Wanted: An Outlaw Anthology

by Lane Hart

  I lift the sheet from my bed and crawl beneath them. As I lay on my back, I roll Miracle on top of me where she snuggles in. She cracks her eye open and asks, “Is it done?”

  “Yeah, baby. They’ll never hurt anyone again,” I say, hoping to ease her mind.

  “Good. May they rot in hell,” she buries her head in my neck.

  “They’ll burn for eternity,” I promise her.

  “Do you think our kids will continue to be a target?”

  “I can’t answer that with clarity. I’m just not sure, I never thought they’d touch our kids in the first place. I can’t make any promises Miracle.”

  “I’ll kill them myself if they ever lay a finger on one of my babies again,” she vows.

  “I’ll supply the gun and hold them while you do your damage.” I squeeze her close to me and hear her breathing begin to even out. Swear to God, I’ll never allow this shit to touch my family again. I’ll die before it ever happens. Lorenzo doesn’t know what can of worms he’s opened, but he will once I bury him beneath the ground with them. They can spend eternity together—himself, the worms, Jason and Stewart.

  “Goodnight, Jasper,” she says, surprising me because I thought she’d already fallen asleep.

  I pull her closer and respond, “Goodnight, my Miracle.”

  An hour later, I finally succumb to sleep and dream of a future of love, loyalty, honor and respect. I see our club thriving and growing stronger in numbers. It’s a dream I hope I live long enough to come to fruition.

  Epilogue

  Kobe

  We’ve been at war with Lorenzo for the last fifteen years. We’ve lost lives, they’ve lost lives. The hardest one to overcome was when Knuckles was captured, tortured and murdered. They dropped his body off in the dead of the night while we all slept.

  Our prospect at the time, Gavin, was manning the gate. When he pulled his piece, they fired automatic weapons out the side of the door and he died that night as well. Those gunshots are what woke us all up. I’ll never forget the devastation that my father and Libby suffered not only on that day, but each day since.

  Libby left the club six months after his murder. It was too hard for her to stay where all of her memories with her old man were at. She’s kept in touch with Dad, but we haven’t seen them since the day they pulled out.

  Sasha and Shelby started contacting Milly when they were sixteen. They’ve become close throughout the years. Not a day goes by that they don’t talk on the phone, facetime each other or text one another. Now that they’re older, they want to come back to the club. We’ve opened our arms and an invitation to them any time they choose to reunite with us.

  Today’s a big day for me. I’m being passed the President patch. My father has decided to step down and pass the reins to me. Things aren’t the same for him after losing brothers and allies. The events have taken a toll on him and his health has started to decline.

  Mom and he had a long talk, and decided that he’ll stay in the club, but that he needed to take care of himself before he wasn’t around to help me find my way. He’s not only my father, but he’s my best friend. I confide everything in him and can’t imagine a world without him guiding me through life.

  Milly is in college two states away. She’s going to school so that she can counsel those who’ve been sold and survived human trafficking. She wants to help victims rebuild their lives. She had nightmares for years until Mom finally put her foot down and demanded she get therapy.

  Her therapist is who turned her life around and changed it for the better. She’s the reason Milly is confident enough to take this road. The therapist also helped a lot of my family members move on from their grief.

  We’ve lost so many. Prospects—new and old, Knuckles, Kong, Malice and Bella. Bowie’s old lady, Bella, happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time and paid with her life. We hadn’t been informed by our informant that Lorenzo was making a move on us that day. She’d been out with Malice helping him pick out a nineteen-year wedding anniversary gift for his old lady, Sissy. They were gunned down in the streets walking out of the store.

  I didn’t think Bowie would ever recover from that loss. Ten years later, he met and then later married Kylie. She’s an amazing stepmother to Garrett, Grayson and Gaston. They love her to pieces and call her Stêponas, which somehow relates to the word stepmother in their father’s native tongue.

  Sissy and Sunny stayed in their homes on the club’s compound. They wanted their children raised and protected by the club. I’m grateful for that because Branson, Sunny and Kong’s son, is to become my VP. He’s also holding out for Milly. They’ve been together for years, he loves her unconditionally and has been faithful to her while she’s been away. I couldn’t ask for a better future brother-in-law than him. I know he’ll treat her right and always have her back through any situation.

  Most of us are staying within the club for relationships. We’ve grown up together and trust each other. We’ve been through thick and thin. We made vows after the loss of our loved ones that we’d stay together. We may not have started off in love, but we respect each other and as the years have dragged on, love has grown between those who’ve chosen each other. We also realize and know that we’re safe as long as we stick with one another. Don’t get me wrong, it’s no sacrifice on any of us. We want to keep the club strong and in order to do that, we need to keep those we trust close.

  We’ve learned valuable lessons from our fathers. After tonight, once Branson and I are patched into our officer roles, I’m committing to Amberly. She will become my old lady. I will be faithful and respectful to her. She deserves monogamy as she ties her life to mine.

  I’m aware the MC life isn’t glamorous or a life anyone would purposely choose for their women and children, but it’s what we’ve known and what we love. The club is, and will always, come first. That doesn't mean I have to sacrifice my relationship outside of that though.

  Amberly and I have been together for two years. We care deeply for one another, and I hope love comes in the years to come. She has been my rock and my biggest supporter.

  We have leapt over the crossroad and now we need to maintain it and keep owning it. My life hasn’t been full of sunshine and roses, but I wouldn’t trade it for all the treasure and gold in the world.

  This was my father and mother’s story, mine has yet to be determined. But the cards have been laid on the table and I can’t wait to see the hand I deal Lorenzo and his thugs.

  “Kobe! It’s time, boy!” My father yells. I look back at myself in the mirror and smile. This is my time, my day. The Crossroad Soldiers are moving forward with a new generation.

  “Coming!” I call out as I leave my room. I close my eyes and say farewell to the boy I’ve been and welcome the man I’m going to become.

  The End...for now

  About Liberty Parker

  Liberty has been an avid reader for most of her life. When she was younger she use to sit and fill spiral notebooks full of stories. She loves getting creative and working behind the scenes with her characters and bringing her imagination to life.

  Newsletter - Liberty’s Luscious Ladies

  Rebel Guardians Insiders

  Dread

  Masonry Ink

  SH Richardson

  Dread

  How do you earn a nickname that sticks with you no matter how far off the mark it is? For me, that answer was simple. You grew up with a loud-mouthed father who relentlessly yelled your entire government name at the top of his goddamn lungs in the middle of an elementary school yard. Every single fucking day. The oversized beast of a man struck fear in the hearts of impressionable five-year-olds, so much so, they hated seeing him coming and would cower in the shadows until he was gone. Kids have a knack for turning shit into gold; compound that with their limitless imaginations, and soon enough Jerome Red was cut down to simply Dread by the time I was six years old. It wasn’t me they feared; it was him, and he gave them every reason to and more with
his reputation for being an asshole. The lunch lady called me Dread, the librarian, hell, even the goddamn guidance counselor used the moniker during career week planning. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy. With an introduction like that, it’s no wonder I ended up doing time for aggravated assault before my eighteenth birthday.

  Karma was a cold-ass bitch.

  I was spending my last night in Mississippi doing what I did best. Sipping from a cool bottle of Budweiser, smoking a bowl, and getting my dick sucked by one of the local strange before I hit the road first thing in the morning. I followed the same routine whenever I was notified that victim services updated my whereabouts, making it easy for anyone to track me down if they wanted to find me. Some might call that running; I called it self-preservation. No fucking way was I going back to the joint by getting mixed up in something for a second time that wasn’t my fault to begin with. I’d done my time, kept my head down, and made early parole after nine months in lockdown. It hadn’t been easy, and I wouldn’t wish prison time on my worst enemy, no matter the ill will. Four years later, I was still paying the price every time that bitch got word and showed up to cause a ruckus, jeopardizing my freedom. The first time it had happened, I’d escaped through an open window three stories high before she got the chance to corner me. The second go-around, I’d promised to meet her at one of the hotels for a private chat. I’d taken off within the hour without a single possession to my name.

  Bitch wouldn’t get a third.

  Less than two months and a motherfuckin’ wake-up. That’s all I had left on my parole before I was a free man. One last stop on my never-ending roller coaster of ducking and dodging before I put all the bullshit in my rearview and got shot of that bitch, for good this time. My sham ass, twisted as fuck, so-called injured party was out there somewhere waiting to catch me with my guard down, so she could make good on her threats. Promises made to never let me forget what I’d done, at the same time punishing me for thinking I could just disappear without her permission. She’d never get the chance, not now, not ever.

  Jenny, Jasmine, or whatever the fuck her name was, stood in front of me in her black lace bra and panties with a sour look on her face. She tried to hold my undivided attention with a sexy little striptease, but I’d seen it all before. Usually, I never went back for seconds, but I was pressed for time, and she was more than willing without having to exert too much effort, which was just what I needed. The furnished room I rented inside this dilapidated house was a grade-A shithole, but it served its purpose. A bed, chest of drawers, and a private bathroom was all I needed for my short stay in this one-light town. Let’s face it, compared to a jail cell, it felt like the Ritz Carlton. My duffle was packed and waiting by the door along with my portfolio filled with sketches and various other art work I’d used to make a living. My entire life could easily fit inside the trunk of my car, at any hour of any day, whenever I was set to leave a particular place. I never allowed myself to get attached to anything that I wasn’t willing to walk away from in thirty seconds flat if I felt the squeeze gunning for me, tracking my whereabouts.

  So far, it’d worked.

  Just a little longer was all it would take.

  “Dreaddd…” the half-naked chick whined. Her nagging voice completely fucked up the buzz that had taken hours to reach. “You’re not even looking at me. Do you want me to leave?”

  Fucking attitude.

  Wrong answer, bitch.

  I took a deep breath with my eyes closed and thought about all the ways I could answer that question. My first inclination was to tell her to put her shit back on and take her nasty ass back to that dump of a bar I’d found her in; but that would just sound rude. Then I considered pulling out my dick and having her suck me off for the next few minutes while I sparked up another joint. Again. Rude but doable. I settled on having a bit of fun with little Ms. Whiney Pants over there, teach her a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget the next time she decided to go home with a man she barely knew from Adam.

  “Do you know why they call me Dread, baby girl?” I questioned.

  “Because… they’re scared of what you might do?”

  She flipped her poorly dyed hair over her left shoulder and gave me her best sexy pout. This chick was dumber than a box of rocks and completely fucking clueless. Bitch didn’t know me from a can of paint, and if the name Dread didn’t scare her straight, nothing I said would. She had one thing on her mind, and that was getting laid despite the warning bells that should’ve been going off inside her empty head. Typical selfish cunt behavior.

  “Afraid of what I might do, huh?” I laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that, baby girl.” I spread my legs and rubbed my cock through the front of my jeans. I wasn’t even close to getting hard, not without a little self-help.

  “Take off your bra, Jenny. Let me see your tits.”

  “Jenny?” she squawked. “My name is Justine, you asshole, not Jenny.”

  She threw her hands on her skinny-ass hips and tossed her bullshit attitude in my direction. JUSTINE had me confused with someone who gave a flying fuck about her goddamn name or her mock offence. The whole scene pissed me the fuck off, blew the rest of my high, and sent me barreling toward her with malicious intent. I’d allowed myself to be manipulated by a woman once in this lifetime. Led around by my cock like some kind of pussy-ass whipping boy, too young and naïve to know I was being used. That shit would never happen again. It was time I taught this bitch the real reason why they called me Dread. I grabbed her on the back of her scrawny neck and squeezed, just hard enough to hold her in place while she took in my words.

  “You think I give a fuck what your name is, cunt?” I leaned into her. “I. Fucking. Don’t. Pick up your shit and get the fuck outa my sight.”

  I expected her to take the hint and leave, run away from the big bad coming her way.

  She didn’t.

  They never do.

  “I’m… I’m sorry, Dread,” she stuttered. “I was just kidding around, you know, to get your juices flowing, so we could have a little fun.” She grinned uncomfortably.

  “We fuck when I’m ready to fuck, you got that, JENNY?”

  I gave her a little shove and stalked over to the side of the stripped-down bed in the middle of the room. I should’ve just kicked her ass outdoors without the taste of my cock she so badly wanted. I’d given her the chance to leave, but the stupid bitch just wouldn’t give it up. She circled my waist from behind and mewed seductively while she rubbed the front of my jeans with the palm of her hand.

  “We can take as much time as you want, Dread. I’m down for anything.” I grabbed her hand and stopped her cold. This was my world.

  “Step the fuck back,” I growled.

  Her touch pissed me off more and more. Her hands felt like acid along my skin the longer she caressed my chest. Jenny didn’t miss a beat; in fact, her breathing had accelerated to a near pant while she played with her hardened nipples through the front of her bra directly behind me. I closed my eyes and sighed behind gritted teeth. Disgusted. She was just like all the rest who came before her. Users with a taste for a bad boy they could brag about later to all their friends. I’d give her what she wanted, what they all wanted.

  I always did.

  “Take off your panties and get on your hands and knees in the middle of the bed,” I demanded.

  “Like this?” She climbed on top and gave her ass a little wiggle with a sultry smile in my direction. That’s not the way the game is played, JASMINE.

  “Turn around and face the wall. Ass up, legs spread, and don’t talk.”

  It took her all of two seconds to comply. Her desire to please me was overshadowed by the eagerness to do whatever I said in order to feel my cock inside her. The shit was almost laughable. Her greedy cunt glistened in the darkened room with her arousal. The odor was rank and musky, like an old fish head left outside in the heat too long. Served me right for fucking with this bitch in the first place, except now, it was personal.
I grabbed her by the back of the hair and yanked it forcefully, causing her neck to snap awkwardly.

  “They call me Dread, baby girl,” I breathed in her ear, “because I’m that THING that goes bump in the night if you’re not careful.”

  I smacked her ass cheek as hard as I could and threw her down face first toward the mattress. She yelped in surprise, but that didn’t stop her from reaching a hand toward her clit and rubbing it between her fingers. The sloshing sounds from the excessive wetness mixed with her incessant moaning was doing my head in. I channeled all the pent-up rage and helplessness I felt toward my imaginary victim and took it out on that common whore. I called her every disgusting name I could think of just to clear my headspace and stay hard. When that didn’t work, I gave her what she wanted.

  The way I wanted to.

  The way I needed it.

  I sheathed my cock and slammed into her overused asshole with a harsh grunt. I hadn’t even bothered to remove my jeans; this wouldn’t take long. Bitch didn’t even balk at the sudden intrusion; in fact, she begged me to fuck her harder. Ten minutes later, she was perfectly spent and sated, lying across the bare mattress on her stomach, knocked the fuck out. I yanked off the empty condom and threw it on her back in a nauseated huff. I let that bitch get to me again. How long would I have to be shackled to that cunt before I finally earned my freedom? One last town, one more stop before it all went away. Behind the wheel of my car on that very night heading north, I looked forward to starting a new chapter and forgetting about the one I’d happily left behind.