Helter Skelter: The River Demons Louisiana MC Book 1

by Brair Lake

  “If you’re ever in the mood to share, you know I’m game.” As I listened to TJ’s throw away remark, the heat in my stomach rose, clenching around my gut and with a grind of my teeth, I ignored my brother. What if we had shared in the past? I wasn’t sharing Firebird with anyone.

  “I’ll give you a shout.” The words had scrapped along the back of my throat as I released them.

  “You do that, Leon.” The low snigger in TJ’s voice caught my attention, and from over my glass, I threw him a dirty look. Which for all my efforts, caused TJ to burst out a loud chuckle.

  “Hey, Leon. When you’ve finished with her, how about I give her go.” Pond hadn’t helped with his throw away quip, and slowly I had risen, leaving the brothers, and now I find myself standing in front of Oyster as he confronts me.

  “Look, Leon. You’re not acting yourself. Just take care okay.” And with a nod, Oyster turns away.

  “I’m a big boy.”

  “I’d listen to Oyster, Leon.” Day’s gaze follows Oyster as he returns to the boat.

  “I didn’t realize you were an expert on the heart, Day.”

  “I’m not. But I am on the Davaro’s.” Day’s eyes are cold as he watches me.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Day’s chest puffs out as he releases a deep sigh through his pursed lips as he tilts his head back to look at the stars which have replaced the sun. “Nothing. Just forget I said anything.”

  With a speculative gaze, I continue to study Day. Wondering just what the fuck Clarence Davaro has done to him. Usually Day isn’t one to hold on to a grudge. If you’ve done something wrong to warrant his wrath. He usually handles the retaliation PDQ. With a shrug, I dismiss Firebird from my thoughts. “What are we going to do with Spanish Pete?”

  “Sinbad and the Brothers are coming for the funeral. You know he’s distantly related to Sinbad. I think it’s through his dead wife Anna-Leigh.”

  “And if it’s not Jono who’s behind the attack?”

  “Fuck, Leon. His body was found on the highway. What the fuck was he doing on the other side of town? And why the fuck was he on his own?”

  I don’t have an answer, and all I can offer is a hopeless shrug. “Maybe he has a girlfriend or something… His family might know.”

  “Yeah. Perhaps.” The silence is deafening as it stretches. We have too many questions and not enough answers. Day turns towards the riverboat. “If it’s Jono. At least we’ll have somewhere to start.”

  “I’ll start making inquiries.”

  “No. - Wait till Oyster returns.... Are you coming back in?”

  Day glances over his shoulder and I shake my head. “Not yet.”

  Firebird isn’t visiting tonight and after my abrupt departure earlier, I was impatient to talk to the redhead. Fuck, the brothers are right. I never act like this over some pussy. As far as I was concerned pussy was pussy as long as they got me off. And when it came to sex, I had no preference. A whore was a whore who was available to scratch my itch.

  Fuck, I lost my virginity to one of my high school teachers. The memory brings a lingering smile to my lips. She may not have been my girlfriend, but it ended up being one of the best summers I ever had. Until now. Now Firebird has me forgetting every skank and whore I’ve ever fucked. Maybe it’s because I know none of the guys at the club have fucked her or touched her.

  Near the lake's edge there is an old tree, and as I drag my cell from my pocket, I make my way to the secluded spot. Firebird answers on the fourth ring. Her breathless whisper hurls blood directly to my cock.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “What are you up to?”

  Firebird’s laughter floats over me, wrapping me tightly in its cocoon. “Not much, Now Pa’s not here. I’m taking over his room. So Poppy and I have just sorted the rooms out. Moved some stuff about. I never realized how heavy a bed could be.”

  “You should have called. I’d have sent a couple of the guys over.”

  Again, there was that laughter. When my toes curl in my black leather biker boots, all I can do, is chuckle as I gaze at the stars which grabbed Day’s attention earlier.

  “Didn’t need them, Leon. Anyway, why have you rung?”

  “To chat.”

  “About what?”

  When my cock twitches, I smile some more. “Are you on your own?”

  Silence greets me and I draw in a deep breath as I wait for Firebird’s answer. “The boys are out. And Poppy’s in her room.”

  “Wanna play?”

  More silence, then. “Leon.”

  The ‘Leon’ is a mixture of disbelief and excitement. As I settle against the tree, grinning to myself. I undo the zipper, freeing my cock to cup the hard, heavy shaft in my hand. “Talk dirty to me.”

  “Leon.”

  “Go on Firebird. You don’t have to do anything but talk dirty.”

  When the phone remains silent, I go still. Apprehensive Firebird may have hung up on me. And then…

  “I’m wearing the tiniest of thongs, they’re so tiny, their resemblance is more of a piece of black lace, than red silk as they tickle against my inner thighs. The Basque, which is made of black lace and red silk, pushes my tits up, causing them to overflow…….” As Firebird tease me with her words, her voice grows sultrier and huskier. With a sigh, I close my eyes, losing myself into her fantasy. And as I pump my cock, my gasps match each stroke.

  *****

  Daisy – The Davaro’s Home Noir Valley

  Sunday is my favorite day. The day I have the house to myself. Over the years it has become more of a ritual than anything else. The boys, Leif and Herbie go to baseball practice. Then they have lunch with a group of friends before doing what it is young men do. Poppy always spent her Sunday’s with Mrs. Spencer, some old dear she met through her part-time job at the local grocery store.

  As I stand in the backyard scowling at the tiny plot of dirty gray slab, which is about nine-foot-wide. Shit, calling it a yard, is a stretch of the imagination and I have done what I can to brighten the place. To give it life. There are a few plants in some handmade decorative pots which need tidying. Something I plan to do later this afternoon. With a shake of my head, I bring my gaze back to the house. The pots are not the only things in need of brightening up. The windows could do with a clean and the frames a fresh coat of paint. A task I’ll pass on to Leif as I intend to enjoy the sun today, not work in it. I reach for the homemade lemonade which started off ice cold when I brought it outside and has now grown warm from the heat, and it is with a grimace I place it back on the small patio table, leaning back into the matching chair, as I close my eyes.

  Ten days. I haven’t seen or heard from Pa in ten days, and now the worry of where he is begins to set in. Shit, where the hell is he. Late last night I caved in and rang his cellphone. Only for my call to go straight to voicemail. My body shudders as the sigh I am holding back, escapes. Rising from the garden chair, I sprint into the kitchen and grab the car keys from the kitchen counter.

  The bar in my quest to find Pa, has to be one of the seediest in Noir Valley, and it is with some reluctance I push the door open and step into the dimly lit room. It’s an old bar, and the rank of stale alcohol assaults my nose. As I scan the room for Pa, and slowly make my way to the bar where Si is working, I blank out the crowd of men. Blank out their suggestive glances and leers. Closing my ears to the cat whistles and calls. “Hi Si…. Is he here?”

  “Sorry, Daisy. I haven’t seen your old man in about a week.”

  “A week?” Simon’s pale blue eyes pass over me with a mixture of sadness and pity. An emotion I can do without. Usually ‘The Sandman’ is Pa’s last port of call when he is on a bender. “Any idea where he could have moved on to?”

  “Sorry, Daisy.” Si shakes his head. Dark wavy hair flays across his face as he wipes a glass with a cloth which has seen better days.

  As I scan the room once more, a niggling notion surfaces. Something I hadn’t thought
of before and I turn back to Si. “Does he have a girlfriend?”

  Simon’s shaggy hair swings once more as he gives another shake of his head. His teeth flashing in a rare genuine smile. “I’ve never seen him with a woman,. Which doesn’t mean he hasn’t got one somewhere.”

  “It was worth asking, wasn’t it, Si?” My own smile is just as weak as I turn to leave, giving the room another sweep. Si’s chuckle follows me outside, and I breathe in deep. Welcoming the clean, but not fresh air.

  The late morning has morphed into late afternoon and I have failed to locate Pa. When my stomach rumbles, I pull into a drive-thru, order a cheeseburger with fries. Then I head out to the lake. The picnic area is busy, and I watch as everyone around me plays at happy families. When I bite into my cheeseburger, onion drops onto the napkin and my gaze becomes fixated on a young couple who are making out under an old tree. Watching them reminds me of Leon. I haven’t seen him since the day we rode out to his private bayou. The day I’d skipped work for the first and only time in my life. I try not to think of Leon too often. When I do, my body breaks out in a heated sweat of arousal. I may not have seen the biker in several days. However, he hasn’t forgotten about me. He hasn’t missed one day to call me several times. My cheeks warm as I think of Leon and his phone calls. The first time he asked me to talk dirty to him over the phone, I had stumbled, blushing deeply when I heard him come over the air waves of the cellphone. Now he rings me each morning and evening for phone sex. A small giggle escapes me as I remember the first morning he called. How had he known what time I rose? My alarm had just finished buzzing, when the cellphone started to ring. Then, when he had begun to talk dirty. His voice spiking my morning arousal, I had been too embarrassed to do the things he requested. The night before I had fallen asleep on the couch and I was still there. Slowly, as he had carried on talking. His voice seductive and hypnotic, I had found myself touching myself at his commands. Shit, I need to stop these thoughts now. Thankfully, his calls and texts, when I am at the library are comparatively milder.

  Leon’s absence in my life is down to the murder of Spanish Pete. Hell, Noir Valley is buzzing with gossip about the murder of the young biker. This however doesn’t stop me from missing the biker. As the couple’s petting session turns heavier, I pull my cellphone from my purse.

  “Hi Firebird.”

  “Leon.”

  “What are you up to?” His voice slithers around my ear and my smile deepens.

  “The house was quiet. So, I decided to go look for Pa.” The sudden silence has me gripping the steering wheel. “Leon?”

  “Did you find him?”

  “No.”

  Leon’s sigh has me releasing one of my own. “Are you home?”

  “What… - No.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At the picnic lake. Sat in the car. People watching.” Why did I mention my guilty secret to Leon?

  “See anything interesting happening.” The low drawl of his voice curls my toes.

  About to tell him no again. I laugh and tell him about the couple making out.

  “Do you imagine it’s us, Firebird?” My laughter is shaky because Leon is right, I am missing him and his body. “From your silence, I can take that as a yes.” Again, I laugh shakily as I brush the hair away from my face. “Undo you zipper Firebird.”

  “Leon!”

  “No one can see you, Firebird. Under your zipper.” A quick glance around the picnic area shows everyone is too involved in their own going on, so I obediently follow Leon’s command. “Slide your hands into your panties, Firebird… Are you wet?” I’ve turned my gaze to the couple by the old tree. The young man has removed his Tee-shirt and his body morphs into Leon’s broad, dark, golden body. “Tell me what the couple are doing.”

  “They’re kissing. He’s removed his top and his head is lowering to kiss the woman.”

  “Rub yourself, Firebird. And I’ll tell you what I’d be doing to you if that was us under the tree for all to watch.” A shiver rocks my body as I lower my zipper. “First, I slowly kiss your sweet lush mouth. Tastings and sampling your inner warmth. Then I move down to your throat. Where I lick the sweat from the hollow base. Soon afterwards, I slither down until I was at your sweet pussy. With a teasing shuffle, I strip you of your panties. Then do you know what?”

  “What.” Shit is that breathless sound really my voice. Leon’s sinful tale has conjured an image of his head lying between my legs as I rub my clit.

  “I lick you. Stroke every inch of your pussy with my tongue until your body explodes around mine as your love juices cover my tongue.”

  Leon’s words have done more than what my fingers alone could have accomplished. Right here. Hidden in my car from view, I come. The orgasm isn’t as hot or as intense as they are when Leon touches me, or his body is inside mine. However, it is enough to leave me breathless.

  “Leon. When will I see you?”

  “Soon. Very soon.”

  There’s a deep promise in his voice and as we say goodbye, I find myself whistling on the way home.

  The house is still empty when I arrive home. And now that the evening has turned cool, I pour myself another glass of lemonade and begin to tidy the pots, the weed pile growing as I pluck at the soil.

  “Daisy.”

  Lost in my daydreams of Leon, I failed to hear the small back gate open. Dropping the small trowel into the pot, I brush my hands on my thighs as I turn to Al. “Leif’s not here.”

  “I haven’t come to see Leif.”

  “Oh.”

  It was when I spy the bunch of wildflowers he is holding; it dawns on me and I offer him a regretful smile. “Sorry, Poppy’s not here either.”

  As Al blushes, I attempt to hide my smile. “They’re not for Poppy. They’re for you.” Al hasn’t finished speaking before I find the flowers roughly thrust into my hands.

  “Oh, they’re lovely. But why?” Al’s mumbled “Just to say thanks.” Is what I manage to make out, and it takes me a moment for my smile to return as I turn to the house. “I’ve some homemade lemonade. Would you like some?”

  “No… I’d better go.”

  “You don’t have to go. Leif should be home soon.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll see him tomorrow.

  Chapter 7

  Leon – Demon’s Lair Noir Valley

  Restlessness and boredom have my mind wandering and it is only with half an ear, I listen to Day. Sexual frustration has me by the balls. The phone calls with Firebird fail to ease the tension building up in me. If anything, they are intensifying the emotions running amok in my body. Fuck, even the club whores have lost their appeal. Failing to make my cock twitch, never mind bounce. As Day drops the gavel, signaling the end of church, I expel a sigh of relief. I lean back in my chair and cross my right leg over my left knee and watch the other bikers leave the room. My gaze on the door until it closes behind the last biker, leaving Day and myself in the room.

  “Hey, Prez.”

  “Yeah.” Day looks up from the desk drawer as he finishes locking it.

  “I’m thinking of taking off this weekend.”

  Black eyebrows rise as a crooked smile plays on his face. “Planning some lone time?”

  I don’t need a mirror to know my smile is goofy. “Nope.”

  “You’re a big boy, Leon.” Day shrugs as he walks away from me to go and join the others.

  I am and with a snigger, I scratch my balls. Yeah, I hungered to be away. My gaze goes to the window. Yesterday we buried Spanish Pete. We also found out the reason why he was on the wrong side of town. A girl. Someone unknown or connected with the club. Further investigation into her family and friends revealed there was no reason for them to be involved in his murder. My head throbs and I rub the back of my neck. There simply were no reasons for them or anyone else to attack the young biker. While looking in to Spanish Pete’s murder we found out Jono is back and it looks as though he is out to instigate trouble. On the bright side, Oyster and Dat
a have managed to find their camp and tomorrow we ride out.

  “It won’t bite.”

  Glancing up at the intrusion, I smile as Sinbad enters the room. He and his Brothers had ridden over for Spanish Pete’s funeral. The young man had had a good turnout. However, today is The Scarlet Runners last day in Noir Valley before returning to their own patch in the morning. “Sorry.”

  “You were frowning at the bottle.”

  My laughter is hollow as once more my attention returns to Jono. It’s three years since the attempted coup when he rallied several of the Brothers, including Clipper. Their grievance over us handing over our main drug lines to Devil’s Comfort had become out of control. We were happy with the gambling side of things. Plenty of money was coming in and we didn’t need the hassle of drug running. Jono had challenged Day’s leadership over our move into gambling. Only to find himself on the losing side. After the chaos of those months, Jono and his supporters left The River Demons and Noir Valley.

  “We’ll find who killed Spanish Pete.”

  “When you do. Give me a call.” Sinbad pulls up a chair, taking a swing out of his own bottle.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “The boy was my wife’s nephew. I want to know if his death is connected to hers.” Brown eyes challenge me. His gaze cold and I refuse to flinch. Sinbad’s wife was murdered several years back, and according to the grapevine, her death hit him hard and he is still searching for answers.

  “Sinbad. If Hank sees you or the brothers in Noir Valley, he’ll start asking questions. Which means we’ll not have the freedom to ask the appropriate people for the right answers.”

  Sinbad drains his bottle, spinning the empty bottle on the wooden table. “Before you do anything. Find out what they know about Anna-Leigh’s death.”

  “I will.”

  Then he was gone, and I find myself sitting by myself. A glance at my watch confirms it’s past midnight. A sardonic smile flickers at the corners of my lips. Firebird will be tucked up in bed, making me reluctant to disturb her. There’ll be plenty of time over the weekend for me to attain satisfactory relief in that delicious body of hers.