by Ryder Dane
Baron split his pants coming down out of the tree. They were covered in sticky pine tar, and had several scratches to show for their adventure. They continued on their way after a lot of cussing and complaining. The place called Honeycomb Hill was a dangerous place for the unwary. Years ago, when precious stones were found in the north end of the state, there were individual miners who sought to strike it rich in the mining of those stones. They would dig down as far as the bedrock, and created a honeycomb of twenty-foot deep mines. Some were quite large under the surface of the ground above them, and several people had lost their lives by falling into a hole that was covered by the long grasses growing on the hilltop.
Once they stopped, Baron changed his jeans, it pissed him off about the jeans, they were only a few months old. Cheap shit.
They were headed to one particular mine. The man who greeted them was a total whack job. He had a thing for metal, the more expensive the metal the better he liked it. They upended the bag of jewelry in a tub, and Midas started pawing through the chains and watches. If it wasn’t for the fact that Baron needed to pick up the melted and formed bars of platinum, gold, and silver, he wouldn’t have spoken to them further. He was lost in the land of shiny objects, and that was why he’d been living in this hole in the ground for five years. The Breed always brought him new shinnies, and their dedication to his craft, was gratifying. Midas was a find, War had found him somewhere out west, and allowed him to sift his fingers through the ten pound box of non-marketable jewelry. Midas named his price, and now belonged to the Breed. He didn’t leave the place unless he needed to go to town to buy food or whatever else he might need to live. He was like a mother hen with the objects they bought to him. The Club was happy, and for the price of a clean pierced pussy once a month plus a cut of the sale, he was cheap labor.
Baron special ordered a gift and explained what he wanted, while Midas nodded his head and grinned. His saddlebag was put into use to carry the small gold ingots, and Gunner had a smaller bag of diamonds and other gems, another containing the guts from the watches. Both bags would be dropped off with the gold to the Jewelry Exchange. It was a legit business, with an easy way of laundering money in solid metal form.
They left the odd little man, and headed to town. Gunner had his mind on the three men who followed them earlier. He didn’t see the buck come running out of the ditch on the side of the road. The animal collided with the side of the motorcycle and Gunner went down. He landed on his side with the bike on his leg, and pain so bad from his shoulder, that it took everything he had to stop himself from screaming.
Baron doubled back when he heard the crash of metal on concrete. Fuck, Gunner was down, and a ten point buck was on his front knees, flopping back and forth, trying to get up. He parked his bike and ran to where Gunner was laying. Thankfully he was alive and awake. He turned the key off to shut down the motor. He yanked the handlebars and seat, removing the heavy scooter off his best friend, and could see that Gunner needed an ambulance. The bone in his leg was showing through a grisly bloody mess of meat and muscle.
He tried to roll onto his back, but that wasn’t happening, the pain was excruciating. “Fucking shoot that bastard. Call the brothers and have them gut it. No sense in leaving good meat to rot on the side of the fuckin’ road. Fuck, my damn shoulder is broke or worse. My goddamned hip feels like I’ve been shot. Sorry to let you down, buddy, but I’m gonna be laid up for a while. Fuck, this is fucked up. My skull is pounding like a son-of-a-bitch.”
Baron let him ramble; as long as he was talking, he was alive, and he could run his pie hole for an hour if that’s what it took to keep him alive until the ambulance could get there. He’d called 911 once he had seen the leg, then he called the Clubhouse. He took Gunner’s semi auto .45 and put a bullet in the beautiful buck’s brain.
Myrtle cussed him for discharging the gun while her ear was so close to the noise coming from the phone. “Sorry, Gunner’s down, and we need a truck to haul his trophy. The fucker went hunting with his bike. Bagged a ten pointer. His bike is intact, but might need some attention too, so tell them to call John to meet us here. I’ll follow the medics to the hospital and keep you up to date.” He started to quit the connection, and remembered Melvin, “Hey, you mind taking care of Mel for me tonight?” She called him a dick and hung up on him.
He went back to Gunner, “You know there’s easier ways to get a few weeks off. Like maybe telling me you’re leaving for vacation? By the way, that is one majestic son-of-a-bitch you got there. Gonna have that rack mounted and put on the wall at the club.” He heard the meat wagon’s siren screaming through the early evening quiet. Gunner was out of his head, and couldn’t form a coherent sentence by now, so he didn’t bother asking him if he was carrying another piece. Gunner was always prepared. It felt strange searching his buddy, but found a belly gun and a toadsticker in his boot, and the one on his belt. The coiled garrote was added to his collection of weapons. He took them and the saddlebags to his bike. It might have been difficult to explain most of the items to curious civilians. He took the wad of cash, and sliced his own knife through the belt loop holding the chain attached to Gunner’s wallet. No way would he allow some stranger to pilfer through his best friend’s personal shit.
The ambulance finally stopped twenty feet from the bike and Baron was yelling at the EMTs. “Get your asses over here, he needs to go now. Load his big ass up and get him to the hospital.” They brought a backboard with them, and under normal circumstances, he might find the idea of the two volunteer medics attempting to pick up and carry his two hundred fifty pound friend hilarious, right now, it pissed him off. He grabbed the board and shoved it as far under Gunner’s body as he could, before rolling his shaking body on top of the rigid surface.
The older medic told him repeatedly to back off. He finally nodded his head and stood back while they worked on their patient. He was pressed into service lifting the oversized man onto the gurney and shoving it into the back of the truck. He gave the driver Gunner’s license and insurance card before they left with sirens screaming.
Two scoots and a pick-up pulled around him within minutes of the ambulance leaving. The police car showed up about the same time and took pictures of the bike and dead deer. It was a damned waste of time as far as Baron could see. He wanted to be on his bike and headed to the hospital, but he still had to deliver the merchandise, and get himself under control.
Chapter Fourteen
Two days after the accident, Baron was standing at Amy’s door. He needed her help, and she needed a place to park. If they could make her fall in with their plans, she would become a cherished house mouse. Gunner was in for a long convalescence, to the tune of a couple of months at the very least. The doctors had to pin his leg together, his hip had been dislocated, and he would need another surgery to get his shoulder back in working order. If she came with him to get the house ready for Gunner to stay, there was no going back. He had six Prospects and two trucks waiting his call to move her sweet ass out to the house.
She answered the door and felt a sense of panic when she saw his face. “What happened?” She grabbed his hand and he let her haul him inside the doorframe. She looked around outside of the door, but didn’t see Gunner anywhere.
“Where is he? Tell me, what happened, it’s Gunner, isn’t it?” She knew her voice was getting higher, but fuck it. She was already having a shitty day. She couldn’t find a place to move into, and the only buildings suitable for her to re-open her business were way out of her price range. The insurance company was still holding out, and the lawyer she’d talked to told her they were legally in their rights, she would have to wait them out, or move on. She’d just finished crying and washing her face when Baron knocked on her door.
He pulled her into his strong arms. “He’s alive, and he will be pretty messed up for a while, but he’s going to be alright. He’s looking at a long recovery.” He told her about the deer and the lousy past few days. “I came here to see you, and
to ask you for a favor.”
The trucks were loaded with her meager furniture and boxes of personal stuff that were already packed. Baron told Leech to make sure everything was treated gently and stored in one of the spare bedrooms, and her couch and tables were to go into his living room. She nodded at him and wiped her nose. She was on the verge of tears again, and pissed at herself for showing so much emotion.
Amy insisted on stopping at the hospital to see Gunner before they drove out to the house. When she saw him lying against the white cotton, she lost it. She walked to the end of his bed, and only Baron could see her clenched fists, while she lectured the sleeping man in broken words between gulps of air. “Damn you, you have to ride that damn bike all over the countryside during deer season. You both are lucky you weren’t shot by a stray bullet. What were you thinking, it was dusk, you guys were on motorized bicycles, and you know the deer are being run by dogs and men. I hope your pride is worth the pain. If you’d been in a truck, at least you might not have gotten so busted up.” She came around the bed and stood by his side, reaching out to touch his bruised face. Her thumb lightly rubbed over the beard covered dimple. “If you die, I’m gonna bitchslap your ass all the way to hell.” She leaned down and kissed his lips before turning to leave the room.
For the first time in days, Baron grinned. Gunner opened one eye, looking sideways. “Did she say yes?” He closed his eye when Baron told him yes. “That’s a plus, what the hell, bitchslap me?” He coughed and smiled as he fell back to sleep.
*****
They stopped off for dinner at the steak house. She devoured the first decent meal she’d eaten in weeks. Baron was happy to see that his woman liked her food and didn’t pick at a lone lettuce leaf and announce that it was too filling, or some such shit. She drank a beer with her meal just as if they’d been syncing each other’s likes for years.
They talked about the arrangements for Gunner’s homecoming and his care. “Well, I’ve never been around someone who needs constant nursing, but I promise to try my best. I can’t imagine that he is a good patient now, I might need a taser or bullwhip in a few weeks.”
On the way home, Baron thought about Amy and the very real possibility that she would be a permanent fixture in their lives. He needed to talk to her about what would be expected from her when they were at the clubhouse, or in a group of people. She was going to balk at the respect thing, but she needed to know and be on board with the program, or his and Gunner’s plans for her in their future would never work.
As their old lady, she would go from being a novelty to being a club princess, and that brought responsibility. The real Queen of the group of old lady’s was Vern’s old lady, Furfur. She was the eldest and had been with the club the longest. She was a mean old bitty, but there wasn’t a member of the brotherhood that would not die for her.
When they drove into the carport, she felt as if she was now home. Technically she was, at least for the foreseeable future. She needed to talk with Baron and set some limits. There was no question in her mind they would be having sex on a regular basis. Just as she knew that, her soul would be shattered when it was time for her to leave. It was a sorry state of her make-up, but she half suspected that she was falling in love with the men. Even sorrier was the fact she knew it and was stepping forward, and might as well be wearing a sign that said whore in big bold letters on her forehead. She was addicted to the big cocks that just happened to be attached to a couple of even bigger pricks that had the ability to make her heart smile.
It surprised her when Baron told her to make herself at home and start a list of groceries that she might need or want to cook for meals. “Look around, if you need something, put it on the list. He showed her where the deep freezer was, and she was impressed with the amount of game meat that she saw. Pheasants, turkey, and venison, not to mention several plastic bags of filet fish, made her want to start unpacking her pots and pans. She loved to cook and now she would have a reason.
“I need to be at the club in a few, I’ll be back tonight. He started to walk out of the door and turned around, grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close enough for a quick mouth fuck. “Be in my bed naked when I get home. I like the feel of your skin.”
She stood where he left her as he walked out of the door. She noticed that he locked the door behind him, and got a sappy smile on her tingling lips. It was still early, so she found the room that contained her boxes, and carried the kitchen things to the counter. It took her an hour to clean everything and put her dishes into the cupboard, she took particular pleasure in unpacking and putting away her cooking pans.
She took a long hot bath and relaxed for the first time in days. The idea of living here, taking care of the house and men, appealed to her feminine side. The knowledge that she would get as much of her brand of sex as she wished made her decision to stay for a while seem even more like the right choice. She climbed onto the big bed, and used the remote to flip through the channels. Seeing three porn stations didn’t surprise her, but she watched a particularly raunchy scene for a few minutes before changing the channel to a late night talk show. Somehow, the funny man sent her to sleep.
*****
The building choice was a good one. It was isolated enough that no one would notice the fire burning until the place was engulfed in flames. It was also far enough outside of town that there were no fire hydrants and water would need to be trucked in.
Baron stood back watching the flames lick the old paint on the outside of the building. Lloyd had been a hard ass to the end. Taking his knife to the man’s cock and balls loosened his tongue a little, but not enough. The two assholes with him only knew that he’d promised them a wad of cash for helping him recover money that he claimed had been stolen from him. They were shit eaters, and cried like babies when they saw his blades. Baron liked to make sure those who he killed remained dead. The knives lying on each man’s Adam’s Apple and pulled in opposite directions, sliced cleanly and deep.
Lloyd watched the coffin bait die with no expression. He smiled at Baron and Leech as they came for him. He thought he would get away with his throat slit, but the big men knew that. They used their imagination to get information from their victims. Right now, he was wishing they weren’t so crazy. Especially that big motherfucker, Baron. That fucker grinned while he’d sliced those boys up.
“I ain’t telling you shit, go ahead, and slice my throat. A man’s gotta die sometime, tonight looks like a good night to go as far as I can tell.” When his pants and shirt were sliced off his body by the pretty boy they called Leech, he figured he was in for an old fashioned ass reaming. He didn’t bother to tell them that that ship had sailed years ago. He was bi-sexual, so at least his last minutes on earth might be pleasurable. He didn’t expect the dual knives wielded by that crazy fucker to slice through the flesh surrounding his cock.
Baron was careful to cut at the precise angles for maximum pain. He knew the son-of-a-bitch expected an easy death. “Surprised? Now why would you be surprised that you are being taken out for attempting to steal from and probably kill me?” He stood back and let Leech at their victim.
“Now you see here, I tried to welcome you to the group, and even got Bernie to give you one of her specialty blowjobs. I’m gonna have to send her a box of candy to get the taste of a traitor out of her mouth. I happen to like ol’ Baron here, he and I bonded over bitches and beer many times. Ain’t that right, buddy?” Baron nodded his head and handed Leech a beer, then clicked bottles and saluted each other before upending the beer and swallowing it down without stopping. He tossed the bottle into the corner and went back to the ugly fucker that was standing in a small pool of his own blood. “I say you are working for ol’ Wolfman; Baron here, well he thinks you’re just a thieving asshole, but he thinks someone would sweeten your wallet if you killed him and you could keep the gold for yourself.” He stepped closer, “Truth is, you ain’t gonna leave this building, it’s up to you how you leave this world. You like pain? You
came to the right place. You wanna tell us how and why you found out about the gold, and why you tried to ambush our President, I promise you a quick death. No more slices into your skin like this one.” He stuck his knife in Lloyd’s chest, and sliced through his nipple and down to his last rib.
Leech was picking up a gallon of bleach that was at his side on top of a pile of old tires, and poured half of it over Lloyd’s head. The burning cleaner dribbled in his eyes, and he screamed, but his executioners stood back and smiled as they watched the liquid trail down his chest, making its way to the bloody slices in his skin. Their victim didn’t stop screaming until Baron slapped him hard. “What the fuck, man, women use the shit all of the time, I never seen one scream and whine like that. Better suck it up fucker, there’s still half a gallon left.” He shrugged his shoulders and nodded at Leech, who poured the rest of the corrosive over him again.
Their victim screamed, but wasn’t talking, so Baron showed Lloyd the wallet that had been in his pocket when he was taken. “Leech, look at this, the back of this picture of a pretty girl says, ‘To Uncle Lloyd, the best uncle a girl could have’. It’s signed Rebecca Ann Dryer. Can you read the sign in the background of the picture? Does that say Ingrid Heights? I wonder if she’d like a ride on a real bike, she’ll look good dancing on a pole at the club, right?”
That got a reaction from Lloyd, he started fighting, the harder he fought his bonds, the more his wounds bled. Baron reached out and slapped him up side his head. “Tell me what I want to know, or I will send Chaucer and Barney to pick her up, I’m not fuckin’ with you about this. Tell me what I want to know, or what happens to her is on you. It’s as simple as that. You’ll be dead, and she will be property for any cock that wants her. I might even be moved to send her to Wolfman and his posse, you know how much they like the tender young cunts like your niece, right? Isn’t Wolf the one that grabs girls off the streets and keeps them chained in his meth labs after they’re too worn out to be fucked anymore? By the time she’s twenty-five, Wolf will have fucked her and every one of his personal guard will have too. Hell, I remember old Wolfy fuckin' a young girl up bad, so bad, that she had to shit in a bag for almost a year before she was healed enough to do it the old fashioned way. I wonder how Rebecca will enjoy his fist up her ass?”