Revelators MC: Highway To Hell

by Britt Collins

  “Look assholes, older women know things that those young gash don’t know. Those bitches are too busy trying to take a damn selfie. Older women pay attention to your needs. You can learn a lot from and older woman.” Clutch continues to defend himself.

  “Did she leave her teeth in or take them out?” Utah bent over laughing.

  “Fuck you!”

  “Did she wear one of those Life Alert necklaces just in case she threw out a hip?” Mud Dawg kept on talking.

  “I hate both of you right now,” Clutch tried not to laugh.

  “Alright I think we need to continue this conversation away from the dead body.” Mud Dawg said as he strolls towards the door. “We need to get with Roland. Call the Chief and get this mess cleaned up before it paints a big ass arrow pointing right to our front door.”

  “You better call your girl. You won’t be making it there tonight!” Clutch grins.

  Mud Dawg grunts with a sigh as he took out his phone. ‘Babe, something came up, I’m going to be real late. Might be close to morning b4 I can get there’

  Two sad faces filled his screen as her response.

  ‘And no I’m not with a woman’

  ‘okay’ she replied.

  ‘STOP IT!’ He typed as he leans up against the van. ‘Get out of your head’

  ‘I like it there, everyone knows me’

  He smiled. ‘Go 2 bed. Be there soon!’

  ‘Alright, stay safe’

  Chapter Four

  You could have heard a pin drop in Angie Nail Salon. Everyone turns and focused their eyes on Chanel. Angie Williams, owner of the salon and Chanel’s childhood friend. She grabs the remote and turns the volume down on the television. “You went to that biker bar that? When? Why didn’t you tell me? What the hell Chanel? Bitch is you crazy?” Angie plops down in the empty seat next to Chanel. “Are you trying to get yourself raped and murdered? HUH? Is that what you want? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You know how much I’ve talked about him! I had to try,” Chanel replied. “It worked; it’s been two months today that we’ve been seeing each other.”

  “Two month, you’ve kept this secret for a whole month?” Angie glared at her. “You’re not old enough to have midlife crises yet so what is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing is wrong with me. I didn’t keep it secret; I just didn’t have time to fill everyone in on what’s going on. We’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

  “Chanel, you know that everyone thinks that the Revelators killed my uncle.” Monica calls over from the booth in the corner. “Rumor has it, Uncle Nikko is hiding out somewhere in Ohio with some woman. No one has seen him since Uncle Norton was found with a bullet in his head. My uncle was too scared to show up for the funeral, remember? His twin and he didn’t even show up to put him at rest.”

  “Yeah,” Chanel responded. “I know. I was at the funeral? That’s just Apache Grove gossip nothing more. People are either complaining about the Revelators or running to them for help. They can’t catch a break.”

  “There’s no honor among thieves. They turn on one another when it comes to the money,” Angie added. “Your uncles were into some deep, shady, shit!”

  Monica nods in agreement. “Rumor has it they stole some drugs from the Revelators. That’s why they killed him maybe both of them. No one has seen Uncle Nikko in a while. He might be dead for all we know.”

  “Mud Dawg didn’t kill anyone,” Chanel defended him.

  “Chanel,” Monica paused. “You don’t know what that man has done or is doing. Girl you’re walking on dangerous ground fooling around with that biker.”

  “He… he doesn’t seem like a murderer,” Chanel continued on.

  “He’s got creepy eyes. They’re dead like a shark! That much I do know,” Seville adds fuel to the fire. “Mud Dawg is a walking, talking Lifetime movie waiting to happen.”

  “Chanel chuckled. “Lifetime huh,” she laughs a bit harder as she thought about the comment.

  The other women in the salon began to laugh along with her.

  “He’s AMAZING though! He wakes me up by eating my pussy,” she giggles.

  “You’re just being nasty!” Seville pinches her face.

  “Damn right I am and so is he.”

  “He’s dangerous and violent. All of those bikers are,” Angie firmly states.

  Chanel cocks her head and arched an eyebrow before looking down at her nails. “You’re judging him without ever meeting him. That’s not fair. You wouldn’t want someone to do that to you now would you?” she looks around the salon. “Yet you think it’s alright to do it to him? You’re stereotyping him because he’s a biker.”

  “She made me promise not to say anything. Since she’s confessing and getting an attitude when she’s hearing the truth, you should know that she left out the part about how he broke into her house!” A mocking tone fills Seville voice when she spoke.

  “WHAT?”

  To Chanel it seems like the entire nail salon screamed at her. “It’s not like she said. He wanted to talk to me after what had gone down at the bar that,” Chanel replied.

  “What happen at the bar?” Monica questioned.

  “She didn’t tell yawl that either because she knows she’d up to foolishness. Her ass got shot at!” Seville stated.

  “Chanel!” Angie shakes her head. “Honestly, do you have a death wish?”

  “How do you think her car got fucked up?” Seville continued with the Mud Dawg bashing. “Forget the Lifetime; you’re going to end up on 48 Hours. Have people posting flyers, searching for you because of some foolishness. Why can’t you just screw him and be done with it? Why we’re telling it all,” Seville tore her eyes from Chanel’s cold hard glare. “She even lied to the insurance company, said her car was stolen,”

  Monica shook her head. “Two months with that man and you hiding stuff from your friends. I should call your mama down in Georgia.”

  “OH MY GOD! Stop being dramatic. I didn’t say anything because I knew this,” Chanel waves her finger in the air. “was going to happen. Don’t listen to Seville. It didn’t happen like she said it did. There was a drive by and we happen to be outside by my car. You know where that bar is located. It’s not the best neighborhood in the world.”

  “See, I told you, bad news, all of them! This is real life, not a book. Dangerous men do violent things. You’ve already been shot at,” Monica responds. “What more do you need to happen before travel further down the highway to hell?”

  “I thought they were all racist. Does his crew know about you?” Angie asked.

  “I went to Kickers, his crew,” she used quotation marks. “Was there and he’s told them about me. So try again with some more bullshit about him.”

  “Defensive aren’t you?” Monica asked.

  “Wouldn’t you be? All of you are acting like you’ve only dated nine to five, white collar workers. Let’s start with you Seville. What about Devin? Did he or did he not drain all of the money from your checking and saving account when he swiped your debt card from your purse? And you Monica didn’t Terrance, take your car and vanish for a week? Everyone saw him driving around town in your Altima with his other baby mama?”

  “She right,” Angie laughed.

  “Oh I aint done yet. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about your man. The one you’ve been messing aka wasting time with for the past eight years. He calls himself a business man, his ass sells knock off Jordan out of his trunk. You keep saying you’re his wife, ain’t no papers on that. You bought that damn ring yourself. Mud Dawg is a Revelator which I like and Kickers is a real business. Fuck, he’s even got real health benefits!”

  Silence sweeps across the room.

  “You don’t have to get mad about it, we just care what happens to you,” Angie frowns with a slight hurt pout to her mouth.

  Chanel didn’t speak for a few seconds. She felt bad that she had said what she did but they need to stop criticizing her man. “He has a huge
dick” she laughs, trying to take the seriousness of the conversation. “I keep damn near choking to death!” She wasn’t as foolish as everyone thinks. She knew that Eric Hardy aka Mud Dawg, the Revelators Road Captain has a dark side. How is she supposed to tell them that she likes it?

  Seville spun around in her chair. “You need an STD check! You know they fuck everything with a pulse.”

  “Seville, just stop before she gets mad for real,” Monica replied.

  “I know what I’m doing, trust me.” Chanel replied. “You’re all overreacting. I really like him, a lot and he says he feels the same way. It just feels right. I don’t know why, it just does. I feel good being with him.”

  “Chanel, you’re a smart, beautiful woman and we do trust you; we don’t trust the Revelators.” Angie grasps Chanel hand compassionately.

  Chanel sighed again. “Stop worrying.” She took her hand away and checked her nail polish.

  “Have you been to the clubhouse yet?” Monica ask.

  “No, he’s taking me there today actually.”

  “Why? I mean is it a party or something? I heard they get buck ass wild?” Monica continued on.”

  “No, he just wants me to see the place. There’s quite a few members I haven’t met. I mainly know his step-brother Clutch and I met this guy named Bone Saw and someone else. I can’t remember his name.”

  “Clutch and Bone Saw? They sound mean.” Monica made a sad face.

  “Clutch is kind of an ass but he’s alright. Bone Saw didn’t say much.”

  “Why?” Angie asked this time. “I heard that they, you know make women do things with everyone. The women have no choice in the matter.”

  Chanel shakes her head with a firm no. “He’s not like that with me. There is no way he would want or let some man touch me.”

  “Meaning what?” Monica asked. “Is he controlling?”

  “Mud Dawg is just Mud Dawg,” she laughed. “He’s a difficult man to explain but without a doubt there is no way he’s pass me around to other club members.”

  There was silence for a moment. “Does he know you a freak yet, huh?” Seville faked a smile; she didn’t want Chanel too upset with her. “Did you tell him you got your own set of handcuffs?”

  “He has his own set and he used them on me already,” Chanel laughed.

  “Ain’t nobody locking me up and I can’t get loose. Nope. I don’t like feeling like a hostage. That’s not erotic.” Angie nods, agreeing with herself

  “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

  “Chanel… shit, I don’t even know what to say. You’re a grown, woman. You’re not going to listen anyway. You know what? I don’t want to keep talking about him. We need to go out and party; bond and get our drink on,” Angie laughed. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a girl’s night out. There’s this hot, club called Archangel. I’ve gone there a few times. I like it a lot,” Angie said. “We all need to go.”

  “I heard about that club” Monica replied.

  Chanel nods in agreement. “Sounds like fun. When do you want to go?”

  “What about tonight?”

  Chanel shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know. I can text you later.”

  “Hey, I have a question or two. Why are they called the Revelators? It sounds like they would be one of those religious motorcycle clubs instead of who they really are.” Dymin the owner of the hair salon next door asked. She’d sat quietly listening to the drama unfold. Personally she thought Chanel and her life with the biker sound interesting. She should have been more been more outgoing. She’d stayed in a loveless marriage for twenty-years. Thank goodness she’d finally found common sense two years ago and gotten a divorce.

  “Back when the club was founded; the original club president was an ex-preacher. When he came back from Vietnam, he wasn’t the same anymore. War changes people some for the better, some for the worse. He was disheartened by the war, by the government and by religion because of the things he saw. Joey, that’s his name. He began connecting with others through a program at the VA. All of them loved to ride motorcycles and they stood for the same things. So they formed the Revelators.”

  “How do you know all of this?” Monica probed.

  “Mud Dawg, Wikipedia and the Revelators website,” Chanel winked.

  Once again everyone in the nail salon stared at Chanel. She grimaces. “Did all of you seriously think as long as I’ve been lusting after him I didn’t read up on his club?”

  No one replied.

  “Anyway, according to the website the club stands for a brotherhood among men. Honor among men, Loyalty and respect among men.”

  “What about all of those sluts that hang around the club stand for?” Monica sent out a reality check question. “You know those bitches that probably screwing him right now!”

  Chanel sighed and held back her frustration. “Well, for that info I asked Mud Dawg and…”

  “Do you call him Mud Dawg when you’re screwing?” Monica continued with the bantering.

  “I tend to just moan and scream when he’s laying the pipe hard and dirty. Anyway, I also asked Mud Dawg some question. He told me that the women have to be willing to do whatever is needed to help keep the club afloat. The women need to be devoted; they had to believe in the men of the club and what they stand for. They’re called True Believers. These are the wives, girlfriend, aka the Ol’Ladies. The so called groupies or club whores are called Bunnies.”

  “So what are you considered to be, a True Believer?” Dymin asked.

  “She’s just considered to be delusional,” Angie responds with a chuckle.

  “I’m his girlfriend so I guess I am a True Believer. A True Believer in training,” she laughs.

  “Yeah, his girlfriend while his dick is in you. Then he goes home to his real True Believer. You know the one he claims he doesn’t have.” Seville sucked on her teeth.

  “I’ve been to his apartment; he lives above Kickers. He owns the whole building. He’s not with someone.”

  “Why do you believe he doesn’t have a woman?” Monica asked.

  “Because he said he doesn’t. Plus, tonight he’s taking to the clubhouse. If he was married or had a girlfriend, he wouldn’t do that.”

  “Why are they called Bunnies?” Dymin ignored everyone else and their rant.

  “He said that it’s because they get so many of them. They multiply like rabbits,” Chanel answers with a forced smile.

  “Sounds like a cult to me!” Seville adds as she blows on her bright yellow nails.

  “Yeah you’re not one of them so you are a True Believer,” Dymin is genuinely interested. “This is fascinating to me. It’s like you have the inside scoop on a secret world.”

  “I guess I am. He’s also an officer in the club.”

  “They go by rank right?” Dymin continued on.

  “Yes, he’s the Road Captain.”

  Dymin nods, “Why do they have the number eighteen all over their stuff?”

  “It stands for Revelator. The letter R is the eighteenth letter of the alphabet.”

  “Chanel, I have to admit, you’re pretty bad ass. That took some balls to walk up in that biker bar all alone,” Dymin laughed. “If I had your guts, I wouldn’t have stayed in a bad, loveless marriage for so damn long. I don’t blame you one bit for going after that man. Screw these bitches” she laughed. “If you want that man, go for it. You only live once. I'd appreciate it if you could hook a sista up. I want me a boy toy biker, in some leather, I’d ride him and his Harley so hard he won’t know what hit him!” Dymin laughed hard.

  “Oh Good Lord, we have two of them!” Monica shouted.

  Dymin shooed her. “I would love to see what the inside of their clubhouse looks like. I’ve led a very boring life.” A haunted look filled Dymin eyes. “I need to start doing crazy stuff too, take some chances and enjoy life more. Hell, I’m only thirty-eight.”

  “Quit lying you’re forty-two!” Angie chuckled.

  Dymin flipped her off w
ith her perfectly manicured nail.

  “I’ll talk with my man and see if he can hook you up with one of his club brothers!” Chanel grins.

  “HELL YEAH!” Dymin waved her hand in the hair.

  “Don’t encourage her,” Angie shakes her finger at Chanel.

  Chanel winked at Dymin, “Don’t worry, I got you!”

  “You really like this guy huh?” Dymin asked.

  “Yep!” Chanel beamed. She held up her hands. “Look, Revelator colors, black and green!”

  Chapter Five

  Mud Dawg looks up from the hood of his truck when he heard the door to the garage open. He let off a line of curses as soon as he saw the look on Vultures face.

  “The fucking clubhouse better be on fire!” Mud Dawg grumbles. I got work to do on my truck and I need to head over to Kickers; Chanel is meeting me there in a few hours.”

  “We got trouble” Vulture the Revelators Sergeant at arms informed him.

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Someone stabbed Liam. Roland wants you and Pontius to go over there.”

  “Why can’t you go?”

  “Because I’m not!”

  Mud Dawg grumbles, “Fine, I’ll leave in a few minutes.”

  ***

  Mud Dawg didn’t know if he was relieved or pissed off when he walks into the stash house. Liam sat in a chair, bleeding from a knife wound to his just slightly below his right shoulder. It isn’t a serious wound, but more importantly is the blood seeping from his nose. It wasn’t from being punched. Asshole is snorting coke while on guard duty.

  “Who the hell got at you?” Mud Dawg asked Liam

  “I don’t know” Liam replies as he lit a cigarette and took a long drag.

  Mud Dawg shot a look over to Pontius whom is just now walking in the door.

  Liam wipes the blood from his nose with the bottom of his stained, blue tee shirt.

  “Was this a pissed off husband?” Mud Dawg asked as he began searching around the room.