by Tillie Cole
My hands gripped Mae around her waist and I shook in anger. A thirty-year-old man fucked an eight-year-old chick with some bear-trap contraption prying her innocent pussy open. Sick motherfucker. What kind of pervert does that shit to a kid? Sick motherfuckers, the lot of ’em.
“B-babe, you t-telling me y-you were r-r-raped at age eight?” I bit out.
“Yes,” she whispered. “And I ran into the forest afterward. I had to get away from it all. I had no idea what had happened. I didn’t even know what sex was before that day. We were kept separate from boys and men. We lived in separate buildings within the commune. It was quite the introduction to life with the opposite sex. I wanted to die, Styx. I was so sore, so ashamed.”
She swerved and ran her soft, shaking hand down my cheek. “And then I met you. You made me forget it all for a while. I was fascinated by you, entranced by your face; well, all of you—your dress, your beautiful hazel eyes. I had never seen an outsider before. We were instructed to believe that outsiders were evil, but when I saw you trying to communicate, trying to help me; you, instead, looked like my savior. You were my savior that day. I never once told anyone about you, but I thought of you all the time. I dreamt about you often. You were my assurance, my guarantee that beyond the rigid metal cell I had been trapped in, there was real hope. I watched you try to speak, the struggle you had. I was so confused by you.”
I coughed out a short laugh. “I b-bet. I c-couldn’t speak for shit b-back then. The only two people I-I’d ever uttered a word to were my ol-old man and Ky. But seeing you, curled up in that p-pilgrim dress and w-whimpering, forced me to talk. Y-your beautiful eyes d-drew me in.” Mae’s pouting red lips tugged into a shy smile. “Still do. B-been torture you sh-shutting me out like this for d-days.”
I had to ask the question burning in my mind. I just had to know. “You l-like R-Rider, Mae? You want h-him?”
She sat up, shocked, and her mouth dropped. “It is not like that! Rider is a good friend. He has never been anything but nice to me. He risked his life for me at the park, for goodness sake. He saved me, took a bullet to save my life. He understands how I was raised, Styx. I like him. He is a kind and honest man.”
“You t-told him ’bout your b-background?”
“No, I did not tell him! You now know most about me, Styx, but he understands the scripture I—we all—had to live by. Rider has lived by it too, I think. He helps me make sense of this outside world… this club… even you, your role as President, things you must do to protect your brothers.”
As she stroked my cheek, the bristles of my unshaven jaws scratched underneath her short nails. “You have to understand, Styx. Life out here, outside the commune, is so confusing for me. Half the time I have no clue what people are talking to me about. I just smile and nod, hoping they do not realize my confusion. I do not know all the modern devices that dominate your day-to-day life. I certainly do not understand the rules and the behavior of the men at this club. The way you speak to each other, to women, seems so wrong. It scares me at times. Rider understands my faith; no, my old faith. I do not know what I believe anymore or what to believe for that matter. Rider has not pushed me to be any different than I already am. He really did care for me when you were away, when you entrusted me to his care. I admit I do like him. Rider is my closest friend here in your world. I shall not give him up willingly, Styx. I… I need him.”
A great fuckin’ sinking feeling materialized in my stomach. I didn’t know shit about her, did I? I wasn’t sure I could deal with Mae being that close to Rider and sleeping in my bed. I was possessive and not into sharing. But I’d fuckin’ pushed them together. I wanted to shoot my own ass for being so goddamn stupid. Of course the brother would fall for Mae. She was fuckin’ perfect. The brother had clearly fallen hard, and shit, he was a better choice for her than me, that was for sure. Didn’t mean I was giving her up, though.
No. Fuckin’. Way.
Mae cleared her throat and her big blue eyes lifted up to meet mine. “I have only ever liked one boy in my life. I have only wanted one man to have as my own. I have only ever had one dream since I was eight. Styx, the dream is you. You stole my heart fifteen years ago and you still haven’t given it back.”
“B-babe,” I murmured, my heart fuckin’ slamming. Flattening my palms to her stomach, I ran them up and down her torso, smiling at her hitch in breath as my nose ran along her neck, my teeth scraping against the exposed skin.
Pressing my lips to her ear, I whispered, “I w-want you too. F-fuck, I want you in m-my bed, by my side, on m-my bike. I w-want you as m-my old lady. Taking c-care of me, n-needing me… letting me inside you.”
Her breath paused, but the release of a long, relieved sigh said it all.
Mae wanted that too.
As she laid her head in the crook between my shoulder and neck, she reached up around my head with her hand and played with the back of my hair. Damn. I actually felt happy. Despite all the shit threatening the club—the Russian deal, the shooting, Lois taking lead to her skull, and the Nazis gunning after me—I was happy. For the first time since my old man had gone to the boatman last year, I felt fuckin’ good.
Mae was mine. Fifteen long years of wanting her to be mine, and here she sat, curled up in my arms—a fuckin’ angel in hell.
“Styx?” Mae asked as I pulled her even closer.
“Mmm?” I murmured, licking around the shell of her ear, loving her tensing her stomach in need as I did so.
“I loved what you were playing. When you play the guitar and sing, it… well, I think it is my most favorite thing in the world. We were prohibited from listening to music at commune. When we were younger, my sister and I found an old radio in the forest. We managed to listen to it for thirty minutes before a guard found us. He took it away. I have never forgotten it, though, hearing the melodies, adoring the poetry of the lyrics. Prophet David issued an order shortly after that. Music was banned from then on.
“He preached that the devil could speak to us through the lyrics.” She let out a disbelieving laugh. “I believed it with all my heart. After all, Prophet David was God’s vessel on Earth. For years I worried that being entranced by the music had made me a bad person and that the devil had tried to make me fall. Now, I think it was all a falsehood. In fact, I am beginning to think all I have believed my whole life is a falsehood. I find myself questioning if there is even a God. Or is religion used to control people, for a small group of people to get what they want?”
She lifted my hand to stare at my fingers. “But hearing you play, it is so pure, so sincere… it frees you. This is when I believe there is more to life than what I have seen so far. I cannot imagine anything so beautiful being so evil. You make me find my faith once more.”
“I-it’s the only t-time I can sp-speak right. When I sing, I d-don’t feel no pressure. It’s my p-peace.” As she smiled, I brushed my lips past hers and said, “That and y-you. Something in my brain freezes when I t-try to speak to folks. B-but with you, my throat just o-opens up and l-lets that shit flow.”
Squeezing my hand, she said, “You have a beautiful voice. I wish I could play and sing like you.”
Reaching to my left, I lifted my treasured Fender and laid it across Mae’s lap. “Done.”
Turning her face slowly to meet mine, she frowned and said, “What?”
“You. G-guitar. I-I’ll teach you.”
“You will?” she asked as her whole damn face lit up in excitement.
“Mm-hmm.” Placing the guitar neck to the left, I placed her fingers in the first position on the strings. “This h-here’s a ch-chord.” Taking her right hand, I placed it below mine and guided it to strum. G-chord sounded out.
Her eyes met mine and she smiled, urging, “Okay, keep going.”
Moving the fingers on the neck to the next position, we strummed again. “D-ch-chord.”
Her shoulders danced in excitement and my fuckin’ heart swelled.
“Teach me a song.”
“Wh-which one?”
Her smile faded. “I… I do not know any songs to suggest.” Her lips suddenly hooked up again in an addictive grin. “The one you were playing in the bar when I first arrived. I want to learn that one.”
I tried to think back and, a second later, I smirked. “Y-you l-like Tom Waits?”
Her excited expression told me she did.
Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, I said, “Bitch a-after my own h-heart.”
“You play it first. Show me how.” I set my fingers on the right chords about to begin, when she cut in. “And make sure to sing. I want to hear your voice.”
Giving her a nod, I fixed my eyes on hers and strummed the intro, singing the opening line close to her ear. “And I hope that I don’t fall in love with you, ’cause falling in love just makes me blue…”
Replacing her hands for mine, I helped her get the right chords. Just as she was about to strum, I said, “M-make sure to s-sing. I want to h-hear your v-voice.”
Her black eyebrows shot north. “I cannot sing!”
I couldn’t help it, but I had to laugh. “Sure you can.”
“But—”
I flashed her my stern stare.
Shaking her head, she smiled. “Okay!”
“P-play.”
Keeping my hands on top of Mae’s, her small hands played over the strings, the intro stilted and choppy, but I helped her fumble her way through and just as she built up to the lyrics, her nervous eyes flitted to mine.
“Well, I hope that I don’t fall in love with you, ’cause falling in love just makes me blue…”
Holy shit. She was beautiful, all of her, outside and in, including her soft, breathy voice. My breath caught in response and my hands fell away from the top of hers, causing Mae to stop and grimace my way.
“Was it that bad?” she asked.
Swallowing hard, I shook my head. “B-babe. That was p-perfect.” Grasping the neck of the guitar, I yanked it off Mae’s lap. Gripping her chin between my fingers, I drew her face to mine.
“Styx?” she whispered as her eyes glazed and they flickered to my lips. My hands fisted through her hair and I began pulling her in. I needed those damn lips back on mine.
“Mae?”
I froze as someone called her name beside me. Mae’s eyes widened in embarrassment. Drawing back from my grip, she looked up to find Rider a couple yards away. He held his shoulder as if in pain and stared down at the two us. As Mae shuffled back a few inches, I jumped to my feet and charged in Rider’s direction.
“Styx, no!” Mae shouted from behind me as I met Rider chest to chest, teeth bared, and getting more pissed by the second. He didn’t even look my way once, too focused on Mae, showing no fuckin’ fear of what was about to happen.
Look at me! I signed, my hands moving right in front of his face.
“Are you ready to go in now, Mae? I’m tired. I wanna hit the hay.” Rider spoke forcefully, like I didn’t even fuckin’ exist. Before I knew what happened, I’d shoved my palms against his chest, launching Rider back about five yards.
“Fuck!” he hissed, stumbling back, wincing as he held his injured shoulder.
Fucker is seeing me now!
“I said stop!” Mae swerved in front of me, holding me back with her hands on my pulsing chest. I met her pleading eyes. “Please… he is hurt. Do not harm him.” Removing her hands from my chest, she hurried over to Rider, helping him get upright. Her hands fussed all over his body as she whispered something to him. His tight eyes softened as his good hand ran down her arm.
I walked to where they were, seriously considering ripping that arm from its socket. I barely noticed the brothers lifting their drunk asses off the floor and staggering to their feet, watching the show.
“What’s going on, Mae?” Rider asked in a quiet voice, looking at Mae like she should be on his arm, in his bed.
The brother fuckin’ wishes.
“I…” She flashed a worried look back at me. “I—”
She’s with me. She belongs to me, I signed, the brother this time reading every spelled-out word.
Something lit in Rider’s expression, an emotion so severe I didn’t think he was capable of feeling.
“He right, Mae?”
Mae frowned, unaware of what’d been said. I tried to speak in front of Rider, but my jaw locked and I couldn’t push it out. At that moment, I fuckin’ hated my retarded speech. I tried to get the words out, my eyes blinking hard, but only a quiet wheezing grunt was heard from my mouth.
“He said you’re his. Said you’re his property now. That right?” Rider said rigidly. Mae glanced over her shoulder to me and her upper lip curled into a smile.
“Is it true?” He pushed but this time in a harsher tone.
You fuckin’ questioning me, brother? I signed real fast. Rider’s lips tightened in response.
Mae reached down and took Rider’s hand, cutting off his glare. “We have been talking. Working things out.”
“Is that right?” Rider countered.
“Rider. Look at me.”
I watched as his chest heaved and his eyes narrowed on me. Never had a problem with Rider before but, over Mae, it was fuckin’ game on. As I stepped forward, pressing against Mae’s back, only a couple of feet from Rider, she slammed a palm on each of our chests.
“Rider! Look at me!”
With an exaggerated sigh, Rider gave her his full attention.
“You are my best friend. Please, do not be like this. Be happy for me.”
He sighed and his fuckin’ face fell. “Is he what you want?”
“He has always been what I want.” Mae’s hand weakened on my chest. “It is him and only him. It is Styx. It will always be Styx.” She spun around to take Rider by both arms. “But I need you too… You mean so much to me.”
Rider seemed to stare at Mae for an eternity before he nodded stiffly at her and began backing away.
Mae cried after him. “Rider, please!”
Fully turning his back on my woman, Rider thundered to the clubhouse and out of sight. He left Mae standing alone.
Brothers were all standing around gaping at us. Viking jerked his chin at Mae and laughed. “Fuck, girl. You got beer-flavored nipples or some shit? Why’re Prez and Doc going nuts for your skinny pale ass?”
Ky walked past Viking, hit him upside his red head, and ordered, “Shut it, Vike.”
From behind, I hooked my arm ’round Mae’s neck and whispered, “C-come on, you. Y-you’re with me.” Mae reluctantly tore her eyes from the door Rider had just walked through. I tucked her under my arm and strolled past the brothers. Ky shook his head as we passed, a knowing grin on his face. I suppose that was him finally approving.
“She yours, Styx?” Beauty asked from next to Tank. Tank winked in my direction.
Mae’s my woman, my property. Spread the word, I signed back. Beauty beamed a smile and translated for everyone else.
“‘Bout fuckin’ time,” AK shouted out to our retreating backs, quickly followed by jeers and several beer bottles smashing to the ground.
Entering the garage, we walked up the back staircase to my apartment. As we entered the door, Mae announced, “Back again.”
Hooking an arm around her neck, I replied, “You sh-should never have f-fuckin’ left.”
Slipping off her leather jacket, she laid it over the chair and slouched down on the worn flat cushion. Moving to crouch before her, I cupped her face in my hands. Tears were brimming in her eyes, falling down her cheeks.
“Y-you okay?” I tried not to show my worry for her.
“He looked so hurt.” She sniffed as she wiped at her eyes with her hands.
I clenched my jaw, kinda pissed she was so upset for Rider. I stood up and holding out my hand for her to take, said, “Get y-your l-leathers.” I needed to get out of this fuckin’ place for a while.
Her eyebrows pulled down in confusion. “Why?”
“You’re c-coming with m-me.”
A s
hort laugh graced her lips. “Where are we going?”
“Out.”
Her happiness soon faded. I raised an eyebrow in question. “My leathers—all my things—are still in Rider’s room.”
As I turned for the door, Mae’s hand gently gripped my arm. “I’ll go.”
“Fuck, n-no!”
“Styx…”
“I’ll g-get them. N-no arguments.”
I leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. With a low moan, her hands wrapped in my hair and she pressed her chest flush against mine, her pert tits pushing into my chest. My hands laid flat against her back, and skirting them down the thin material of Mae’s dress, I found the globes of her tight ass, groaning against her mouth as my cock hardened in my jeans, pushing against her stomach.
Finding my sanity before I fucked her on my unmade bed, I broke the kiss, pressing my forehead to hers. Flushed and breathless, Mae stepped back and I raced down the stairs to the clubhouse and toward Rider’s room, tucking my boner into my jeans.
Hammering on the door, I then tried the handle when there was no answer. As I entered the dark room, I didn’t notice the brother on his couch, clutching a bottle of Patrón. His dead eyes snapped to mine as I moved to the closet and began ripping down Mae’s clothes off the hangers, stuffing them into her bag lying on the closet floor. As I zipped up the bag, making sure her tiny leathers were on top, I turned only to find Rider throwing back the tequila, his lifeless eyes boring into mine.
Throwing the strap over my shoulder, I made a move to pass when he muttered, “You ain’t no good for her, you know.”
That stopped me on a dime. Walking three steps back, I signed, And who is? You?
A flash of white teeth shined through from beneath his dark beard as he grimaced and he shrugged. “Hell no. No fucker is. She’s too good for anyone in this fucked-up club. But I do get her, Prez. Do know her. And I know you. You’ll only fuck her around, break her when you cast her aside. Look at Lois, miserable her whole bastard life, now gone to Hades… because of you. You made her think she’d be your old lady one day. She stuck around, put in her time. Then Mae turns up and you shit on Lois, and then on Mae, with fuckin’ Dyson for fuck’s sake! She deserves more than you. More than all of us.”