Pyro's Final Flame : Twisted Iron MC

by Liberty Parker

  Her eyes close as I continually drive my cock deep inside her. “Yes!” she calls out. “Yours, Asher, I belong to you,” she answers through her whimpers of both pleasure and pain combined.

  Hearing her verbalize those words has me unravelling inside with desire to spill my seed. As her walls begin to pulsate and clamp around my dick, my orgasm rises from within and we come simultaneously as I empty my balls inside her tight pussy. I pump any remnants of my orgasm a few more times before I compliment her, “Well done, my little savage, well done.” A tiny whimper can be heard as I pull myself from inside her. Smacking her ass, she jumps slightly and her lips curl upward into a smirk as I tell her, “No need for all of that. I’ll be back inside there soon enough.” I walk over and grab us both a towel as she turns the faucet off. “Here, you’ll have to wear this upstairs to cover up. You have plenty of dry clothes in my room,” I advise.

  Taking the towel from my hand, she looks at me with discontent. “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously,” I answer, confused as to what she’s questioning.

  “You would have me covered only in this… cloth.” She pauses and eyes the towel up and down. “Flaunting my body through the clubhouse for all of your brothers to see?”

  I quickly step to her, placing my finger underneath her chin; my face nearly touching hers. My other hand tugs at the towel in her hand but I never remove my eyes from hers. “This cloth is more than enough to cover your body parts intended for my eyes only. As for flaunting? There will be none of that and my brothers are much more respectful than that, Shara.”

  She begins to towel dry her hair in a scrunching motion. “Your chin is still bleeding, DP.” She reaches out toward my face, but I pull back.

  “It happens. Not a big deal.”

  “I’m just saying, you might wanna think about having Stitches, well, see about putting some stitches in there,” she tells me, lowering her face from visual contact as she wraps the cotton towel around her body before picking up and wringing out her soaked clothing.

  “Nothing a little band aid won’t fix. I’ve had worse,” I remind her, “this is just another day at the office. Now, let’s go get you something dry to put on.”

  “Fine,” she huffs out as she begins to walk, “but I still think… oww, oww, oww.” She stops, pausing to cross and uncross her legs, looking uncomfortable.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Besides the fact that you just tore my girly bits up and I may be the one who needs stitches?” she questions rhetorically. “I will most definitely be walking all kinds of funny on the way to your room.” She glares at me, but it only brings a smile to my face.

  “Wonderful. So, for at least the next several hours every time you sit or move, you’ll be reminded of my presence and whose pussy that belongs to. And hopefully that will be the only thing you can think about instead of my damn chin,” I reply to her.

  Shara

  Pyro just left to go take care of his job. I’m still pouting and stomping around our house like a damn three-year-old. I need to hit something, draw someone’s blood from their skin, my fingers are itching with need. I wanted to confront Rogue earlier at the clubhouse, but DP dragged me from there before I had the chance to. Now, I’m restlessly pacing the house. I go from one end to the other, then repeat. My stomach is in knots, not from anxiety, but from the relentless energy surging through my system.

  I haven’t had the need to do this since Asher and I got together, but now, he’s off playing Pyro and I’m stuck here like a prisoner in her own home. Picking up my cell phone, I call my old friend, Jerrod, who was my handler and scheduler. He answers with our phrase when one of us calls each other, “The sky is blue.”

  “But my demons are dark,” I respond using the keywords he knows well to ensure him that I’m in need of a good fight. If I wasn’t looking for a fight I would've answered, what’s the score? Which basically means I’d be informing him I wanted to watch and place a few bets. Sometimes it’s enough for me to just be there and watching, tonight, I need to be in the inner ring.

  “Sending you coordinates to our location, Dragon. Be here in an hour.” Dragon is the name that was given to me as a moniker when I’m inside. That’s what Jerrod proclaims I become; a fire-breathing, uncontrollable opponent. Tonight, I’m going to remind everyone why that name being announced should bring fear to the person I’ll be drawing blood from.

  Quickly dressing into what I call my ‘stage attire’ which is a cute little ensemble of a sports bra containing flames, and red boy shorts that are tight to the skin, but stretchy enough for me to place a well-defined high kick without hindering my movements. I put on my flat surfaced high tops, ones that are specifically designed for boxing and pull a hoodie over my head. Grabbing a pony-tail holder, I throw it up on top of my head in a messy bun. Now, I’m ready to face someone in the ring without having to worry about some bitch pulling my damn hair. Grabbing my keys from the holder placed by the front door, I walk out and head to my muscle car. Recently, I’ve traded in my boring as fuck BMW for a Pontiac T-Bird. It’s metallic black with a gold eagle framing the hood. She has boosters and beats Pyro’s bike when she comes to life. She’s my speed demon, and I couldn’t be happier with her when the nights call for a race down the highway. I always open her up, force her to give me all she can. She never disappoints me; I’ve dubbed her Beast. I got her for an even trade with a man expecting his first child. He needed something practical, and I wanted something with speed. And my car, it purrs like a newborn kitten; that is until I place my foot on the accelerator, then it roars like a lion in the wild defending his pride.

  Taking the T-tops off, I get in and am instantly soothed with the wind blowing through my hair as I speed out of our driveway. There are no prospects guarding me tonight, the club isn’t in any real danger, so the freedom I feel, and the open road call me out, and my dragon begins to surface before I even make it to the designated arena. My phone is in my lap as the coordinates direct me to where I’m headed.

  When I pull up, excitement overwhelms me. It’s an old abandoned warehouse about thirty minutes from my residence. It’s an old sawmill which was abandoned years ago. My veins are throbbing and my muscles are tense; I’m enthralled with the blood-fueled lust dancing through my bloodstream. But I’m also calm, cool and collected as I make my way up to the man in charge of who enters and who doesn’t.

  “Name?” the man asks as I step up to him.

  “Dragon,” I respond then chuckle when his eyebrows draw up. My name and reputation precede me, even with the bouncers and ticket salesmen. He glances down at what appears to be a small photo in his hand and looks back up at me.

  “Jerrod is expecting you. Walk through these doors,” he indicates the ones behind him, “then turn left down the first hallway you come too. You’re in room number three which is marked. You’re to stay there until someone knocks three times on the door and calls out that you're up.”

  “Seems three is my lucky number for the night,” I state in a sultry voice. “Room three; three knocks. Let’s see if I can keep that going and knock out my opponent in three hits.” I wink at him as I pass by, tempted to place my finger underneath his hanging jaw as I continue along the path he’s provided. Stunning people with my size and looks is always fun. Especially when my attitude, and playful side, immerse as one. I don’t physically come across as intimidating, but once I let my anger fly, I’m not a woman to be trifled with. I’ve been known to make grown men pee their pants from verbal sparring alone.

  Following his directions, I make it into my room where Jerrod is waiting on me. “What do we owe the pleasure of your appearance tonight, Dragon?”

  “Let’s just say I’m pissed off and ready to draw some blood and make someone weep. I always do love it when they beg me to stop, don’t you?”

  “You’re going to make me a killing tonight. Hopefully it’s just financially and I don’t have to call my cleaners in,” Jerrod harrumphs a laugh.

/>   “I make no promises and will spout you no lies, Jerrod.” With my mood, there’s no telling if I’ll be willing to give even an inch. Anger is coiling through my veins. I’ve felt the need to hurt someone since my DP announced that I’d stay home, playing housewife while he went and had all the fun… fun that should’ve been mine to participate in.

  I blame him for these feelings running through me. He introduced me to a life that kept my dark side at bay, then ripped it away from me as a punishment. If he won’t give me what I need, I’ll find it someplace else. Fuck him, fuck Rogue, and fuck the job that they dangle over my head.

  Pyro

  It was an easy night. Stephen Grey, a child pornographer that the law was unable to touch was eliminated by my hands. An hour, in and out, including his torture, cleaning up, and leaving. The funniest part of the evening is when I made him pose nude and took a dozen or so photos of him, ones that will be burned along with my clothing. Never leave any evidence behind that could get you locked up, Rogue stated when he was training me to take over this line of business for him. Words I’ve always held close to my chest as each job has been completed. I’ve replaced my wardrobe more than once.

  Walking into mine and Shara’s home, I expect her to be waiting on me with hands on her hips; ready for a verbal showdown. Instead, I walk into a dark house with no signs of my wayward woman. I do a quick sweep of the house just to check and see if she’s asleep, or hiding from me. Heading behind the house where she keeps her car parked, I notice that it’s missing. My blood boils as I realize that she’s either run, or is throwing a temper tantrum and making me worry over her well-being. I hate these fucking games women tend to play. My fists ball up as my arms dangle at my sides. I want to punch a hole in the wall, but since I’m the one that’ll have to fix it, I reluctantly keep from doing so. Grabbing my phone, I text Shadow. Trace my woman’s phone. I want to know where she is now.

  As soon as the text goes through, my phone rings. I’m surprised to see that I have an incoming call from Pee Wee. “Don’t have time, man. My woman’s pulled a disappearing act. Gotta locate her.”

  “Well, I may have an answer as to where she is, brother,” he hesitantly states. “I’m not sure if it's her or not. She may have a look alike, but Shadow and I came to the fights tonight. As we were leaving, we could’ve sworn we saw Shara. We turned around and I headed back in to check indoors. I drew the lucky straw to call you while Shadow scans the parking lot for her car. This is crazy, brother. The timing of it all that is. Your text came through at almost the exact moment this all happened.”

  “And?” I get antsy waiting on him to get off his ass and tell me whether or not they’ve concluded this mystery woman is in fact Shara. “Do you think it’s her?” As I ask this, I have another call come through. Pulling back my phone to see who it is, I huff out a breath when I see it’s Rogue. “Man, gotta take this other line, it’s Pres.”

  Without waiting on a response, I hang up on Pee Wee and answer Rogue’s call. “Pres,” I answer his call respectfully, even though I’m feeling anything but.

  “So, I’ve just been informed that your old lady has been spotted at the fighting arena, huh?”

  “Wait. What the fuck? How do you know?” I question his knowledge as I grab the keys to my bike and scramble around the house seething with anger.

  “Shadow just informed me. Look, Pyro, don’t go doing anything hasty out of anger. I’ll meet you at your place and we’ll ride together. Go shut that place down for the night and get your woman out of there,” he says to me in a calm and collected tone.

  I take a deep breath and blow it out before I respond, knowing my words could very well get me into a world of trouble. “With all due respect, Pres, this is my old lady and nothing about this particular situation directly involves the club. So, if you really wanna help me, you’ll find a way to be understanding and forgive my decision,” I reply before ending the call and heading out the door.

  The disrespect I just showed Rogue may get a fist planted to my face, but at this time, the only thing rolling through my mind is finding my woman and reddening her ass with my handprint. The feelings soaring through my bloodstream leaves my common sense on the back burner. In the back of my mind, I know that Shara is considered ‘club,’ but I couldn’t fucking care less. She’s mine to deal with, to contain, to force to abide by the laws laid down by Rogue, one he highly expects the old ladies to follow. And if they don’t, us as their old men, we pay for their actions. We are one-hundred-motherfucking-percent responsible for their insubordination. If Shara’s done anything, gotten involved in something that could hurt the club or cause blowback on us in any way, my punishment from Rogue will be turned on her.

  Speeding down the road, I can’t seem to chase away the disgruntlement I feel toward her. I wanted to be calmed down before facing off with her, but that doesn’t appear to be in the cards. The closer I get to her; the more I simmer with uncontrollable rage. As soon as the coordinates that Shadow sent me earlier say I’ve reached my destination; I turn into the parking lot. Going down the rows of cars, I find my woman’s vehicle and back my bike next to it. My hands are shaking as I unlatch the straps then place my helmet on my handlebars. Striding to the front door, I’m stopped by a man who scowls at me then my cut. “We don’t want any trouble here tonight,” he boldly states, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Let me pass or I’ll show you the meaning of trouble, friend,” I hiss out the last word.

  “I’m not your friend, buddy,” he seethes.

  “Great, we’ve established the fact that we’ll never be friendly. Yeah? Didn’t claim we were gonna paint each other’s nails and shit, buddy. But, my girl and my brothers are in there, so you will let me pass if you know what’s good for you and this place,” I say through a clenched jaw. The loud roar of another bike can be heard off in the distance and approaching quickly. As the sound grows louder and begins to ring my eardrums, I turn and notice Rogue pulling into the parking lot. Turning back to my newly proclaimed nemesis, I tell him, “I tried to warn you. There’s already two of us inside, and now another two of us outside. We can make it the entire club if you’d like?”

  “Who’s your woman?” Fuckface asks me.

  “Shara,” I quickly answer, growing tired of this song and dance.

  “Don’t recognize that name, buddy. So, why don’t you take the highway back the way you came.”

  “Not so quickly,” Rogue issues the order. “My brothers are in there, and they say that his old lady is indeed in there, so let us pass or we’ll force your hand.” Rogue isn’t playing around and he makes that fact well-known reaching behind his back where his gun is tucked away.

  The non-compliant man in front of us quickly reaches to his side and I retrieve my pistol and have it aimed between his eyes before either of them successfully draw their weapons. “It’s an unfair match, motherfucker. Don’t even fucking blink wrong or I’ll blow your brains clear across this pavement.”

  It’s a momentary standoff as he has his pistol aimed at Rogue and we both have ours locked and loaded onto him. “He ain’t lying and I need a goddamn cigarette. It’s been forty-five fucking minutes since my last smoke and all hell broke loose. And, I turn into a grumpy asshole when I need a smoke. Put the gun away you fuck,” Rogue spits out his words with an enormous amount of venom. Suddenly, our non-compliant opponent becomes compliant, and as he begins to stow away his weapon, I pistol whip him directly on his temple; knocking him completely unconscious. Rogue lowers his gun and pulls a smoke and zippo from inside the front corner of his cut, lighting it. “Some just always have to learn the hard way,” he says with the lit tobacco hanging from his lips.

  “The hard way is the fun way,” I shrug my shoulders as I laugh under my breath. “I love it when people need lessons taught.”

  “Enough with the chit-chat, let’s go see what the fuck your woman has been up to tonight. Shouldn’t she have been with you on the job?” he inquires, looking over
at me as he leans down, retrieving the gun from the side of our enemy.

  “She needed a time out,” I explain. “I took the liberty of making that decision. I don’t want to get into the details, but I needed to have some time alone. Used it as my opportunity to do so.”

  “Enough said, I understand.” But I don’t think Rogue does by the look he’s sending me.

  “Might’ve blamed you. Told her that you issued for me to take this one solo.” I feel a hit on my shoulder once the last word leaves my mouth.

  “Were you planning on informing me of this fact before we walk into your angry woman’s presence?” I can tell Rogue is ready to put me in my place.

  Being the idiot that I’m portraying today I answer, “Maybe, maybe not.” Not wanting to hang around for the asshole to wake up, I step over him and open the shut doors that will lead me into the warehouse.

  I’m wearing blinders to everyone surrounding me, the only person I’m seeking out is my woman. A woman who has a lot of answers to account for while answering my questions.

  6

  Shara

  “Dragon you’re up,” I hear hollered through the door after three quick succession knocks. I just finished wrapping my hands with the tape to secure my wrist, I stand up and do a few quick jumps in place. This is to amp up my heart rate and get my blood circulating. Clearing my mind of outside thoughts, I get myself focused on the enemy that will be in my face shortly. Walking out to the hallway followed by the team assigned to me by Jerrod, I tilt my head from one side to the other in order to loosen my shoulders and neck muscles. I’m mentally prepared and physically in tune with my mind. I become one entity; body, heart and soul. You have to be in order to not be defeated in the ring.