A heavy body slammed into me from behind, a hand pushed at my left hip, and I stumbled into the room proper.
The room stank heavily of spray paint and some sort of citrus cleaner that made my nose twitch with the sudden urge to sneeze.
I whipped around, ready to confront the asshole who'd pushed me, even if it was an accident, and came face to face with a masked motherfucker with a machete raised over his head and fake blood splattered all over the front of his black jumpsuit.
"Arrrgggggg," he roared at me like a damn pirate.
My right eye twitched in annoyance as I looked around the big, machete wielding pirate wannabe to see if by some chance there was someone standing behind him hiding, someone else who could have been the asshole who'd pushed me. There was no one standing behind him or on either side of him.
This guy who worked here was the one who'd put his hands on me and shoved me.
Unbelievable. Now, I was no expert on how to run a business or how to appropriately conduct yourself while at work. My Club ran drugs and guns and had a half assed garage some of the guys tooled around in whenever the mood struck them. I would never have a job where I'd need to read an employee handbook on how to handle myself around the people visiting my place of employment. Hell, I highly doubted this asshole had to read through an employee handbook or sign anything saying he'd behave a certain way. I imagined this job was paid under the table and in cash. Maybe they were even volunteers. But I was certain they were given rules, and I was almost certain touching the people walking through these doors all night was something that would definitely be frowned upon and, depending on how far you took it, fired.
This asshole shoving me in the back deserved to be fired. If I had been smaller or weaker, there was a chance I would have gone down and done it hard.
He swung his machete wildly above his head as he roared like an angry, drunken pirate again.
I lifted my motorcycle boot off of the dirty floor and struck out with it, kicking him in the knee. Hard. I heard a pop right before his knee gave out, his weight too much to carry for the one leg to hold up. He howled out in pain as he collapsed to the floor.
He hunched in on himself, hands going for his knee, and I lifted my boot again. I struck out again, this time kicking him in the face with the heel of my boot. He grunted and immediately fell back, momentarily forgetting about his knee as he landed, splayed out on his back in the dirt.
His machete clattered to the floor as he reached up for the mask covering his face. I kicked out at it, sending it flying across the room and into one of the cardboard walls. The damn thing was fake and had felt so light I'd assumed it had been made of plastic.
What a fucking little bitch.
I left the room, walking away from the asshole on the floor, before I'd even had a chance to see what the hell had been so special about the room. I hadn't gotten to see anything.
Pissed, and not giving the first fuck if that limp pirate dick decided to get up off his ass and hobble his way to finding me, I went against my better judgement and decided to take a longer look around and actually check out some of the other rooms. He could come after me all he wanted, thanks to that kick I'd served up to his knee he'd be doing it at a snail's pace. I didn't care. Those three bikes beside Hash’s that I’d seen when I parked mine next to his let me know that no matter I hadn't seen em yet, I wasn't alone, I was far from it. My brothers would take my back, no matter what, and they'd kick the shit out of some limp ass wannabe pirate and his friends. Hell, that asshole had to have had at least a good seventy-five pounds on me, and I'd dropped him on his ass like it'd been nothing. And, really, it had been nothing.
Fucking weak and lame.
I strolled through machine made fog with utter confidence, seeking something to get my blood pumping, and it wasn't some masked asshole or a douche wearing a sheet and pretending to be a ghost, or what the fuck ever it was they had hidden away in these cardboard rooms. No, I was looking for a dark eyed, light haired beauty who'd get my blood pumping alright, but not in a way that was appropriate for being around other people, especially the young, innocent ones.
When I could no longer hear the pained grunts of the loser I'd put on the floor, I decided I'd gone far enough and walked into the nearest doorless, giant cardboard room closest to me.
My mouth popped open in shock at what greeted me, and I couldn't keep the low wolf whistle in if I'd tried.
Now this, this unexpected sight, which really shouldn’t have been unexpected at all because I knew he wouldn’t be here by himself, was almost more than I could handle.
And, what’s more is, I actually liked it.
CHAPTER THREE
Some People
I cleared the doorway and, on silent feet that were only silent due to the pathetic screams of others being sung all around me, I shuffled to the side. I moved to a darkened corner and backed up against the cardboard. I crossed my arms over my chest and made sure I didn't put any weight on the cheaply made wall because I knew even a little weight would be enough to take the whole damn thing down.
My eyes skirted away from the show that I was sure wasn't meant to be a show and looked at what else was in the room. Only because I was curious and not because my lungs burned and my heart constricted in my chest.
I hadn't expected to find it so damn hot.
I swallowed down my desire, thickly, painfully, as I took in what sat on display in the center of the makeshift room.
There was a table covered in a glaringly white table cloth that that looked like it was glowing in the dark.
A woman in a white hospital gown lay atop the table. A figure hunched over her body with a scalpel held aloft in its hand, and I couldn't see much more than that.
I stepped away from the wall and moved towards the table and what lay on it. A quick glance at what was going down in the corner to make sure he hadn't noticed me, which he hadn't, made it so I walked to the table no longer worried about being spotted.
The first thing I noticed was the figure standing over the lady was a dummy. A big one with glassy, vacant eyes and straw sticking out of its chest. The damn thing was creepy and looked like it was wearing a mask made of somebody else’s skin.
The body on the table twitched, making my body jerk in surprise. The woman blinked open big, brown eyes, and my lips parted. I moved up closer to the table so I could get a better look at her and what was going on with her open hospital gown. That freaky beast wasn't standing over her with a scalpel in hand for nothing. The front of her white hospital gown had been shredded. Her stomach was covered in blood and what looked like spaghetti noodles.
I reached out, trailed a finger through the blood and put my finger to my lips. My tongue flicked out, tasting the so-called blood.
"Hmm," I muttered. "Sweet." And this was no lie because whatever she'd used as fake blood did taste sweet. I almost dragged my finger back through the blood so I could get another taste of it.
My stomach rumbled, and I hadn't realized I was hungry and hadn't eaten since breakfast earlier that morning. If I hadn't found what I'd come in here looking for, then there was a good chance I'd have bailed and gone somewhere to eat and tried my damndest to forget I'd been here in the first place.
"Help me," the woman on the table moaned pathetically, and I grinned down at her.
She lifted a hand out towards me, and I immediately stepped back, not wanting her to touch me. It was nothing personal, I’d just had my heart set on someone else, and ever since I'd figured out my feelings towards him I hadn't wanted anybody else, much to my horror. I knew I’d find a female attractive again and soon, but not at this moment in time. It wasn’t happening.
"Please," she whined, and I shook my head as I looked down at her.
I hoped she wasn't a volunteer and got paid good for this shit because her job sucked. No way would I want to lay there with most of my body on display for people to come in and gawk at. You could see her underwear for fuck's sake, and the entirety of her
bare legs. I hoped like hell they didn't let little kids in here to see this shit, because it'd freak their asses right out and no little boy needed to see his first half naked bitch when she was covered in fake blood and pasta noodles with some freak standing over her with a scalpel in his hands.
"Help me," she groaned, and I started to chuckle even though I absolutely did not want my boy to know I was there perving on him yet. It was probably never good to let him know I was perving on him because his friendship meant everything to me, and I didn't want to make him uncomfortable and lose him like that. I didn't want him to just be my brother by the patch and nothing more. I was a selfish bastard always, but in this, with Hash, I wasn't going to be selfish for once. I needed to start digging deep so I could bury my feelings for him and hope like fuck I didn't get drunk one night and unleash them on him, because it would destroy me.
The chick on the table grabbed ahold of the corner of my leather cut and tugged on it. Without thought, I looked her dead in her eyes as I grabbed ahold of her hand none too gently. I bent over, leaning closer to her and put my face in hers.
I squeezed her hand and whispered harshly, "Bitch, don't fucking touch me."
She winced, and I let go of her hand and flung it back at her. Her eyes widened in fear as they roamed over me, taking in my cut and all that was me, and I gotta admit that I liked it that she was afraid of me because of my cut. It thrilled me, and I couldn't help the smug smile that curled my lips up or the glee that filled my eyes.
She scooted further away from me, her body sliding across the table in the opposite direction from where I stood, closer to the big dummy and part of her pasta noodles slid to the side off of her body and landed on the table cloth with a loud plop.
My eyes quickly flicked towards the dark corner before coming back to the woman on the table, making sure Hash still wasn't paying attention to me, and he wasn't. He had the hand I could see up a short skirt and didn't even know I was there. Fuck, he acted like there wasn't a lady laying on the table right behind him and instead he was in a private room just for him and his date.
I shook my head, and my smug smirk turned into a small, genuine smile that shocked the shit out of me.
I thought this would break me. Instead, it only served to turn me on and get my dick nice and hard.
"You need to leave and get out of my room," the bitch on the table hissed at me like an angry cat.
I tore my eyes off of watching Hash finger some girl I'd never seen before to look down at the bitch on the table. The smile slid clean off of my face, and I glared down at her.
She was ruining this for me, and I didn't appreciate it one bit.
And, if I wanted to stay in this room then that's what I was going to do, and if she had a problem with it, then she could get up off the table and take her ass the fuck out of here because it wouldn't be me leaving until I was good and ready.
She'd seen my cut, I know she did, because I'd watched her eyes widen in fear when she took the patches on my leather in. She knew the score as soon as she took that shit in, and it's the reason her eyes filled and widened with fear. Because what she knew was that even though I wasn't a full member of the Club, I was on my way to becoming one and, therefore, would expect to be treated a certain way due to my association with my Club. And the way I expected to be treated was that you either got on board with the way I wanted to do things or you got the fuck out of my way, because if you didn't, I would plow your ass over and take your ass down without a second thought.
The Club was well known in these parts, and it wasn't lost on people that we were all a bunch of Outlaws and liked to keep to ourselves. On certain occasions, we would mingle and when we did people showed us a certain level of respect that we were used to and felt like we were owed. To do anything but usually brought out an entirely different, unfriendly side that nobody wanted to be on the wrong side of.
Needless to say, this bitch knew who she was tangling with, and her demanding I leave the room was flat out stupid. I didn't feel the need to educate her because I had already assaulted one worker here tonight and didn't need to add another to the list, especially a fucking female. I wasn't into hurting women, but I would definitely do what I needed to do to get my point across, however that was needed.
I crossed my arms over my chest, making the leather creak and glared at her, hoping that's all it would take to get my point made to her.
Thankfully, she was weak and got the point real quick and backed down.
"Right," she muttered. "Just leave me the fuck alone, and I'll return the favor. I need this job so I can't get up and leave here or I won't get paid, and I need the money too bad to leave. Sorry I touched you, and you didn't like it. It's all part of the role I'm playing here to reach out and touch people because it freaks them out, and that's the whole point to this gig, to scare the shit out of the people who come in here looking to be scared. I'm sorry if you took me touching you as something more than me doing my job, it wasn't my intention. Please, I don't want to have any problems with you here or that guy over there who's wearing the same jacket that you are. I don't need that kind of trouble."
I nodded my head, acknowledging that I'd heard her and wasn't going to cause her any more trouble.
Though, I found it interesting that she'd seen Hash and had acted like he wasn't there when she clearly knew what was going on over in the corner of her cardboard room. It was very interesting that she didn't even seem offended or bothered by that fact that there was some guy in her space who was feeling up a girl off in the corner. It made me wonder what else she'd seen while laying on that table and how bold some people actually were when they walked through here.
I turned just my head to the side so I could look over my shoulder, because I'd just now realized that no-one else had entered this room after me. That seemed weird because there were so many people out mingling and walking through rooms that it made no sense to me that someone hadn't come in here after me. Where the hell were all the people, and why weren't they coming in this room?
When no one entered the room while I was staring, it really bothered me so I turned around fully and walked on heavy feet to the doorway, not bothering to check my footsteps, momentarily forgetting I didn't want the other people in the room knowing I was there.
Hash was so focused on what he was doing to the girl under her skirt and between her legs while his mouth assaulted hers, that he didn't even twitch when my boots stomped through the room. I shook my head in amusement. Jesus Christ, but he needed to pay better attention to his surroundings, and he needed to do that shit fast because with the Club you always needed to be on your guard; anything was possible and the possibilities were downright fucking scary due to the shit the Club was involved in. You couldn't afford to have your back to a door in an unknown place, and you sure as fuck couldn't afford to have your attention so divided and gone for pussy that you had no idea what the fuck was going on in the room you were standing in. That shit would not fly, and it sure as fuck wouldn't earn you your patch. I knew if my brother were here he would test Hash in some way and likely deliver some kind of lesson that would make sure he never forgot his surroundings again. Hell, most of the guys would have done the same, I knew neither Batey or King would have missed out on an opportunity to put a recruit in their place.
When I made it to the doorway I stuck my head out and looked around. The place was eerily quiet, and there were no longer any feminine screams of fright or masculine grunts of terror.
What in the actual fuck was going on? Where in the fuck were all of the other people? This place had cleared out like a ghost town, which wasn't reassuring due to those fucking smoke machines still going strong.
I shook my head and walked back into the room, putting the weirdness of the sudden quiet out of my mind and focusing back on what was important to me.
The girl must have come since I'd been looking out in the hallway because Hash no longer had his hand up her skirt and instead it was under her shirt and
he was feeling her up in a different way.
This wasn't fun for me to watch anymore, and the longer it went on without them knowing I was here watching made me feel more and more like a fucking pervert and a horrible friend. I needed to let them know I was watching before it put any strain on our friendship.
Fuck.
How in the hell was I supposed to go about letting him know I was here, I did not know.
I looked at the bitch lying on the table and was baffled to see her eyes not on me, but on Hash and his girl he had pressed up against the wall, and they were heated. If I'd felt like a pervert before, I didn't any more. This bitch had no right to be watching my boy while he got his rocks off with some girl, even if they were in her room. That wasn't cool with me, and I know it made me a motherfucking hypocrite for thinking it. I just didn't give a shit.
"Yo," I shouted and then switched to my normal voice after Hash flinched at hearing my shout. It killed me that he flinched at hearing my voice, but I had to ignore it and keep going. "You're puttin' on a show here that you might not know you're puttin' on and need to reign it the fuck in before you end up fucking that girl against the cardboard wall for everyone who walks in here to see. You might not care about that, but I'm bettin' she might as soon as the orgasm you just gave her wears off and reality sets back in."
Hash stopped what he was doing under the chick's shirt and looked back over his shoulder at me. His eyes weren't angry or even upset. In fact, he looked mildly amused, and it wasn't fun to see on his face.
"Are you the one I was puttin' on a show for?" he asked in a teasing voice that had my chest constricting painfully.
He was fucking amused by the thought of me standing here watching him feel up some random girl. That didn't sit right with me, and I wasn't entirely comfortable with as to why, it was only because it was Hash. Any one of the brothers would have been amused at being caught with their hand up a hot skirt. And she was hot, now that I could see her actual face, I noticed more than where my boy's hands were on her, and I wasn't in the least bit surprised to see she was hot.
Wicked Tales Anthology Page 2