Burn to Ashes

by Brynn O'Connor

  Blade scrambles for his syringe he dropped when they burst into the room. The woman, back on her feet scrambles across the bed in the direction of the night table where her purse rest. Screw licks his lips absently. As the woman crawls her nightie rides up over her hips exposing the finest ass he’s ever seen. Blade on the other hand is all business as he recovers the fallen syringe.

  “Don’t let her get that purse you moron!” Blade shouts. “She’s got a gun in it.”

  “Shit!” Screw swears.

  He dives across the bed grabbing at the woman’s ankles. He gets one ankle, but the woman manages to kick him square in the nose with the other. Pain explodes in Screws face causing him to let go of her ankle momentarily. He lurches forward and grabs wildly at her legs. This time he gets both of them. He yanks her towards him.

  “Got you bitch!”

  The woman twists around till she’s lying on her back and brings her right arm up in front of her.

  “No, I got you mother fucker!” He shrieks as she lets loose a thick spray from her mace can. The bulk of the contents strikes Screw in the nose and eyes incapacitating him in an instant.

  Screw lets go instantly and rolls off the bed wiping at his eyes with his shirt sleeve. He roars with rage as he struggles to breathe. He can hear sounds of struggle around him but there’s no way in hell he can see what is going on around him. The woman is screaming and shouting for help and his brother is calling for her to shut up or he’ll kill her instead of just putting her to sleep. Screw crawls across the floor hoping he’s going in the direction of the bathroom. He thought when he got shot he was miserable, but it pales in comparison to his current situation. His eyes feel like they’re burning hot coals and his throat feels like it’s closed up so tightly it’s like trying to breathe through one of those little cocktail stirrers.

  Suddenly he feels a hand on his shoulder. ‘You gonna live?” Blade asks.

  “Think so…” Screw croaks.

  “Well we got her but we gotta get out of here. We should have been done with this thirty minutes ago.”

  “I need water to rinse my eyes and clear my throat.”

  “Well get it already.” Blade demands.

  “Can’t see.”

  “Fine.” Blade replies.

  Blade retrieves a plastic cup, walks into the bathroom and scoops a glass full from the toilet.

  “Don’t know if you’re in on Corky’s plan or not,” he says under his breath. “But I don’t think you’re completely innocent either.”

  He walks over to where Screw is lying on the floor and hands him the cup. Screw takes the cup and pours half over his face, concentrating on his eyes. Then he takes a long drink of the cold water.

  “Fuck!” He swears. “This shit tastes like crap. Remind me never to stay here.”

  Blade smiles and waits for his associate to finish rinsing. Finally Screw can open his eyes enough to see. The woman is fast asleep on the bed. Her skirt is pulled up over her hips again. Screw’s eyes rake over her soft bronzed skin, taking in every curve and contour of her body until they arrive at their destination; her silky smooth slit. He doesn’t even bother looking to see if her breasts are exposed. The nasty cunt’s cunt is enough. His cock straining against his zipper urges him to action. He reaches out placing a tentative hand on her upper thigh. Her skin is warm and oh so smooth. His fingers slide up her inner thigh and stop at the entrance to paradise. He licks his lips. Just a taste, he tells himself. I’ll just stick one finger in, put it out and lick it clean.

  He takes a deep breath, repositions himself on the bed beside her, and then places his finger across her pristine slit. He can almost smell her sex already.

  Suddenly his head explodes and his world goes black. Screw sees stars and he falls off the bed and onto the hard floor.

  “What the fuck was that for?” He asks Blade, rubbing his jaw.

  “No spoiling the merchandise.”

  “Oh come on,” Screw complains as he gets up. “Just a taste. Nobody will know, especially not her.”

  “I’ll know. I ain’t no rapist. Besides boss said not to spoil the goods so we’re not spoiling the goods. Now grab her legs and let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Buzz fucking kill!” Screw snarled.

  “Grab her legs ass wipe or I’ll put you down and do it all myself.”

  I bolt upright in my bed clinging to my sheets.

  “What was that?” I gasp.

  I’m just about to write it off as a dream when I hear a bang; not like a gun going off, but a bang nevertheless. Then a half a second later a woman’s scream and then it’s like a herd of elephants having an orgy in the room next to mine. For a few seconds it’s all I can do but sit here in terror. I’m able to pick out one female voice and at least two male ones, and they do not sound friendly.

  “Should I get involved?” I wonder out loud.

  And then, about the time I decide to call the manager of the hotel I hear a door slam; a car door outside. I run to the curtain and carefully draws it aside just enough to see what is going on. Two very large biker types are shoving an unmoving female into a white pest control vehicle. She can’t see the plate from her vantage point but she memorizes the name of the business as it drives off into the night. Quickly I locate the motel stationary and jots down the name of the business; Cal West Pest Control. There was no contact phone number on the side. Well, obviously it was a bogus business. No pest was as big as the one they carried out. I grab up my cell phone. It’s 11:49a.m. Adam is about a half hour late.

  Then, the moment I decide to call Adam his truck pulls into their parking spot. I open the door and usher him in with a long deep kiss.

  “Whoa… I should stay gone more often.” Adam laughs. “To what do I owe that welcome home kiss?”

  “I just saw a terrible thing not two minutes ago.”

  Seeing the fear in her eyes Adam takes her hand and leads her over to the bed. He sits down beside her and wraps his powerful arms around her shaking shoulders.

  “I was sleeping…and some noises woke me up. Two biker types kidnapped some girl out of the room right next door!”

  “Holy shit, are you serious?” Asks Adam, clearly alarmed.

  “Yes! I saw them carrying out a dead or unconscious girl. They stuffed her into this old white van with Cal West Pest Control on the side. I couldn’t catch the plates.”

  Adam springs up off the bed. “Grab your shit Kari! We gotta get out of here now!”

  “What are you talking about? They took someone else.” Kari objects.

  “Think about it Kari, what are the odds that on a night when I’m gone, two bikers kidnap a woman next door to you?”

  “So what are you saying then? They were sent to take me but got the wrong room?”

  A sudden chill creeps over me and I start shivering.

  “That means very soon they’re going to figure out they have the wrong girl and go after the right girl.” Adam concludes. “And since it’s already been bungled once they’ll likely send in the heavies just to make sure it goes down right this time. We have to leave now Kari!”

  I spring into action. I don’t need further convincing. I can see the cold certainty in Adam’s eyes. He is certain they’re coming back and I do not want to be around when that happens. Fortunately we don’t have a lot of things. That’s what happens when you’re on the run. You tend to leave things behind every time you have to get out of dodge.

  Ten minutes later we pretty much have everything we need. The other non- essential stuff Adam begins stuffing into a green garbage bag.

  “What are you doing with that stuff?” I ask. “Why not just leave it?”

  “I don’t want to leave any clues that we were here. Why make this easy for them. They’ll come back, but may not be sure what room we were in and if they’re not sure they’ll have a harder time tracking us. They don’t want to run the risk of tracking the wrong girl. They’ll have to wait to make sure this was our room before spending the
time looking for clues we may have left behind.”

  Adam goes out to his truck then returns with a bottle of cleaner. He begins to spray down surfaces then wipe them with a cloth to erase any fingerprints.

  “Can they get our prints and identify us?” Kari asks skeptically.

  “Son’s don’t have any relationships with the cops so they couldn’t, but I’ve heard rumors about Cycle Demons and some of Oakland PD’s undercover guys. Maybe some of them would run prints. They’d consider it outlaw biker business and wouldn’t really care if other bikers, us, get hurt.”

  “How awful! Whatever happened to protect and serve?”

  “Oh they serve alright,” Adam begins. “It’s just themselves that they serve; at least some of them. So yeah…we don’t want to leave any prints behind. I want them wondering what trails to follow. That’ll give us time to get set up somewhere else.”

  “What about that cabin you have by Lake What’s-it-called that your long lost uncle nobody knows about left you?”

  “Were you smoking something tonight?” Adam asks.

  “You know, in the movies when the girl has to hide out until the danger is over her man always seems to have a secret cabin to hide out in that is off the books.”

  “You watch way too much TV; now let’s go.”

  “To your secret cabin…”

  “Some might call it that,” he replies. “Although I believe the correct term would be outhouse.”

  “Very funny. But seriously, where we going?”

  “To another motel. Until this is over you…we, have to stay one step ahead of Ripper and his crew. Tonight we were one step behind and it was a clusterfuck on their end that saved you, not me, and certainly not staying one step ahead of them. Next time we may not be so lucky.”

  Chapter Three

  A Second Chance

  It’s nearing one in the morning when Adam finally settles on our new outhouse. Tonight, and for the foreseeable future we’re the new neighbors from room 209 at the sumptuous, Lunar Inn. It’s actually a leap above the last place we stayed at. Adam’s thinking is that they’ll be looking for another fleabag motel like the last one believing that we are probably low on funds by now. I know I’m low on funds and I’m not even the one footing the bill for our digs the last three months or so. When this is all over and I’m back in my own house I’ll have to do something really nice like refurnish Adam’s apartment or something.

  I called dibs on the shower so now I’m relaxing in bed wearing nothing but a towel while Adam is in the shower. I still feel like I haven’t quite washed all the grime from the garbage barge off me yet. My skin is still raw in places from constant scrubbing.

  Twenty minutes later a Greek god steps out of the bathroom draped in a too small towel.

  “Who are you?” I ask mischievously. “And what have you done with my boyfriend?”

  “He uh-”

  “Never mind,” I interrupt. “He’s yesterday’s news, now come to mamma.”

  As he saunters over to my side of the bed my eyes start at his face but some inexplicable force just draws them downward. I pause for a moment on his broad shoulders and a long knife scar on his left side. My heart pounds in my chest as my gaze focusses on his smooth, muscular chest. Moving further south. The man has abs! He stops at the side of the bed within arm’s reach…so I reach. I let my fingers do the walking, beginning with his obliques and down to the towel carelessly draped around his hips and only barely covering his manhood. My breath quickens and desire inflames my sex. I hook my index finger into the top of his towel and gently tug. His sparse covering unravels on my second tug. I watch with baited breath as the cotton material falls in slow motion revealing the dark curly hair surrounding the base of his cock. As the towel slides down his engorged member springs free.

  Not all men are beautiful. In fact, most men’s bodies are not nearly as beautiful as women’s tend to be; not so with Adam. They say that women are not visually oriented the same way men are. I say bullshit! One look at what I’m seeing and anybody would become visually oriented. I scoot myself farther down in the bed and Adam shifts closer to the head of the bed. Almost on its own accord, my hand finds his cock and begins to manipulate it. He’s hard as a rock, pulsating, throbbing, and unbelievably freaking hot. I reach around with my free hand, grab his ass, and pull him to my open mouth.

  Just at the moment when I sense Adam is about to lose it I stop my oral worship, bite down on the inflamed tip, smack his ass hard and shove him backwards with a bare foot on his chest. He goes stumbling backwards and flops hard into a chair.

  “What the hell was that?” He exclaims.

  Instantly I’m on top of him, just hovering high enough to prevent him skewering me.

  “Just preventing you from thinking about baseball,” I finally reply.

  “Baseball?”

  “Yeah,” I reply. “Isn’t that what most men think about when they don’t want to cum just yet?”

  “No…I mean I guess, but I’ll take baseball any day over the ass kicking you just gave me.”

  For a reply I just grab his cock by its engorged base and lower my inflamed box down till he can’t go any deeper. Suddenly my whole body rocks as waves of pleasure travel from my pussy, up my quaking spine, to my fevered brain and back down to my curling toes. Adam’s powerful thrusts subdue the wild, sex-crazed beast in me! Finally after god only knows how long, we both collapse on the bed; spooning.

  My head is still buzzing with pleasure when he breaks the silence.

  “How are you doing Kari?” He wants to know.

  “Holy crap Adam after that? I’m like this giant bundle of nerves singing your praises, how do you think?”

  “I mean, how are you doing with this whole life on the lam thing?”

  “Oh…well…it’s not nearly as romantic as I had imagined.”

  “Yeah there’s not much that can be said positively about living in flea bag motels and in constant danger. But I’ve done this before so I am concerned with how you may be taking all this. It’s been over three months now. How’re you holding up?”

  “Well this helps!” I reply, indicating our entwined bodies. “Seriously it does. It helps me feel connected with you. It’s easy to start feeling lonely when I can’t see my sister or my best friend, or even my colleagues at work. I’ve been feeling pretty isolated and I totally understand why we have to do this. But too much isolation is not a good thing especially for someone whose always been surrounded by people. When we make love I start to feel connected again and that gives me strength far more than a good night’s sleep could ever do.”

  “I tried to tell you this life would not agree with you; it’s become far more than you signed up for. But what’s done is done. What I can do now is just make sure you don’t get swallowed up by loneliness. You’re helping me as well.”

  “Really…in what way?”

  “You’ve completely upended the natural biker pecking order so to speak. For my entire life it’s been the club first, me second, then everything or everyone a distant third. That’s the way things should be in the world according to Adam. Then I met you and I have been helpless to resist your charms. My status in the outlaw MC community has been seriously eroded and that’s why dirt bags like those guys last night felt they could actually steal my girl right out from under my nose; so to speak. They would not have dreamed of doing that with the old Adam around. Fear would have kept them in place. That that happened is a warning that I am getting weaker and losing respect and fear on the streets. If I am to keep you safe then I need to restore the balance.”

  Having given his little speech Adam rolls over and gets out of bed. That’s not what was supposed to happen after my sharing. He quickly dresses and puts on a new leather jacket I’ve never seen before. The presence of the three part patch in the back and the diamond 1%’er patch on the front proclaim that the wearer is affiliated with an outlaw biker club. He also has another small rectangle patch with the word president st
itched on it. The name of the new MC is Iron Brothers; it’s simple and to the point. But he’s got some work to do before his newly founded club becomes an actual club and not just a dozen guys who happen to love motorcycles. I am confused about the 1%’er patch. I thought he was done with the outlaw biker days and going legit. Have I misjudged him or has he changed back to who he used to be. If that’s the case I’m not sure I can still be with him. I have to ask.

  “What’s with the little diamond patch?” I ask as he is collecting his wallet and keys.

  He stops, but doesn’t turn around to face me. “My number one job is to keep you safe and I cannot do that unless I get my reputation back. I’m going out to get my street cred back. Don’t wait up for me.”

  Having said his piece he storms out slamming the door. This is not how the night is supposed to end; dammit! Now he’s going off on some revenge thing or something to get his reputation back. I have to stop this; but how? First things first; get a cab. Twenty minutes later one pulls up in front of our room. For safety a couple months ago we both downloaded software that lets us track each other’s phones live in real time. I just hope that he hasn’t got too much of a head start. If he does his usual pattern and makes a methodical plan then I have plenty of time. However, I don’t think he is in the mood for planning. He’ll probably drive around until he finds a Son’s of Ash member and just wing it.

  As we pull out into traffic I call Adam. I leave a message. As we head up 5th Avenue I notice two guys on large street bikes swing in behind us. Right away bells are going off in my head. I give instructions for my driver to circle around the block and back to where we are now. If they’re following me I’ll find out in a hurry. We make the circuit without incident. I guess they were just going the same direction we are. For the next fifteen minutes I concentrate on giving my driver directions from my cell phone. Adam is weaving around the city going nowhere in particular it would seem.