Just another day in the life of Devil Call MC.
The entire place stunk of filth, sex, and even drugs. Something about the place didn’t feel right anymore. We were on a cliff and we were slipping…
Nash took Jasmine into the room where the guys met at the table. It was supposed to be for MC use and nothing more.
The first slap made me jump. Then came a second, and a third. I rushed forward, needing to save Jasmine. Whether she liked to get slapped around or not didn’t fucking matter. This was bullshit.
I was an inch from the door when a hand grabbed me.
I turned and saw Gabel eyeing me. “Don’t.”
“He’s…”
“Don’t.”
I heard another slap, followed by a crying sound.
“She’s in pain,” I said.
“It’s his old lady,” Gabel said. “Back off, Layne.”
I turned and faced him. I grabbed Gabel by the shirt and pulled him close. “Don’t ever tell me to back off. You want to follow blindly?”
“Follow what?”
I pushed Gabel away and then went to the bar. A prospect hurried to get me a beer. And I sat there, waiting for the door to open. To see what Nash had done to Jasmine. Like it actually mattered. I was suddenly jealous of Talon. He was at a bar right now, drinking and probably eyeing someone up to take for a ride for the night.
And here I was, caring about something that didn’t matter to me.
The door finally opened and Nash came out, wiping blood off his lip.
“You okay?” I asked.
Nash slammed the door shut, but not before I caught sight of Jasmine with her pants and neon green thong down to her ankles, bent over the table, her ass red raw.
“All good,” Nash said as he slammed the door.
“She smack you?”
“Yeah. I told her to. Gets me in the mood.”
“You two are made for each other,” I said.
“Yeah, right. Now if I could get her to stop fucking other guys…”
“Maybe you should introduce her to girls then,” I said with a grin. “That could work double for you.”
Nash bellowed a laugh and put an arm around me. “Fucking Layne. You’re something. Hey, where’s Talon?”
“Went for a drink.”
“Fuck him then,” Nash said. “Didn’t like what I asked, huh?”
I shook my shoulder away. “Nash, it’s not our business…”
Nash made a fist and pounded the bar. “It’s your business if I say so. Got that?”
“Sure,” I said.
I hurried away from the bar and went outside. I needed to take a breath and get the fuck out of the clubhouse. There was nothing like hearing the wet sounds of Maxen slurping at some chick and Buzzy groaning as he stroked himself to the sight of a woman playing with herself.
Yeah, the MC had its wild moments of complete debauchery. And why not? We were the muscle in Brocke. We were the law, the power, the outlaws that kept the town alive. But all that seemed to be more of a dream anymore.
As I finished my beer, Jagg came walking up to me. He finished off a cigarette and threw the butt to the ground, sending it bouncing and embers scattering.
“Fucking hell in there,” I said.
“Yeah,” Jagg said. He put a leg up on a chair and ran a hand through his hair. “Getting worse, Layne. Nash is out of his skull.”
“I agree with that,” I said.
“So what do we do?”
I looked at Jagg. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You want to get whacked someday, Layne, trying to pull some guy’s cock out of Jasmine’s ass?”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t need to. Nobody wanted that job. That was prospect work. Not patched in guys. Fuck, we should have been worrying about Los Ahn. They were pushing boundaries again. Working against the border of Brocke. Fuck, all the drugs in the motel, where did they come from?
“That’s what I thought,” Jagg said.
“So, what? You want to have a takeover?”
“Would that be the worst thing?”
I laughed. “You need a table vote on that. And Nash isn’t going to give up the gavel.”
“Then someone has to make him.”
“Someone?” I asked. “Like who?”
Jagg grinned and put his foot back on the ground and walked away.
Like who?
There was only one person that came to mind. And, no, it wasn’t me. Someone who could actually help the MC.
Talon.
3.
(Talon)
The beer was ice cold. It was smooth. Two down, plenty to go. The chatter and murmurs of the people around me were almost a comforting noise compared to what was going through my mind. When I first got to the bar I had to run to the bathroom and wash some blood off my hands and face.
All in the clear, I sat at the bar and thought about Devil Call MC. From the first time I saw the guys barreling down the road in leather cuts and mean looking faces, I had found my purpose. My mother was dead from a suicide I didn’t believe was her fault. I was out on the street because living at home with the asshole she had married wasn’t cutting it. Of all things, the asshole was a cop. Well, now a detective.
It was just me and Layne on the street, surviving. That meant hustling people down for money, taking bets on pool games and even fighting people for money. Slowly, we ended up getting closer and closer to Devil Call MC until we were finally there. And we skipped the whole prospect bullshit thing too, because we were meant to fight and we were meant to wear the leather cuts.
It was all different then. There was some kind of structure and purpose. Now, we all had no clue what the fuck Nash was thinking, doing, or planning. Living each day to die was just how the life was… but to live to die because of Nash was not a way to live. I couldn’t take a bullet for him. Because of him. And since he was the President of Devil Call MC, that presented a major fucking problem for me.
If I didn’t respect him, then he didn’t deserve the patch.
The problem was that there were a lot of other guys in the MC besides me. Plenty of them I wasn’t sure about, to be honest, because they seemed to love the life more than they appreciated what the life gave back.
I finished another beer and another was waiting for me right away. I knew Johnny - the bartender - from years ago when I broke into the bar and stole a six pack of beer for me and Layne. We were young, stupid, and the assholes who looked right at the security camera while robbing the place. Johnny looked at the tapes and knew who we were. He tracked us down and made Layne and me work three shifts to pay for the broken lock and the six pack of beer.
Goddamn, he was a cool guy.
But I wasn’t at the bar to reminisce. I was pissed the fuck off. I couldn’t believe that I had blood on my hands for something like Nash and his fucking old lady. Jasmine would never stop fucking more cock than her pussy could handle… and Nash would never stop chasing the whore down. But to put me and Layne right in the line of fire like that, that was wrong.
“Talon, here’s another,” Johnny said.
“What?” I asked.
“Another beer.”
“I just got one.”
“Not from me, Talon. Down the end of the bar.”
I turned my head and saw a little blondie looking right at me. She smiled and I could see her blue eyes burning from the distance. I grabbed the bottle of beer and pushed it back toward Johnny.
“Take it back,” I said. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
“She paid for it,” Johnny said.
“Then drink it.”
Johnny took the beer and put it down under the bar. He knew by the look in my eye it was best to just back away a little and give me space. At the same time, if I got too rowdy, Johnny kept a wooden bat under the bar, complete with plenty of blood stains, and he wasn’t afraid to swing it.
I looked down at the blondie and just shook my head.
She
really had no fucking clue. Nobody did. Unless you were in the MC you didn’t get it. Yeah, part of me was out looking for something to take back to the clubhouse and fuck, but I didn’t need the flirty bullshit stuff like buying a beer and smiling.
That didn’t fly with me.
I set my eyes forward again, trying to get lost back in thought. Los Ahn had been pushing hard lately. Drug arrests were through the roof. Street violence was kept on the west side of Brocke, but it was getting bad. And I feared some of the cops were on the take from Los Ahn and other clubs or drug pushers. Which was scary. If Devil Call MC lost the police and lost the power, we were fucked. We’d just be a bunch of guys wearing leather cuts, trying to look cool.
I hadn’t given a shit about looking cool since I was seven and my mother refused to buy me some really cool light up shoes. She said we were broke and I had to wear the same shoes from the year before. My toes were curled when I wore them because my feet outgrew them. That’s where the fire seemed to start. The desire to be free. To be truly fucking free.
A hand touched my shoulder.
I turned around and there she was. The blondie, standing there with a pissed off looking face.
“Really?” I asked.
“What?”
“Sweetheart, trust me…”
“I came to give you something,” she said.
“Another beer?” I asked.
“You’re a dick.”
“I have a dick.”
She smirked and leaned in. Her lips were right at my ear. “Show it to me then.”
I felt something touch my hand and when blondie pulled away I looked down and saw a pair of red panties in my hand.
I looked at blondie and raised my eyebrow. “I don’t wear these.”
“I do,” she said. “Well, I did. Just took them off for you.”
“You just took them off?”
“What? Don’t believe me? Want to smell them?”
I laughed. The chick was raunchy. Really pretty, too. She was short, bold, her breasts pressing against her shirt, jeans that hugged all the rights curves.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll take good care of these.”
I started to turn back around and blondie grabbed my shoulder. She leaned in again and said, “My name is Lexa. Just so you know it. Because I know your name is Talon. I hate commitments. I hate relationship. I have nothing to lose and nothing to gain. I just like being free. Like you. And I’d like you inside me.”
I laughed again. I looked over my shoulder and watched as Lexa was walking away. She cut through the crowd and went for a door that read EMPLOYEES ONLY.
When I faced the bar again, Johnny stood there, a dirty rag over his shoulder. His hands gripped the bar and his face and eyes looked weary. Probably as weary as I looked.
“You know that one?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Johnny said. “Friend of a friend thing. Her old man was done in a couple years back by some of your old friends.”
“What?”
“One of the other clubs.”
“Who was her father?”
“Not a good man. Nothing good ever came of her poor life. But she’s the most free woman I’ve ever met.”
“She’s bold, Johnny. I’ll give her that much.”
“She owes me two hundred bucks for drinks.”
“Still giving too much trust, huh?”
Johnny grinned. “I should have beaten you and Layne’s heads in with my bat when I found you two. You started this.”
I stood from the bar and dug in my pocket. I threw plenty of cash on the bar. “That covers me and her, right?”
Johnny put a hand on the cash. “Not a problem, Talon. Be safe out there.”
That was something Johnny always fucking said. Be safe out there.
I left the bar, feeling a little regret of not messing around with Lexa a little more. But that was fine. Life moved on. She was better off finding someone else to fuck around with.
I turned the corner of the bar and saw someone standing… no… sitting… on my fucking ride. Sitting in the wrong direction, one leg up, relaxing on my motorcycle.
As I got closer, I saw that it was none other than Lexa. She was smoking a cigarette, finishing it off and throwing it to the ground. I reached back and grabbed my handgun. I pulled it out and stood there, the gun at my side.
“It’s not a fucking joke,” I said. “Who I am. What I do. You better understand that right now.”
Lexa sat up on the motorcycle. She slid her hands along the seat. I couldn’t help but notice that her legs were spread wide open.
“Understood,” she said. “I’m not that far from your lifestyle either, Talon.”
“So how do you know my name? And what the fuck do you want?”
“Everyone in this town knows your name,” Lexa said. “And I already told you what I want. Your dick.”
I still had her fucking panties with me, tucked in my back pocket. I took out the red panties and threw them at Lexa. “Take these and go home. Or go back inside and try your trick on someone else.”
I walked toward my ride, hell bent on getting this chick off of it and out of here. But as I approached, she swung her leg over the motorcycle and stood up, facing me. I towered over her, but she showed not an ounce of fear.
We were just inches apart. Part of me wanted to grab her and plant a kiss on her lips and send her packing. That maybe would have been the right thing to do.
As I debated, the sound of a shotgun rang out just feet away from me.
My arms were quickly around Lexa’s body as I looked back, trying to figure out what was happening. I heard people screaming and it seemed like the entire bar was ready to explode.
“Fuck,” I growled. I looked at Lexa. “Get on my ride and don’t fucking move.”
I turned and she grabbed my wrist. “What are you doing? Did you hear that?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, sweetheart. Other guys in leather cuts run away and ride away, scared. I go into the fire. I like to get burned.”
I ran toward the bar, gun ready. I realized I was still holding Lexa’s panties so I finally dropped them to the ground. The backdoor to the bar flew open and Johnny came charging out, his bat in hand.
“Johnny!” I yelled.
“Get out of here!” he bellowed, pointing the bat at me like a really big and swollen finger. “They’re looking for you!”
“Me? Who?”
“I don’t know. Black cuts. Dark hair. Dark faces. Dark everything. Warning shot, Talon. They’re looking…”
“Fuck,” I yelled.
I turned around and saw Lexa on the back of my ride still. Just like I had told her to do. She actually fucking listened to me. And now I had to take her with me. I couldn’t just leave her in harm’s way, right?
Fuck it, I could have left her in harm’s way, but I didn’t want to. She’d given me her panties and begged for my cock. If she wanted to spend a night with a real biker and a real man, then so be it.
First, we just had to get out of this fucking place alive.
4.
(Layne)
I pulled out at the last possible second and slapped my cock down to her belly. She hurried to grip me, squeezing, gently pumping, letting all my warm release spray on her body. I couldn’t remember her name, but she had been the one playing with herself while Buzzy watched. Buzzy didn’t have the edge to take the chick to a room and actually take care of her, so I did it.
Her breasts were big and full. They danced the entire time I fucked her and even as she jerked me as I finished, her tits kept moving. I reached and cupped one of her breasts, playing with her nipple as I gritted my teeth.
When I was done, she stayed right with me, stroking me slower and slower. Her hand then cupped down and under, playing with my balls for a second. A little too weird for me, so I pulled back and climbed off the bed.
She then touched herself again, two fingers massaging her wet folds and then sliding back up her body,
through the creamy mess I made on her stomach.
I took a few seconds to catch my breath and then pointed to the door. “You can leave.”
“Seriously?” the woman asked as she propped herself up on her elbows. “We haven’t even gotten started yet.”
“I’m finished,” I said. “You can take a shower, then get the fuck out of my room.”
I picked up my jeans and found my t-shirt and leather cut. If I came back to the room and found the chick still here, I’d simply pick her up and drop her ass outside my room.
Done. Over. Goodnight.
I left the room and grabbed a beer at the bar. I needed some fresh air and some thought. Talon hadn’t come back yet which made me hope he found a little comfort to enjoy and take away the sting of today. I had licked every possible inch on that woman’s body so I could still taste her. I’d seen her plenty of times lingering around the clubhouse. She never fucked any of the guys except me, which really pissed everyone off.
But she wasn’t afraid to get naked, dance around, and touch herself.
What a life.
Outside, I heard voices talking.
Coming from the right side of the clubhouse, I slowly started to walk toward the voices. I couldn’t believe myself, keeping some kind of guard like the voices could be enemies. That’s how vulnerable the damn MC was right now. Because of Nash and how he was handling things.
And speaking of Nash, one of the voices turned out to be his.
He stood there, holding a cell phone in his hand, leaning against the railing. Next to him was a tall guy with thick arms. I could see a tattoo on the guy’s arm. A big thing that ran from his shoulder to elbow. It looked like a skull with barbed wire.
I hung back, listening.
“It’s going to be great,” Nash said into the phone.
A third voice, from the phone spoke. “I trust we won’t have any bloodshed, Nash. You hear about the motel today?”
BEFORE THE PATCH – book one (A Devil Call MC Book) Page 2
