by Tillie Cole
Springing forward, I fisted Rider’s cut, really talking myself down from stabbing him in the chest and pissing in the open wound. Throwing him back to the couch, the shit didn’t even try to protect his injured arm.
Mae’s mine. Nothing to do with you. How I treat her and what we do ain’t none of your concern. And as for Lois… Talk ’bout her again and I’ll cut out your fuckin’ tongue. You wanna keep that patch, you better learn to fuckin’ respect me, I signed, laying a punch to the Road Captain patch on his cut.
As his biker boots planted to the floor, Rider sprang to his feet. He smashed the bottle against the wall, the liquor and glass spraying around the room. First time I’d seen the brother break.
“You made her my concern when you handed her to me! When you didn’t want her fuckin’ things up for you! Now after weeks and weeks of you treating her like shit, she’s straight in your bed. It’s a fuckin’ joke. She should be with me!”
Why? ’Cause you were a Jesus freak growing up? Don’t mean ’cause you know how to spout the fuckin’ thing she’s learned to despise, the thing that ruined her damn life, you’re meant to be with her.
Strutting forward, I got right in the brother’s face, the strong liquor reeking on his breath. You and me, brother. Got no issue as long as you stay the fuck away from Mae. She wants you as a friend. I don’t. Heal, do your runs, but if you get in my way with MY bitch, I’ll have no problem slitting your fuckin’ throat.
Laughing in my face, drunk off his ass, he smiled. “Yeah, she’s gotta damn Prince Charming in you, Prez. The bitch is beyond beautiful but I’m starting think she has no fuckin’ sense.”
I saw red.
Wrenching back my hand, I knocked the fucker out with a crack to his jaw. As he crumpled on the couch, I grabbed the bag and stormed from the room. Tossing the bag on my bed when I arrived back in my apartment, a startled Mae shot up from the chair.
“I’ll b-be outside. Five m-m-minutes.”
With a nod from my woman, I headed to the yard and revved up my Harley.
I just fuckin’ needed to ride.
Chapter Sixteen
Styx
Exactly four minutes later, Mae stepped out into the warm night, head to toe in skintight black leather. My hands tightened on my Fat Boy’s handlebars, my leather gloves grinding at my too-tight grip. Her long black hair was back in a braid and she rocked a pair of kickass black, short round-toed cowboy boots on her small feet.
Stepping toward me, she held her hands out to the side. “What do you think?”
Biting my lip ring between my teeth, I smiled and gave her a slow appreciative nod. Heeling back the kickstand, my two feet planted on the ground as Mae sat behind me, her arms instantly wrapping around my waist. Briefly closing my eyes, I exhaled. It felt so damn right. She belonged on the back of my bike. It killed me seeing her like this with Rider.
No. Fuckin’. More. My bike or none at all.
With a click of the control, the large metal gate opened and we rolled out of the compound. The warm breeze instantly whipped against my face and Mae buried her head into my cut, clutching me close. I knew just the place to take her.
Passing the two agents that were always on surveillance for the ATF, I flicked them the middle finger. Mae giggled into the Hades patch on my back. As we cruised down the open back roads, I was able to breathe, reboot, relax. I’d always loved being on the open road: no pressures, no expectations, no fucker needing me to talk.
Spotting my turnoff, I leaned left, scrambling down a narrow trail road coming out on the Colorado River. Slowing to a crawl, I heard Mae gasp. I knew she’d love this route. I was trespassing on private land, of course, but no one would stop us. I was the motherfuckin’ Hangmen Mute! They’d run far, far away.
Mae’s hands unclasped from around my waist, her arms lifting in the air. Checking her out in my wing mirror, I watched her tip back her head, hands touching sky, eyes closed, her face lapping up the sweet taste of freedom.
I wanted her. Right fuckin’ now.
Rolling to a stop, I hit the kickstand, parking the Harley beside a large oak. Turning around on my bike, I grabbed Mae’s thighs and pulled her onto my lap, right over my hard cock. Her blue eyes widened, their pools of color reflecting in the moonlight. Then that fuckin’ nose of hers twitched. In an instant, my hand wrapped around her head and I smashed my lips to her mouth. Mae was into it, giving me everything right back.
Tucking my hands under her ass, I groaned when she rocked against my dick. Breaking the kiss, my head dropped back to a hiss, a small knowing smile spreading on her lips.
Mae clasped her hands ’round my neck and shifted forward, her pussy slipping right along my cock.
“Ah,” I hissed and, using my neck for balance, Mae began to grind that pussy back and forth, her eyes widening, immediately getting off on it too.
Reaching up with one hand, the other hurrying the movements of her hips, I zipped down her jacket, her thin Hangmen tank underneath. Palming her tit, I massaged the flesh and my eyes rolled back—no fuckin’ bra.
Jesus. This bitch was gonna kill me.
Wrenching down the neck of her tank, her smooth milky skin came into view, her fat dusky nipple hard like a pink bullet. Ducking down, I wrapped my mouth around her tit, a loud moan slipping from her mouth as she worked her hips even faster.
Fuck, it was too good. I was gonna come… from a bitch dry-humping me through my jeans, on my bike… fuck. Mae’s breath came hard and fast, the nails on her fingers digging into the flesh of my neck. Moving back, I leaned against the Harley’s handlebars and Mae released her hold and palmed her hands on my chest.
Sucking on my lip ring, my hips jerked as she rocked back and forth, her eyes locked on mine as her breath paused. A long, guttural moan ripped from her throat. The sight of her head flung back, firm round tits out on show and coming like a tidal wave made me come, my cock so hard under her warm pussy I thought it was gonna burst through the zipper.
As her hips slowed, Mae’s jerky movements sent aftershocks right through my groin, and I gripped her tank at the waist as she wound herself down. Finally done, Mae crashed forward, her chest meeting mine, her warm breath blowing against my neck and her hands tucking around my waist.
I watched the sea of stars up above and as we lay in silence, I wrapped Mae’s braid around my hand. Then she lifted her head, a pink blush spreading on her cheeks. Moving down, she brushed her lips against mine, rearing back a fraction to whisper, “Sinning never felt so good.”
“Am I c-corrupting you, b-babe?” I said, unable to stop from smirking.
Mae’s finger traced lazy circles on my chest. “You are my biggest temptation, Styx, my personal forbidden fruit. But I want you regardless of if it is deemed wrong or immoral. I want you to… to…” Her eyebrows pulled down as she struggled to find the right words. “What do your biker women say…?” Her nose scrunched in thought, then she smiled excitedly and looked up at me with her stunning, huge wolf eyes. “I want you to own me.” She lifted to her elbows, her hips twitching in need. “I want you to… to…” Mae blushed and dipped her head.
I placed my finger under her chin and forced her head up to see me. “You w-want me t-to f-fuck you, Mae.”
Her tongue darted out and she licked along her bottom lip, nodding her head. “Tonight, Styx… despite the scars. I want you to show me what being with a man should be like. What giving my body and soul to you should be like.”
Fuck… Me…
Sitting upright, I pressed a kiss to the pulse on Mae’s neck and announced, “L-let’s get the fuck h-home.”
Forty minutes later and too many repeats of Nine Inch Nail’s “Closer” ripping through my head, we rolled down the country road to the compound, Mae licking and biting at my neck, her hand drifting over my still-granite cock, unable to keep her hands off me.
It was the fuckin’ worst form of torture and, for the first time in my life, I almost crashed my bike.
As we approache
d the back road to the clubhouse, a blacked-out truck parked off to the side caught my attention. Cutting the headlights, plunging us into darkness, I signaled for Mae to be quiet as I turned slowly into the gravel side road. I moved quietly to higher ground to check out who was scoping the compound.
Rolling to the top of the grassy hill, I could see the black Chevy truck about fifty yards away from the main gate. It had a fuckin’ ton of ammo in the back, what looked like homemade IED’s, and a big ol’ swastika bumper sticker on the tailgate.
“F-Fuck!” I hissed quietly.
“What is it?” Mae asked, concern in her breathy voice.
“FUCK!” I spat out again.
Mae’s whole body stiffened. “What, Styx? You are scaring me.”
“G-Gotta take you b-back.”
“No! What about you? I want to stay with you—”
“Mae! G-Gotta get you back inside. G-Gotta be p-protected.”
As quietly as possible we rolled down the hill, engine cut, then I hit the remote for the gate, the metal grinding as the gate started to move. That got the Neo fuckers’ attention. Wheels began burning rubber and they jetted off down the road.
Pussies. Don’t have the balls to take on the Hangmen on even ground.
My bike’s engine roared to life as I hit the ignition and gunned it to the gate. I skidded to an abrupt stop. “M-Mae, off. Tell Ky to call me. I g-gotta chase them.” We had to know where they were hiding out. It was my only chance. The pricks were getting too close to getting their hit.
Too fuckin’ close.
Mae began shaking her head, tears filling her eyes, gripping too tight to my waist, refusing to let me go.
Jumping off my bike, I lifted her up and planted her feet on the asphalt instructing her exactly what to tell Ky. “Y-you g-got all that?” I asked when I’d finished speaking. She nodded and I jumped back on my bike. She still didn’t move.
“Mae! D-do it!”
“Styx—” she cried, stepping forward.
“B-BABE! GO!”
Stumbling away, she begged, “Come back to me… please…” and ran full force into the clubhouse.
FUCK!
Roaring away with a screech on the empty road, I pursued the Chevy. I was sure I caught sight of the fucker a few miles down the road. Dropping back, I killed my headlights, smirking when the skinheads slowed, thinking they got away good and free. They had no idea of the fuckin’ shitstorm about to blow their way.
Forty-five minutes later, the Chevy turned onto a dark dirt road, leading to a rundown cattle ranch. The skinheads in black balaclavas got out and entered the old barn. The fuckers were all together, easy targets, but Ky still hadn’t called for the location.
Parking my Harley off the side of the road, I checked my cell.
Fuck, it was dead.
SHIT!
I knew I should’ve waited for the brothers. As much as I knew I could handle shit myself, I weren’t sure I’d come out of this alive. But I had no choice. The fuckers could move again and we’d be back to square one.
I needed to protect Mae. Couldn’t have her taking a slug in the skull for me too.
Mind made up, I pulled out my handgun from the waistband of my jeans, checked it was loaded and drew two Uzi submachine guns from my Harley’s saddlebags. Now armed, I ran across the field to the side of the barn, ducking down beside an old rusty Dodge Coronet RT. I glanced through the loose panels of wood. The Nazis were sitting around on tables, the assholes deep in conversation, debriefing no doubt, planning their next step. No weapons in sight, but the fuckers would be packing heat for sure.
There were nine Neo’s in total. ’Bout the right size for a small Klan out here in Austin—but it was eight more than my posse of one.
Gripping an Uzi in each hand, I took a deep breath and ran round to the front entrance. With a kick of the shitty gate, the skinheads were right in my line of fire, shock clear on their ugly fuckin’ faces.
Only one thought went through my head as I opened fire, a spray of bullets ripping through their bodies like butter; chunks of brain plastering the wooden walls of the barn and blood gushing outta ’em like geysers…
… Heil Hitler, motherfuckers!
Chapter Seventeen
Mae
I could actually hear my heartbeat thunder in my ears as I crashed through the doors of the clubhouse. I made a beeline for the lounge where really loud music blasted out of massive speakers. I threw open the door and immediately searched the room.
No Ky!
Flame was sat on a chair, a sharp blade in his hands, slicing down his left arm, smiling as he looked at the dripping blood. Running in his direction, I paused before him, but he was too entranced. Grimacing at what he was doing, I sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the tinny smell of copper.
“Flame!”
A spurt of blood gushed from his wrist onto my jacket and his head rolled back with an ecstatic hiss from his mouth.
I pushed at his shoulders. “FLAME!”
The brother snapped open his coal-black eyes and, gripping my wrists, pulled me forward, his teeth bared and covered in a watery sheen of blood. Recognition soon flooded his features and he instantly let go of my wrists.
“Mae?” he half asked, half stated, his black eyes softening a fraction.
As I rubbed my sore wrists, I shouted, “Where is Ky?”
Flame got to his feet, no shirt on his completely inked chest. I immediately removed my gaze from his bare torso with its scars—long, red, angry, raised—and burn marks, hundreds of them edged in scar tissue.
My goodness. What had happened to Flame?
“His room’s third on the right.”
Nodding, I again averted my gaze from his self-mutilation and took off for the room. I slapped frantically on the beaten dark wood door but Ky’s music was too loud.
Too impatient to politely wait for answer, I shouldered the door and instantly froze as I stumbled into the room. Naked, Ky was on his back, Tiffany riding his erect length. Jules, all her body exposed, had her privates over Ky’s mouth as she sucked on Tiffany’s breasts. It was a sinful den of hedonism and not one of them took the slightest bit of notice as I stood there in disbelief. The music and their noises, the slapping and sucking sounds of their joining, had drowned out the crash of the door.
“Ky!” I tried to scream over the cacophony, but he did not stop.
Spotting the stereo beside the bed, I ran over, almost tripping on an array of peculiar-looking plastic toys. Some were vibrating and rotating as they twitched along the wooden floor.
Making sure not to stare at the writhing figures on the bed, I began hitting the stereo and after several slaps, managed to mute the volume. As if in a daze, Tiffany looked up first, yet she did not stop in her joining.
“Mae?” she confirmed, breathlessly.
Obviously hearing my name, Ky unseated Jules’ spread legs from across his mouth, pushing her to one side. With a yelp, the blonde almost toppled off the bed. Rising to his elbows, Ky wiped her juices off his lips with his arm.
Concern immediately washed across his face; Ky asked, “Mae, what’s up?”
Ky pushed against Tiffany’s shoulders, halting her grinding, her back hitting the iron railings on the foot of the bed. His hard manhood came into view, so I turned away, speaking over my shoulder.
“It is Styx. He has gone after them on his own. Ky, I am terrified. There were so many of them!” I rushed out, my voice betraying my panic.
Ky’s blood drained from his face. He jumped out of bed and dressed rapidly in his jeans, black shirt, and leather cut.
“Who’s he gone after, Mae? Explain, now!”
He hopped as he tugged on his boots. I followed him out to the hallway. He accelerated hard as his fists pounded on the doors of the brothers’ private rooms. He screamed, “Business! Move out now!”
Turning to face me once again, he said, “Mae, talk!”
Viking, AK and Smiler shot out of their rooms rubbing at their
bloodshot eyes.
“Styx and I went for a ride. When we came back to the compound, there was a big black truck parked to the side of the gate. A… a…” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember what Styx had said. Snapping my eyes open, I blurted, “A Chevy. A black Chevy truck. He told me to tell you it was full of ammo and it was the… Nazis?” I looked Ky straight in the eye. His mouth had tightened into a thin line. “Is that right, Ky? The Nazis?”
He nodded and turned to punch the wall. “Fuck! He’s gone in alone. The fuckin’ stupid dick!”
The brothers as one ran into the lounge. Flame still sat on the chair, the tip of his long blade now pressed into his thigh, making deep cuts. His heavily tattooed, flamed neck strained and he sported a large bulge in his jeans.
My Lord, I thought; his self-inflicted pain excited him… sexually.
Seeing the commotion, Flame stood, his black eyes twinkling at the implication of danger—no, death. That was the only way to describe it. Death was just lurking under the surface. Flame had demons tormenting his soul.
“What?” Flame asked in a deep guttural tone.
“Nazis. Styx. The stupid bastard’s gone in alone,” Ky explained tightly.
Flame’s teeth clenched and his thick neck strained, writhing with corded veins. He released a roar and began slapping his chest, his blade still clutched in his hands ripping into his already marred skin. I wanted to reach out for him to stop, to stop hurting himself so badly, but it was as if he had an impenetrable aura wrapped around him, which kept the entire world at bay.
“He said to call him for his location,” I recalled, dragging my attention back on the matter at hand. Ky dug into his pocket as Tank, Beauty, Letti, and Bull appeared through the front entrance. Obviously they had been in the yard. Tank and Bull stormed over to the brothers; Viking brought them up to date on recent events.