by ML Nystrom
This was what I had expected of a motorcycle club house. Broken, mismatched furniture, beer bottles, cigarette butts, and other trash on every surface, posters that looked like they were torn centerfolds from porn magazines. The women there were nearly naked, topless and walking around in platform heels and thongs, bringing beer bottles to the men seated or standing around a pool table.
“Ha!” yelled a gray-ponytailed man who looked in serious need of a shower. “Pay up, asshole!”
“Fuck,” another man said, pulling a woman up from the stool she had been sitting on. “Here, and be quick.”
“Harley?” the woman asked, obviously scared.
“Shut up and bend over, bitch. The faster he’s done, the faster I can get outta here. Fuck her ass, man, not her pussy. I’m gonna poke that later.”
“Gimme some grease.”
I watched in horror as the woman raised her micro skirt and bent over the stool. She was an old lady according to the property vest on her back, but was being used as a prize for a bet. The man who won her had dropped his pants and was coating himself in some sort of lotion. He moved behind the woman and thrust himself into her ass. I expected her to scream from pain, but all she did was grimace, either because she was used to this abuse or because screaming would get her punished. The man pumped and thrashed, grunting with every plunge into her. She gripped the uneven stool to keep it steady, her knuckles white with pressure.
Other similar activities were going on around the room. I saw one young woman barely old enough to be there giving a man old enough to be her father a blow job. There was a table full of white powder and straws. Several bikers were enjoying the bounty.
This club was nothing like the Dragon Runners. These men were low. Abusers. They didn’t care about anything except getting high and screwing as many women as they wanted. The Dragon Runners held their old ladies in the highest regard, putting them and their children before all else. Even the club bunnies were taken care of and respected. In this club, the women were truly just property.
I tried to keep still and fake being asleep. The awkward position I was lying in made that harder and harder to do, as I could feel my back and hip starting to cramp. How was I going to get out of this? The answer was, I couldn’t. I had no idea where I was, let alone how to contact Mute or anyone else from the club. My phone was gone, and I was out of options. However, if I got a chance to run, I was going to take it. The last words Joker said to me were enough to convince me I needed to take my chances with anything else. I would fight. I had too much good in my life now not to try.
A body came flying through the air and crashed into the prize winner, knocking him and the woman over.
“What the fuck were you thinking, you stupid son of a bitch?”
I couldn’t fake it anymore, and sat up. No one was paying attention to me. All activity had stopped, everyone turning to watch the show unfold. Joker was getting up from the floor when the older man who threw him picked him up and threw him down again.
“It was a great opportunity, Prez.”
“You dumb asshole!” the man called Prez screamed. “The fuckin’ plan was to push them out slowly! Make the fuckin’ money we need to get some serious fuckin’ hardware! Get more recruits! We ain’t got the numbers or the firepower for a full-out war with anyone, especially the fuckin’ Dragons! I still can’t believe you thought burnin’ down their fuckin’ bar was a good idea, and now your dumb motherfuckin’ ass just took one of their ol’ ladies?”
Prez threw his hands up, jamming them across his sparse gray hair, and turned away from the prostrate Joker. “Fuck!” he yelled to the room in general.
No one was looking in my direction, but I didn’t dare move. The room was silent and still, the only movement and sound coming from the two men.
“No, no, no, Prez, you don’t get it!” Joker wheedled from the floor. “I didn’t get just any old lady! I got Mute’s old lady! Almost as good as getting Brick’s cunt in here! She’s a favorite of Betsey’s, and they’ll want her back and will pay big time for her!”
Wrong thing to say.
Prez’s craggy face turned beet red.
“Mute? Goddammit! What the fuck were you thinkin’? They ain’t gonna pay nothing! They’ll be coming here to pay us in goddamn blood and bullets! And Mute? He’s gonna slit your throat ear to ear and smile while he doin’ it!”
He emphasized his point by kicking out a jean-clad leg and knocking over one of the tables, sending bottles and beer flying. A woman let out a small scream. I held my breath. This could go bad for me. Very, very, bad. The door was on the other side of the room, but even if I had a chance to get to it, I had no idea where I was and I doubted I could outrun any of these men. Should I speak up? Plead my case for freedom? Maybe Prez would listen and let me go to try and stop a war. He paced restlessly in front of Joker, who was now rising from the floor. A cell phone rang somewhere in the room, and someone answered it in hushed tones.
“Prez! Come on! We got fuckin’ gold here! They’ll do anything to get her back, make any deals we want!” He chuckled in a high pitch. “I ain’t scared of the retard.” He grabbed his crotch, rubbing himself obscenely. “He’ll take her back even used a little. Been waitin’ to fuck that stuck-up pussy a long time. She’s got two holes, we can share!”
Prez stood still, his mouth opening and closing, speechless. I was even floored at the depth of Joker’s insanity. He finally exploded, “Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?”
“Prez! Whitey just called. He’s down at the Deep Gap gas station and saw a posse of Dragons on bikes heading this way fast, and they’s packing heavy. We got maybe ten minutes or so before they get here.”
“Get out,” Prez said with a calm that was both surprising and scary. “Get the fuck out of my club before I kill you myself.”
It seemed Joker was finally starting to get it that the leader of this club wasn’t kidding around.
“Prez… Mike… come on, man!” he wheedled. “You were gonna patch me over after we get rid of the Dragons! I’m already there, man!”
Prez sneered, “Do you really think I would ever patch a goddamn traitor into my club? Get the fuck out… NOW!”
Joker’s face hardened, his eyes going icy. “Fine. I’m going and I’m taking the cunt with me.”
Prez shook his head. “No you ain’t, motherfucker. The bitch stays here. Thanks to your fuckup, I gotta smooth things over. Returning her intact will go a long way.”
Joker didn’t even flinch when he drew his gun and shot Prez in the stomach. The room turned to chaos. Women screamed and struggled to get away from the smoking gun. Men scrambled and shouted in disbelief, unsure of what to do. Prez lay on the floor, cursing and clutching at his abdomen.
My ears rang from the gunshot, and for a moment I froze, watching the blood leak between Prez’s fingers.
“You’re a dead man, Joker!” he growled. He coughed, and more blood came to his lips.
“Don’t bet on it, motherfucker,” Joker replied in a calm voice. He raised the gun again and shot the bleeding man between the eyes.
I heard more screams. The odd thought ran through my head that these tough-talking men weren’t much of a club. Not one of them tried to defend their leader, and ran away from trouble instead of fighting alongside their brothers. There were enough of them there that Joker should’ve been overcome and subdued with ease, but the tight brotherhood I knew from the Dragon Runners just wasn’t present in this pretend motorcycle club. I watched as grown men clawed and punched at each other and the women in their efforts to get out of the room. Joker strode over to me and slapped me to get my attention. The pain was sharp across my face where I was already bruised. My head snapped sideways, hard enough that I was knocked off the couch.
“Get up, cunt. We’re leaving.”
Joker stood over me, the gun casually hanging in his hand. I blinked at him, dazed, and struggled to rise, my numb hands making it hard.
“Hurry the fuck up, b
itch!”
He grabbed my upper arm and jerked me up. I cried out in pain, the tight gag muffling the sound. He dragged me stumbling out the door and to his bike. He paused, and yelled, “Fuck!” I saw a glimmer of hope in that he couldn’t have me on the bike without untying my hands, and I was already an unwilling passenger, so setting me free would allow me to fight him, as he couldn’t hold the gun, guard me, and drive at the same time.
That glimmer was snuffed when he jerked me around and stomped to an older SUV. He yanked open the driver door and shoved me at the seat. I cried out again as my shin hit the frame and I almost fell.
“Get in, bitch!”
I scrambled across in the seat as he kept shoving at me to move faster. He threw himself in the driver seat and started the car. Apparently, the owner always left the keys in the ignition, probably in case he had to make a fast getaway and didn’t want to take time to look for them. I felt a giggle threaten in the back of my throat at the absurd thought, and choked it back down. Now was not the time to antagonize Joker. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated, and his movements were rough and jerky. He turned to me and pointed the gun he’d used to kill Prez at my face.
“You move or breathe wrong, bitch, I will fuckin’ kill you,” he stated in a calm voice that was the opposite of his wild-eyed look. I could do nothing but stare. He spun the wheel and peeled out of the lot, spraying gravel until the tires grabbed the pavement of the main road. We took off like a shot. I saw a sign, and my heart dropped to my knees. We were entering the Tail.
Chapter 17
The Dragons pulled up to the Dead Horsemen clubhouse unchallenged. Shouts and curses filled the air as the enemy club members ran in and out of the house in total chaos. One member made an attempt to threaten the Dragons.
“Ride the fuck on, assholes! You’re trespass—”
A single punch from Mute had the young biker laid out flat on the ground, knocked out cold.
A topless woman awkwardly ran in heels out of the clubhouse, screaming and crying hysterically.
“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” she kept crying, even as she blindly ran into Cutter’s arms. She didn’t even acknowledge it was a rival club member she was clutching. “He shot him! Oh, my God!”
Brick snapped at her. “Who was shot? What the hell is going on?”
She turned to him, her eyes streaming black mascara down her blotchy face.
“It was Joker! He… he…. Oh, my God! He done shot Prez!”
Mute went still as a statue; icy rage rolled from him in waves.
Brick’s jaw clenched. “Where is Joker?” he growled.
The woman stared at Mute, frozen in place. “You’re him, ain’t you?” she asked, her voice low and breathy with fear.
Brick grabbed her by her upper arms, shook her twice, and barked in her face. “I ain’t got time to be nice, bitch. WHERE IS JOKER?”
“He… he… I…. He took off. Up that way to the Tail, I think. I know it’s a back way to get on the main run.”
“Did he take anyone with him? A woman?”
“I… he… I don’t know! Maybe the one he brung this afternoon. I ain’t seen her here before… oh, my God!”
Brick pushed her away in disgust and boldly entered the enemy clubhouse, along with Mute and Cutter. Taz and Stud followed, but stood at the open door. Two of the Horsemen were hovering over another, who was bleeding out on the floor. The other few were wandering around the room, not sure what to do. The coppery scent of blood floated in the air. One of the Horsemen spotted the invading Dragons and made a half-hearted attempt at bravado. He picked up one of the random guns on the floor and tried to threaten Brick.
“What the fuck you doing in here? Get the fuck out!”
One of the hunched over men stood up and smacked the gun out of his hand. “Put that thing down, ya dumb shit! It’s over.”
He was shorter than Brick and Mute, but no less commanding. Brick greeted him by name and a nod. “Bagman. I see you’re left holding it again.”
Bagman grunted a laugh and shook his head. His dark hair was tightly braided to his scalp, pulling his face tight, but he still looked worn out. “I’ve been left holding the bag for years, Brick. Looks like I gotta do it again. Prez is gone. Joker got him. I was out back and didn’t see them shots but I heard ‘em and saw Joker run out the house pulling the girl with him.” He ran a hand over his craggy face. “I know he wears your club colors, but he was antsy to patch in here. Prez said he could if he helped push the Dragons out. Since you got out of the drug-running business, Prez had been wantin’ it back bad. ‘Make lotsa money,’ he said. ‘Just run the Tail,’ he said. Dumb fuck!”
He kicked at the dead man’s boot. “I told him it was a bad idea to trust a man who would betray his own brothers.”
He heaved a sigh and squared his broad shoulders. Looking up at Mute, he spoke again. “Joker has your woman, and he took a back way we got hidden to the Tail in a cage. Old black Saturn Vue. He’s gotta head start, but the Vue’s wheels got some alignment problems. Transmission is bad too. He’s gonna hafta fight it, and it’ll slow him down some. He’s probably high. He’s a dangerous motherfucker sober, but you already know that. He’s gonna be worse now. Good luck getting your woman back. I hope she stays in one piece.”
Brick started shouting orders. “Taz, gather their guns. Bagman, get your boys to find a tarp or something to cover Mike up. Spike, call Blue and get his ass over here. He knows the sheriff on this side of the border and we gotta do this legal, but nothing about drug runs. As far as Blue knows, Joker shot your prez over the kidnapping. Let’s move.”
He turned to face Mute and Cutter. “Mute, I know you’re itching to get up the Tail. Take Cutter. Stud, find a cage and follow. This may not end well, so best have a backup. Best of luck finding Kat. If you find Joker, it’s time for him to go up the mountain and not come down.”
Mute nodded once, his body shaking with the need to exact revenge on Joker. He strode out the door followed by Cutter and Stud. Mute’s bike roared like an animal as he took off.
Chapter 18
As still as I tried to be, I couldn’t hold on to anything or control my movements. My shoulder and head slammed into the door when he flew around the next curve, and I nearly fell into his lap at the one after that. He was still holding the gun in one hand on the steering wheel, as he needed both of them to control the car. I was afraid he would shoot me by mistake, as wildly as he was spinning the wheel. I pulled at the seat belt and tried to get it fastened, but it was impossible. I grabbed at the hanging handle as best I could with my bound hands, and fought to stay upright.
Even scarier was Joker’s behavior. He was talking to himself, muttering and cursing as if reciting a children’s poem.
“Shoot ‘em up, fuck ‘em up, Jo-ker man. Make ‘em bleed as fast as you can.”
He jerked around a hairpin turn and I felt the car slide, tires squealing in protest. I must have uttered a sound, because Joker screamed at me, spit flying from his mouth. “Shut the fuck up!”
He spun the steering wheel again and the car lurched, making a horrible grinding noise. He kept talking. “Fuckers think they can get away with anything. Took away my old man’s pride. Left him broken. Turned pussy. I’ll fuckin’ show them. I’ll fuckin’ show them all!”
We flew around another curve, leaving rubber behind. I’d been on the Tail before on the back of a bike, and knew it was only a matter of time before we would wreck. At this speed, on these curves, we’d never survive. I was going to die today. I was sure of it. I wished I could tell Mute one more time that I loved him.
“Fuck me up the ass!” Joker hissed. I risked a glance at him. His eyes were darting between the road and the rearview mirror. “Looks like pussy man has decided to show up.”
I craned my neck as far as I was able and spotted a couple of motorcycles chasing us. I recognized the one in front, and my heart skipped a beat. Mute was racing toward us, twisting in and out of sight through the wild curves. He
was gaining ground fast, and I prayed he wouldn’t end up smeared on the road while trying to rescue me. I tried to reason with Joker, even though I knew it was futile.
“Joker, just pull over real quick and let me out. They’ll stop for me, and you can get away clean.”
“Fuck, goddamn fucking motherfucker!” Joker screamed, and slammed his hands against the steering wheel. I flinched, fully expecting the gun to go off in my face.
“I gotta get away. I gotta get away.” His mood flipped again as he chanted in a singsong voice, “Save it for another day. Gonna make ‘em all pay.”
I glanced back again at Mute and the rider behind him. He wasn’t close enough for me to see his face, but I could imagine it. His dark eyes burning with intensity, his jaw tight enough to crack. I closed my eyes and sent my love out to him.
We were on a long, tight curve, and inertia was pressing me hard against the door. Joker cackled. “Great idea, Pussy Kat! You get out there and stop them.” He reached across my lap, opened the door, and shoved me out. I couldn’t stop him. My only thought before I hit the ground was “this is going to hurt.”
And it did.
I held my arms in front of my face as best as I could. I bounced and rolled along the hard asphalt, leaving behind torn clothes, skin, and blood. My head hit front and then back. I felt a rib or two break, and something in my arm popped. Or was it my leg? I couldn’t tell. The pain hit me hard, and I suddenly couldn’t breathe right.
I came to rest in the middle of the road, on my side. Something was choking me, filling my throat with a coppery taste. Blood, maybe? I gasped, and bright red liquid sprayed from my mouth. Had a rib punctured a lung?