by Dane, Ryder
The large tent that was a military Field Officer’s style, sat squarely in the center. They could plainly see two men flanking a bearded older man heading for the tent. Seven others lined up behind the shelter, all of which would scare anyone in their right mind.
“Stay on the Tryke. Don’t get off unless I call you, I mean it. I won’t want to bust you one in front of these people, but I will. You need to believe that, I will do it. Everything you say after the fact will be held suspect, so do us both a favor, just do as I’ve told you.”
She believed him. He wouldn’t hit a woman in anger unless he had no choice, at least not that she could feel. He was also giving her protection if something bad happened. Four of the men, including the club’s VP, Butch, stayed with the bikes and her, the rest followed a few paces behind him as they walked out to meet Lucifer’s Breed’s President, and his men.
Big Dog moved forward and his men went with him. It surprised her to see Demon and Knight stayed outside, while Freakshow and Seth went in with their Prez. The waiting began. There were no friendly words exchanged between the two clubs’ members, only intimidating stares. An hour went by, then another, the men waiting to fight if needed took turns sitting on the grass and standing. One of the club’s scantily clad bitches took a case of brew out to the Bastards, she got swats on the ass and offers to allow her to take care of their other thirsts.
Freakshow came out of the meeting and walked back to where Butch was waiting, after few minutes of discussion, the VP nodded his head and the two men came over to her.
“Get down, and try not to act like a martyr. You are a witness, and it's show and tell time. All you have to do is tell your story, don’t argue, don’t elaborate, and for God’s sake don’t show disrespect to anyone in the room. This is your chance for the revenge that Big Dog says you want, don’t fuck it up.”
Freak led her into the tent, and she could feel the tension the Bastards were hiding so well. The bearded man must be the President of Lucifer’s Breed, and the others his lieutenants. Those were his most trusted allies along with his bodyguards. Just the same as any club, the President surrounded himself, many times they were VPs, Sgts at Arms, and Suits, or Lawyers.
Big Dog nodded at her, looked at his counterpart, and introduced her as Oracle.
“She was there the night of the meeting, she saw everything.” He turned his attention back on her and said, “Talk, tell us everything that happened that night and afterwards.”
The bearded President piped up, “Hang on a minute, if you’re going to waste my time bringing your fuck doll here to shovel shit in my lap, forget it.”
Big Dog shook his head, “I haven’t tapped that yet. I might at some point, but I have more important things to think about than trying to fuck this up by screwing a witness. One that took almost three years to track down. There’s no history here.” He nodded at Future.
Future talked, she looked at the bearded leader and kept her eyes on his. “Everyone was drinking, and those who had partners available, were having sex. Frenchy was playing his guitar by one of the campfires, everything was peaceful. The bikes ran over bedrolls, scattered stuff, and the men shot tasers at random people. One of your men carried a sawed-off shotgun and I heard it go off, but didn’t see who got hit. I was almost to the bikes when Dorsey grabbed me and shoved me behind him to get the two Breed off his ass that were chasing him.
“Reeker and several others forced themselves on me, when I fought back, he punched me out. The next thing I knew, I was tied to a hook in a cabin by a wide leather collar and a leash. They made me watch as they beat Frenchy to death, and Reeker hung Frenchy’s body upside down by his feet. They made me watch as they kicked his head into hamburger.” She was doing her best not to vomit from the remembered smell of blood and the sight of Frenchy when they’d finally finished with him.
“Jarl, Reeker, Mule and another man that I never heard his name, they held me there for over three weeks, torturing and violating my body. The last night I think they planned to kill me, but wanted to have their fun first.” She went on with her story and told them about waking up in the hospital. She stood with her hands at her sides, waiting to be dismissed.
Bearded man smiled at her. “Now let me get this straight, Jarl and Mule claimed to be the club President and Vice?” At her nod, he continued, “So, you had sex for a few weeks with my boys, and had to tell your old man the reason you played rabbit and ran that night. Rather than tell him the truth, you make up a story about abuse and being tortured for sympathy. So now you have to keep the story, right?”
The six men in the room were staring at her. All she had to prove her words were the scars she carried. She didn’t want to do what had to be done, thinking of the revulsion she knew she would see once they saw her scars was enough to make her want to run, but the only way to gain what she wanted was to do it.
She began with her boots, and shimmied out of her tight jeans. Her colors were handed to Freakshow and she stared at the skeptical leader of Lucifer’s Breed, as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, then straightened up and dared him to say she had enjoyed one minute of the torture his men had done to her. She stepped back two steps to let them see the whole front and turned around slowly to stare at the canvas wall behind her. She let them look their fill, and raised her hands to pull her long hair to the front of her body, so the men could see the carved words in her skin, half of which were melted together in a grotesque mess of shiny purple and red skin. She heard “Holy fuck, did he actually carve wings in her shoulders? FALLEN and an A and an N.” There were other words, but when she heard someone gagging, she hung her head. She had to turn and face them again, had to tell them there was more, and she knew she was crying, but silent tears were all she had to help her relieve the hurt their words and the humiliation their lack of trust in her word carried.
“There is more if you need to see them. The nails they used to pierce my, my, they used nails. The police have them. I no longer have a spleen, and I had lost so much blood, the doctors were ready to pronounce me when I got to the hospital. You can get the records with all of your contacts I am sure.”
Big Dog was mad, she looked at him when he stood and stomped over to her, jerking her t-shirt from Freakshow and placing it in her hands. “Get dressed, if they need to see more they can fuck themselves.” He told Seth to take her back to the bike and get her a drink.
The leader of Lucifer’s Breed said “No, let her stay,” and said something low to his men. One left, and she got dressed the rest of the way, stuffing her bra into the waistband of her pants, because she wasn’t about to take the shirt off again. She didn’t know where to look, or what she was supposed to do, so she stood where she was, and waited. The small leather case that contained her ID and credit card had fallen to the ground and she looked up to thank Freakshow for finding it. She was gratified to see he wasn’t repulsed by her. He gave her a small smile, and nodded. That had to have hurt the normally frozen faced “Goth Daddy” as she thought of when she thought of him.
Big Dog spoke and she watched Lucifer’s Breed’s people as he addressed their leader. “We didn’t come here to have a war, but we will be happy to oblige if you are still skeptical about our reasons for keeping your boys on ice until this meeting. The question is, what are you going to do about it?” He sent Seth to get the truck.
They heard the powerful motor of the three quarter ton Ram as it backed up to the line where the Bastards' bikes were parked.
Fires had been built due to the darkness, and the two lieutenants were told to go bring in the crates, Big Dog called their leader by name. “Wolfman, this is my gift to Lucifer’s Breed, what you do with it determines how these negotiations end.”
The crates were too big to be opened in the tent, so they hauled them back outside. They were set close to one of the open campfires, and two of the Breed opened the lids with pry bars. Jarl was in the first crate, naked, with his hands and ankle
s duct taped together. The wide tape was plastered over his mouth, and the leader reached down and yanked it off.
There were a few small bruises on his face, but the rest of him wasn’t marred in any recent way. The burn scar on his lower cheek and jaw was coffee colored, but that wasn’t new. Two of Wolfman’s crew stood him upright in the box, but no one moved to cut the bindings holding him in place.
They opened the second crate and found Reeker in similar shape. Mule was brought to the campfire by two burly men, and until he saw Future standing on the opposite side of the fire, he hadn’t resisted his captivity. The back of his head carried scars from the fire, his hair was gone, and the scars had been tattooed over.
She’d thought the men died in the fire, but obviously, the fourth man must have saved them, and dumped her in that field. Her fists clenched and released. She wanted to hurt them, she wanted to break every bone in Jarl’s body, cut his dick off and listen to him scream and beg for mercy.
The man called Wolfman approached Jarl and backhanded him. “You told me the Chiefs and the Bastards attacked our men. You told me they came into our territory and attacked our people, stole the money that belonged to the club.” Each time Wolfman knocked the big man down, two Breed pulled him to his feet. “You have never been a President, an enforcer, or a goddamned anything but trouble. You disgraced our club, you kill people for fun, and we all know I have no problem with killing an enemy, everyone knows that.
“When you use an enemy’s woman, I consider that spoils of war. You don’t fuck up a helpless woman like you did. What kind of man has to keep a woman chained like a fucking dog? You use them and lose them, you don’t torture them for fun. Not like that. I could maybe deal if she was an evil bitch that caused personal problems for you, this shit ain’t nothin’ but psycho shit, and we got enough psychos.”
Where the Prez of Lucifer’s Breed pulled his dagger from Future didn’t see, she did see the blade shoved between Jarl’s ribs. She saw the blade when Wolfman handed the hilt to her and told her to, “Carve the coward up, but don’t kill him yet.” She saw the evil bastard’s eyes fill with fear when she fulfilled her fondest wish, the dagger was nice and sharp, and Jarl screamed before she handed the weapon back to its owner.
She didn’t hear the groans from the crowds of men. She felt something deep inside let loose, and her spirit lighten. She surprised the man by politely thanking him. “You have no idea, no idea, of the nightmares I’ve suffered. Thank you.” She walked back to stand between Demon and Charlie. The temptation to use that dagger to its fullest potential on both Jarl and Mule was strong, but she knew she wouldn’t have been able to finish the job without pissing off the embarrassed Breed President. His concession to her would have to be good enough.
Mule was dealt with in a similar fashion, but no repeat offer came from the Breeds. They got the name Fred as the fourth man in the cabin that night. Fortunately for Fred, he’d died last year on a run, when his tires hit some gravel that had been shoved onto the pavement by a road truck or something. The lids on the wooden crates were nailed down. Reeker was another story.
His crate was given to Mule, but they had no intention of giving him the dirt nap. His cut and clothing was taken from the crate before the lid was nailed down, and he was cut loose from the duct tape bindings. “”I’m not doing this because of the split tail, that was spoils of war, I’m not doing this because of the death of the Bastards man either. This is for lying to the club, to me, and pretending to be something you’re not. Makes me think you might have designs on my back. You are done, your name will be stricken from any records as a member. You’re gonna be shunned, any member seen with you, or that wishes to back you, will suffer the same fate. We are men, not fucking cowards like your friends there.”
Wolfman handed Reeker’s cut to his lieutenant, and the man tossed it into the closest fire. They turned their backs to the lone man who was dressing, and appearing to be holding back tears. Whether tears of relief at not suffering the fate his friends did, or for the loss of a club that was his family for over half of his lifetime, no one cared to question him. He began walking from the field and no one paid attention to him again, his bike would be outside the gates of the club when he got there.
The Presidents and their lieutenants went back to the tent. By six o’clock in the morning, they were all headed back to their clubs. There would be another meeting to solidify the truce, and an infancy of an alliance, but for now, everyone was satisfied with the outcome of the meeting.
Future didn’t argue or get into one of the trucks on the way back, she climbed onto the bitch perch of the Tryke and let the cool autumn wind blow away any lingering doubts in her mind that her nightmare had been put to rest. She didn’t delude herself into believing the bad dreams would end, but she knew they would not be as intense, and hopefully they would lesson over time.
Chapter Seven
All the way back to the club, Big Dog thought about the woman at his back. Seeing the scars she carried only bothered him when he thought of the suffering she had gone through, and lived to show and tell. Even that bastard, Wolfman, saw through her ‘fuck you’ attitude and felt some compassion. His words and actions, letting her use his personal blade to maim the motherfucking scum, Jarl, showed the man carried a small bit of humanity in his soul somewhere.
He knew confronting Wolfman with a witness was the only way to open the communication between the clubs. Now the counties between the clubs would be considered neutral territory. He’d been as shocked as everyone else in the tent to see Future strip down to her panties to prove her words. Her body must have been perfection before the imprisonment.
He’d been attracted to her before now, but he wanted to give her time to get used to him. Women either backed off after seeing his prick, or they viewed it as a challenge. He knew that if he tried to romance her now, she would think he was either a freak that got off on her scars, or he felt sorry for her. The truth was he wanted her—period. Demon and Knight both told him she had something about her that made a man want to lay down with her and fuck until neither of them could move. He’d laughed at the time, walking away from offered pussy was never a problem for him. If he was in the mood to have sex, all he had to do was snap his fingers in the club. There was always a house cat or a bitch as some called them at the club, or even a fluffer looking for a little action. Though a house cat was looking to eventually settle down with a brother.
Since the incident with her disappearing act, Demon told him that he had decided he wanted someone more docile and submissive. He was a dominant, and had no plans to change his ways, even for a woman like Future.
Knight hadn’t changed his mind about her, he confessed to having a lingering passion for her. “It’s fucked up, man, I don’t want to lock down with her, I just want to fuck her. Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice enough, and I like her, but she is too independent for me to have as an old lady. I need a woman that needs me; that one doesn’t need anything from anybody.”
Big Dog wasn’t sure he liked the idea of being led into a full out relationship, but he was planning a private thank you party for her before she drove away on her pussy bike.
They got to the club and everyone went their separate ways. Future was eyeing the sofas in the lounge, but found herself pulled out of the back door and led to one of the duplexes behind the main building. Big Dog pushed her through the doorway and followed her inside. The place was sparsely furnished with two recliners and a small love seat. A 55-inch flat screen took up one entire wall, and there was a long skinny table between the spots to sit. A small kitchen that sported a toaster, a stack of paper plates, and a Bunn coffeemaker on the short counter, was best described as functional.
She headed for the two closed doors and was thankful to find the bathroom on the first try. Seeing the shower and a stack of folded towels, she didn’t resist the temptation. She reached over, locked the bathroom door, and stripped before she could change her mind. She felt dirty after her
show and tell, and all she had thought about was a hot shower to wash the feelings of humiliation away. The heated water would also help relax the muscles in her back, hopefully enough for her to be able to sleep for a few hours before she hit the road home.
By the time she was dressed and ready to leave the room, she was wide awake. It would take a couple more hours before she would be in dreamland, although she hated the thought of staying another night, it was something to consider. She still had to ask Big Dog if she had paid a high enough penalty for him to release her bike.
She smelled fresh brewed coffee, headed for the pot, and the mug next to it was filled within seconds. A box of sugar packets sat on the counter and next to them was creamer packets. Tearing open two of the sugar packets made her think of Crazy Charlie, and the prank she’d played on Demon and Knight. She had a small ‘ha ha’ moment when she remembered the greed in the waitress’s eyes, and wondered if she would ever find out if Charlie had gotten a little ‘extra’ special somethin’ that night.
Big Dog was still in the living room area watching the morning news shows when she walked over to sit and drink her coffee. He shut the TV off and sat back, drinking from his own mug, and asked how she felt.
“I hope you don’t mind, I took a shower. I needed to feel clean. I do feel much better now though.”
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, cradling the warm mug in his hands. “How long do you plan to stay?”
The question brought her out of her thoughts about him. “I guess I’ll get a few hours of sleep today and hit the road before it gets too late. If I oversleep, I’ll leave tomorrow morning, as long as a certain bossy club President gives my bike back and I have his blessing to leave.” She gave him a small smile. “I wouldn’t want to break any more rules after all.” He nodded and sat back in the deep cushioned chair and she asked, “Can I ask you a personal question?”
