Categories > Books > Outsiders

With The Lights Out It’s Less Dangerous

by Hippie 0 reviews

Angela knows the only way to wind up her brother, is to get to his rival. ONESHOT.

Category: Outsiders - Rating: R - Genres: Drama,Romance - Warnings: [X] - Published: 2008-06-09 - Updated: 2008-06-09 - 1838 words - Complete


Angela screamed.

It was times like this she really hated her older brother. He always had to poke his nose into her business, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was scaring off all the good looking boys. Placing her hands on her hips, and twisting up her mouth, she let out another string of curse words.

“Watch your language,” Tim growled. He was perched on the kitchen counter, body inclined forward as he stared at her jadedly. He held his pocket-knife in one hand, tracing his scar with the tip of the blade.

“Fuck you,” Angela replied waspishly. “You ain’t the boss of me, I can say what I want, and date whoever I want.”

Tim let out another growl. Angela could see the fine lines of strain showing around his eyes, the way they always did when he had to deal with her or Curly’s antics. Sometimes when she saw the stress, she’d feel sorry for him and back down, but today wasn’t one of those times.

“I’m older than you, and I know which boys are trouble,” Tim said, tilting the blade, so it was pointing toward her. “LaChance is trouble.”

“He is not!” Angela shrieked. How many times had she heard this before? If it had been up to her brothers, she would have had a chastity belt welded on, years ago. “Tony’s better than those assholes you hang around with.”

Tim frowned, when Angela had made up her mind there was no changing it. She was as stubborn as they could come.


“Even if he is, you didn’t have to drag me away in front of all my friends.” Her curls bounced as she shrieked at him. “It was so embarrassing!”

With that she grabbed her purse and stalked out the door – not forgetting to slam it, to make her statement. Even with heels on, she had managed to march out of the door, without flaw. Tim rubbed his temple, where he could feel a headache coming on.


Dallas finished off his second beer and ordered another. Bringing the bottle up to his lips, he watched the barmaid behind the counter as she bent down to retrieve something from the bottom shelf. The broad had a nice ass. His groin ached. He had picked a fine time to break up with Sylvia ... The bitch couldn't keep her legs closed anymore than he could keep his pants up. They made a fine pair. The barmaid turned around when Buck called her, to show him the smallest rack he’d ever seen; her face had needed work too, more make-up wouldn’t have hurt either.

“Hey Buck,” he said, not bothering to even look at the cowboy. “When are you going to hire some good lookin’ broads?”

Leaning against the wall behind the counter Buck shook his head, as the barmaid glared in his direction. He laughed and took another swig of his beer.

“I’ll tell you what,” Buck negotiated. “You pay off that tab you’re runnin’ and I’ll hire someone else.”

“Or I can keep my tab and you can hire someone else, anyway.”

Buck shook his head again, and retreated into the back room. Dallas laughed again. It was still early and he was on his third beer, tomorrow morning wasn't going to be pretty.

There was a sound of shattering glass behind him, followed by laughing and whooping. He could here one of the voices distinctively. Curly Shepard. He didn't know how Tim could stand having, that dumb fuck as a brother. Dallas shook his head, thankful his folks didn't bother having anymore kids.

"Shepard!" Buck yelled, stalking out of the backroom, his face beet red. "You break one more thing, you're outta here, you dig?"

"You sure told him," Dallas grunted.

"Shut up, Winston," Buck retorted, then averted attention to the door. "Oh great, another one."

Dallas inclined his head, to see Angela Shepard standing at the door, with the sourest expression. She glanced at Curly, rolling her eyes, and then made her way over to an empty stool on the bar.

She ordered, a scotch, straight up. Dallas grinned to himself when he heard her voice. It was husky and feminine. Either she was a heavy smoker or she had done her fair share of screaming today. Knowing Angela Shepard, full well, it probably was both those reasons. He'd heard her screeching at her brothers, a one too many times, to make him glad enough he didn't have a sister.

But damn... The girl had a nice ass, pouting lips and a rack that would give Annette Funicello a run for her money. Her gaze slid to him briefly, before she returned to her drink.


Angela could feel Dallas Winston's gaze on her. She knew why he was looking at her, she'd seen tons of guys look at her that way before. Many of them had ended up the victim's of Tim and Curly's fist.

Dallas wasn't particularly attractive, but she could see why girls and Sylvia were so into him. He was bad, and he had a wild and animalistic quality, that made him appealing. Tim would have a hernia if she ever touched him. Suddenly it hit her like thunderbolt. Angela smiled maliciously. Payback, big brother.

"See something you like?" She asked playfully, turning around on her stool to face Dallas.

He cocked his eyebrow at her, then smiled dangerously. Behind the bar she could hear Buck mutter a few incoherent words, as he shook his head. Angela ignored him and she downed her drink in one shot.

"I'll have an Amaretto Sour," she said to Buck, not taking her eyes off Dallas.

"A little full of yourself, ain't you kid?" Dallas said, taking a sip of his beer.

"In case you haven't noticed, I ain't a kid," she replied, as Buck set down her drink.

"You don't look fully developed to me," he said, lying through his teeth.

"Really?" She asked, picking up the cherry in her drink, and teasing it with her tongue. She could see Dallas' eyes fixed on her mouth. Her own gaze lowered down a little lower, to see a bulge in his jeans.

"You're a tease."

"It looks like Dallas Jr. doesn't mind," she smiled, raising an eyebrow at his crotch.

"Fuck," he cursed.

Angela slid her gaze over Dallas' shoulder, to find Curly looking at her with a puzzled expression, which was nothing new when it came to him. She smiled wickedly and bought her hand up to Dallas' arm, and slowly caressed his skin.

She could see Curly's eyes grow big like saucers, he jumped up and marched his way toward where she was sitting. He stared sourly at Dallas.

"Get your hands off my sister Winston!"

"She's the one doin' the touchin'," Dallas smirked.

"I don't care, you stay away from her, or else!" Curly growled, bawling up his fists.

"Or else, what?" Dallas questioned, with a dangerous look in his eye. Angela's smiled faded, worrying abut what he might do to her brother.

"Curly," she said. "Mind your own business, I can take care of myself, I'm a big girl."

"You heard her Shepard; she's a big girl, fuck off," Dallas laughed.

Curly turned around, and stormed out of the bar. She knew where he was heading. It wouldn't be long till Tim got here. She smiled, finishing off her Amaretto Sour. Being a little sister wasn’t so bad, after all.

“You want another drink?” Dallas asked. “It’s on me.”


“Get her another drink,” he said to the barmaid. “And just put it on the tab.”


She didn’t know how she let Dallas convince her, into going up to one of the bedrooms – maybe the sixth drink had been too much – but there she was.

The room was dark, except for the rectangle of light that had come in through the window coming from the street light outside. The bed was covered in a blue spread, which had obvious stains on them. She scooted closer to the edge of the bed as Dallas kissed her. He pushed her back, and she shifted forward again.

“Changing your mind?” He growled against her lips. She pulled away.

“The bed has stains.”

“Either that or the floor,” he replied. Angela looked at the floor and scowled. A wave of dizziness rushed over her, causing her to sway back. Dallas, mistaking her dizziness for choosing the bed over the floor, pinned her down and leaned on top of her. She was starting to wish she hadn't agreed to the free booze.

"You broads, have some fucked up underwear," he muttered, as he lifted her dress up.

Angela decided Dallas wasn't one for much foreplay, when his fingers where already searching for the hem of her underwear. They hadn't even made out much, heck he hadn't even tried to grope her breasts, like most guys did. When she had tried to take his shirt off, he had pushed her hands away and did it himself. He was impatient and wild.

He had yanked her underwear down before unbuckling his own belt. His jeans dropped down to his ankles, standing up he kicked them away along with his boots, and leaned over her again. She knew he couldn't wait any longer, he hadn't even bothered with her dress or bra before he entered her.

She dragged her nails against his back, and arched her own causing him to growl.

He didn't last long after that.


He was pulling on his shirt when the door burst open. Angela who had been sitting on the bed, jumped up immediately.

Tim stood at the door staring at them both, with nothing but pure wrath. His fists were clenched so tight, that his knuckles had gone white. The veins in his neck bulged as his face grew increasingly red. Behind him, Curly kept a safe distance from his brother, as he watched with curiosity and fear. The dumb punk could never back up his mouth.

To Dallas' surprise, Angela strode over to her brother, and smiled with her hands on her hips.

"Tony's not lookin' so bad now, is he?"

"There's a name for girls that do what you did," Tim said slowly, and dangerously. "Curly, take her home."

Angela's smile had faded instantly, not protesting once as Curly pushed her away.

"Your sister's talented. Real talented." Dallas smirked. It was stupid sure, but when was he going to get an opportunity like this, again?

He'd never regret what he did. But he did regret not anticipating the blade Tim would pull on him.

He'd slashed his chest up good and beaten the crap out of him, until Buck dared intervene and pull him off.

Dallas cursed as he sat in emergency hours later, as a nurse sewed up the cuts on his chest. He'd get Tim back, sooner or later, by slashing something of his.

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