Beggar

by Shan R. K

Except last night on the back of Zero's bike, I felt something breathe life in me.

  I have no idea what it is but it's scary. I don't trust scary.

  The only scary I've known came in a six foot three package that promised only goodness in a fancy car. I unwrapped it like the hard-up eager naïve teenager I was. And it turned out to be a big fucking Monster that didn't just give me bad dreams but live fucking nightmares that still haunts me years after, wherever I go, reminding me that demons always come in the most appealing of packages.

  “If you gotta choose a name what will it be.” Killer asks, unaffected by the audience and my obvious inner battle I have going on inside me.

  My eyes snap off the older man walking closer to us and to Killer’s blue all knowing gaze.

  I clear my throat, “Why do I need a name?”

  He shrugs, with a tilt of his head like he can see deep within me, “What will we call you if you don't have one?”

  I glance across the table and everyone's eyes are on me, apart from one, Zero and it bothers me, why the fuck does it bother me, I should be relieved but I'm not. The older man who must be the president stands behind his chair, and gives me an encouraging nod.

  I turn my head to Storm giving me his undivided attention.

  “Ah.” I swallow, my throat is dry, eyes back on Killer, “How about.”

  Killer arches his left brow as patient as ever, fucker, “Yes?”

  My palms get sweaty, I think fuck it.

  They are either gonna accept me or not.

  This is who I am, this is me.

  Taking one last breath, I look straight into Killers eyes and say

  “Beggar.” I say it loud enough that they can all hear me.

  Killer is quiet and my confidence increases knowing that I managed to shut the devil up.

  “Fuck, I didn't see that one coming,” He cringes and my lip tugs.

  “You sure.” I turn my head to Storm’s question.

  “Yeah, Beggar,” I say, my tone firm.

  Storm’s lips thin showing his displeasure but he doesn't say anything else and I'm glad. He proceeds to lift my plate up and starts dishing me steak and sausage. My mouth salivates as my vision feasts on the yummy meat I'm about to eat.

  “Choose something else.” I miss the low voice, but my eyes immediately shoot to the owner, Zero, who won't look at me but his grip around the fork and hard line of his lips inform me that it's a good thing he doesn't.

  “No.” I give him his word back.

  Knight sighs, “Zero's right, it doesn't feel right calling you that, girly girl.”

  I hear the other males grunt and mumble, but the women are quiet.

  My plate lands in front of me and I pick the steak up and bite into it. It's so fucking good, my mouth tingles as I chew. The flavor is undescribable, I have nothing to compare it to.

  I never had a hot meal, well now I had.

  I take another bite and block the group out, knowing the whole crew is watching me.

  When someones throat clears I face the Italian, who calls himself Knight.

  “It’s my name, the only one.” My words terse and to the point. I don't want them complaining about it while I'm enjoying my first hot meal.

  The muttered curse from one of the girls doesn't faze me.

  “Well Beggar.” I turn my head to the sound of the voice, Rounder. “Welcome to The Satan Snipers motorcycle club.”

  Rounder’s painful eyes crease into a weak smile and the balding head bends in acknowledgment.

  I’m grateful and am familiar with the drill. Once the boss talks they're all screwed because he accepted it, he accepted my name.

  I nod back, “Thank you Prez.”

  “Thank you Beggar.” The grimace when he says my name doesn't go unnoticed.

  Storm coughs and Venus bursts out laughing.

  The air around us is still intense, many of the guys aren't happy. But fuck them, it's my name. I wasn't lying when I told them that's my name, at least the one I gave myself four years ago.

  I blow it off and grab a roll just as the others start filling their plates. I take my sausage and place it in the center of the roll and shove it in my mouth.

  Zero's eyes are on me, I can feel it, and it takes everything in me not to duck under the table just to get away from his cold stare.

  He should be focusing on Falon not looking at me. He’s an idiot, an arrogant, bossy idiot.

  “You want another piece.” My eyes shoot up from my plate to Storm, who's holding a steak mid air with a fork, “God yes.”

  He dumps it on my plate and licks his fingers.

  Killer starts up a conversation with Texas about football and puts another roll in my plate without taking his eyes off his brother.

  Ten minutes later I'm done. My stomach is full.

  Killer turns his attention off Texas to me, “You doing okay there new girl.”

  I smile and shake my head, “Best fucking meal ever.”

  My words must have had importance to him because he rubs his jaw and nods like I just answered an important question.

  Fuck, If I care, I didn't even finish school.

  Chapter 8

  Zero

  TODAY IS A NEW DAY, a new week. For many of us it's a fresh start over, following the weekend. But for some it's just another fucked up day reminding us of what we lost, what we gained and what we want but will never have. Such is life.

  For my brother Bull it's the second.

  His dark grey eyes that once creased whenever he smiled, which used to be every fucking time, now pointed to the cemented basement floor as if it had all the fucking answers to why his life turned out so wrong. Why he lost the one thing he wanted for years, yet only got two months with. His dead wife, Nakita.

  At thirty three and six feet of solid muscle, not to mention the biggest guy in the club, including our Mother chapter in Houston, you’d think a man like him would've moved on, or at least found a woman to warm his bed.

  But he doesn't touch any of the girls. They all offered, he just doesn't give a crap.

  My eyes settle to what he does give a crap about, that's dangling from his hand, weed.

  He smokes twenty four seven.

  I don't mind it now and again and I ain't judging, but for a guy who's road captain and spends majority of his time handling our trips it's dangerous, meaning I gotta keep an extra eye on him.

  I don't like it but a part of me understands.

  “Put that fuckin’ shit out, it's the fuckin’ morning brother. Jesus fuck.” Killer however doesn't. He's the only one. But then again that's who he is.

  Bull pinches the end of the joint so quickly, I feel bad for the man. Killer is one brother you don't push, especially in the morning.

  The basement is our place where we handle church. A year back we installed a handprint security to the entry door. No unwanted guests allowed.

  Unless you one of us, and I mean a full patch member, only then you can enter. It was Killer and Storm’s idea. Best thing ever invented.

  Venus walks in carrying three coffee mugs on a tray. She hands me mine, a black sugarless delight. I inhale my coffee bean medicine.

  Snake takes his and saddles next to me on the wheeled office chair he purchased last Christmas. One for each of us.

  “Checked out the new girl. Cute. Gave her kitchen duty. She doesn't look like no beggar to me man.”

  I grunt. The scar under my eye pulls taut at the mention of her. Shit, I need to get my head out of the gutter, literally.

  This morning was a new day. A good day. Had my cock sucked by my woman, then had fine pussy also from my woman. Beggar wasn't even on my mind. She wasn't even a thought.

  “Beggar, ha, out of all the damn names in this world she chose Beggar, might as well tattoo I'm stupid on her fucking forehead.”

  “She ain't stupid asshole.” Storm glares from across me. I swallow a sip of coffee, realizing I just said that shit loud. But I'm not going to regret it, fuck no, they don
't call me Zero for nothing.

  “You know she's actually lived on the street her whole life, you telling me she went to school.”

  Storm’s nostrils flare, his jaw practically ready to pop and I don't fucking like it. I put my cup on the table on the left. Pinning him down with my narrowed glare. VP or not I've had enough of his shit.

  “Enough both of you.”

  We both turn our heads to the fading man we call our President. I resume my position as before and pick up the red mug with my coffee. Storm doesn't look at me after that and I do the same.

  Once the room quietens I turn behind me to see if the others have arrived.

  The basement has two windows, one above Bulls head, the other on top of Knight and Venus who are sitting close to the steps next to the three freezers we keep our meat in.

  My vision darts past the blue painted walls and Texas who's wearing his cowboy hat, and Spade saddled next to him one row up from me, until it stops on Killer.

  He’s partially hidden in the shadows. Just like me. But I sit down. He has one leg on the wall, he's face an impenetrable mask.

  Killer’s way younger than all of us in this room at just twenty three. But his eyes say they’re ancient.

  He served his country at eighteen, joined the navy at just sixteen became a special ops member at twenty.

  I play with my tongue ring as I stare at him, ignoring the other voices.

  He’s fully dressed this morning, lip ring, eyebrow piercings. The thought makes me smile.

  Yesterday Beggar must've fell for his charm as many did, but Today she’ll meet the Killer.

  She’ll be running back to the streets soon enough. Where she belongs.

  The thought leaves a foul taste in my mouth. I know I'm talking crap. I wouldn't let her get as far as the front gate.

  Killer drops his leg and takes a step into the light, his arms cross over his black t-shirt chest and smirks at me.

  I ignore him, with a shake of my head and focus on the Prez. I can't help it, I like the kid.

  Rounder pierces the knife in the black oak table signaling church in session. We all straighten to face him, except of course Storm who moves to the vacant seat next to Prez.

  I slip my cut on, and so does all the others.

  “Did the girl sleep good?” Rounder asks to no one in particular.

  “Yup, got her next to Zero's room down the hall.” Venus answers.

  “Let's cut to the chase, Beggar saved Falon’s life, and from what Killer says, also saved my babies pride, now that shit is an act of a true Satan Sniper. We need people like her. So we vote. The choices are simple, she either gets patched in first then undergoes training. Or she prospects and becomes a member after. The third option, and this one I thought about but disagree with, is we set her up with a job and give her a place of her own.”

  His body racks with a series of coughs.

  Venus walks over and gives him a bottle of water from the packs on the floor near the freezers. I watch his eyes soften at the Doctor. It's hard watching him fade away. Rounder has been our man, our leader since forever. When he decided he wanted to move here, we didn't question him, we just followed.

  I've served under him in Iraq and on ops all over the world. It's a shame to see him come to this.

  “We don't know anything about her, I have Snake looking into her, so far he got nothing, it's almost like she doesn't exist. But we’ll find something.” He clears his throat, the sound isn't too good, in fact it's bad, very fucking bad.

  “Lets vote.” Rounder says in a phlegm filled voice.

  TEN MINUTES LATER THE Prez has his answers, “Bull, Texas, Killer, Venus, Spade and Storm voted no to full member.” He hits his chest, reading on, “Zero suggests a job and partial hang on.”

  The Prez locks me with a fuming stare, his teeth grinding together, “She saved my daughter.”

  Yeah, if he was his full self,I’ll be under his boot by now.

  “She can barely stand to be touched, how is she going to go through the program, I'm not comfortable training her in combat if she's going to freak every time I touch her.” Spade voices this from behind me. I'm not surprised he got there without me hearing it. He loves sitting in the same seat. Next to the stairs.

  “Afraid she’ll hurt your balls?” That comes from Snake.

  “Nah man, I’ll lose them.” They all laugh at that, even the prez.

  Killer walks closer in, “I could do it.” He suggests rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Say what?” I ask.

  He rolls his eyes and walks to the vacant chair next to Snake, “When I took her upstairs, she asked me to wait for her to sleep. She was thrashing and shit, then woke up. Told me I could touch her then went back to sleep.”

  The thought sends fury like nothing else to overcloud rational thought. Why, I don't care.

  “She went back to sleep? That's it?” The accusatory is full in my question.

  His attention stays above Rounders head, refusing to look at me. He doesn't answer. Just gets up to hide in the shadows.

  Killer’s lying, something went down. And he ain't gonna tell me shit. I can't go beating his ass for it either. He got the name Killer in the Navy at nineteen and it's not because of his blue eyes and killer looks as Chadley likes to believe.

  The others are quiet. Thinking the same thought as me.

  “What did Venus vote.” Bulls deep rusty voice fills the room.

  “A full member. Prospect and a paying job.” Rounder answers.

  “Explain.” Storm demands.

  Venus moves to the front. Giving the males a perfect view of her luscious ass snugged in painted-on black denims, and a blue vest showing the shape of her round tits.

  I had it, tasted it and fucked it. There was no connection between Venus and I besides a deep rooted friendship, didn't mean we didn't enjoy each other.

  She's one of the very few female patched in members of the club. She's also our doctor and not just medical doctor but our psychologist.

  We all perk up to hear what the Doc has to say.

  “She passed the ultimate test of the club so she deserves to be a member. If we bend the rules now because she's a homeless girl what does that say about us.”

  “Tell them babe.” Spade chortles.

  The glares he receives from Storm and the Prez makes me wanna laugh. I could feel the blonde haired soldier gulp.

  Spade likes to mess around and is easy to be around but like Killer, his blue eyes and easy going nature is just a mask.

  He can snap a guys neck in less than ten seconds. I've witnessed his murderous nature. He was kicked out of the squad a year ago due to unstable mental behavior. And branded too dangerous for missions. At twenty nine he’s a retired USA veteran and a full pledged contract sniper for the club.

  We don't believe he is unfit for work. We all know that he faked the whole thing to get off the squad. It was his grandmas dying wish.

  “As I was saying,” Venus continues, “She deserves to be a member, but that doesn't mean we gotta just hand it to her. Plus I think psychologically a job and a purpose will be good for Beggar.”

  “What's your take on her mental state?” Storm asks.

  She tucks a loose hair behind her ear, her well shaped brows frown, “I don't think she's unstable. More so than a lot of people in this room.” Her front faces the rest of us and her violet eyes find mine, and I hold her stare until she turns back to face the Prez.

  “It's obvious that she has some bad memories but I think it's one memory. Something triggers it and she has a panic attack. Which is totally normal considering her circumstances.”

  “It's only men she seems to have issues with. I think the women are ok.” Storm voices.

  “I noticed earlier when Zero commanded her, she instantly reacted.” Venus says.

  “Like a switch. Could mean she's submissive.” Killer walks out of his shadow.

  “Or had a really fucked up experience with a man or men.” Knigh
t suggests. Which I got to admit makes sense.

  “She was definitely raped or tortured somehow. And found a coping mechanism by suppressing her experience. I'm sure you all know what happens when you choose not to confront your past.” Venus says, turning to face the rest of us.

  “It becomes a living breathing demon.” The soft words from Bull makes me cringe. If there's anyone who could relate it’ll be him.

  “Question is how do we help her.” Rounder asks the question I want to know.

  “We can't, she's going to have to help herself. We could be there and offer her comfort and family but ultimately the only person who can help Beggar is herself.”

  “Shit.” Storm mutters.

  “How about forcing her to face her demons.” I ask before I could help myself.

  “It could work, but getting her to do it, to talk about stuff is going to take trust. A lot of trust. And a girl with a background like hers isn't going to open her heart and soul to anyone.”

  “Who said anything about having a choice.” I say.

  “Let me and Zero train her for now.” Killer suggests, now standing right in front of the Prez, his teeth in his lip ring. I don't like the eager expression he doesn't bother to suppress.

  “She's comfortable around Storm,” Venus interjects.

  “Too comfortable, I'm a Sadist, and she's submissive, I know what I'm doing.” Killer counters.

  Venus purses her lips together eyes narrowing on Killer, “I can't tell you what to do. You gonna do what you wanna do anyway.”

  “Thanks for the confidence, but the jealousy is really uncalled for.”

  She fumes, “Beggar is a nice girl, she doesn't need your dose of fucked upness along with Zero's.”

  “Hey.” I warn standing up.

  “Every one sit the fuck down.” Rounder says and starts coughing.

  “Zero can take the first day, alone. Then Killer. She needs the girls to make her feel welcome, don't like the way you women sat away from her. She won't feel welcome until then. So do whatever you gotta do, force them, I don't give a shit, but by the end of today I want that girl feeling welcomed. There's enough dicks here for all of you to share.”