by Aaron Riley
Chapter Fifteen
Patrick
The dead eyes of Coal stared back at me as I huddled into the corner of the basement. Gunshots boomed upstairs and for all I knew Phoenix was dead like the rest of them. It had to be Byron taking revenge. What would he do to me when he discovers me down here?
A figure came down the stairs and I grabbed the pipe that I had killed Coal with. I wouldn't let Byron take me without giving a fight. I hid at the bottom and swung when he hit the bottom step.
A hand grabbed the pipe before it connected with his head. “Whoa, Patrick. It's me.” Phoenix stood there with blood all over him and a gun in his hand. Phoenix took the pipe and tossed it across the room.
My legs wobbled and I couldn't stand anymore. Phoenix took my hands and helped me to the floor. “Did you get him? Did you kill Byron?”
Phoenix knelt down in front of me, a dark shadow covering his face. “It wasn't Byron. It was the Mexicans. They killed a bunch of us. There's barely anything left of the Devil's Hellions MC.” Phoenix looked over at Coal's carcass. “I need to get you out of here.”
Phoenix gathered me in his arms and picked me up. He helped me up the stairs and out of the basement. I could feel the Phoenix radiating from Phoenix. The Devil's Hellions MC was all he knew and it had been taken from him. I saw the death and destruction as Phoenix carefully stepped over all the dead bodies. The clubhouse was in shambles.
Could they ever come back from this?
Phoenix took me up to his room on the second floor. He gently laid me on the bed and placed his pistol onto the desk. “I need your help, Patrick,” Phoenix said, turning to me.
What could I possibly help him with? But if he needed me, then I was there for him. “Whatever you need, Phoenix.”
“I need Byron,” he replied, determination searing in his eyes.
How could I say no. Phoenix was more broken than I was. “Tell me what I need to do.”
“Call your brother, tell him what happened to us, and see if he'll meet.”
I gulped. Meeting Byron again after what I did was terrifying. What if he tried to take me from Phoenix? Or worse, what if he killed us both?
Phoenix put his hand on mine. He was warm and soft. “Don't worry, Patrick. I'll protect you from him.”
I looked up into his gray eyes. “And who's going to protect you?”
Phoenix brushed the back of his hand against my cheek. I wanted him to stay by my side forever. I couldn't resist this biker.
Chapter Sixteen
Phoenix
My MC was in shambles and all I could think about was plunging my cock deep into Patrick. The adrenaline from the fight with Coal and the shootout was still coursing through my veins. His blue eyes bored into me with an innocence that I had lost years ago. Patrick had seen so much death since being with me. His steeled expression showed how strong he was.
I couldn't help myself. I kissed him hard on the lips. The intense pleasure washing over us like a tidal wave. Patrick breathed in sharply as my tongue entered his mouth, lightly playing with his.
I craned his head to the side and trailed kisses down his neck. Patrick shivered, his hands feeling up my chest.
“Why does your skin taste so good?” I asked, my tongue running across his collarbone.
“Don't stop,” Patrick commanded. I lifted his shirt over his head and drooled over chiseled body.
Patrick suddenly shoved me off and I fell backwards onto the bed. The animalistic desire raged through him as he pulled my leather cut off and tore away at the blood-stained wife beater. He layered kiss upon kiss, moving from my neck in a straight line down my chest and to my stomach.
His fingers fumbled with my belt buckle and jeans but he finally was able to get them off. I'd never been with a man so eager to fuck me before.
“You're so damn big,” Patrick said, admiring my throbbing cock pinned beneath my black boxer briefs. He pressed one finger against my shaft and my dick pulsed. Patrick gasped and giggled with a hand covering his mouth.
“Don't think you can just play with me all day. I'll make you gag on my cock until my cum is dribbling from your lips,” I said.
Patrick bit down on his bottom lip. “That's not such a bad idea. But I have a better one.” Patrick pulled down my boxers around my knees until my long cock flung out. he lifted one leg over me and straddled me like a horse. Patrick sat down on my crotch, suffocating my cock in his ass.
Patrick felt so good against me. I wanted to come all over him. But not yet. He reached down and grasped my cock, guiding me into his warm hole. He was completely stretched and filled to the max.
This guy thought he could torture me—but I'd been with so many men that I knew how to make them squirm. Patrick rested his hands on my chest, lifting his ass into the air and slamming down on me. He wouldn't be able to control herself much longer.
“It feels so good...Phoenix.”
“Come around me, Patrick,” I murmured. “Let me feel your ass clench and quiver.” I stroked his cock until he moaned my name.
Patrick came undone, quaking on top of me, his legs vibrating. His cum shot out all over my while I fucked him.
Patrick returned to me with an intensity, rocking his hips back and forth. “You're so deep inside me.”
My hands sneaked around Patrick and grasped his ass, flinging him up and down on me. My engorged cock couldn't wait much longer. This man knew how to make me feel so good.
Patrick bent down and kissed me, his chest pressed hard against mine. His lips trailed across my cheek and to my ear. “I want to feel you come,” he whispered.
The pleasure hit its peak and I detonated within Patrick, unloading my hot cum. Patrick arched his back and came with me, his ass tightening, his eyes rolling back. We screamed at the top of our lungs until we had no breath left.
Patrick collapsed onto me. I wrapped my arms around his sweaty body and held him close. No guy had ever made me feel this way before. I didn't want to just throw him away and move onto the next man.
All I wanted was another time with Patrick. One more time to fill him up and make him moan.
“That was way too good,” Patrick said, exasperated. “Was that good for you?”
“God damn, baby, do you even need to ask?” I lifted Patrick off and set him down next to me. “Where did you even learn how to ride cock like that?”
Patrick bit the tip of his index finger. “I love the way you feel inside me.”
My flaccid penis was already coming back to attention. But I couldn't waste anymore time fucking around. I had MC business to deal with.
I got out of bed and found my jeans, slipping them on. Patrick rolled over onto his stomach and watched me dress. His ass looked amazing. If only I had time to come all over those cheeks. Patrick's feet were in the air, kicking back and forth. I wanted to fuck that innocent look right off him.
“Where do you think you're going?” he asked, smiling.
I searched on the floor for my leather cut. “We have shit to do, Patrick. I need you to set up the meet with Byron.”
Patrick crawled on the bed to edge. He slipped a finger into the band of my jeans and pulled me forward. “There's plenty of time for that later. But I need you inside me again.”
This man was fucking freaky. And I loved it. Taking him from behind and covering his ass in come wouldn't take too long...
Chapter Seventeen
Patrick
Byron and I barely exchanged any words to each other on the phone. I told him we needed to meet and he agreed. I didn't even get a chance to mention Phoenix and the Devil's Hellions before Byron hung up on me. He was still furious at me and I was never going to come back to him.
He was dead to me as far as I was concerned. But Phoenix needed my help and I was ready to do anything for that inked body of his.
Byron ordered us to meet him at the same overpass from last time. Phoenix was in no position to argue. After filling in Tank and Tater, Phoenix had them stay behind to clean up
the massacre. We arrived at the overpass to a very different situation. The Fires of Hell MC was nowhere to be seen. Byron stood next to his bike all alone and with his helmet off.
Phoenix stopped me from getting off the bike. “Stay here. We don't know what Byron is capable of. If guns are drawn, I want you to fly out of here like a bat out of hell.”
I shook my head, kicked him away, and got off. “We're in this together now, Phoenix. I go where you go.” Phoenix looked a little shocked. Like he didn't know I had that much strength in me. There was a lot he didn't know about me.
Byron and Phoenix shook his hands and Byron completely ignored me. Byron got the first word out. “The same thing that happened to you, Phoenix...happened to us. Mexicans hit us hard but we were able to take out a few. We had a fucking deal with those motherfuckers.”
“Fuck,” Phoenix whispered. “How many you got left?”
“More than enough,” Byron replied, scratching his leather cut. His knuckles were bloody and ripped apart. I was glad I wasn't on the receiving ends of those fists. “I know your MC took a heavy hit but we need to band together.”
Phoenix nodded. “The Mexicans will try again to finish us both off. We need to strike them now.”
Byron's mouth stretched into an evil grin. “I got some intel from a cop that owed us one. Mexicans are holed up in a wetback restaurant, celebrating today's accomplishments.”
Phoenix slammed his fist into his open palm. “Thats it! We hit them while they're taking a breath. The streets will be flooded with Mexican blood.”
Byron still paid no attention to me. I kind of liked the feel of being a ghost. Byron was finally done with me. I was out of his grasp and didn't have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life, wondering when he was going to come and take me back.
“That won't be easy.” Byron sighed. “The entire Death Merchants MC will be there and it's going to be hard to surprise them.”
Phoenix paced back and forth, his boots kicking up dust. “We're going to need men.”
“And guns,” Byron added.
“I can supply the guns. We have warehouses full.”
“The Fires of Hell took a big hit but we still have enough men to take on The Death Merchants.”
Watching these two, you wouldn't know that they were hated enemies just a day ago. Byron used to speak about the day when Sacks County would finally be Fires of Hell owned.
The Mexicans were a non-factor and the Devil's Hellions were all that mattered. Cutting them to pieces is what Byron lived for.
Now there was a new enemy.
“Are we forming a truce?” Phoenix asked.
Byron's mouth twitched. He hated the idea of working with the Devil's Hellions. But there was no other way. “Black or White blood will no longer be spilled until the Mexicans are eradicated.”
Phoenix produced his giant knife from his back pocket. He placed the sharp blade in his palm and sliced. I winced as I watched blood trickle from his hand. Byron produced an even bigger knife—almost a machete—and cut his own hand.
The two men slapped their red-stained hands together, the blood dripping onto the ground between them. They grit their teeth, squeezing each other's hand as hard as they could. Even as allies, they were still hated enemies.
Byron walked back towards his bike and snapped his helmet on. “Meet back here at eight. Bring all the guns you can muster. We'll ride out to the restaurant and hit em' when they're neck deep in alcohol.”
Phoenix nodded and Byron rode off, leaving a cloud of dirt behind him. I was dead to my brother and it felt freeing. I could finally be my own person.
Phoenix took my hand and led me back to his motorcycle. The red on the bike shined in the sunlight. I stopped in my tracks and dropped his hand. “Don't you think this attack might be too dangerous, Phoenix? Can you even trust, Byron?” I asked. “There's barely anyone left of the Devil's Hellions MC and you're going to throw them in front of a Mexican firing squad.”
Phoenix turned away from me and faced the overpass. “The Death Merchants need to pay for what they did. They need to pay for Blaze, Cash, E-Z, and all the others they slaughtered. Even if I was the only one left, I'd still go after them until every single one of them was dead. Tank and Tater would say the exact same thing. I don't want to trust Byron but I have no other choice.”
Phoenix turned around with tears in his eyes. This tough biker of mine was full of heart. How could I not fall for a man that would go to the ends of the earth to avenge the ones he loved?
Chapter Eighteen
Phoenix
Tater and I rode next to each other on our bikes while Tank drove the black truck behind us filled to the brim with every gun that Devil's Hellions MC owned. I forced Patrick to stay back at the clubhouse until I got back.
He pounded my chest with both fists, screaming at me about why he deserved to go.
All it took was for me to say, “I wouldn't be able to focus one-hundred percent if I knew you were in danger. I could get us all killed.” Patrick stepped down and let me go. I hated to leave him behind but it was the only way to know that he was safe.
This raid on the Mexican restaurant was our last ditch effort. If we couldn't take out a substantial portion of The Death Merchants, there wouldn't be enough of us left to defend against a counterattack.
The thought of betrayal by the Fires of Hell lingered in the back of my mind. Byron would barely have to lift a finger to destroy what's left of the Devil's Hellions MC. We'd finally be out of his way and he'd have our entire gun supply. The only thing I could count on was our blood pact. Hopefully Byron felt the same way as I did about honor.
We came to the overpass to discover a decimated army of Blacks on bikes. There had to be only ten of them. I hated to think of how many members they lost when the Mexicans hit them. The Devil's Hellions MC knew their Phoenix.
Tank opened the back of the truck to reveal piles of assault rifles, handguns, and machine guns. Byron laughed hard, his white teeth glaring at me. “Who would have thought the Devil's Hellions MC had this much firepower. You could take on a small country with all this.” Byron took out a M4A-1 rifle and cocked it. “Let's get to work.”
Tater and I helped pass out guns to all the Blacks. There were still a ton left after each Fires of Hell member took as much as they wanted. I knew the Devil's Hellions MC would never see those guns again. We were giving the Blacks everything they needed to rule Sacks County. Once the Mexicans were finally gone, we'd have an even bigger war with the Fires of Hell.
Tank rode with me and Tater's fat ass was right next to us as we followed behind the large sea of Black. All I could think about was not getting in one last fuck with Patrick before marching off to my death. I should have been focusing on surviving but the thought of my hard cock piercing Patrick's eager ass was distracting. If only I could have made him moan my name one last time while coming inside him.
Tank put a fist into my side and I snapped back to reality. We were entering the far east of Sacks County. The Blacks owned this side but in recent years a big Mexican population had moved in. Little shops and restaurants lined the streets and not one Black was to be found. If we weren't careful, this virus could infect the entire county.
The Fires of Hell turned down a dark alleyway with old beat-up cars parked on both sides. We followed and parked when we were out of sight of the main street. Tank pulled his shotgun from a holster on my bike. Tater was busy cleaning his pistol. The night air was cool but adrenaline and my leather cut kept me warm.
Byron signaled me over and hunched down. “Okay Phoenix, the restaurant is a block from here. We hit it from the front, spraying the windows, and then get the hell out of there.”
Byron's plan was a classic Fires of Hell move—hit it hard and run away. In the past few years, we had fallen to their guerrilla-style tactics. Byron's MC didn't care about finishing jobs, just creating as much chaos as possible. His plan with the Mexicans wouldn't guarantee us success.
�
�Why don't you guys hit the front and my guys hit the back?”
Byron shook his head. “Behind the Mexican restaurant in the alley is a bank. They have cameras covering the entire thing. You might as well deliver yourself to the cops with a bow taped to your chest.”
“We won't be able to kill them all. They'll escape into the alley to fight another day. What if we guard both exits of the alley. Fire on them as they try to get out.”
Byron sighed. “We don't have enough to cover all the exits. Besides, the Mexicans own that bank and could hold up in there if they wanted. I want minimal casualties. I know you'll agree that we both can't afford to lose anymore men.”
Byron was completely right. If Tater or Tank died, the Devil's Hellions MC would be done for. There's no way we could rebuild with only two members. It was essential that we all survived.
The group of us drove our motorcycles down the street in a line. We stopped in front of a little restaurant called Los Hermanos. Two large windows looked into the restaurant from the street. The entire Death Merchant MC was in there celebrating with beers and women. They had no idea what was about to hit them.
The line of Blacks and Whites drew their guns and pointed at the restaurant. The first shot went off, hitting the big pane of glass and shattering it. The rest of us opened fire, bullets raining down on the Mexicans. A few of them were quick enough to return fire. Blood sprayed the walls of the restaurant. Tank's shotgun burned in my ear with every shot.
One of Byron's men got hit in the head and fell off his bike, his gun clattering on the pavement.
I looked back at the restaurant and aimed carefully, hitting one of the Mexicans in the head—brain matter exploded behind him, covering one of the cheap whores. Her screams of horror brought a smile to my face.
Another Fires of Hell member got hit in the shoulder and sped away. Byron yelled and we stopped firing. The restaurant was completely annihilated but there were still Mexicans alive to fire back at us.