No."

Fucking 'no's' all the time. They started to piss me off.

‟What no? You don't -"

‟Just shut it, girl. I'm not discussing this shit again!"

He did that on purpose. I was furious. ‟Don't girl me! I'm thirty years old, I'm a woman!"

‟Right then, woman, go back to your room and go to sleep in your bed!" His eyes glinted warningly.

Mine did too. ‟Why are you doing this?"

‟Doing what?" His voice was cool now and that hurt more than all the hot words. I felt my eyes burn.

‟Asshole," I said and turned around. I went back to my room and slammed the door shut. Then I threw myself on the bed and let the tears flow, scolding myself for being so weak and let that man get to me like that.

I heard the knock on the door. ‟Fuck off!" I yelled and then remembered that I hadn't locked the door. Shit!

I grabbed the pillow and hid my face in it as Happy entered the room. He came on to the bed and sat down. I held my breath, almost choking in the pillow.

‟You're right," he said, ‟I'm an asshole, but I have to be. It's for your own good."

I jerked my head up and glared at him. Didn't care anymore if he saw me like that. ‟Let me fucking decide what's good for me!" I shouted at him.

There was no more coolness and containment in his eyes, they were burning. I realized that I had succeeded in my plan and that perhaps he was about to rip my head off any minute. Nothing happened. He just looked me in the eyes. My heart was beating so fast with anger and excitement that I couldn't keep myself sitting there any longer. I jumped out of the bed and marched into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I blew my nose and washed my face and tried to calm down. He got me unraveled just like I got him.

When I returned to the room he was still there, sitting on the bedside. I walked over and stood infront of him.

‟There's nothing I can do about it, I'm in love with you," I said.

For several seconds we just looked at each other, then he reached out to take my hips and I didn't need more for an invitation, I grabbed his face and kissed him.

Next second I was crying out in pain because I had forgotten about my lip.

‟Sorry," he said in a husky voice and brought his hands up to my face, pulling it down to examine the damage.

‟No, no, it's my fault." I held still, surprised by the gentleness of his touch. I got the feeling his big eyes were drinking me in and I sank onto the bedside, no longer able to keep myself upright. He kissed me cautiously on the side of my mouth that wasn't injured, but that wasn't enough. ‟Screw it," I mumbled.

He threw me on my back, buried me underneath him. I didn't have enough arms and legs to wrap around him as I would have liked. We kissed again and I didn't pay attention to the pain, it felt so good.

He pulled back. ‟Doesn't that hurt?" he asked worriedly.

‟Not that bad." I smiled and I couldn't take my eyes off his beautifully shaped lips. ‟Kiss me!"

He did and he was careful and it didn't hurt so much anymore. I shoved my tongue in his mouth, wrapped it around his. I couldn't get enough of how he felt. His weight was heavy upon me and I loved it.

He broke the kiss several moments later and looked at me. I grabbed him tightly around his back. ‟Don't go away," I begged, ‟it would kill me."

‟That's very dramatic," he said with a smile.

‟No." I sounded quite breathless. ‟It's true. I need you, Happy!" I tried to kiss him but he pulled back his head teasingly, making me squirm.

‟Please stay," I whispered, feeling slightly at the edge of losing it. I arched my back to get closer to him.

‟I'm not going anywhere," he said, his smile growing wider. ‟Not with you being so hot right now."

I chuckled quietly. ‟You have no idea!" I pulled him down on me, caught his lips, their touch causing me to moan. ‟My panties are soaked, I want to feel you inside of me!"

‟Damn!" he breathed. ‟What's gotten into you?!"

‟Take me, please!" I grinded my hips against his, feeling his erection.

‟I will!" He sat up and got rid of his clothes, I did the same.

He didn't give me time to think, he gave me what I dreamed of - that combination of rough and gentle, just how I needed it.

It wasn't always that mindblowing, I guess you can't have a glimpse of heaven every day. Just wanted to say that...

‟And now?" I asked, after we woke up the next day. ‟Are you going to run and never talk to me again?"

He looked at me with slight surprise. ‟No. Why should I?"

‟Oh, I heard this and that..."

‟Yeah, I guess you're talking about crow eaters -"

I nodded.

‟But you are not some piece of pussy," he said. ‟and the question is, are you gonna run?"

‟No, of course not!"

‟You sure? Because -"

‟Hey," I cut him off, ‟don't start again with that 'you're not supposed to like me' shit."

‟But it's true, you're a good girl -"

‟Excuse me?" I snorted, half amused, half annoyed.

‟Sorry, a decent woman." He suppressed a smirk.

‟And you? What are you in your opinion?"

‟Everything but decent." Now the smirk after all appeared on his face. ‟No, I'm serious, you should stay away from me."

‟Oh come on, I'm not dumb! I've been around the club for three years now and I know what you do."

I looked him in the eyes and managed to hold his inquiring gaze.

‟I know that you're the club's hitman."

There was a long pause. We were staring at each other. I hoped that he would believe me that I didn't care.

‟And you're okay with that?" he asked. ‟I mean, for real?"

‟I've been asking myself that question for a long time," I said slowly, ‟and yes, I am."

‟You know, most of the girls don't care about it because they don't know or because they only want to spend a night with me from time to time..."

I raised an eyebrow. ‟So, what you're saying is, that you expect me to want to spend more nights with you than one?" I grinned.

‟You said you were in love with me, so, yes," his answer was.

I shook my head slightly. ‟Self-confident bastard."

‟Ain't I right?" he asked and for a second I had the impression that he was a little unsure.

‟Yes, you are. And you fucking know that. And I'm not gonna hide my feelings for you. I like you how you are, all of it."

He shoved the blanket down to uncover his tattoos and pointed at one on the right side of his stomach. ‟You know what they mean?"

I bent over to look at it. It was the bunch of little smiley faces. He watched me, waiting.

‟Everyone stands for a person you've killed." It was the first thing that came to my mind.

‟You're way too smart," he said.

‟So, I'm right?" I asked a bit marveled. I counted them silently. ‟Just twenty?"

He gave me an incredulous look.

‟I always thought they were more. Sorry," I added as he began to shake his head. ‟How many kills do I need to get your approval?" he asked, chuckling.

‟No, I didn't mean it like that," I protested.

‟These are only the ones I was especially asked to do," he explained with a slight smile.

‟Oh."

‟Better?"

‟Much." He couldn't miss the sarcastic tone in my voice.

‟Never thought that you would be the craziest bitch I ever met," he said with a broad smile.

‟Decent woman and crazy bitch rolled into one," I snickered.

‟Just how I like it."

Our eyes locked and apparently he sensed the question that popped up into my head. ‟I always liked you," he continued. ‟At least, been attracted to you. At first. Like every other man in the club had been."

‟What?" I frowned in disbelief. ‟Why?"

‟Why? Look at you! All of us wanted to get you in bed. And I'm the lucky one." The dirty smirk on his face made me laugh. ‟You guys are a bunch of horndogs."

Then another question raised in my head. ‟So, why did you always ignore me, if you were interested in me?"

‟Because I'm not the man for solid relationships and I knew instantly when I saw you first that you weren't a girl for one night."

I frowned. ‟I had one-night stands, you know, I'm not that boring!"

‟That's not what I meant," he said sternly. ‟You are the type of woman someone would want as an old lady. And believe me, we're all well trained to distinct bitches from old lady material."

‟Oo...kay." I had to process that. Sure, I was glad not to be considered a piece of pussy but on the whole that was a very rigorous way to look at women.

‟Hey, that's a compliment!" he said and tried to pull me closer, I didn't let him.

‟Yes, but I dont like this attitude you guys have towards the women you obviously like to fuck very much. I mean, they do what you want and still you have no respect for them. It's your needs they satisfy and you speak badly of them!"

We looked at each other and he realized that I was serious about it.

‟Yeah, I guess that's somehow twisted. But, honestly, I can't respect a woman who only wants to fuck me because I'm wearing a cut and on the next day my brothers, so she could tell her friends that she had them all."

I laughed.

‟Seriously, it is like that most of the time. That's why they're called bitches."

‟Okay, I get it, it's not only one way round." I moved closer to him, eyes lingering on his lips. ‟I don't wanna fuck you because of your cut," I said in a low voice.

‟I know, you want it because I killed dozens of people," he replied with a chuckle.

‟Right, that turns me on a lot," I sneered and kissed him. He wanted to grab me and roll me onto my back but I put my hand on his chest to stop him.

‟Wait, one last question."

‟What?"

‟You said you kept your distance because you don't like relationships. Why did you change your mind?"

‟I haven't, but I guess I'm powerless against you."

‟Don't blame it all on me!" I said grinning.

He smiled. ‟No, I'm just tired of pretending not to like you."

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