Chaos Kings MC

by Linny Lawless

  “Yes… I didn’t know where to go that night and just started walking down the coastal highway. When they found me, I showed Sid the cash and told him I partied with a few Chaos Kings.”

  “And that’s why I saw you with them at the Crow Bar?”

  “Yes. And he saw you and Gunner too. He was still angry and I was still paying for what I’d done by running away.”

  “So, he took you out back and hurt you. I found you with your top and bra ripped open… “

  “He’s done worse.”

  His jaw ticked and he stared off again.

  “So, you lived in hell? I know, Sam…. I lived in hell too, a long time ago…”

  His brown eyes turned soft when he turned to look back at me. He leaned in and kissed me. It was not heated. But it still made my stomach flutter. It was soft; gentle. And it felt nice.

  The door is shut and I’m sitting on my bed. But I can hear him yelling at my mom.

  I hear a crash. Sounds like one of the plates of dinner she made for us tonight smashing against a wall and clattering in pieces to the floor.

  “God damn mother fuckin’ BURDEN you are. You AND that scrawny ass kid cryin’ and pissin’ his pants in that bedroom!” My father’s voice was deep and sounded like thunder.

  I hear my mom whimpering.

  “What good are you?”

  Father must have lost his job, again. Making it seem like it was mother’s fault. My fault…

  I woke up. Sam’s back nestled up against my chest. My arm wrapped around her. She was breathing steady. Sound asleep. I slowly turned over trying to stay quiet hoping not to wake her; slipping on my jeans and flannel shirt. I didn’t bother buttoning it up and slid my boots on before grabbing my smokes and heading outside to check on the bike.

  The sun was starting to rise. I lit a smoke and raked a hand through my bed head. I felt that nagging pain in the back of my throat again. That nagging pain that started so long ago… I could never get back to sleep when those memories invaded my dreams.

  How could I protect Sam if I couldn’t even protect my own mother? Sam had been through fuckin’ hell with those Hounds. She was so physically small; I was amazed she was even still alive. She was brave… She had the courage and the will to do what she needed to do to stay alive. I couldn’t picture someone like Mandi push through that kind of shit.

  I took another drag off my smoke, deep in thought, when I felt that familiar soft rub against my shin and then against my calf. I looked down. There it was. That cat. It started to come around about a month ago. One night, I was shit-faced taking shots of whiskey with Gunner and Wez. I was never going to admit it to the brothers, but I needed a minute to get some air or I was gonna hurl my lunch right in front of them. I remembered staggering over here. I rubbed my eyes until I saw stars behind my lids and felt that soft rub like the one currently against my shin. It just looked up at me and made that purring sound that I figured cats made. I never had any pets growing up. I didn’t know much about cats or dogs but I liked them.

  The cat must have been a stray and found its way to the trash dumpsters out back. It had a dull grey color with some black stripes. It looked like it had been living and fending for itself for a while. Its fur was matted everywhere and smelled like it rolled around in grease spots from the lot. I stared at it for a few minutes while it kept walking back and forth, rubbing its greasy fur on my lower leg. I blinked a few times and warned it to stop moving, or I was gonna blow chunks.

  It was back. This time I was sober, so I got a better look at it.

  It looked thin and would probably eat something.

  “Stay put.”

  I headed back into the clubhouse to the pantry. There was always a variety of canned food stashed there.

  Cats seemed to like fish in the cartoons I watched when I was a kid, so I grabbed the small can of tuna, opened it with a hand twist can opener and headed back outside. The cat was in the same spot where I left him, walking around in circles, making that purr noise. I knelt and set the can in front of it. It didn’t take the cat more than five seconds from looking at it, to smelling it and then chowing down.

  “Take it easy, bro. It’s all yours.”

  I headed back in, wanting to check on Sam, but I needed to rub one out first. I was hard as a rock when I stepped into the shower. I lathered my cock with soap, making it slippery. Gripping and stroking it, I pictured Sam. The image of her sweet tits arching up to me, her nipples as hard as beads, her pussy slick and wet. I gripped my cock tighter and stroked it fast. I started to use both hands, pumping it fast and hard. My head fell back, my heart racing, my breathing shaky. I suddenly exploded. My cum shot quick, hitting the tile wall.

  I brewed some coffee for Sam this time, remembering how she had done the same for me. She sat up on the bed, yawned and blinked her eyes a few times and then they locked on me. She had the cutest bed head I had ever seen on a chick. I leaned down, handing her a cup.

  “Didn’t want to wake you earlier. You were sleeping good.”

  She took a sip, closed her eyes and moaned.

  “Thank you. I did sleep good.”

  I sat down on the bed. She began to talk. To tell me things and I listened.

  It’s Monday morning and I’m at the shop with Gunner, starting our weekly shift towing service calls.

  “She’s lived with the Hounds a long time brother,” I told Gunner while I drove one of the flatbed tow trucks.

  “Well, she’s not now,” he replied.

  “And I’m keepin’ it that way.”

  “She’s done a hell of a job around the clubhouse. She’s a little on the quiet side, but I can understand that.”

  Gunner looked over at me and smirked, “I can tell you have a soft spot for her, Ratchet. What do you call her? Little Rabbit?”

  “Yeah. That’s because she scampered away like a rabbit at Buckhorns that night at Bike Week.”

  Gunner lived in the basement at my house. He was like a brother from another mother. He sponsored me when I was probate for the Chaos Kings. I rode for years and knew a lot of local clubs, some legit, and some diamond clubs. I was a hang-around a little while first before Gunner approached me. He served two tours in Iraq, came back a war veteran and we just clicked.

  “I’m gonna talk to Sam about movin’ her into my place. I know Chaos is not at all like those filthy fuckin’ Hounds, but just get her to my place, help her get grounded and on her feet.”

  “Good idea, brother. A girl like that deserves a fresh start,” he agreed and my mind was set.

  A sunny and chilly morning and Ratchet wanted me to ride with him, Gunner, Wez to the mountains. We started out early morning. The temperature rose as the sun got higher spreading its warmth on the budding trees and all things growing green for the summer. As I held on to Ratchet, I closed my eyes and smelled the fresh morning air and listened to the roar of the pipes. The vibration was felt from my ass, down to my thighs. Ratchet’s huge warm palm and fingers wrapped around the bottom of my left thigh. That liquid warmth and fluttering in my stomach started up again inside me. He squeezed just a little. I squeezed him back with both thighs against his hips.

  We rode into the small town of Front Royal. The town had a long history dating back to the late 1700’s. Naturally situated in and surrounded by the Shenandoah Mountains many called it ‘Hell Town’ where rugged men lived and worked and were less than law-abiding. They drank and got into brawls.

  We pulled into the tiny parking lot of the Knotty Pine, the diner and bar Ratchet took me for breakfast. The four of us took a seat at one of the booths inside. Ratchet slid into the booth right next to me; so close that our thighs touched. He raised his arm over and laid it on the back of the booth behind me. He turned to me and winked, His brown eyes were so warm and kind, with a hint of heated want.

  Gunner and Wez slid into the booth across from us. I knew Gunner some, but this was the first time I met their other Chaos brother, Wez. His real name was Devon, but his club called hi
m Wez from the villain in the movie ‘Road Warrior’. He wore his hair in a mohawk cut. Both arms were full sleeves of tattoos, including some detailed designs on his neck. Not surprising as he was an ink artist himself and did all the work on the Prez’s ol’ lady, Madge.

  “Wez, show Sam that thing you do,” Ratchet said, with a nod to me.

  Wez’s eyes got round like saucers. He pointed his finger at me and then growled, “You! You can run…. but you can’t hide!” He froze with that threatening look, then broke out into a grin and started to chuckle.

  We all ordered huge plates of breakfast and dug in.

  “When we get back to the clubhouse, there’s something I wanna bounce something off you, Sam,” Ratchet whispered in my ear as I bit a fork full of scrambled eggs.

  I stopped chewing. A flush of warmth crept up from my chest to my neck. What did he want to talk about? I wasn’t going to share anymore with him about my time spent with the Hell Hounds. But I feared that my time was up at the clubhouse. I’d paid my debt to him.

  The tab was paid. We got to the bikes, grabbed our helmets and shades off the handlebars and strapped them on.

  “Sam, get on Gunner’s bike and go with him,” Ratchet said low to me and that’s when I heard them.

  The rumbling sound of pipes coming around the corner. Tweek and Rusty saw me. I strapped on my helmet and Gunner was already waiting for me to hop on the back of his bike. He was just starting his ignition as Rusty yelled out to Ratchet the moment they came to a stop only a few yards from us.

  “Hey, Chaos. That piece of sheep tail doesn’t fuckin’ belong to you.”

  Ratchet walked toward them but turned back to us, “Go. Now.”

  Gunner had already released the clutch and we were out of the lot, Wez following close behind.

  I was numb with fear riding with Gunner out of town. I feared for Ratchet. I knew the Hell Hounds and how they handled things. With verbal threats and physical violence. Ratchet was alone. Gunner and Wez were with me. They should have been with him.

  We didn’t go back to the clubhouse. They rode me down a secluded gravel road instead. We came to a clearing and there stood a single two-story house surrounded by trees.

  “This is Ratchet’s house. I live here too. In the basement. He was going to ask you today if you wanted to shack up here for a while. He thinks you might feel more comfortable here. Get you out of the clubhouse for a change… a good change…” Gunner steadied the bike as I got off.

  Ratchet wanted me to stay here? At his house? My jaw dropped as I stared at the massive house with the white siding and brown shutters, all the trees surrounding us.

  “I’ll show you around… Me and Wez got a text from Ratchet. He’s on his way here. He’s ok, Sam.”

  “Yeah, I’m not leavin’ till I see him for myself, brother. In one piece.”

  Wez stomped up the stairs to the front door ahead of us.

  “It’s my fault. I should have just gone with them. I caused all this. Now the Hell Hounds know I’m here with Chaos. They won’t stop.”

  My heart was heavy and I started to shake. The dread. The fear. Swallowing me.

  “You don’t belong to them, Sam. Ratchet made that decision the night he brought you back to the clubhouse when those fuckers did what they did to you. Ratchet had a sadistic pig for a father. He was abused as a kid. Also watched his father beat his mother every other fuckin’ week. Still feels like it’s his fault and blames himself for what happened to her.”

  What happened to her?

  I followed Gunner into the house and he showed me around. My mouth dropped open, taking in everything. Several bedrooms, huge living room and a cozy kitchen. Not too much home décor, but that’s expected from two straight men living together. Two bikers for that matter. It was clean, considering, what I loved most was Ratchet’s bedroom. The master bedroom with a king-size bed. Just two nightstands, some clothes scattered on the floor and a master bathroom, with a nice tiled shower that had glass doors.

  I sat cross-legged on Ratchet’s couch in the living room with Gunner and Wez. I fidgeted and watched the clock on the flat screen TV. Gunner took a few swigs from a whiskey bottle from the kitchen and passed it to Wez. Gunner scowled and kept tapping his foot. Wez kept getting up off the couch and pacing back and forth in front of me. I couldn’t move. I focused on that clock. My mouth was dry. My throat hurt. I imagined horrible things Tweek and Rusty could and would do to Ratchet. And how I would never forgive myself if something happened to him… and for putting him and his brothers of Chaos Kings MC in the crosshairs of the Hell Hounds.

  I jumped at the sound of the front door opening. Ratchet. In one piece. Before he could shut the door, I was already off the couch; both my arms wrapped around his shoulders and I held on. Tight.

  “Whoa, Little Rabbit. I’m ok,” his voice was deep and low against my ear.

  I leaned back from his shoulder to look at him. His lip was bleeding. Rusty hit him. I was sure of it.

  I let go and touched his cheek, “I’m so sorry… Sorry for dragging you into this.”

  He tilted his head. The side of his mouth lifted into a smirk. His eyes. His mouth. So male.

  “You didn’t drag me into anything, Sam. I made this my business. You are my business….”

  He leaned down and kissed me quickly, softly. I tasted the blood from the cut on his lip.

  “I’m sure Gunner gave you the tour of the bachelor pad. Go on upstairs to my bedroom, Sam. I’m gonna talk to my brothers for a bit and I’ll meet you up there.”

  I sat on his bed and waited. Relief sunk in just a little and some of the tension eased off as well. I heard Ratchet’s voice as he talked to Gunner and Wez.

  Then his booted footsteps were heard coming up the stairs. He entered the room and I was off the bed to meet him halfway. I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face into his hard bicep. I breathed him in. Leather, sweat, cigarettes, wind. Ratchet. His familiar scent so comforting. I heard him inhale against my hair.

  “Mmmm.. You always smell like sweet things, Sam… Not sure if its strawberries, but I like it.”

  He lifted my chin. I saw the bloody cut on his lower lip.

  “Yeah. Rusty landed one punch,” his tongue darted out to sweep along his lower lip. “That’s all he got in. They were gone once someone called the law. I planned on bouncing the idea of having you stay here at my place instead of the clubhouse. But I guess we don’t need to have that talk now, do we, Sam.”

  He bent down and kissed me again when I smiled up at him. I felt his grip on my hair as he slid his tongue into my mouth. Both our tongues flicked and mingled with the metallic taste of his blood.

  I didn’t want to let him go.

  “I know you’ve had to survive through some really fucked up shit. I’m trying to be as gentle as I can with you, Sam. But sometimes, like right fuckin’ now, I don’t think I can… I don’t think I ever can.”

  He released me, pulled his cut off and lay it on the bed and walked into his bathroom. I heard the shower come on and a few seconds of rustling to remove his clothes and boots. When I listen to the shower door close, I made my way in there. His back was turned to me; his head leaned back as the water sprayed his face. I stood there for a few seconds, admiring his broad shoulders and a wide back that tapered to a sculptured ass and thighs as thick as trees.

  I began to take off my clothes. He didn’t hear me until I stepped into the shower behind him. He turned around to face me. His lips were pressed tight together and his brow was set in a deep scowl. He reached up and raked his fingers to push away my soaked hair. Then he fisted his strong hand in my hair. His grip pulled my head back tilting to stare into his eyes.

  “You’re mine, Sam. You belong me,” he growled low, but then suddenly let go.

  “Turn around,” he commanded.

  I turned away from him. His hand pressed against my back, pushing me to bend over. I braced both hands against the tiled wall. The warm water splashed my back
and my ass. I wanted to show myself to him. I widened my stance, stood on the tips of my toes and arched my back. I heard his deep moan and he seized my hip with one hand. He glided a finger in between my center, as his thumb rubbed my other tight hole.

  “I want you, Sam. I want to mark you as mine.”

  I lost my voice. I was breathing hard and fast. I did want him to make me his and his only.

  “Tell me. Sam. Tell me what you want.”

  “Yes... I want you,” I answered, breathless.

  “You want me to what, Sam?”

  “I want you to fuck me, Ratchet. Please…”

  He gripped my hips and braced his thick head up against my slippery opening.

  “I’ll give you as much of me as you can handle.”

  He slid into me slowly. He was so thick and heavy I was being stretched. But I wanted all of him.

  “Fuck, Sam. Your pussy is so tight. Can you take more?” he gritted his teeth; voice strained.

  “Yes, James. I need all of you!”

  Slowly his thickness invaded me; stretched me. My walls wrapped around him so tightly. I gasped and keened. I was fully impaled. He moved his hips and withdrew slowly and slid all the way back inside of me. His pace was slow at first and I moaned feeling the incredible sensations he caressed deep inside me. I cried out when he grabbed a fistful of my wet hair and pulled.

  His breathing was ragged and picked up speed with rhythm to his thrusts. His hips were smacking up against me, slapping sounds echoed off the tiled walls. I had to brace myself and splayed my hands on the wall as he drove into me faster, harder.

  “You. Belong. To. Me!” he growled in beat with his ruthless thrusts.

  “Yes, James!”

  “Get ready, Rabbit. I’m going to fill you up. Right fuckin’ now!” he roared as his liquid heat exploded deep inside me.

  Our hearts raced, the shower spraying both of us. His hands came around and he pulled me up against his heaving chest. We stood frozen like this a moment. Our breathing was settling back to a normal pace. His lips and bearded cheek nuzzled my ear.