JEFF

It's something that has always bothered me about owning a pub. I mean I'm not exactly a pansy, even if I am a pansy, but nor am I Mike Tyson either. It was bound to happen eventually. Generally, we pick up a decent clientele at the Come On Inn and the worst problem is a few who've drunk too much or square up to each other over girls. Nothing Paul can't handle, especially with me to pile in with him and pull the brawlers apart. And when Chili's around then we make quite a team.

But, it was only a matter of time before some thug wandered past and saw the chance for some easy pickings. What worried me most about that gig was Paul. He's a bit reckless and always thinks he can handle himself. Don't get me wrong, he's a tough bloke when he has to be but he's not really a fighter. One of those animals out there would leave him for dead, kick his head in for nothing but sport. Especially if they work out he's gay. And, let's face it, Paul doesn't exactly hide the fact now, does he? It frightens me more than I readily admit. That something would happen to him and I'd be helpless to stop it. But I'd try. Bloody die in the attempt if I had to as well.

It always happens when you're looking the other way, have you ever noticed that? We were just hanging round the bar on a fairly quiet night. Paul had the usual fan club around admiring his diamante piercing and his toned belly. I'd already done my fair share of admiring both. God, he's got a beautiful body...So there I was perving at a distance, amusing myself watching him prance about like a peacock when I heard the main door. It was flaming hard to miss; someone had hit it so hard that it slammed against the wall. You know already that the person entering is after trouble.

I turned my head and looked at him. The funny thing is I didn't cop who he was straight off. It was that thing when we don't see the person but the image the present. I think we do that a lot, actually, judging people by the way they're dressed or what ethnic group they come from or something. You'd think I'd be less inclined to that, seeing as I belong in my own minority group as far as some people are concerned, but frankly, I'm the same as anyone else. Particularly where this sort of bloke is coming from.

If you see a man like this in the street - you cross over to the other side and hope he hasn't noticed you. That would go for most people, I would think: women would be afraid he would molest them, boys would be afraid he'd beat them up, men would be uneasy at the latent violence he represented, gays would see serious trouble afoot, any ethnic person would run a mile. And the rest of the community would just see a social deviant who might mug them or just hassle them for fun.

So all I really clocked when he swaggered in was that he was a Skin: shaven head, ugly aggressive tattoos, metal capped boots, no nonsense shirt and too-short jeans with braces - the usual skinhead uniform. He appeared to be alone - unusual for these pack animals, but his posse might be outside letting him check out the ground - and he was clearly scoping us out. He had this sneer on his pale face and a mocking expression even in the way he walked. He was afraid of nothing and no one, he hated everyone and everything - and the best fun he could imagine was if one of us dared invade his space and give him a reason to bring his own brand of punishment down.

I lowered my head but gave the room a quick once over. There was Cullen in the corner romancing a few of the girls waiting for their guys with some bullshit about being kidnapped - he looked more like he'd been on the mother of all benders to me but he never wastes a chance to make some book with the ladies. At the bar was Paul who had, as luck would have it, decided to dress tonight in a frilly white shirt - worn mostly open to show off his new acquisition, and a pair of midnight blue satin pants with pink flowers on them. He was also wearing eyeliner.

Paul is a rather quirky dresser. Some days he looks like Man at Hugo Boss, another day he is like the Marlboro Man, all jeans, cowboy boots and checked flannie, then he might be urban rebel, or  smooth operator, army khakis, athletes' sweats  or we might get street threads like a white rapper...but tonight he had decided on gay glam rocker. You can't fault his fucking time, hey? In walks the devil himself and Paul stands out like a flag on a pole. I felt a lump forming in my throat and a cold sweat settling on me.

The bloke had noticed him and his eyes narrowed, his lips curling in a sardonic amusement. It was obvious he had already decided on his first target.

"Oi, Sheila...get me a pint....!"

Paul looked up at his shout, Jessie, Loreta and Kathy, too. The girls paled and moved as if to flank Paul. They already saw what the likely game was.

"Lager or bitter?" Paul asked without appearing to take much notice of the skin. But as he turned to the pump his eyes flickered towards me and he tilted his head as if to warn me to get out. I just looked down and acted like I was minding my own business. There was no way I was leaving him in here alone.

"You got VB?"

"Yeah." Paul drew the pint and set it down, stating the price.

"Not sure I want this glass he just pulled..." the Skin said, looking around for an audience for his mockery. "...not after he's just pulled his boyfriend's dick..."

I saw Paul's face stiffen at the comment but he merely repeated the request for payment. It was obvious this thug was going to expect the beer for free or start throwing his weight around. I glanced up and saw the Cullen had begun to listen. He was doing nothing but observing but I could see him flexing his right fist as if in readiness. I felt a lot better then. You couldn't do much better than have Murphy on your side in a blue. He might be little and skinny but he's a force to be reckoned with or he would never have got the TOL job.

But before the stand off actually kicked off, help came from a surprising corner. I hadn't really taken much notice of O'Brien slumped further down the bar. He's not exactly a livewire at the best of times.

"Another VB, mate, and put his on my tab...you from Oz? Name's O'Brien...." He never ceases to amaze me, that bloke. He appears so bloody vacant half of the time and acts like he hasn't two brain cells to rub together and then he does something really intuitive - but still seems able to make it look like a total accident. I can't work out if he is dense or extremely deep. But I could have kissed him then.

The Skin shot his head round and glared at him. O'Brien didn't turn a hair. "So what's your job around here? You the resident Elvis impersonator?"

Colin just stared. "Don't apply for the stand up job. You're about as funny as the rest of them in Footscray...."

That unnerved him - and it was the mention of Footscray that made me chance a decent look at the bloke. Jesus flaming Christ - Hando from Romper Stomper! I should have bloody guessed! "How you know I'm from Footscray...?"

"'Cos I know the accent. And I know how unfunny they are..."O'Brien sidestepped that one with more dexterity than you would have given him credit for.

"Think you're hard, do you?"

"More than think, mate..." Colin muttered and returned to his pint.

His lack of apparent concern seemed to reassure Hando. "Do I know you?" Maybe he had thought the face familiar. Wonder why?

"No."

"Where you from?" Hando settled down on a bar stool next to O'Brien and seemed to forget Paul and the rest of the clientele, his curiosity aroused.

"Here and there," answered O'Brien.

"Victoria?"

"Mostly NSW."

"What do you do?"

"Motor shop. Engine work, body repairs...'

"I'm looking for a job..."

Colin stared. "So are a lot of people...." Then he pulled a business card out of his pocket. "Show me what you can do. Tomorrow arvo. But I'm warning you, bring any of your little skinhead pals near my shop and you'll be sorry. I've got as much form as you so don't try anything funny."

"Cheers, mate." Hando saying thank you? "What you do for fun around here?" He added staring at the room. "Some tasty sluts in here...they up for it, ya reckon?"

Colin shrugged.

"What's that mean?"

"Dunno. Go ask them...."

"What's wrong with you?"

"Got enough on my plate. I'm having a night off. Need a break. I'm fucking rooted...." Colin muttered.

"Break? No such thing as too much. Who is she? Need a hand?"

Colin frowned. "Maybe. Got two women on my back. You interested in joining me tonight?"

"Dogs or what?"

"High class. Better than you normally get, mate."

Hando inhaled his pint and slammed it down. "What we waiting for? If they like you, Elvis, they're gonna love me..."

Colin shrugged and pulled out his cell. "Candice? Look, I'm seeing Barbie tonight but I don't want to let you down. I've got a friend.....yeah? Okay, pick you up in half an hour...." He closed the phone. "Next drink's on you, Skin...she bit. Hope you can keep up, she's goes like a fucking express train...."

And they strolled out. The Skin and the Teddy boy. Paul rolled his eyes. Cullen turned back to his audience. Tension drained from the place. I breathed again.

But one thing's for sure.

He'll be back.

ANN

When we found the new way into the Come On Inn, it was a rather embarrassing if extravagant new grand entrance for Maximus and me. He'd pulled me into the broom closet at Rosie's Tavern ... he'd kissed me ... I don't know that I knew anything else existed when he held me like that.

There was a light, a shift in the air ... and then Paul's hand reaching into what turned out to be a supply closet in the pub.

Max and I were caught red handed with our hands all over each other and our pants down ... literally in my case whereas in Max's it was just his zipper down and his ... member ... out.

Poor dear. He was so embarrassed. Imagine? I love that about him. Just when I think how he can be so free and daring with me sexually, I get a reminder of how very private he keeps such demonstrations of affection.

It was a grand night, though. We had found it at last ... a new way back to the pub after the bar's entrance in the Marigny had ceased to exist with Katrina's foul winds. And it was right in our new little town.

The trick, Max said to me that night when we were home in bed musing about this incredible good fortune, was to be discreet. We had to not arouse interest among the locals about why we would go into Rosie's, then disappear for a while, then reappear. We had to not look like total lushes, always hanging around the tavern.

The next day, I came up with a brilliant idea for myself. I could take Ralph's suggestion and start selling Rosie some of my baked goods that she could put on her menu. That way, I would have a ready excuse to go in to see her every day I wanted ... I'd just bring along some creation to her kitchen, then wait til she was distracted, and sneak down the hall to the broom closet and ... away I'd be, into the Come On Inn! It was perfect.

So I did it.

That very day. Max was off at work in the city and I simply put my plan into action.

I'd missed everyone so much! I just wanted time with them to catch up. I made lime meringue tarts; Rosie tasted one and we had a deal for me to bring things by whenever I had something yummy and she'd put them on her "today's specials" board ... and as long as they sold, we'd be in business so to speak.

The moment her back was turned, I was scooting down the hall, through the broom closet and into the pub.

I found Karen, Clarity, John and Tulip at the bar. Jessie and Loreta were working behind it. We girls kind of screeched at each other; John was amused by that, let me add.

Before too many minutes, I was getting caught up on the news. A lot had happened while Max and I had been away dealing with the bad things dealt by Katrina. The Bud I knew was gone and a new one was here. There was a new guy named Cullen they assured me I'd look forward to meeting because he had the gift of blarney and righteous babe looks. Jessie's pregnant. Wildie was in jail and everyone was actively hating her ex-hubby who'd had the stupidity to drop by the pub a few times. Clarrie and John had a talking bear. Michele hadn't been around but Colin dropped the hint that she has gone out with Bud. Bou, Cort and Faith are gone somewhat mysteriously. I made a mental note to tell Maximus. Johnny and Colin have fallen in with Hando ... and  ... well ...

Full stop, okay?

Hando was here? In our place?

I had an instant reaction. I said, "Hando? Hando's here? Oh my god! Hando. Whew."

They pretty much rolled their eyes at me and I giggled into my wine. Then Colin came in. I gave him a hug because I hadn't seen him in so long ... and then I busted his chops for getting Johnny corrupted by Hando, which is just wrong on so many levels. Not only is he dating Erycina, whom I know he loves, but Johnny is a good man and it seems to me that good men can meet their ruin when someone like Hando targets them.

Colin, though, he basically told me that Hando was his new "mate" (which I find amazing considering Colin's girlfriend in his film was Asian, which you know Hando would take a dim view of given his whole violent displeasure at "mixing races"). And he also tells me that it's not his job to keep Johnny out of trouble.

So while we're kind of chewing on this pronouncement, I get the giddy sense of being back in the pub, back involved. I blurt out about how cool it's going to be to meet Hando, to totally sass him and piss him off ... but most of all, to just look at him.

I mean, we're talking Hando here. What woman does not harbor something deep and dark when it comes to Hando?

Why, yes, my name is Ann and I do have a big mouth. Have we just met?

John told me I just like trouble. Maybe. Clarity said not to make direct eye contact. Right. Can I really be the only one who wants to just look at him?  Am I the only one who thinks looking at Hando will be an incredible rush?

No, I was not. Some of the others admitted as much.

Colin gave us a bit of lip, saying we were acting like Hando was some kind of mythic creature when he was just a "bloke" like all the rest of them. Just a bloke? Hando? It's like saying Maximus is 'just a man.' You know?

I couldn't wait to be the first person to tell Hando "this is not your country" because he was in our country, not his own, so that would be funny, right? Apparently I was the only one who thought so.

Just as I was picturing saying that to Hando, Colin ruined our buzz ... he says we're so busy running, putting on a show, that we haven't considered that we don't even know Hando yet, so why are we pre-judging him and finding him scary?

With that bit of nudging us to consider that we should be welcoming to Hando, Colin skips out after he gets a phone call. Jessie says it's gotta be one or more of the girls who work at the spa ... who all have an enormous crush on Colin.

Who walks in next? The one "bloke" we're all talking about how we should just buy him a beer and try to get to know him. And I am still unaccountably so anxious just to look at him. And sass ... mustn't forget I am wanting badly to sass him.

Hando. Walks into the pub. In real life. In flesh and blood. In jeans that fit like a second skin. In he struts, smoking, looking about like he owns the place.

I feel hot. I know how shallow that sounds. But there is something about him that calls up a reaction in me so intense it shocks me for all I'd been joking around with everyone.

What happens that day between Hando and me will confuse me and scare me for its power and for the way it felt inevitable that I'd cross a line I never imagined I could. It is an internal line. A mark in the sand of who I am. Above all things of who I am now, I am a woman deeply and utterly in love with a man I consider to be my life's love. How could I then react to Hando as I do somewhere very deep inside where he should not touch?

Have I grown as complacent in that love as I have in other aspects of my life lately? Perhaps.

What really happens?

Perhaps not much by what anyone outside the two of us would witness or feel.

It starts as a joke ... me unable to not sass a bully ... He ignores me, which, of course, stokes my internal fire. How long has it been since any man has challenged me in a way that makes me flare like this?

I know only one man who was ever capable of that. I never thought another man could make me feel that. It's been a while, though, with Max, I admit ... frankly, Max and I have outgrown that. We are now on a more peaceful path together, building our future, the one we want, the one he first made me imagine and desire.

These least few months, I have withdrawn from the pain of loss that is what Katrina represents to me. In the wake of the storm, I have changed to be a person more sure that what I really wanted all along is what I have now: an uncomplicated future. And that future will be complete with new life that Max and I will bring into being.

I didn't recognize what happened with Hando at first. It's because I got swept up into it. And I let it fly.

He said something rude. I took it as a challenge. He was a vortex that sucked me in. I should have never played that game. I didn't have to. But I did. Being that close to him was simply overpowering. Yet he should never have been able to mesmerize me that way ... not me who has Maximus in my life.

It was a bad habit, wasn't it? To let a man of raw, brutal force of personality draw me into his vortex. I should have had the restraint to not mess around with him. I should have had the native intelligence to realize that you just do not joke around with Hando. I wanted to put him in his place as payback for his pissy attitude toward those of us in the pub. So I didn't follow Clarity's advice; I not only made direct eye contact, but I got into a verbal slugging match with him.

He slapped me with an insult. I slapped back with insults of my own. He insulted Maximus. I told him Max would wipe the floor with him. He mocked me. I said Max would teach him a lesson for insulting him. He asked why I couldn't imagine him and a representative of the First Reich would have something in common.

I mocked him again because can anyone ever imagine a man of Max's integrity deigning to be in the same room with someone of Hando's low ethics much less stopping long enough to have a conversation? I could much, much better picture Max wiping the floor with Hando the first time Hando so much as looked at him crooked.

Then, for once in my life, I stopped and thought about what I was doing when I was angry. I tried to throw him off his stride by changing tactics. I suggested we start over, clean slate. Everyone thought this was a great idea. I was civil to Hando, showing him I could be nice. He followed by coming on to me. I was infuriated. But, Hando, he saw my weakness, that there was something behind the fury that was confusion and insecurity and curiosity where it should not be. He exploited it, as he would. He came on to me stronger, and in a way that I could not ignore but had to bring to a hard stop.

It was in the stopping that I realized I'd called this upon myself. I had played with fire ... it had singed me, but good.

The thing is ... I don't think that was the hard stop ending it should be. I do think something has happened inside me that shouldn't have.

I think it's why I argued with Max last night. I told him about meeting Hando ... I didn't tell him all of it, naturally. But I made it clear to him that Hando had insulted me ... and had insulted Max, to boot. We argued, Max and I, because he went all sane and reasonable, saying basically that he expected nothing less than that Hando would see Max as a man to challenge.

Why didn't Max see it? That Hando wasn't so much challenging Max as he was challenging me? Wasn't he? Wasn't that what had happened?

Why did it scare me to think Max might have looked in my eyes during our argument and seen there was something deeper, darker in this reaction I've had to Hando?

I haven't really done anything wrong.

Why do I feel as if I have?

Why am I so disappointed in myself?

I have resolved to make this up to Max. To demonstrate, without words, that all I've ever felt for him is true. That the love I have for him is all consuming. That nothing and no one could ever disrupt it.

JESSIE

Make no mistake - I saw the potential for trouble that accompanied Hando into the pub as he made his presence known to all of us that first evening. But I've worked behind a bar for far too long to allow myself to feel too much concern over what would or wouldn't happen every time a testosterone-charged Alpha Male strutted into the pub. And while I did find his physicality to be rather magnificent, I felt my hackles rising defensively over his smarmy insults directed towards Paul, just as I do any time some stupid shmuck takes it upon himself to make disparaging remarks about any of my friends' sexuality. It doesn't matter that Paul is more than capable of knocking a few heads together and mopping up with them afterwards when the need arises; he's one of my dearest friends and my mamma bear instincts kick into overdrive anytime someone sends a bigoted comment his or Jeff's way. 

In spite of my intense dislike for Hando's personal philosophies, I really don't know of many women who haven't secretly enjoyed a bit of the caveman mentality in their own guys - myself included; that 'Your body belongs to me and I'll do with it as I please,' mind set that takes hold on occasion. God knows that Lachlan isn't immune to letting the caveman take hold of his libido from time to time. I secretly believe that this was the driving force behind my method of birth control failing when it did - those Neanderthal infused spermatozoa of his kicked the butt of my Ortho Novum drenched defenses...I never even stood a chance.

I do feel a certain amount of concern over how some of the younger men are falling under Hando's influence, however. Believe me, I've watched too many really nice guys destroy what had been a perfectly wonderful relationship with some special woman over a moment of macho self-indulgence in the desire to "prove" something to their buddies. The unfortunate truth of the matter was that it only took one nano-second to cross over the line to the point of no return, and I couldn't help but feel rather sad and powerless as Johnny Ryan allowed himself to get caught up in the feeding frenzy. What else could I or any of the rest of us do? I wasn't in the habit of offering unasked for advice, and any disapproving commentary over the matter would only fall on deafened ears. I mean, what was the point? Illicit sex has been responsible for the downfall of nations since time began, and if history held no lessons to these young men to take heed when their libidos and egos went into overdrive, then who the hell was I to offer up something to make them stop and reconsider?

My heart ached for Erycina over what she must be going through right now. Infidelity on the part of the man you absolutely adored was one of love's harshest trials. But I had to give her credit - the way in which she handled Johnny's betrayal seemed to have managed to knock a few hard truths into his thick skull where nothing else seemed to have taken hold. As to whether or not they could work it out, only time would tell. Johnny was a good guy. I only hoped his common sense would get out of his pants and back into his brain where it belonged.

Now Kim, on the other hand, this development concerned me in a much different way. I had been quite taken with him from the moment he first appeared in our little enclave, much in the same manner that I had felt myself drawn to Cort when I had first arrived to the pub; I'm certain that he and I had known each other in a prior life, and this was how I had always explained our rather strong big brother/little sister type of bond to anyone who cared to listen, and I felt this same way with Kim. I saw through his posturing and insufferable arrogance from day one. (I think I may have been the only one around here who did!) And while the others may have just figured that his hooking up to join in with Hando and Colin's sextra-curricular activities was par for the course for one such as him, I know there will be a day of unpleasant reckoning when this whole set of sordid events finishes playing out. I only hope he'll remember that I'm his friend and will listen if he feels the need to talk afterward. I have high hopes for him; perhaps it's not yet too late.

Another thing that rather surprised me was how Ann had reacted to Hando's presence in the pub. She's usually so wrapped up in Maximus that no other man seems to get under her skin, but I don't know...I hate to say it, but I think her reaction to Hando is not a good sign. I hope my instincts on this are wrong, because if they're not, I don't want to be witness to what may ultimately go down.

"My God, he's so...intense!" Loreta had been keeping her eyes on Hando ever since he had sat down at the bar that evening and one didn't have to be a rocket scientist to see that she was more than a little bit intrigued.

I suddenly found myself compelled to break my rule of never offering unasked for advice. "Down girl...trust me on this one - you so DO NOT want to go there."

I sincerely hoped she'd listen...I didn't want to watch her and Alex spontaneously combust over her fascination with Hando.  

"I'm only admiring! I can look, can't I?"

Good God...she could be so mature beyond her years sometimes, and other times act like a complete schoolgirl. "It's not so much that you look, but the expression on your face when you do. Think how you'd feel if Alex frothed at the mouth like that over someone like, oh, say....Michele?"

She rolled her eyes in response but I think my analogy struck home. At least I hope it did. "I think I'd kill him. Then her."

"Good. Keep that thought fresh in your mind the next time you pass by Hando. Don't invite trouble where none exists."

She seemed to take my words to heart because she busied herself with restocking the bar for the rest of the evening, and didn't give Hando a second look. I felt like I had quenched at least one potential fire that evening.  Now, if could only somehow have the same amount of influence with Kim ...I really think I'm getting too old for this kind of shit...

MICHELE

It was late. I was alone. I was in the office, trying to catch up on paperwork and pretending I was not sitting there for the last few hours just musing about Officer Wendell "Bud" White ... and about the way his lips had felt when he'd kissed me good night after our first date.

I sighed at last, shook my head, and had a laugh at myself. It was like high school and I was feeling like I'd just gone out with the quarterback. Well, a well-mannered, gentlemanly quarterback who somehow mixed equal doses of old-fashioned all-man tough guy and gentle soul.

The clock on my computer read 11:37 p.m. The clock inside my brain read me as way too mature to be getting nervous around any man. But there you have it: it was almost midnight and I was still at the office, trying to reason my way around the fact that I 'liked' Bud White. And he 'liked' me. And it felt both unnerving and exciting.

It wasn't supposed to happen. My departure from Chili's life ... well, rather, my exile from Chili's existence ... it was too fresh and still painful. As I had admitted to Bud just a few nights ago, I had decided to take a bit of time without any romantic complications. It's always worked in the past ... take some time, get over a man, then climb back in the fray with my spirit restored for the game of love and men. I had become rather good at it, in fact.

Then Bud asked me out anyway. And I said yes anyway.

So here I was, late at night, musing over the phenomenon of Bud White's ability to make me nervous. Men never make me nervous. Never. I've always enjoyed handling men without heavy emotions clouding my ability to deal with them from a position of strength.

Why was I not handling Bud when it'd been so easy to handle Colin?

Colin was easy. He had been wanting to pursue something sexual with me ... a girl can tell ... but when I told him I needed him as a friend more, he complied. And I have grown to adore Colin as one would adore the goofy kid brother you feel you have to watch out for but who is also watching out for you.

And watching him juggle the ardent and amorous attentions of the women who work for me ... and Raul, who also works for me ... well, it has its very amusing moments. Personally, I think Colin plays the field really well because he takes nothing serious but he is quite willing to take advantage of any opportunities that bounce his way.

As if I'd cued his arrival, at just the moment when I'd turned off my computer and begun packing my briefcase to leave the office, I heard the sound of someone jiggling the lock in the front door to the spa. This metallic sound in the quiet of a night like this carried exceedingly well throughout this oasis. My first thought was that this had to be a burglar about to get the surprise of his life ... hadn't Bud warned me just last week about crime in this area?

Coming in to rob me and you will never believe you've picked the wrong place to rob, I thought as I crossed the room to look into the security monitors. But as soon as I called up the one that was aimed at the front door, I started chuckling.

Colin.

With Barb and Candy.

Oh, naughty boy, I thought to myself

That's when I noticed it was not just a threesome. There was another man with them, just on the edge of the camera's range. I couldn't see much. I had to wait until they got the door open and were heading in ... and then the man stepped into the light and looked straight into the camera as if he knew he was being watched.

I recognized him immediately.

Hando.

Degenerate bastard. Probably thinking he could find things here to steal and pawn ... and Colin too easily falling back on his old criminal abetting days to stop Hando. And were Barb and Candy too stupid to remember the security set up here would capture on tape that they'd let this twerp in here tonight?

I had my hand on my phone and was about to call 911 but then I had second thoughts. Maybe I'd just wait ... let Hando dig a grave and capture it on tape ... then call 911 to come cap his ass.

Better yet ... maybe I should call Bud and let him have the pleasure of arresting Hando.

I hesitated though ... not because I felt any affection for Hando but because it just dawned on me that this was the first time I'd seen him. As far as I'd known, he'd not been one of the guys hanging around the pub. Had he always been around but I'd never known? Or was he just now arriving? How freaky was that?

I watched the four screens of the security monitor, adjusting from camera to camera to follow where they went in my spa. They barely paused in the reception area. Barb pulled Colin into the Jacuzzi area; Candy skipped into her massage room with Hando in earnest pursuit. I could hear them walking about, hooting at each other, but the sounds were not distinct. I turned the sound on for the monitor in Candy's room.

It didn't take much to understand that they'd come back to the spa after a night of bar hopping and swapping spit ... and intending to have some fun and games here in the spa. It sounded like it'd been Hando's idea after he found out what Candy did for a living ... wanting to experience her magic fingers himself.

He got his shirt off right away; she was warming oils in her palms in anticipation of spreading them over his torso and beginning to work on him.

I found myself leaning in closer to the monitor. Hando's body was impressive. It was built for endurance not speed. 

He dropped his pants as Candy giggled and handed him a towel. He climbed on the table and tossed the towel on her head. I couldn't stop watching her work on him as he laid there, on his tummy, arms up supporting his head, accepting her work as his due. He looked like a god except I had never seen one with so many marking on his skin.

Barb squealed somewhere else in the spa. I looked at the monitor to find her and Colin playing games in one of the Jacuzzis. I'd always wondered what it was about Colin that got all these girls and Raul to idolize him. God, I couldn't watch this ... it felt like watching my kid brother get it on ... like incest by voyeurism.

Hando had apparently also heard Barb squealing. He entered the Jacuzzi room, tugging Candy with him. He was mother naked. He also had an erection.

Crap, I muttered under my breath. This was beyond the pale. These four yo-yos were about to have an orgy in my Jacuzzi room? Things would get out of hand; with a man like Hando, you put him in a highly-charged sexual situation and he'd be uncontrollable and possibly vicious.

So I called Bud. Got his voice mail. Left him a message that I was at the spa and needed some help with a delicate situation. Since I did not want either Colin or my girls arrested, I was determined to not call the cops. Hando was another matter but he was a matter best handled by Bud White, is what I figured.

While I waited, I tried not to watch the security monitor. I tried not to witness what was happening there in that room not too far from me. 

But I did watch. Eventually, I turned off the sound. I could still hear the muted noises of the four of them but at least I wasn't hearing it as vividly as over the security network. I turned the sound off about the time that Hando took Barb's face in his hands as Colin was inside her. I doubt Colin wanted Hando to interfere in that one-on-one action. That must have been why Hando had done it. Why he shoved Barb's face over his groin, forcing her to fellate him.

I closed my eyes.

Muffled male voices making short, loud statements. 

I opened my eyes to find Colin shoving Hando's cock from Barb's mouth. I don't know what he said but I do know Hando backed off. I do know I hadn't honestly given Colin credit for even that much, to protect a girl he was with from Hando forcing something she didn't want. Not that I gave Colin that much pass on this ... he was having his own fun and games.

Hando rolled away and grabbed hold of Candy. Turned her so he could do it doggy style; she did not object.

I called Bud again. Still his voice mail. I remembered he said he'd be working; he probably turned his personal cell off if he got involved in something where he couldn't be interrupted or discovered.

At this point, I was past furious at what was taking place in my spa. I was convinced it would only get worse. But I refused to call the cops. I was also savvy enough to know that I couldn't confront them by myself. My options were limited. I decided to sit this one out and wait on one of two things to happen: for Bud to arrive to toss them out on their bare asses or for them to leave on their own after their hijinks were over. I just hoped nothing truly life-endangering happened while I was waiting.

What I never expected to happen was what did.

I had paced in my office, refusing to watch more on the monitors but intent on staying there in case it got bad enough I had to call the cops to save someone's life, though I seriously doubted it'd come to that. There came a time when I realized it was too quiet. I glanced at the monitors. The four other people in the spa were spread out in various stages of sexually spent stupor around the Jacuzzi's edges.

This time, when I called Bud's cell, I got him. I didn't tell him much, just that Hando and Colin had come in with a few of my staff ... that if Bud wasn't too busy, if he'd come over and help me deal with getting them out of there without further incident, I'd be grateful. He told me to stay put, that he was on his way.

I remember thanking him and feeling relief that soon I'd be able to tell these bozos off while Bud was present to assure they didn't try to retaliate against me. I remember hanging up the phone while mentally rehearsing me telling Hando to get his ass out of my spa and telling Colin what an absolute ass he was to have gone along with this and telling my girls they better learn to make wiser decisions about their bodies.

"So how'd ya like the show?" I heard a voice behind me say.

I turned to find Hando lounging in the doorway. He had his pants on, unzipped, as if caught in the act of dressing. He was looking at the security monitors. I glanced at them; I could see that the other three were still in the Jacuzzi room. I looked from the screens to where Hando was. His grin was more sneer than levity.

"I want you out of here. Now," I snapped at him.

"You sure? Maybe you want to experience me instead of just watching me. You're a good looking bint ... look like you could go more'n a few rounds ... I'd do you. Up to you if you let Colin come in sloppy seconds."

"Save it for someone who'd be impressed or intimidated."

He lurched from where he'd been leaning into the wall. He was before me so quickly that I could not react save taking a half step back. He had a hand at my throat. I slapped him, hard. I was all set to punch him but he caught my wrist and forced it behind my back. I kneed him and he cursed loud. He stumbled back, his free hand at his groin. His other hand never let go of my wrist. I clocked that in my adrenalin-fueled brain ... that he had to be in tremendous pain, out of breath, and yet he still held fast to my wrist.

I tried to peel his fingers from my wrist. I was going to punch in the 911 numbers on my phone if I could reach it. I never got the chance.

I never had to.

Someone else did it for me.

One second Hando's eyes had cleared to focus on me again, making my heart beat with the desire to flee and the will to stay and fight.

"Get out now while you have the chance. Get out before I do something worse to you," I said to him between gritted teeth, knowing I didn't stand a real chance when it came to mixing it up with him physically but that I'd sure as hell exact a heavy price from him if he went through with it.

The next second, someone had big hands on Hando's shoulders and was dragging him away from me ... and caught by surprise, Hando's eyes grew huge and round while his face contorted in absolute rage as he prepared to take on whoever had just dared to stop him.

It was Bud.

His face was grey. His lips were pressed into tight little lines. He tossed Hando across the room. Hando came at Bud, head down, fists up. Bud side stepped, punched down on Hando's back as it went past. Hando hit the floor with a thud and rolled into my desk, sending everything flying.

Before Hando could catch his breath, Bud was over him. He pressed one hand down on Hando's neck; the other grabbed his balls in a vise grip. I could tell when Bud squeezed because Hando yelled.

In a soft voice, Bud said, "You just got a lesson, punk. You mess with her, you're messing with me. Got me?"

"Got you," Hando choked out. "Get the fuck off me."

One last squeeze and then Bud released him. Hando lay there, panting, eyes shut.

"I want him out of here," I said to Bud. He nodded.

But before he could pick Hando up from the floor and toss him out, Colin stepped in. "We're going," he said, his voice terse, low.

"You're part of this?" Bud asked him.

"I clean up my own messes," Colin said. "I got this."

"Start cleaning up by helping Candy and Barb," I said to Colin. "And get this animal out of here. Colin, don't ever party here again. I don't care whose idea it was, you need to learn some manners."

There was something about the way Colin wouldn't look at me just then. A guilt he owned up to but an inability to think about the consequences. Which I knew about him so it didn't surprise me.

I hadn't realized how hard my heart was pounding until after Colin boosted Hando to his feet and helped him from my office. Not until Bud put a hand on my shoulder and asked if I was okay. I said yes. That was when I heard the pounding echoing in my ears.

Bud stuck around after he cleared the group out. I was sitting in one of the armchairs in my office. He found the bottle of Scotch in the bar I have in there. Poured us both a healthy slug. I took a long sip of it and felt it warm me from the inside out.

I don't know what will come of this incident. But I doubt Hando and I will ever be friends. And, like I told Bud, I think Hando's arrival in our midst is more than curious ... it feels ominous to me.

KAREN

When I saw him walk into the pub, I shivered, and not in a good way.  

He took a few seconds to register on the grey matter but when the fog dissipated, I said to myself, "I know this man."

How could he not fail to make an impression within three seconds of eyeballing him?  What kind of impression though, is the question to ask?

He looks meaner at first glance if that's possible.  It's not the vivid tattoos or anything about his appearance.  It's just an aura that emanates off him.  This is one man you don't want to cross or get on his bad side.

I know he's one of the boys, but still I have known men like Hando before.  They used to walk into the shop-- super tough guys spreading attitude and abuse--where I worked and I just had to point to the sex items and equipment they would predominantly be interested in.  I made as little conversation as I had to with them.  They always made me feel like I wasn't human, just entertainment.  So yeah, I had an instant bias that I had to face.

So I told myself sternly not to compare or pre-judge him as I haven't even introduced myself yet.  I really tried to put myself in his shoes.  He's just crossed.  He's probably bewildered by our world.  He's been torn away from his old life and mates.  He met with a violent death at the hands of his best friend.  He doesn't know a soul here.  All he knows is that he will cow people by the ferocious image he portrays.

Here's where my empathy falters.  He gets off on that.  He's used to scaring the pants off of both men as well as women.  Is it a combination of ego and control with him or is it something more?  Does the well inside him go any deeper?

Then I recall his film scenes with Davey and Bubs that completely throw me into another tailspin.  He's like a big brother with Bubs ordering him around one minute and then guiding and taking care of him in the next. 

I believe Davey was the only person he ever loved in his life.  His intense bonding showed when he dragged him off the stairs totally pissed out of his gourd and when he listened to him when their squat was being attacked. 

Well he can't be a complete sociopath then, can he?  There must be redeeming qualities in his nature, but I guess you have to dig deep about 100 miles underneath the hard outer crust.  Is he worth the effort?

Jeffrey warned me to be careful around him.  He knew better than to tell me to stay clear.   

I told him I would be on guard.  But, honestly, I think the young lads have more to be wary of than the women.

Already Colin, Johnny, Kim and even perpetually appealing and likeable Dominic seem to be under his spell.

What is about Hando that he attracts followers like a magnet?  Is he charismatic?  Hell, yes.  He's a natural leader.  I've seen him rough house with his little tribe of drinking buddies.  At times, he almost seems affectionate like a doting parent.  They hang off his every word.

Then he can turn on a dime making fun of Paul, calling women nasty names in general and giving the evil eye to everyone.  This is a man who has the capacity to be utterly ruthless, callous and vicious.

Does he also draw women into his web?  Yes.  I've witnessed that too.  Heaven help the woman who falls for him.  There is no way to tame the wild soul or savage beast that lurks inside Hando.

Does he do anything for me?  With one look, he can pierce right through all your defenses almost to the core.  I had a staring match with him one night.  He won but I was left oddly shaken and disturbed by how he made me feel. 

It wasn't at all like the hoods who invaded my previous place of employment.  There was something there that I couldn't pinpoint or fathom.  I had an inkling that he could almost persuade anyone to do his bidding.  I'm not talking sexual favors here either.

When he smiled at me, I knew he had just read my mind.  Then he winked as if to say, "You'd better hope I haven't set my eye on you."  

COLIN

Fucked up royally with Michele that night. Felt bad about that. She's a nice lady and a good friend. That's just so typical of me. The girls suggested we go and play hide the massage oil at the spa, Hando was all game for it, as you can imagine, and I just shrugged and let it happen, even though I knew Michele would freak if she knew we were using her place like a brothel. The intention was just to find a room and have a bit of nookie. Hando had to take it a stage further and make is a bloody orgy. Not that I'm complaining. Had a fucking great time...mostly.

I drove home after I kicked Hando out at his squat and gave it some thought. What was I doing hanging about with him? Lighting up, I drove slowly, arm on the open window. Hando was bad news even on a good day.

The thing is, I've known blokes like him all my life. Not Skins necessarily but troublemakers like Hando. Bullies. Gang leaders. Alpha males who posture and throw themselves about in other people's faces. Blokes who get their kicks humiliating the weak, corrupting the innocent and abusing women. They don't ever get to me because I'm not a follower or a leader, you see. I'm neither affected by them - nor ever going to challenge them for supremacy. I don't give a fuck about all that.  I'm a loner. I like to think of myself as an observer of life. Some would probably use a different term. That's their prerogative.

I'm not scared of that world Hando inhabits nor does it much interest me other than in passing. But I do understand it. Let's face it, to most people, I'm as much of a bottom feeder as Hando. Look at my record. Dodgy motor shop, handling stolen cars and parts, wheels for a bank robbery, killed three men, robbed a few banks myself...my charge sheet's probably longer than the Skin's. But I'm not the same. I've made mistakes because I am too lazy to do things the right way. I take the easy way out. But I know right from wrong. Midori was innocent. The Afghanis were not. She wasn't going to die for them.

Hando's a racist bastard of the worst kind. So are a lot of Australians, to be honest. My Dad hated Japs and by association any Asians. Like most people he was too ignorant to tell one from the other. Keep Australia White. Everyone was talking that where I grew up as a kid. But Dad had his life experiences and I had mine. His generation fought a war and many died in Jap camps. Who would blame him for hate? I wandered around Sydney and met a lot of people of every colour. Know what I learnt in my experience? There are fuckers in any race. And occasionally a decent person, but there aren't many out there. In any race.

Hando has his own reasons for why he thinks like he does. I'm not saying they're right. I'm just saying he has them. I suppose everyone has something that makes them the way they are. Ann asked me how I could hang with him when I'd once had a Japanese girlfriend. What's that got to do with shit? I don't love the whole Jap race. Her bloody husband shot me, for Christ's sake. He was a crazy Nip bastard. Maybe my Dad was right. Who knows?

I saw Hando that first night and he intrigued me. I've seen his film. He died. Like me. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him when he walked in. If he's just crossed, I can imagine what's going on in his mind, I'd thought. Not that he would let anyone know. But all the same, he's got to be feeling it, right? It nearly drove me over the edge. Why should he be any different inside? At least I was always a loner.  He was used to lording it over his whole little empire of thugs. He lost it all. Lost Davey, his friend who he loved. Saw his best friend kill him for the sake of the girl who had betrayed them all. Think of it from his point of view. She'd been a twisted bitch. He wasn't the only warped one in that threesome.

So he loses it all, dies and then wakes up in this limbo, displaced and alienated? A bloke like him is going to erect a solid wall of steel around him as a defence and become even more vicious, striking out at the world which has dealt him a further killer blow.

I can appreciate that. He's dangerous but I know this for sure. He'll be more dangerous if he's left on the outside prowling around like a wounded lion. He's one of us, like it or not. And men like Hando understand allegiances if they accept them. Strikes me he needs to be shown some support. Bit by bit then he might find his way forward. But even if he doesn't, if he comes to regard us as his people at least he won't shit in this nest. That's the way blokes like him operate. He might try and wrest control but it isn't going to happen. With guys like Maximus, Terry, Jack Aubrey, John Biebe, Zack Grant, Bud White for starters? Come on. They'll eat a posturing fool like Hando for breakfast if he tries it on. He's already got Thorne and White on his case. Not an enviable mistake to make for a newcomer.

So I gave him a job. He's on trial. But at least he is doing something useful and earning his keep. Surprise, surprise he's a good mechanic. Or maybe not so surprising. He's an intelligent bloke. You'd be surprised what he knows about. All sorts of shit. Reads all the time. Comes out with some real intellectual stuff. Haven't g a fucking clue what he's on about some of the time. But he can do a day's work and do it well. He's already started on at me to make a bit on the side. Stolen cars and the like. It's not like I haven't done it before. But I'm trying to go straight these days. Maybe I will, maybe I won't. We'll see.

Hando's targeted Paul already but he hasn't worked out yet that Jeff is his boyfriend. He thought it was Cullen Murphy. That made me laugh. Shows how little he really understands about people.

I got in between that straight off the bat when he started on O'Gallagher and I won't let him cause any trouble there. Paul might be a raving poofta but he's an okay bloke - and I respect Jeff a lot. He bailed me out at the start. I'd go along way for the pair of them.

Johnny and Dominic can bloody well look after themselves. If they can't keep their dicks in their pants, that's their look out. I'm not their big brother. Maloney is no fool though. He'll have a few beers and go home to his girl. He hasn't messed about. Ryan's softer underneath. Easier to goad. Felt sorry for him but he needs to learn the lesson and quick. Cheating on your girl? That's the game for losers. I should know. Lost enough good women through antics like that in the past. The quicker Ryan wises up the better.

Not sure what to make of Barret. He thinks he's bloody Donald Trump. He talks nothing but shit. One of these days I'm going to shove my fist down his throat. That'll shut him up.

But as drinking partners, they're alright. One of these nights, I'm going to get Hando alone and ask him about what happened. I think I can make him talk. You never know, maybe he can even make me open up. Now that'd be a laugh, wouldn't it?

Until then, we'll probably just hang out and cause trouble. Can't be bad. What red-blooded male's going to complain when he and his mates are called Sex Gods? That's what the spa girlz have been calling me and H. Not bad, hey?

Bloody wish I hadn't let Michele down though...she's a decent girl...and White will fucking kill us if we upset her again....story of my life. Someone's always after me for something...