Blow Out (Steel Veins Book 1)

by Jackson Kane

  That left only Star, who was crawling toward me. Her eyelids heavy, head tilted back, pink tongue parting the slick slivers of her beautiful lips.

  The blonde’s breath was hot on the tip of my dick before she rammed my shaft down her throat with the urgency and tenacity of a junkie desperately trying to impress for their next fix.

  Star kept advancing until she saw the shock of blonde hair rising and falling rapidly in my lap. It was over. The spell was broken. It was like someone pulled the plug on her libido. Star paused, dejected.

  That was her play!

  Star had been trying to seduce me. If she kept me busy tonight, she wouldn’t be at the whim of everyone else who wanted to turn her out. I bet she didn’t know she just used a prison tactic on me.

  Fuck me, this girl was crafty. I smiled for the first time all day.

  My smug revelation was cut short when Star was ripped off the bar by her hair.

  “Hey!” I shot up off the stool, angrily protesting. The blonde gagged at my abruptness, sliding off my cock and falling on her ass to the filthy floor with a resounding comical thump.

  “What? You give a shit about gas station girl after all?” Top shot back, slurring the words and narrowing his eyes. He was solidly plastered. That made him even more short-tempered than usual.

  Star’s plan worked, but on the wrong guy. Top was going to ruin her. Not just because he wanted to fuck, but because of who she was. Anyone could see that he blamed her for Bren’s death, even if only vicariously. He was also making good on the promise he made earlier in front of everyone. When he said something in front of the whole club, come hell or high water, Top delivered.

  He wasn’t the kind of man who made idle threats.

  Yeah, she’d be alive after he was done with her, but who would want to fuck her? Considering the mood Top was in, Star would be wishing for a bullet.

  I sat back down and said nothing, letting him drag her off kicking and screaming.

  It doesn’t matter, I scolded myself. This was just a matter of time. It was better to tear the Band-Aid off now and forget about her.

  Chapter Six

  Remy

  The blonde dusted herself off, glanced around to see if anyone saw her fall, then went back to work on my dick. Junkies gave the worst fucking blowjobs. She was too fast and applied pressure in all the wrong ways. I was frustrated and nowhere close to coming. “It’s a cock, not a goddamn lollipop.”

  She looked wounded and slid her mouth off my wet dick in a pitiful display.

  Watching Star get dragged away to the far wall killed my hard-on.

  After a pause, she started in again with only her hand this time.

  I immediately stopped her and put my shit away. “Forget it. Just get me another beer.”

  Top had torn off the remainder of Star’s shirt. She fought him off the best she could, but that wasn’t saying much. He was enjoying the challenge.

  I forced myself to look away again. She was dead anyway. Who gave a shit? That was just the way things went here. I’d known that girl existed for what, a few hours at most? Hell, I didn’t even know her name until she got up on that bar. Top was my only blood family who was still alive, and this club was all I had. Was I really going to jeopardize all that because of my nagging conscience?

  Any goodness left in me died with Maria. I didn’t give a fuck about anyone, let alone the bitch whose boyfriend killed my younger brother.

  To hell with her.

  “No! Please!” Star’s scream rang out all the way across the room even over the music. It made me reach for my box of smokes. With oddly clumsy fingers, I packed the box and pulled a cigarette out, knowing it would soothe my suddenly racing nerves. Yeah, the nicotine was great, but it was the act of something burning, drawing smoke in and out, that really hooked me. After a few, hurried drags, I was only more on edge. I crumpled the cigarette in my fist, burning cherry tip and all. I wasn’t drunk enough, and I knew weed or coke wasn’t going to cut it.

  I started to make my way out of the bar. I needed some fresh air. If I couldn’t see what was happening to her, then maybe I’d be able to forget about—

  When Star’s screams sharply cut off, I couldn’t help but look.

  Top had his hand over her nose and mouth. She writhed and struggled for air as he tore off her panties and forced them over her face. She gasped for air and kicked wildly, but it was no use. For as drunk as he was, Top had her. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  Are you really going to let this happen? This time it was Bren’s boyish voice in the back of my heart. It wasn’t a judgmental reprimand. Those I could brush off. It was a plea. That made it so much worse.

  I exhaled hard, pinching my eyes shut and hating myself for being so weak as to actually care. I growled at myself, at Bren, and at the whole damn world.

  Fine. Just this once.

  Opening my eyes, I scanned the bar. The drunkest motherfucker around was Black Nicky, a big Scottish guy with a neatly trimmed chinstrap beard. He was our sergeant at arms. The bastard kept us all in line. Mostly.

  He’d do.

  Black Nicky was passed out at the bar. I snatched the beer out of the blonde’s hand as she made her way back to me and bee-lined for the drunken Scot. I took a big sip, put the beer on the bar, and shook him awake. “Nicky! Black Nicky! Wake the fuck up!”

  “Imup imup... I am awake!” he snorted, quickly falling back asleep.

  “Did you hear what they just said?” I asked.

  Nicky’s eyes opened really wide, then started drooping again.

  I was losing him, so I stood him up and continued, “Fuck you, you motherfucker!” I exclaimed loudly to no one in particular as I threw an arm around the drunk Scot. Then, quieter, I turned back to Nicky. “They said that you used to fuck sheep back in the old country. You’re not a sheep fucker, are you, Nicky?”

  Nicky’s eyes opened wide again, this time staying open. His haze lifted as he flew into a blind rage, looking for someone to hit. “That was one time!” he roared.

  I pointed him toward a few of guys directly across from us.

  The bewildered bikers regarded him with confusion, then with terror as Nicky launched himself at them. Black Nicky was a big motherfucker and easily took three of them to the ground.

  Tee jumped in to tear Nicky off but was being thrown around like he was riding a mechanical bull. I tossed my beer on Old Man Gunny who was face-deep in a girl half his age. He turned, thinking Tee had done it, and laid him out with a brutal punch. Tee didn’t deserve that, but I needed Nicky to tear it up for a while longer.

  I’d buy all Tee’s rounds tomorrow night.

  Gunny jumped in, and the bar fight spread like a grease fire. I had to duck a chair thrown by Twatch, who somehow lost her pants in all this. Not the first time she was bare-assed in a bar fight and certainly wouldn’t be the last. Her husband, Twitch, was a lightweight and had passed out an hour ago as always.

  It was pure pandemonium. Guys were throwing punches just to hit something. They were still pissed off about what happened to Bren and desperately needed to blow off steam. Sex and drugs weren’t going to cut it for the Steel Veins. We needed violence too.

  They were a powder-keg ready to blow. I just supplied the match.

  It wasn’t enough. One hand on her throat, Top was too enthralled with Star to notice or care about anything else. He watched her wiggle desperately while his other hand slid down her stomach to the hem of her skirt.

  Damn. Looked like I’m going to need a sacrificial lamb.

  I pulled aside one of the terrified employees. Stockier than the rest of the other girls, the redhead was the shift leader and was more or less just a bartender. “What’s your name?” I asked, going through the motions.

  “Britney.”

  “Pretty wild, huh, Britney?” I nodded in feigned disbelief.

  “Oh my God, yes! This is crazy!” Britney was terrified.

  I could tell that she’d never seen any fights like this befor
e. She was still new to that position. I didn’t remember seeing her last time we were here. That wasn’t surprising; Muse had a high turnover rate for her employees.

  Bren was far from the only person buried out behind the parking lot.

  “Not much you can do, Britney. Sure as hell can’t call the cops, and Muse is asleep by now. If you wake her up because you can’t handle what’s going on, you’ll probably become one of the regular employees.” I let the implications soak into her.

  “Fuck! Jesus!” Britney arched her drawn-on eyebrows and gasped. “What do we do?”

  “You see that big guy over there?” I pointed. “His name’s Top. He’s the chapter president and is your best bet at stopping this before they destroy the place.”

  “I–I don’t know.” She was on the verge of breaking down.

  I pulled her down as a half-full mug sailed over our heads and smashed into the top shelf of liqueur behind the bar. Glass and expensive booze sprayed out in a wide arc, coating everything.

  Britney screamed.

  “You’re in charge, Britney.” I took her by the shoulders. “Be in charge. You can do this.”

  Britney’s worry was apparent, but her desire not to end up like the rest of the girls was strong enough to push through. She swallowed, nodded to me, and left to talk with Top. Plead with, more likely.

  “You!” I called out to the other startled bartender, a brunette who was cowering on the floor covered in liquor and broken glass. I remembered her from one of our previous trips here. She wasn’t as rattled as Britney but was just trying to keep her head down and wait for this to blow over. “Get me an extra work shirt. I need a pair of pants too.” I sized up the girl. She had a slight enough built for what I had in mind. “Something in your size.”

  The brunette bartender hurried off, slipping out the side door into the hotel proper.

  Britney was having trouble getting Top to even acknowledge her. He’d been drinking for a while and was too riled up to notice the timid bartender. She wouldn’t be able to do it.

  I snatched up a nearby glass and hurled it against the wall just above Top’s head.

  Britney screamed and dropped to the floor. Top scanned the room but couldn’t place the thrower.

  I grabbed another mug and was filling it at one of the taps across the bar, innocently watching the chaos unfold.

  Finally, pants around his ankles and cock at full attention, Top looked around and realized how badly everything went to hell. He looked murderously angry, but he had an obligation to all of us and to Muse. This brawl had gone too far, and he needed it ended now. It would take him a little while to de-fuck the place. He let Star go, pulled up his pants, and waded into the middle of the fight. Now bikers were the ones flying through the air.

  Gasping for air from the strangling and still shaking from the attempted rape, Star took advantage of the distraction and rolled off the table she’d been forced on to.

  The brunette had returned a minute later with two handfuls of clothing.

  I skirted around the outside of the brawl and brought them to Star who was a sobbing mess.

  Even bitter defiance had its limits.

  I’d killed, blackmailed, threatened, maimed, but rape… I gritted my teeth.

  Rape was just too far.

  Disgust and guilt gripped me when I looked down at the wreck Star had become. Lying there naked, she looked so fragile. The harsh, flickering, neon-blue Budweiser sign on the window next to Star dulled all the new bruises and gave her skin a waxy, sickly look. She looked like she’d just come off a mortuary slab.

  “Put these on.” I tossed her the clothes.

  Betrayed, she looked up at me through watery eyes, dripping with skepticism.

  I tried to keep the growing pangs of remorse and empathy from my face. “Hate me later.” I turned my back to let her get dressed. Not for privacy—it was far too late for that, but at least without one more person looking at her. “You don’t want to be here when he comes back.”

  Regardless of how she felt about me, that point hit home, and Star dressed as quickly as she could.

  Fewer bodies flew now as Top bellowed commands. The bar’s chaos was winding down, and soon Top would quell the riot.

  We couldn’t wait any longer. Time was up when I could see Top look around. Star needed to be a ghost. Now! I picked up her glasses, which was becoming a habit I wasn’t thrilled with; then I grabbed her by her shirt and led her out of the bar.

  When we were safely through the breezeway that divided the bar from the hotel, I handed her glasses back and placed a room key in her hand. She’d be relatively safe if she hid in my room for the night, at least. “Room 203,” I said before turning back to the bar.

  “Why are you helping me?” Star warbled in air and choked on it. She was on the brink of really losing her shit.

  I couldn’t answer. Honestly, I didn’t know why I was helping her either. Not really. I had no illusions about being some bullshit hero.

  “I don’t understand you! You save me just to watch me suffer? Do you get off on my pain? Is that it, you sadistic fuck?” Star scolded me with hushed tones, obviously worried about drawing any more attention.

  I still couldn’t face her.

  When she shoved me, I whirled around and grabbed her, squeezing her arms to stop her from throwing punches at me.

  “Please just tell me if I can trust you. I need this! Please, just tell me. I can’t handle any more of this....” She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

  The hallway we were in was dark, and rain had started to fall against the windows. Gentle crashes of a distant storm echoed across the empty plains. Our world inside this hallway was still. If I had something to say, this was the perfect time to say it. “This world is fucked, fast, and rough. I am cancer. I am death’s handshake. In my wake, I leave only ruin,” I softly growled at her. “No, you can’t trust me.”

  Her face started to fall, but I was able to turn away in time to be spared most of it. She was right to hate me. To fear me. The further from me she was, the better off she’d probably be, even if that meant dead.

  I walked back into the bar.

  Chapter Seven

  Remy

  Top had the brawl mostly wrapped up now. I helped him pull the last of the thrashing drunks off each other. He yelled for a bit, but he understood why all this went down. The grieving process was as fucked and stupid as we were. I helped clean off the bar and had the mortified bartenders slide everyone who was still standing another round.

  There was so much blood, beer, and debris that it looked more like a war zone than a bar.

  “I’m not looking forward to explainin’ this to Muse. I’ll wake up with my balls on her shelf.” Top chuckled.

  “Heh, yeah. Hell of a night,” Skank piped up. “Just give those big, black tits of hers a good motorboatin’, and she’ll forgive you.”

  “Before or after the entirety of the gas station score?” I offered, masking the repulsion I felt about this evening.

  Everyone laughed.

  For the rest of the night, every time Top would look around for Star, I reeled him back in with a story, question, or joke, all the while feeding him shots. After a while, no one was sober. Top was asleep on the bar, and the ones who could walk had stumbled off to their rooms. We all had hell to pay for the destruction, but that was tomorrow’s problem.

  For now, my goal was to get as obliterated as possible and forget everything about this shitty day.

  The night had wound down, and I was still horny as fuck from Star’s bar dance. I was about to find a backroom and rub one out when I spotted the junkie blonde from earlier staring off at nothing in a booth. I thought she was using her phone but was way past the point of concentration. She’d disappeared a while ago to the shooting gallery and came back on a wicked nod.

  Fucking junkies.

  I grabbed a fistful of condoms someone had thrown onto the bar and walked the blonde into the hotel I was pretty sloppy
-drunk and couldn’t remember what the fuck happened to my keys. She told me her room number, and we went there instead. For some reason her key wouldn’t unlock it, so I put my shoulder into it. We crashed through her door and into the dark, hallway-lit room, undressing before we hit the ground.

  She plastered me with clumsy, drunken kisses that I tolerated to a point. I didn’t bother sliding her panties off, just flicked them to the side and unceremoniously rammed my middle two fingers into her.

  We weren’t making love. This was just ugly, necessary sex.

  “Unh,” she grunted. Her pussy was warm and slick enough. With ease, I slid in a third and curled my digits. She moaned now, still too softly. I wanted this girl to scream. I needed it. A fourth finger squeezed in, making her grunt.

  “Fuck!” Now for the first time since we started, her eyes fully opened. Her arms slipped impotently behind her, mashing roughly against the wall as she struggled to prop herself up.

  My fingers stretched her sidewalls further apart and slithered back and forth in a beckoning motion. My thing wasn’t violence for the sake of violence like some of the other guys, or drugs, for that matter. I didn’t do yoga or talk about my feelings. I wasn’t a child at heart, and I’ve never held a stress ball. Hell, I wasn’t even much of a drinker, tonight excluded for obvious reasons.

  The blonde gave me a full scream, the first of many.

  This was it. My cock hardened at the sound of her voice hitting a higher pitch. This was how I grieved.

  The blonde’s ass slapped down onto the TV-mounted cabinet, my fingers still inside her. I felt her pulse and tense as her scream vibrated through her pussy. It was loud enough to wake the neighbors. That wasn’t good enough. I was in a ruinous mood and needed more.

  When she stammered for more, I pulled out completely. I wiped my hand off on her stomach and just stood there until she begged.

  “Please, please, please!” The blonde crumbled forward on top of me. I pulled back farther, and she followed. I hit the bed and let it swallow me up. Something large shifted off the mattress and fell. I didn’t have the time to check what it was before the blonde landed on me. “Not a lollipop....”