by Kline, Sandy
“What do you mean you have the video?” He finally asks. “Are you talking about the one on your phone taken in the bar the other night?”
“No this is another video that someone took and it clearly shows a cop shooting at an unarmed suspect with his back turned and you got in the way and got shot instead. Now I don’t know what the ‘official’ version is, but I know the real version.”
“You have to give me the video Kim. Things happen so fast it can be impossible for the untrained eye to really tell what is going on. It may have looked like another officer shot me but until that video is analyzed frame by frame we won’t really know if it was a cop that shot me or not.”
“Oh my god, you’re so full of shit. I saw the video and it’s clear as can be. One of your guys tried to shoot an unarmed man in the back and you accidently prevented it. There can be no other interpretation.”
“How about this…” Marc begins. “Let’s just you and I look at the video together and see what it contains. Sound good?”
“No it does not sound good. You’ll just confiscate it like you did with the other video and once your technicians get ahold of it the evidence against your department will be erased.”
“Well for starters you shouldn’t have kept that video to yourself. It was evidence of a crime and rightfully belongs to the police.”
“I see and the video I have now, who does it belong to?”
“I guess that depends on what’s on the video.”
“Well I already know what’s on the video and I’m telling you it does not make the Sheriff’s Department look very good. That deputy needs to be off the street and in jail.”
“You can’t make that call. You’re not a police officer and you’re not a forensics expert so you’re in no position to decide that other officer’s fate. You know, the more I think about this the more obvious it is to me. You need to give me that video. It’s evidence that needs to be in the hands of the police.”
A cold dark fear is beginning to creep into my heart. Something has changed, Marc has changed and he’s no longer on my side; that much is clear. It’s also clear to me that I cannot give him the video. He’d destroy it and innocent bikers will go to jail; Seth and my brother included. Marc has become the enemy.
“I can’t give it to you Marc.” I reply. “I can’t. Please leave.”
“Kim that video needs to be in the hands of the Sheriff’s Office. Where is the video?”
“I don’t have it with me.” I reply.
“Where is it then?”
“My friend Molly has it.”
“Then we need to go there and get it.” He insists.
Oh man, I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this one. I’m beginning to panic. Marc is treating me like a suspect now and not a woman he used to date. What the hell am I going to do now? I have to fight the urge to just get up and run for my life. In fact I have just decided to jump up and run, as crazy as the sounds, but then my phone rings. Before Marc can forbid me to pick it up I snatch it from my night stand and answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hey Darlin, sorry to call you so-”
“Help me!” I hiss at him.
“What? What’s wrong Kim? Are you at home?”
“Yes get me out of here!”
“Kim what the hell are you doing? Give me that phone. Who are you talking to anyway?”
I scramble off my bed and sprint for my door. My sudden movement catches Marc off guard and I barely slip by him as he reaches out to grab me. I sprint for my door screaming into my phone.
“Help me Seth!” I pant. “Cops after me. They… want the… video. You g-gotta help m-me!”
I don’t know what else to do so I just run down the hall and out my front door praying that Seth will get to me before Marc does. I make a hard right towards one of my neighbors. I run across a well-manicured lawn. I’m gasping for breath by the time I reach the front door where I starting ringing the doorbell and screaming for help. When immediate help fails to arrive I start pounding on the door with my fists and screaming even louder.
“Somebody help me please. Help! Help me please help me!”
I hear my own door slam so I know Marc is in hot pursuit. Five seconds later I hear Marc shouting my name and the thudding of his boots on the sidewalk. I pound on the door again but its clear Amy doesn’t want to get involved nor does anyone else in the area. I can’t believe I’m going to be caught.
Just then I hear the sweetest sound in the world; the roar of motorcycles, big black Harley’s ridden by Seth and someone else it would seem. I turn around as both bikes pass Marc and pull into the driveway of the house I am standing in front of. One bike stops between Marc and me while Seth pulls up to me.
“Get on!” He shouts. “You’re lucky I was out and about.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I climb aboard and Seth wastes no time taking off. In seconds we’re on the street where with a twist of the throttle and the bike surges beneath us. I hang on as Seth picks up speed. I venture a look back behind us and see Marc opening the door of his truck. Dammit, this is going to be a high speed chase. Hopefully he won’t think to call in back up. He’ll have to explain why he’s chasing me and if the entire department sees my video he’ll be in trouble for trying to suppress it. Actually that might not be the case.
I renew my grip around Seth’s waist and press up against him as tight as I can. I’m wearing a thin blouse and the air was cool enough without getting onto a speeding motorcycle. Now it’s just freezing. I don’t know where he’s planning on taking me but I hope we get there soon. The whole ride is only fifteen minutes and the entire time I didn’t see Marc behind us. I don’t know if that’s because Seth lost him or Marc decided to keep things under wraps and handle things by himself.
But just when I’m about to die from frostbite we slow down and turn into a driveway blocked off by a twelve foot high metal wall. As we pull up, a gate opens and Marc drives in. On either side of us is an armed biker standing guard and the moment we clear the gate they shut it fast. When we finally pull up in front of what looks like a bar I am shaking uncontrollably. Seth hurries me inside. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light but at least it’s warm.
“Let me get you something to warm you up.” He says and directs me to a stool at the bar.
“Prospect!” Seth yells. “Get the lady something to warm her insides. She’s freezing cold. And bring me a jacket.”
Instantly a guy in his mid- twenties jumps to life and runs through a door and disappears. When he returns he’s carrying a leather jacket. Seth takes it and helps me into it. It’s not my size but it’s warm and that’s all I care right now. A few minutes later I’m being handed a drink. I gulp the fiery liquid without hesitation. While I’m sitting here getting warmed up my phone begins to ring. It’s Marc. No way in hell am I answering that. He calls maybe five times over the next half hour and each time he leaves a message. I’ll listen to them later.
I gulp down a second drink and a third before I finally begin to feel the effects of the first one. Thankfully it works its magic on my frayed nerves and gradually I begin to feel better. Seth sips his own drink silently while I get my bearings. I take this time to look around me. I’m in a large bar…or it looks like one at least. Behind the counter on either side of the room are doors that I’m guessing lead to the clubhouse rooms I guess. I can’t imagine them having meetings out in the open here. Although maybe this is closed to members and prospects only. On the right side of the only door leading into the bar area is a giant…very old Harley in perfect condition. When Seth led me in I noticed he ran his fingers along the bike’s huge gas tank. In fact I noticed there was an area where the paint was worn down to the metal on an otherwise perfect paint job.
“Hey what’s with that bike there?” I ask.
“That belonged to the clubs founding member and first president. He died riding that thing and the brothers had it restored and set it up there so now eve
ryone touches the tank for luck when they come in and leave. Did you see where the paint has worn off on one side of the tank?”
“Yeah I thought that was odd given the rest of the paint job.”
“Bikers tend to be a superstitious lot and most have rituals they do before going on a long ride or a mission for the club.”
“So what’s your ritual?”
“I never change my socks.”
“Oh gross!”
“I’m kidding. I can’t tell you though. If I do it loses its power.”
“That sounds like a superstition right there.”
“Damn girl, you’re gonna get me killed.”
“Sorry, it’s just that you said-”
“I know, but that’s not my ritual though. That I can’t tell ya, sorry.”
“So what is this place anyway?” I ask.
“This is our compound. Normally we keep the outer gate open because we have a Harley shop to run but we have the capability of locking this place down in times of war. We also have eight fully contained apartments on the property that we can move member’s families into if we’re under siege. Behind the bar are the bachelor pads and we can house an additional ten guys, twenty in an emergency. The last time we were at war with the 59th Street Gang we had like thirty more guys in sleeping bags here every night. That was a crazy time. The gang got muscle from some organization in Mexico and was trying to take over our H trade but we made them pay so bad they broke off the deal and eventually relocated.”
“Wow… I’m glad you guys aren’t at war with that gang anymore.”
“No, we’re just at war with the cops now.”
“What?”
“Things are gonna blow up darlin’ cuz of that video I took that you still have right?”
“Of course.”
“Better let me take it then so the heat will be off you.”
“I don’t actually have it on me.”
“What?”
“I was going to email it to myself but the file is too large and my phone won’t do it so I hid it in my house.”
“You realize the second they believe you no longer have it on your person they’re going to tear up your house looking for it.”
“Oh I hid it real good.”
“You are so naïve darlin’. They’re gonna bring in metal detectors and x-ray equipment and if it’s in there they’ll find it.”
“I’m not sure they’ll do any of that. I think it has to be off the books because not everyone is going to go by Marc’s interpretation of the events when they see the video. As you know it’s clear it was a cop who shot at an unarmed person with his back turned. It’s damning evidence and if they suppress it and try to convict some witness may come forward and blow the whole thing even if the cops destroyed the video. I think Marc has to find it by himself and destroy it. Soon as he does that he can decide how to go about getting charges against you guys. He may not even want that and may just sweep everything under the carpet.”
“Well look who’s been watching Law and Order.” Seth replies.
“Shows like that take incompetent crooks and turn them into knowledgeable criminals.
“Well this competent criminal is going to your house to retrieve that video and see what can be done to make copies before it accidently gets destroyed. Where’d you hide it?”
“I took a page from your playbook.”
“How so?”
“I put it in a water tight, air tight box and put it in the gutter on the roof on the back of the house. That’s about the last place anyone would look and the gutter will throw off metal detectors right?”
“That’s actually not a bad idea. Good work detective. You look exhausted. Let me take you to some place you can lay down and get some sleep. Then I’m going to cruise by your house and see if it’s being watched.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea Seth. They’ll probably be hiding out and will see you long before you get to my house or see them.”
“Relax darlin’, I have done this before. I know how to move in and out without being seen. If the cops still have eyes on the home I’ll keep my distance. Now let’s get you a place to rest your pretty head.”
I get off my stool and follow him through one of the doors behind the bar. Soon as we get through the door I detect bachelor. Now this is what I thought Seth’s house would have smelled like. Obviously these rooms are used by single brothers. I’m almost afraid to sleep here. He leads me past four doors and to one that is open. I follow him in. It’s Spartan, but clean. There are two single beds and a small desk. Other than that the room is empty.
“Don’t worry Kim, everything is clean. You’ll be able to sleep here unmolested. No one knocks much less opens a closed door here. That’s the cardinal rule of the bachelor pads. The guys value their privacy. How long do you want to sleep?”
I glance at my watch. It’s well past midnight. “If you’re volunteering to be my alarm clock how does 8:30 sound?”
“I’ll see you then.”
I’m so tired I don’t even say goodbye or thank him for the sleeping accommodations. I just flop myself down on the bed and begin snoring. A few minutes later I hear the door open back up, then someone sits at the foot of my bed. I guess he decided to wait till tomorrow to get his phone. A minute later he gets up and I hear the unmistakable sound of a boots being tossed across the floor then a zipper sound. I guess someone has more pressing business on his mind. I roll over to the far edge of the bed to accommodate him and open my eyes. To my astonishment sunlight is shining through the blinds on the windows above the bed. I can’t believe I slept the whole night without even stirring.
Seth is sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but white boxers.
“Well are you going to sit there staring or you going to join me?”
“I’m still debating it.” He replies.
“You’re kidding me right? I’m not gonna twist your arm behind your back Seth. Either you want me or you’re crazy. Which is it?”
When he doesn’t answer fast enough I turn over giving him my back. Pretty soon he gets up and I hear more rustling around before I feel his weight back on the bed. Then I feel strong arms pulling me into his body. Every part of my skin that comes into contact with his bare skin makes my nerves light up like a Christmas tree! Every little nerve shoots little barbs of pleasure right into my brain and in seconds I’m moaning involuntarily and Seth hasn’t done anything but pull me into his naked embrace. I have never been the aggressor when it comes to love making, but I can’t help but slip into that role with Seth. He’s no slouch either. He just likes to torture me with these little tidbits of pleasure until I’m crazy with lust and can’t help myself or my carnal reactions.
I leave a trail of saliva behind as my mouth moves from his lips to his jawline, down his neck and across his smooth, muscular chest. When I get to his ripped stomach he can’t wait any longer and helps speed my approach with his hands on my head shoving me downwards. I open my mouth to receive his slick, engorged cock and devour him like a crazed animal. I love the power my mouth gives me over men and Seth is no different from any other man I’ve been with. Now that it’s my turn to drive him crazy I do it with gusto until he explodes with white hot ecstasy!
Then he’s grabbing me, pulling me up, flipping me over and entering me from behind. An animalist howl erupts from my throat as slams me into the mattress with the force and staccato of a jackhammer and by the time I reach the pinnacle I’m mad with the need to orgasm. By the time we wear each other out the bed is in shambles and clothes litter the floor of the tiny room. It looks like a pair wild dogs have been rutting in here and not two humans.
Sex has always been good with Marc, but not earthshattering, and sadly, lately most times I could take it or leave it and that scared me. I was actually beginning to think something was wrong with me. Being with Seth has taught me to love sex again. He’s showed me that not only is nothing wrong with me, but it’s just that when it comes to Marc, som
ething was just wrong with us; Marc and I. There’s just too much family history with my dad and cops that just makes any real lasting relationship with someone in law enforcement impossible even if the guy is a good guy like Marc. It’s just who I am and who I have become.
Chapter Twelve
The Fights
The last Saturday of the month is on me before I know it. I find myself wading through the crowd of single silicon boosted whores looking for a new boyfriend or looking to step out on the one they already have. Now that’s the story I should be writing for the website. I grow tired of covering cage fights and I’m even more tired of the fighters themselves and their oversized egos. Why can’t anyone in this business go by their real names? Even the cage referee goes by Stripe. He was probably a fighter himself in the past. The crowd is already chanting the names of various fighters on tonight’s card. There’ll be 8 fights tonight and I swear all sixteen fighters names are being shouted simultaneously right now and it’s making my ears vibrate painfully. I flash my press pass at the edge of our area and duck under the tape. Somewhere in this mass of flesh should be Molly. One of her clients is Bullshido.com. She’s actually their lead writer. She also writes for several print magazines and she’s the one who got me into this business.
“Hey girlfriend!”
I turn around and Molly’s standing right behind me holding her fight card.
“I see your brother is the main event tonight.” She says. “How’d he manage that?”
“The club’s doing this huge push to get him into Surge and tonight Mike White from Surge is going to be taking a look at him. I guess the club is hoping he’ll become the flagship fighter for the new year.”
“Wow! That’s impressive. I had no idea your brother was that good.”
“Yeah I didn’t either. The club is acting as his manager and they have some amazing coach working with him so they think he actually has a shot at this guy tonight.”