by Evelyn Glass
They tumbled into the floor as she arched her back, and he held her tight as they rolled until he came to stop on top, jamming his cock into her again. He grabbed her hands and pinned them to the floor as he fucked her, her punches and slaps starting to hurt. “You like that? You like my fat cock inside of you?” he panted, then grunted as he spilled himself into her. He pulled out then rolled to his back, pulling her with him before he once again forcing himself into her mouth.
Realizing it was almost over, she stopped fighting him, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible, knowing from experience after he came, he’d soon be asleep. She licked and sucked until he began to soften, then pulled back and gathered her clothes.
They dressed, neither speaking. As she stood, he pulled her to him to kiss her, more gently this time. She allowed it, even returned it, just wanting it to be over. It was the same ritual as the last couple of years of their marriage. Ten minutes of rough, sometimes painful, always unsatisfying sex, a kiss, then nothing. She knew what he wanted and she gave it to him to avoid experiencing his wrath again.
“Was it good for you, baby?” he asked.
“Yes,” she lied. “Was it for you?”
“Always.”
“I need to check on Riley.”
“Okay. I’m going to sit down for a few minutes and rest. You wore my ass out. But after that, maybe we can take him to the doctor.”
She nodded. She was treating him with regular doses of the Children’s Tylenol, and that was knocking the fever down which made him feel better, but the wheeze and cough still worried her. “Okay. When you’re ready, just let us know. We can be ready in ten minutes. Please, Leo, if you care about your son at all, you’ll do this for him.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said with a dismissive wave. “In a little while.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Why do we have to go?” Daisy asked as she and Riley prepared to go with Leo to the Cutthroats’ race. She didn’t want to go because she was still smarting from Dix’s apparent lack of concern and her concern for Riley.
Leo had finally made good on his promise and they had taken Riley to the doctor. As she expected he had the flu, bronchitis, and possibly a bacterial infection in his lungs. The doctor said she was doing the right things, but he’d prescribed a broad-spectrum antibiotic and an expectorant to help him along the road to recovery. Two days later he was noticeably improved but she still didn’t want to take him out in the damp night air and keep him up so late.
“Because I can’t find anyone willing to make sure you stay put,” Leo growled.
“If you take my car keys, where am I going to go?”
“Would please just shut the fuck up and do what I tell you! Jesus Christ, I don’t even know why I keep you around!” What he didn’t say was he was hoping having her there would throw Dix off his game.
“Ready!” Riley said, his toy motorcycles packed into his backpack.
“Okay, sweetheart. You ready to go see some fast motorcycles?”
“Yeah!”
“Remember, straight to the clubhouse. I’ll be behind you the entire way. If you so much as make a wrong turn, you won’t like what happens next.”
Daisy nodded. He hadn’t hit her again since he raped her on the couch, and she wanted to keep it that way.
***
It was dark and nearly nine when she pulled her Beetle to a stop in the overview. The area was full of motorcycles of every color and description, but what they all had in common was they looked fast. Damn fast.
Riley was sleeping in the passenger seat, his head lying on his backpack propped against the door. Her neck would break at such an angle, but his face was as peaceful as an angel.
Ten members of the Firechrome had congregated at the clubhouse, including Alex Pye. Once everyone was ready, they had convoyed to the race site, three bikes in front leading the way, the other seven following along behind. She would have never been able to keep up with her car running the way it had, but even so, any thoughts of escape were quickly dispelled when Leo would occasionally ride up beside her and look in through her side window. The thought of whipping the wheel to the left and punting him right off the road made her smile, but she didn’t, fearing the wrath of the other members.
“Are we there?” Riley asked, sitting up and blinking.
“Yes, baby. We’re here.”
“Can we look at the motorcycles?”
“Sure. But hold Mommy’s hand, okay?”
“Okay,” he chirped, as he unbuckled his safety belt and opened his door. She smiled as he crawled out of the car, slamming it behind him. He was growing so fast. It seemed like only last week they had brought him home from the hospital wrapped in a blanket, and now he was riding in a booster seat and getting in and out of the car on his own.
She took Riley’s hand and they toured the area, Leo or another Firechrome their constant shadow.
She stopped before the big display that had two columns of numbers, all reading zero. As she watched, men in riding armor stepped to the table where Palmer greeted each rider. Chuck and Jacob flanked him with their guns conspicuously displayed on their hips. The rider would give his name and Palmer would check a list on the computer. After finding the name, he’d accept a wad of cash from the rider. He counted it, twice, in front of the rider, then deposited the money in one of four cash boxes, sealed with a large lock. The rider would then draw a number from one of four glass fish bowls, Palmer would look at the fat chit that looked vaguely like a key fob, then type something on the laptop. He handed the chit back to the rider, the rider would step away, and the process would repeat with the next rider. She nodded at Chuck and Jacob, who nodded back, but their attention never left the table in front of them.
“Daisy?” Cale said as he stepped up beside her. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t have much choice.”
Cale glanced to Leo. “So I see. And who is this fine looking young man?” he asked as he knelt.
Riley tucked into Daisy’s leg, saying nothing, but his eyes were bright.
“Tell him your name,” she encouraged.
“Riley.”
“Riley?” Cale exclaimed. “I’ve heard a lot about you! Put’er there partner,” he said extending his hand. Riley took the hand, shook it, then buried his face in Daisy’s side. “Hey, you want to go see a really fast motorcycle?”
“We’re not here for a fucking party!” Leo growled as he put his hand on Riley’s shoulders.
Cale stood up and glared at Leo. “What happened to your face, Leo? And I noticed your bike was a little dinged up, too. Run into something you couldn’t handle?”
“Fuck you, you old cock-sucker,” Leo bellowed, shoving Cale.
Daisy picked Riley up and started to move quickly away, but five armed Cutthroats arrived in moments and began to muscle Leo away.
“What’s going on here?” Alex demanded as he strode up, several Firechrome following in his wake.
“Your man here got out of line. There’s one hard and fast rule. No violence. You touch another person, you’re ejected and you lose your entrance fee.” He looked at the security men. “Toss him out.”
“Wait a fucking minute!” Alex snarled. “He’s our entry against Dixon. You can’t throw him out.”
Cale glared at Alex. “I’ll give you this one, but you had better sit on him, and the rest of your men, too, because this is your only warning. It happens again, they’re out. Do I make myself clear?”
Alex glared at Cale. He didn’t like being talked to this way, but they were making a scene, and if they took over he didn’t want to scare off the money. “Got it. Get him out of here,” he growled.
When Cale nodded security released Leo with a shove.
“You touch me again and I’ll fucking kill you,” Leo snarled as he shook off the guards.
“Leo…shut the fuck up,” Alex said, as he turned and walked away.
“Let’s go, Daisy,” Leo growled as he reached for her.<
br />
“You touch her, or her son, and you’re out,” Cale warned.
“She’s my fucking wife!” he roared.
“Leo! Leave her alone! She’s not going anywhere,” Alex barked.
“We’re not done here,” Leo growled at Cale, but turned and followed Alex.
Cale watched Leo’s retreating back. “That’s what you think.” He then smiled down at Riley who was staring back at him wide-eyed. “Now, would you like to go see the motorcycle?” Riley stared a moment more and then nodded slowly. “All right, then,” he said giving the boy’s hair a tousle. “Follow me.”
Daisy and Riley followed Cale until she saw Dix. He was standing in his racing leathers, talking to Thad as he sat on his bike. “I can’t. He doesn’t want to talk to me.”
Cale paused and turned back to her, then looked at Riley. “See that man there, in the red and white suit? He rides the fastest motorcycle you have ever seen. You want to see it?” When Riley nodded, Cale looked at her. “Don’t disappoint the boy.”
“Dix,” she said softly as she stepped up.
He turned at her voice. “Daisy,” he smiled, then looked down. “You must be Riley,” he said brightly as he crouched down, not wanting the scare the boy. The last time they met, her father had told him he was a bad man.
Riley nodded.
“He wants to see the fastest motorcycle here,” Cale said with a smile.
“Is that so?” Riley nodded again. “How would you like to sit on it?” He chuckled as Riley’s eyes got big. He picked him up. “Okay, but you have to promise to bring it back when you’re done riding it, okay?”
“I will!”
He stepped to the front of the McGhee Recycling truck and sat Riley on his bike. “Careful, okay? It’s got a lot of power.”
Riley stretched for the handlebars he could barely reach.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” he said, turning his attention to Daisy. He looked at the bruise on her face. “I’m sorry about your face.”
She looked at him as her brow wrinkled. “Leo did this.”
“I know. I should have known that weasely shit would lie to me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Those marks on Leo’s face. I gave him those. I came for you, and when I caught him I made him tell me where you were. Except he lied. Did you used to live in the Greenwood Apartments?”
“Yeah. A few years ago. Why?”
“That’s where he told me you were. I should have killed him when I had the chance.”
“You came for me?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I didn’t know! You sounded so…upset. Like you didn’t care.”
“Did you mean what you said?”
“No!”
He smiled. “Neither did I. But I assumed Leo was listening.”
“He was.”
“So I told you what he wanted to hear.”
She sucked on her lip so she wouldn’t cry. “I thought you didn’t care and didn’t want to see me anymore.”
He shook his head then nodded at Riley as the boy made motor noises. “Later,” he said, then gave her hand a squeeze.
She swallowed her tears. “Okay. I found who you’re racing against just now.”
“Who?”
“Leo.”
He chuckled. “Are you kidding me? He’s slow as…can be,” he said, changing his sentence at the last moment in deference to little ears. “I’m not impressed with the intelligence of the Firechrome leadership.”
“I’m not impressed with the Firechrome,” she added with a smile. With his promise to talk later, she felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her.
“May I have everyone’s attention,” Cale said over a portable loud speaker. “Has everyone who’s going to race registered and picked up their timing chit?”
“Time to go,” he smiled. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go watch some racing,” he said as he picked Riley up and set him on his shoulders before walking to the knot of people standing under the lights.
“Okay,” Cale continued. “It looks like everyone has registered. Neil, kill the lights.” There was a pause then the overlook plunged into darkness.
“I want to welcome everyone to the fifteenth annual Green Hell Motorcycle Race!” He paused while people clapped. “I know most of you have been here before, but for those who haven’t, let me give you the rundown on what’s happening tonight,” Cale began.
“First, we’ve turned all the lights out to give our riders eyes some time to adjust to the darkness. Please, only small flashlights from this point forward until the races are over.
“Second, this is the leader board. It gives the top three finishing times,” Cale said as he moved his hand down the display. “We time to the thousandth of a second...minutes, seconds, and thousands,” he said as he moved his hand along. Cale then pointed to another board. “Over here’s the running board. It is timing the riders on their run. Each rider’s time will be displayed by his starting number.
“Third, we send out riders at two minute intervals, so when your class is up, please line up according to your starting number. Your starting position will be displayed on the board by the start light,” Cale said, pointing to a third electronic board beside the track. “If you’re not in position when the light goes green for your run, that’s considered a DNF, and your race is over.”
“What’s a DNF?” Daisy asked.
“Did not finish,” Dix replied.
“Fourth,” Cale continued. “Except for the unlimiteds, you have to ride your bike here and then back to Douglas. Obviously you made it here, but even if you finish in first place, if your bike can’t make it back to Douglas, that, again, is a DNF.
“Fifth. We run the classes in this order. Under six hundred, six hundred to seven-fifty, over seven-fifty then the unlimiteds. There will be a thirty-minute break between classes to give the track time to clear, but we will begin queuing bikes for the next class as soon as the last rider is away. Please, be ready to take your place in line at that time.
“Sixth. Payout of the winnings will occur at Dunes Bar and Grille at ten tomorrow morning. If you want to get paid, be there, otherwise we spend your share paying everyone else’s bar tab. Seriously, be there. We’ll hold your winnings for thirty days, but after that we consider them forfeit. Oddly enough, nobody has never not shown up.”
Cale waited while the chuckle rumbled through the crowd. “Anyone have any questions?” When there were none, he continued. “Okay, that’s all the official business. If you have any questions or problems, just ask one of the men you see in the Cutthroat jackets and they can help you. There’s one more item of note. Tonight, after the unlimteds run, we’re going to run a pair of Harleys over the track. Wait, wait,” he called as people laughed. “It’s a heads up grudge match between our very own Dixon Montague and a member of the Firechrome Motorcycle Club, Leo Watson, in a winner take all event. Stick around for that, it should be interesting.”
“And slow!” a voice called from the crowd, making everyone laugh again.
“What’s he doing?” Daisy hissed.
“Putting it on record to pressure the Firechrome into living up to their end of the bargain.”
“Okay, anything else?” Cale asked. “No? Okay, Eddie, line ‘em up. Let’s go racing!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Dix slapped Thad on the back as he rolled to the start. The moment his light went green he’d be off. “Thad, you copy?”
“Five by five,” Thad said.
“How you feeling?”
“Great!”
“You got this. Nobody is even close to your best time. Thirty seconds,” Dix said, then went silent. He wouldn’t speak again unless Thad spoke to him first. Thad raced in the under six hundred class and would be number nine on the track tonight.
Thad watched the numbers spinning down on the timer. At one second he redlined the bike and dumped the clutch, crossing the timing light on the back ti
re three one-thousandths of a second after the light went green. Dix shook his head. Nobody had a faster launch than Thad.
They had five intermediate timers set up on the track. The first was at Porter, where the riders cross Porter creek following a hard right that leads into a long stretch with a series of left and rights that could throw off a rider’s rhythm with ease. Next came Knife, a fast right with a nasty bump in the middle that had put more than one rider in the weeds when the bike unloaded over the bump. Up next was Kink, where the riders have to make a sharp, near one-eighty, turn. Taken in first gear, this was the slowest corner on the track and where most races were won or lost. After Kink there was a long run on a relative straight before a series of turns that made the track look like a boot heel, hence the marker’s name: Boot. After Boot was Finger, the second slowest turn, another near one-eighty but this time to the left, a corner that had caught out many riders because of the sudden tightening of the radius in the middle of the corner. The final timing mark was Wiggles, a series of high-speed turns near the finish that a good rider could take flat out, but if you were behind at Wiggles, very few could make up any time in the final half-mile to the finish.