Outlaw's Ride: An MC Romance

by Carter Steele

  Soon enough the meeting wound to a close and the two men shook hands on their new alliance. Patrick had his stable of girls come down as a good-faith gesture to their budding partnership. I frowned, noticing a pattern. Patrick was the kind of man who was quick to offer up the service of others, especially when it was unsavory work.

  I could never trust a man like that.

  Billy’s crew quickly went about picking out their girls for the night. After having been taken care of earlier in the day the club was content to chat over a few beers and keep an eye on things while Billy’s boys got their rocks off in the rooms upstairs.

  Sarah still sat at the table scribbling notes to help facilitate the plans the two men put in motion. I gave her a wide berth to continue working. I was fairly certain that, for some reason, Patrick wasn’t all that thrilled about my interest in Sarah. The last thing I wanted was to make her life any tougher than it had to be by distracting her from his other tasks.

  No. I’d keep my distance until I could pay Patrick for her services.

  That was until I saw Billy lean against the part of the table that Sarah was working at. She didn’t make any move to acknowledge him, and I could see that she hoped he’d just go away. I hadn’t realized I’d even started moving until I was standing next to them. I didn’t catch the beginning of his one-sided conversation at her, but I could damn well guess what he had in mind.

  “Pick another girl,” I said, tapping him on the shoulder. I waited for him to turn to me before continuing.

  “Patrick said any girl we wanted.” The bratty little mob-boss-in-training cocked his head at me. An expectant sense of entitlement rolled off every syllable.

  “Not this one.” I barely kept a low growl out of my voice. “This one’s off the clock right now. You’re going to have to pick another.”

  “Nonsense!” Patrick rushed over to interject when he saw us talking. “All my girls are working tonight. Right, Jezzy?”

  Sarah finally looked up from her paperwork. She glanced at Patrick, slowly nodding, then offered Billy a flat, lifeless smile. She didn’t dare look over at me.

  “See? Jezebel would be happy to accompany you upstairs.” Patrick clapped Billy on the back then scooped up all of Sarah’s paperwork. He spared me a glance before taking it all to a safe he kept in a back room. I’m watching you, the glance said.

  I felt a pit in my stomach widen. Did I just make things worse for her?

  “Great. Let’s go sweetie-pie.” Billy spoke to Sarah, but looked at me.

  He was gloating that he got his way. My expression darkened as I just locked my gaze on him.

  With a breezy smile Billy turned back to Sarah and cocked his head for her to lead the way. As she got up and walked in front of him he slapped her ass, then squeezed it tightly.

  A familiar feeling grumbled in my ribs spurring me to act. I couldn’t explain why I was so pissed off at Billy but I could recognize when I’d had enough. I didn’t give a damn what Patrick said, this asshole didn’t deserve Sarah.

  I took a step toward him with balled up fists, but a thick calloused hand caught my wrist stopping me. With rage in my eyes, I snapped my head over to see my uncle staring back at me.

  “You better not be doin’ what I think you’re about to do,” Mac scolded me quietly.

  “Yeah? And what’s that?” I asked in a low growl.

  “Shooting the club in the foot because of your damn pride.” He squeezed tighter. “Think of what’s best for the club and let it go. We need this partnership to get us back on our feet.”

  He thought this was about my pride? No. This was about…

  What exactly? Why was I so pissed off? Sarah was a whore, this was what she did. What does it matter if she obviously doesn’t want anything to do with that Billy-clown? I didn’t own her and I didn’t owe her anything either.

  Watching her get led away by some other guy, especially one like him, really got under my skin for some reason. I pulled away from my uncle and followed them. Mac called my name but I ignored him.

  “Hey,” I said, stopping Billy in the staircase leading up to the second floor rooms.

  “The fuck do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy.” Billy turned, looking agitated.

  Think of what’s best for the club. Mac’s words stung with every step I took closer to Billy. If I beat the shit out of Billy Bones right here and now I’d feel a hell of a lot better. But what would that really accomplish? Best case scenario after the ass-whooping was that Billy ends the alliance with Patrick, and in turn he fires us leaving the MC broke as shit and scrambling to set up another connection somewhere else. If that happened who knows what Patrick would do to Sarah?

  Worse case scenario was a blood feud between Billy’s crew and us then people would start to die.

  I didn’t really have a choice here, so I did the only thing I could. Threaten him and hope for the best.

  “You’d better play nice. If the product comes back broken,” I said coming to stop a few inches shy of his nose. “Then that’s how you and your boys will be leaving here.”

  6

  Jezebel

  Billy turned out to be just like any other client I’d ever had. He wanted all the same things that most men wanted and it was over pretty quickly, all things considered. Surprisingly, considering his reputation, Billy was very careful not to hurt me. That wasn’t to say he was a considerate or even a competent lover by any means. He was selfish and very cognizant of the fact that I was there to serve him. Despite a few moments where it looked like he wanted t0 be more aggressive, in the end he decided against beating, cutting or burning me like some other men.

  I’d read up on Billy’s history when I set the meeting up with him and Patrick. He had a sadistic streak to him and that’s why I was so afraid when he chose me. If it hadn’t been for Wreck I didn’t know what Billy would’ve done to me.

  Patrick on the other hand… When he opened my door after Billy had cleaned up and left, I knew exactly what was in store for me. He was going to slap me around a bit and yell at me for something that wasn't my fault and was completely out of my control.

  Patrick wasn't muscular in a traditional workout all the time way, but he was a large man. At over six feet tall and with at least one hundred-and-fifty pounds on me he easily took up most of the doorway he stood in. His glasses caught in the light, the shine blocked my ability to see his eyes.

  Looking up at him filled me with a sense of dread that was like being wrapped in a wet blanket on a freezing night. I immediately started scribbling in my notepad to tell him that I didn't know why Wreck had taken such an interest in me and that I wouldn't tell him anything. I only got a few words down before I felt his fist land on the side of my head.

  I was unconscious before I hit the ground.

  Some time later I woke up, but quickly realized I was no longer in my room. The room was pitch black, but that didn't matter. It was the smell of stale cigars and B.O. That gave it away. I didn't even need to see to know I was now in Patrick's office down the hall. I'd spent countless nights on his computer researching local law, code, accounting, incorporation documents, and everything else necessary to run a small legal business. But that wasn't why he had me doing the work. He wanted me to learn, and I'd always been an excellent student. If you know the law intimately then it's easy to find loopholes, work-arounds and corrupt people in power to bribe or extort.

  I groaned against the strain in my wrists and ankles. My anxiety spiked at being bound and I thrashed against my restraints, but to no avail. The handcuffs didn't budge. This was bad. I hadn't infuriated Patrick this bad in a long time. I was genuinely afraid of whatever was going to happen next.

  Patrick was sadistic, petty and cruel, but he hadn't done anything like to me in...well, since the first time I incurred his wrath.

  My punishment for doing the right thing.

  I'll never make that mistake again.

  Calming my breathing, I tried to focus on what was going on. I
didn't think he was going to kill me. No, I was too valuable these days. But my mind started down really dark paths. He'd made the repercussions for disobedience very clear in the past. He once told me I didn't need the ability to walk to use a computer. I shivered.

  Minutes turned to excruciating hours. In a way I'd been lucky that I hadn't eaten or drank anything since my I guess you could call it date with Wreck otherwise I'd have to pee. God, being with Wreck felt like so long ago now despite it not being even twenty-four hours ago.

  Just outside girls working late wrapped up their nights with their clients. I thrashed around again wishing I could just scream to them to come and help me, but that was impossible. My heart ached and I soon stopped struggling. Even if they did hear me none of them would be brave enough to help me and risk Patrick's wrath. They weren't bad girls, they were just trying to survive. I couldn't fault them for that.

  All alone in the dark I found my thoughts drifting to the one person who'd brought light into my life. I had Wreck pegged so wrong when I first met him. Everything about him was unexpected, refreshing, and curious. The aviary was a dream come true. I didn't know places like that existed. All the birds there were so exotic and nearly bursting with life. Their freedom was an illusion of course but they didn't know that. Blissful in their ignorance they lived happy lives.

  With every pencil mark I put down on the sketch pad I envied them a little more. For years and years I wished I could just turn into a bird and fly away from all of this. It was funny, the closest thing I felt to actual freedom was being on the back of his bike. I could still feel the memory of the wind on my skin and the road's vibration in my bones.

  Wreck was unlike anyone I'd ever met.

  I saw what he was preparing to do when Billy chose me. Thank God someone stopped him from causing a scene or I might never have woken up at all after Patrick walked into my room.

  What I still couldn't figure out was why? Why did he come after me? Why did he show any interest in me at all? The time I spent with him at the aviary and the restaurant afterward was like a dream of another life. He made me almost feel normal, like I wasn't...who I am.

  That was why I wanted him to stay away. I couldn't afford to get distracted...or hopeful. Eventually he would abandon me too and another piece of me would die away.

  Soon there would be nothing left of me.

  The computer on Patrick's desk in front of me flashed then booted up. A few moments later the monitors blinked to life bathing the dirty, disorganized room in harsh blue light. It took several minutes for the computer to become fully operational, but after I saw the mouse cursor move on it's own and the password to unlock the home screen get entered I realized Patrick must've been controlling it remotely.

  That wasn't all that surprising. Computers, networks and gadgets were his thing. He was an IT technician before he became a glorified pimp with delusions of crime-boss grandeur.

  Eventually his face appeared on the screen. Far too close to the camera. He checked the connection then backed off. When he pulled away I saw where he was and I tried to scream, but only ragged air came out. I thrashed in my chair, the cuffs cut small gashes in my wrist. All of it was useless but I couldn't stop myself.

  It might've been seven years since I saw it, but I immediately recognized my little brother's bedroom when Patrick stepped away. He slept in a small bed with star stickers glowing on his walls around a Baltimore Ravens poster. Jeffy had to be ten-years-old now. God he was so big!

  There was no audio on the feed so I couldn't hear what Patrick was saying, but I did see him pull out a box cutter from his pocket and sit on the bed next to Jeffy. Jeffy stirred but didn't wake. With one hand Patrick gently rubbed my little brother's head and with the other he slowly extended the razor to the full position, closed it, then extended it again. Over and over all the while looking directly at the camera. Looking directly at me.

  Get the fuck away from him, you monster! I screamed again, and like always my throat betrayed me. Hot tears ran down my cheeks. The only screaming and pleading I could do was trapped in my own mind. Please! Please don't hurt him. I'll do anything. I promise!

  Patrick heard something off camera and slid the knife back into his pocket. Low light from the hallway flowed into the room, then another person became visible on the screen. It was my mother just as I remembered her. Her brown hair was pulled back in a loose braid and her smile was every bit as warm as it was on the last day I saw her.

  I missed them both more than words could say...

  Bile rose in my throat as I saw the way she looked at him. He was a lying, sadistic bastard. Everything was so much better before Patrick came into our lives.

  She leaned against the doorway, crossed her arms and looked wistfully at her son and her husband. She had no idea what kind of monster shared her bed. If I had one wish it'd be to show her what kind of man he really was.

  Patrick was all smiles looking back at her, then he leaned over on the bed and kissed Jeffy on the forehead. He took her hand and just before they left the room together he glanced back at the cameras, knowing I was watching.

  The look was very clear.

  This is what you have to lose if you don't do exactly what I say.

  I shivered and hung my head, desperately trying not to vomit. The bastard left the live feed on while they went off to have a glass of wine together in the dining room. I couldn't see them of course. If he had other cameras set up in the house he didn't switch my feed outside Jeffy's bedroom. If I listened closely I could hear him making mom laugh and carrying on like he didn't have her daughter held captive across town.

  I spent hours crying off and on while watching Jeffy sleep. It was incredibly bittersweet. I was so glad my family was ok, but knowing that psychopath could turn on them at any moment was soul-crushing.

  Whatever happened next I had to be extremely careful. As much as I really hated the idea I knew I couldn't ever see Wreck again, that much was for sure. But how much of that was in my control?

  Like everything else in my life, ultimately Patrick got to decide what happened next.

  7

  Wreck

  “She's unavailable unfortunately.” Patrick adjusted his glasses and looked at me with an air of apology that was mostly full of shit.

  “Again?” I asked through clenched teeth despite us both knowing it wasn't a question. It was bullshit. Had to be. Sarah had been unavailable every single night. It'd been a week since I'd seen her last.

  This past week had been packed with shit. We'd been out there cutting break lines, lighting fires and generally fueling a gang war that was decimating the criminal underground in the area. A couple more weeks of this and Patrick would have the little empire he was paying us for.

  And all I wanted was to see Sarah.

  “I don't know what to tell you, big man...” He shrugged innocently, then snapped his fingers and waved over the girls that hadn't been taken yet. “But I have other girls that are very talented.”

  Three girls surrounded me, seductively laying their hands across my chest and back. I wasn't interested in any of them. I wanted Sarah, but she wasn't here.

  If I pushed any harder about Sarah Patrick could take out his frustrations on her. No I couldn't rock the boat until I at least found out what happened to her.

  I gave Patrick a sour look and grabbed the ass of one of the other girls, leading her away Along the way I grabbed a bottle of tequila, some limes and salt then set me and the blond up at the back of the room at an empty table.

  “What's your name?” I asked setting the supplies down and pouring us a double shot each.

  “Gingger with three Gs,” she replied with a wide smile.

  “How long you been working for Patrick?” I slid a glass over to her and raised mine for cheers.

  “Six months, I think.” It took her a moment to do the math in her head, then she clinked the glass with me and did the shot. She followed it with salt and lime.

  I took mine straight, p
referring the sting of the alcohol.

  I set us up again and continued with some small talk. After a few drinks she was already a little tipsy, so I grabbed the bottle and had her lead me upstairs. I paused for a moment on my way past Sarah's room. Her door was closed and her room was quiet. That wasn't a great sign.

  Gingger was all over me by the time she pushed her door open. The room was nearly identical to Sarah's but the bare bones versions. It was abundantly clear Gingger's stay here was on a client by client basis. If clients wanted to spend the night they could, but no one was actively living here.

  “You got any Stevie Ray Vaughn,” I asked, grabbing her arms and peeling her off me. Gingger gave me a blank look so I assumed she didn't. Instead I asked her to put on something with a good guitar riff. When she still couldn't find anything on her iPhone I settled with whatever she normally played. I was introduced to the term deep house music and wasn't impressed.

  I poured two more shots of tequila. We clinked and downed them. She'd stopped asking for the salt and lime and was just drinking it straight with me.

  Gingger plopped down on the bed and rolled onto her stomach whining playfully at how she wanted me to hurry up and join her.

  “All good things come to those who wait...” I started letting the thought drift and handing her a shot instead. I locked eyes giving her a sultry stare so she wouldn't realize I'd poured her twice as much as I had myself.

  “I wanna suck your cock,” she slurred, clumsily stripping off her top. She was solidly drunk by now and was struggling to keep from rolling off the bed

  “Well, isn't that funny,” I said, watching her strip down the rest of the way. “I happen to want my cock to get sucked. Why don't you warm that pussy up for me?”

  “Like this?” she asked, licking her hand and cupping her pussy. Then she began rubbing slow circles into her clit. She pulsed her fingers between her lower lips rhythmically then dipped two deep inside, all the while attempting to hold eye contact. The alcohol in her system made her head bob slightly and her blinks get longer and longer.