by Kane Daemon
“Like don’t take shit off anyone?” She climbed on behind me.
“That’s right. People are going to try to push you around. Don’t let them. If it’s a woman bothering you, punch a bitch. If it’s a guy, send his balls up into his stomach with your boot.”
The garage door opened and we pulled out, my headlight off. I pointed toward the highway where the driveway started. “We’ve got company.” I drove around to the back of the house and took the trail leading behind the mountains. The trail eventually dumped back onto the highway a mile down from the house.
Carrie wrapped her arms around my waist, but it did nothing to help my soul that was beginning to darken. Trucker had taken the club down a dark path according to Bain. I hated hearing that shit from another club.
When I looked in my side mirror, I saw exactly what I’d hoped not to see. Sometimes it was better to just pull over and deal with the situation.
“What’re you doing?” Carrie looked back and quickly understood. Three men on bikes pulled in behind us. “Call the police.”
“No,” I said and tightened my gloves. Carrie stepped behind me as the King Slayers approached.
“Where you headed, Zane?” Coffin Joe asked.
“You know where I’m going.”
The three pulled their guns.
“And you know we can’t let you go there.” Coffin Joe leaned to the side to get a look at Carrie. “You brought her on at the wrong time. We can’t let either of you go.”
“So, you’re going to shoot us on the side of the road.”
“Of course not. Bain wants you back at the club.” He nodded at the other two men, and they started toward us.
Going back to the King Slayers meant one of two things. Death being the first. Or having a body part cut off and sent to the Hell’s Justice. I chose neither of the two.
The first man grabbed me, and I quickly redirected his arm as he fired. Two bullets hit the second man, sending him flailing onto the highway. I snapped the first guy’s arm back to the right, the crack of his bone splitting the night. He tried to swing with his other hand but missed wildly. Then I noticed Coffin Joe running back to his bike, Carrie chasing after him. I laid out man number one and then started toward Carrie who had grabbed Coffin Joe by the hair and pulled him off his bike. She landed a right foot between his legs, and he went down hard.
The guy I laid out got up and charged toward us. “For fuck’s sake!” I pulled my Ruger from my waistband and shot him between the eyes. Carrie screamed and jumped back. Coffin Joe stared at the man on the ground.
“You fucking kill me and Bain will have your ass.”
“Who sent the three assholes to my house?” I asked. “The guys who tried to rape her.”
Coffin Joe genuinely looked confused, and that was when I knew the King Slayers had nothing to do with the attack. “You need to let me go. Otherwise, you’re just making this shit worse.”
“Zane,” Carrie said when I raised my gun to his head.
“Shoot me, motherfucker. He’s coming after Hell’s Justice for murdering his wife.”
A man could get either very bold or chicken shit when his life was on the line. I lowered the gun, and Coffin Joe took a deep breath right before he realized he was being punched in the face.
“Tell Bain we didn’t kill his wife, and he’s making a big fucking mistake by coming at us.” I started to walk away but stopped. “Tell the son-of-a-bitch I’m back in the game and looking for the man who killed my wife as well. If the man’s a King Slayer, I’ll personally bring hell down on every bastard in the club. You tell him that.”
Carrie and I returned to the bike and rode away, leaving a mess both clubs would have to clean up.
No backing down. I’d killed two King Slayers. Despite protecting myself and Carrie, Bain would want revenge. The sooner we found out who killed his wife, the sooner we moved past the bullshit.
We arrived at the club warehouse and stopped at the front entrance where cops sat in their cars along the street and club members stood just inside the entrance with automatic rifles. I glanced up at the roof and noticed a member looking at me through the scope of his rifle. Amanda had been right about dragging us away from the club.
“Looks like a small army.” Carrie hugged my waist tighter.
“That’s why the cops are waiting in their cars. They know the King Slayers hate us and know we hate the King Slayers.”
“While I attend church just hang out at the bar. Nobody will fuck with you yet. They’ll want to figure you out first.”
“Did you bring your bible?”
I chuckled. “Church is what they call club meetings where members attend and club business is voted on. Trust me, nobody there is holding a bible.”
“So, like an all-boys meeting? No girls allowed?”
I laughed again. “I’ll be sure to bring that up.”
“Should I bake a cake for the next meeting?” She laughed and kissed me on the cheek.
“You’re going to get me into trouble.”
“No, I think you can do that all on your own with no help from me.”
I nodded and pulled to the gate. “Zane.” Larry Graham lowered his automatic. He recently became a Patch and gave up his old life.
“Looks like shit got real quick.”
“Yeah. Most of the families are already inside. Trucker sent a bunch of Patches and Prospects out to get the rest.” He glanced at the other Patch, a young guy I didn’t recognize. “People are on edge.”
I patted Larry on the shoulder. “Keep your eyes open. The King Slayers don’t give a shit about the law being on the street.” I drove forward and parked next to a row of bikes. “Scared?” I asked Carrie.
She shook her head. “Intrigued. Fascinated. And a little bit horny.”
“When we get inside, just act normal.”
“Really? That’s your best advice?”
The 30,000-square-foot warehouse was divided into five sections. Church, where the club leaders and members met to discuss club business. A bar and food area. A dozen bedrooms. A recreation area, and a garage area where bikes and cars were repaired.
“Snyder,” I said when we approached the bar.
The man glared at me and returned to bartending. A few were still pissed at me for going nomad.
“Who are they?” Carrie watched the group of women in the rec area.
“Trucker’s got the team running pussy all over the area.”
“Running pussy?”
“The club doesn’t make money the old fashion way. Some, like me, have regular jobs, but some members live off the money made by running guns, pussy, and offering protective services.”
“Very admirable.” She grabbed one of the beers Snyder placed on the bar.
I put my arm around Carrie and thought about taking her to one of the bedrooms. “How long they been in church?” I asked Snyder.
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Let’s go.” I grabbed Carrie’s hand and led her through the warehouse. A slight beer buzz worked around in my head. We entered one of the bedrooms, and I closed the door.
“This where I get baptized as your ol’ lady?” She smiled, but I didn’t.
The club did things to a man’s mind. You were no longer your own person. You were part of something bigger, following different rules, acting a different way. You became an asshole, a motherfucker, a person no one wanted to fuck with.
I moved across the room quickly and grabbed Carrie, lifting her off the floor. She wrapped her legs around my waist, knowing she would have to change the way she lived her life, knowing the changes she would have to make. It was no longer civil society we were living in.
Carrie’s mouth met mine, hard and sloppy, the heat between us setting our souls on fire. “Fuck me, Zane. Don’t hold back. I want this.”
She’d opted for short blue jean shorts and a white cami. She looked young and hot and ready to be fucked … hard.
I shoved my hand up the leg of her b
lue jean shorts and found her wet as hell. She moaned, and I slid two fingers inside her, causing her to tighten her arms around the back of my neck. She bounced up and down on my fingers. My cock surged against my pants.
Carried lifted her cami over her head and dropped it to the floor, removing her bra just as quickly. I filled my mouth with her breasts, alternating between the two, delicious and taut. Her hands went between us, freeing my cock as the knock on the door grew louder.
“Fuck!” I let her down and opened the door, hiding her behind me.
A new Patch stood outside the door. “Trucker wants you in church. Now.” I nodded, and he walked away.
“Get dressed and hang out at the bar.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Carrie
I flopped on the bed and tucked my hands beneath my head. I could eat the man up every single night if he'd let me. If the club let me.
“Need anything?”
I jerked the bed comforter over me and stared wild-eyed at the woman standing at the door.
“I've seen young pussy before, sweetheart, there’s no need to be shy.” She closed the door behind her and sat on the end of the bed. “Sadie Lee.”
“Trucker’s wife?”
“In the flesh.”
Trucker had married above himself. Sadie wore no makeup because her natural beauty didn’t warrant it. He breasts were naturally large, her waist small, and her ass plump. Her long legs could hold any man captive.
“How long have you guys been married?”
“Fifteen years. And yeah, I've been a club ol’ lady for fifteen years. You’ll get used to it. Never disrespect Zane in front of anyone, and he’ll take good care of you.”
“What about Amanda?” I gently chewed my bottom lip. I still felt like an Amanda cloud was hanging over my head.
Sadie pursed her lips and picked at the comforter. She didn’t seem bothered by the question. Probably expected to hear it. “You know Amanda was Trucker’s sister?” I nodded. “Amanda hated the club and swore she’d never have a relationship with anyone involved with a club. Then she found Zane on the side of the road.”
“You make it sound like a charity case.”
“Because it was.” Sadie moved toward the headboard and sat next to me. “Zane was in a bad place when she started seeing him. He found out about Trucker and wanted to join the club. She demanded that he not. He did it anyway, and it caused problems.”
“Didn’t Trucker see what was happening?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Club before family, sweetheart. Zane was perfect for the club. A badass. Experienced using a variety of weapons. And he could kick ass. No way Trucker was letting that go.”
“But the longer Zane stayed with Amanda, the more he began to see things her way?”
“And that’s when he asked Trucker about going nomad.” She patted my leg. He’s going to do some stupid shit, and you just have to learn to let it happen. I don’t see him letting another woman run him out of the club. He’s back in for good.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Making sure you know how the fuck to deal with this shit is going to help us all.” She moved from the bed, and I glanced at her ass, her eyes catching me. “That’s another thing, babe. Never tell your man no. You stop giving him pussy or blow jobs and he’ll go find it somewhere else.” She opened the door. “Get dressed and meet me out by the bar. I'll show you around. He’ll be in church for a while.”
As soon as Sadie closed the door, I dressed and used the tiny bathroom that reminded me of the small apartment I left last week. The bathroom was just as small, my life a total bore. The needle had swung in the opposite direction. I needed to accept Amanda would always be part of Zane’s life and now part of mine.
Sadie was standing at the bar talking to Snyder when I left the room.
“You two have met?” Sadie handed me a beer, and I nodded. Snyder returned to busying himself behind the bar. We walked away, taking our beers. “He’ll get over it. It's hard for some people to accept citizens into the club.”
“That’s what I am?”
“In some eyes.” Sadie took a long swallow of beer. She walked me to the rec area where kids played on an indoor playground and adults sat at picnic tables talking.
“Aren’t they afraid club problems will spill over to their kids?” We sat at an empty table, and I took a sip of beer. There were almost twenty children in the play area.
“Clubs keep the violence away from the kids the best they can. In my years with the club, not one child has ever been harmed.” Sadie finished her beer and sent one of the members to get us another. I quickly finished mine, and my head spun.
“How do these people make a living?”
Sadie shrugged. “Most of the patch members are mechanics. None are like Zane. You can thank Amanda for that.”
“Can I ask you something? About Amanda?”
“Sure, honey.”
I couldn’t figure out the exact words to use, so I just threw some out there. “With Amanda consuming his thoughts the way she is, do I even have a chance with Zane?”
“You’ve made it further than anyone else,” she said. “He's never brought another woman here, especially since everyone loved Amanda. The fact you are here says a lot about the way he thinks of you.” She watched me over her beer. “Something’s bothering you. Out with it.”
“Tell me more about the pussy business.”
Sadie laughed, and the kids on the playground stopped and stared. “Go back to playing, you little shits,” she said. “You’re wondering if he’ll hit a piece of that ass while you’re with him?”
“Yeah, I am.” God, I hated where the conversation was heading.
Sadie shrugged. “I can’t promise you what a man will do. Things will screw with his head, and I can’t say at a moment of weakness he won’t make a mistake. Get the right slut in front of a man, and everything he believed in will be out the door. The question is, what will your reaction be if and when it happens?”
“I’d be super pissed.”
Sadie said nothing else about the question. But she did explain the club selling pussy. “None of the girls do anything against their will. They are each here of their own free will. Let’s get that straight up front. Some of them go no further than straight up missionary. Others like to go way out there: anal slut, bondage, girl on girl; they run the spectrum. Some shoot movies. Some strictly have a web presence.”
“Aren’t they afraid of being hurt or worse?”
Sadie pushed her beer away and stared at me. “The club protects them. Guys, and girls, who get pussy from the club know what will happen if they get out of line.” She looked to make sure the kids weren’t paying attention to us. “Last year some rich asshole from Phoenix ordered two girls. We delivered them to a hotel downtown. Two of our best. He got drunk and smacked them around.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah, oh shit. He’s no longer able to have sex. I'll just leave it at that.”
“I don’t know if it’s the beer or all the information making my head spin.”
Sadie finished her second beer and moved the bottled to the side. “Trust me, you have a lot to learn.” She nodded at the group of women sitting at one of the picnic tables. The way they laughed and slurred their speech, they obviously had a good buzz going. “Don’t let anyone push you around. Fucking stand your ground and hit a bitch when you need to.” Sadie stood. “Let me show you where church is held.”
I glanced at the drunk women once more and noticed them watching me. I smiled; they didn’t. Neither did Snyder when we passed by. I had my work cut out for me.
We entered a doorway and walked down a dark hall. Pictures of club members hung on the walls, their birth date and death date below their names.
“Forty-eight,” Sadie said. “All killed while doing club business.” She saw my face change. “Yeah, this shit’s not for the faint of heart.”
We stopped at a door and Sadie slowly
pushed it open. I suddenly had a what the fuck was I doing moment. I glanced back at the pictures.
“You coming?”
Sadie stepped through the doorway and I followed.
“They’re in the room behind those double-doors. Don’t ever go in unless invited and don’t plan on being invited.”
“That’s where Zane is?”
Sadie grabbed two beers from a refrigerator behind a bar and then led me to one of the several couches in the room.
“Is there beer in every room?”
Sadie laughed. “Not in the children's play area.”
I took a drink and then motioned at the closed doors. “They discussing what to do about the King Slayers?”
“Yeah. But I can guarantee nobody at the club ordered a hit on Bain’s ol’ lady. Trucker wouldn’t do that for fear someone would then put a hit on me.” She drank half her bottle and then put it on the table in front of us. The table consisted of two milk crates and a couple of planks.
“Did you ask him if he put the hit out?”
“Darlin’ we need to get something straight right now before you go any further in this club.” She turned and gave me her full attention. “Never question anything the club does and never question the actions of one of the members. It’s best to go with the flow and hope for the best. It’s part of being an ol’ lady.”
“So, it’s a good ol’ boy’s club?”
“For fuck’s sake don’t say that either.” She let out a long breath. “Tell you what, just pay attention to how others act. Study it for a month or so. You’ll get the hang of it. Keep a low profile and your life as an ol’ lady will work out fine.”
“Point taken,” I said.
“Now to other important business. Ever use a gun?”
“My father had a gun in my hands when I was seven. He’d take me to my grandfather’s farm to teach me how to shoot. We did that several times a year until he passed away when I turned twenty-one.” I finished my beer and gave into the buzz, leaning my head back.
“There’s another area I want to show you,” Sadie said.
I followed her through another set of double-doors and then down a long hallway. We stopped at another door and next to the door was a shelf full of headphones.