Justice

by Gillian Zane

  “Wait, maybe a little more. Clara is a spoiled, user of a human being. She’s used to getting her way. When she doesn’t, she strikes out. She’ll do and say anything to get what she wants. I can’t stand her, but I don’t think her actions are deserving of death. I don’t want her anywhere near me, but dead is dead. And frankly, taking her life is not worth scarring the soldier who has to shoot her.”

  Lex sat back down and did a one finger tap off her forehead in Clara’s direction who was staring at her in open contempt. She held two fingers out to indicate this was the second time she’s saved Clara’s life. I’ve got to give it to Lex, she had a way with cutting right to the chase.

  “Is there anyone else that will speak for Clara?” Poche asked the crowd.

  “I will.” A woman from the back stood. She was too skinny and her hair hung in limp locks down her back. There was once beauty there, but a broken look had taken root. What was once a pretty girl was now hidden by dark circles under her eyes and sallow skin.

  “I can’t say anything about what Clara did before she came here. I can’t even say that Clara is a nice person. She kept to herself. I do know she was regularly chosen by Spider. So was I. I wouldn’t wish Spider on my enemy. He’s the worst of the worst. If you can think of something depraved or sadistic, Spider liked it. I told myself when I heard about Clara that I would at least stand up and tell you this. She has paid for her crimes, like I have paid for mine.” She sat down abruptly and the room fell deathly quiet.

  “Anyone else?” Poche asked after a moment. No one volunteered. The only thing that broke the silence was the sound of boots on linoleum. I turned in my seat and saw Zach leaving the room.

  “Thank you for your testimony. We’ll adjourn and have a verdict soon.” Poche and the rest of the judges walked out to decide Clara’s guilt or innocence.

  We waited for what felt like hours in tense silence. The only thing that marred the quiet was the sound of Clara’s subdued sobbing. I was there to support Lex, but all I could think about was Rebel. Who would speak for him? Would there be girls that stood up and spoke of depravity and sadism? That would kill me. That would kill him, what was I talking about?

  I heard the creak of a door and the judges filed in. Romeo looked grimmer than ever, if that was possible. Grace was crying. Ryan and Poche were stoic and they remained standing as they looked at Clara. The accused.

  “Clara Clark Miller, you’ve been accused of attempted murder and endangering your compound. We find you guilty.”

  The wail that came from her mouth was ear splitting and I tried not to feel for her, but it was impossible. She was a heinous bitch, but I would be evil myself if I took glee in this.

  “Your crimes have earned you exile. You’ll receive one knife, one change of clothes and three days’ worth of food. You are not allowed in Lakeview, or anywhere near the compound in New Orleans East. If you are spotted near these locations, you will face the penalty of death. Your sentence will be enacted immediately. Graf, please get her a walking pack and escort her to the 17th Street canal bridge.”

  Clara sobbed. Exile. This changed everything.

  FIFTY-SIX | Hours to Days

  The hours bled into each other, hours to minutes, minutes to hours, hours to maybe days. Everything spun and twisted together. No one came to visit me, no one came to talk. The only interaction I had was when I was taken to the bathroom twice a day and when I was brought my meals. I didn’t even know how long it had been. One day, two days? A week? I hadn’t been paying attention. I laid on my cot and stared at the ceiling.

  I shouldn’t have come back. I should have stayed in that tiny apartment. With her.

  Deep down I thought my actions would get me some kind of special consideration. I had told them where some of the men were hiding, which would most likely result in their death. I had killed my brothers, men I had grown up around, to prove myself to a group that had deemed themselves righteous. For a girl that hadn’t looked back.

  Someone knocked on the door. I ignored it. It’s not like I had a choice.

  FIFTY-SEVEN | Empty Promises

  Alexis was a pain in my ass. She wouldn’t leave me alone. She wouldn’t let me go and hide. She also wouldn’t let me anywhere near the vodka.

  “We drank it all,” she said as I glared at her.

  “You’re lying,” I scoffed.

  “If anyone deserves vodka, it’s me,” she said in her haughty annoying voice.

  “You did get your boyfriend’s ex exiled, yeah, you deserve it.” I stumbled over the alliteration and she scrunched her nose. “You should be celebrating. Go get the vodka. Let’s celebrate.”

  “When did you become a lush?”

  “Regret is a bitch,” I sighed.

  “That’s deep,” she scoffed and threw herself on the cot next to mine.

  “Don’t you have something to do? Aren’t you supposed to be one of the leaders or something?” I said annoyed at her interruption of my pity party.

  “My mad leadership skills aren’t really recognized by this bunch of misogynists. I’m okay with that, they have too many meetings. That’s why I’m here. Zach and Blake are up there meeting with Poche and Tammi again. I just want to go home,” she sighed.

  “You and me both,” I yawned.

  “So, there’s a reason I’m here.” She sat up on the cot and looked at me.

  “Oh, I thought you were here to annoy me,” I teased. She threw a pillow at me.

  “No, contrary to your antisocial ways, I’m actually here to do you a solid.”

  “Does it include vodka?”

  “I don’t like lush Baby,” she pouted.

  “Whatever, okay, spit it out. What are you doing for me?”

  “You know we have another trial in a couple of hours?”

  “Yeah, who’s up on the chopping block?”

  “The leader, Junior, it’s going to be a circus.”

  “You gotta go to this one?” I asked, thinking about yesterday’s craziness.

  “No, well, yeah. I could say something, but I have a feeling my interactions with Junior are nothing compared to what he did to other people. My testimony isn’t going to be needed.”

  “That’s gonna be a horror show,” I shivered.

  “It is. They also want to let some of the bikers get the chance to speak for him.” She looked at me intensely.

  “None of them will speak for him, unless it’s positive.”

  “Positive, negative, we have to give them the chance to speak. Three have agreed to speak, we don’t know what they will say. They want Rebel to speak, but he won’t even talk to anyone.”

  “I guess he’s tired of being used,” I said without thinking.

  “Is that what you think?”

  “What else would you call it? He risked his life, sold out a group of men he’s known since he was a kid, taught these fools how to get electricity up and running and then they have him locked in a box, waiting to be killed.”

  “I don’t think they’ll kill him,” Lex said, but I could sense the doubt in her voice. There was no way to tell. Blake and Zach could be set on keeping him alive, but Ryan and Poche might be out for blood. And who knows how the civilians will vote. Who knows what people will say during the trial. Maybe he had participated in some of the behavior that was getting these bikers a guilty verdict. I didn’t think so, but you never know.

  “Then they’ll exile him. Either way, it’s a death sentence. Wonder if Clara is still kicking?” Lex flinched and I regretted my words. The bitch deserved her fate, but it was still a life. We were still killing people. Living, breathing people. People who weren’t fighting back. This was nasty shit. Was it justice? At this point I couldn’t tell. We might call it exile, but it was delaying the inevitable. Clara didn’t have the life-skills to survive in this world. We should have put a bullet in her head, it would have been more humane.

  “At least with exile they have a fighting chance. They exiled the guy this morning.”

&nb
sp; “What were his crimes?”

  “The only people that spoke for him were civilian men. He liked to use his fists for emphasis. He was one of the lookouts, so he was never at the base and doesn’t seem to be one of the addicts. You should hear the stories upstairs, half of the men are in withdrawal. Isaiah is giving them low doses of meth to keep them from going into shock.”

  “Nasty shit,” I cursed.

  “The trial starts in two hours, can you get Rebel?”

  “So you want me to talk him into speaking for Junior?”

  “Yes, you have two hours,” she smiled. She thought she was doing me a favor. I had to talk this man into sitting through a trial, one he’ll be forced to take center-stage on tomorrow. I have to ask him to speak for a man he grew up with, to give testimony that would probably aid in ending the man’s life.

  “I can’t make any promises,” I said curtly.

  “I know you can’t, Baby, if you only sit there for two hours with him, at least you tried. C’mon.” She stood and held out her hand. “You might want to change though, that outfit is rank.”

  FIFTY-EIGHT | Sent in the Big Guns

  I couldn’t stew anymore, so I had taken to sporadically jumping up and doing fifty push-ups. It wasn’t making the time any more bearable but at least I wasn’t drowning in self-pity.

  The door handle jiggled and I shot up. If it was Poche’s lackey, Graf, again, I was going to go off on him. He was one of the soldiers from the National Guard and he was acting as Poche’s personal assistant or something. He had been in here three times on the premise of delivering my food, but he had ulterior motives. I was seriously done with this racket. He wanted me to sit through Junior’s trial, thought it would be helpful if I spoke up about Junior’s leadership. You know, from a person like me, it will hit harder. Quicker to kill him off.

  Let the traitor dig his hole deeper and really put the nail in his brother’s coffin was more like it.

  I should have stayed in that apartment. I thought I was being altruistic or something like that. I thought I needed this. I thought I needed these people. I thought she’d never respect me if we ran…

  “Rebel,” her voice cut through me like a knife. I turned around and she stood there, in the doorway. The scent of lavender was in the air as if she had cleaned up before she came here. Her hair was loose and long down her back, something she had only done once in my presence. She was in a pair of black cargo pants and a tight tan tank under a leather jacket. She looked amazing.

  “They’ve sent in the big guns,” I said under my breath and her quiet regard confirmed she had been sent to bring me to the trial.

  “I didn’t make any promises. I’m just here, I’m here to talk.” She closed the door and approached me.

  Talk. Sure.

  I was suddenly angry. I was pissed at the entire situation. At my choices, at what could have happened.

  “What do you want to talk about, Baby?” I walked forward, making her step back. The office was small so she was up against the wall two steps later. I caged her in with my arms. I looked down at her and tried to be mad, but I couldn’t.

  She looked up at me defiantly. I had a foot on her, but she stared me down. This tiny thing had more fire in her than anyone I had ever met.

  “How stupid you are,” she shot back.

  “Is that right?” I stepped back and pushed the hot flare of anger down.

  “We could have fucking left,” she hissed. “But you had to come back to this. I don’t fucking get it.”

  “Being on my own is a death sentence,” I said.

  “I would have stayed with you,” she said quietly.

  “For how long? And could you have lived with yourself? Abandoning your friends? For what, me? Some washed up low-life who didn’t have the balls to stand up for what was right?”

  “Is that what you think of yourself?” she asked, pity in her eyes. I didn’t want her to pity me. That look in her eyes ripped me apart, made me feel even more of a low-life.

  “I know where I stand, and you shouldn’t be here.”

  “I want to be here,” she said.

  “Why, you want more of this?” I moved quickly, caging her in again. It was a jerk move, but I pressed myself up against her. I might as well embrace my low-life status. She didn’t push me away, instead her small hands pressed against my chest and she looked up at me with those damn blue eyes.

  “It’s what I’m really good at.” I whispered and I took her mouth, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth and nibbling on it.

  She moaned against my lips and my consciousness narrowed to that moment. I was starved for her. I wanted every part of her. I needed to touch and taste, but most of all I needed to be inside of her. She pulled at me and I pushed back. I yanked her jacket off her shoulders and threw it on the floor.

  She kicked out; the thump of her boots on the floor a wonderful sound. I pulled her tank up, she was braless.

  Lucky for me, my little cell had wall to wall glass windows on the back wall. I could see clearly with the light that came through- her body, her skin, the flush of her excitement. She was perfection. She was always perfection. Her nipples were hard and erect. I sucked one into my mouth and she arched against me as her hands went to my hair.

  She squirmed, kicking off her pants until she was completely nude and under my control. I hadn’t removed a stitch of clothing. I unbuckled my pants and released my cock. I was hard and ready. I pulled her to me and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I found her wet and ready center and I slid inside. Perfection. She took every inch of me and moaned my name as I seated myself in her core.

  “Reid,” she sighed as I began to pump into her. I kept her braced against the wall and with each thrust I drew a small moan from her. Holding her up and keeping a steady pace wasn’t easy, but I tried my damnedest. When she came, she came hard but quietly. She shook in my arms and I continued to thrust as she held on.

  I had never felt so alive.

  FIFTY-NINE | Typical Male

  A second orgasm ripped through me and I would have sold my soul to keep this man around for more. He thought he was punishing me, he thought this was about teaching me a lesson. I would take this lesson any day.

  He let me drop and I slid down the wall. I wanted him back inside me. I had never wanted anything more. Until he kissed me again. Then all I wanted was the kiss. I was caught in the moment. Focused down to one moment as time slowed and everything blurred out of existence. There was just him. Only him. He kissed me with such assertiveness, such hunger, I was unsteady on my feet when he finally let go.

  “On the cot,” he said gruffly and I shuffled over to the cot. I was about to lay down on my back when he barked out, “No.” He pushed me down on my hands and knees.

  Oh fuck.

  He gripped my hips and slammed into me without prejudice. I saw stars and my body exploded in warmth. There was some weird keening sound coming out of my mouth. I tried to stop, but I couldn’t help it. My focus was completely skewed. I didn’t know what was up and what was down. All I knew was Reid had me, I was his and I didn’t want this to end.

  It lasted for what seemed like hours, but ended in mere minutes. Too soon, the pleasure erupted and I froze, my orgasm so intense my vision blacked out. It pushed him over the edge and he came hard, holding onto my hips as he emptied inside of me.

  He withdrew and I whined. I didn’t want it to end. I heard him kick off his pants and he fell on the cot next to me. His chest rose and fell fast as he cooled down. I wrapped around his side, sad to see his beautiful cock not erect and ready. I gave him a few minutes of silence. His breathing became steady as his heart rate lowered and his body chilled in the unheated room.