Logan's Reaper

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Logan's Reaper Page 9

by J. D. Lowrance


  A knife appeared in front of my face and I jerked back trying to distance myself from the sharp blade. We both looked to the tent entrance at the first rumble of the motorcycles. “Another time then bitch,” he said through clenched teeth. He cut the remains of my top off and the ties around my wrists and feet. I looked around finding a wooden pole in the middle of the tent. He dragged me over to the pole, jerking my hands above my head as he handcuffed me to a hook high up the pole. He copped one last feel before turning and striding out of the tent leaving me alone. A lone tear escaped down my cheek as the deafening roar of the motorcycles announced the arrival of a shit load of bikes.

  Almost as if by a collective decision all the pipes went silent at once. The eerie silence that followed was frightening, as if even the scary things that go bump in the night were too afraid to be heard and found by the newest villains. A second set of bikes could be heard from the distance approaching the makeshift camp. I pulled on the cuffs countless times to no avail gaining myself cuts and bruises on my wrists. Blood trickled down my arm. My face throbbed to the beat of my heart as I willed myself to calm down. Once the second set of bikes was quiet, I heard voices of welcome, all male, all deep. I prayed to God that this would not end in Campbell and me dying by endless gang rape. I prayed that Colt would ride up and save me and Campbell from this hell.

  Loud music was added to the deep rumble of laughter and male voices. I heard footsteps and then voices.

  “So we found them,” the voice came from whoever was giving orders earlier. “Word has been put out on the street so Baxter should hear about this by the end of the weekend.” Oh. My. God. I knew this was about him. They found us.

  “So what now?” one asked.

  “Each club gets a daughter and you do what you want,” the leader responded. “Each one is in a tent, you go in here first and you go in there. After you get a look and maybe a feel, no tasting, you come back out and you let me know which one you want.”

  “All right then,” another male said. I heard one step of footsteps walk away as the entrance to the tent was slowly pulled back. I dropped my head not wanting to see what came through the tent. I pulled on the handcuffs trying to make myself smaller and less exposed. My breath was coming faster and out of control like I felt.

  “Simply gorgeous,” he said. A pair of black boots appeared before me and a hand grabbed my chin forcing my face up. I closed my eyes. “Open them,” he demanded, “now.” I slowly opened my eyes and stared straight into heaven and hell. The deepest blue, so deep I felt as though I was floating on a cloud in heaven while the other was an angry red reflection of the devil instead. A large scar ripped through his red, glass eye from his hairline to his cheek. I grasped and pulled my chin out of his hand, which only caused him to step closer. He leaned into me as he hands cupped my breast. His head bent down and he nipped my shoulder. His hands continued down my body ending on my hips. One finger skirted across the top of my panties, back and forth. I closed my eyes wishing I could wake up from this nightmare. My harsh, heavy breathing the only sound in the tent as he dipped his hand in my underwear. I bit my lower lip to keep from screaming when his first finger pushed through my folds and entered me. In, out, in, out he matched the speed of my breath. He added a second finger. “Perfect,” he moaned across my shoulder. He started kissing up my neck to my ear. I started to squirm but he pressed his body against mine pinning me against the pole that bit into my back.

  “So tight gorgeous,” he whispered in my ear, “this pussy is ripe for the taking. Hell I don’t even have to see the other girl to know you are the one I want. Look at those perfect, pink lips. Is your pussy that pink?” He groaned as he moved his fingers from inside of me to my clit. Rubbing, circling, teasing. “And so responsive.” He did not let up. “I can’t wait to see both on my dick tonight.” With that, he broke contact and took a step backwards bringing his fingers to his mouth as he sucked my taste off of them. “So sweet,” he rumbled. “Soon gorgeous, those pink lips and that tight pussy are mine.” He turned and walked out.

  I felt the weight of his words as I looked around for any possible escape tugging on my restraints. How are we going to get out of this? What has my dad . . . no, not anymore. What has Baxter done? Who are these bikers? My mind raced as I tried to think of a way out of this. I did not come home. Colton has to know something is wrong.

  We did not know anything that could help find Baxter. Hell, he disappeared on us all the time. Baxter never talked business in front of us but we went to plenty of biker parties as kids to know he did business with them. I racked my brain trying to remember if I had ever seen the Hellhounds MC cut that my potential rapist wore.

  “So?” asked the leader from outside my tent.

  “Perfect,” responded the Hellhound.

  “Absolutely,” the leader said. “So what about you?”

  “Very young,” came another voice.

  “Impossible,” the Hellhound chuckled.

  “Time to switch,” directed the leader. My heart rate pounded in my ears as I fought against the panic of another encounter. I saw the flap pulled back and I quickly looked down fighting the rage, the panic, the insanity. My breathing was rapid and loud.

  “It will be okay pretty girl,” the timbre voice said. “Calm down.”

  Another pair of boots appeared before my eyes, black like the ones before. “Look at me,” he said. When I did not immediately comply, he added “please.” I was so surprised that I looked right up. I was met with the second pair of grayest eyes I had ever seen. Impossible. I looked right to his cut and saw President and Founder written on the front.

  “Who . . . are . . . you?” I stammered. A single tear escaped my eye. Please God!

  “I am Wesson, my MC’s President and a founding brother,” he answered. Campbell screamed at that moment sending a chill down my spine.

  “What . . . MC?” I prayed my prayers were answered.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Colton

  I stepped off my bike after riding all day to fucking no man’s land to find the Hellhounds and a few of the shadier members of the Iron Knights already setting up their tents, drinking and smoking. No bitches roamed the makeshift camp, so what the fuck was going on. And to top all that shit off I could not reach Logan when we rolled out so I had to leave her a fucking message on her phone. Damn it. I was still pissed about leaving her to get home from work by herself. Plus, I never heard from her before I left this morning. My phone showed no missed calls or texts. I am in a fucking mood. All the brothers must have seen it on my face because no one approached me.

  Now Pop went off with the other two presidents, Crazy Z from the Hellhounds and Ryder from the Iron Knights. Whistler went to follow but my father shook him off. What the hell? The music was already blaring and the beer flowing. Tank brought me a cup but seemed distracted and stepped off to make a call. Definitely Cam. I wandered around the camp shooting the shit with a few Hellhounds and Iron Knights about potential upcoming matchups for the fight night in a month.

  I made it back to camp and settled by the fire after getting another beer. “Has Tank met someone?” Whistler asked joining me at the fire. He knew Tank would never tell him. When I did not answer, he said, “It’s obvious. The fucker is pining after someone, the way he is with that damn phone.”

  My silence seemed to invite Whistler to continue “You too from what I hear are banging some spank-worthy gash that lives next door. Must be some of the tastiest shit you ever had to give up the free pussy at the clubhouse. I also heard you and Tank have been pretty preoccupied in the last month.”

  “What do you want Whistler?” I turned to look at the aging enforcer. This trip has taken a toll on both him and Pop. “I ran this club in Pop’s absence. Hell I even did a run this week, so what the hell is your problem?”

  “The next gen leadership of this club to not turn stupid over some fucking pussy,” he explained. I sighed and turned away from him knowing he was just trying to star
t shit.

  I reached for my phone begging it to buzz but it remained silent. I called Logan again and it went straight to voicemail. Was she babysitting for Tru again? I needed to go ask him. My damn text message had not even been read yet. What the fuck? I bet she let her battery die again. She did the same shit last week and it pissed me off. Where the fuck was Tru?

  As I stomped off to go and find him I saw Pop storming towards me. “Come with me now.” I stood and followed him to our bikes with Whistler on our heels.

  “Did they find him?” I asked not seeing Pop this pissed in a long time.

  “Not quite,” my pop sighed shaking his head. “They found his daughters.”

  “We’re gonna use women as bait. I mean that is shitty but whatever gets the fucker here, right?” I looked back and forth from Pop to Whistler. The Hellhounds had a reputation with how they treated woman, especially those unlucky enough to get taken or claimed by them.

  “Not quite,” Pop repeated. “Ryder called me right before we left. When the Iron Knights couldn’t find Baxter but located his two daughters, the Hellhounds had already decided they wanted them brought in. It wasn’t until I got here that I learned that Crazy Z wanted each of us to take one of his daughters to help incent Baxter to come out of hiding to save them. We all agreed we won’t kill ‘em,” he continued, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t play with ‘em.” He threw his hands up in surrender while I mumbled “Jesus Christ,” rubbing my hands back and forth over my buzz. “Crazy Z’s words not mine.”

  “And you agreed to this?” I asked. “We don’t treat women like this.”

  “I know son.” He said putting his hand on my shoulder. “I know.” He squeezed.

  “What else, Pop? I can tell you aren’t telling me everything.”

  “The daughters . . . the girls . . . they are . . . um . . . I don’t know how to say this.”

  “Pop, who the fuck are they?” I yelled as his other hand gripped my other shoulder holding me in place.

  “I’m sorry, son,” he said, “It’s Logan and Campbell Reed.”

  It took a minute for what Pop just said to sink in. Reed, I did not know any Reeds and the only Logan and Campbell I knew are Joneses. Fuck no. No way.

  “Where is she?” I demanded. “Is she okay? We have to get her?”

  “Get who?” Tank asked. I was so in my head I did not even hear him approach.

  “Fuck!” I roared. “This can’t be happening.”

  “What man? What the fuck is wrong?” Tank was now right next to me.

  My pop still had not released me probably afraid I would rip the camp apart looking for her. “The Iron Knights took Baxter’s daughters because he stole money from both the Hellhounds and us. But it turns out that one of those girls is Colton’s new chick, Logan Reed.”

  “Reed?” Tank looked to me.

  “Logan and Campbell Jones,” I pushed Pop away and grabbed Tank but not in time as he spun away from me.

  “No,” he bellowed as I tackled him to the ground.

  “Tank stop,” I said. “We can’t let the Hellhounds know how important they are to us. They will use it against us.” Tank immediately stopped struggling against me and dropped his head to the ground. “You cool?” I asked. “Yeah” he growled between clenched teeth.

  “Tell us everything,” I said as I stood up helping to pull Tank up when he rolled over.

  Pop told us about how Ryder put the girls in separate tents, stripped them down to their bra and panties and let each of the presidents have a few minutes with them. He said that he saw Campbell first and that she was silent the entire time glaring at him with eyes so angry that the gold sparks in them overrode the brown irises.

  “I asked her name but she just ignored me shrinking into herself when I took a step closer,” Pop explained. Tank started pacing back and forth. I did not know if it was from Tank’s reaction or if that was the end of it but Pop moved onto Logan.

  “When I walked in she was handcuffed to the pole, like the other daughter. She was trembling and lookin’ down. I asked her to look at me and then said please when she did not move. That got her attention and she looked right at me. Her eyes grew larger, almost like she recognized me. She then asked my name. I said Wesson and then she asked what club. When I said Soul Reapers she started shaking uncontrollably with tears sliding down her cheeks. At that exact time we heard her sister scream.” I could not take anymore and took off towards the camp. Tank tackled me from behind repeating the same words I used on him. “We can’t! The Hellhounds will know how important they are to us. They will use it against us.”

  “I need to get her out of this Tank.” I pleaded with my best friend. “I know exactly what you mean brother,” he replied.

  My pop and Whistler were arguing in quiet but harsh voices when we rejoined them. “How did you know it was Logan?” I asked.

  “She looked right at me and told me to take her sister. She said ‘Colton will keep Cam safe.’ I then asked her who she was and she told me her name was Logan and that they lived next door to you. I put two and two together and figured out she was the new neighbor you were putting on the back of your bike like an old lady, bringing around the club, and frequenting Kilroy’s for.”

  “That’s her,” I confirmed.

  “And is the other yours?” Whistler looked through Tank.

  “Without a doubt,” Tank returned.

  “Hellhounds only talk in cash so we have to pick one and buy the other one,” Pop explained.

  “Pick one?” questioned Tank.

  “Yeah, two daughters, two clubs. We each pick one and do what we want with them as long as we don’t kill ‘em. That was the agreement.”

  “Fuck me.” Tank yelled.

  “How did you delay the picking?” Whistler asked.

  “I told them this was a present for Colton being elevated to Vice President and that I would let him pick.”

  “Do I get to see them?” I would do anything right now to see Logan.

  “No,” Pop replied. “I barely got Crazy Z to agree to wait for you. He was very eager for the brunette.”

  Fuck no.

  “Who are you picking?” Tank looked me square in the eye.

  “Logan would never forgive me if I picked her and left Campbell to those fucking perverts, but I can’t let Logan go with them either.” My mind was racing.

  “Buy her,” Whistler said. “Buy her outright and save yourself from starting a war over a fucking pussy.”

  I stepped right into his space, “You better shut the fuck up right now Whistler. You don’t talk about anyone’s old lady like that.”

  “We all know she ain’t your old lady and you can’t claim her now as one or Crazy Z will go ape shit on her ass.” Whistler smirked at me.

  “You son-of-a-bitch,” I hauled off and slugged him to wipe that fucking smirk off his face. Tank jumped right in and pulled me back as Whistler recovered hunched over.

  “You fucking piece of shit,” he shouted, “hitting a brother over fuckin’ pussy.”

  “That’s enough Whistler,” Pop’s voice commanded our attention. “You listen and you listen good. You do not talk to your Vice President that way. You are an enforcer, not the second in command you will treat him that way, regardless of what you think. His place within this club demands it.”

  After a brief pause Pop turned to us and said, “We stick together on this. We follow Colton’s lead and get both women out of here tonight. If it doesn’t work out we regroup. Now let’s go.” He led the way through the camp with the three of us following him.

  Crazy Z and two of his men were waiting for us with Ryder at the back of the camp. “About fucking time,” Crazy Z said. “Have you decided boy which pussy you tagging so we can get on with this? My dick is hard from feeling how wet they both are for me.” Tank muttered “mother fucker” under his breath and I nodded my head in agreement.

  “Z, that’s the thing. I heard it was so sweet that I want both,” I said not wasting
any more time.

  “Excuse me?” This got Crazy Z’s full attention.

  “Yep, that’s right. I am picking the blonde and I want to buy the brunette off of you. What price do you want for her?”

  “You can’t afford her.” Z crossed his arms over his chest.

  “How much?”

  “The debt paid in full?”

  “Again, how much?”

  “100 K.”

  “No pussy is fucking worth that much,” Pop muttered in my ear.

  “In cash tonight or no deal,” Z continued and from the smirk on his face he knew that was impossible.

  “I can’t get that here tonight,” I countered.

  “Oh well no deal. Shooter grab the brunette in the tent behind me.” One of the guys turned taking a set of keys from Ryder and walked into the tent. “And collar her,” said Crazy Z as he looked right at me.

  “Give me until the morning and you will have your cash,” I said knowing I would ride all night to get this done.

  “Nah. That pussy is too tight to let it sit all night.” Crazy Z licked his lips in an exaggerated fashion. “Plus this way I get her and the retribution from Baxter when Ryder and his brothers flush him out.” Just then Shooter walked out with Logan who looked right me. I had to stop myself from running to her and scooping her up into my arms. My jaw clenched so hard it was close to cracking.

  Her eyes were as wide and wet as the bluest ocean, begging me without saying a word. One of her tear-stained cheeks was starting to bruise from where someone hit her once, maybe twice. Her lip was cut with dried blood crusted over it. My heart literally stopped beating as she mouthed thank you to me. She wore nothing but a black bra and matching lacy panties with a dog collar around her throat and leash that he handed to Crazy Z. “There is my bitch now,” he exclaimed yanking Logan to his side. She let out a gasp and she fell into him. He snaked his arm around her as she continued to look right at me. I took a step forward when I felt my pop put a hand on my shoulder.

 

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