To Awaken a Monster

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To Awaken a Monster Page 3

by Sam Crescent


  This was news to Preacher, and he smirked. “Does Robin even know what you have planned for her?”

  “No. She’ll do as I say.”

  “And while you go around ordering people, you’re going to what? Tell Bear he’s an asshole and he shouldn’t interfere?”

  Bishop opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again.

  “You can order Robin around. You can tell people what they’re not going to do and make them follow orders, but that’s not a reality here, Bishop. Robin’s not sticking around if she doesn’t want to. You should know that. You’ve been hanging around her for years. I seem to recall vaguely she has a dream of going to college, right?”

  His son snorted. “But she doesn’t need it.”

  “It doesn’t matter if she needs it or not. She has a choice, and you’re not taking it away.”

  “What does it matter to you? She’ll be my wife.”

  “Maybe I should call Billy. Tell him to come and arrest you, throw your ass in jail with a couple of the tough guys. See how far you get when you don’t have me to come and get you. You’d be someone’s pretty boy, you know that?” Preacher asked.

  Bishop rolled his eyes.

  “I’m done,” Preacher said.

  His son looked toward him.

  “If you want to push and test me, go ahead. Today was the last day I help you out of any little hiccup you cause. You think you’re so smart, telling me what you will and won’t do as if you have a choice in the matter. Fine, go ahead, be this big tough guy you think you are. I won’t be there to bail you out, and neither will any of my men.”

  “I’m still your son.”

  “I know, and, Bishop, I’ve got a lot of enemies. Let’s hope they don’t hear about this ultimatum because I won’t be coming for you. I won’t help you. You’re my son by name, but I wash my hands of you.”

  He stepped out of his son’s room.

  If Bishop wanted to test him, he could go right on ahead, but Preacher wouldn’t help. The only way to deal with a spoiled brat like Bishop was to push him at his own game. He could try to fight him every single step of the way, but it wouldn’t work.

  No one would ever be loyal to Bishop. His son had shown his true colors one too many times, and people were fucking tired of it. Preacher knew for a fact he was.

  Bored.

  Grabbing a beer on the way out toward the fire, he took a seat next to Bear, swigging his cold drink.

  It wasn’t what he needed, but for the time being it would do.

  “You okay?” Bear asked.

  “I don’t know why people have kids. I really don’t. I’m starting to understand why animals kill theirs. Little shits, they always think they know best.” He glanced over at Bear to see his friend smiling. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, you got a good one. A nice little angel. Academic and all that bullshit.”

  “What? I got lucky.”

  “Yeah, you did. With a mother like Rebecca, you sure fucking did.”

  “Now you’re starting to sound a little bitter.”

  “I’m not bitter.” Was he though? Bear had it easy.

  Robin and Bishop had grown up from the cradle with each other. He’d had Bishop even before he’d become club president, but even back then, he had one of the fiercest reputations anyone could have.

  Rubbing at his eyes, Preacher tried to clear his mind.

  He’d never married, and the slut that had given birth to Bishop hadn’t been any kind of mother.

  Within two years of having Bishop, he’d fought his way to the top, and had been dealing with all the MC problems from debts, to bad investments, to enemies. He’d been out all the time, and Flora had made sure Bishop paid for it. She forgot to feed him. Left him alone in the streets.

  He recalled a phone call he’d gotten where the motel Flora had used to fuck six men still had Bishop. He’d been four and locked in the bathroom.

  The only time Bishop had been taken care of was when he’d stayed with Robin. Rebecca had been a good mother in the beginning when she thought she’d gotten the better deal.

  “He thinks Robin’s going to bow down to him. Become his woman without any care as to what kind of future she wants.”

  Bear laughed. “Robin will handle him.”

  “Really? She was cut and bleeding today. I don’t know.”

  “I know my daughter, and she wants college a lot. She’s smart, and I won’t let her give up her dream because of him. Sorry, Preacher, you know I’m loyal to you. Always will be, but he’s not getting my girl. Not when he’s screwing the Millys of this world because my girl won’t put out.”

  Milly was already around the fire sucking on another brother’s dick.

  Preacher had never fucked Milly. Had no desire to. He recognized a calculating woman and a bitch when he saw one, and Milly had all those traits and they were not appreciated.

  Mavis, a blonde who was in fact a natural redhead, but she always dyed it blonde, walked up to him.

  “Could I get you a refill, sir?” she asked.

  Grabbing her hand, he stood up. He didn’t give an explanation but dragged her back to his office. Closing the door, he didn’t bother to lock it.

  He finished off his beer and turned to Mavis.

  She was nibbling her lip, looking proud of herself for standing out.

  “Get on your knees.”

  She looked disappointed, but he had no desire to sink his dick into her pussy.

  Without waiting for another instruction, she opened her lips and took him deep. Holding onto her head, he fucked her mouth, closing his eyes, and waiting for the peace to rush over him.

  ****

  Milly watched as Preacher took Mavis. What did that slut have that she didn’t? She wasn’t stupid and knew there was an order to the club. Most of the women had been taken by Preacher, but in the year she’d been hanging out at the club, not once did he look in her direction and she made sure he was very much aware of how available she was.

  She had no problem doing things other women couldn’t stand.

  She loved to suck cock, fuck for hours, and had no issue with a man fucking her ass. Men who she gave everything to were often putty in her hands. She thought about baby Bishop upstairs. He was only seventeen, and his technique was okay.

  If she couldn’t have Preacher, Bishop was the second best. After all, he was Preacher’s son, and belonging to him would give her an advantage.

  “Suck it, baby.”

  She choked on Kid’s cock, all the time coming up with a plan.

  All she needed to do was to get Bishop to see her, to imagine coming home or to the clubhouse each time to a willing, wet woman.

  The only obstacle in her way was Robin.

  She hated that girl. She always acted like she was too good for anyone. Of course, Bishop saw himself with Robin, but she had to get her out of the way, somehow.

  Milly wasn’t stupid. She’d come up with a plan, and once she did, she wouldn’t have to worry about Robin anymore. Either Bishop or Preacher would belong to her. She wouldn’t mind either man, but she’d heard Preacher had the better cock and he also held all the power.

  Bishop was the easier target.

  She’d win, someday.

  ****

  A couple of days later, Robin’s arm still bandaged, she flicked through Preacher’s endless supply of LPs. She’d found a love of old music, and Preacher had an abundance.

  Bishop sat in his father’s chair in the office.

  He’d finally been allowed out of the clubhouse, and she’d stopped by to see if he wanted to hang out.

  “What do you think it means with him washing his hands of me? You think it means I’m free to go?” Bishop asked.

  He’d told her on the night his father gave him a firm talking to exactly what he’d said.

  She stopped flicking through the LPs to look at her friend. “You know what it means.”

  “Come on, seriously, he’d just let me handle everything myself?”

  “He s
aid to try him, right? To push? To see if he was kidding? Why not push?” she asked. She wasn’t going to encourage him to go and do anything stupid. “Or you can show him that you’re sorry and not do anything rash or stupid?”

  “We were having fun,” he said. “I don’t see why he has to get into such a fucking state because of it.”

  She ran fingers through her hair, trying to hide her annoyance. Getting to her feet, she grabbed a chair, pulling it over to him. “Every single time he has to call in a favor, it costs him, Bishop. You know Principal Arnold has an issue with you. He’ll do anything to hurt your dad.”

  “I didn’t kidnap you.”

  “We know that, but he can make life difficult. Come on, you’re not stupid. You know how people can be, especially when they want to cause a problem and rile a situation up. This isn’t about you, or me. Your dad has to pay one way or another each time you cause a problem. What if he needs those favors and he’s using them for something petty like stopping the principal having you arrested for kidnapping me?” She air quoted the last part.

  “Are you defending him?”

  “Oh, wow, sometimes there is no way of talking to you.” Getting to her feet, she shoved her hair off her shoulder and walked over to the stereo. She rarely touched any of the property inside Preacher’s house.

  Even thinking his name in her head made her nervous.

  She closed her eyes as the beat of a popular song filled the room and made her smile. She moved one shoulder to the beat as she felt a smile spread across her face.

  Bishop groaned.

  She spun to him and started to swing her hips from side to side. “Just let it go, Bishop. Come on, you know you want to. You want to dance with me. Give in, for me.” She held her arms out for him to take.

  When they were younger, before Bishop wanted to drive her to having sex and causing headaches for his dad, they would spend hours dancing around whatever house they were in.

  “You can keep on hating your dad later. Just dance with me.”

  He got up, and she knew he was playing along, acting all reluctant, but she didn’t allow his mood to sway her. She was in a really good one herself.

  Grabbing his arms, she pulled him close, grabbing his hips and matching to the beat of the song. The pulse and energy ran through her veins, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

  Giving him a little twirl, she put his hands on her hips, and they danced around the house. After a short time, Bishop stopped being a moody guy and got right back into it.

  One song played into another before he finally captured her wrists, pressing her up against the wall. They were both panting for breath, but she’d had fun and didn’t want it to end.

  Bishop slammed his lips down on hers.

  She didn’t fight him.

  This was the first kiss they’d shared since the day he’d taken her and his dad had been pissed. In fact, they’d hung out, but nothing had really happened between them. He pressed his body against hers. She felt the hardness of his cock against her.

  “I want you so badly.” He let go of her hands, running them down her body, moaning as he ground his cock against her.

  She cupped his face, kissing him back.

  When he gripped her ass, pulling her back from the wall, he collapsed onto the sofa, and she followed him down.

  She wore jeans, and even as he started to hump against her crotch, she didn’t feel it, but kissed him.

  The kisses were nice, and as he grabbed her ass again, she saw no reason to calm him down just yet.

  He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down her neck. He started to unbutton her shirt, and it was going a little too fast.

  Pulling away, she smiled and pushed his hands back.

  “For fuck’s sake, Robin. Don’t you want to feel me inside you? It’ll hurt the first time, but after that, it’ll be all good. I promise.” He rested his hands on her thighs.

  “I’m not ready.”

  “You’re such a fucking cock-tease. You know there are thousands of chicks who’ll love my dick.”

  “Then go to them,” she said.

  The music turned off, and they both jumped to see Preacher in the room.

  “I don’t appreciate teenage pregnancy happening in my front room.” He held a large brown shopping bag.

  “Dad, what are you doing here?”

  “I’m going to cook. Your shirt isn’t buttoned right, Robin.”

  She looked down at her shirt and felt her face heat.

  Bishop got up, and seeing as she was still on his lap, she landed on her ass, knocking her arm up as she did so.

  She winced, but he didn’t stick around.

  “I don’t want you fucking that girl in my house,” Preacher said.

  “We weren’t doing anything. She’s too frigid to do anything.”

  Did Bishop even realize his voice carried? She could hear every single word he said, and it wasn’t exactly nice what he was saying.

  Glancing down at her arm, she saw little specks of blood appearing through the bandage. The doctor had said for her to take care of it, and here she was, getting thrown about by her boyfriend.

  She winced at the title. Bishop wasn’t her boyfriend. Was he?

  They acted like it in school. Some of the girls would taunt her how they’d already spent the night in his bed. Did they really think she cared?

  This was why she had a problem with giving herself to Bishop and also seeing a future with him. They were the best of friends, and if she was being honest, he was her only friend, but he was an asshole.

  He complained about his father being one, but the truth was, he wasn’t much better. In fact, there were times he could be worse.

  Don’t think that, Robin.

  “Besides, it’s not like I can’t find someone else to do what she’s unwilling to do. If being around the club has taught me anything, there is always a willing woman. I’ll go and see Milly. She can finish what she started. I’m out of here.”

  Much to her surprise Bishop walked out of the house, and left her there, with his dad.

  Great.

  Her ride was gone.

  Tucking her hair behind her ears, she stepped into the kitchen, and Preacher looked at her. “How much of that did you hear?”

  “All of it. It’s not a surprise.”

  “And yet you don’t do anything about it?”

  She folded her arms and glanced over his shoulder, not really knowing what to do. “What should I do? Tell him he can’t go out? That he should be more considerate? May I use your phone?” she asked.

  “Why?”

  “I left my cell at home, and I need a ride back.” Her stomach chose that moment to grumble, and Preacher snorted.

  “My fucking boy. I don’t know what I did to mess up. He brought you here, left you, and didn’t even feed you.” He shook his head. “I’ve got enough food here to feed a small army. You’ll eat, and I’ll drive you back.”

  “You don’t have to go to that much trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all, Robin. You okay with a stir-fry?” he asked.

  “Yeah, sure, I don’t mind.”

  “You need to take care of your arm.” He put down his food and came around. Before she knew what was happening, he held her arm, removing the bandage.

  He was such a large and fierce man.

  She’d seen him hurt and kill people without blinking an eye, or putting any effort into it. She wondered if he’d ever hurt her. Pushing those fears aside, she instead focused on what he was doing, the care he was giving.

  “You’ve split them open. Sit while I call the doctor.”

  “It’s fine. Really. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine when you’re bleeding. It has to heal.”

  “It’s not Bishop’s fault.” She cringed as he gave her a look.

  “You know, you’ve got to start letting him take the blame for his own mistakes. It will never do you or anyone else any good constantly picking up after him. He has to l
earn one way or another. Don’t be one of those women who make excuses for his behavior. It’s not good. One day, he will hurt you, if you let him.”

  She nodded her head, unable to speak. Sitting at the counter, she watched as he put the call through to the doctor and then got to work on feeding the two of them.

  “He’s not always like this, you know. I don’t know what has gotten into him.”

  “He’s a boy at heart, trying to be a man, and he doesn’t know how to grow up. One day he will. Hopefully before it’s too late.”

  “Too late for what?”

  “For him.”

  She felt frozen in place. “What do you mean?”

  “You think men like Bishop get an easy life? No, they don’t. They always think they’re the toughest son of a bitch in the room, but he’s not. He’s going to end up starting a fight he won’t get to finish. I just hope I’ve taught him enough to make it out alive.”

  The doorbell rang, and she jumped.

  “I’m not telling you ghost stories,” he said.

  “I … yeah, I’m not afraid. I wasn’t expecting the bell to go.” She didn’t even know why she bothered to say anything.

  He was already gone.

  Rubbing her hands together, she tried to gain her composure, but it wasn’t helping. Nothing was helping her right now.

  “So, you opened your stitches again,” Randall said the moment he entered the kitchen. “Something smells really good.”

  “You fix her up good and you’ll get some,” Preacher said.

  Randall led her out of the room, going to the bathroom.

  “You need to take care of this, Robin. If you don’t it won’t ever heal.”

  “I know.”

  “So how are you, Robin?” Randall asked.

  “I’m doing really well.”

  “Your mom has asked me to talk to you about going on the pill,” he said.

  She groaned. Her cheeks heated, and she looked at him, wanting the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

  “Did she? Really?”

  “Your mom and most of the club women come to me when they need something. She thinks it’s time you got on the pill, but I won’t prescribe anything unless Preacher tells me to, or I speak to the person I have to give them to.”

 

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