The Stray Sister: Blades and Red Skulls (Hellriders Book 1)

by Amy Law

  Bear and Cracker were noncommittal and changed the subject. Soon Kit stepped out to the porch for a smoke. After a moment, Cracker followed him out.

  “You’ve done dope deals before, right?”

  “Sure, plenty.”

  “But none like this one.”

  The guy looked in Cracker’s eye and drew a long breath.

  Cracker laid a hand on the guy’s shoulder and looked hard into his brown eyes. Kit was about to speak when Cracker gestured with his finger to his lip, then he pointed to his ear, traced a line like a wire down to his breast pocket.

  Kit’s head shook as his face fell and aged. He looked in Cracker’s eye and drew a long breath before he shook his head and said, “No wire. That was meant to be next time. This visit was to set it up.”

  Cracker looked down the road towards the far horizon. “I heard about a girl,” he said, “Regular girl, worked nine to five in an office. Got caught up on some bullshit drugs rap. She was entrapped into buying a little personal quantity of pot.”

  He watched Kit as he went on, “Next thing she knew, she’s in a hard room with the FBI across the table. They say, ‘Wear a wire, help us nail this scumbag drug dealing biker gang, we’ll make the charge go away. We’ll tell you what to do, we’ll be watching you every step of the way.’”

  Cracker looked back at Kit and offered him a toke of the spliff. Kit took a long draw and said, “I got a kid. Little daughter, seven years old. Beautiful child. Her momma passed last fall. Now little Audrey’s got nobody but me.”

  Cracker thought for a moment. “So if you go down, what, she goes into care?”

  The biker looked at Cracker with an age of hopelessness in his eyes.

  Cracker told him, “Girl that I was telling you about? Didn’t have a clue what she was into. FBI set up a meet. Lord knows how. Sent her into it with a wire. They found her the next morning in a dumpster.” The guy took a long look down the road.

  Cracker said, “Thing is, bro, those entrapment raps, they’re no different from any other kind of blackmail. Just like any other blackmailers, they always say, ‘This is a one-time deal,’ but it never is. You do it once and they’ve got you. They own you then and they won’t ever let you go.”

  Kit looked at the ground and started fishing for his keys. He was turning to go when he stopped and looked back up at Cracker.

  “Listen, thanks, man. There’s other ways you could have dealt with this, and I’m grateful for it.”

  As the man was shuffling down the steps Cracker said, “Wait up,” and looked into the biker’s dull eyes. “An MC we have some associations with, they bring people in from Mexico. If you’d be willing to help them out on the other side, they’ll get you and Audrey across the border, no charge. Can’t say anything’s risk-free in this life, but they’ve been doing this for some time with zero problems to date.”

  Some light returned to the biker’s eyes. Cracker said, “Think about it. See Bear inside. Maybe we can arrange to collect Audrey from school tomorrow for you.”

  They gripped thumbs, Cracker gave the guy a hug and called him ‘bro’ again. Left him outside to think it over, not envying him one bit.

  The thing was, Jesska knew. She spotted something was off before the guy got three steps into the bar. How did she do that?

  Chapter 15

  Mary Ann cornered Cracker in the lobby at the back of the clubhouse. She held on to Cracker’s upper arm, her hands around his strong bicep. She looked up at him and said, “Bear asked me to do something, you know?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  She moved closer and pressed her breasts either side of his arm. “I wondered if you had any instructions for me. Anything more… detailed? Something a little more explicit maybe?”

  Cracker caught sight of Jesska darting away at the far end of the corridor.

  Chapter 16

  Jesska stepped out back for a smoke. Could she really have got him so wrong? Had she misunderstood Cracker’s intentions, had she completely misjudged him? Was there a huge part of the picture that she just wasn’t seeing?

  She watched the moon and the stars, wondering if she was kidding herself. She had allowed her feelings for Cracker to grow into something, but maybe it really was just one-sided.

  Was Cracker looking to take her for a ride? Did he see her as just another bitch to bend over his saddle when he felt like it? Her eyes stung. She kicked the dust and leaves around while she smoked one cigarette after another.

  There was some movement, a furtive rustling and some wordless sounds of voices slipping out of the doorway. Jesska moved quietly back into the shadows. She would have simply slipped back into the club, but some instinct made her stay hidden.

  Two figures moved into the bushes. A girl with a blonde cascade knelt in front of a stocky biker. They murmured in the bushes, with occasional sparkles of giggle and some grunts.

  She jiggled her tits against his crotch and opened her shirt to let them out. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his cock, and she pulled it between her tits. Jess felt sure that she recognized the female voice when she heard her say, “I can see the big news of this evening, lover. Tell me how it’s all going to out later tonight.”

  She couldn’t make out the man’s response, but she knew that he had to tell something as a price for his pleasure. His hips rocked and she rode her tits up and down on him until he started to groan.

  Jess still couldn’t make out what he said, but he got an “Oo-oo,” and a giggle for it, and she shoved his cock in her mouth and her head slid along the length of it.

  The biker’s hands gripped the girl’s head as his pelvis rocked back and forth, drawing his thick cock all the way into her mouth and back out again.

  He growled and groaned quietly as his movement lengthened and accelerated. He pulled the girl’s head deeper into his crotch. As he pressed his cock all the way into the girl’s mouth and threw his head back, Jesska recognized Mace’s beard.

  Mace’s hands gripped tight in the blonde curls as he shoved his hips at her face, stretching her red lips wide along his long, hard rail of fat flesh. He jerked her head into him as hard as he rammed his pelvis into her. Gurgling wet gagging squeaks eked out of the girl’s throat.

  Mace threw his head back and his knees bent and parted wider. He jammed his cock all the way into the girl’s mouth, all the way until her nose was squashed in the wiry bush of his pubes. His rasping grunt rolled as he gripped her hair and pummeled her face.

  Jesska caught her breath, her feet shifted and two heads turned to peer through the darkness towards her. With cum dripping from her mouth, Mary Ann looked directly into Jesska’s eye.

  Jesska melted swiftly back into the clubhouse to look for Cracker.

  In the middle of the packed bar, Jesska felt Mary Ann’s hand fall onto her shoulder and spin her around. The smoky stench of salty cum was on Mary Ann’s breath as she said, “You sneaking around now? Looking to spy on me?” Her eyes were red and wild.

  “Look, I’m…” Before Jesska could get a sentence out, Mary Ann lashed at her face. As Jess moved back, Mary Ann’s other hand grabbed Jesska’s hair. Jesska had no skills or experience in brawling or in hand-to-hand combat.

  Tiffany had tried many times to get her along to the judo and karate classes she took, but it didn’t appeal to Jess, and she had doubted whether all that formal training would be any use in a real fight where there were no rules. As Mary Ann yanked on Jess’ hair and yelled, “you bitch, you going to get what’s coming to you now,”

  Jess remembered the principle of using the opponent’s weight and strength against them. With the best timing she could manage, she waited until Mary Ann was pulling her hard, and then lunged towards her. Mary Ann shrieked as she went backwards and down to the floor. She landed on her back, and Jess was on top and astride her.

  Mary Ann tugged at Jess’ hair and her other hand flailed for something to use as a weapon, her arm with the Queen of hearts tattoo reaching in a wild arc. Her knees came u
p at Jess’ back, but Jess had her hips pinned. Jess grabbed Mary Ann’s hair and slammed her head against the floor. She noticed A bourbon bottle, was lowered from somewhere into Mary Ann’s free hand.

  She didn’t have time to look up, but she was sure those were Bear’s boots standing by Mary Ann’s arm. As Mary Ann tried to swing the bottle, Jess reached for the girl’s wrist. They rolled and Jess was on her back. She forced the momentum to roll them over again.

  She jammed her knee between Mary Ann’s thighs and pulled them back up to crouch in front of one another, Mary Ann’s hot, damp breath in Jesska’s face.

  Cracker was nearby with a look of concern in his eyes. Was it for her or for Mary Ann? He moved to intervene but Bear put an arm in front of him. Others nodded approval and the word ‘Catfight’ hissed around the room.

  Breathing hard and with her eyes aflame, Mary Ann’s grip tightened in Jess’ hair, pulling her head up. The arm with the bottle drew back and Jess hit her on the nose with her closed fist. As the blonde head went back and Mary Ann’s chin came up, Jess got all the weight she could behind the heel of her hand and drove it at Mary Anne’s jaw.

  The girl’s head snapped back and she hit it on the wood floor as she fell. She let go the bottle and it bounced to land by Jesska’s foot. Jess jumped down and straddled her again.

  Now what? Winning the fight in the MC clubhouse could be worse than losing. What would they expect her to do? The heavy bottle was in easy reach, but she didn’t want to kill or maim the stupid bitch.

  Mary Ann’s left hand shot at Jess’ face. Jess caught her wrist with her hand and stopped the long nails less than an inch from her cheek. By reflex she hefted the neck of the bottle.

  Bear reached towards her but Cracker put a hand out in front of him.

  Cracker’s voice was deep and warm in Jess’ ear, “That’s probably enough now, little wildcat.” His hand on her shoulder reassured her and she got up, slowly. Mary Ann took longer to rise and Cracker watched as she stood close to Bear, leaning against the big barrel of his chest.

  Without taking her eyes off the blonde, Jess asked, “You know what this is really about, Cracker?”

  There was a smirk in his voice as he said, “Ain’t it just a regular catfight? I figured you was scrapping over me.”

  “Ask her whose hose she was inhaling outside,” Jess hissed.

  Bear should have stopped Mary Ann. When she lunged at Jess, Cracker put a hand up, right in her face. “Don’t make me have to stop you, Mary Ann.”

  Her voice was hard as glass, “This is between me and that saddle whore.” Bear held her back, but the look on his face suggested that he might let her go at any second. Jess wondered why Bear had been so quick to take her side.

  Cracker spoke quietly, “Sounds like you might explain about the one person I see conspicuously absent from in this room right now, Mary Ann.”

  Quiet dropped like a sheet over the noisy room, like it does when someone says something perfectly wrong. The whole bar heard the door click and the clunk of Mace’s boots as he stepped in from the back.

  An understanding passed from Cracker’s eyes to Bear’s, and the club picked up on it. In the clink of a glass the atmosphere was back to normal, or it at least felt and sounded normal.

  The moment of tension had been so brief that when it passed it was like it had never happened. Mace showed no sign of having detected it as he returned to his place by the bar. He sounded perfectly relaxed when he told Gyro, “This beer got warm, bro. Bring me another.”

  Chapter 17

  Cracker led Jess to his room. She was still sore and breathing hard. Jess expected a pit with piles of stale pizza and staler underwear, and she was surprised. The room was sparse, neat and clean. The table and dresser were dark wood, old but in good shape. The bed was a wide double with a red wool throw. The couch and chair were simple and leather.

  Jess sat on the side of the bed. Cracker leaned over her and his concern showed as he looked into her eyes. She looked back up, searching. “Are you okay?” he asked her. She bit her bottom lip.

  “I have to do a thing later on, but you can stay in here if you’d like.”

  She touched his face, getting a thrill as her fingers dragged over his hard, bristly skin. She started to believe that he really did care about her.

  He said, “You don’t have to go back into the clubhouse yet.”

  Her cheeks were hot, “I’m not afraid of Mary Ann,” she said, “I can go back and finish that any time. ” He looked at her anew. She said, “I’d just rather be with you.”

  The fight had her blood racing, and it was racing still. She saw how Mary Ann was tough, and she was mean, too, but Jess was sure that she was stronger and faster.

  He said, “Mary Ann was doing something for Bear. And for me.” She hated hearing that bitch’s name on his lips. She wanted to slap him. She hated more learning that Cracker was in any kind of a scheme with her.

  When her face flushed and he saw it, that amused little-boy grin started to play at the corners of his mouth. Now she couldn’t help herself. Her open hand struck across his face. Four red marks faded quickly up and slowly down on his cheek like a traffic light.

  He held her tight by her wrist. “Should I tie you down?” Her eyes blazed as she struggled but he pressed towards her and his size and strength overwhelmed her. She resisted as he pushed her down. His eyes flashed and gleamed.

  She saw the light of amusement in his face and her teeth bared. Her other hand shot up to slap him but he caught her arm. Now he held both of her wrists. She shook and she glared in his face.

  His knee was between her thighs. She slung her legs up and wrapped them around his waist. A devilish mischievous smile lit his eyes. In fury she jerked her legs, crossed them behind his back and dug him with her heels.

  His voice was slow, “I wonder if I shouldn’t turn you over and spank you.” She lunged at him with her teeth, but he held her wrists too tight and she snapped at the air in front of his nose.

  He said, “Wish I’d known you got this way when you get mad.”

  “Why,” her voice was deep and rasping, “So you could have steered clearer? So you could have spent your time with that little whore?”

  “No,” he was quiet. Firm. “I would have just found ways to make you mad.”

  She squeezed her legs around him and kicked back with her heels. She struggled with her arms against him with all of her strength and her fingers clawed the air.

  “Look, I really want to hold you down until you get too tired to fight,” his grin grew as he watched her body buck against him, hanging by her legs off his waist, held down by her wrists. She struggled with all the strength she had and the more amused he looked, the hotter her anger grew.

  Her eyes were wide and wet and her mouth was open. Her lips tensed and curled. His lip twitched as he watched her. His mouth seized hers. Took it.

  He pinned her to the bed and his lips possessed her. Her arms shook against his grip and her legs thrashed on his hard torso. She pulled and squeezed with her thighs and his denim scraped her wet panties.

  His hand took her face, held her and squeezed her cheeks as his tongue invaded her. The weight of his body pressed her down. The weight of his hips pushed against the heat between her thighs. She felt the hard swelling inside his pants rasp through the hot, flimsy fabric against her soaking petals.

  Her free hand grabbed his hair, pulled to get him off. A voice in her head told her she must resist. All of her body clenched and ached, Resist, resist, fight back. Fight, the harder the better. As long as he wins. She tugged on his hair. It did nothing. He pressed harder against her. Into her.

  Shocks of unchained sensation made her back arc and strain while her treacherous legs pulled him hard into her opening wet need. Her swollen folds rubbed, pressed to reach his hot stiffening ram. She tried to bite his lips.

  He gripped a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. Her eyes were wild and her tongue flicked around her red lips. A
s soon as his other hand let go of her arm, she beat on his back with the side of her fist.

  He opened his jeans. She felt his hot, hard flesh. The heavy girth of his fat rod flattened her weeping petals and the base of her zinging buried trigger. Her hands clawed his shirt. The hot skin behind the dark, downy fuzz at the base of his stomach pushed against her.

  His hand slid up the bottom of her thigh. She squeezed and kicked. His face looked like he was considering a complicated ice-cream, chocolate and cake dessert and couldn’t decide where to start. She slapped him. It had little impact. She had no room to swing. So she did it again.

  He tore her panties, ripped them in one move. The cool air shocked her. His hot flesh pressed and pulsed against her wet pussy. She slid her hips as tight as she could and dragged her lips along his length. Her breath caught in a gasp. She found the end. She had the slick, hard head of him.