by Shan R. K
“Why.” Storm is the one to ask.
I pull my hair over my neck, eyes on the orange floral blanket, “The owner promised me a hot meal if I spoke with him after they closed.”
Both of them say nothing and my vision involuntarily rises to the scary bikers. Zero has a death glare and Storm’s eyes are clouded in something that's making me wish I ran the other way.
Shit, I don't think they wanna be hearing about me. They wanna know about that sweet girl.
“Falon walked further away,” I rush out, “I didn't hear her fo..”
“Hold the fuck on a minute.” My hands start shaking in my lap at the cold tone of Zero's order.
“You just agreed to meet this fucker.” Storm says in a bare whisper like he can't believe it.
My skin flames red in anger, “He promised me a hot meal, I never had a hot meal.” I shoot back in my defense.
They both quieten.
And my small anger evaporates, “So you wanna know what happen to your girl or not. I don't want Storm falling off his bike while I'm on the back.” I don't look at them, I refuse to see their pity and sad faces when they don't know shit. They think they do, but they don't.
“Tell me.” With those two words I don't even know who spoke it. I begin and I don't disappoint and they don't interrupt.
I tell them what they want to know, and I don't stop until both men that harmed their sweet Falon is on the floor, dead.
The two bikers don't ask any questions after that.
They don't say a thing.
Both quiet.
My throat pains from all that talking. I don't look up to see their faces. I don't wanna know what they're thinking. Instead I keep my face blank and pretend I don't exist.
When they both leave the room and the lock on the door clicks, I let out a huff, and allow that cold feeling to seep through me for just a moment, the feeling I had accustomed myself to over the years. The feeling one gets after taking a life.
My eyes droop and I fall asleep, snuggled under the covers.
A warm bed to rest on for the first time in years.
Chapter 6
Zero
IT'S CLOSING ON MIDNIGHT when we finally get to the clubhouse. The iron rooted gates open and all the brothers file in, stopping in their spaces. I'm last to get in, Falon nice and snug to my back.
I park my V-Rod next to Killer’s red Dyna just as the man jogs down the porch steps.
The cold creeps in on my back when Falon gets off and rushes past Killer without a word. Most probably to go lay down.
Her stomach has been cramping since the morning. And my guilt of not being able to help her has played on my mind since we got on my bike this morning.
I tried talking to my woman before we left the Inn and again when we stopped for gas but she shut me out. I didn't understand it. My first thought was maybe someone said something about my trip with a certain girl last night. But I know my family.
Still didn't explain why she barely spoke ten words to me in the past sixteen hours.
“What took you motherfuckers so long.” Killer hits my back and moves on to the others.
I give him no response, he's aware of the situation. Killer is the fastest thinker among all of us. Rounder thinks he's just a soldier but the brother is much more than that.
We don't like keeping shit from our president but since we found out Rounder has cancer, the brothers and I agreed that we needed someone protecting the man.
Killer was the choice we voted on and he lives up to his name. I'm not sure why he became a Satan Sniper. But he is, and he's a damn good brother. Which was why I called him first after we got all the details of what happened with Falon.
I pull Falon’s bag out from my bike and trek to the face brick four storey farm house we use as our clubhouse and home. Compliments of the government.
It was a small passing gift they gave us two years ago. But we took it for what it truly was, they were letting us know that they knew where we stayed. Like giving us their blessing but informing us that they still own most of us. We took it obviously, we never turn shit down from our bosses if we want peace and they were wise not to bug it.
The land is fifty acres of utter bliss with a lake, forest and space. Lots of space. The high steel enforced, brick camouflaged walls were one of the many changes we added ourselves. For security purposes of course.
“I thought you said small.” I catch the easily recognizable voice a few meters away.
I turn around to see her, my foot on the second step of the polished porch. One hand in my back pocket, the other holding Falon’s bag.
She’s in deep conversation with Storm and Killer and got that fucking jacket on again, hiding her face under the hood.
I still can't drop my eyes, hoody or not.
The sight of her naked under that fucking t-shirt and the feel of her thighs under my fingers are too fresh not to remember, too present to look away.
The girl is dangerous and she doesn't even have a clue.
And for the first time since I met her, I'm wondering what the fuck I'm doing.
She's a homeless twenty one year old. Way too young for me and even more fucked up than I presumed.
After she told me what happened with Falon, I wished I knew sooner.
I should've made her tell me before I decided to get her on the back of my bike. Before I broke so many laws giving her my cut when I had my president’s daughter, the woman I intend to claim as mine, wounded in a bed after almost getting raped.
I used the situation as an excuse to talk to the homeless girl, find out her name. I was the one who hunted her down when Storm was right, I should have been with Falon coaxing it out of her. There's no way I'm going to screw things up with Falon for some homeless girl I met in an alley with a gun in her hand.
The Enforcer in me wanted to kill those men again, more painfully. Storm agreed, when I voiced this, “Those fuckers died too easily.”
I had no words for the girl with the broken voice after all she had confessed.
She sure as shit didn’t have anything else to say either.
Storm and I both watched her this morning, waiting for her to look at us after she had finished filling in the blanks about what happened at Lazer’s. I wanted her to notice that I was there for her when the other shoe dropped.
It didn't.
Both of us stood still thinking similar thoughts, maybe she'll scream, or cry, rant or rave, something to release that hollowness that plagued a person after they took a life.
She didn't, nothing happened. Something switched off in her, she became so still and frozen, hoping we'll forget she was in the room, forget that she killed those guys and admitted it without a hitch in her tone.
I'm glad I saw it sooner than later. It only concreted my decision that I won't let this girl come between Falon and me.
My feet move to the clubhouse doors, the smell of disinfectant hits my nose and I'm glad to be home.
The sixteen seater set of Red custom made leather couches greet me silently as I pass them turning the corner and going toward the bar. We bought the couches last year when the last set was infested with ants. In fact we refurbished the whole clubhouse after that diabolical event.
I ignore the loud calls and laughs happening outside and decide to go through the empty hall space straight to the stairs that lead to the bedrooms instead.
Spotting Snake sitting on the feeding counter in front of the liquor cabinet, I do however make a u-turn, “Yo slither.”
The side of his face with the small snakes tattooed on it lifts up into a devils grin, “Yo, I started thinking you guys stopped in Houston.” He lifts his head up from the piles of paper work he’s doing.
I shrug and drop Falon’s bag on the floor, “We had to stop more than intended brother. Falon wasn't doing too good.”
He frowns, and nods in understanding, “Saw her run by, might wanna let Prez know his girl’s back, he was up the whole night, Killer had to knock his
ass out.” Cringing at the same time I grimace he gestures to the closed door opposite the staircase.
“Gotta see to Falon first man.” Is all I say before I'm walking in the opposite direction and up the carpeted stairs.
When I get to Falon's room, I brace myself before I open the door. I expect to see her laying down, or throwing up.
I'm beyond shocked, when I see her small frame spread eagle on the four poster bed, naked.
Her white sheets crinkled.
Two dainty fingers lodged in her pussy, finger fucking her cunt. I can see her arousal from the door way. Wet and glistening. Her eyes hooded with a need I've come to know as she looks at me.
My cock stirs, and all my thoughts take a backseat.
“Add another finger, you know my cocks much bigger baby.”
I close the door at the same time she puts a third finger inside her wetness.
My steps bring me closer to her and my cock gets harder at wanting to play.
It's an hour later, we in the shower, two condoms less that I realize I'm not satisfied. I need more, I want more.
So when Falon moves to get out of the shower, I grab her by the hips and hoist her up on to the wet shower walls. My tongue grazing hers and I close my eyes, giving her nothing too deep.
I grind my cock against her pussy and she eagerly responds.
I drop her gently on her feet and tug her hair down with my left hand, careful to keep my back against the shower streams.
“Get on your knees.” I bite out. She goes happily and takes me into her mouth, just how I like, paying close attention to the tip.
I've never fucked Falon raw or any woman for that matter. I use my own condoms, no pulling out, or taking pills. I wrap it or leave it.
I don't want any kids popping up and getting trapped into a marriage I don't want. Or my kid growing up a bastard.
My parents got married because my mama fell pregnant with my blood brother, Thorn. They despised each other right up till dad fucked Tonia, a prospect of The Satan Snipers at the time, now a booker for the Houston Chapter. She fell pregnant with twins. He ditched my mama so fast. Took Thorn and me with him.
He didn't marry Tonia and lucky he didn't, she miscarried at four months.
My mama didn't take the news well but didn't fight for us either. She was glad to be rid of us, in fact she seemed relieved. Didn't want no weekends, nothing.
I haven't seen her in sixteen years and neither has Thorn.
My dad is a great father, doesn't mean I want to repeat his shit. So until I marry Falon, I'm not taking any chances. I know she wants to take that step, but I can't.
It's something I have never been willing to risk for any woman. Even now with Fallon's hot mouth sucking me down her throat and my eyes rolled back I will never make that mistake.
Chapter 7
Beggar
WE'VE BEEN AT THE CLUBHOUSE for an hour. Bull, Knight and Venus have since moved to the kitchen for half that time, preparing food. Chadley, Storm, Spade and Texas are setting the twenty four seater black wood dining table I'm currently sitting on.
Where are the others, I'm not sure. I'm just glad we got here, finally.
I haven't met the president yet, but Storm was kind enough to introduce me to the others.
I'm good with names so I caught on quickly which earned me some points from the guys.
The girls seem harder to crack, they haven't uttered much to me since we met.
I think it's because of Wisp, I'm hoping they'll change their minds. I wasn't talking smack when I said I don't want any problems. What I'm hoping these biker girls would figure out soon is, I don't want a man more.
“Yo girly girl, you want steak or sausage.” My head snaps up to see who's talking and to who, it's Knight and he’s talking to me.
I pull my hoody down. Knowing it's rude to keep it on any longer, I ask, “Which ones tastier.”
He stares at me, not saying anything for a moment, then snaps out of whatever's got him stuck, “Steak it is.”
Killer, the guy that I met earlier who doesn’t match the others, he is just too refined, comes from behind the corner which is the lounge area and hits Knight on the back. He does that to a lot of the guys.
“Don’t be greedy asshole give the girl both.” He gives me a bright smile that I'm sure has gotten many women naked in the past wondering what the hell did they just do.
But those blue eyes and light brown hair doesn't fool me, I've lived in danger, breathed it, I know a devil when I see one.
“You doing okay there new girl.”
“Ask me that after I get that steak.” Knight smiles and Killer gives me a strange look, before shaking his head, “Will do.”
Knight goes back into the kitchen area that is closed by two double doors at the same time Venus comes through, a tray in her hand filled with at least three dozen rolls.
Her face is flushed and her purple eyes are red from lack of sleep, but she's still a beauty. Her light brown hair now tied up in a messy bun is almost as long as mine. She's everything a girl like me would never be.
“Help yourself, the margarine is there,” Even her voice is soft and sweet.
“Thanks Venus.” I almost flinch at how I must stick out like a sore thumb, more so with my fucked up voice but stop myself when she gives me a genuine bright smile.
I take the roll and stick it in my mouth. Killer sits directly opposite me mimicking my actions.
My brow arches in confusion, he does the same. My mouth moves slowly, chewing the roll when I really want to shove it down quickly and get another. He moans but still mirrors my actions until I swallow.
“So. My boy Storm tells me you got a thing about people knowing your name, you got something to hide girl.”
I’m stunned, and my heart begins to pick up speed.
Just a second ago he was sitting there, copying my actions like it’s the easiest thing to do.
Now he’s all serious, except he makes it so cool.
Who the fuck is this guy?
For the first time since Killer sat down I look around. All the others are gone, leaving the two of us alone, fuck.
I've never gotten distracted before. When you live on the streets a weak moment is all you need to get you in trouble and it's not because of the homeless folk like me.
There are much worse predators lurking around. Take Falon for example. Multiply that by a hundred because I actually lived on the streets my whole life.
It took Falon a few minutes of not paying attention to land herself in trouble and she was barely outside for ten minutes.
So it's in my nature to take stock of my surroundings.
This guy is dangerous, and though my senses tell me Falon’s man is the one I should fear, my mind tells me the true demon in this club comes with blue eyes that are meant to lower your guard, and a smile to entrap you with its beauty. Who just happens to be sitting across from me.
Killer’s body is relaxed on the chair. The half eaten roll still in his hand and gaze trained on me.
And me? I'm frozen in place.
The air is getting thicker, and it's me who's the cause.
There's so many people in this place yet no one comes to interrupt us, why?!
I shove the rest of my roll in my mouth. Some of it sticking out. I'm not certain what I expect him to do but shoving his roll in his own mouth isn't one of them.
After some serious chewing I swallow at the same time he does, and I can't hold it in, I laugh, it's one of those fear mangled nervous laughs. It picks up because of my gruff voice and Killer joins me.
We both laugh like crazy-people for entirely different reasons.
Me? well, I do have stuff to hide and we both know it. Why he’s laughing I have no fucking clue, but it's real loud.
Knight walks in carrying a big tray with delicious steam coming from it. He takes in the scene, his brown eye stare widening a fraction. The long haired biker turns his head to Killer, giving me a glimpse of the snakes head
tattooed to his neck.
Those red eyes snap my mouth shut. Killer quiets too, but I don't look at the devil in disguise. I'm too chicken to chance a glance and have him bring up any more questions.
Heaven knows I know when to shut my yap and bow my head. After all, I've done it my whole life.
I should've known that he isn't going to drop it.
“Listen, I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you. I just asked a question. But fare enough you not ready to talk, fine. But you need a name. Something.”
The sound of footsteps behind me slow down.
Knight puts the food on the table as Venus and the big muscular guy, Bull, walks in holding bottles of Coca-Cola and packs of beer.
Chadley, Spade, Wisp and Texas sit down in the empty spaces down from Killer, who is still watching me.
Storm plants himself next to me without saying a word.
They are all quiet.
I turn to Storm, his amber eyes expectant.
Shit, they want a name.
I look to the food in the middle of the table. The steak and sausages make my mouth water.
A chair scrapes on the end and I follow the sound to see Zero. He doesn't glance at me as he pulls out the black chair.
Falon drops in it without a sound besides Zero scraping it in.
She looks freshly showered and so does he, the knowledge as to why, causes a panic to overcome me. I'm not sure why. My throat feels tighter and I claw at it, my blunt nails scraping the skin around my neck.
“No.” Zero's deep volcanic voice coming from across the room silences my head enough to see a frail older man walking toward us.
I inhale and tell myself I'm okay, the monster is gone. And although my mind is fighting to go to its dark place, I'm able to hold it back by that simple command.
Another girl's face would've turned Crimson and blushed, maybe even felt embarrassed by her actions and left. I'm not like that, those emotions were raped from me, mind, body and spirit. I can't feel them.
Sometimes I ask myself if I put a bullet in my leg would I even cry. It's like I'm dead inside.