Tru Murphy

by Gypsy Reed

  It was several hundred more miles until we made it home, so we stopped to eat at a 24-hour truck stop. Butch pulled in behind us on my bike. He had brought the cage I was driving Tru and Sara and their baby home in.

  Butch was a good-looking kid, pussy magnet, looking more like Robert Redford’s body double rather than an outlaw biker. Butch often suffered from diarrhea of the mouth. He was a smart ass and not in a likable way, but damn if the boy couldn’t get shit done.

  We sat where I could see both rides through the windows, in a corner booth, and ordered our food.

  “Butch, Butch,” Sara whispered, stroking the baby gently.

  “What’s she doing?” Butch asked.

  “Trying out baby names,” Tru said in a clipped manner.

  Sara shook her head, “That name sucks.”

  “Thanks a lot.” Butch smiled.

  Sara blushed, “It’s good on you, I just don’t know.” She looked at me “What are your son’s names?”

  “Calder, Cash, Cruz and Colt.” I offered, taking a sip of hot coffee.

  “A colt is a baby horse.” She stated with a look of confusion.

  “He’s named after the pistol.” Butch chimed in. I shot him a look. The kid couldn’t keep his tongue from wagging.

  Sara’s mouth opened, “How did you know what their names were?”

  I smiled, “Easy, Calder was my father’s name. He died when I was little, Truman’s dad raised me. I named Cash after my favorite singer, Cruz after my favorite thing to do in my free time, and Colt gave us problems before he was even born, so we knew he would be a pistol, and there you have it.”

  She turned to her right, “Who was your father, Tru?”

  Butch jerked anxiously in his seat, bending forward, “Only the greatest outlaw biker that’s ever walked this earth. The stories about him are legendary. He founded the club and this one time...”

  “Shut it, Butch.” I clipped harshly, staring at my brother who stared right back, as defiant as ever.

  I just knew he was about to erupt and spew some crazy diatribe about how names have some hidden ulterior motives and the government brainwashes us into thinking we need them along with social security numbers and how he was actually named after the 33rd president and not after our mother’s favorite author. But he didn’t do that. He leaned into Sara and whispered in her ear for a good long minute.

  Her eyes filled up with tears while she looked at me. Her lips trembled. I got this sinking feeling in my gut that my brother had spilled a lot in her ear in sixty seconds.

  “I like that name. But Tru said it was only okay with him if it was okay with you. Because you lost two fathers, and he only lost the one.” She said, her voice choked up.

  It took every ounce of the outlaw in me not to break down. Because I was right and wrong about my brother and he was turning out to be every bit his father. I was the man I was because of him because he stepped up because he loved our mother and his club and his boys more than anything else. I resolved right then and there to never underestimate Tru ever again.

  “That sounds right to me,” I told her and never was I rewarded with a smile like the one Sara gave me. She scooted over to me and kissed me.

  The waitress brought over the food, and she took a long look at Butch, and he winked at her. She rolled her eyes at him. I smirked and turned to Sara “Let’s eat darlin. Then we can get back on the road and get you all home.”

  She nodded and scooted back to Truman. They traded out holding the baby as they ate; it was like a perfectly choreographed routine.

  Then I noticed Sara staring at me and I looked at her “Got something in my beard darlin?” I wouldn’t call her sweetheart if that’s what Tru called her.

  “You’re very handsome Mitch.” She said matter of fact.

  “Thanks, I got all the looks.” I winked at her.

  “Yeah, but I got all the inches.” Tru deadpanned.

  Butch still wasn’t silent as he choked.

  Sara Jane

  I TRIED NOT TO BE FREAKED out by all the sudden changes; it was exciting and a bit terrifying. It would have been worse without Tru. But I trusted his brother Mitch completely. Because Tru did.

  It was a big house; it looked charming, sprawling; I think that was the word to describe it. I heard the tremor in Tru’s voice when he said, “You didn’t lie, brother, when you said you were taking us home.”

  “Lorraine and the boys have my house, and I stay at the clubhouse. It can be temporary, I’ll find you something else if it doesn’t suit you. This was last minute, but I kept the house up. There are some boxes in the spare bedrooms, been using them for storage.”

  “It’s very nice, Mitch.” I exited the car and walked towards the house.

  I walked up the drive, passed the walk to the front door and went down to the side door across from the garage.

  “It’s like she’s been here before.” They said in unison from behind me. “Doubt that front door can be opened now, nobody ever used it, even once.”

  I felt like I was being drawn to something, something bigger than what I currently knew to be true. This was their home. This was a house that belonged to a family. But it was empty, like Tru, and I used to be.

  It was rugged and old, but we could fill it up with new. I turned the knob, and it clicked. Tru grabbed my hand, “I need a minute Sara.” He was so tense I thought the vein in his temple might burst.

  “Okay. But I want to see inside.” I told him and took the baby from him.

  He grabbed my arm, “This is so fucking hard. Don’t leave me, Sara.” He said through clenched teeth.

  “I couldn’t do that Tru,” I told him.

  Mitch smiled “I’ll see you later darlin.” he turned to his brother “Don’t make her wait too long.”

  Tru

  LIFE CAN BE FULL OF shit you’re uncomfortable doing. Like paying taxes or waiting in line for just about anything, working a nine to five or going down on strange pussy in the dark.

  But if you made your choice to do it, you just have to get over yourself, bite the bullet and fucking do it. I wasn’t ready for how it would feel, seeing the inside of mom and dad’s house, it hadn’t fuckin changed at all. Everything was exactly the same, everything but me.

  I also wasn’t ready for seeing Sara and the baby playing on the same floor where Mitch and I once had. They’d be safe here, I could protect them here, plus there was the bonus of Mitch and the club having our backs.

  I don’t know how this shit happened. If Sara found me or I saw her, or some crazy cosmic alignment occurred that sent us careening towards each other. I don’t really believe in that astrology bullshit, zodiacs. I do believe in karma, though. It must be broken, because I don’t deserve a woman like Sara Jane, but I’m damned well fucking keeping her.

  Eventually, something would have to be done about Nathaniel Hastings, but he wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon. Hopefully, it would be long enough to make a realistic plan on how to reach him. After all, nobody is actually untouchable.

  NOT THAT I WAS AN EXPERT on babies, but Sin was a hoot, if not a bit weird. One moment he was playing wide-eyed and happy, and the next moment he was sound asleep in his playpen. Mitch had somehow gotten a crib and many other things a baby needs in record time.

  I was going to join Sara in the shower when I heard the water shut off. She came into the bedroom, hair dripping wet, holding a towel around her “Tru, what do you wear to a biker clubhouse?”

  “Anything you want, nothing fancy though, they’re a bunch of outlaws,” I told her.

  She looked at my chest, and open jeans then flushed prettily, she always did that even though she had seen me naked plenty of times. “I saved you some hot water.”

  I knew for a fact that there would always be plenty of hot water in this house, unlike that apartment we lived in, but I kept quiet and shucked off my jeans “Thanks, sweetheart.” I said as I pushed her wet hair off her shoulders and bent down to kiss her neck.

 
“Don’t you want to get in the shower?” she gasped, grabbing my hips.

  “Right now sweetheart, I just want to get in you,” I told her and tugged off her towel.

  “Oh, okay.” She moaned as I sucked her neck and squeezed her breasts.

  Sara turned away from me and bent over the dresser, placing her hands on it and pushing her ass out. I almost chuckled at her until a revelation hit me. I always fucked her from behind. She had amnesia, so it might not even occur to her there were different positions. It had become a habit of mine on the streets, I never needed to see their faces, they were just a means to get off. They meant nothing, and I had been treating Sara that way.

  I picked her up in my arms and walked over to the bed and laid her on it. She smiled up at me as I moved over her and said “Oh.”

  I kissed her and as sweet as Sara was, there was something about the way she kissed me back that was bad. It made me harder. I feathered my fingers over her pussy before sliding one in deep. She was always so fucking wet for me. She moaned against my mouth and grabbed my hips, trying to pull me between her legs.

  “Relax Sara, let me have you like this,” I told her softly.

  She sank back into the mattress and spread her long legs. So I slid a second finger inside her and pressed them deeply. She grabbed my hair, “Tru.”

  I kissed her, sweeping my tongue inside her mouth and tasting her. Then I moved down, kissing all of her. One day I would know what it was like to suck her pretty nipples, but for now, they belonged to our son. Down her slender waist and used my shoulders to spread her thighs wider. I removed my fingers and spread her open; about to find out if these set of lips were as sweet as the ones I’d just been kissing. I was no champ in this arena, but I knew enough. Judging by her reactions, I thought I was a god. Her legs shook, and her head snapped up in surprise as she came on my tongue.

  I moved back over her and shoved my cock inside her. Her eyes widened as she gasped loudly. It was great like this, no fuck that, it was amazing like this. Her soft tits and hard nipples pressed against my chest while her legs wrapped tightly around my hips. Sara’s face hid nothing, and it pissed me off that I had missed it every time we fucked before.

  I tried to go slow, but this was Sara. She dug her nails into my ass, slow and easy was done. We looked into each other’s eyes as I swore under my breath.

  “Sara.” I groaned, my concentration slipping. Was I always waiting for her? Damn right; I always would.

  Mitch

  “FUCKIN’ HELL.” WEST grimaced “That’s fucked up.”

  That room had never been so silent. You could have heard a mouse fart in it. Until West opened his mouth, and I repeated what Tru had told me.

  “He’s un-fucking-touchable!” KC slammed his hand on the table causing it to jump. It was solid oak, “We don’t know anyone doing time on the Fed’s dime.”

  It was true, outlaws did hard time, state time, none of us would know any white-collar criminals. Even if we did, those were the types that rarely wanted to get their hands dirty in the way we needed shit done.

  “Tru wants to blow it up.” There was nothing funny about it. My crazy ass brother would do it, no doubt.

  There were more than a few chuckles and a long, low whistle in the room.

  “Demolition like that would be an inside job.”

  The men got sidetracked on discussing how many explosives it would take for a building that size.

  “We ain’t blowing shit up!” I yelled louder than any of them. “Look my brother ain’t going to let this shit go, it’s up to us to find a way that doesn’t get him put away for life or the death penalty or blown all to fuckin hell and back.”

  “Well visitation is out, those places are secure, and you got to be on a list, plus they search you for contraband. If you go down that route, if you could go down it, then they would probably just take you straight from that visitation room to the dead dude’s cell, since it would be vacant.” Big added with his usual sense of humor.

  He received a few chuckles from the brothers.

  “Stop being a pussy, Big. All of us eventually do a little time inside.” West clipped.

  “Won’t be no short stretch. Committing murder on fed’s grounds. That’s a one-way ticket, asshole.” Big spat back. Testosterone levels were rising around the table.

  “Yeah straight to the electric chair.” Butch chimed in.

  “Shut it, Butch.” Several of them offered all at once.

  KC pointed his finger at him, “You’re a prospect, you sit there and fucking listen, you don’t say shit unless we ask you a question, Butch. You would think after prospecting for as long as you have, some shit would sink into that pretty boy skull. At this rate, you ain’t ever going to get your patch.”

  Butch sat there fuming but not saying shit.

  Animosity had grown between Big and Butch since they met years ago; joined at the same time. Both of them looked like they shared blood, but that’s where the similarities ended.

  “Need to pop my cherry sometime, I could go in Mitch. What makes a crime worthy of federal time?” Big offered; it was generous, and everyone at the Mayhem table knew that.

  “You got a little girl, man.”

  “But I won’t ever get to see her unless her mama stops being a psycho.” Just the mere mention of Big’s crazy-ass ex had the brothers shifting in their seats, partly because she was hot as hell, partly because she was more insane than my brother.

  “Why don’t you go rip some tags off of mattresses bitch?” Butch spat.

  KC did a lunging hip slide across the table, and he still wasn’t fast enough. Butch and Big were tearing into each other, “No fucking fighting in church!” someone yelled stupidly. We all knew that. Sometimes shit gets broken, even the rules.

  I looked at the club’s newly made Enforcer, “Preach?”

  He was rolling a cigarette, he raised an eyebrow at me “Yeah man?” His eyes looked like two bullet holes in a goat’s ass.

  I stood up, “Fuckin Christ! Can’t we have one damn meeting that doesn’t end in fists?”

  KC pushed them through the double doors, and they didn’t miss a beat or a punch.

  “That’s why we got the rule.” Preach lit up.

  “Lotta fucking good it does.” West sighed.

  The three big men barreled out of church; I saw Tru push Sara and the baby behind him. KC, our last enforcer and my current VP threw his hands up, “Fuck em.” He said towards me.

  Their mutual hatred had finally hit the breaking point. Brawls happened just like shit. The only thing to do now was to take bets on the winner. Let them fight it out.

  Tru stepped forward and tipped his chin at KC, “Do you know what’s the most useful lesson my dad ever taught me?”

  “What’s that, Tru?” KC glanced over at Sara and the baby.

  “Distraction.” Tru pulled down his zipper and took his cock out, “Hey bitches, I get the winner.”

  “What the fuck?” Big and Butch glanced at him and his big dick.

  Tru swung twice, two hits, and two bodies hit the floor. I knew my brother was a fighter, but fucking hell. It made me hurt hearing his fists connect with Butch and Big. He was so fast, too.

  Sara Jane

  “WHAT’S THAT SMELL?” I asked Tru; it was indescribable yet pungent, permeating the entire clubhouse.

  “Biker.” He gave me that teasing look, but I doubt he was.

  Mitch’s brothers, as he called them, were all huge. That had less to do with their actual physical size and more to do with their personalities. Although, the one they called KC was huge and terrifying, and that had everything to do with his presence. I knew better than to judge a book by its cover; I hated it when it happened to me.

  With a confidence that I didn’t know I possessed, and which I contributed entirely to Tru, I shook their big hands. Mostly they grunted and tipped their chins at me. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I could ask Tru later.

  Butch and that other blonde guy b
oth had black eyes, bloody noses, and busted lips.

  I didn’t know the other one, but I did Butch “It won’t hurt forever. You’ll heal as I did. I can get some ice or I have these pills for when I get migraines. I don’t know if I had those before, but the pills really help.”

  “Pills can’t fix him, Sara.” Mitch put his arm around me, moving me away from him.

  “He’s in pain, I just want to help. If Tru hadn’t helped me, I wouldn’t be here, our son wouldn’t be here.” It felt good to call him that, it felt true. “Shouldn’t I pay it back?”