His Poppy: Furious Daggers MC

by Brogan Riley

  He’s gripping one of the bitch’s throat, squeezing it. The bitch starts shaking, his eyes almost pouring out of the sockets. Foam tinted with a delicate pink comes out of his mouth.

  I wonder why Spider and his other bitch are not moving. They’re frozen like some fucking ice sculptures. The silence is interrupted only by gurgling and wheezing sounds.

  My eyes travel to three tall figures. It’s Zeus and his two bitches, Poker and Wrath. Zeus is a mobster in the outer world. Here in the prison, he’s the king.

  Theodor slams the convulsing body on the wall and I hear the click of the bones. He leaps at Spider’s other bitch, grips his throat, and does the same. The guy is massive but as fast as lightning. When he’s finished, two smudges of blood paint the wall.

  Spider starts trembling.

  “On your knees, cunt,” Zeus says with a Spanish sounding accent, his blue eyes as cold as the sky above the Arctic.

  He is a well built man, as tall as I am. His hair has a dark brown colour as a few grey hairs shine around his right temple. His skin has an olive colour. A handsome man in his fifties, a lot of women would say, but I can sense the bloodthirsty beast in him.

  Theodor throws a towel at me and I wrap it around my hips.

  The wardens seem to be ignoring us, but that’s expected. Zeus is never to be disturbed. He’s behind bars, but he’s still a powerful devil in the outside world.

  Spider falls to his knees. Poker plunges his hand into his pants and exposes his dick. He strokes himself as Wrath follows him. I turn my face to Zeus as Theodor stands beside me.

  “I know who you are, Liberator,” Zeus says as he thrusts his chin out towards me.

  Right. My new bitch nickname.

  Spider’s whimpers blend with the sound of choking and diffuse into the steam filling the bathroom. Zeus’s bitches growl and chant.

  Yep, someone is getting fucked really rough.

  My eyes sail to the stream of blood flowing towards my feet, and I move aside.

  Yep, someone’s ass will require a surgery.

  Spider is a serial rapist. He should suffer and then he should die.

  Zeus bows his head at me and I bow back.

  Theodor and I sneak out of the bathroom. I slip into my prison clothes on my way along the dark corridor.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  Theodor grunts something, but I can’t discern the words.

  When I met him, he said his wife had cheated on him.

  It could always be worse. I could have gotten Spider for my roommate.

  Theodor is the mountain of a man with an ugly gob but it’s very convenient for me to be his roommate. He’s untouchable. Now I know why. He has powerful friends in here.

  I sneak into our cell. “I didn’t know you and Zeus—“

  “Zeus has a great respect for you,” he grunts.

  The guy is kind of unnerving, but like I said it’s good to have him on my side.

  Theodor and I stretch out on our beds. He starts talking and I have to listen to his stories—never-ending descriptions of his work, marriage, and unhappiness.

  The next morning I wake up only to see two wardens in our cell. They ask about the last night’s incident. Apparently, there’re two corpses to be cremated.

  “I didn’t see anything,” I say.

  “Neither did I,” Theodor says.

  The wardens leave the cell and we start our routine.

  Time passes.

  I work out, play chess with Theodor, and dream about my little flower.

  It’s been three months since I was brought to this prison.

  I’ve learned to sleep with one eye open.

  I’ve learned to avoid scum.

  I’ve learned who my friends and who my enemies are.

  Zeus eats every meal at my table or is it the other way round?—I eat every meal at his table?

  The majority of prisoners have respect for me. The news has spread very fast, I guess. The majority of wardens treat me well for the same reason. I’m the kind of celebrity in here.

  I’m fucking two hundred percent sure nobody knows who I really am. Zeus helped me because he likes my gob? Because he’s a nice helpful motherfucker? There’re rumours, but they’re only rumours. Nobody knows. Nobody will ever know. Or is it my wishful thinking?

  I try to focus on survival, but thoughts torment me.

  My wife hasn’t called me yet. Hasn’t visited me.

  That hurts.

  “You daydreaming about that little wife of yours?” Theodor asks from his bed.

  It’s always about her. Sin felt so sweet with her.

  I nod. “She’s tiny but curvy in all the right places.” My hands rise and I move them up and down as though I’m touching her.

  Declan visits me three times a month. Our charity will be shut down until everything fades away. All the evidence is hidden so that the cops won’t find anything. Our club is just a bunch of bikers that’s having a never-ending party now.

  Poppy is safe. Nobody knows where Doctor’s cabin is. Nobody except me.

  “She’s my heart, you know,” I say. “My joy. The air in my lungs. My soul. I was a soulless bastard before her.” Pain squeezes my heart. “Our baby will be born soon.”

  Theodor grunts like a bear, nodding. “You need to get out of here.”

  “Tell me more.”

  Sabine has accused me of breaking into her lab, stealing her patents, and attempting to murder her. She can give proof of my crimes apparently.

  The bitch is so fucking rich she could easily buy the forensic examiner’s fake report, the chief constable’s blind eyes and deaf ears, the detectives’ fake investigation papers, and the judge’s fake order. Rich people like her have the resources to cover their wrongdoing or to get rid of a hindrance like me.

  The door of our cell creaks open and two wardens walk in. One of them has black hair and the other is a ginger. They gesture for me to stand up and turn around. I’m a good boy.

  The black-haired warden cuffs me and shoves me out of my cell. “Move.”

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask as adrenaline fills my veins.

  “Move,” the ginger adds.

  I pull forward, watching them from the corner of my eye, looking for any signs of threat.

  They lead me down the stairs and then along a dirty corridor that opens into a square space encircled by a high metal fence. Droplets of rain settle to my forehead. We cross it, go through a metal door and then along a corridor with clean pastel walls. The wardens shove me through a barred door guarded by a female warden, and I find myself by the prison high wall. The black-haired warden pushes me towards a shed with a metal door.

  Something is very wrong. My mind detaches. I’m gonna fight until the last drop of my blood. I’m gonna die fighting.

  No, fuck no. Poppy is out there. I have to survive no matter what. I have to reunite with her and make her mine again. I want to hold my baby in my arms.

  The ginger opens the door as his colleague takes the cuffs off. They shove me inside. I steel myself as blood pumps in my ears. Then my eyes travel to a double bed covered by a grey blanket. I see a tiny figure perched on the mattress. My knees bend. I lower to the vinyl floor and sit on my heels.

  “Poppy?”

  She moves closer to me and sits down in front of me. Enveloped by the flowery fabric of her dress, her pregnant belly looks so fucking beautiful. So mine.

  “Poppy, what are you doing here?”

  “I’m having a conjugal visit,” she says, giving me a studied nod.

  “I don’t understand. I’m not permitted to have them. I’ve already asked, but they said I wasn’t permitted. And you… you… never even…”

  “I told them I had a learning disability and they pitied me.” She winks at me.

  I don’t understand. How did she manage to do this? Then I realise I don’t need to understand. She’s here and it’s all that matters to me.

  “Can we talk, Poppy?” I rasp.

 
; “If I’d wanted to talk I wouldn’t have demanded that they allow me to have a conjugal visit.” She frowns, her lips pursed.

  God, I love her so much.

  I shoot my arms towards her and pull her into my lap. My lips search for hers. I kiss her sweet gasps.

  I kiss her and then kiss her even more and it’s never enough. My hand travels to her swollen stomach. She must be five months pregnant. I’m facing at least fifteen years behind bars. My baby will grow up without their father.

  Poppy slips away from my lap and I see her wiggle out of her panties. She turns over so she’s on all fours, her ass waving in front of me.

  Fuck me. I didn’t expect that at all.

  I’m stunned, but my dick isn’t. He wants to be inside her.

  I open my jeans and release my hard cock. I need her tight pussy so much.

  I kneel behind her and pull the hem of her dress up. Her pussy glistens in the artificial light of two strips stretched along the ceiling. My pussy, so ready for me.

  I push my cock into her heat and the sensation of her walls clenched around me is so intense I almost cum.

  “Poppy?”

  “Later. Now, you just fuck me.”

  That’s my girl, so decisive, so fierce.

  Always so fuckable.

  I pump in and out as a wave of liberating heat shoots to my toes. I wrench in my pleasure with two more thrusts and pull out. My cum dribbles out of Poppy’s pussy.

  She turns to face me, sitting on her heels. Mortal seriousness paints her face. “In two days, remember to sit down in the corner of the van and make sure you fasten the seatbelt,” she whispers.

  “What?”

  “Ricky says his ‘hello’.”

  “Poppy?”

  “Do as you’re told.”

  An abrupt knocking on the door makes me jerk my head towards the source of the sound. The ginger walks in and tilts his head to me.

  I fling myself towards Poppy and press my lips against hers, but the wardens grab me and haul me out of the shed. Her sad face flashes in front of my eyes and then I can’t see her at all.

  I wriggle like a wild animal, but a cold, hard item strikes against the back of my head. Blackness obscures my vision. I feel weightless.

  “You want another conjugal visit?” the ginger rasps. “You do, so behave.”

  They haul me along the corridors and then up the stairs. I hover into my cell, hitting the wall, and Theodor helps me clamber onto my bed.

  Ricky?

  What’s going on?

  And Poppy?

  She’s different. Is she still mine?

  Chapter 18

  Poppy

  I settle myself into the passenger seat and tuck a wisp of hair behind my ear. Fiona flashes me a smile.

  “Everything according to plan?” she asks.

  I nod. “Yes.” Pain squeezes my heart. “He looks so tired.” A sense of guilt fills me.

  “What is it, honey?”

  “I abandoned him when he needed me the most.”

  Fiona starts the engine. “You needed time and he should have been more rational. Who goes into the heart of hell alone and unarmed?”

  “I made him irrational.” Yes, all of this is my fault. He is in prison because of me.

  Sabine has resources and connections. People like her are untouchable.

  I should have stayed with him, talked to him, made him abandon the idea of going there. I’m his wife and that’s what wives do—stay by their husband’s side.

  “I’m a shitty wife,” I say.

  Fiona strokes the back of my hand with hers. “We’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

  “I can do so little for him.”

  “You’ve done a lot. I’m so proud of you. My girl has just sneaked in and sneaked out of the prison building. Wow.”

  She’s always so nice to me.

  “That’s nothing,” I say.

  I just did what I had done most of my life. Easy. I’m good at being Poppy.

  I’m learning to be the other me.

  We drive out of the parking lot and turn onto the motorway.

  “The baby fine?” Fiona asks.

  “He’s naughty.”

  “Like his daddy. I’m so happy for both of you.”

  The word ‘daddy’ makes me cringe into myself, but I flash her the warmest of my smiles. This is just a word. The most beautiful word my baby can say one day. Jackson has the right to this word as does our baby.

  Fiona signed the divorce papers two weeks ago. Diana tossed her clothes into a small suitcase and caught a plane to Chicago where her parents live. I had witnessed that and after Diana had left, I watched Fiona eat a whole bucket of ice cream. She’s sad even though she’s trying to hide it. Tyler buys her flowers every day, but she can only bark at him.

  “Everything will be fine, Fiona.”

  “One day.” She draws in a deep breath. “I kind of used Diana. I thought she’d be a replacement for Jessica. But the truth is that nobody can replace Jessica.”

  “You will always love Jessica, but you can also love Tyler. And you should say your apology to Diana.”

  “She’s mad at me.”

  Yeah, she threw things at Fiona and me while packing her stuff.

  “Maybe if you’re honest with her she won’t be that mad,” I say.

  “Okay,” she says, nodding. “I’ll think about it.” She turns on the radio. “The sex with your old man was good?”

  “Of course. I’m good at fucking my husband.”

  She bursts into laughter. “That’s a very good skill, you know.”

  I’m good at shooting a gun. Maths is still a mystery to me, but my reading is much better.

  It takes us two hours and a half to return to the compound.

  My mom and Tommy are still staying at the cabin. I decided to be Jackson’s wife.

  As I enter the bar I see Ricky and Declan sitting on the bar stools. Cops pop in two, three times a week. It’s not safe here anymore, so the club is moving somewhere else. Jackson doesn’t know this yet.

  We have to get him out of prison and vanish.

  Jackson

  With my head lowered, I step into the back of the van as Poppy’s words waver in my head.

  They won’t do this.

  Ricky?

  Why would he want to do this? We’re not friends. We’re two business associates.

  A blast of realisation lights up my mind. Of course, he will do this. I’ll burn my boats. My club the same.

  The area will belong only to Ricky.

  He’s an honourable man, but he’s also a mobster. Men like him are greedy for power and land.

  I fasten my seatbelt as the chain connecting the cuffs on my wrists with those on my ankles clinks. I must have cost Ricky a hell of a lot of money. He must have bribed a number of people to organise my transfer to another prison.

  I steel myself.

  A warden walks into the back of the van. He thrusts his chin out towards me.

  “Get out,” he says.

  “Me?” I ask.

  “Yes, you,” the warden says. “Get out of the van. Now.”

  Fuck. It looks like I’m not going to flee.

  I’m going to rot in here.

  Poppy

  Something is wrong. Fiona looks at her watch every ten seconds.

  “They’re late,” I say.

  “No, they are not.” She nods to herself. “Maybe a bit.”

  I said my goodbyes to my mom and Tommy yesterday. They must be heading towards France now. My mom is pregnant and Tommy decided he wanted to raise his child far from the club.

  I tossed some clothes and toiletries into a small bag in the morning. I’m holding the fake documents from Tank against my chest.

  I’m the other me now. Kind of. Tank said I could keep my first name, given to me at birth, given to me by the monster my father was, but he came up with a lovely fake last name for me—Auborge. He said the cops wouldn’t be searching for anyone named like me. Th
ey’ll assume I’ve changed both my first and my last name.

  “They didn’t make it,” I say as nervousness makes me feel shaky and dizzy.

  “There’s still time.”

  I huff out.

  Stop whinging.

  The other me is strong. She dares have hope. She wants to live and enjoy life.

  “They will make it,” I say more to myself.

  Fiona’s eyes meet mine as one corner of her lips crooks up. “That’s my girl.” She strokes my pregnant belly with her hand. “And that’s my little treasure.”

  Jackson

  My head feels like a swollen ball full of pulsating, sharp pain. Smoke burns down my throat and bites my lungs. A hand tugs my arm. I growl. I’m part blind and part deaf.

  The warden told me to get off the van so I did. I thought I would return to my cell, but I was led over to see Zeus instead.

  Zeus wanted to say a fucking ‘good luck’. He wanted to pat my shoulder, had to offer his help in case I needed it.

  The dick said ‘my sister-in-law did a good job’. A fucking lunatic.

  I returned to the van and it left the prison building. Fifteen minutes later, the driver slammed on the brakes. The vehicle started doing some fucking ice dancing. It turned abruptly and fell over.

  I know this trick—it’s my very own recipe—an oil spill, a false pregnant woman with an empty pram to disrupt the convoy, gas grenades.

  The driver keeps groaning. He’ll be dead soon if there’s no help for him. The two other prisoners are groaning and gasping. Blood is everywhere. The sound of an ambulance siren tears at the air.

  Many hands haul me out of the van.

  “You fine, Prez?” This is Tyler’s voice like an echo from a distance.

  I can’t answer. My throat is too dry, too swollen.

  I’m lifted. I feel weightless. I feel timeless.

  “Man, you’re heavy.” This is Declan’s voice, liquidly and painful to my ears.

  All the faces around mine are a blur to me. Everything is slow and fuzzy.

  I rest against a cold surface. A car’s roof is above me.

  No.

  Her face is above mine.

  “Jackson,” she says, stroking my cheek with her tiny hand.

  “I’m fine,” I rasp.

  She kisses my forehead and strokes my hair. I’m in heaven.