Hades' Flame

by Glenna Maynard

  First, I thought she was dead as I came to a slow roll, as I was passing her by. I don’t know why I felt compelled to stop. I suppose I have a few manners left in me, even if I am a dirty son of a bastard, and the vice president of the Black Rebel Riders’ MC. Women are to be cherished and respected and damn it if I ain't a fool for a woman in need of help. Had I known Gypsy Red, I’d known she didn’t need no man to take care of her; she clearly could handle her own. Like I said, I thought she was dead, she was just lying there, like a fish, hours out of water.

  Parking my bike, I approached her real slow. It could be a setup. It wouldn’t be the first time a woman was used to lure me and my brothers into trouble. But then I heard the soft sobs and the closer I inspected the woman. Her chest was heaving uncontrollably. Even if she didn’t want it, she needed my help.

  “Humph,” I cleared my throat to get her attention. “Miss, are you broke down?” You see Highway 32 is not a place you’d want to run out of gas or have a breakdown. Many besides my brothers’ and me don’t travel this road. Doesn’t she know this is the road to hell? The only place for miles is our bar, The Roadhouse. You see my brothers and I own and run a beer and pizza joint, but it is really just a cover for our moonshine business. The Roadhouse serves as our clubhouse. We take care of our own and we only deal with our own kind, if we can help it.

  Anyway, back to my story…

  “Go away,” she wipes her tears and slowly peeks out at me through her slender hands.

  “Now look here, I might look scary, but I won’t hurt you. Just want to see if I can assist ye. There ain’t nothing for miles and the only people this far out are on their way to hell.” Shit, I am a scary looking son of a bitch. I already have full sleeves tatted up both arms and scars on my face to prove how tough I am. I ain't pretty to look at. Most women look down at their feet when I talk to them. I haven't found one I’d make my top bitch. I figure I have plenty of time; fuck I am only twenty-seven years young. But at twenty- seven I have done seen my share of shit. More than one ought to go through, but I didn’t choose the life it chose me.

  She gasps, clutches her chest, and then she lets out the most musical laugh I have ever heard. It is like a damn siren singing in my head. I need to get close to her…I need to see her face. “Well that’s where I’m headed—hell.” She starts laughing again like some sort of loon this time. I swear the crazy bitch just slapped her knee like I just told her the funniest thing she done did heard.

  “Are you high?” I can’t stand a bitch that’s tweaking.

  “No, I got a busted tire and I think my battery’s dead and well, I ain’t got no gas either.”

  “Well shit, you is in a bind, ain’t ya, Red? Here’s your choices, you can stay here hoping someone bigger and meaner than me don’t try to drag you off for some fun, to leave you in a ditch. Or you can come with me and I’ll bring you back tomorrow to get your car situated.” I walk closer to her. I am only going to offer my hand to help her off the hood and she flinches. “I said I ain’t going to hurt you, damn it.” I mumble to myself that I shoulda just kept rolling by. That’s when I see her face. She has been sliced up real good across her top lip. Fuck, I don't know who did this, but I don’t like no man putting his hands on a woman. The moonlight hits her cheekbone casting light on her bruised jaw. I run my finger over the bruise and she winces as a hiss escapes my lips.

  “Who hurt ya, Red?”

  “Don’t worry about me, you should see him. But I guess he won’t be seeing much since I killed that sorry bastard.” Her lip curls up with a proud smile, earning her my respect. I like a person who can own what they have done.

  I don’t know what to say to that. But whatever that sorry bastard did, by the looks of her, I am sure he deserved it.

  “Well that’s that, you comin’ or not?” She looks at me really funny like, but without any hesitation or doubt she puts her hand in mine. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she climbs behind me on my chopper and I take her home with me. Normally a brother doesn’t bring a piece of strange to the clubhouse, but Red is different. I don’t know why but she just is.

  Maybe it was the moon that night or the fire in her eyes, but I couldn't leave her there. I couldn’t help myself, something inside of her calmed the beast raging inside me.

  We ride thirty miles in silence before I turn down the dirt path that leads to the back of the compound. You wouldn’t know the secret path is hidden behind the brush unless you are a Black Rebel. The road twists and turns so much a normal person would never be able to stay on the narrow road, but we have it like this for a reason. Any of my brothers could drive this path blindfolded but anyone else would end up nose first in a tree. You don’t live the life we lead and not have ways to protect your livelihood.

  We have a trailer park behind the bar, but not all members have one. The trailers are reserved for the families. The other brothers live in the apartments over the bar. However, being Vice President I get my own trailer, but if one of the brothers were to take and start a family and needed it, I'd give it to them. Not because I would have to, but because I would want to.

  We hit the clearing that is home to all the trailers, the place looks like a redneck dream. I have one of the larger ones since I am vice president, but I really don't have much use for it since I don't have a family to house in it. I have just broken two rules— one bringing Red here, and number two bringing her in on the back road. I bring my bike to a stop and takeout a flashlight to light the way to the steps.

  I could have turned on the outdoor lights, but I don't want to draw any attention to my guest. Struggling to unlock my door about damn near makes me embarrassed. This woman is doing funny things to my brain. I have only just met her and everything in me is screaming out to protect her—to have her. The urge to sling her over my shoulder all caveman like—throw her down on my bed and do bad things with her is knotted up in my chest. But seeing she is in a bad way, I don't see that sittin' too well with her. Instead of claiming that sweet body and having those milky legs thrown over my shoulders, I invite her in.

  My life was never the same after she crossed over my doorstep...

  Giving her a minute to take in the place, I light up a joint to wind down. This woman has me all keyed up, my fingers are twitching for something to do.

  I imagine this is not what she was expecting when she got on the back of my chopper since I look pretty fucking rough. My appearance is scary, and I like it that way— motherfuckers know I don’t mess around. I have red teardrop tattoos trickling down my neck to symbolize the number of men I’ve killed. I almost look like my neck is bleeding raindrops. I am a cold-blooded killer— a gun for hire. I don't do roses and candy. I am not in the killing business anymore, but that doesn't change the evil that has tainted my soul. I'm not a good man. I have hurt good people for a dollar. I like to get my nuts off and be done with a woman.

  But Red, she had different plans for me, I just didn't know how different at the time.

  My place is clean, and my furniture is well kept. Like I said, I have one of the nicer trailers and being VP has its rewards—free housekeeping. Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to have little shits of my own roughing up the place. My thoughts are interrupted— thank god— by Red, gasping when she fully sees my face and how fucked up it is. I’m glad for the interruption. Like I said, crazy bitch is messing with my head. I just pictured little red headed flaming q-tips fucking up my spot.

  “Bathroom is third door on the left and you can have your pick of a bedroom, I don’t sleep here much. I’m usually at the clubhouse.”

  She purses her lips and then she does something real strange. Red walks over to me and kisses the ugliest of my scars on my face and she whispers, “thank you,” so light her breath feels like a feather tickling my ear. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Names Jack, but most people call me Grim.”

  “Thank you, Jack, you’ve shown me more kindness in an hour than most have shown me my whole
life. You can call me Gypsy Red. I’m a wanderer, don’t stay put long.”

  “Heard that.”

  I let her make use of the bathroom and go in the kitchen to see if I can rustle up some grub. That joint has me starving with the munchies.

  I wasn't used to having a woman around or having to feed one.

  I keep my whores where they belong—at the clubhouse. They suck and fuck me and then I’m done with them. But Red— I wouldn’t mind if she stayed. Never wanted a woman to stay before now.

  Christ, my breath catches in my throat when I hear the bathroom door open and Red emerges in a barely there towel. Her vanilla cream ass is hanging out and I want to spank it. I have it in my mind that I’d liked to bend her over and beat that ass. There’s a fire in her eyes that tells me she’d like it too. I have never seen eyes look like hers, they are a golden, honey, brown shade, with flecks of orange, and the red color of her hair makes the flecks look like tiny flickers of a candle.

  “You got any clothes?” She shakes her head at me. I know I had better get something to cover that sexy body on her fast. “My room is the first door on the right. Go on in and take whatever you need for the night. I’ll get ya something nice to put on in the morning.” She looks at me like she is about to cry. Jesus, I only offered her a place to lay her head and a shirt. What in the hell has she been through? “After you get eh...dressed I made ye a sandwich.” Red nods and I turn on my TV and start watching an episode of Cops. These dumb sons of bitches crack my shit up. I love it when they say, “these aren’t my pants officer.”

  Kicking off my boots, I start to wonder what happened to Red, she never has come out of my room. I make my way to my bedroom and the door is open. There she is curled up in the middle of my bed wearing my favorite shirt. It says, I’d rather have a sister in a whorehouse than a brother on a Honda, across the chest. Her eyes flutter slightly and I can tell she is having a bad dream. Sinking down on the bed, I curl up behind her stroking her cheek. I whisper in her ear, “Shhh, baby, Grim’s got ya. Ain’t anyone going to hurt you.” She seems to relax at my words and she snuggles her ass right up to my crotch. I respect women to a certain extent, but fuck me running, she isn't wearing any damn panties, and that creamy ass of hers is teasing my dick. A man can only handle so much. Pulling back from her, I place a pillow between her ass and my dick. I spend most the night watching her sleep. She is the most beautiful, wounded heart I have ever seen.

  When I wake up the next morning, Red and I are almost nose-to-nose and it feels good. I haven't ever slept curled up to a bitch before for a whole night, but she isn't like any other woman I have ever met. She is the first to ever sleep in my bed. I keep my women at the clubhouse. Gypsy Red is putting her spell on me. Don't even know her but I want her. Never felt this way before. She must be a damn witch.

  That woman put her spell on me and there was no fighting the pull I felt to have her.

  The sunlight is streaming through the window and her face is so beautifully calm. It doesn't hold that terrified expression anymore. Kissing her nose, I roll out of bed. It is time to get her some clothes and get her car running. I just fucking kissed her nose. She has to go—fast. I write her a quick note to tell her to make herself comfortable—I would say at home, but if she stays much longer, I am going to be begging her not to ever leave, and she said herself she is a gypsy, a wanderer.

  I head to the clubhouse to grab us some breakfast and Red some clothes. My dick can't take much more of her sweet ass and no panties. Hope Slim's brother-in-law is hanging around with his tow truck.

  “I hear you brought some strange in with ya last night. I don't need to tell ya, Grim, that shit ain’t cool. You ain’t leading by example pulling shit like this.” Our club president Slim is giving me the look that tells me he is ready to stick his size thirteen boot up my ass, but he knows I ain't scared of him. We fucking started this charter together.

  Slim is an ugly motherfucker, he done pissed some wrong people off when we were teens, that's how he got the scar over his eye. When we made the choice to leave, the MC we first become brothers in, he lost a nut, and motherfucker is tough. Crazy bastards—the Devils Rejects, cut the damn thing off. They say Hook keeps it in a glass jar on his desk. Hook is the prez of the Devils Rejects, and the meanest bastard I have ever met.

  “Look, I picked up this gypsy she was in a real bad way— broke down and her face has been fucked with. You know if I hadn’t stepped in she’d be in a ditch if one of the boys from Hook’s crew got a hold of her.” Hook’s crew is some real low life scummy sons of bitches. They don’t have any respect for their women. And a little pretty thing like Red—they’d eat her alive. She might have killed some sorry bastard, but she isn't no match for his men. They are ruthless and would fuck a rattlesnake if they could get their dick in its mouth.

  “Ain’t my problem or yours. You bringing that strange in here will start a war. Are you aware that she fucking killed Benji last night?” My eyes go wide. Benji is motherfucking Hook’s son.

  “Fuck me running.”

  “Yeah brother, fuck us all up the ass without any lube. That bitch is going to get us all killed.” Slim gets up from the stool he was perched on and clamps me on the shoulder. “Hope she gave you the fuck of your life. Hook is going to be searching high and low for her. It's only a matter of time before he tracks her to us.”

  “Fuck,” I slam my fist down on the counter of the bar. “I can’t just hand her over. You know they will hang her from a tree and skin her like a deer. Benji is a sick motherfucker; he probably deserved whatever she did to him.”

  “Like I said brother, unless you want to claim her as yours, it ain’t our problem. You going to take her as your top bitch?”

  Scrubbing my forehead with my hands, I wonder what in the hell did I get myself into?

  “Look, Grim, you know I love you like blood, but this shit here —if you want her, we better be prepared for a fucking brawl. You feel me? And I ain’t about to get my men killed because you tapped some ass.”

  “Yeah, I feel you. I’ll let you know my decision in two hours.” Normally we would vote on something like this but I brought this on us and I will face the consequences. I won’t send my brothers into a blood battle over a piece of ass I haven’t even tapped. If I claim Red—I’ll take the punishment.

  “Whatever you decide, I got your back brother. Ride free or die trying.” That’s our motto. I have it tattooed across my back to show my charter pride. I know what I want to do but the question is what does Red want? I’ve been waiting to put Hook in the ground. Now this could be my chance.

  If I had been a smart man, I would have sent Gypsy Red on the next bus out of town, but I never said I was smart.

  I head to the whore’s quarters to borrow some clothes off blowjob Betty. She’s been doing us all right for five years now. She always smells like paradise. She has the prettiest olive skin I have ever seen. Betty has a special talent for giving good head. And she makes a damn fine cook.

  “You’re up early,” Betty runs her fingers down my arm. "No matter though. I always got time for you, Grim.”

  “No time, I need a favor, need to bum some clothes off you.” She gives me a funny look and then she looks at me wide eyed with them big chocolate browns and they grow black with anger.

  Now ain’t any time for jealousy. Fuck, she doesn’t see me getting up in a roar when she has a line down the hall for a BJ.

  She slings a tank top and a pair of jeans at me. “Hope these fit the slut.”

  I grab her by her hair. “I’ve always treated you fair. Don’t you be mouthing off to me bitch! I’ll send you outta here so fast and hard you won’t know what hit ya. Feel me?” Betty knows better. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I think fucking Gypsy Red has put some voodoo hex on all of us. I pick the clothes up off the floor and stomp my ass back to my trailer. When I come through everyone knows to steer clear accept for Slim’s boys. Them little shits don’t know when to quit. They are sp
oiled little devils.

  “Unc Jack, Unc Jack.” They both grab a leg.

  “Striker, Rebel… you staying out of trouble?”

  “Momma says you in trouble.” Rebel looks up at me as I drag him and his brother through the grass attached to my ankles.

  “Momma says you brought home a piece of strange.” Striker laughs and punches me in the nuts. Those little hellions are our future. I shake my head. Those boys are going to be a world of trouble. Foxie Roxie had better get a handle on them fast.

  “Go on you little fuckers, go back and hide under your momma’s skirt before I bust your asses.” They scurry off quick at my warning.

  Walking into my place, I sniff the air. I smell coffee and is that bacon? Fuck, Red is making herself very comfortable. I didn’t even know I had coffee. I find her in my kitchen downing a cup of java and nibbling on a piece of bacon like a little bird.

  “I got you some clothes. Get dressed. We got some talking to do.” She reaches for the clothes and uncrosses her legs and I get a perfect view of that tight little pussy. Fuck, it’s beautiful and I just want to drop down on my knees right here and taste it— fuck, I want her for breakfast lunch and dinner. Fucking gypsy magic…

  God how I wanted her.

  After she is dressed, she rejoins me in the kitchen.

  “You are a wanted woman.” I get right down to business. No point in pretending I don’t know what she has drug me into.

  “I won’t cause you no trouble. I know what I did and who I did it to. Last night when you stopped, I thought for sure you were one of Hook’s men. I thought you were going to kill me on the spot. But I’ve been thinking. I will go turn myself in to Hook and face my punishment. No matter what it is, it can’t be worse than the hell I’ve lived this past year.”