King of Kings

by Shreffler, Betty

  A fit woman in her fifties with long, probably dyed blond hair struts out onto the stage first in her tiny black bikini, riding boots, and a number one contestant sticker. Wesley perks up in his chair and whistles at her. It’s loud enough to grab her attention. She glances at him, blows a kiss, then struts back off the stage, waving her farewell as the crowd cheers. Wesley’s face is red and struck with shock.

  “Got a crush, old man?” Max jokes.

  “Hell yeah, did you see her?”

  Liz leans against his chair and puts an arm around him.

  “I’ll sneak back with the girls and see if she’s single.”

  “Would ya, doll?”

  “Of course.”

  Before she leaves, she kisses Jake, then takes the path along the stage to where the other girls went to prepare for the contest.

  As the beer gets low, the beautiful women keep coming, and the crowd gets louder. Number eleven is a hot, busty blonde, and when she enters the stage, she gets a boost from the crowd by taking her bikini top off and spinning it around in the air. Drunk men go wild and shout for her to take her bottoms off. With a glance at the announcer, he shakes his head no, and the men at the front of the stage boo him.

  The flash-the-crowd trend continues for another four women, and the group of bikers to the left of us get more boisterous and give the gesture of eating pussy to the current girl on stage. When the next girl comes out and doesn’t flash the crowd, the men boo her. As she leaves the stage, she wipes at her eyes. Next up is Synne, and my neck and shoulder muscles tighten so hard, I can’t swallow. The bikers next to us start shouting, “Show us your tits!”

  Synne is unfazed. She turns her ass toward us, bends over, whips her hair into the air as she stands straight. Looking at me over her shoulder, she winks, then struts off the stage like she owns it. A smile curls my lip. Of course, she handled their shouting like the badass she is and looked sexy as fuck doing it. Audrey enters the stage after Synne, and the men shout the same phrase. Trevor moves toward them in my periphery, and I put my hand on his chest and shake my head no.

  “Audrey wouldn’t want you to fight.”

  Audrey, being the snarky chick she is, pretends to take her bottoms off, then pulls a middle finger out instead. The bikers next to us begin to boo her but are drowned out by our whistling and cheering. With a kiss blown to Trevor, she struts off the stage, a grin curling her lips. Maci is next, and the one I’m the most worried about. As soon as she enters, the group of idiots next to us shout, “Take your top off!”

  I know Maci wants to win, so she’ll go that extra step. Turning her ass toward the crowd, she shakes it as she unties the strings around her neck.

  “Yeah, baby. Show us what you got!”

  William stiffens, his gaze flipping between Maci on stage and the group next to us, his face as red as a blister.

  With Maci’s top down, she turns toward the crowd, hooks her thumbs in a string on her bikini, and does an erotic dance for the crowd.

  “Show us the rest!”

  Her gaze flicks in our direction and I make eye contact. With a scowl, I shake my head no.

  In the group next to us, a beefy, black-haired dude with a beer belly catches me telling her no and decides he doesn’t like it.

  “Fuck off, man. If she wants to show us, she can.”

  William quick steps up to the man and gets in his face. “Watch what you say, fucker. That’s my woman up there.”

  The man doesn’t back down, the beer in his hand sloshing as he gets in William’s face.

  “Watch what you say, fucker, or I’ll lay you flat on your ass.”

  My crew is at my back as we step up to protect William. The patches on the man’s vest read; Oakland for his chapter, Tank for his road name, and a standard Member patch.

  “Unless you want a blood bath, Tank I suggest you back the fuck down.”

  Glancing at my vest, he reads the President patch and my name.

  “Your buddy was in my face first, Pres. I can’t help if his girl wanted to show off her tits and ass for us.”

  William clenches his fists, ready to throw a punch, so I move between them.

  “My ol’ lady was one of the women you shouted show us your tits at. You’re lucky I don’t dig your face into the ground with my boot.” Stepping closer, I tower over him. “You have one last chance to respect the patch, or I’ll make an example out of yours.”

  Behind him, his buddies are listening in and ready for a fight, eager desperation written all over their faces. As Tank’s eyes narrow to slits and he contemplates a fight, the barking orders of law enforcement shout at us to break it up.

  A black, metal baton gets shoved between us, followed by the same orders being repeated more loudly and aggressively. Gesturing to my crew, I motion for them to back up. Tank and his buddies remain there, ignoring the officers.

  “Pussy,” he shouts at me, spitting at my feet.

  “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

  “Let it go,” an officer shouts.

  My eyes flick to his hand on his taser. Now’s not the time or place to finish this.

  I point to Tank. “I’ll be seeing you again, bitch.”

  My crew and I walk off as the officers bark more orders at Tank and his brothers. The sound of shouting and a taser going off whips our attention back to the drunk bikers. Tank is on the ground, two officers working to handcuff him.

  With a smirk, I cross my arms and watch the dumb fucks get arrested, one by one.

  “This is almost better than beating the shit out of him,” William says.

  “Oh, we’ll get our chance,” I assure him. “Jake, call our bail bondsman friend. Find out when that piece of shit is going to get released.”

  “Will do, Pres.” Jake lowers the brim of his ball cap, smiling like a wily cat.

  The last two contestants have come and gone, and while the results are being tallied up, the women are lined up in a row on stage to be ogled. Maci looks nervous, and I don’t know if it’s about winning the contest or the shitshow going on below the stage. Tank and his brothers are escorted away in cuffs, and the crowd returns their attention to the beautiful women.

  William drops into a chair with a thud, his face red, jaw tight, his gaze fixed on Maci. I think she seriously crossed the line with him this time. The announcer calls the third-place winner, and sure as shit, it’s my Synne. She laughs as she steps forward. Finding me in the crowd, she shrugs a shoulder and smirks.

  “Yeah, baby!” I whistle loud, and my crew joins me in cheering her on.

  Synne puts two fingers to her lips, kisses them, then points right at me and winks. This woman… she rocks my fucking world.

  The second-place is none other than the busty blonde who started the tit-flashing trend. She struts forward and playfully pretends to untie her top as she winks at the crowd. I’m thankful that hot little number isn’t my girl; I’d look like William, steaming in the corner.

  The first-place winner is announced, and Maci’s face lights up when they call her name. She comes forward, grinning and waving at the crowd like an experienced pageant queen. William doesn’t cheer or whistle, just tosses back the rest of his beer and chucks it on the ground with a grunt.

  Flower bouquets, a patch, and a small cardboard check are handed to each of the winners. The rest of the women are applauded as they exit the stage. A few minutes later, Liz, Audrey, and the first contestant rejoin our group. Liz introduces Deborah to Wesley, and the two stay to the side and chat. Wesley’s face is a shade of red I haven’t seen in years. It’s good to see the ol’ man get some action.

  Liz settles under Jake’s arm while Audrey receives congratulatory kisses and ass squeezes from Trevor. When the contestants are finished getting their photos taken, they head off stage, and we wait for Synne and Maci to join us.

  Synne waves the check in her hand with a humored smile as she nears our group.

  “Can you believe it?”

  “With that ass,
I can.”

  Her cheeks swell into little crimson puffs as she slides into my arms and looks up at me as if she adores me. That look right there cements the truth for me—I’m falling in love with her, and I believe she feels the same. Bringing her in tight to my chest, I kiss her head.

  “You did good, baby, and you respected me up there.”

  Tilting her head back, she remains against my chest and kisses me. “Thank you.”

  Glancing over her shoulder, she checks on Maci, who’s standing by William’s chair, staring at him expectantly. Holding a beer to his lips, he tilts it in the air.

  “What?” he snaps.

  “You’re not saying anything.”

  William rolls his eyes. “We’re gonna talk, but not here, not now.” The last couple of words are clipped. The man is fuming and knows he needs to cool down.

  “Maci,” I call. “Give the man some room.”

  With tears in her eyes, her attention whips to me. She starts to say something, then thinks better of it. Wiping at a fallen tear, she walks off, her patch and check dangling from her hand. Erika joins her, putting an arm around her.

  “Let’s go.” I motion toward the girls. “I’m not gonna have our group separated.”

  “Let her go,” William grumbles, his speech slurred.

  “Get off your fucking ass, right now,” Dom orders, motioning his hand for William to stand. “You can be pissed off, but you still have an obligation to look out for her.”

  “Fucking Christ,” William spits. “This day’s been nothing but shit.”

  Getting up from the chair, he moves slowly, putting it inside the bag. The alcohol is hitting him hard. Obviously, William’s feelings for Maci are deeper than he shows. He’s really pissed about the stunt she pulled on stage, and he’s burying those feelings in alcohol.

  William and Dom trail behind the girls while the rest of us gather the chairs and cooler.

  “Let’s get some food before the concert starts,” I tell the crew.

  * * *

  Taking the last swig of my beer, I toss it aside as Synne sways her hips, pushing her ass into my dick. Kissing her neck, I pull her tighter against me as the band belts out their melody.

  “You looked sexy on that stage. That move had me wondering what else you can do.”

  “I have a few more moves up my sleeve I can perform, just for you.”

  Synne raises her arms and intertwines her fingers around my neck, and I grip her hip, tugging her to me as I push into her ass cheeks.

  “I want to see you perform them in this slinky bikini.”

  Tugging at a string, I loosen the straps around her neck. She reaches into the back of her tank top and unties the back strings. Pulling the bikini top out from under her tank, she hands it to me.

  “Or I can perform them naked.”

  Pocketing her bikini top, I slip a hand under her tank and caress her breast.

  “I think it’s time I take you to bed.”

  “As long as you keep to your earlier promise.”

  She turns in my arms and looks up at me, her grin inviting and lascivious.

  “I’ll more than deliver on that promise.”

  Sliding my hand up her thigh, I slip my finger into her shorts and rub over the minuscule fabric covering her pussy.

  “I want you now.” Her breath is a whisper of needy arousal.

  Pulling my hand out, I palm her ass with both hands and lift her. She puts her legs around my waist, and I pull her tight against my hard dick and rock her over it until she’s moaning as we kiss.

  “Fuck, baby, I need to tell the crew we’re heading back to camp. I’m about to fuck you here if I don’t.”

  “I should’ve worn a skirt,” she groans.

  “You should’ve.”

  Letting her legs down, I adjust my hard-on.

  “We’re heading back to camp.” Flicking a pointed finger between me and Synne, then toward camp, I gather the attention of most of my crew.

  In the dimly lit mowed field, with the band blasting music into the sea of drunken people, every Kings member has a girl dancing or flirting with them, so I know they don’t mind heading back either. The word passes between them, and when it gets to Wesley, he motions his head toward camp and asks Deborah to join him. I’m pleased to see her say yes. Max and Axel have their arms slung over the shoulders of the women they’re with, so it’s clear they’re joining us as well.

  Through the thick crowd, we move to the outside and try not to disrupt anyone having a good time. Across the main drag of bike week, the tall streetlamps light our way to the campsites. As we near the main trail to our camp, there’s a law enforcement UTV with its red, white, and blue lights flickering. A small crowd of people blocks our view from the scene. Assuming a fight went south, I slow down and join the crowd to see what happened. One of the officers, a bald, middle-aged man, puts his hands up, ushering the crowd back.

  About fifteen feet away, there’s a woman’s body lying in the vegetation. Crimson hair catches my attention, and I move sideways, trying to get a better look as my heart rate kicks up a notch. To the right of me, I hear Jake telling the girls to stay back, and that’s when everything goes silent around me. My ears ring, and my hands shake as I move closer. Gaze fixed on Angela’s battered body and torn clothing, nausea fills my stomach, and I cover my hand over my mouth.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “Sir, you need to step back. This is a crime scene.”

  Max comes out of nowhere and addresses the officer.

  “We know who that woman is. That’s Angela Kersee. She runs with the Wild Royals.”

  The bald-headed officer pulls a notepad and pen out of his chest pocket.

  “I’ll need you two to stay here and tell me everything you know about this woman.”

  Leaning forward, I put my palms on my knees and focus on my breathing as the nausea continues in waves.

  “I can’t do this.” One knee gives out, and the hands I feel wrap around me are my sister’s. Turning my face into her hair, I hug her tight as moisture fills my eyes, my words whispered against her ear. “I did this. She’s dead because of me.”

  Pulling back to look at me, confusion fills her eyes.

  “You’re wrong.” She says it so adamantly, I almost believe her.

  “Take Synne and everyone back to camp. Don’t say anything to anyone.”

  With an understanding nod, she disappears behind me. Max places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze as I stand.

  “I’m here, brother.”

  “Thank you,” I mutter.

  My gaze keeps landing on the bits of cream flesh catching the light from the streetlamp. The rest of her skin is dirty, bruised, or cut. Looking away from her body, I breathe in deeply, then slowly let it out. My mind is adrift, but I’m still aware of the dull, painful tearing in my heart. Angela didn’t deserve to die like this, and the fear that’s coursing through me is that I caused this to happen.

  The officer who asked us to remain for questioning is being patient, holding off questions while a second officer places yellow tape from the UTV to a tree, keeping the crowd out. Another UTV pulls up, the medical emergency skid unit that responds before the actual ambulance. The dark-haired officer who put up the yellow caution tape addresses them, and the passenger of the skid unit gets into the back and gathers a white sheet and a large medical kit. The two paramedics approach her body, and a short time later, they lay the sheet over her.

  Watching the pristine, clean sheet cover her brings back flashes of Jenna’s bloody, dead body being covered. I can’t hold back the nausea anymore, and the last few beers I drank spew out. Max and the officer give me space to be sick.

  The officer who set up the tape walks around and asks the crowd if anyone saw anything. The bystanders don’t have any information to help, and most of them leave the scene after telling the officer they didn’t see anything and just wanted to know what happened. Only a small group remains, the ones who found he
r and called 911. The dark-haired officer pulls out a notepad and begins asking them questions.

  “Sir, are you well enough to answer my questions?”

  The bald officer in front of me is holding out his notepad, his expression expectant of me to cooperate. He’s studying me with curious, intelligent eyes, I’m sure wondering why my reaction to her has been so strong.

  “Yes.” Wiping my mouth, I stand straight and give him my attention.

  “How do you know the deceased?”

  The deceased. It’s a cold description, but it’s true. Angela is dead, her body decaying in the dirt while everyone else has been partying. The people who could help her didn’t know, and the people who knew didn’t care.

  “Three years ago, I had a relationship with her. After our relationship ended, she started a relationship with a member of the Wild Royals.”

  The man’s head tilts, and his brows raise as he writes. He’s familiar with the club.

  “Do you know who she was in a relationship with?”

  “Rex Alverez.”

  “Did you see her or talk to her while at Bike Week?”

  “Saw her, yes. She was with the Wild Royals during the badass bike show. No, I didn’t talk to her.”

  “Based on how well you knew her, did she seem distressed when you saw her?”

  “Yes, she seemed distressed.”

  “Thank you.”

  The officer looks at Max.

  “How did you know the deceased?”

  Max leans back on his heels, his thumbs in his vest. With his past experience in the military, he’s able to handle this situation with a level of expertise and a calm composure I need right now.

  “I knew her from when she was in a relationship with him three years ago.” His elbow stretches out and points toward me.

  “Did you see her or talk to her while at Bike Week?”

  “Same as him. Saw her but didn’t talk to her. From what I knew of her, she seemed troubled.”

  “Did she speak with anyone else in your club or camp party?”