Devil's Girl: Dust Bowl Devils MC

by Britten Thorne

  But Viper was gone. "Business," one of the bartenders said.

  "Did he leave me anything?"

  "Not a thing."

  Fuck. I was starting to sweat. What was I going to do?

  "Hey. New girl. Ivy?" I bounced over to the booth, smiling shyly. The president of the club wanted to see me?

  "What can I do for you?"

  His handsome face took me in. He was tall, lean, and intimidating. I wouldn't want to meet this guy in a dark alley at night. He sipped a beer alone. "Where you from?"

  "Connecticut."

  "Far away. What brings you all the way out to the desert?"

  I shrugged. "Running." It was a summary of the truth. Somehow I knew those considering eyes would see through a lie.

  "Are you being chased? Anyone we need to worry about?"

  "No. He gave up by Kansas."

  "Good," he said, nodding. "Any drug habits? Vices? Other things we might need to know about?"

  I grimaced. "No drugs. God, no. But..."

  "But?"

  "Collections won't stop calling me."

  He laughed. The president of the motorcycle club laughed. I smiled along, unsure if this was a good or bad reaction. "We get a lot of ladies with a lot of problems passing through here, and you're the only one that led that conversation with debt." He brought his glass down to the table with a jolly slam. His eyes darkened, though his lips still twitched with amusement. "Ever been with a president, honey?"

  Why had that memory pushed its way into my head? Maybe because I missed the club so badly. I’d had no clue how good I’d had it.

  Sex with Bill had been a rough affair - a lot of athletic position changes, a lot of banging against the walls - but dammit, he'd enjoyed it.

  I looked up at the man fucking me with disdain. There was no enjoyment there, no fun. Sex for these guys was all about feeling powerful, feeling dominant, or just plain getting off. Fuck, even Gunner, who was all about power games, who liked to fucking choke me, would crack a joke once in a while. I would see barely contained fury in his eyes almost all the time. He wasn't a nice guy. But he wasn't like this.

  The balding man wouldn't meet my eyes. He stared straight ahead as he thrust in and out of my body. I might as well have not even been there.

  But he swore he would give me a hit when he had finished.

  I'd tried to hold out, to wait until Viper relented, or until the awful sick feeling passed. I didn't want it to come to begging strangers. But the manager and the girls couldn't - or wouldn't - help me out at all.

  What am I doing? What have I become? What the hell would Theo think?

  I thought of him constantly - his deep brown eyes, his muscled, tattooed chest. I pretended he was coming for me. I imagined he was hiding out there amongst the other men, waiting for his chance to snatch me up and take me away.

  I hummed a tune to myself as the man’s strokes became more ragged.

  "Shut up shut up shut up." He grunted heavily as he came. At least this one had enough brains to use a condom. I waited for him to dispose of the thing before bringing up what he'd promised.

  "We had a deal," I said, extending my arm.

  He hesitated. "Supplies-"

  "You promised!" I growled the words like an animal, teeth bared. "What kind of man breaks a promise?"

  He considered it for a moment before pulling the supplies from his coat with a muttered curse.

  The wave of relief I felt just watching him prepare the needle was the most frightening part of all.

  ◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙

  I looked out at the audience and despaired. How many shifts had I done? How many fucks, how many hits? I was unhealthy, and tired, and there was nothing pretty left. Why not just shoot me?

  I danced and scanned the faces of the crowd and dreamed of sleep. Blissful sleep, the kind where you drift off in warmth and comfort, just sinking into it, with no fear, no sickness, no sweating or tremors, the type where you never want to wake up.

  One face tickled something in my brain, raising an unbidden memory.

  "Take me for a spin?"

  The young man laughed and looked around. "Me?" I stood on the porch of the clubhouse and admired his motorcycle - black and chrome and impeccably clean.

  "Yeah, you. I've never been on one."

  He grinned. "Obviously, since you called it a ‘spin.’ You go for a ride."

  "Well?"

  He put on a mock serious face. "A girl's first ride is a special and sacred thing. You sure you want to do it with a lowly Prospect?"

  "Hell yes. Let's go!"

  Irish.

  I could have sworn that I saw his face hidden beneath a ratty old baseball cap.

  I finished my dance and rushed out to the tables as quickly as I could. He turned as I warily approached. Our eyes locked, and I felt like my heart seized up. It was him. Play it cool. Viper is watching.

  "Want a private dance, mister?"

  He nodded, looking like he was seeing a ghost. I led him to one of the booths and guided him into sitting in front of me. I danced close, slow and sexy, turning my body so Viper couldn't see me talking from his spot at the bar.

  "You found me," I breathed.

  “We've known where you were for a while. This place has been heavily guarded, though."

  "But they let you in?"

  "Stole an identity. The door guy didn't recognize my face, at least. Jesus, Ivy, are you okay?"

  I bit my lip. I couldn't answer that. "It's really good to see you, Irish. Open your pants."

  "What?" His jaw dropped.

  "If you want to keep talking, you have to fuck me. He's watching."

  "No! Are you crazy? Ivy..."

  I leaned in close, lifting my chest near his face. "It’s not like we haven’t done it before. Please. He'll make me stop dancing for you if we don't. He'll send me to someone else."

  He grimaced like he was in pain. "Shit. Fuck." But he unbuckled his pants.

  I slipped his cock free - it was nearly hard already, thanks to my suggestive dance moves. I gave him a few strokes and a reassuring smile, then climbed onto his lap, flipped my skirt up and impaled myself on his hardness.

  He groaned. "Thank you," I whispered. I took his hand and kissed his fingertips. "You're the only friendly face I've seen." Settling into a slow rhythm, I asked, "How am I going to get out of here?"

  He took a shaky breath. "We can't storm the place. We have to wait until they move you. We were afraid we were too late already, we've been hitting as many trucks as we could..." He wiped tears from my eyes that I didn't even know were there.

  "Everyone's looking for me?"

  He nodded. My heart swelled. They didn’t forget about me. I just have to hang on a little longer. "All I know is that they’re moving me to the east coast in the next week or so. That guy - Viper - he's obsessed with killing Theo. I doubt he'll leave here with him still alive."

  "Theo. Fuck, he's gonna kill me for this."

  I froze. My hands gripped his shoulders tight. Irish gently stroked my back.

  "He's been out of his mind over you," he said softly. "He'd tear this place apart with his bare hands if we weren't holding him back." A sad smirk quirked his lip up. "Dawn, too."

  I rested my head on his shoulder. My friends. Theo. I have to get back to them. "What do we do? What can I do?"

  He took off his watch. "I'm gonna put this in your hair. Er, sorry." He gently tugged my head back by my ponytail and planted his mouth on my neck. The warmth between my legs burned hotter at the touch of his lips. Sex with Irish had always been uncomplicated. Not wild enough for my tastes, but he was always quick to make a joke or laugh at his own expense. But now I'd had more than my fill of rough and crazy; his soft touch was a comfort, and I held his head to me as he wrapped his watch inside my hair tie.

  I pulled him up for a kiss, hungry and desperate, and began moving with more urgency in his lap again, his cock still rock hard and straining inside me.

  "Oh girly, I'
m so sorry. We're gonna get you out of here. But I have to go." He tried to push me away, but I clung to him and rocked my hips. He groaned. "What about Theo?"

  I laughed bitterly. "I'm fucking his sworn enemy for hits of H."

  "Fuck."

  "Give this to me, Irish. I don't know if I'll ever even see him again."

  His voice was fierce. "You will." But he obliged. He laid me out on my back along the booth's seat so we were partially blocked by the table, then climbed between my legs. He slid inside me with a slow, sure stroke.

  Then he smiled. "Dawn will kill me, too."

  I clapped a hand over my mouth. "She's finally realized that you exist?"

  He shrugged. "Still calls me Prospect. But yeah."

  "Oh, God. I can't even believe it." I drew him close and whispered, "Fuck me, Irish. She'll forgive you. We'll pretend this is that time at the bar, when we found that expensive bourbon and thought Nella wouldn't miss it."

  With a hand on my cheek and a thumb on my clit, he obliged. He picked up his slow pace and pounded into me, keeping his eyes on mine, and I pretended I was with him back at the clubhouse. He was more sure of himself now, working my sensitive button with gentle circles, slowly increasing the pressure even as his cock slammed home over and over. My friend.

  He kissed me as I came, muffling my soft cries, inhaling my staggered breaths, until he came, too, with a strangled groan.

  I stood and let him rearrange his pants. "Tell Theo I'm okay," I said, my voice small. "Don't tell him about Viper or the drugs. I don't want him to worry. I don’t want him to get reckless."

  He looked doubtful, but he nodded. "Just don't lose the watch." I walked with him part of the way to the front door, but broke off and joined Viper at the bar. I felt stronger. Braver. The troops are mobilized.

  "That took fucking forever," he sneered.

  "Kid couldn't keep it up," I scoffed. "Said I look like a corpse up close. Couldn't deal with it."

  He sat back and looked me up and down. "You could use a sandwich."

  I flipped him the bird when he turned his back.

  There was talk of moving me not long after. Viper complained that the heat on the place was too much. He talked about shutting the strip club down completely despite not having the authority to do so. At the very least he was sending "his girls" away, myself amongst them.

  I expected some sort of James Bond spy device in my hair for some reason. It wasn’t quite so exciting, but it was a pretty smart little gadget - a gps watch, the sort that runners used to track their speeds and distances. I'd have to upload my route - it didn't transmit it automatically. There would be a delay between the information I sent and my real-time location, but it would be close enough.

  The trick would be using it without getting caught.

  Viper had me brought to his room the day we were due to move. The euphoria of the drugs was wearing off but I wasn't feeling sick yet. "These Eagles have gone soft," he griped. "I'm going to have to take Theo out myself."

  "Your guys haven't managed to kill any of them?" He paced the tiny, windowless bedroom and didn't reply, which was answer enough.

  "Come to bed," I said. I splayed myself out on my side, leaning up on my elbow. Come and chat while you're vulnerable. Give me something I can use. The watch was tied tight in my hair - as long as I could keep him from tugging my ponytail apart, it was safely hidden.

  "We've got to get you in the van," he said, though he began to unbutton his pants.

  "Tell me how you'll kill them while I suck your cock," I said, my voice low and seductive. He approached the bed as he kicked his pants away, but I stopped him from climbing on. I took his soft member in my hand and stroked it, bringing it to life. "Tell me how you'll watch them die. Tell me." He hardened in my palm.

  He chuckled. "I'm gonna have to watch from afar."

  What's that supposed to mean? He groaned as I slid his manhood between my lips. It twitched and swelled as I slid my tongue up and down his shaft.

  I tensed when he placed his hand on my head.

  "I called in a specialist. The Devils, the Eagles, they're all too soft. This guy, he's a lone agent. He doesn't need any fucking club. He's the real deal."

  I let him slip from my mouth. "Sounds like someone I'd like to fuck."

  "You are the goddamn craziest whore I've ever had to listen to. Quit yapping."

  I pouted. "You were gonna tell me how'd you'd kill them."

  He thrust his fully hard dick at me, so I took it until my mouth once more and moaned around it, looking up at him with big eyes. He touched my head again. Heart seizing in my chest, I worked faster. I had nowhere else to hide the thing - no personal space at all, no purse, no pockets in any of my dance costumes.

  He'd need something to sate his cruel desires. I had to protect the watch. Forcing a wicked grin around my mouthful, I guided his hands to my neck.

  He got the idea right away. "No panicking and biting down," he said, "You'll be sorry."

  Releasing him for just a moment, I whispered, "I like it." Then I sucked him, hard.

  The feeling of my airway closing was a familiar one, but it took a moment to tamp down an intense wave of panic. I immediately regretted ever telling Dawn that I didn't trust Gunner. This was what real fear was. This was a man who couldn't be trusted to follow the most basic of social contracts, who wouldn't hesitate to kill a man or woman if the impulse struck.

  Think of Theo. He's fighting for you. He's waiting for you.

  Viper didn't let up the pressure until I dug my nails into his arms and squealed around his cock. His bitter laugh surrounded me. I'd barely taken a breath when he choked me again.

  Time stood still as I sucked him off. I was afraid it would never end. He grunted above me as he squeezed with bruising force, and all I could think was, finish fast, finish fast. His voice was husky when he spoke again. "I'm going to blow them up." I felt like ice invaded my veins. He chuckled and squeezed harder. "They'll never... Ah. They won't see it coming. They'll find our girls sitting on a stack of C4."

  I whined. Seeing stars, it was all I could do to keep going. His words were just noise. I was going to bite down. I was going to pass out...

  Finally, he exploded. The hot liquid spurted into my mouth, but I couldn't swallow. Fuck. I loosed my lips and let it pour down my jaw and onto the sheets.

  "Fucking slut. You're cleaning that up." I gasped and choked when he finally released my throat. Sweet, sweet air finally filled my lungs. As the oxygen hit my brain, so did the meaning of his earlier words.

  "You're going to blow me up?" My voice was hoarse and painful. He blinked as if he couldn't remember what he told me. Then he smirked.

  "No, honey, sorry. I want you waiting in my bed when I catch up. It'll be the van behind you." He patted my head. I tried not to flinch. Pushing my face down to the mattress, he said, "Now clean up like a good little whore."

  He flopped down across the foot of the bed as I licked up his mess. My mind raced. They'll be coming to me. They won't know which van. They'll be coming to their deaths. What the hell am I going to do?

  ◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙

  I was weak. A stronger girl might have chosen not to transmit her location. A stronger girl might have sacrificed herself.

  But they would die anyway. If they missed my little convoy, they'd catch another. The trap would find them eventually. I had no other way of warning them than to lure them right in.

  I was traveling with three other girls in my van. Viper's supporters and sympathizers were growing sparser by the day - likely one of the reasons for the relocation - so our only guard was our driver. They shot us up with dangerously large doses of some low-quality shit that left me drooling and borderline comatose. I wondered, one slow word at a time, how bad it was that I could discern the quality of the product used. Problem to solve later, I thought. The words were sluggish to form. We were out of the underground garage and on the highway before I completed the thought. I have a job to do.
<
br />   The van’s windows were tinted, but sunlight poured in through the windshield. All three of us exchanged glances with sloppy grins and vague grunts of satisfaction. I didn't even care that it burnt my eyes; I basked in it. I have a job to do.

  The driver was barely watching us. One of the girls kept nodding, waking herself back up as her head dropped, falling partway asleep again. The other kept her eyes out the window. What job? I scratched my head. My hair. I fumbled with my ponytail. I felt like I was moving through molasses, like my fingers were wrapped in cotton. I’ve been drunker than this. Twelve watered-down shots made me feel worse than this.

  I must have looked like I was concentrating too hard. The driver glanced back and asked, “What are you doing?”

  I froze. It took me a long moment to process his question. It took a longer moment to formulate an answer. “Spiders,” I whispered. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the road.

  My hair fell loose as I pulled the watch free. Quickly bringing it down to my lap, I stared at the numbers and the options surrounding the face. Lying in bed at night with just a dim lightbulb shining in the hall, I’d memorized the sequence of buttons I’d need to hit. I was prepared to operate it in the dark, or blindfolded, or behind my back. I wasn’t counting on my brain and body operating so slowly. I took a deep breath and pressed the first button.

  Beep! I jumped. I’d forgotten to muffle it. I looked up with alarm. The driver was still staring straight ahead. Thank God. Sweat tickled my forehead, and I’m sure my heart would have been racing if I was sober. I held my shirt around the back of the device and pressed in the rest of the sequence.

  It flashed the screen confirming that the information had been sent. Okay. Again in five minutes. And again and again until they find me. Assuming anything went right at all. There’s something else I’m supposed to remember. Thinking made me tired. If I just close my eyes for a second…

  My head jerked back, slamming against the headrest and waking me back up. “You can lean the seat back if you want to sleep,” the driver said. “Though you probably shouldn’t sleep right now.”