2
Izzy
It was late at Durango’s as I wiped down half the bar for the fifth time that night. I jumped and spun around after another man grabbed a handful of both my ass cheeks. I didn’t even see him come over to my side of the bar. He was tall and wide, swaying side to side, his eyes not even focused as he chuckled.
I slapped him across the face. He swiveled his head back to me, his eyes finally focused, and his dark, brows knitted. “You like it rough, huh, bitch?”
His huge hands grabbed my arms, and I tried to jerk away.
“The girl works the bar,” said another man’s voice, “It’s my MC’s prize winnings tonight, Crank. And your club didn’t win jack shit. Walk.”
I turned in the direction of that deep voice and swallowed the lump in my throat. The man was menacing—he was bald and had a long dark beard, longer than how most men grew them. He wore a leather vest, rags, or colors as most diamond clubs called them.
I watched Crank as he walked back from where he came, lifting the latched door across the bar, and disappeared into the swarm of MC patches and leather.
I spun around and faced the bearded biker. He stared at me, and a strange tingle shot down my spine. “The fucking bar and money are your club’s winnings. Not me!” Words like that sometimes got me into trouble and a bloody lip.
The side of his mouth lifted with an arrogant smirk instead. “You better watch how you use that pretty mouth of yours, darlin’, or you could get hurt. Bad.”
I then noticed the rectangle patch across the front of his rags spelled President above the patch Stryker. My face flushed, turning a shade of pink. “Sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“You get a free pass this time.” He lifted his eyes to the bar shelf behind me. “Pour me a glass of some good bourbon you got back there. Not that cheap shit either.”
I turned to the liquor display, and tiptoed, reaching up to the third shelf for the good bourbon, feeling his eyes roam over my ass. I poured him a glass and offered it to him.
He reached, touching my fingertips with his calloused thumb, taking the glass, and turned his back to me. Just another cocky biker, but what did I expect when I’m surrounded by them day after day?
As the night wore on, the bikers became rowdier and more belligerent, whooping and hollering and cussing. A nauseous feeling hit the pit of my stomach as I walked down the dark hallway, entering the back office. My younger sister, Marie, sat in a rickety chair, petting one of the stray cats that meandered around the trash dumpsters out back. Her eyes were glued to the black and white television, watching some comedy show.
The cat hissed and bounded off Marie’s lap and darted past me out the door. She was out of her chair. “No! Don’t go, kitty cat!”
I realized then how much Marie’s body had changed since she became pregnant. Her figure was more filled out, and her breasts had gotten larger. She had to wear maternity clothes too.
I huffed, straightening out the room. “You shouldn’t touch those cats, Marie. They’re infested with fleas and have diseases.”
Marie sat back down in the chair, folding her arms over her chest, and pouted as she always did when she didn’t like to be told what to do. “Those cats never hurt me, Izzy! And why do I have to sit in this room all by myself? I want to go home.”
“I have to work tonight, and I didn’t want to leave you at home alone.”
Marie disappeared one night from this room and went missing for two days. I drove through neighborhoods in two counties searching for her as our mother, and her father, Jeb, were on a weekend bender of booze and coke.
She was left naked on the front steps of our trailer home in the middle of the night. She was in shock and wouldn’t speak for weeks. She was innocent of any hate and had not one evil bone in her body. The only flaw she was born with was her mental and learning development and disabilities, which affected her emotions. And what monsters in our world preyed upon. I bathed her bruised body and held her all night as she cried.
She sobbed in my arms and told me that the men who raped and beat her wore vests with patches. She had the reading level of a ten-year-old child, and couldn’t spell the words that were on their patches, only that one word sounded like sister. And that’s when I knew it was the Sinister Creed MC. A few weeks later, Marie complained that she had the flu and couldn’t eat anything. I found her vomiting in the toilet, so I bought a home pregnancy test from the drug store. The double red lines on the white plastic stick stared back at me as Marie’s eyes lit up.
“What does the stick say, Izzy?”
I swallowed the hard lump in my throat. “It tells that you’re going to have a baby, Marie.”
“Uh. Ok.” Marie’s face showed no emotion, only confusion as her brows knitted. I choked back tears as I wrapped my arms around her as if I could protect and erase all the horrifying things that were done to her.
As I looked at her now, my throat ached. I woke up every morning in a cold sweat with feelings of dread. I planned on running away someday and taking Marie with me. And as her belly grew, week by week, I knew the time would soon come that I had to set things in motion.
Marie began to rummage through the brown paper bag, bringing me back to the present and pulling out a sketch pad and colored pencils. “It’s ok, Sis. I can doodle tonight, and when you’re done working, we can go home together.”
My heart lifted as I watched Marie sit at the old rusty metal desk and open the box of colored pencils and sketch pad. “Will you show me later?”
She looked up at me and smiled back “Sure!”
I strolled back out of the office and slammed face first into a hard chest. The man’s huge hands gripped my forearms. “Dammit, bitch!”
It was the mean looking MC President. I stood there frozen and couldn’t breathe. His eyes pivoted to the entrance to the office. “Who do you have hiding in there?”
“I, uh…” I stuttered as he moved around me. “Just my sister!”
The man stepped into the office. He was tall and broad, taking up most of the doorframe. Marie looked up from her sketch pad. She leaped out of her chair and screamed. I shoved him, but he didn’t move as I went to Marie. She clung to me sobbing.
The man’s brow knitted together making him look even more menacing. “What’s wrong with her?”
I glared at him, seething with anger. “She’s frightened of men like you!”
“Why the fuck is she in here?” he barked.
“She’s my sister! Jeb is her father…”
“As long as she stays in this room, she won’t get hurt.”
“Would you please leave us so I can calm her?”
“You got one minute. Then I better see your ass back out there behind the bar.” He turned to leave.
“My name is Izzy, you big, dumb—”
He stopped, pivoted his head and glared at me, his eyes dark and intense. My heart skipped a beat, and my mouth went dry. I couldn’t speak. He turned and left.
I held Marie close, calming her as my eyes focused on the black safe behind her. It sat in the corner of the room, piles of paper and empty beer cans on top of it. I knew the combination to that safe, which held twenty-five thousand dollars.
3
Stryker
By 2 a.m., we cleared out all the MC’s, gamblers, and club whores from Durango’s. It was dawn; the sunlight was coming through the crack in the drapes as I lay in the creaky bed in a shitty motel room.
I shut my eyes and images of that spunky little bitch, Izzy, flooded my mind. She had a nice ass, even with that smart-ass mouth of hers. But I was pissed, finding her sister sitting in the back room with my club’s cash sitting in that safe. Squatch gave one of our prospects the job of watching over the safe until morning. Then we planned on rolling out on our bikes back home.
I was just about to drift off to sleep, when my pager vibrated, moving across the nightstand next to the bed. I slammed my hand over it and looked at the digital number. It was Tug,
with the three-digit number – 911. I climbed out of bed and got dressed. I left my room and banged on the door of the room next to mine. Ajax opened it, all sweaty, butt naked, cupping his dick and balls with one hand. A blonde-haired club whore laid naked in his bed lighting up a joint.
I leaned in, looking over his shoulder to check out her huge tits. “Put your dick away. There’s a situation at Durango’s. Tug sent me the 911.”
“Give me two minutes. Prez.”
Ajax shut the door, and I walked over to my panhead parked right outside my room. I climbed on and started it as Ajax came out of his room with the blonde. They climbed on his shovelhead, and we rolled out.
Ten minutes later we entered Durango’s to see Squatch and Tug laughing at the prospect. He stood hunched over, coughing, both his hands holding his crotch. “The little cunt kneed me in my fucking balls, man!”
Squatch reached out and slapped him on the back of the head. “Shut up, prospect. You fuckin’ deserved it!” Then he looked at me. “The prospect caught the girl red-handed. She was pulling out the cash from the safe.”
It could’ve only been one of Jeb’s daughters. “Where is she?”
“She’s down in the basement, strung up with a little bit of rope and duct tape.” Squatch chuckled. “Prospect was working on stripping her, but she racked his balls.”
I moved passed Squatch and headed to the stairs leading down to the basement. Ajax was right behind me, but I turned. “Stay up here, Ajax. I’ll check her out first.”
It was dark as I descended, my boots thudding down each step. I rounded the corner and saw her, standing under a ceiling light. Her back faced me, and her arms were raised above her head. Her wrists were duct-taped together and strung up with some thin, worn-out rope wrapped around a wooden beam above her. Her head slumped to one side, and I heard her sniffle and hiccup as I approached.
I stood only a few inches behind her. When I placed my hands on her waist, I realized just how small and helpless she really was. I leaned down next her ear. “Shh. It’s me, Stryker.”
She jumped and screamed, struggling against the binding of duct tape.
I tightened my grip on her hips. “Stop struggling! I’m not going to hurt you.”
She went still and whimpered. I moved to stand in front of her. Both her T-shirt and bra were ripped open. She had nice, perky tits, and her nipples were hard.
I tilted her chin up. Her lip was cut and bleeding. She was puffy around the eyes from all the crying. Then her brows knotted as she looked at me, her eyes full of both fear and anger.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You tried to steal my money, little bitch?”
“Fuck you!” she barked then flinched, waiting for me to backhand her across that mouth. But I didn’t, only because I got a kick out of her feisty attitude.
“Jeb is on his way here. Did he know you had the combo to the safe? Looks like it was all planned out between you and your dear old dad.”
“He’s not my dad!”
“Oh yeah. He’s your sister’s dad. Marie is it? How about I have my brothers go fetch Marie and bring her here? Together as one big happy fucking family!”
She struggled again, jerking on the electrical cord. “No! Leave Marie alone! She’s just a kid! This was all my idea!”
“It was, huh?”
“Yes! I’ll do anything you want.”
I grinned. “Anything?”
“No! Uh. I mean, yes. Anything. Just don’t hurt Marie. Please. She’s pregnant.” Tears streaked down her cheeks as she dropped her head down and sobbed.
Izzy looked defeated, vulnerable. I should’ve just stripped her naked and fucked her right there, just to teach her a lesson. Then she’d regret the choice she made to steal from my club.
I pulled out a buck knife from my back pocket and sliced through the worn rope above her. When her arms dropped, I sliced the knife up between her wrists, cutting her loose from the duct tape.
Izzy gasped as her mouth hung open, and she covered those pretty tits with her arms. She stepped back. I stepped toward her. “Don’t do anything stupid!”
I shrugged off my rags, laying it on a table. Izzy stood still, her arms still crossed over her chest. I pulled my T-shirt off and tossed it to her. “Wear this for now.” I pulled my rags back on and grabbed a rusty metal chair, banging it on the cement floor. “Sit! And don’t open your mouth unless I tell you to.”
She pulled my T-shirt over her head and slid her arms into it. It was way too large, falling past her shorts. She sat in the chair and crossed her arms, her lips set in a straight line.
I snatched a black duffel bag off the table that I figured was hers and dumped the contents out on the table. It was just crap that all bitches usually carried—lip gloss, tampons, keys. But no cash. I found her wallet and dropped the bag, then pulled out her driver’s license.
Izabella Hawkins.
The sound of thudding boots descended down the stairs to the basement. It was Squatch, fisting the back of Jeb’s shirt collar, shoving him toward me. Ajax followed behind, with a firm grip on the arm of Izzy’s sister, Marie. She was barefoot, dressed only in a nightgown. She screamed, jerking her arm from Ajax and ran and dropped to her knees at Izzy’s feet and clung to her.
“What are we doing with them, Stryker?” Ajax grumbled.
Jeb was doped up, as usual, wiping his arm across his nose, his movement jerky. “What the fuck, man?” His bloodshot eyes pivoted to Izzy. “What the fuck did you do, bitch!?” He backhanded her across the face and Marie screamed again.
I moved quick, fisting the front of his shirt and shoved him against a brick wall. “You hit her again, and I’ll bash your fucking skull in!”
Jeb’s eyes were wide, trying to push me off him. “Whatever she did, it’s all on her, man!”
I let him go and stepped back. My jaw clenched as I looked at Izzy, clinging to her sister, crying. I walked over and leaned down to look into her eyes. “Do you know what happens to people who steal from my club?”
Her lips were set in a straight line, but there was still fear in her eyes. “No, what? Are you all going to take turns raping me?”
“No!” Marie yelped.
“You get a bullet to the fucking head. But I can make the whole rape thing happen too.”
Ajax shoved Jeb back against the wall. “Yeah. Let’s pull a train on the bitches and then put a bullet in their heads!”
Squatch pulled out a .357 revolver from his rags. “Yeah. I’ll finish them off for you, Stryker. It’s your call.”
I wouldn’t have flinched putting a bullet in Jeb’s fucking head. But killing a chick? She did try to steal from my club, but the image of Sadie lying dead on the floor in the cabin that rainy night over a year ago still made my stomach turn.
I looked at Squatch. “Is all the cash back in the safe?”
“Yeah. Prospect was the one that caught her. Me and Tug put all of it back.”
I paced a few steps away, running a hand through my beard. The girl and the bar could be useful and valuable to the club. And you couldn’t make money off dead people.
I paced back over to Ajax and Squatch. “No bullets are going into heads tonight, brothers. The girls and the bar belong to the Berzerkers now.”
4
Izzy
You don’t get to choose your parents. Because if you could, I wouldn’t have chosen the ones I was stuck with. Some people gave their children food, shelter, and clothing—the basic human needs. But all my parents knew how to do was take care of themselves. I hated them. The only reason I was still living in this shithole trailer park was because I couldn’t leave Marie behind. I would never abandon her. But I didn’t have any skills and dropped out of high school in my junior year because keeping Marie safe and cared for was more important to me than an education.
Twenty-five thousand dollars was more than enough to get Marie and me on a bus and far away from Durango’s, Jeb, and my mother. My stomach twisted in knots for fear of getting
caught as I turned the knob on the combination to the safe and opened it. And the worst-case scenario happened—I was caught by the outlaw MC that I was stealing from. I made a deadly mistake that could’ve cost me my life and Marie’s too.
When the greasy prospect strung me up in the basement and tried to rape me, I kneed him hard in his balls. And I knew I was sure as dead when the devil himself, Stryker, touched me. But when he cut me loose and gave me his T-shirt, I feared that I would suffer later, with beatings and rape before he would kill me.
My head swam when Jeb slapped me, and all I could do was hold on to Marie as Stryker slammed him against the wall. All the men in Stryker’s club were menacing, and they frightened Marie so much I worried she would lose it and go off the deep end.
Ajax shoved Jeb. “Get up the stairs, dipshit. Go clean out whatever’s yours and get the fuck out.”
Once Stryker’s soldiers took Jeb upstairs, and he just stood there, with his wide stance, his huge, tatted arms crossed over his chest looking down at Marie and me. She still sobbed, keeping a firm grip around my waist.
He scratched his beard, looking like some big, dumb grizzly bear contemplating his next meal. “Who else works behind that bar besides you?”
“Just me. Jeb fired the last girl that helped me out, and that was a month ago.”
“Can you cook?”
“What?”
“You heard me! Can you fuck-ing cook?”
“Uh. Yeah? Better than you, I bet!”
He chuckled. “I bet that mouth of yours gets you into trouble a lot, don’t it?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Sometimes.”
“Get up, let’s go. You’re gonna show me where you live.”
Marie started to cry again as she clung to me. “Don’t leave me, Izzy!”
Struck in the Crossfire (BERZERKERS MC Book 1) Page 2