Chaos Kings MC

by Linny Lawless

  “You’re leaving with Gunner and me,” his voice was sharp and clipped.

  I looked up at him, trying so hard to calm my racing heart. My throat ached to prevent the tears from coming.

  “No, Ratchet, I’m staying here. I don’t belong with you, there’s nothing you can do. Nothing you should do. Just let me be, I belong here.”

  “No, Sam! Fuck! Not doin’ it.”

  I jerked myself out of his grasp. My hand shot out and I slapped him across the cheek. The loud music muted the sound of the slap, but we both felt it. His eyes became hard when he turned to face me again.

  My voice came out loud and clear, “Just go away, Ratchet! I’m not a fucking charity case! Yeah, we fucked and all that. But I like to fuck! A lot! That’s what I do. It was fun, but I’ll make more money with the Hounds, better than working at some boring as fuck ass bookstore!”

  The next thing I said was like a knife stab right to his heart.

  “I know your mother didn’t like that fuck-fest with your father’s club. But she wasn’t a club whore like me. Whores love to be passed around, that’s just what whores like me do.”

  “I don’t believe you, Sam. I know what you’re doing and you’re still leaving here with me. Now.”

  “No. The little lamb is staying right here, Chaos King”.

  Vik appeared, the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of Ratchet’s head.

  Gunner’s revolver was already out, aimed at the back of Vik’s head, “He goes down? You go down.”

  Sid started to chuckle. Ratchet closed his eyes and raised his arms.

  “Ok,” when he opened his eyes, they were filled with so much pain, “I’m leaving Sam. If you run again, I’ll be there to catch you.”

  He crushed me up against him and roughly claimed my lips, invading my mouth with his tongue.

  He released me, defeat in his eyes. Vik lowered his gun.

  Ratchet turned, walking away from me, “let’s go, Brother.”

  Gunner’s gun was shoved back into the front of his jeans. He followed, then they were gone.

  It started to rain as we left her there. My throttle wide open, Gunner close behind. The rain splattered our faces like stinging needles. The ache in the back of my throat was in high gear. My jaw clenched tight, twitching with the pressure. I failed to save my mother, now I failed to protect Sam. My father was right, I was weak, a pussy, just like he said. Images of my mother invaded my mind as I rode. Images of my father’s club members. The sound of my mother’s cries from behind the bedroom door. The memory of the sharp pain against the back of my skull.

  My mind shifted to images of Sam laying on the asphalt beside the dumpsters. Visions of Sid and the Hounds hurting her; violating her.

  A roar of defeat and anger came from my clenched jaw as I gripped the throttle, picking up more speed as we headed to the clubhouse.

  The beam of my headlight spotted a wet grey thing on the gravel beside the road as I turned into the clubhouse lot. I parked, kick the stand down and walked back toward the damp grey thing. I knew it before I came upon it. But didn’t want to believe it. Laying on his side, drenched entirely, half submerged in rainwater was the cat, Nomad. He must have been struck by a car as he walked across the road.

  I went into the clubhouse and grabbed a shovel. I went back and picked up Nomad, carrying his already stiff body in the crook of my arm. I stopped by the tree line next to the asphalt lot laying him down and struck the wet ground with the shovel and started digging.

  The heavy rain soaked through my hair, beard and clothes but I kept shoveling.

  “Ratchet!” It was Gunner. “What are you doing, Brother?”

  “Gotta bury him.”

  “Who’s him?”

  I nodded toward the soaked little grey body next to the hole I was digging. I stopped and leaned on the shovel.

  “He came around a few times. Liked to rub up on my leg, so I fed him. He was a loner, just livin’. He took a liking to Sam the other morning too, we named him Nomad.”

  Gunner was silent, he just stood there with me, drenched as much as I was. I dropped the shovel and pressed my palms into my eye sockets until I saw little stars behind my lids.

  “I’m a total fuckin’ failure, Gunner and a dumb ass too. Thinkin’ I could protect Sam, save her, I couldn’t even save my mother,” my voice cracked.

  “Not your fault, Ratchet! You did the best for your mother. She did her best for you.”

  Gunner reached out and grabbed a fist full of my cut, pulling me to him.

  “You better fuckin’ cut the crap, Asshole. You’re the best thing that ever happened to that girl, you helped her get out of her shell. You pushed her to go into that store and apply for that job. The club likes her. Tanya and her are becoming good friends. We just have to deal with all that giggling and chatting like all chicks do I guess. Your girl is brave, she’s protecting you and Chaos. That’s why she said those things.”

  “Well, it didn’t do any good… The only way I can get her out is to go back. I will kill to get her out of there, bullets will fly next time and the damage will land me in prison or in the ground.”

  “And then where does that leave Sam? The Chaos Kings? Your tribe? All that blowback will hit us.”

  “Well, I’m not left with many options, Brother. We’re dealing with a diamond club. That’s how things go down with that kind. You get your hands dirty - or bloody.”

  “Sid is a scum bag. He’s weak. That’s why he preys on Sam and anyone else he can. He likes to wag his dick and brag he’s got the biggest in his pack of fuckin’ dogs. And I’d bet he’d get a stiffy if he were offered a nice amount of cash to trade for Sam. I bet he would bite at that.”

  Ratchet and Gunner were gone. My mouth became dry as a desert. I had to fight back the tears again.

  Slow clapping. Sid, Hammer, Rusty, Vik. Clapping.

  “Didn’t know you had it in you, Little Lamb,” Sid praised as he approached me.

  I walked to the other end of the bar where the dark-haired Hound sat finishing off his drink. I opened my parched mouth, “I never got your name…”

  He slammed his small empty glass back on the bar, “It’s Skully. Pour me another. Jack. Neat.”

  As I took his glass, Sid’s father, Knuck walked through the front door; the President of the Hell Hounds MC. Sid had his father’s tall, slender build, except his father had a few extra pounds of muscle due to all the weightlifting behind bars.

  He walked up next to Skully, grinning at me.

  “Prez…”

  “Enjoy the pussy show, Skully. Then meet with Tweek when he gets his twitchin’ ass here.”

  “Sure, Prez.”

  He turned back to me with the same piercing gaze as his son’s.

  “Well, well, well… Had to stop in to see it for myself. Good you came to your senses, girl. Sid needs to beat some sense into you, teach you a lesson. Don’t try and pull that stupid bullshit again.”

  “Sorry, Knuck. Won’t happen again.”

  “Now get me a shot of top-shelf whiskey with something cold back there.”

  Sid rose from his chair as his father approached him. Knuck backhanded him. Hard. The music was too loud, but I jumped when Sid’s head snapped to his left. Knuck wore large gold and silver rings on all four fingers and they left the side of Sid’s mouth bleeding. He reached up and wiped the blood onto his balled-up fist.

  “Can’t fuckin’ keep the assets in working order, son. You ain’t President yet. Better fuckin’ shape up or I’ll rip that VP patch right off that fuckin’ cut.”

  Knuck looked around. Skully, Rusty, Hammer.

  “Who knows. One of these other dip-shits could do a better fuckin’ job.”

  “Ain’t gonna happen again, Knuck.”

  Knuck didn’t even come back to the bar to get his shot and beer that I poured for him. He turned his back to Sid and left the club, leaving Sid standing there in silence. He realized everyone was looking at him, even the music had
stopped and the girls in the cages stopped dancing.

  “What the fuck is everyone lookin’ at?” he barked. The DJ started the music again and the women continued dancing, pretending what they saw didn’t happen.

  Sid marched toward me. I back up against the shelves of liquor bottles, my adrenalin suddenly pumping through me, the fight or flight mode kicking in.

  He lifted the bar latch and fisted a chunk of my hair and pulled me toward him.

  “Come with me, Whore.”

  I followed him as he kept a tight grip on my hair and walked me down the hall to one of the private rooms before shoving me inside and shutting the door behind him. I turned to him. My instinct was to run at him or through him to get to the door.

  But I stood there frozen, lifted my chin and looked right at him.

  “Whatever you do to me right now, Sid you have already done before. So, what’s it gonna be? A blowjob? Pass me around to your other Hounds? Sneak some drugs in for one of your other Hounds in jail? Pimp me out for a few days?”

  His jaw was set. He came at me, grabbed both my arms, pushing me down to my knees. He started to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans.

  “For starters, suck my dick you fucking slut!”

  He reached and grabbed the back of my head and shoved himself into my mouth. He was barely hard.

  He thrust into my mouth, his fist in my hair and dared me to pull back. I didn’t. He was out of my mouth and pushed me back. I went back and landed on my right elbow.

  “You can’t even get my dick hard. You’re just a waste of my time,” he growled at me, his breathing fast.

  He pulled me up to him and backhanded me just as hard as Knuck did to him. I landed back on the floor. Head spinning and ears ringing.

  “Making me look like a faggot in front of my club? In front of the Knuck? Running off with that mother fuckin’ Chaos?”

  I pushed myself up and heard my own voice again.

  “They call him, Ratchet. And he’s a bigger man than you are, Sid. He doesn’t have to beat women to get his dick hard. He doesn’t have to prove himself to anyone. Least of all you.”

  “Bitch!”

  Another backhand and my cheek landed on the floor this time. I didn’t move. Sid stormed out the door and slammed it shut.

  And that’s when I could let the tears spring free, my body convulsed and I wailed. Thankful no one could hear me over the pounding music outside that door.

  Gunner made calls to Rocky, Spider, Magnet and Wez. Within a half hour, all club members were pulling in to the clubhouse. The steady rain turned into a cold mist.

  They met Gunner and me at the bar inside. I already had two shots of tequila. Mud covered our boots and legs from digging the wet ground to bury Nomad.

  I told my brothers what happened with Sam and that I was going to pay Sid to get her back; that I needed them now to keep watch and safeguard the clubhouse once this meet was done and I got her back there safe. No way to trust the Hell Hounds, I had to be one step ahead. They would take my money then kill me and Sam.

  Early the next morning I pulled into the lot of the Hell Hounds clubhouse. It was a rundown, rusted out warehouse, in poor shape. A huge flat piece of sheet metal hung over the side door entrance, displaying the Hell Hounds center patch, a black dog with three heads, teeth bared and snarling. “Hell Hounds” was printed on top of the image, “Motorcycle Club” on the bottom.

  I rode up toward the side entrance, pulled the clutch in then planted my feet. The Hound they called Skully leaned up against the rusted wall outside, smoking a cigarette. He was looking at me waiting. I let out the clutch and pulled up next to him.

  “Skully?”

  He flicked his smoke, “Yeah.”

  I dug out the folded piece of paper from my cut’s side pocket and extended out it to him, “It’s my number. Give it to Sid. Have a proposition for him.”

  He took the folded paper from me. I twisted the throttle, made a wide turn in the lot and left. Dangling a sweet amount of cash in front of Sid would have him frothing at the mouth. And he would be top dog in his club.

  I left Sam at the Steel Cage and rode back to the clubhouse. My blood was boiling over with anger. I needed to put a few bruises on soft female flesh. I walked into the clubhouse pulling one of the club whores off a bar stool and brought her into a bedroom that I played in many times with Sam and other whores.

  This one was a redhead, really skinny but she had heavy tits that I pinched, slapped and pulled. She cried out at times. The sight of red blemishes appearing on her huge tits got me hard. She sucked me off and gagged as my hard thrusts pounded her mouth. I pulled out and shot my load all over her face. She wiped her face off with her own t-shirt. Pulling out a joint, she lit it and passed it to me. We both fell asleep on the creaky mattress.

  I woke up to a wet warm mouth sucking me. I pulled her from me, my half hard cock slipping out of her mouth.

  “Not in the mood now. Get the fuck out.”

  She left the bed and pulled on her cut off jean shorts. Her t-shirt was stained and crusted with my cum from the night before. She wiped her mouth, slipped her flip flops back on and left the room.

  I sat up and lit a smoke. Three knocks on the door sounded.

  “Fuck! What!”

  Skully opened the door and stepped in.

  “What’s up, Skully.”

  “That Chaos just showed up here. Wanted you to have this.”

  I opened the folded piece of paper Skully handed to me, a 10-digit number to Ratchet’s phone.

  “Goddammit, Skully, that’s it?”

  “He said he had a proposition for you.”

  “He does, huh?... That fucker has got some balls coming here.”

  “I’m heading back over to the Cage. Meetin’ up with Tweek.”

  A number lit up on my phone. I knew it would be Sid. I answered on the second ring.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll give you one minute; then I gotta go back and shove my dick up that little whore’s ass.”

  Silence on my end. I had to breathe through the rage. Calm the pounding in my head and ignore that ache in the back of my throat.

  “I’ll pay you. For her. Name the price.”

  “Whoa! You’d buy her? Why the fuck you want that used up gash?”

  “How much, Sid?”

  Silence. Sid was nibbling on it. His dick was getting hard.

  “Twenty-five.”

  “When?”

  “Midnight. My clubhouse. Just you, Chaos.”

  “Deal.”

  I hung up. I already had twenty-five grand in cash. Wanted him to foam at the mouth over it. And hope that he wouldn’t hurt Sam before I got her back. Leaving her there at the Steel Cage among the Hounds was the second time in my life that I would carry that heavy weight of guilt. It was tearing me up inside.

  Sid kept me in the private room for the rest of the night and into the next morning. One of the dancers came in a few times to check on me. She gave me some ice in a plastic bag for my swollen lip. She showed a bit of empathy in her eyes. I was exhausted and slept on a black worn out leather couch with the blanket and pillow she gave me, the only acts of kindness I received that day.

  I woke up touching the side of my cheek and wincing at the pain. It probably colored overnight to a shade of purple or blue.

  Three knocks on the door.

  “It’s Skully. Brought you somethin’ to eat.” He walked in holding a brown paper bag and placed it on the couch next to me, “couple of donuts and a bottle of water.”

  I sat up on the couch and opened the bag.

  “Thank you.”

  He didn’t acknowledge me. His eyes moved to the floor searching for something. Then his eyes roamed over me.

  “You wearing your jeans?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Take them off under that blanket and give them to me.”

  Any of the Hounds could do what they wanted with me. I had to fend for myself.

 
; “Not what you’re thinkin’. I’m not here for that. Do you want Sid to come in and take ’em off you? Just give them to me.”

  He never touched or said anything nasty to me. I did as he said and wiggled myself out them and then handed them over.

  He held them up examining them, “It shouldn’t be that fuckin’ complicated.” He took out his pocket knife, switched it open and began tearing into the pant legs.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making you a pair of ass-cheek cut-offs. Hold on. Never done this before.”

  He finished the one pant leg, cutting them off right below the back pocket and continued with the second one. When the last of the material fell to the floor, he held them up again.

  “This should work. Put ‘em back on. I’ll get one of the girls to find you a top to wear.”

  My ripped-up jeans landed in my lap. Skully left me alone and I brought them under the blanket and wiggled myself back into them. I reached into the brown bag and devoured the donuts and finished the whole bottle of water.

  Later the same girl from the night before came in and gave me a couple of tank tops to try on. I chose the leopard print and put on a pair of black wedge slip-on sandals. Along with my newly cut-off jeans, I looked the part of a club whore who worked at the strip club.

  She also gave me a few things to freshen myself up with in the bathroom.

  It was noon and I worked the bar. Three women started their first cage dances. Sid was sitting with Rusty and Skully at one of the small tables by the main stage. Sid looked smug, relaxed, taking another long drag off his smoke, talking to the two other Hounds at his table.

  Three men appeared from the darkness of the front entrance into the disco colored light beams and black lights. They were huge, as wide as Ratchet, only they had very short haircuts and wore expensive looking designer suits. One had a fat cigar that he gripped between his teeth and nestled to the side of his mouth.

  They took a seat at one of the semi-circle red velvet booths, their backs faced the back of the club. They watched the women dancing in the cages in the far corners.