My dick twitches in my pants as a fantasy flashes through my head. I picture Sive naked on all fours and I’m fucking her from behind, then cum in her mouth.
The part of me I didn’t even expect to have reprimands me and a sense of shame spreads in my chest. I can’t touch that chick. It would be like a sacrilege. She is disabled and vulnerable, and even such a monster like me knows that people like her need protection.
I will protect her from the whole world. From me in particular.
She is a kid, and I have just adopted her. I will repeat it like a mantra until I start believing it myself.
Chapter 3
Sive
I’m hungry, thirsty and exhausted. My head pulsates with a dull pain. I’m fucked, but my situation is far better than fifteen minutes ago when that psychopath from the petrol station wanted to hurt me. He would have caused me pain in many different ways; I saw that in his sick glance.
I don’t trust this giant with inked muscular arms, sitting in front of me, but he saved me and for one brief moment, his grey eyes radiated with warmth.
He is handsome in a crude and dangerous way. A thin long scar runs across the side of his face and the unruly appearance of his black short hair intensifies the impression that his soul is wild and rebellious. Violent like the grey storm in his glance.
Axel revs up, and we shoot forward. My hands press against his hard abs; my heart pounds of fear, and I want to merge with his sleeveless leather jacket that he wears over a dark green t-shirt.
I know who he is. The inscription on his back says ‘Shadow Wolves MC’ and it’s the name of the motorcycle club he belongs to. Well, theoretically, he may be a criminal, but he offered me a roof over my head. He won’t let me starve either. I’ve got twenty-five dollars in my pocket so I won’t complain about his sudden hospitality. I might as well have been homeless tonight. I can’t afford to be fussy.
We ride at full speed, and I just focus on my survival. I’ve never been on a bike and a lot of bikers die or that’s what I heard so I hold on to Axel with as much strength as I can manage.
The air smacking my face fills me a sense of freedom and timelessness. It’s like my problems are non-existent. Only the roar of the engine and the speed matter to me. I dig my fingers into Axel’s abs and bury my face into his back. My thighs quiver against his bottom. It’s cold. The iciness of the air pricks my arms and my teeth chatter together. All the stress, uncertainty and fear grip me like a clawed hand and squeeze the energy out of me without mercy.
We pass a few houses as Axel reduces speed, and I realise that we are on the outskirts of a town. More buildings rise along the road; they exude the allure of the past and stand on the hillsides stretching on both sides of the road. My eyes flick over their Victorian facades; there is a saloon accommodating now a shop, and two cafes. It’s one of those places where one expects more ghosts than human beings. I wouldn’t be surprised if I couldn’t find this town on any map. It’s like we’ve just crossed between two dimensions. Like this tiny piece of reality hangs in a timeless bubble of fantasy separating it from the rest of the world.
Axel parks in front of a garage and holds my hand in his, helping me to get off his bike. The calluses of his palm scratch my skin. I plant my feet onto the ground and my eyes roam over the surroundings. There are two more bikes on my left and the garage door is closed. It’s Sunday, after all.
“Mine,” Axel says, tilting his head towards the garage.
I sigh with relief. He isn’t a criminal. He is a businessman. I’m lucky.
Axel glances at me with cold eyes and jumps off his bike. I’m shaking. My throat starts to be sore and tears well up in my eyes. I think I will end up with a bad cold.
“Jesus Christ,” he says. “It’s the beginning of the summer.”
With the back of my hand, I smooth my forehead and left cheek. I have a mild fever. Axel moves closer to me and runs his palm down the side of my face.
“You have a fever,” he says, confirming my suspicions.
He lets out a low guttural growl as though he is furious, then leans towards me and wraps his arms around my form, scooping me up. It’s so unexpected that I manage only a small groan. My hands jerk up and clutch the edges of his jacket. My bag bumps against my back as he carries me through the narrow passage between the garage and the wall of an uninhabited orange house with a devastated garden. The passage opens into a square area; metal parts and tyres lean against the concrete wall and patches of overgrown grass dot the ground around a former industrial building turned into a house. We enter it through a metal and glass door, and I find myself in some kind of loft accommodating a living room with an open plan kitchen.
Two people are lying on the corner emerald couch. They are both half-naked in fact, a young woman and a young man. They are occupied with themselves. The man is on top of the woman and kisses her neck, making her moan softly.
I’m so embarrassed by that couple that I bury my face into Axel’s chest. I can feel his lungs expanding in a deep inhalation as he rumbles, “Get out. Now.”
I turn my face and watch the woman crawling from beneath the man as he sits in the couch and tosses back his shoulder length dark hair. Tattoos adorn his chest and arms and he has a perfect body like he’s been working out for his whole life. He looks younger than Axel but has the same shade of eyes—bright grey like a storm cloud.
“I told you not to bring them here, Zane,” Axel growls.
The woman covers her full breasts with one arm and rummages around the room to pick up her bra and vest from the wooden floor. Two red and pink rugs cover the floorboards and their patterns resemble the Peruvian craftwork.
Axel sets me in the couch beside Zane who stares at me with his fingers sinking into his hair. I shrink into myself and lay my bag at my other side.
“What is it?” Zane asks, zipping up his jeans as his curious glance sweeps over my face.
He called me ‘it’, but I’m not angry with him. Zane’s whole being oozes a sense of humour and friendliness.
He isn’t paying attention to the woman who puts her bra, vest on, and corrects the waistband of her jeans shorts.
“This is Sive,” Axel says and turns his face towards the woman, “See you later, Lisa.” His voice is harsh. Menacing, even.
“See you,” Lisa says and escapes from the house like a predator is chasing her.
“Hi,” Zane says to me and extends his arm to shake hands with me. “I’m Zane.”
His grip is firm and warm and he holds my hand for longer than necessary. A dirty thought flashes through my mind whether he put that hand into his pants or into Lisa’s. Whatever. I can always wash my hands later.
“Sive,” I say.
Axel has just introduced me to Zane, but I feel I should say something.
Zane widens his eyes but doesn’t comment my speech. He sweeps my hair away from my face and glances at my bruises. I send him a smile because he seems to be a very nice person, and his lips curl into a wide grin as well.
“Wow,” he says. His grin softens into a genuine smile. “You little enchantress.”
I chuckle and Zane touches my bruises with his fingertips. His face tenses and his eyes radiate with concern.
“We have to take care of you,” Zane says and runs his knuckles down my cheek.
“Hey,” Axel growls and shoots us a rigid glance.
If a glance could kill, Zane or I would be already dead.
Zane moves away from me so the distance of an extended arm will separate us.
Axel rushes to the kitchen and opens one of the cupboards, taking out a piece of gauze and a plastic bottle. He returns to the couch and kneels in front of me, pouring the translucent liquid onto the gauze. His fingers gently sweep away the hair from my face as he cleans the bruise on my forehead. It stings and I hiss in pain.
“Make her a cup of tea,” Axel says, “with plenty of rum. She has a fever.”
“Where did you find such a cute little thing?” Zane a
sks as he rises to his feet in one smooth motion.
“On the road,” Axel says. “She was in big trouble.”
“What trouble?”
“A sick fuck who targets chicks like her. That kind of trouble. But I took care of him.”
“Properly?” Zane asks.
“Very properly.”
I don’t know what happened to the man who attacked me, but it seems like Axel knocked his teeth out. Well, it’s as it should be. Maybe that sick man will never do something like this again. I hope Axel or Zane will call the police as well. That psychopath should be in prison but surely, they must be aware of this.
Zane puts the kettle on and Axel wipes the skin around my nose and chin.
“Are you hungry?” Axel asks.
I bob my head at him and his palms land on either side of my head. The toilet would be a nice idea too so I curve my lips to ask him.
Embarrassment rolls over me. I hate it. I know what to say, but there is always a disconnection between my thoughts and my body parts responsible for producing speech.
“Toi-let,” I say. The muscles on my neck are taut with effort.
“Sure,” Axel says and strokes my hair with his palms, then lifts himself and scoops me up in his arms. It’s nice and awkward at the same time. I feel both like a princess and like a rotten egg.
We pass Zane who carries a steaming cup and places it on a glass coffee table by the couch. He opens his mouth to say something, but Axel growls, “Shut up.” He carries me towards an arched door of a burgundy colour and lets me slide down onto the floor.
“Have your tea, eat something and then I’ll prepare a bath for you,” Axel says and strokes my hair.
I chuckle and take his hand off my head. It’s too much for me. I’m very grateful for his help but I don’t want anybody to touch me like this now.
“Okay,” he says, “message received.” His palms rise in a warding gesture.
Chapter 4
Axel
I put the food into the microwave as my brother leans against the cupboard. A wide smile spreads across his face.
“Is Sive staying with us?” Zane asks.
“With me,” I say. “You are moving out to Boulder’s. There are only two bedrooms here.”
“Sive can sleep with me,” Zane says.
“I’m responsible for that kid—“
“Kid? Have you seen her tits? Man, she’s gorgeous, a hot little thing to caress. Have you seen her lips? Can you imagine yourself what those lips—“
“She’s only eighteen.”
“I’m twenty-three,” Zane says, tying his hair on the back on his neck. “I’m sure she’ll find a lot in common with me.”
“Forget, I’m telling you. Forget.”
“You want her for yourself.” Zane shakes his head then goes to the fridge and takes out two cans of beer, opening them and placing them on the kitchen worktop. “What is wrong with her, by the way?”
“She was very sick, and it damaged her speech or something. She’s a disabled person so forget about her. I’m telling you. You can see she’s not like all the others.”
“No, she isn’t. She needs somebody to look after her.”
“She needs some proper sleep far from your sticky hands.”
Zane looks at me like I’m talking nonsense. “You okay?” Sarcasm seeps through his words.
“She’s a kid,” I say firmly. “And I’m looking after that kid. No ulterior motives. Capito?”
“You’ve been to confession or what?”
“Fuck off, Zane. You’ve seen her? She’s a little—“
“A little enchantress.”
“She’s a lost kid.”
“I wouldn’t treat her like the others,” he says and sounds honest. “I would invite her for a date, ya know. Cinema or stuff like this.”
“You have just crawled off a woman, you dick.”
“It was only Lisa.”
“And this is Sive.” I emphasise her name. And then again, “Sive.”
“Yeah, I know. You buy flowers for such a girl, invite her for a date and fuck her only when she is your wife. I know the rules about such girls.”
“No fucking touching her. Stay away from her.”
“She might have a different opinion on whether she wants more familiarity with me or not.”
I begin to suspect that my brother has a crush on Sive, and for some mysterious reason that thought awakes a possessive animal in me.
“Stay away from her,” I bark. “She doesn’t need more entertainment in her life.”
“Man, what is wrong with you? You’ve never been so serious about any chick in your life.”
“She’s staying here until I find her a safe place to live and a job. That’s all. She’s the kind of girl guys like us don’t touch. Understood?”
“So set a good example first,” Zane says with sarcasm.
“Understood?” I growl.
Zane salutes me, and the bathroom door creaks open. Sive’s tiny feet shuffle against the floor as her trainers leave the smudges of dried mud behind her. Fuck that. One will die of hunger first before one dies of dirt.
Zane puts the plate piled with food on the coffee table and waves at Sive to take a seat and start eating. She sits on the floor, cross-legged, and holds a fork and knife like a little aristocrat. My brother settles himself beside her with his elbow propped on his knee and stares at her like she’s a fucking miracle. He can’t take his eyes off her. More than that. He’s literally groping her with his eyes, and it makes me so angry that I can barely control myself.
“Put a t-shirt on, Zane,” I say.
“It’s hot,” Zane says and his eyes flick over Sive’s profile, then travel to her breasts.
My hand jerks up as my fingers roll into fists and I grit my teeth.
Sive is eating with grace like she’s sitting at the table in the Buckingham Palace. I take my beer and settle myself in the couch behind her, taking off my cut and throwing it on the backrest.
Zane hands the cup of tea to Sive, and she takes a sip, gulps then coughs. My brother slaps her back between her shoulder blades and moves his palm up to the back of her neck.
“Drink it Sive,” he says. “It will do you good.”
She freezes with the cup in front of her lips, then tries to empty it, taking one small sip at a time. Every few seconds, the sound of her coughing wafts through the air until her throat starts to tolerate the rum infusing the tea. I suspect Zane was very generous with the alcohol.
“Prepare a bath for our guest,” I say. “And we will put her to bed.”
Sive turns her head and fixes her wide eyes onto mine. Zane scrambles to his feet and moves towards the bathroom.
“Give me your trainers,” I say. “I’ll wash them.”
Sive drops her head and removes her shoes, handing them to me with dread in her glance.
“I’mm so-rry,” she says.
“No problem. It’s just a bit of mud. Finish your food and have a bath.”
She empties the plate as I go to put her trainers into the washing machine but I don’t turn it on.
“Give me your jeans,” I say, “and your t-shirt. And your socks.”
Sive scrambles to her feet and walks towards me, carrying the plate in her hand. She puts it on the kitchen worktop and stands beside me; her expression sharpens and her hands shake.
“After you have finished with bathing,” I say and wink at her.
Zane enters the kitchen so I shove her towards the bathroom, peeling off my t-shirt and adding it to her trainers inside the washing machine.
Sive closes the bathroom door behind her, and Zane takes a sip of his beer, then crushes the can and throws it into the bin.
“You remember,” Zane says, “when we were kids, Ma used to read us a story. The one she loved so much but cried each time she read the ending. And then she was pissed off for the whole following day because she hated that ending. It was about a little mermaid who didn’t speak.”
/> I did remember. Ma swore at the prince who didn’t love his mute little mermaid. He married a princess instead, and the mermaid turned into sea foam, which meant that she was dead. I hated that story, but Ma read it to us despite our protests. She wanted to make sensitive men out of us. I guess she didn’t succeed.
“I would take Sive to the cinema,” Zane continues. “I won’t do anything she wouldn’t like.”
“And then what? You will marry her?”
“Maybe I could. One day, ya know, when we get to know each other better. I just want to talk to her, Axel.”
“You never wanted that,” I say with sarcasm, but in fact, his determination makes me stunned. “That cinema stuff and all of that.”
“I can change my mind. Every chick I’ve had so far wasn’t like her. Sive is different. You look at her and you feel she’s unique.”
“Stay away from Sive. I mean it.” Fuck. I will slap him on the back of his head to shake those plans off his mind.
Zane looks at me with the fury darkening his eyes. “You don’t want her.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t want her for more than one fuck.”
“I didn’t say that either.”
We’ve never argued about a chick but again I’ve never wanted the girls my brother fucked and the opposite. Our unwritten code.
Zane is generally nice to girls but none has managed to steal his heart. He’s broken many of females’ hearts though.
Now, he’s acting like something has possessed him. And he’s trying to disobey me.
Zane’s always respected me and never defied me when it comes to important matters. I give the orders and he follows them. It works perfectly between us.
“Pack your clothes, Zane.”
“There is no rush, Axel.”
“Pack your clothes and get lost. Now.”
Zane salutes me, but the anger radiating from him is almost tangible. “Don’t forget that Dad wants to see all of us tonight.”
“I remember, no worries.”
Zane calls Boulder ‘Dad’, but I don’t for one simple reason.
Ma divorced him fifteen years ago because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. She was with another guy for a while and he hit her a few times, hit me and Zane, then almost killed all of us in a car crash that he’d caused driving on drugs. After the accident, Zane moved in with Boulder and I stayed with Ma, helping her in her rehabilitation and easing her depression. Boulder removed that fuck from her life permanently, which meant six feet under and our life stabilised. Sort of. I stayed two more years with Ma until she started to visit Boulder and recovered from her depression. She never moved into his house again but they are good now.
Sive: Shadow Wolves MC Page 2