The Rage

by Jaci J.

  The party is off to a wild start. The music is loud and the crowd is even louder. Getting a new brother is cause for celebration, but getting two, especially nomads, is worth a party of epic proportions.

  The drinks are strong and smoke of all kinds is heavy in the air. Standing by the pool table, I watch Lala like some sort of sick fuck, staring at her every chance I get. She’s layin’ low, staying with Cali and Lil. Trigger, a brother from another chapter, is standing with the girls, clearly staring down their fucking shirts. Lala starts to laugh at something he says, and I’m not liking that shit at all.

  “Eye fuckin’ her, man?” Tags laughs. Yeah, so what?

  “And?”

  “And nothin’, brother. She’s a woman worth eye fuckin’, that’s all. So… she okay? Heard the bitches yappin’ ‘bout it.”

  “I guess so.” Fuck, I don’t know. She sure as shit acts like it.

  “You find out who did that shit ‘n ya wanna handle it? Just say the word and I’ll be right there with ya, brother.”

  “Yeah, Tags. Thanks, brother.” That shit is all family right there.

  I’m thinkin’ my words sunk in ‘cause Lala looks relaxed and at ease. I hope she knows she’s safe here. Wild shit happens daily around the club. We’re crazy, and most of us can be mean as fuck, but we would never do shit to hurt a woman or child. That shit that happened to Lil was fucked and isolated. It was beyond fucked, really. That sort of shit will never happen again. If you come into this club as a friend, you stay a friend as long as you’re straight, and I don’t see Lala as the type to fuck that friendship up.

  ****

  “You want another drink?” Lala asks as she walks up to me a while later.

  Shaking my head, I point at the bartender, “Nah, babe, she’ll get it. You want somethin’?”

  I’m shocked as shit when she snakes her arm through mine and rests her hand on my forearm. She looks over to the long line of bottles to the side of me, pressing herself closer to me. She is all kinds of fuckin’ distracting.

  “Hmm…. I’ll have what you’re havin’,” she says sweetly. With that, she snatches the shot from my hand, gives me a sneaky smile, and throws it back. Little shit. I’m starting to see why Lil and Lala are such good friends.

  Having her this close and flirting with me does strange shit to my head. I’m so focused on her lips that I can’t remember what the fuck my name is or where I’m at. Her tight white t-shirt and those short black shorts are even more distracting. She has the most amazing long, lean legs. I just wanna grab them and wrap them around my waist, fill my hands with that perfect ass and suck on those big, beautiful round tits. I just can’t help that I want her so goddamn bad. It’s sick, really, but there it is.

  We sit there ordering drinks and she is right there, meeting me drink for drink, or just flat out stealing my shit. She can have whatever the fuck she wants as long as she looks happy and is having fun. Picking on me is keeping a smile on her face, so it’s all good.

  “You’re a thievin’ little shit. You know that, right?” She laughs and gets up to leave, but not before stopping and looking my way. You know what I do? I get up and follow her.

  Lala

  So far tonight I’ve met twice the people I did from the first party I came to. I’ve known Lil for a while now, and I’ve hung out with Peaches and Cali, whom I totally adore. I’m beginning to see some of the dynamics of the relationships here the more I come around. Gin and Peaches are a mess. They have that kind of relationship that scares the shit out of me, but it’s like a train wreck you just can’t help but watch. Cali’s man is Stitch. She’s just as crazy as Peaches, while Stitch talks a lot and laughs even more. He and Lil seem like the jesters of the club.

  Tank is the boss man, and along with Rampage and Gin, they seem to run the place. Even though I have known Lil for quite some time now, I don’t know shit about Tank personally. He doesn’t speak to me… at all. He always looks like he’s thinking too hard, or he just looks pissed. Those are the only looks I’ve ever seen on him, so I just smile and keep my trap shut. I’ve also heard little bits and pieces about Low, Lil’s Dad, but no one speaks openly about him and I don’t ask.

  I guess with the type of party this is, there are twice as many scantily clad women as the first time I was here. Lil said to ignore them. She said they show us respect, and if they don’t, I was to tell her, or one of the guys, and they’d be handled, whatever that means. As a whole, everyone seems nice enough, but with Rampage’s assurance that I’m safe here, I believe him.

  I’ve had quite a few drinks and I’ve eaten some damn good barbeque, then I went back and had a few more drinks. I want… no, I need to have some fun, even if it’s just hanging out and chatting with people. I just wanna forget for a few hours about how fucked up my life is, and the Hell’s Disciples seem like the perfect people to just hang out with and be myself around for a while. They’re good people. They’re a family. They treat me like I’m one of them, and no one treats me like an outsider.

  As I walk around, I start to feel a sway to my step. Those shots are starting to catch up. I’m not drunk, but I’ve drunk just enough to feel happy and carefree. I love that feeling, it’s just too bad it has to come from a bottle of alcohol.

  I ungracefully sit down next to Lil. Getting up and down is painful as fuck, but I just try to take it as easy as I can without giving anything away. The fact that I’m drinking helps with my bad balancing issues, so I have that in my favor. Lil gently leans into me and I lean into her. Neither one of us say a word, and I’m so thankful that she’s not pressuring me for answers right now. We sit and watch the party going on around us for a while when I spot a set of hammocks. They’re chained from the corner of the shop to a couple of big poles in the yard. I get this overwhelming urge to go over and lay in one.

  “Lil, can I sit in one of those hammocks?” Looking at the hammocks and back at me, she raises an eyebrow.

  “You’re seriously asking?”

  “Yes. It’s the polite thing to do,” I answer hesitantly.

  Rolling her eyes, she says, “You can use whatever the hell you want around here. Only a few things are off limits; Chapel, the guys rooms – unless you’re invited in. Their bikes – again, unless you’re invited on, and the locked door by the front door. Other than that, have at it, baby.”

  Slapping a kiss to her cheek, I clumsily try to skip my overly tipsy ass to the hammocks. I fight the twisted up mesh, but make it in alive and in one piece. Getting comfortable I lie back and push off, letting myself sway.

  Swinging back and forth, I stare at the stars for a while. The air is crisp, but nice, and the sounds of the Eagles’ Hotel California play through the air. Voices and laughter swim around the yard, fire casts shadows on the cinderblock walls. I’m really starting to think this might be a little piece of heaven. I finally feel like I can breathe on this little secluded island, made of concrete, steel, and cinderblock.

  “Sit up,” Rampage says from somewhere beside me. Rolling my head to the side, I stare at him standing over me. He seems calm and relaxed, but I shake my head no. I’m not giving my hammock up.

  “Not movin’ ya. Joinin’ ya,” he grumbles, giving my side a little nudge with his hip as he lifts an impatient eyebrow.

  “Fine,” I mumble, but I can’t stop the smile creeping across my lips.

  He shakes his head and sits his beer on the ground. I sit up, straddling the hammock with my feet dangling off each side. Throwing a leg over the hammock, he sits himself behind me. His head rests on the high end and I’m sitting in between his legs.

  “Lean back, Lala.”

  Wrapping an arm across my shoulders and over my chest, he pulls me back. Sticking a leg off the hammock, he gives it a good push, making us sway back and forth. He keeps his arm wrapped around me while reaching down for his beer with the other.

  We swing. He doesn’t say anything and neither do I. I just enjoy the soft rocking and Rampage’s arm holding me close. Tilt
ing my head to one side, I hear his steady heartbeat. Pressing closer, I listen to its slow, even rhythm; soothing and comforting.

  “Never sat in this thing,” he grumbles out of nowhere. I’d sit in this thing all day, every day if I had one. Hell, I’d even sleep in it.

  “Yeah? Why not? I love these things.”

  “Figured they were Lil’s or somethin’. Guess I never cared enough to ask.”

  “Well, I’m claiming this one,” I tease.

  Throwing his head back, he lets out a deep laugh. “Whatever ya say, babe. You want it, it’s yours.”

  “You know, for a big, scary biker, you’re a fuckin’ push over.”

  “That shit’s only for you, Lala.”

  For what feels like hours, we swing and talk about anything and everything. Rampage points out different people, telling me crazy and hilarious stories about each and every one of them, then he tells me a little about himself. He talks vaguely about club life, but he loves talking about his bikes. He asks me questions about myself, but he keeps it light. He doesn’t ask the questions I know he’s dying to, but by this point, if he did ask, I might tell him. I feel so safe and comfortable here in his arms, and the thought of sharing my burden, just being able to say it out loud to someone else, feels like it would be a blessing, but I know I can’t. It wouldn’t be right, so I keep them to myself. I don’t accept fault or feel I deserve what happens to me, but life isn’t always fair, and I have no choice but to accept that. For now, all I can do is hope and pray that Ryan gets what he deserves someday, whatever that may be.

  “You like being in the club?”

  “Yep.”

  “Can I ask why?” I really want to know.

  “Why?” He repeats slowly.

  “Yes, why?” I repeat.

  Taking a deep breath, he’s quiet for a moment, “Because, babe. This shit is all I know. They’re my family. No matter what goes down in our lives, we look out for each other and got each other’s backs. You’re in the club, you’ve got more support than you could ever ask for.”

  To me, it sounds like the kind of family I’d always wanted, but I don’t tell him that. I just nod in return.

  Tank comes over, handing Rampage another beer. They do some strange guy eye contact, grunt, and chin lift thing. Men.

  “Ya goin’ to the rally this weekend?” Tank asks him.

  Rampage shakes his head and grunts, “Don’t think so.”

  Lil hollers over from her seat by the fire, butting in instantly, “Yes you are, Rampage. The whole lot of us are going, and that means you, too.” Rampage looks at her, then back to Tank and shrugs.

  Shaking his head, Tank grumbles, “Pushy little shit, ain’t she.”

  Lil proceeds to toss her empty beer can at Tank, missing him by a mile, “Imma slap the shit outta you, Lil,” Tank warns her.

  She just waves him off and laughs, then turns her attention back to Rampage, “You’re not goin’?”

  “Nah. It’s that family ‘n couples bullshit. I’m fine hangin’ out here.”

  “Rampage! If you bring Lailah, you would have a couple,” Lil adds from across the yard, sounding pretty proud of her solution. Tank glares at her and Rampage lets out an uncomfortable dry laugh, while I try not to squirm awkwardly.

  “Baby, shut it,” Tank yells back at her, “but yeah, brother. Bring Lala. If it makes ya’ll more comfortable, you two are friends, at least that’s what it seems to me, so I don’t see any issues. Go and have fun with the rest of us. ” Turning his attention to me, he nods encouragingly, “Ya wanna go, little girl?”

  “Well… I don’t know?” I shrug awkwardly. I’ve no fucking clue what a rally is.

  “You’re going, Lialah,” Lil adds, giving me a look.

  “I don’t know… Rampage?” I look for his opinion. This is his club, his thing. I don’t want to interrupt or intrude on something I have no business in.

  “You wanna go, Lala?” Rampage asks.

  I do. I want to get away, do something different and fun for a change, but I don’t want to intrude on whatever plans Rampage has. I especially wouldn’t want to ruin his time there if he’s looking to hook up with anyone.

  “Of course she wants to go. I can see that gleam of excitement in her eyes. We’re gonna have a fucking blast,” Lil squeals as she bounds up to us, smiling from ear to ear. Clearly, she has no intention of this going any other way but hers, “Isn’t that right, Rampage? It will be sooo much fun,” she adds, clapping her hands in excitement.

  Her enthusiasm is contagious. Tank scoops her up and throws her over his shoulder, done with the conversation, “Come on, ya pushy little shit.”

  “See you in the mornin’… ,” Lil calls as Tank starts to walk away with her.

  “Brother, Lala.” Tank nods back at us as he strides away with a laughing Lil.

  “Do you wanna go?” Rampage asks, bringing my attention back to him.

  “If you don’t want me to go, that’s cool. I really don’t wanna get there and cramp your style… ”

  “Nah. It’ll be cool, babe. Ya gonna go to a rally, this should be the one. It’s tame compared to most, and I’d rather be with you to keep an eye out for you.”

  “Then yes. I REALLY want to go.”

  Pulling me back into him and cuddling me closer, he says softly into my hair, “Yeah. I really want ya to go too, babe.” 5

  6

  Jameson

  Rampage

  Lying on this hammock with Lala is the only place I wanna be. I can’t even think of a better fucking way to spend my evening, except for fucking her, which I don’t see happening tonight. I wanna be right fuckin’ here with her. She makes shit feel so goddamn easy and natural. No pressure for shit, just happy to chill and enjoy each other’s company.

  I’m not sure what I’m doing with her, though. All I know is I’m losing my fucking edge. Lala does that shit to me. Being around her feels like there is no other shit worth worrying about, making me forget I’m a fucking asshole. The woman makes me soft. I fucking hate it, but in all reality, I like it. I feel so goddamn lost in her that I can’t see three feet in front of my face.

  Tank reminded me of that fucking rally, knowing damn well I had no intentions of going to the damn thing. A charity rally isn’t my shit. A lot of old ladies, kids, and families, concentrated in one area, is just too fucking much for me. Shit can still get crazy and it will at night, but for the most part, it’s the tamest of the other rallies we hit up.

  Lil is sticking her nose into shit that ain’t her business, but I have to admit, the thought of having Lala on the back of my bike, in my room, and in my world for the entire weekend has me fucking excited about it. I asked her if she wanted to go and that sweet ass smile said what I needed to know. She was down.

  “It’s getting late and I should probably get going,” Lala says. I was hoping I could lull her to sleep in the hammock, just so I’d get to keep her here with me tonight.

  Sitting up, she looks over her shoulder at me, “So, about tomorrow… are you sure you want me to come with you?”

  “Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” She gives me that pretty ass smile and nods.

  “What do I pack?”

  “Light. Shit that can fit on a bike, but enough for a few days.”

  She starts tapping a finger to her lips, staring at me, but right through me at the same time, completely lost in thought.

  “What should I wear?” she muses softly. If she’s asking me, I have no fucking clue. That’d be Lil’s area.

  “Clothes,” I tell her.

  Wrinkling up her nose, she just rolls her eyes.

  “Ya think? I was thinking everyone had to show up at these things naked,” she quips with that smart-ass mouth of hers, but that’s a real nice idea. Not sure I’d like all the attention it’d get her, but can’t say I hate the picture my mind conjures up of it, either.

  Scooting up and off the hammock, she goes to get up and leave. I hate the instant loss that settles
in my fucking gut like a sickness. I’m not ready to let her go yet.

  “Thank you for letting me hang out tonight,” she takes a step away from me and I notice she wobbles just a little bit. I’m pretty sure it’s a case of vertigo from swinging on the hammock and not the drinks, but I just found a way of keeping her here, and I’m gonna use it.

  “You’re not drivin’ anywhere, Lala.”

  Looking back she asks, “Oh? And why is that?”

  “You’ve been drinkin’.”

  She opens her mouth and I know she’s about to argue and suggest someone give her a ride, but I’m not doing it, and I’m sure as fuck not letting someone else take her.

  “Not givin’ you a ride, and don’t bother askin’ anyone else, cause it ain’t happenin’.”

  “Fine. Is it cool if I just crash on a couch?”

  “Not sleepin’ on a fuckin’ couch. You’re gonna stay with me tonight,” I want her back in my bed. Whether she’s naked and riding my dick or not, I want her in my bed.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Very fucking funny.”

  “I know, right?” She throws over her shoulder and laughs at herself. Turning on her heels, she marches away and I get up to follow that fine ass, heading straight to my room. She doesn’t say anything – she knows where to go.

  Walking down the hall behind Lala, Red comes out of nowhere and attaches herself to me. Fuck. This bitch has the worst fuckin’ timing.

  “I’ve been looking for you all night, baby. What do ya say we go to your room… “ she asks, glancing at my door and back at me. At that moment, Lala stops and looks back over her shoulder at me. I hold my breath and wait for the dirty look, the bitching, all that crazy shit women do, but I get nothing from her. Honest to God, she just looks at me like she’s waiting for me to tell her to go in or find somewhere else to hang, but she doesn’t look even remotely pissed. The thought of her thinking I would do something like that boils my blood. I need to get Red out of here before she does something to scare Lala away from me. “Go in the room, Lala. Shirts are in the second drawer, then get in bed.”