Born Biker: Devil’s Crucifix MC

by Vivian Gray

  “No. Some family. Lost the husband, I hear.”

  “So why are we here? Why do you care about this? We’re not getting into the business of burning, are we?” His voice quickens as he asks like an addict hearing about a new drug at a pharmacy. Old habits die hard, especially when they are the ones that get your fire started.

  “That’s the thing,” I explain as I run my hand through my hair, “these buildings used to be owned by us. All of them were at one point. But we sold a ton of our old housing when we bought the warehouse on Oceanview.”

  “What were these houses used for?”

  “Club member dorms. We used to be old school -- everyone works together. Everyone lives together. But the club grew up and some of the ladies popped out babies. Nobody wanted to raise their kids in the same place you stored shipments of pure coke. And a kid or two got wind that the basements of some of these homes were where we took traitors in for their paybacks. We couldn’t exactly keep them out, especially at night when the parents were out.”

  I think back slightly to those times. The Devil’s Crucifix had only been around for a few years as a spinoff of the Hell Rangers. A few guys and I couldn’t take being under control of a headquarters thousands of miles away in Cali. We wanted our own autonomy to do what we wanted, the freedom to run our own business without paying dues. We fought hard to split. A good man or two got killed just trying to defect. But we managed to make it out and, for the most part, we grew bigger and stronger by huddling together in these homes.

  This one in particular was a big meeting place. We housed an old lady here we named Big Red. She took in any guy who wanted a little warmth at the end of a long ride. During the day, she did laundry and cooked warm meals. And at night, we used her in our initiation parties to get things started. She trained the other women, too -- made them into submissives like we want them. “No man is a man until he’s tried a Big Red,” we always say. She was even there for me when I got out of prison six months ago, but this time, it was back at my home in the warehouse.

  I’m the only club member who lives there. As the President, I need to be present at all times while the rest of my guys, Remmy included, are allowed to live wherever the hell they choose. Most pick apartments nearby, but we have a rule that only two members can live there at one time. No one wants to be a sitting duck for an attack like this.

  It’s an attack. It has to be. No arsonist, or “burner” as Remmy calls them, is just randomly running around Sterling, Oregon accidentally hitting old Crucifix places. Like Remmy said, this guy knew his stuff. He planned this out and knows the inside outs of burning buildings to the ground. And more so, he didn’t give a shit about whoever was inside.

  Even if it was a hot blonde with a banging body…

  There it is again. I’m back to thinking about her. Dani. That’s what that firefighter had called her when he knelt over her burnt and bruised body.

  By the time I had gotten her out of that building, she was covered in black soot and fiery red bursts of red pockets along the places her arms were burnt. Her face was cut up, glass bits practically falling from her long golden hair like little diamonds. And her full, thick lips were cracked and white. Smoke inhalation and a total lack of oxygen will do that to you. But she was still as fine as when I spotted her in that window.

  Skip had called me moments before I scaled the walls to her building to rescue her. He told me he had figured something out -- something we had missed. None of us Crucifix members really watched the news except for when we were wanted or one of our guys were being sent away. But he had come across a news report for a few homes and apartment buildings that were burnt down and recognized this place.

  It only took a few moments calling around to some of the leaders to confirm that those buildings used to belong to us. And, as Remmy warned us, only time would tell before another building was going to get caught up in fresh flames.

  I don’t know why I picked the building Dani lived in, but we all took turns keeping an eye out on the old places. It was my shift to do a check-in and I had just pulled up to the place on the outskirts of the highway. As soon as I saw it, I knew something was wrong. The place was dark, too dark. And silent, too silent. My eyes were immediately drawn to the roof where flames were spitting out like a volcano already to erupt.

  I didn’t exactly run inside as soon as I saw the fire. Instead I snapped some pics as I made my way around the parking lot looking for the man who set it off. If he were anything like me, he’d be wanting to stick around to see the carnage unfold.

  But I stopped as soon as I saw her -- at least the shape of her. There was this girl in the third floor window running back and forth from one window to the next. She looked desperate, determined. Her hands sort of pounded against the glass as she headed back into the dark apartment. Above her, flames raged on as I wondered what kind of hell she knew she was facing.

  I couldn’t leave her alone. I couldn’t let her go through that. I found a drainpipe from one of the gutters and began to climb. I didn’t stop to let myself think about what was going on above me or how the pipe rattled and moaned as I used all of my upper body strength to pull myself forward. Even when I hit the second floor and I could feel the flames against my face from over a story up, I knew I couldn’t stop. That girl needed me.

  I hopped onto the ledge of one of her windows facing her kitchen and living room. Wrapping my face with a Devil’s Crucifix bandana, I used my gloved hand to quickly punch through the warm glass. To my surprise, it shattered easily -- too easily. It felt like I could have waited another five minutes before the window would have done it on its own. The heat was too much for even things forged in fire to withstand.

  A cloud of smoke hit me almost instantly as every instinct in me was telling me to go back out that window and down the side as fast as I possibly could. But I couldn’t force myself to do it. There’s that girl all bundled up behind the couch, the glass pieces causing small slivers of red patches to pop up on her face and arms. She was barely dressed, making her petite little body look even smaller when covered in chalky smoke.

  To my surprise, she didn’t freak when she saw me. Most women do. I’m not exactly clean cut and prep. The leather colors jacket alone makes some women run, and when the rest find out what those patches mean, they’re not far behind. But she didn’t scream for me to get out or demand to know who I am. She knew I’m her only way out, her best option to get to safety.

  I walked over to her quickly, picking her off the ground. I could feel her snuggle into me and it made me want to curl my fingers deeper into her skin. She said a few words to me as I ran straight for the door, but I couldn’t hear her. Her mouth was moving without sound even though the entire apartment building was this eerie silence you knew shouldn’t be right. Nothing should be this quiet when it’s moments away from destruction.

  Whatever she said, a warning or a command, I went ahead and kicked the locked door down and moved cautiously through the flames. I eyed the other rooms in the building as we went but I was too focused on just getting her and me out of here and alive. No one else mattered. That was, until I did hear her voice. We were already down the stairs when she wagged her shaking finger towards the fire escape door and said, “... get them out... “

  She didn’t know who I am. She didn’t know I went to prison for smuggling drugs across state lines or that I’ve actually killed men before -- family men with wives and children. She didn’t know I’d give anything for a fix to take me away from the hell around us. She didn’t know I have a gang of men willing to do anything and everything I set them out to do. She didn’t know I was not the hero there. I was just some guy looking to protect his ass that happened to see her on fire.

  Whatever it was about her, those green eyes sparkling like jade or her weak body practically giving out in my arms, I did it. I got it done. I managed to get out three people and a cat that scratched and clawed at me as I tried to scoop it up from its home. I was a fucking fireman, a
superhero.

  But when I got back to her, she was gone. Curled up under my jacket large enough to be a full blanket for her, her eyes had rolled themselves back and her lips had gone from dusty gray to almost completely white. Even her skin in the pale, shaking light of the hallway looked off-color. I put her back over my arms and sped down the rest of the stairs just to find the door completely barricaded from the outside. But nothing could hold me back. With the help of another man I just pulled from his bed, we both took turns ramming our bodies into the side until the post stuck between the door handles cracked and broke and our crowd spilled out dramatically towards the firemen just pulling up.

  I knew I couldn’t stay. Men like me don’t get curtain calls. They don’t get standing ovations. I wasn’t supposed to be here, so what did I tell the police chief when he sees me, “Uh… don’t arrest me, officer. I’m not here on Devil’s Crucifix business. I actually saved this hot piece of tail I spotted in a window…” Yeah. That wouldn’t fly.

  I placed her down a few feet from the fire truck and headed around the corner towards the parking lot. My bandana untied itself from the force of the firemen’s hoses beginning to spray the apartment building down. I knew I needed to go chase after it. It was evidence that certainly didn’t belong there. As I turned to reach for it floating in mid-air, I paused. I could just barely hear the firemen shout her name when they recognized her.

  “Dani! Jesus Christ! What happened to her? Does she live here? Chief! It’s Dani!”

  I don’t know why, but I ran. I ran like the damn wind right out of there back to the alley street and over the where I parked my bike out of sight of the road. I pulled the neck of my jacket up in hopes that if anyone had a security system, it would only catch sight of my eyes. You can’t really catch a man who is just eyes.

  My feet pounded onto the pavement till it hit the treeline. I hopped onto the bike, ignoring the pain in my arms from carrying her down the stairwells and the heat that tore the hair right off of my arms, even through my jacket. I tried to focus on the roar of my Harley, but that man calling her name was still echoing in my mind, the moments replaying over and over again as if on some broken record player. Dani. Her name is Dani. And I’m going to do whatever I can to find out who in the hell did that to her.

  ***

  Remmy touches my shoulder again. It’s another lapse in time and space devoted to her. He looks at me with a long side-eye as he asks, “You want to tell me what happened the other night at the Queen Estates apartments?”

  I watch in horror as he holds up my bandana. It’s covered in holes, dirt, and mud, but there is no denying it’s the one I lost saving Dani from the fire.

  He looks at me suspiciously as he asks, “I found this last night when I went to the burn site to check it out. I know it’s yours, Ash. I need you to tell me what the hell you were doing there.”

  Where do I even begin?

  Chapter 4

  “Not tonight, Catty. Not tonight.” I’m already sitting down at my rusty metal desk when I hear the knock on my door. It’s her. It’s always her.

  She taps her fingertips against the wood and I can hear her press her body up against the door as she whispers to me, “You never say no to me, President Ash. You can’t resist it. Just let me in, and I’ll make it all worth it.”

  “I’ve got a meeting in about twenty minutes. I need you to get the hell out of here.”

  “Twenty minutes? What I have in mind for you can be done in five. I’m that good.” Her voice is always an octave lower than it should be when she talks to me. She can’t hide how fake it is. But more so, she knows just how irresistible it is for me.

  Catty’s been my girl for a year now. She replaced Martha or Mary or May-Anne. I don’t remember. There’s so many of these girls at my altar that I have a hard time keeping track. When you’re President, you’ve got rights and first and foremost is the right to pick out whatever piece you wanted that night. There was always a main girl, a girl to keep the rest of the wanters in line, but variety has been the spice of life for me.

  She can hear me hesitate as her voice notches desperate, pleading note. “Come on, Ash,” she calls. “Just let me in, and I won’t bother you.”

  I let out a long, tired sigh and shut the top of my computer down. My office is just small enough that I can reach behind me and open the door wide enough for her plump body to slip through. I spot her red-orange dress first -- the color of flames. It’s like she knows.

  Catty stands just outside the door and stares at me, waiting for my orders. When I don’t give her any, she begins to fidget, rocking her weight back and forth on her high heels. Finally, she breaks the ice, snapping, “Where do you want me?”

  She doesn’t want the real answer here. The real answer is, I don’t want her -- not even a little bit. In fact, she’s kind of grossing me out at the moment, compared with the flavor I really do want. See, truth is, the only thing I have a taste for tonight is blondes in flames, not a redhead with a bad spray tan.

  Still, there are politics to think about here. If I resist her and she tells the other girls, it will spread like wildfire. It always does. A man not taking a woman is a big deal, especially if he’s the president and the girl’s club property. I’m already in hot water with Remmy. He’s got the bandana and he could do whatever he chooses with it. When he showed it to me, I just walked away, telling him I was there that night on patrol.

  That part was true. But how it got amongst the rubble he found would still be a question. And part of me is thinking I am becoming suspect number one in the case of the old building fires. No president wants that on their backs.

  If Remmy found out I also turned down Catty, who is one of our top girls and the most undeniably desirable woman in our harem, it would set things in motion I couldn’t stop if I tried. So I clear my throat harshly as I point towards the side of the desk. “I want you here,” I try to say lightly, but I’m pretty sure it comes out as a growl.

  Catty walks slowly over towards me, her heels clicking on the cement floor as she goes. She spins towards me, her full, juicy breasts just at my eye level as I sit back in my rolling chair. They linger there for me to stare down into the deep depths of her massive cleavage. The woman’s curves were deadly. Her arms push them forward a bit as she leans down to me before slipping up on the top of the cold desk.

  Grabbing her by her bare leg, I roll myself over to her, parting her thighs to make room for me. As I come closer to her body, she smells like honey and dates -- sweet and tart all at the same time. I wrap a hand around her back and tug at the bottom of her dress from her hips. It slides up, revealing a bare, thong-covered ass. I watch her with a wicked smile as she tries to adjust to the ice-cold surface -- my little punishment.

  “Oh.” She lets out as she squirms. “Can I sit in your lap instead?”

  “No. You’re going to stay right here.” I slip the rest of the dress over her chest and head so she’s almost completely naked before me.

  Her tan skin glows under my lamplight. She tries to protest against the cold by wrapping her arms around her bare tits, but I yank them away, pulling them back to the side so her hands have to hold on to the metal curve of the desk. Her eyes dart straight to the couch on the side where we usually have our meetings.

  “I heard you were in a fire,” she says, as casually as possible. “I’m not quite as warm blooded, you know.”

  I ignore her as I unbutton my pants and remove my t-shirt. When they fall to the ground, I kick them quickly to the side, way out of the way from her grasp. I sit back down on the chair and wait for her to follow.

  She eyes me almost suspiciously as she slinks off of desk and down to the even colder floor. Her knees wobble under her as she places her hands onto my thighs. Catty licks her red painted lips strategically before placing a small kiss on the top of my cock. Her mouth is warm and sticky, just like I like it. She slides it open just a peek as it takes even more of my cock into her. Centimeter by centimeter she cli
mbs down me until I feel the curve of her mouth and the soft caress of her lips near the end. My long length is too much for her to take at once. Still, she wraps her long hands around the rest of my shaft and begins to gently pump up towards her mouth where her tongue is now lapping.

  My member bursts into life at the feeling. The blood pumps fast and quick, and I can feel the vein pulsating against the side of her mouth as it grows stiffer and straighter inside of her. Her head travels up and down over me, cascading like ocean waves, and for a moment, I forget about that girl in the fire. I forget about everything else but Catty and her lips pleasuring me like the expert she is at it. Her lips were made for men like me.

  She pauses at the top, looking up at me with her small hazel eyes. Her lips move. She’s saying something. But what comes out isn’t her voice. It’s Dani’s voice. “Please…please…”

  I shake my head furiously, trying to focus on the girl in front of me. She’s just as good. At least, I know she’s as good, if not better. This girl is on a silver platter. She’s not someone I have to rescue. “What did you say?” I ask, growling down at her.