SACRED GRIP

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by Allen, J. C




  SACRED GRIP

  J.C ALLEN

  SYNOPSIS

  Finally, Eve is mine.

  I almost let the Black Falcons fool me. I almost let them win.

  The Savage Saviors rescued me. Eve let me back in. And now, she’s mine once more.

  But good things cannot last forever.

  The Black Falcons’ founder is still out there.

  The man responsible for taking my entire family from me.

  And now, he’s getting bolder by the second.

  For Eve’s sake, for the Saviors’ sake, and for my sake, I can’t allow him to live a second longer.

  Whatever it takes, by whatever means necessary, I will kill him and the Black Falcons.

  I will have my revenge.

  And this time, I will keep Eve forever.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Derek

  2. Eve

  3. Derek

  4. Eve

  5. Derek

  6. Eve

  7. Derek

  8. Eve

  9. Derek

  10. Eve

  11. Derek

  12. Eve

  13. Derek

  14. Eve

  Epilogue, Pt. 1

  Epilogue, Pt. 2

  Prologue

  Three and a Half Years Ago

  The clock had struck midnight, and my promised delivery had not yet arrived.

  I stared at my watch with some bemusement at my guards, who looked nervous that the promised arrival had not yet happened. Tonight would mark a special occasion, and yet with the clock having passed the hour of a most opportune celebration, to say I felt upset was an understatement.

  Not that my men would know that, of course. To show emotion was to show weakness, and I never showed weaknesses. The Black Falcons didn’t deserve to have weaknesses.

  But that didn’t mean I couldn’t verbalize my frustration and disappointment.

  “Gentlemen,” I said. “As I understood, I requested that my gift be delivered to me an hour ago. It is now after midnight. Does anyone care to explain to me why your peers are so ineffective that they cannot even provide me something so simple?”

  No one dared to say a word. This was typical, and I didn’t mind one bit. I got quite a thrill out of seeing everyone look like they want to speak, but not having the courage to do so.

  We had a healthy level of fear of me here in the Black Falcons, just as I liked it.

  “You are tasked with hunting down someone, bringing them here, and allowing me to have my reward. You are tasked not with capturing a special ops force, not with capturing a high-ranking official, but with capturing an old man who barely has the wrists to ride a chopper, let alone use a gun. And yet you cannot accomplish this?”

  Again, no one spoke. Again, I relished the level of fear this club had for me.

  But I did not relish this delay. I had a gun with three bullets in it, just in case one didn’t do the trick—but I was rapidly approaching the point where my gun could not just sit there idly anymore. At some point, a trigger would have to get pulled.

  And when I checked my phone to see if anyone had alerted me that the package was en route and I saw that no one had, I decided that that time was now.

  “Perhaps this will encourage your fellow members,” I said, pulling my gun out and clicking the safety off.

  And that’s when I heard three bikers pull up just out of sight, near the stairwell to this abandoned subway station that I had “reserved” for this special occasion.

  “Fortune has smiled upon you, gentlemen,” I said as I lowered the gun. “But it has not signed upon Dominick Knight.”

  And if it has, then fortune shall smile upon no man at all in this room.

  I waited for the bikes to kill their engine before listening closely. I needed to hear that muffle, that dragging of legs and limbs, that symphony of groans and pains.

  Oh, what a beautiful sound it was.

  There was nothing quite like going to bed to the sound of the screams of your enemies, or waking up to the dying gasps of your rivals.

  At that moment, I did not quite get the epic masterpiece of Dominick’s dying breath. But I did get the pleasurable grunts of a man being dragged down the stairs against his will, even if his will had nothing left to fight with. He was a man who knew he was going to die, and yet could not muster the energy to fight back and make a show of it.

  Two of my men turned, dragging Dominick by the arms. He was conscious, but his head hung low. I saw blood all over his body, as if my boys had had to shoot and pummel him into coming here.

  Good enough. As long as he lived and as long as I got to be the one to deliver the final death blow, I allowed them to take whatever measures were necessary to bring him here.

  They dropped Dominick before me. I holstered my gun—that would come at my own time—squatted down, and lifted the chin of Dominick to me.

  “Frank Young,” Dominick said.

  “Dominick Knight,” I said, patting his cheek with more aggression than needed—not that he could do anything about it. “For a man in his seventies, you’re a hard motherfucker to find.”

  “And for a fatass who’s not going to make it to his seventies, I could say the same to you.”

  As tempting as it was to strike Dominick and kill him right there for the snide remark, I kept my cool, snickered, and patted his cheek again. Such a display of uncouth behavior was a good way to lose control of my men.

  “It’s funny you should say I won’t make it to that age,” I said. “Perhaps that is true. But I know it is true for your sons. And, should I add, your wife.”

  “You fuckin’ shit!”

  I just laughed. Dominick spit in my face, but it was so weak and so pathetic I could only laugh more before I actually slapped him, dropping him to the ground.

  “Look at you, Dominick,” I said. “You know, this could have easily been avoided. All these years, you could have simply said, ‘you were right, Frank. You were right.’ And then, all would have been forgiven. The Black Falcons and the Savage Saviors would reunite—under my rule, of course, but at least there would be no bloodshed.”

  I looked down with mock pity, bent over, and picked him up by his hair, drawing another groan.

  “But instead, you had to stick by your outdated ethics, your insufferable morals, and your naive belief in people, all for what? Avoiding profit, preventing growth, and missing out on opportunities to enrich your man? Well, I suppose it has gotten you one thing. It got you one last audience with me tonight.”

  “I rode and served with value, unlike you, Frank,” he responded. I was rapidly reaching the point of just shooting the motherfucker in the face. “You used to be my most trusted. I sincerely believed you would serve us for life. I raised Dustin and Derek to believe in you!”

  “And that was your greatest mistake,” I said, letting him drop to the ground. “It is a mistake that your boys seem less likely to make, but fortunately, they do not have your years of experience or, I must begrudgingly say, the will you had to execute your actions as need be.”

  “You’re so kind.”

  “I know,” I said. “It’s why if you would learn to shut your mouth and stop being so pompous and holier than thou, I may yet give you a quick death.”

  A tense silence filled the room. It was not lost on me that many of my men had once served Dominick Knight in the Savage Saviors, and that perhaps a few of them still sympathized with him or liked him, even if they had deliberately left the club. Tonight’s “show,” then, would be as much for them as it was for my own gratification.

  “My only regret with tonight, Dominick, is that you will not live to see the fall of the Saviors,” I said. “But surely, you already know it is coming. You are not immor
tal, and even if you were, your own limitations prevent you from defeating us. Dustin is too bloodthirsty for me to have any control; he shall be manipulated like a puppet. And Derek? What of that boy? He is as soft as a cat under the morning sun. I will have a greater challenge landing a single bullet on the fat faggot of a lieutenant you have than I will killing him. And that fatass could be hit by a pistol from a mile away.”

  “No,” Dominick said. “No. Those same limitations give us discipline and strength. You have no rules, Frank, and so you have nothing to build off of. You—”

  I snapped, much to my chagrin immediately after. I kicked Dominick square in the face, jarring a few teeth loose as he coughed up blood. I casually dusted off my pants to show that the action had been deliberate.

  At least when I killed Dominick, I would have killed the one person capable of making me snap as I had.

  “Just kill me… already,” Dominick said, in between bouts of coughing up blood. “You know you won’t get anything else from me.”

  “So then tell me, Dominick, you are a man of power and choice,” I said, pulling out my pistol. “How would I have you die, hmm? Shot to the heart, like the song? Or bullet to the brain? Or perhaps some other creative way that—”

  “How did you get this way, Frank?”

  I arched an eyebrow at him, confused by this sudden sympathy ploy.

  “How did you turn into a sociopath? You used to care for my boys. Used to love them. And now? Look at you. Driven mad by hunger. You are—”

  I pistol-whipped him, dropping him again to the ground.

  “Hold him down!”

  Two of my most trusted men, Rock and Thunder, held his arms in place, preventing him from moving anywhere. I realized that a pistol was much too quick and holstered it back. No, this was to be much more violent—something that we could photograph and send to the remaining Knights as a warning of what was to come.

  “I have found the way that I will kill you,” I said, anger finally visible in my voice.

  “Never too late, Frank. Never—”

  Before he could say another word, I lifted my steel-toed boots and dropped all of my weight square onto Dominick’s skull. His head split instantly as his remains poured out onto the subway platform. There was no doubt he was dead.

  And there was also no doubt that I had no sympathy, no sorrow, no grief over the man that lay dead before me.

  He may have been my business partner for years. He may have been with me from the start. He may have taught me much of what I knew.

  But he was a flawed man, and the motorcycle club world had no room for flaws. You either compensated for them or you ignored them, but you sure as hell didn’t confuse them with moralistic boundaries that did nothing more than limit the size of the club.

  And for such flawed me, you killed them.

  “Understand this, gentlemen,” I said as I scuffed my boots on the ground, letting Rock photograph what I had done. “You do not cut off the head of a snake and let the body decay. You crush its soul and let it decay from within. Dominick was once the head, but before this night, he had become nothing more than a figurehead. Dustin, his son, runs the club. However, in killing the founder, we have crushed his spirit, making it that much easier to break their will and their lives.”

  Finally, for the first time all night and in a rare moment before my men, I smiled.

  “We have broken the spirits of the Savage Saviors tonight. We will continue to do whatever it takes to continue the death of this spirit. We will kill Dustin. We will torment Derek. And we will reign over this city once and for all.”

  1

  Derek

  God fucking damn!

  I mean… seriously… God fucking damn!

  How lucky could a guy get?

  How lucky could a guy get to have slaughtered his enemies, rescued his girl back, and repositioned the team he once barely felt qualified to lead? How lucky…

  I sounded like a broken record, but that was truly because all I could do in the face of the good luck I’d experienced was swear. My entire life, especially the previous four years, had known nothing but tragedy, hardship, and something worse than bad luck—cruel luck. I had come to expect nothing less.

  But today?

  Holy shit.

  I mean, sure, there were the aches and pains. Some stitches here, some splints there. But, hey, you couldn’t get something for nothing, right?

  It’d been an ugly show to get to this point, but the Savage Saviors, Eve, and I had sailed rough waters and found ourselves at a posh and tropical island paradise with all the luxuries to go with it. Now, all that remained was taking my lovely gal to an actual tropical paradise once we finished the job once and for all.

  It sure sucked to be the Black Falcons.

  And, as far as I’m concerned, if it sucked for the Black Falcons, then it was great news for the Savage Saviors, which meant it was fantastic news for me. That neighborhood operation to rescue Eve three weeks ago had really decimated them, knocking out much of their property, their manpower, and their reserves. We’d done quite a number on them.

  Plus, I got the girl. By that alone… God fucking damn!

  Since then, the Black Falcons had gone quiet. Whether this meant they were too injured to retaliate or if they were just biding their time for something big, I wasn’t sure, but I was, for the time being, content with the notion that they were shivering, whimpering, and licking their wounds like the mangy mongrels I thought of them as. Who wouldn’t be after the kind of attack we’d laid out on them?

  Cocky as I presented myself as, however, I couldn’t help but wonder how long the peaceful quiet would last and couldn’t help but wonder just how long things could stay normal. The Falcon was still out there somewhere, and as long as he lived, there was no calling it a day. It might be a week, it might be a month, it might be half a year, but at some point, the Falcon would come back, and he would not be a happy man.

  But as long as I had Eve Kellerman by my side, I could handle just about anything. No, not “just about.” I can handle anything.

  I glanced over at Eve, sleeping beside me in our bed. Our bed…

  That it had become so easy to think of it as “our bed” was something of a miracle in and of itself. Not only had I saved her, but as of a month ago, I’d just been a fucking wreck of a man. Now?

  Now was a hell of a lot different.

  I smiled, appreciating both the sight and the thought of her and my future with her, and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. She made a small sound and stirred in her sleep, a faint whisper of a smile growing across her face as she did. I stared in awe, taking in the small, subtle act as something almost divine.

  For a short while I just sat there and marveled at how beautiful she was. For a woman that had been through so much in life, had had an evil asshole of a brother, and had had the hell of working for the Black Falcons, she still had incredible natural beauty. She could wear makeup with the best of them, but even besides her body, she was a sight to behold.

  Then, as the tranquilizing effect of the moment wore down and emotional momentum demanded a fresh push, I smirked. Her body was nice… too nice to ignore.

  It had been a while since I’d given her my “special” wake-up call. And while I’d been hesitant to do it the first time, fearing that she would react in horror at such an unsolicited move, her begging me to do it had all but made it a pleasant morning surprise every once in a while.

  Careful to not wake her too early, I crept downward and then worked to slowly part her thighs. Once this was done to my satisfaction, I looked up to make certain that she was still asleep. Thankfully, she was—none the wiser.

  I grinned again, this time at the sight of her beautiful folds, perfect and waiting only a few tantalizing inches from me. They seemed to call my name, and my name only. Thank fuck we sleep naked.

  Almost like you planned it this way, Eve.

  Clever girl.

  Then, moving with a slow yet direct
intent, I began parting her lips with my fingertips, revealing my target.

  And there it was.

  I leaned in, running my tongue across her clit. I wanted the wakeup to come from the sensation alone and not my groans or moans. Any sounds I might make could potentially betray the effort, and where was the fun in that? After all, this was about Eve, not about me—though I had a feeling Eve would be more than happy to turn the tables after she’d finished “shutting off her alarm.”

  Through my forced silence, I heard a faint moan emanate from Eve’s parted lips—the sound faint and sleepy still, her body registering the first waves of pleasure but not yet seeing them as cause to stir from her slumber. I would have killed to know what she felt in her dreams or what her body felt, but now was no time to wake her up and ask.

  I smirked at her reaction and paused, waiting until the sound of her breathing dipped again. Then I repeated the action. Again and again, I leaned in and feasted for a few seconds and “work” before withdrawing and letting the effect subside.

  Bring the purring engine up to a low growl and then let it idle back to resting, I thought with a wide, mischievous grin. So that when it’s ready to fully engage, it’s roaring out of the gate.

  But that moment of full engagement was not something that I was going to rush. In fact, I was more than willing to sit here all morning. What did I have to do, work? No, I wanted to make this last.

  Her body began to invest more in each of my “swoops.” She had shifted in her sleep to be more flat on her back, her knees had parted even further on their own, and the muscles of her thighs had begun to tense ever so slightly in an effort to hold me in place. There was now a problem with my desire to keep Eve asleep.

 

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