by H. J. Bellus
I wave my card at him.
“Debit or credit?”
“Credit, please. I have a question for you, Kevin. Say you just landed your dream job, and wanted to celebrate a little, but have no friends here in this town. What would you do?”
“Well, you have a couple options, you could grab the train and head downtown. Lots to do. I’d suggest Voodoo Doughnuts. If you’re visiting, you have to try them. Then there are lots of bars down there, too. I’m off in thirty minutes if you want a tour guide.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. Have a nice night.”
Any other night, I would have taken the fine young man up on his offer. Hell, I’ve been called a cougar before, but tonight I just want some alone time to reflect on the journey that has led me to this pivotal place in my life, and I do believe a doughnut would be perfect to help me just do that.
***
Kevin was right. Downtown Portland is very intriguing. I wondered around for about an hour before finally spotting the doughnut shop. It was a compact, buzzing little joint. The line was out the door, but I only ended up waiting in line for fifteen minutes. I settled on a chocolate cake doughnut. I really wanted about six more to stuff my face with, but decided it was more important to stay out of a coma.
Mentally, I give myself a pat on the back as I settle onto a picnic table near the bustling street, but nestled just far enough into the dark alley that I’m not easily spotted. Nights like this, I would definitely have ended up back in Mr. Masonite’s room, or even hitting up his right hand man, Brad, again. Seducing men has become a nasty habit and almost a reassuring claim to the power I have. Sometimes I really wish that knitting or underwater basket weaving would satisfy my needs, but dull pastimes never have had enough bite to keep me entertained.
Fuck! That doughnut was amazing. Sitting here licking the crumbs off the wrapper, I mentally kick my ass for not ordering more. Speaking of the little piece of heaven, I wonder how many carbs it was. When living with diabetes from birth, you become a pro at counting and adjusting on the fly.
I take a moment from people watching to test my blood and then do my shot of insulin. A loud ruckus from behind me grabs my attention as I place all my stuff back into my purse.
“Motherfucker!” a deep voice echoes.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Animal,” comes another from out of nowhere.
“We had a deal. You cross the Devils and you’re fucking done.”
I stand to leave, because clearly the two dark shadows berating each other are not aware of their audience, nor do I believe they want one. Something in my gut of guts screams at me to fucking run and not look back.
Grabbing my purse, I set out to do just that when a smooth leather glove covers my mouth.
“Wrong place, wrong time, bitch,” a voice growls in my ear.
I instinctively use my elbow and jab it as hard as I can back into the person’s gut. I’m only met with a rock wall of abs. Panic sets in and I start to thrash around when I see a bright flash of light go off and then three very loud cracking sounds.
“Like I said, wrong fucking place.”
The man wraps me up in his arms with his hand still covering my mouth. He starts to walk away and I really panic with the thought of my purse being left behind. I make a rash decision and sink my teeth into the man’s hand. I can tell the tips of his fingers are exposed, so I make sure to get skin in my bite. My last ditch effort to run.
“You little fucking cunt,” he roars as he raises his arm, and I now see the pistol he’s holding, aiming straight at my head.
“Grizz, let’s go,” the man from the alley yells.
Then I see the gun come closer and everything goes black.
***
Grizz
“What the fuck, Animal? Prez specifically told us no blood. What do you do? You shoot three motherfucking Devil’s Idols brains out in an alley. You’ve just rained hell on the club.”
“Okay, pussy. What were you doing? Trying to fuck that hot little thing. You drug a fucking witness into this shit.”
“You’re the dumb motherfucker who started shit before checking the area. Fuck,” I roar, slamming my fist on the dash.
“Did you leave any shit behind when you grabbed her?”
“Naw, I grabbed her purse.”
“Then what’s the problem? As soon as we get to the mountains, we’ll cap her ass,” Animal suggests.
“You just fucking killed three Devil’s Idols, and you’re worried about her?”
“Calm your fucking shit, Grizz, I’ll let ya fuck her first. I’ll take seconds, and then we’ll put her down.”
“Mayor is gonna kill you, Animal. You better hope she has the tightest pussy your dick has ever landed,” I say as I tip back my whiskey.
“They killed my pops. I owed them, and if Mayor takes that shit out on me, so be it. Fuckers deserved it.”
“I hear your ass, but it’s all about keeping peace out on the fucking street. This is going to be a fucking shit storm on the club,” I reply.
“Let’s stay the night in the next town, land some pussy, and then ditch the bitch in the back. Sound good?”
“Sounds fucking perfect to me.”
“You grabbed her purse?”
“Yeah,” I reply, as I pour more liquid down my throat.
“What’s the bitch’s name?”
I grab her fucking huge black bag that she could have easily stored a body in, and dig around for her ID, or just a hint at her name.
“Well, who the fuck is she?” Animal asks again.
I finally find her driver’s license, flip on the dome light, and read her name. Piper Jones. Her fucking picture on her license is gorgeous. Long auburn hair, olive skin, and a haunting stare. She is simply fucking beautiful.
“Piper. Piper Jones.”
I continue to dig in her bag to find an ID badge for Nicholson Inc. Her title seems pretty fucking fancy to me, Head of Operational Systems. Gum, lotions, more girly shit, condoms and a first aid kit fill her purse. WTF? Why the hell does she have a first aid kit? I pull a larger box from her bag.
“Ah, shit.”
“What?” Animal asks.
“I think she’s sick or something. There’s all kinds of meds and shit in here.”
“You can’t off a sick broad?” Animal chuckles.
Animal’s burner phone goes off in the truck, and we both know who’s calling him. Animal is the vice president of Iron Sinners, and is well known to butt heads with the prez, Mayor. On more than one occasion, they have fought over petty shit. Mayor is going to blow his ever living fucking top with the news Animal is about to drop.
I understand Animal’s reasoning, but Mayor saved me at a time in my life when I was undeniably beyond repair, destined for the grave, and for that, I owe everything to him and this club. If it ever came down to Animal or Mayor, I would be on Mayor’s side. One thing I do know, tonight’s act of revenge is not going to help anyone’s situation. It may have soothed over old wounds, but that’s the extent of it. The damage tonight will wreak havoc on our club and everyone in it. But if there’s one thing I stand for, it’s my club. It always will be my club
“Mayor,” Animals answers. “You bet it was me. All me. I fucking capped all three of the fuckers. They started talking how my dad squealed like a pig, and…” Animal falls silent as he listens to Mayor. “Understand. Got it. We have a girl. Grizz spotted a woman who witnessed the whole scene, he grabbed her.”
This time I hear the words from Mayor. “You fucking illegitimate fucks. One simple job. I send you to do one motherfucking simple job that a prospect could have handled and you fuck it all to hell. Get rid of the bitch and get your dumbasses home.”
“See you tomorrow night, Mayor. It’s gonna be all good. Trust me.”
“Fuck, I’d trust a two-year-old more than you right now.”
Animal snaps his phone shut and cranks the music as we continue down the road. After hours of driving, we pull into a piece of shit d
ilapidated hotel.
“Really, Animal? Fucking classy.”
“Cheap blowjobs, dumb fuck.”
“Go get us a room, fuckwad. I’ll wait here,” I demand.
Animal goes for the front door. He is one charismatic motherfucker, and if anyone could get something for free, it’s him. He’ll probably be behind the counter getting blown while paying for the fucking room. The dark black bag next to me catches my attention, along with the white box peeking from it.
“We really fucked up tonight,” I whisper to no one but myself.
I glance back at the woman lying unconscious in the backseat with dried blood that flowed down the front of her face now crusted over her delicate pale skin. Her bright auburn hair covers her facial features, but I have them fucking memorized from her driver’s license. That was my first mistake, I never should have looked at her face.
Drug dealers, other clubs, and anyone who crossed the club I’ve always easily taken care of. There has only been a handful of women, and those cunts deserved what they had coming. But this. This just doesn’t settle well with me at all. She was sitting at a picnic table. I spotted her out of the corner of my eye when Animal approached the fucking Devil’s Idol to supposedly straighten shit out. I went over to scare her the fuck off, but Animal was dead set on seeking revenge, and attained those three fucking glorious seconds of it before I could get this bitch to leave.
Nothing feels better than revenge, but it’s always short-lived and never fucking worth it in the long run. Just one glance at me, and I’ll sell you on that fucking fact. A walking case of avenging has done me no good. Ride, fuck a little, and serve the club is all I focus on now. Fuck revenge and the people who even made it worth seeking. They can all rot in hell. I’ll just continue to ride.
I do know one thing. This girl deserves nothing of what’s coming her way. I brush back her lock of hair to get a glimpse at that face again, and that’s when I notice the silver bracelet with the medic alert on her wrist with one word: diabetes.
“Ah, fuck. Are you kidding me?” I whisper.
Animal swings the door open in the next moment and says, “Let’s roll this bitch into a room and go find some food and pussy.”
“Room number?” I ask.
“Eighteen,” Animal says as he goes to grab the girl.
“I got her. Go out, man. I’m gonna stay behind with her.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Grizz? You’re the man of all pussy eating men, and you’re seriously gonna pass on me right now?”
“You’ve fucking started a shitstorm with another club, and we’ve kidnapped a fucking innocent woman. Mayor is gonna kill one of us for all this shit, and it’ll probably be me. So, yeah I’m staying the fuck in tonight.”
“Fuck you, then. I’m out,” Animal hisses.
I barely have enough time to lift the body from the backseat and grab her purse before Animal is squealing the truck out the parking lot. I can bet my ass that I’ll be driving tomorrow morning if we’re even able to find Animal after his victory night out on the town.
With the stranger draped over my shoulder, her purse on my other shoulder and trying to unlock the door, I’m sure I look like an average everyday fucking prince rescuing his princess. Fuck that shit. I need to call Mayor and have a talk because this shit just doesn’t feel right. Mayor saved me at my worst, and will always be my fall back guy. Animal is the VP, but is widely known to party too much and think too fast. Prime fucking example: the shit he landed us in tonight.
Laying down the girl, I take my coat off and hang it on the back of the chair and grab my burner. Motherfucker! I must have left it out in the truck. Some good fresh air and a talk with Mayor should straighten all this shit out.
***
Piper
My head. Oh my freaking head. A leather glove with exposed finger tips covered my mouth, I bit and then it all went black. Trying to sit up, I grab for my head, and am immediately sent straight back down into paralysis. The combination of the wound on my head and low blood sugar is just about to send me back down. I try one more time, but not grabbing my head. I finally manage to sit up on my own and slowly gain my own bearings. A room. I’m in a room. A cheap, nasty fucking hotel room.
My sense of hearing kicks in, and I immediately notice the cold, dead silence filling the filthy little two bed hotel room. Did they ditch my body? Then I finally realize, I didn’t see any faces or hear any names. I have to be out of the clear…they abandoned me. Time to run. Standing to my feet, I fall instantly back down. I need insulin now. Digging deep, finding everything I have, I make it over to the table by the door to my purse.
At first glance, everything is there including my insulin and first aid kit. My blood sugar registers over three hundred. Fuck! I’m so lucky that I woke up before I slipped into a coma.
Ten minutes later, with a solid head on my shoulders to run to the nearest gas station or safe looking house, I grab the door knob to make my escape. I fly out the door and round the nearest corner, colliding straight into a brick wall of a man.
“Excuse me,” I say, without looking up.
I step to the side and try to make a run for it. My arm is caught and once again I’m slung up into the arms of a stranger with my mouth covered. Covered with that same very familiar half-gloved hand.
“Don’t fucking fight me on this,” he growls.
This man clearly has no idea who Piper Jones is. I’m all about the fight and even more about the victory. This time I bite so hard I draw blood.
Chapter 3
Piper
“Who the fuck do you think you are,” I yell as the large man throws me onto the bed.
“Your worst fucking nightmare, sweetie pie.”
“Just let me go, please.”
“Not happening,” he says as he sits on the bed and begins to untie his boots.
“I didn’t see anything. I don’t know names or places. Let me go. I have a very important meeting in the morning,” I beg.
“Not happening,” he replies again.
“Let. Me. Fucking. Go,” I roar, as I sling the Bible from the nightstand and nail him in the back of the head.
“Listen here, bitch, you’re now property of the Iron Sinners motorcycle club. You ain’t fucking going nowhere without one of us. Got it? You witnessed a fucking crime that could put a fellow brother away for life. You’ve been spotted with us by a rival club. You are now marked as a motherfucking Sinner. You leave our side and the Idols will put a really shiny bullet straight through your skull. You’re a walking, talking dead bitch just waiting to get popped. So shut the fuck up.”
Did I just really hear him say property of the sinners? Bullet in my head?
“So, you’re telling me I have a ticking death threat that could expire at any given moment?”
The man stands, faces me, baring all of his ink and replies, “And I forgot to add shut the fuck up.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
He comes closer in an intimidating stance and bends down so we are face to face. “Does any of this read as if I were kidding you, bitch?”
His minty breath reverberates off my skin and envelops all of my senses. He was the bad guy and I, the victim, but god damn he’s gorgeous.
“Let me fucking go. I don’t care about any of that shit.”
I lunge forward off the bed, catapulting myself into his chest and begin my fight to escape. My surprise assault knocks him off balance and he falls back on the bed. I run for the door. Fuck! My bag. I take three steps back, grab my bag, and run.
Halfway out of the parking lot, I'm brought down by my hair.
“You dumb cunt. What part of my speech didn’t you get?” the man growls in my face.
He rips me up by the hair and drags me back to the room.
“I’m done playing nice. You want to run and piss me the fuck off, then you’re going to be treated like a fucking piece of trash.”
“I need to go. I have to close the biggest d
eal of my life in the morning. Please. I won't say a word.”
“Fuck you.”
He grabs my hands and ties them behind my back, then throws me back onto the bed.
“Please. The business world forgets about you in ten minutes. I’ve worked my whole life to get on the top. I need to go back.”
He ignores me. Flat out refuses to look at me or even acknowledge the words I’ve just spoken. Instead he begins to undress. His shirt is now lying on the floor. His pants are off. Just his boxers remain. Is he fucking kidding? I know I should be scared at this very moment, but the cold harsh truth is he can take anything from me right now as long as he lets me out of that door in time for my meeting tomorrow.
I've done worse to escape other situations.
“Please. I'll do anything,” I beg once more, emphasizing my last word.
This time my plea grabs his attention. He knocks me back on the bed and instantly covers my body with his large frame.
“Quit fucking begging. Shut the fuck up. We own you now.”
“Nobody fucking owns me. Let me go, you fucking piece of shit,” I scream and spit in his face.
“You dumb cunt,” he hisses as he wraps his hands around my throat and tightens them.
All is black once again.
I hear the faint sound of water running, and for the third time today or tonight or whatever the fuck time of day it is, I wonder where I am.
Then he appears again, and all my memory is restored in a flash. The flash from the blasts of the gun, the flash of pain in my head, and the flash of agony in my heart for the loss of a deal of a lifetime.
“This shit finally sink in to your fucking little brain?”
I refuse to acknowledge or even talk to the bastard. My brain and mouth are sealed for the night until the next moment I glimpse a chance to escape. However, my eyes cannot look away. The man has no shame, walks out into the open area of the hotel room completely naked, and speckled with water drops from his shower. His ass is nice and tight, and that fucking back of his is so dreamy it makes me want to do very bad things to him.