Sons of Mayhem 3: War and Vengeance
Page 2
We walked up to our floor and headed to our room. As we walked down the hallway it all seemed so childish to me. Each of the doors were decorated with signs displaying the occupants’ names and whatever pictures or other artwork they’d decided to decorate it with. There were hearts and stars, glitter and cartoon puppies, rainbows and lipstick kisses. Coming back here after the previous 24 hours felt like going back to kindergarten after high school.
“Yoo hoo! Nicole! Lucy!” Ugh. Belinda. She was the RA and one of the most irritating people I’d ever met.
“Hi Belinda. Bye Belinda.” I don’t have time for your shit today Belinda.
“Make sure you have him out by se-ven” she sing-sanged.
While we were allowed guests during the day, all male visitors had to be out by seven p.m. and, like all the other rules, this was gleefully enforced by Belinda. If there was a male in your room, no matter how quietly they snuck in, Belinda would be there like an annoying fairy-godmother the second the clock struck 7, hammering on the door with a cry of “Ro-meo, time to go-ohhh!”
Most irritatingly of all, Belinda’s room was right next to ours. We joked that she spent most of her evenings with a glass pressed against the adjoining wall, listening to make sure we hadn’t sneaked a boy in or a can of beer.
I pulled out the room key from the tiny pocket on the front of my shorts. There was no ring, or chain with it, but even so it had been digging in to my leg for the past day. We entered the room quickly leaving an inanely smiling Belinda outside in the hallway.
I pulled Jase over to my side of the room where we sat on the edge of the bed. Lucy walked over to her closet. I watched as she unzipped the sides of her boots, and then, lifting her legs high into the air one after the other like a ballerina, pulled the boots off and dropped them onto the floor. She was much more elegant than me at that. Practice, I guess.
"I'm going to take a bath." She reached into her closet and pulled out one of her large white fluffy towels. Lucy was famed for her long baths and I knew we wouldn't see her again for at least an hour, maybe two. She grabbed a few items of clothing and her plastic basket filled with a dozen or more soaps, shampoos and creams and headed out the door. She looks so innocent. Is that really the girl who fucked two bikers yesterday?
I reached my hand over to Jase’s and gave it a squeeze. He squeezed it back, sighed and let his body fall back on to the bed. I looked down at him. Laying there with his eyes closed he looked exhausted.
I sat on the edge of the bed, leaned forward and pulled off my own boots. I knew that if I tried to do it the same way Lucy had, raising my legs into the air while standing up, I would have toppled over. I didn’t try.
With my boots off I lay back next to Jase. I felt dirty. I was dirty - my hair was full of the reek of smoke and there were still gray stains and smudges from dust and dirt on my body. I resolved to have a shower as soon as Jase left.
When my head hit the bed next to his our faces turned to each other and he opened his eyes. We gazed at each other, unspeaking. Nothing needed to be said. Nothing could be said. Too much had happened in too short a time. But still not enough.
I felt an aching inside me, a needing want to be held, to be touched, to be filled. After the craziness we’d been through I wanted the reassurance of strong arms around me and someone holding me tight.
And Jase? What did he need? I think he needed a release. So soon after losing his friend I knew he was seething inside, I knew he wanted to do something, to get revenge; but he couldn’t, at least not yet. But he was still full up with pent up emotions and feelings - he had needs to be released.
His eyes widened as he stared into mine. For thirty seconds, and then a minute, we simply looked at each other. But as we stared I could feel myself burning up. Adrenaline was rushing through my body and my aching muscles felt revitalized. I could have sworn I could feel the heat emanating from his body filling the gap between us. We stared, and we looked, and our breathing became shallower and faster. I gulped. He swallowed.
Then he was on me. One moment we were laying in tense silence, the next was filled with a flurry of movement, of rushed gasps and surprised moans. The t-shirt Lucy and I had so carefully worked on the day before was ripped open and flung aside.
My skin-showing jean-shorts were yanked down and tossed away, my panties going with them. In seconds I was shoved backwards onto the bed, naked and bare, my legs spread open offering myself to him. I felt no shame or embarrassment, no fear or worry. My body was covered in goosebumps as I lay before him, consumed by lust, waiting for him to take me.
He reared up from the bed and yanked off his shirt. I couldn’t help but shiver as I once again saw his carved and tattooed chest and flat stomach above me. His eyes were wild as he yanked open his belt and pulled down his jeans and underwear. Take me. Do me. Fuck me.
His eyes were crazed, like an animal - there was no romance in our first time, it was pure lust, pure desire, pure need and release. He yanked off his boots and pants and then he was upon me. There was no cuddling and no gentle kisses, there was no teasing or foreplay or will-we, won’t-we.
Jase grabbed my ankles in his strong grip and forced my legs up around my head. I bit my lip and moaned as I saw him kneeling before me as he rapidly positioned himself. And then my quiet moan turned to a gasp as he shoved himself forward, thrusting into me. I was hot and wet and ready but the force of the sudden intrusion sent a lurch through my stomach and I let out a little shriek.
“Oh God.” I let out in a whine as he began to thrust into me. I’d never experienced anything so sudden or rough. My previous experiences had all been of slow buildups, caressing, teasing and slow and gentle entry full of countless questions of concern and utterances of reassurance. But the first time with Jase? It was like being taken by a Viking.
I squeezed my eyes shut and held onto my ankles as he drove into me, grunting. He started hard and fast and then only got more and more intense. I panted and moaned and whined and gulped as he pounded into me over, and over and over. I opened my eyes a moment and saw that his were wide open, staring down at me with a grimace on his face as he thrust himself again and again into my hot, tight and willing body.
We didn’t speak at all that first time. Our only communication was my slick acceptance of his forceful thrusts. Our violent coupling couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes, but my body still rewarded me with an explosive orgasm that overwhelmed me to numbness as he let out his final grunts and finished his punishing thrusts with a final push that seemed to force my mattress up around me as he forced me downward.
He collapsed on top of me, his head next to mine as he released my legs and I let them fall back down to the bed. I gripped his long dirty blond hair in two fistfuls as I held him close to me, his face nuzzled against my neck. The room was silent except for our rapidly slowing pants. I felt my body spasm around him as he slowly shrunk inside me.
No words were said as I held him close. I could sense he needed it. And so did I. I felt something damp against my neck. Are those tears? “It’s okay,” I whispered in his ear, “It’s okay.”
***
I woke up when Lucy came back. I found myself alone, lying naked under the sheets.
“What time is it?” I asked, bleary eyed.
“I don’t know.”
Her voice was calm and soft, not its normal ebullient self. I watched as Lucy crawled into her bed and pulled her pillow over her head, blocking out the world. It seemed like a good idea so I lifted my own pillow to mimic her, and that’s when I found the note.
Sorry. I had to go. I can’t see you for a while. The clubhouse is on lock-down. We have things to sort out. I’ll call you. Sorry about before. ~Jase
“Don’t call me, I’ll call you.” I muttered to myself.
Lucy lifted the pillow off her head. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t call anyone.”
What?
“Okay.”
I pulled my
own pillow over my head and curled up into a ball. I could feel every ache and bruise across my body. Inside, too. I closed my eyes tightly and focused on the different pains, savoring them as I remembered what he did to me, and what I’d done to him, since we’d met.
When will I see you again?
CHAPTER THREE
Jase
The motorcycle let out a satisfied roar as Jase gunned it hard. Quickly leaving the compound behind he headed down the quiet highway in the direction of Gauge’s place. He’d spent longer than he’d meant to at the college and now it was time to get back to work. The work of planning some serious fucking revenge.
His bike ate up the road ahead as he tore towards his destination. He loved it out there, where there was almost no traffic and little chance of being bothered by the cops. The needle crept over 100 and he lost himself in the roar of the engine and the emptiness of the road.
He couldn’t get there fast enough, but when he arrived his destination seemed to have come too quickly. I wish I could just ride forever. Keep on going. Head out east. Or west. Or, hell, anywhere.
He nosed the motorcycle down the potholed track that led to Gauge’s trailer. When he arrived at the ramshackle mobile home he was unsurprised to see Gauge waiting outside, a rifle in his hands. He’d heard him coming. It was impossible to sneak up on Gauge. Of course, it was impossible to sneak up on anyone riding a motorcycle like his.
“Boss,” he said with a nod as Jase descended from the saddle. His voice sounded like a gravel truck unloading. Years of smoke, whisky and the kind of shouting only a sergeant major knows how to do had taken its toll on his throat leaving his voice deep and thick.
Gauge had an expectant look on his weathered face as Jase grabbed his hand in greeting. This was only the second time Jase had been out there.
“Shit’s gone down.”
The ex-soldier nodded. He didn’t seem surprised. He indicated two lawn chairs and a table that sat under a tattered awning hanging from the trailer. Now a light pink color, they’d once been bright red, in another time and place. Jase sat down and watched as Gauge carefully placed the rifle on to the table between them and pulled out a flask.
As Jase recounted the events of the night before and that morning Gauge’s expression grew grim. Once or twice his hand reached up to stroke the butt of the rifle, and when Jase told him about Brodie his hand wrapped around it.
The face of the retired soldier was hard as Jase finished telling him what had happened. “Brodie was a good man.”
Jase nodded. Silence surrounded them. A dark, brooding silence; the kind of silence you can almost grab and hold, the kind of silence that forebodes unspeakable violence.
Gauge undid the top of the flask and offered it with a wave. Jase took it and filled his mouth with the burning liquor. He held it in his mouth savoring the burn before swallowing. He handed the flask back to Gauge who took a quick swig of his own.
“So you want revenge?”
“Yes.” Jase leaned forward, his eyes intense as he raised his eyebrows at Gauge. “More than revenge.”
Gauge nodded. “Destroy them?”
Jase nodded. “Something like that.”
A small smile crept across Gauge’s lips. Jase knew it wasn’t exactly a smile of pleasure though. He’d seen it once before, when they’d been working the door of a club together. A frantic waitress had called them inside where an ugly drunk was causing a scene. The drunk had laughed when Gauge had politely told him it was time to leave. Then there was the smile. And then, half a second later, maybe less, the drunk was falling to the floor, his hands beginning to raise to a nose he didn’t yet know was broken. Gauge was fast. Fast and deadly.
The flask was proffered to Jase again, and as he took it from the outstretched hand he saw the little man hanging from a parachute tattooed onto the web of skin between Gauge’s thumb and forefinger. It was almost cartoonish, but what it represented was not - it was a symbol of the years he’d spent jumping out of planes and then killing his country’s enemies.
Jase took a swig and let it hang in his mouth before swallowing, enjoying the burn. “So. I want to bring you up. And then I want you to tell me how to get these Mexican fuckheads.”
“It’s barely been a year since I showed up. Won’t it piss some people off?”
“So what.”
Gauge grinned. “So fuckin’ what.”
“We’ll have to vote on it. But it’ll pass. We’ll do that tonight. Make sure you’re down the clubhouse tomorrow. We’re going to want to move fast on this.”
“Okay. You’re the boss. But, if you want to do this - I mean really do this - I’m going to need you to listen to me on a few things. We want the Mexicans to be the ones doing all the dying. Not us.”
Jase nodded. “Of course. You’re the expert on that side of things. If it was up to me we’d be over there shooting anyone who even looks like they’ve eaten beans and rice before right fucking now.”
The ex-soldier grinned.
“And Gauge?”
“Yeah?”
“For fucks sake, please get a goddamn phone.”
Gauge just laughed and shook his head, as if the very idea of getting a phone was preposterous. His trailer had no running water, no Internet and was off the electricity grid. He had a diesel generator but he almost never used it. While all outlaw bikers live outside of regular society, Gauge took it to an extreme.
***
The faster Jase rode, the louder the engine screamed, the less it hurt. He flew back to the clubhouse in record time, wishing it was further.
That evening Jase and the Doctor once again sat opposite each other beside Bigfella’s seat. The other members arrived promptly and sat in an expectant silence.
At 7:01p.m. Doc raised his eyebrows to Jase. He gave a nod in return, indicating that the Doctor should start the meeting. Jase’s fingers were digging into his palms and his stomach felt sick as for the ten thousandth day he remembered what had happened to his friend. I can’t run a meeting. Not now.
The Doctor cleared his throat before beginning to speak. There was no need to bang the table for attention today. “In the last twenty four hours there has been an attempt on Jase’s life, Bigfella was framed for murder, and the Mexicans killed our brother.” Jase watched as Doc’s eyes scanned the room, seeming to check that the words had had their intended effect. There was no need. Everyone was already pissed off.
Doc continued, “We need to consider how we respond to these assaults carefully.”
Bottle leaned forward and spoke, “How about we carefully slit the throats of all the fuckin’ Mexicans.”
Jase sighed as there were snorts of amusement around the table, but he was relieved that no one was in the mood for full blown laughter. “Here’s the thing. First, the Mexicans are going to be expecting us. When we pay them back we’ve gotta do it right—”
T-Bone cleared his throat in a way that let everyone know he was about to speak and there wasn’t anything you could do to stop it. Jase paused to let him have his say. “We’ve been set up. We know this. This shit with the Mexicans has been manufactured,” he paused to wheeze before continuing, “so aren’t we just doing whatever the fuck the person or people who set us up want if we go after the Mexicans?”
Jase looked around the table. T-Bone didn’t seem to have much support from the angry looks of the others around the table. He is right, of course. But Brodie.
“They brought it on themselves. We sent Brodie in good faith. They murdered him. It doesn’t fucking matter if we’re getting played. We’ve just got to play better. I say we don’t get in a tit-for-tat war with the Mexicans,” Jase paused for effect, “We pay them back ten, a hundred, a thousand times over. I say we end this war before it fucking begins and wipe them the fuck out.”
The table shook with the sounds of the members banging the table in agreement. It’s been too long since the club showed its muscle.
Jase watched T-Bone let out a sigh. “I guess you’r
e right. But how the fuck can we do it? We’ve dealt with people before. But a whole fuckin’ gang? Can we do it?”
Jase’s eyes were fierce. “We have to do it. For respect. For Brodie. For too long we’ve been silent. Our influence has gotten weaker. Ten years ago who were the fucking Mexicans? Nobodies. Now they’ve got the balls to do this in fucking Farmington? Bullshit. We have to do this.”
There were more nods and roars of agreement around the table. The excitement was palpable.
When it had quietened down Doc spoke. “We’ve lost a member, in fact we’ve lost two members since we last brought someone up. And Bigfella’s not here for now.”
Lonnie spoke, his British accent always sounding jarring after the others. “What’s the latest on Bigfella?”
The Doctor looked to his left, at Bigfella’s seat and sighed before speaking, “I’ve been making calls. I think I’ve got a lead on where that bitch who was with him is. Turns out she’s scared or some shit. I tried to send the message that she should be scared if she doesn’t go to the cops. We’ll have her telling them she was getting railed by Bigfella when those bullshit murders happened before the week is out.”
Jase let out a half smile and noticed the pleased looks on everyone else’s face. He had briefly been worried that the woman would never turn up.
“So, god willing, he’ll be out soon. Now. You all know Gauge pretty well now, right?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Good guy.”
“Let’s bring him up.”
Jase was pleased at the general positive response. He had grown to know Gauge better than anyone in the club, but even to him he was still somewhat of a mystery.
The only voice of dissent came, once again, from T-Bone. “How long has it been? Six months? We barely even fucking know the guy.”
It was time for Jase to speak again. His eyes were earnest as he looked around the table, catching every member’s eye as he spoke. “It’s been fourteen months now, T-Bone. I know he’s a bit,” he paused to look for the right word, gave up, and continued with the wrong one, “quiet. But I trust him. If we vote him in, I would trust him just as much as any of you.”