Dangerous Lies

by A P Foote

  Gently, I remove myself from the couch so I don’t disturb him. Standing becomes difficult as my nerves take control, turning my legs into Jell-O. I keep telling myself, ‘don’t be that girl who walks toward the scary noise,’ but I can’t turn around. My brain is telling me to stop but my body is on autopilot.

  Creaking noises disturb the silence at the other end of the hall. So, of course, like a moron I go towards it.

  I should have just woken Dalton up.

  Light shines into one of the rooms casting a glow around the door on the left. I stop in front of that one, my eyes glued to the bottom of the door waiting for… I don’t know, a shadow or something. Nothing.

  My hand moves on its own, fingers brushing over the metal handle; my palm is next until I have it in my grasp. The nob turns on its own recognizance clicking open an inch. I push it the rest of the way open and there, standing in the glow of the moon is a man dressed in all black. His arms, legs hands and face are completely concealed. Everything except his eyes. His blue eyes glow unnaturally bright in the dark room. I squint, trying to see more clearly.

  “Cass?” I don’t know why I said his name. It just… slipped out. If I could see the rest of his face, I know he’d be smiling. His eyes are creased at the corners and they have an evil gleam to them.

  Everything happens so fast, one minute he’s across the room and the next? He’s on me, his hands wrapped around my throat squeezing the life out of me. His leg wraps around mine, causing me to lose my balance and hit the ground with my head bouncing off it like it’s being used in an NBA game, with the man still on top of me.

  Why aren’t I fighting back? Don’t be a fucking twit, Kat! Kick his ass, something!

  His hands release my throat and I’m able to finally scream. The blood curdling sound pierces my own ears, letting out every last breath until I have nothing left.

  “Kat! Kat! Wake up!” Strong hands grip my shoulders trying their best to keep me still. “Open your eyes, sweetheart.” Dalton’s voice makes its way through my system. My eyes flutter open to see worried ones staring intently at me. My body stops thrashing around, finally relaxing into his arms.

  “I’m good, I’m good.” I think I’m good anyway. It was just a fucking dream, a really bad fucking dream, but at least it wasn’t real.

  His gentle fingers smooth back the hair that fell in my face. “You’re not okay. What happened?”

  “Bad dream I guess,” I whisper. “I’ll be fine.”

  He mulls over my response, and I can tell he wants to argue but thinks better of it. “Wanna talk about it?”

  I touch him, running my hand over his arm, tracing the tattoos covering them. His skin raises with goose bumps and he tries to brush off the shiver creeping up his spine.

  “Kat, I—”

  Rejection. That’s what that stabbing is, or it could be my bruised ribs. Either way, it stings like a bitch.

  My head falls, and I remove my hands from the comfort of his skin, but I don’t get very far before he’s pulling them back and into his lap.

  “That’s not what I meant.” His eyes flick back and forth between mine. “What about Clyde?”

  So that’s what he’s worried about. I mean, I don’t blame him though, I would have the same concerns. If I’m honest with myself I don’t know that I could choose between them. Not that I would have a choice. If it wasn’t Clyde I chose, I’d have to flee town and leave everything behind. On second thought though, that doesn’t seem like a bad idea. Fuck it, you only live once.

  Grabbing his arms, I pull him to me, and the shock on his face has me giggling. I bring my hands to his face, my fingers brushing against his five-o-clock shadow. He doesn’t resist me, instead meeting me the rest of the way.

  His lips brush against mine and my tongue slips through the opening into his. His hands wrap around my waist, moving me closer to him, careful not to hurt me when he pulls me down onto his lap. We kiss, his tongue meeting mine thrust for thrust. He works his way under my shirt to run his hands over my back, every so often using his nails to scrape the surface and heighten my desire. I don’t think I can go any further than this, my ribs will be pissed at me if I do.

  “Kat,” he breathes between kisses. His mouth leaves mine to find my neck. His warm mouth kissing the line of fingerprints that mar my skin.

  “Mm,” I moan, tilting my head back to give him better range. I delve my fingers into his hair, tugging every time his tongue flicks against the sensitive skin under my ear.

  He groans, grinding his covered hard on against my pussy. I reciprocate, mocking his moves making him repeat the action. “We.” Kiss. “Gotta.” Kiss. “Stop.”

  “No.” I deny him, bringing my lips back to his. He grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling my face away from his.

  “You’re hurt. I don’t want to make it worse,” he pants, dragging his hands across my thighs. I grind against his lap, earning a frustrated hiss from him. “Kat.”

  “You won’t hurt me. Give me a pain pill and I’ll be fine.” I smile down at him. He snorts leaning over the couch for the pill bottle labeled Vicodin. He pops the top handing me one along with the glass of water perched beside it. I take the white oblong pill chasing it down with the water, and then he takes the glass from my hand and sets it back on the table.

  Pressing my chest against him, I lean in and my lips dive straight to his neck, kissing him here and there, every once in a while, biting the fuckboy lips tattoo he has. He sighs, kneading my thighs from my knee to my ass and back again. The power over his own self-control excites me. I want to see what he can do, I want to see what kind of animal he’s got caged inside him begging to be unleashed.

  “Don’t hold back,” I whisper against his throat. He grips my hips, pressing them down on him, making sure I can feel all of him and he succeeds. The massive bulge in his pants is huge—a giant mound throbbing to burst free.

  The scruff on his face is abrasive against my soft skin when he nudges my face with his, stopping me to look at him. His eyes are glued to my lips watching them hungerly. “Not right now. Right now, I want to show you how you deserve to be treated.”

  Oh, he has no idea what exactly I deserve

  I nod, pecking his lips with mine. He supports my weight, lifting me in his arms. My legs instinctively wrap around him. He takes us down the hall to one of the three rooms at the end kicking the door closed behind us, “Lock it.”

  Lock it? For what? Don’t question it, Kat, just do it.

  I do as he says waiting for his next move. I don’t give a shit what that is, as long as it involves him, me, and that giant dip stick in his pants.

  Thump! “Ow, fuck!” he curses, limping to the bed. “Damn chest hurts like a son of a bitch.”

  “Hehe, you’ll be okay, big D.”

  He stops to consider me. “Those pills kicking in?”

  His smirk makes me squirm in his grasp, and I pull myself closer to him. My clit throbs with intensity begging me for some reprieve. I glide against him to release some of the tension. “Mm…”

  He stumbles, gently lowering us to the bed with me seated on top of him. “Don’t do that while I’m standing.”

  “Aye, aye captain.” I mock a sailor’s salute. My head swims, thoughts and feelings crashing over one another, my feel-good pills doing their job.

  Oh, I need him so bad, he has no idea what he’s getting into with me. I’ll break him like a wild horse. Then, his brother. Ooooh both of them at the same time! No…him, Cass and Clyde. I’ll show them who I really am, what they could have with me, together. I pin Dalton to the bed, ripping his shirt from his body.

  I don’t know how that worked out so well, I’m just glad it did. That could have been embarrassing.

  He gasps in shock at my strength and technique. Let’s be real I’m a badass bitch. They didn’t call me the reaper for nothing.

  My shirt easily slips over my head, falling behind me and I kick it to the side. My pants are next to come off, lifting my ass e
nough I’m able to slide them down with ease. Dalton licks his lips, giving me all the fire, and motivation I need to give him all I’ve got.

  Clyde

  “Where the fuck are they Casey?” I bark, pacing the floor. If I tread any more, I’m gonna have to replace the carpet.

  “I have no fucking clue. I’ve called his cell, her cell, and a couple people to see if they’ve seen his truck, and nothing.”

  I angerly approach him, getting nose to nose with the mother fucker. “If he even so much touches one hair on her head, I swear I’m gonna—”

  “You’re gonna do what? kill him? You think that will go over very well with Kat?” he bites back.

  My anger seethes, my face, ears and all begin to burn from my blood pressure coming dangerously close to exploding. Using all my strength, my hands make contact with his chest, shoving him hard. He stumbles back in shock, but regains his composure, bowing up as he approaches me. I do the same—I can’t show him any kind of restraint. Whether he wants to admit it or not we’re the fucking same, the difference is I’m not afraid to be the real me. His nose bumps into mine as his heavy breathing fans my face.

  “Ahem, you two love birds gonna fly the coop? orrrr should I shut the door?” Nix teases, his finger rapping the wall.

  “Not the time, Nix,” I say, never taking my eyes off Cass.

  “You need to make time. I just got a call.” He holds up the tiny black flip phone. “Dalton’s truck was seen pulling into Rainier National Park.”

  The fuck? Goddamn cabins.

  “What are they doing there?” I direct the question at Cass. He shrugs not giving a damn that his idiot brother made off with our girl.

  Pfft, listen to me, our girl?

  “That’s not all boss.”

  Great, what the fuck else is it? I side-step Cass, giving Nix my undivided attention.

  “The Power won’t meet. Says, and I quote, ‘There’s nothing to talk about. She and you brought what’s to come upon yourselves. If you don’t turn her over or deliver her head on a stake, they’ll be forced to up the ante.’”

  They’re so fucking stupid, a stake? We aren’t Vampire Salyers. They think I’m going to let some cousin fuckers destroy everything I’ve built? Take the only god damn thing I love away from me?

  “Let’s take a ride,” Cass agrees along with Nix in silent understanding. I’ve got bigger shit to worry about than these lowlife supremacists. We’re gonna hit ’em where it hurts.

  The ride to DuPont only takes forty-five minutes. It’s midnight so the traffic wasn’t a problem. Nix takes up the rear of our small pack consisting of him, myself, and Cass. There’s no other reason to involve the other members with this; I’m keeping them busy with numerous mindless tasks that should only take a few hours. Besides, I don’t want to explain myself. I know there’ll be questions, hell some of the guys might even question me. They’d be better off not.

  DuPont sits next to the military base, most of the officers who live off base, live here. I guess these skinheads love the business the enlisted guys bring them.

  Brett, The Powers DuPont Chapter President is a nasty fuck. He’ll fuck anything on two legs including his sister, he’s done it.

  When I took over Bay Lake, I implemented some new rules, it didn’t matter race, sexuality, or beliefs, if you’re down then we can talk about it. They didn’t take to kindly to it, some of our members didn’t agree with the statement at first but ultimately voted in favor.

  Brett called for a meeting, thinking he was gonna tell me how to run my club. His Prospect stepped out of line, thought he had superiority over me. The fucking President of the Berserkers. I taught him otherwise. The kid never stood a chance against my Club and neither does Brett. I’ll make him fucking regret he ever thought of Kat’s name. This beef was handled on the low, there wasn’t a need to get any charters involved in the bullshit

  There’s a baseball field down the road from their warehouse where they run all their drug and gun operations from. During the day the warehouse is full of members processing weapons, testing the purity of the blow they smuggled in through northern ports.

  This will be a warning for them, a warning to all who think they can corner an Alpha. I’ve never cowered away, and I don’t ever plan to.

  I take point, with Cass and Nix following close behind. Idiots, there’s a gaping hole in the perimeter fence. Do they really believe no one would fuck with them? They’re more ignorant than I initially thought.

  “Hoods up,” I whisper, crouching low. We creep through the hole in the fence being careful not to rattle the chain links. Nix is the last one through, keeping to the shadows, opposite of where their security systems are pointed. Not that it’ll matter once we’re through, all the evidence of our presence will be ultimately destroyed.

  The north side of the warehouse is free from lights, cameras, and any physical people. We plaster our bodies against the bricked wall foundation, Cass and Nix both looking, waiting for my next move. My hand wraps around the piece in my waistband, the metal barrel extra cool against my skin as it slides from the safety of my crotch. I hold it up tapping the trigger guard, signaling Nix of his role in all this. He nods, reaching into his pocket and pulling his cover, concealing his face with the custom skull bandanna I gifted him for his birthday. He takes off in search of the security guard on The Powers’ payroll.

  There are a few junk cars forever stationed near a shed about fifty yards away that would provide the perfect cover until Nix gives me the all clear. I bolt across the lot, Cass hot on my heels, ducking and weaving through the barrels lying out in the open, directly beneath the security lights. The junked cars come quick, so we stop and wait behind the black, rust bucket closest to the mobile building and wait.

  We both heavily pant, the chill in the air stinging our lungs. Every night it’s getting cooler and cooler, and the last time I felt this intense burning is when these fuckers torched the library next to an elementary school in Bay Lake. I happened to be riding by, catching the smell of smoke and hearing the cries from the kids trapped inside.

  Contrary to what Kat believes, I’m not a heartless bastard. Sure, I’ve made mistakes, but I wouldn’t ever do what I did to her again.

  Clang… clang. That’s the signal. I bump Cass’s arm for him to follow. Sprinting back across the lot we enter the fire door close to one of the security fences where the guard watches. The door opens with ease and we slip inside, the heavy door slamming behind us. “Okay, find the gas,” I instruct, walking toward a shipment container centered in the middle of the building.

  “What the hell?” glancing over my shoulder I find Cass bewildered at all the drugs these fuckers have.

  “Want some, Agent?” I tease.

  “I’m not an agent anymore.”

  “You’re right. You’re just hanging around until the club votes you in as Prospect. Hey, don’t let Kat smell that shit on you,” I say flipping the container’s lock and opening the door. The hinges whine in protest.

  “I’m not pledging.” He snorts and, opening the duffle he pulled from his jacket, he stuffs the bad full of blow mumbling under his breath. Something, something Narcotics, something, something fucking stupid. He acts like he hasn’t done bad shit in his life. I saw his rap sheet—his dad is patched and his mom’s an old lady. He knows how this shit works; they weren’t weekend warriors.

  “This isn’t a sorority college boy. You’re stuck.” I laugh, pulling my phone from my pocket, unlocking it for the flashlight. “All right!”

  Cass finishes filling the bag and makes his way over to where I am inside the container. “What is it?”

  “Ha-ha, found their supply. These are the dumbest fucking people I have ever seen,” I mumble, shining the light around the vast space.

  “Why would they leave everything unlocked? You don’t think this is too easy?”

  “Nah, when people like them think that they are untouchable, they leave ample opportunity for someone to come in and fuck e
verything up.” I spin on my heel in search of an accelerant. Cass pulls a flashlight from his pocket, switching it on so he isn’t left waiting in the dark.

  You know what would just… make my day? Locking the liar in the container and leaving him to the rats. That would surely solve one of my problems. The skinheads would kill him, and no one would even know. Except Nix, but he’s loyal to the club, to me. He’d undoubtably take a bullet.

  There are three gas cans under the stairs leading to the second floor. Grabbing the blue one first and unscrewing the cap, I dump the contents over everything from furniture to makeshift rooms they use for raping women, and then the ammo and guns stashed away in the corner.

  Tossing the empty can to the side I go for another, covering the entire side of another wall and all the bullshit they have lying against it, including new rides that look as if they’ve never even seen pavement. The third and final can is for the container. That’s what they spend the most of their earnings on, the drugs.