by Ann Grech
* * * *
“Mo,” Timmy called out, unsure whether he was trying to get his damn dog to stop whimpering or to attack whatever he was upset about. At Timmy’s command, Mo bounded over and licked their faces covering them in slobber. Timmy’s double armed embrace around Chloe hampered him from pushing Mohawk away, but Chloe’s giggle and her gentle push on his muzzle halted Mo’s fretting.
“I’m okay, you beautiful thing,” Chloe whispered, her hand still on Mo’s face. Is she talking to me or the dog?
“Glad to hear it. But beautiful?”
“Yes.” She smiled at him before elbowing Timmy gently in the ribs. “Mo is beautiful. He protects me. Even from you.” A warmth spread across Timmy’s chest at the same time as a rock settled low in his gut. Stronger than he’d ever felt before, it was a mix of fear and something a lot stronger than lust. He wasn’t ready to name it yet, but even Timmy realized that it felt suspiciously like love. Damn, this girl is potent. I’m done for.
Timmy rolled to the side, kissing Chloe softly on her throat where his bite had already started to bruise. He loved seeing his mark on her but he hoped she had some high-necked sweaters that she could wear for the next few days. Peterson would throw his ass in the lockup for assault and Claire would tear his balls off and feed them to the fish in the springs if either of them saw it. He hoped Peterson got to him first.
Chloe almost purred as Timmy ran his hand along her body and he kissed her softly. She was beautiful, so precious and sweet, and she’d followed every one of his directions to the letter. That only made him fall harder for her. He’d pushed a few boundaries tonight. Telling her not to move or make a sound was tough for a first time submissive, especially without the added assistance of formal bondage and yet, Chloe had tried, even going so far as trying to let him take her ass without preparation. He’d never do that. Yes, he liked the control that came with a submissive trusting her body to him and inflicting pain, but it was always with a sensual edge. The kiss of a flogger, a paddle or a cane for the right person was as arousing as being given a blow job. Entering a virgin ass with no lube and no preparation wasn’t pain with a sensual edge. It was cruel.
Timmy brushed a clump of Chloe’s sweat plastered hair off her face and kissed her softly again. His softened cock had long since slipped out of her and he needed to tend to her, needed to give her a bit of well-deserved aftercare. “Don’t move, pretty girl. I’ll be back in a second.”
Standing up, Timmy looked down at Chloe’s prone form and noticed blood between her legs. His brow furrowed and he looked at his own groin. Covered in blood. What the fuck?
“Chloe, tell me you have your period.”
“No.” She shook her head innocently. Her eyes widened in realization when she saw what had prompted Timmy’s question and she winced.
“You were a virgin?” Timmy asked, shocked. But she said…she said she was a woman. She was a fucking child. He’d deflowered a fucking child up against a wall by fucking her nearly into oblivion. Jesus fucking Christ.
“You were a fucking virgin?” Timmy roared. “You fucking manipulated me into taking you. Let me guess, you’re not on the fucking pill either. I’ve just fucked you bareback and…holy fucking Christ. Jesus. Fuck.” Timmy couldn’t believe what was happening. A moment ago, he was basking in the glory of an amazing orgasm with what he thought was a woman who may have been younger than him by a country mile, but who knew what she wanted and invited him to take her. Now? Now he felt like a piece of trash, fucking a virgin in the roughest, most unromantic way possible. Bareback. Jesus, he went bareback. He never did that. He’d only gone bare with a few selected long-term partners after they’d both been tested. But Chloe made him lose all sense of himself. She submitted to him so beautifully that he let go in the moment and took what he needed by giving her what he thought she did. He’d gone and proven what a piece of shit he really was. Anger welled up in Timmy until he couldn’t contain it anymore and he spun and punched the wall sending drywall pieces flying.
The only thing that permeated the buzz in his ears was Chloe’s repeated, “I’m sorry,” as she curled into the fetal position and rocked herself, cowering from him.
Timmy slammed the bathroom door shut behind him. He needed a minute to calm down. The anger and disappointment he felt in himself was overwhelming. He’d failed the two people in the world who meant the most to him. First, he let his brother die. He was the one who had introduced Beau to bikes. He was the one who was always up for a good time, partying when they shouldn’t have been. Yeah, their parents had been busy, working on this movie or attending that premier to the point of neglect, but with Hollywood stardom came money. And that money could buy whatever a teenage kid could dream up. For him, it’d been sex with an edge, power play, and bikes. For his brother, it was the recklessness of skirting the law. It started with attempting to break land speed records on suburban streets, then it moved into drugs. But Beau had never used. No, the thrill he got was not getting caught dealing. Seeing how much he could sell without making a blip on the proverbial radar. Timmy knew what Beau was doing, but he’d turned a blind eye, too wrapped up in mastering domination and submission games to steer his brother away from the dangerous road he was travelling.
And now he’d failed Chloe too. Sweet Chloe had lost so much and was now faced with the risk of hearing Blade speak the vile words he’d said to Timmy on her first day at work. She had been threatened with rape by the very man Timmy instinctively knew was involved in Beau’s death and she didn’t even properly understand that she was at risk. He’d failed her. He asked her whether she wanted missionary with candles and flowers to taunt her, to test whether she’d flinch at his harsh words, to see whether she could play the same games he thought he needed. But that was exactly what he should have given her. There shouldn’t have been any fucking going on. He should have made love to her. In fact, he shouldn’t have done anything. She should be with some sweet boy-next-door type who could treat her right and they could be pure and good together. But the thought of someone else touching her made his blood boil again. It was his job. His job to protect her, his job to care for her, his job to love her. Fuck. His job to love her and he was mopping himself up in the bathroom after having yelled at her and punched a wall because she was a virgin.
Timmy looked at his reflection in the mirror. He saw disgust. In himself. Realization dawned that he’d been an even bigger dick than he thought. He knew what he had to do. Aftercare – that’s what he needed to do. A beautiful woman had given herself to him, placed the ultimate trust in him and he was going to damn well live up to that responsibility. He wet another towel in warm water and rushed out to the den to care for his woman. His woman. That feeling of warmth spread through his chest again as the rock settled deeper.
“Chloe? Pretty girl, I’m sorry,” he said as he stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway. Chloe’s bra was still laying where it fell and her shoes were tossed haphazardly on the floor as if she’d kicked them off when she was running. Her dress and panties were gone. Chloe was gone. The front door stood wide open and he rushed out front to check what he already knew. She was gone.
Timmy had a moment of sheer panic when he thought of what Blade could do to Chloe, especially if she’d run from him without taking Mo. Was he with her? He sprinted to the street shouting for his dog praying, for once, that he didn’t obey his command to come.
“Dear, he’s gone,” Mrs. Massey said as she swung open her front door. “Oh dear,” she gasped. “Timmy, do you realize you’re naked?” she asked as she walked down the path to the sidewalk.
“Oh, shit, sorry, Mrs. Massey. I’ll go.” Timmy covered himself with the wet washcloth that he was still stupidly carrying around with him and turned to leave.
“The young lady you had here took Mohawk. Well, he jumped into her car before she could slam the door closed. I heard you shouting and saw the young lady run out a moment later. Is she okay?”
“I upset her. I screwed up.
Really bad. I was angry with myself and I took it out on her. Now I’m standing in the street buck naked chewing your ear off with my problems.”
“You can stand there like that as long as you like, my dear. I haven’t seen eye candy like you in many years. But your girl needs you. Go get her.” Mrs. Massey smiled and patted Timmy on the backside as she shooed him back toward his house.
Timmy had never dressed so fast in life. Then again, how long could it possibly take to throw on a pair of jeans, boots and leather jacket? He hadn’t bothered to do anything up, including his button fly before he was on his Harley tearing out of his drive. I have to get to her. She’d be safe with Mo but what sort of emotional damage had he wreaked upon her? Of all days to do it, too. Her parents had been buried only hours earlier, he’d destroyed her virginity in the worst way he could have fathomed, then he’d lost it at himself for doing so, and she’d copped the brunt of his anger. He was an ass. Plain and simple.
Pulling into Chloe’s drive, Timmy nudged the kickstand down and was off his bike before the engine had wound down. Running toward the steps he almost lost his jeans and was fumbling with the buttons as giggles and a deep chuckle broke out. “Didn’t your momma teach you how to dress yourself, Timmy?” Cleo laughed.
“Where’s Chloe?”
“She was going to Rake’s house.”
“She came to see me instead but she left. She hasn’t come back here?” Fuck.
“No, why? Should she have?” Cleo asked.
“She’s in danger. She can’t just…fuck.” Timmy slammed his hand down on the balustrade.
“What danger?” Cleo demanded as she stood up and strode to Timmy. Hands on her hips with her eyes narrowed at him, Cleo would ordinarily make a comical sight, but the thought of cracking a smile didn’t even enter Timmy’s mind.
Zane stepped up behind Cleo and rested his arm over her shoulders pulling her toward him and away from Timmy. “Is this something to with some guy called Blade?”
“Who’s Blade? Will someone tell me the fuck what’s going on? Claire!” Cleo yelled.
“Did she say something about him?” Timmy asked, a knot of dread forming in his gut. He sent a silent prayer to whatever God was listening that she hadn’t run into him again, but that dream was instantly dispelled with Zane’s next words.
“She said that she saw him today. Apparently nothing happened, but she did say he scared her.”
“Fuck.” Timmy blanched, the color draining from his face. He swayed on the spot before Zane was in his face.
“Oh, Jesus, please no,” Claire cried as she walked out the door. “Where’s Chloe? What happened?” She stumbled as Timmy looked to her. He was sure she could read the terror written all over his face.
“Keep your shit together, man.” Zane’s demanding tone snapped Timmy out of his horror-filled daze. “How long since she left your place?”
“Shit, I fucked up, man. This is all my fault.”
“How long, Timmy?” Zane growled.
“Fuck. Twenty, thirty minutes.”
“Tell us, please. What happened?” Claire begged. Tears streamed down her face, her anguish so palpable that it broke Timmy’s heart. Cleo stood like a statue, as white as a ghost, her hands tightly clenched together.
“Blade saw her. He’s dangerous. He wants to rape her. The MC will break her if they get her. I tried to protect her but I fucked up. I blamed her. She ran. I…fuck.” Timmy’s voice broke and his hands found his knees as he heaved breaths in and out.
“Cleo, get my keys and call the sheriff,” Zane said quietly, touching her elbow. “Claire, get her friends on the phone. Call anyone who she might have gone to see. We need to find her.” Zane’s hand landed on Timmy’s shoulder a moment later. “I need her number, Timmy.”
Looking up at Zane, Timmy took strength from his calm under pressure. “She’s not answering me. Here.” Timmy fished his cell out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Zane.
Claire hurried out of the house, her earlier panic buried under the efficient, professional persona that she wore like a second skin as a nurse. “Thanks, Tristan, get calling all her friends and go anywhere she might have gone. She’d still be an hour or so away from Berkley.” Claire called Jo next, asking her to keep an eye out for Chloe, while Timmy watched on helplessly, his attention diverted between Claire and Zane, who was unsuccessfully trying to call Chloe.
“The Sheriff isn’t working tonight, but I spoke to Deputy Bakos. He’s putting the word out,” Cleo said to Zane. Turning toward Timmy, she stepped up to him invading his personal space. There was no mistaking the hatred in her eyes. “I’m gonna kick your ass when we find her. Whatever went down between the two of you had better have been worth putting her at risk. It’s your fault if she gets hurt by that animal. You’ll have to live with it for the rest of your life. You understand that? I’m holding you responsible.”
“Come on, Cleo,” Zane said, taking her by the elbow again. “We’ve all got each other’s numbers. Let’s split up and keep in touch. Go anywhere and everywhere. Claire, you stay here and coordinate everyone. Cleo and I will start at the lookout. Timmy, you’re on biker duty. Any place they go, you go.”
Claire interrupted, “If they have our sister, we need to know. And if they have her, kill every one of them.” Her quiet words were calm and deadly serious. If Timmy didn’t feel exactly the same way, her order would have chilled him to the bone. The woman was a force to be reckoned with. Timmy wondered for a moment whether it was a trait that she got from her mother or father. Chloe was just as strong, but carried herself differently to Claire. Cleo was different again, middle-child syndrome having hit her squarely in the head. But there was something else about her too, something more than met the eye, a fire that burned deep inside her.
Grasping her hand, Timmy squeezed it and nodded. “I promise.”
Timmy was dialing Rake’s number as he sprinted back to his bike. “Rake, bud, I need you. Meet me at Twin Jesters. Make sure you’re carrying enough for both of us.”
“You plannin’ on startin’ a war? Because I’d like to live through the night.”
“It’s Chloe.”
“I’m on my way. I’ll get Jussy there too.”
Timmy hung up and gunned the engine to his bike before tearing out of the drive again. He needed to slow down or he’d kill himself. He needed to hurry the fuck up was what he needed. Pulling into Twin Jesters, he parked next to Rake, kicking down the stand as he cut the engine. Rake leaned against his bike, arms crossed, looking thunderous. “Couldn’t get a hold of Jussy. Here,” Rake said as he passed Timmy a semi-automatic pistol. Compact, concealable and it packed a punch. Exactly what he needed. Then again, he wouldn’t need anything but his fists if one of those cunts touched his girl.
They stalked across the parking lot and entered through the main doors of the bar. The place was a dive. Dimly lit, it helped the owners feign ignorance to the shit that happened in there. He wasn’t sure how, but the place hadn’t been closed down yet. Apart from the Health Code violations, the cops knew this was biker central. A few shootouts had happened in the parking lot attached to the bar and the paramedics had been there more than once treating overdoses. Timmy counted two drug deals going down, one chick snorting coke, two blow jobs and a girl getting double teamed on the pool table at the back of the room as he walked to the bar. His eyes scanned the room looking for Blade, his veep and the sergeant at arms, but they were nowhere to be seen. In fact, it was mostly the members rather than the ‘management team’ of Ares Fury that were there tonight. That didn’t bode well. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he looked across to Rake. He saw agreement in Rake’s eyes that this would be a quick stop. Holding up two fingers to the bartender, two shots of whiskey were slid across the bar to him after a moment. Passing one to Rake, Timmy said, “Fuck. Can’t just sit in here and drink while something could be happening to Chloe.”
“But if we strut in here look around and walk out again, they’ll all know so
mething’s up and we don’t want that. If they’ve got your girl, we need to surprise them. And if they don’t, we don’t want to clue them onto anything.”
“Yeah. Fuck, this is all my fault. I’m such an ass.”
Rake glared at him, accusation in his eyes. Rake saw way too much. He always had, but that was the best thing about him. Rake took everything in, remembered everything, clued onto things that Timmy had no idea of way before they happened and was always beside you, helping pick up the pieces when you fucked up. “I hurt her. Physically, she’ll be fine but emotionally? I’m not so sure. I lost it, took it out on her. Said things I never should have. Blamed her when she followed my directions to the letter.”
“Sort your shit out, Timmy. That girl deserves better than your self-loathing ass. She’s lost so much. Don’t make her lose out on more.”
“We’ve been here long enough. Let’s swing by the clubhouse and take a walk around.”
Timmy led the way out of the bar after Rake threw a few notes on the countertop. Heading back to their bikes they rode across town to the industrial park where Ares Fury had its clubhouse. Like every other building along the street, it was a concrete tilt shed surrounded by a concrete parking lot. Unlike the others, there was no signage advertising the business that occupied the space there.