“Have you heard anything?” he asked, thumbing through the bookshelves in the corner. “Are they still holed up?”
“How would I know?”
“How would—” he turned, seeing her now. “Oh. It’s just you.”
“Nice to see you too.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m glad to see you, Robin. I’m just...worried, is all. And I don’t like being holed up here. This the worst kind of being for me, I have to tell you. If I could be anywhere else, doing anything else...doing something...” He shook his head. “Instead we have to wait for them to act, because that’s how this works. That fucking idiot—” he paused. “Shut the door.”
Robin did.
“That idiot. Your brother. I can call him that, can’t I?”
“I wish you wouldn’t call him my brother. It makes me a little sick to think about.”
“You’ve got a tongue on you, sure enough.” Case smiled, but just as soon as it arrived, it fell away. “I could have...fixed it. I know I could have. I wanted to, right away. Had thoughts of how. But then Troy went and did what he did...goddamn.” He shook his head. “What’s the point of having a bicameral leadership if no one talks to one another?”
“Unity, I think.”
That's what Case had talked about when he introduced the idea, anyway.
“Does this look like unity to you? All my men holed up. All Troy’s men gallivanting around like they’re accomplish something. And the Cauldron attacking tonight, somewhere. I know they will.” His voice became quiet. “It’s what I’d do, anyway.”
Robin had little doubt of that.
“Is there any chance of me getting out of here anytime soon?”
Thoughts of Brall surged upward. Holding her down. Choking her while driving his cock into her tiny hot pussy. Singing his praises while she stroked his cock all day long...
“Not really.”
“I didn’t do anything, Case.”
He laughed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“If you’re mad at me. I didn’t do anything.”
“Sign of a guilty conscience.” He said, smiling.
“What is?”
“Insisting you’re innocent when no one is accusing you of nothing. What’d you do, girl?”
“Nothing.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “Guilty again.”
“How is someone not guilty, in your eyes?”
“I guess first they gotta not say anything.” He laughed. “And then not do anything. And then die, never having said or doing nothing.”
“It can’t be that everyone’s guilty.”
“You might as well say that it can’t be that the land’s not hot. But it’s hot. All day and up ‘til the night. It’s hot and we live in it. You’re guilty and you live with it. There’s no changing that.”
“So are you, then.”
“Yes ma’am, I am. And I know it.”
The thought arrived suddenly that Case really was attractive.
She could just fuck him, she realized. He wouldn’t mind, most like. Case was a real man. He fucked whoever he wanted, whoever he came across. Abigail didn’t seem to mind that he fucked so many other women—so why not Robin? She could just fuck him to get out of there.
That’s something Abigail would do, but that didn’t make it a bad idea. Abigail couldn’t be caged.
He was strong, like Brall. In command, like Brall. And there was something deliciously savage about his countenance, his actions, even with all the thought he put into his work.
“Why do you want out so much? What’s out there for you? Your job? You don’t gotta worry about those numbers, girl. They'll be waiting for you.”
“It’s not that.”
“Your girl? Abigail? I’m worried about her too. Don’t tell Troy that, though. He’ll get high and mighty. And I’m pissed with Abigail. But I don’t want her hurt. You got my word on that.”
“It’s...that’s good. Thank you. But it’s not that either.”
He adjusted his weight slightly, sitting down on his desk and examining a map on his wall. “What is it, then? You got a man or something?”
Robin froze up, searching for an excuse. She hadn’t expected to be asked so directly. She hadn’t planned on making anything up. This is why Abigail was so good at misdirection—always contingency plans.
Case turned around slow. “You got a man?”
“I...” she shook her head. “No. It’s something else.”
He nodded. “You got a man. Listen, that’s fine, all right? I’m not gonna begrudge you nothing. It don’t surprise me none. In fact, I’m surprised nobody spoke up for you before. What happened? It was almost all settled, then you and I got declared, and he got cold feet? I don’t blame him.”
Neither would Robin, had the man Case referred to existed. Anybody in the Family put their life on the line by trying to take something from the leadership.
“What’s his name?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“So you do have a man.”
Her mouth twisted. “I’d rather not say.”
“Fair enough. You don’t gotta tell me. You don’t have to do nothing, really. But it should stop. And soon. It’ll have to stop by our mating ceremony. Better sooner, don’t you think?”
Tell him what he wants to hear. Tell him anything to shut him up. Let him keep believing this.
“...yes.” She nodded. “No, yes. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Ain’t nothing. A girl’s gotta have somebody. It was right unnatural, pretty as you are, staying unattached. I’m sorry I have to ruin somebody’s day for it. But that’s how it’s got to be.”
He took his hands in hers. The palms giant, meaty. Almost as big as Brall’s...almost. Robin knew Brall would be driven wild by this sort of close, intimate touching. He would fight Case to the death for the dishonor of it.
“You listen to me, now. We’re important to this family. The both of us. We’re going to give it peace. You know what’s more valuable than peace?”
Love.
But she said what he wanted to hear. “Nothing.”
“That’s right. I don’t aim to hurt you none, got me? I’m sorry we’re having to start like this. But we’ll smooth it out, all right? You and me. I’ll give you one hell of a ride in the sack, too.”
Robin, the beautiful babe who just the day before had been wildly rutting with the rival gang leader basically in public, somehow managed to blush.
“You like that, huh?” He stroked her cheek. “God, you are pretty. How about it?”
He dragged her hands down his body. Robin didn't fight him. He was so strong, so confident. Every muscle so smooth and hard. Fuck, but he was turning her on. Soon, her hands rested on his pulsing bulge beneath his pants.
“How's that? You've always been a good girl, Robin. You want to be mine? I'll fuck you better than your other man, that's for sure. Better than any man in the Family.”
Slowly, he took out his cock. Already half-hard and nearly as thick around as her wrist. Drool filled her mouth. Little droplets of precum dotted the head. It wasn't Brall's cock, but it was a cock of a well-hung stud, and Robin certainly had the taste for that now. It was beautiful, so thick and long. She wanted to lick the head clean of all of its precum. It would be so easy. She could have it done in just a few moments.
“Why don’t you give it a try now? I could show you how.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted that. Her body did—that was for sure. Just the offer made her salivate a little more. Her pussy moistening. Her heart belonged to Brall, and she knew that to be completely true. She only ever wanted to be his, in mind, body, and soul. But the both of them—Case and Brall—were so similarly strong and powerful, so totally male, that it was hard to push her urges down. Even if she thought she didn’t want it, her mind also quickly created thoughts of what it would be like to suck on Case’s cock. To wrap her lips slowly over the head, luxuriating in his dense man taste. To
feel her own moans reverberate off his engorged skin.
To be throatfucked like Brall had done to her just the day before.
Putting me on my knees. My mouth slipping over his member, eyes wide. Tears forming not from fear or even joy but from the soft, urgent pleasurable pain of taking so much inside of me at once. Like the back of my throat is connected to my cunt, and every hot thrust jamming there is a hot hand running against my clit. Oh god oh god.
It would be hot.
“I...no.”
She backed away. Soon, her ass was against the door knob. Case smiled, and, sighing, put his cock back in his pants.
“You’ll have to, sooner or later. It’s a good wife’s duty.”
“I know. It’s just...I’d like to wait. For now.”
“All right, girl. But I don’t take kindly to asking twice and getting turned down again. You hear me? Be ready.”
Chapter 16:
Later that evening, Case stepped outside into the open air. He took a breath of the hot air, wishing for some reprieve from the heat out in the open air. Sometimes at night the air would cool, but not this night.
God, but Robin had gotten him horny. She really was a beautiful woman. She would make a lovely wife. If only he could have brought Abigail around on the idea. If only he had been able to explain...
A guard, Fenton, approached from behind.
“Sir, you really ought to stay in. At least until the rest of the riders get back. It’s—”
He waved the man off. If someone was going to kill him, then they would kill him.
Case couldn’t bear to be holed up for very long. Even in a tight place with a beauty like Robin—who’s gorgeous features only became more gorgeous as he closed his proximity to her—his cooped up feelings intensified as the hours went on. He felt pressed upon, weighed down by the concrete and the earth. It was a disagreeable condition for him.
Trying to sober himself, he thought back to an interaction earlier in the day with Sandra.
You cannot forget your father's death. I won't let you.
He shook his head. Sandra really was focused on it. It was a good mystery, but it was a mystery, and Case only wanted to deal in absolutes.
Sandra appeared to have some plan, some notions, but he couldn't tell what they were yet. Only that she was diving headlong into trouble, and that he wouldn't be able to stop her. He couldn't stop her doing anything.
Something shifted in the air. He could feel it before anything actually happened. Some momentous turning in the atmosphere.
And then it happened—an enormous flame erupted from the south side of the compound, hitting the wall. An explosion.
The sound was deafening, and the heat of the night sucked away briefly as all the air outside burned up and inward to the sudden tower of fire. And then a hot, terrible wind as the flames pushed the air back out. Immediately Case's skin began to sweat.
The garage, he thought, a dead feeling emptying his chest. How many were left inside?
Several riders rushed outside, hoping to look at what happened. But Case knew explosions. He knew terror.
When he was young and Temple had not yet been fully tamed, a particularly virulent set of gangsters—not all that different from the Cauldron, really—who had decided that they would run a guerrilla war against old Titus.
The war had lasted for the better part of three years, finally ending in a shoot-out in the eponymous Temple in the middle of town. Titus had the gangster in charge crucified, not cutting his body down for more than six months. The desert winds and irradiated heat stripped his body to the bone and by the time they buried him the only thing that was whole was his pelvic bone.
But before they had been snuffed out, the guerrillas loved to use explosions. And explosions never came in ones—always twos. One to get people to look, and the second one to shred them with debris when they were standing up like idiot prairie dogs barking at each about the latest disturbance.
Case ran and shoved his men back inside—his immense strength able to take care of any reluctance his men showed.
Trajan was beneath him. An old hand, and loyal. “What gives, boss?”
“Shut up and stay down,” Case growled.
A few seconds later, another explosion boomed through the town. This one sounded bigger than the first.
“What was that?” asked Trajan.
It came from the same south side of the compound.
“Grain tower, I think.” Case spat. “And the garage, the first one. Son of a bitch wants to starve us out. What was the guard detail there?”
Trajan knew. “Five riders, boss.”
“Goddammit.”
Five men dead or maimed, that was for sure. Even from just hearing the explosion inside the bunker, he knew it was bad.
Outside the whole town was lit up. It looked like daylight; it was that bright. Shadows danced under buildings from the flickering flames. A man walked down the street, stumbling and shuffling, his entire back smoking. Case could see easily through the dark alleys between all the shanty-built buildings, the stacks of sheet metal and plywood that had been arranged like children’s blocks.
He had to go help. He gathered two men and told them to gather two more, and so on, until everybody was helping. There couldn’t be a panic. Not in Temple.
Just as he was about to go through the gates proper, Troy put his hands on his shoulders and stopped him.
“What are you doing?” Case asked him.
“What are you doing?”
“We’ve got to help these people, Troy. It’s our duty.”
He shook his his head. “There ain’t no duty but survival, Case. Didn’t your Daddy teach you that?”
“It’s what he taught me that’s making me help. What did he teach you? How to stir up a war?”
Troy appeared willing to let that one slide.
“The more buildings that burn down, the better we’ll be able to fight him. The only buildings we control directly are in the compound. Anything outside of it is expendable. We've got to put out our own fires first.”
“These people depend on us for safety, Troy.”
“They should depend on themselves. We do.”
“We depend on them to pay us. Where do you think we’ll be without their funding?”
“I'd like to see them try to survive for long without paying us. Why are you insisting that everything be fair? Ain't nothing's fair. We already got all the power. All you’re asking for in a negotiation in terms. A fluctuation in prices from time to time. I'm asking for the same thing in different words.”
“You’re asking for people to get hurt.”
“People get hurt all the time. They die.”
“Not today.”
He left Troy to deal with the fires in the Compound. He knew he wouldn't change the man's mind. Let him deal with the Compound, then. Someone had to.
Case helped all he could. Running through the streets. He told everyone to gather on the North side of town with whatever weapons they could carry. Any able-bodied men needed to get on the water brigade and start chugging pails into the flames.
There was a brigade out there already started, standing in front of the flames where they threatened to spread out from the Compound walls and into the rest of Temple.
Brall was there. Him and his men, doing their part from all appearances—trying to control the flames.
A sick pit rose in Case's stomach.
The son of a bitch. Hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t he killed enough of his men?
Rage boiling, Case walked up to him and punched him in the mouth. Brall stumbled a bit, and then smiled. His lip was bleeding. He waved his men off and gestured for them to keep working on the blaze.
“I haven’t had someone hit me like that in some time,” he said. Then his gaze became steely and deadly. “Don’t do it again.”
“You started this fire.”
“I did not. But I can see your point.”
“What do you mean, you di
dn’t? I don’t care if it wasn’t you personally. It was you, what you did to my—to Abigail. That started this. You, you, your hand, started this fire.”
“I don't have to explain anything of myself to you. Not a thing. I didn't start this fire. And now I’m helping to extinguish it. Do you want me to leave?”
Case's fists tightened. The one still stung from bouncing off Brall's face.
“I want to punch you.”
“You can fight me, or we can get these folks out of there. What do you think?”
He was right, damn his bones. Right to the core.
“I think we can fight later.”
“Good.”
They worked together then, the rest of the night. Slopping water from one place to the next. When they finished, the embers burning down low, Case tried to find Brall again—now he would fight him.
But Brall was gone into the night, and his men with him.
Chapter 17:
Abigail snuck up behind the guard posted at the end of the long underground hall. She could seduce him, but that took a long time, and she was in a hurry.
She had been gone for too long from Case’s grasp.
There was a pipe in her hands. She swung it hard over his head, and he collapsed with a crash. It was possible she had hit too hard—that he wasn't unconscious, but dead.
She didn’t care. Nothing mattered. Nothing but being with Case.
It was this simple truth that had allowed her to do all that she had in the last forty-eight hours. Robin and her friendship didn’t matter. Family didn’t matter. Starting a war didn’t matter. Having eight studs fuck her brutally giving her orgasm after brilliantly perfect orgasm didn’t matter.
The only thing that mattered was that at the end of the day, she was wrapped around Case’s body, giving him the love he so clearly deserved. And in doing so, finally, he would give her the love she so clearly deserved.
Chaos was the best way to accomplish this, that was all. The structure of Temple, of the Family, had been in her way. And now, soon, it wouldn’t be. With no stupid expectations from society hanging around, she could fuck her brother just like she was meant to.
Gang Up: A Bikerland Novel Page 9