Outlaw's Obsession

by Nicole Snow

  He headed toward his Harley and stopped next to my car. I watched as he took the knife in one fist, then slammed it into my front tire, tearing a gash across it. Air hissed out through the fissure in the rubber.

  “What the fuck are you doing!?” I screamed. Anguish pressed so hard against my skull I thought I'd pass out.

  No, no, no. This can't be happening. I've got to be asleep somewhere, suffering this nightmare.

  I couldn't handle a car repair too. I fucking couldn't.

  “I'm doing everything I can to give the Prez an excuse to let me bring you back to Klamath. I've got half a mind to throw you on my bike right now and take off. Shit, it'd be better for everybody. I'll get my dick wet in that red haired pussy of yours, and you'll get a couple hot meals a day in between having every hole fucked like no tomorrow. But I'm a nice guy. I'm a softie.” His voice dripped sarcasm. “I'm gonna give your whore pussy a fighting chance. If you cough up next week's payment, I'll let you stay here until you finally fuck up. Won't shove poison down your old man's throat when the nurse's back is turned until you disappoint me again. Get your shit together, Chrissy. You've got seven days before I see if I need to visit again. You miss the next payment, your ass is mine, and daddy's a dead man.”

  I wilted right there. Listening to the sound of his engine growling was like the world ending. For all intents and purposes, it was.

  My house of cards had finally collapsed and burned to ashes.

  It was a little songbird landing on a branch overhead that finally stopped my shaking, stormy tears ripping at my eyes. I looked up, wondering how something so beautiful could exist in this hell.

  I shifted, sat up, slowly tried to stuff my things back into my purse. My hands and knees hurt from where he'd shoved me to the ground. I didn't even want to think about how I was going to patch the tire with less than a hundred dollars in my bank account – everything in the world he hadn't ransacked from me. Also, all I had marked for my rent, and it wasn't nearly enough.

  When I picked up my phone, I held it, shaking as my fingers went through my contacts. It stopped on Rabid's number. It took several tries calling him. I always hung up on the third ring, afraid he'd actually answer.

  On the fourth try, I let it ring all the way. His voice mail switched on, and the mundane pre-recorded message was the best thing I'd heard all day. Why the hell had I been so blind until now?

  I needed this man. Hell, I actually wanted his company too. He'd offered a helping hand and so much else, and I'd been too fucking stupid to take it. No more.

  “Rabid, it's Christa. I'm at the gas station off Cypress. If you're around this evening, I could really use some help.” I couldn't stop the heartache and anguish from flowing into my voice. “Like, I could really fucking use it. I need you! You've got to come get me as quick as you can. My car's fucked. I've got no way to get home or fix it.”

  I just about left it at that. But my brain had no more filter, and I let the words come that would guarantee he showed up if he still gave a crap about me.

  “Big Ed stole everything from me. Please. Come find me as soon as you get this.”

  I sounded like a little girl pleading for my father again. The sassy bitch ready to take on the world had been swept aside by Ed's assault. It should've horrified me, but somehow, it didn't.

  I meant every word. I needed him to find me. I was ready to give him the truth and admit I couldn't face this on my own. And if he could help me wreck the bastard who'd given me a one week countdown to total slavery, then maybe he could help me straighten more out too.

  Maybe he could prove letting someone else into my heart wasn't the disaster I'd always assumed, but something bright and unexpected as the little bird still singing in the trees.

  It was about an hour before my phone rang. I was tucked into the driver's seat, trying to look normal to the gawky kid who came out of the gas station a half hour before to empty some trash. I hoped like hell he'd write me off as another poor girl in an old beater who'd pulled over to take a call.

  If I had one more problem before Rabid showed up, I was going to break glass and scream.

  My body was on overload. I'd fallen asleep. The phone woke me up.

  The first thing I heard on the line was a motorcycle humming, and I smiled. Amazing how that sound had always offered either heaven or hell.

  “Baby, are you okay?” His voice blasted into my ear. Intense. Questioning.

  “I might be now that I've got you on the line.”

  “Hold on. I'm already on my way. When I get there, you're gonna tell me what the fuck's going on. Don't you dare cover anybody's ass.”

  I smiled. He was gruff, demanding, but it was all for me. “I think we're past that, Rabid. I'm not hiding anything from you for now on.”

  “Good. See you in a little bit.”

  The line went dead. Only took about five more minutes for him to roar up next to me. He killed his bike's engine and hopped off, running up to my window as I got out.

  “Fucking shit! Where's the asshole who did this to you? He's a dead man.” He reached out and touched my puffy face, probably at its worst since I'd escaped Fang. I certainly hadn't cried so hard.

  “I'm glad to see you. Do you know that?” I threw my arms around him. No one had ever felt so right beneath my palms. “I'm sorry about last time. The kiss really freaked me out. I couldn't handle it. I ran away and –“

  “Not now, babe.” He pushed his finger across my lips. “We're not going there 'til I find the man who did this. Tell me the fucking truth. Tell me now. Was this really Ed and the Oregon crew?”

  Our eyes locked. Slowly, I nodded my head. His eyes flickered, hellfire reflecting off diamonds, ready to kill and die for me if he had to. He looked like a lunatic, but the crazy bloodlust in his eyes was for me. All mine.

  “He took everything. Stole my money and pushed me to the ground. I riled him up like an idiot.” Rabid started shaking his head the instant I stopped talking, denying any attempt to find fault with me.

  Maybe he was right. Big Asshole was such a bully, he'd gotten all my wires crossed, tried to make me think I deserved this. Any sane logic said I didn't.

  “Fuck!” Rabid bared his teeth. “Should've known not to let that piece of shit outta my sight. Where does he hang out? Has he hit the road home yet? How long ago did he leave?”

  “I don't have a clue, Rabid. He comes and goes as he pleases. A lot more often lately. I think he's hanging around town for business with your club.”

  “Yeah,” he said, as if he knew more. “Got a feeling his shit's done for now. I've gotta catch up with that motherfucker before he gets on the highway. You stay here, Christa.”

  He pulled me back toward my car. Wait, crap, he wasn't leaving me here, was he?

  “Don't go!” I said, desperately tugging on his cut, pulling at the bear patch. He stopped. “He's stronger than he looks. Dangerous too. I don't need to tell you that. At least call in some help if you're really going after him. You can't do this alone!”

  I was scared to death my plea was going to get him killed. If that happened, I wouldn't even fight the next time anyone from Oregon came after me. I'd give myself up and suffer everything I deserved for spilling Rabid's beautiful blood.

  Jesus, in twenty-four years, nothing good had ever happened to me. It was a curse. Tragedy took everybody I cared about, and I'd lose him too if I let him slip out of sight. I just knew it.

  “Baby, come on.” His voice was soft, but determined. He leaned down, pulled me halfway off the driver's seat, into his arms. “You know I have to go. It's the only way outta this. Every minute he's walking around and breathing is one more minute you're in danger. That motherfucker's long overdue for a bullet in his evil brain. Let me do what I do best.”

  He threw his arms around me and squeezed. I threw myself at him, desperately pressing my lips to his. The kiss ignited an explosion in my brain. My vision blanked out into a black canvass, completely messed up while adrenaline overlo
aded my system.

  Beautiful colors. Neon flashes matching the lightning in my blood. His mouth lit me up like a candle and I still wanted more, even when I was burning from head to toe.

  This man knew how to kiss like nobody else. Probably because I wanted his lips on mine like nobody's business. His tongue swept over mine again and again, rough and possessive. He licked me sopping wet without even putting his face between my legs.

  Jesus. I tumbled back to earth as it ended in a growl. Then his lips broke from mine and he stepped away.

  “I'll be back for you as soon as I can. Here.” He pulled out his wallet and rifled through the cash tucked inside, pushing a fistful of bills into my hands. “Get yourself a cab and something to eat. Wait for me. I'll call you as soon as the job's done. Got a funny feeling I won't have to go far. A shithead like him won't hit the road without visiting his favorite watering hole first. He's never leaving Redding alive.”

  My eyes bulged. Not just because he'd replaced everything the bastard had stolen in one stroke. Rabid talked about ruling life and death like it was the weather. I didn't have the strength to argue or beg.

  I watched him mount his bike, fix his helmet, and then take off, speeding out the alleyway and into the dulling light. For a second, I thought I could sit there like a good girl, maybe dial up a cab, and find a bar to wait like he asked.

  But that wasn't me. Ed tried to break my spirit, and Rabid restored it. Next thing I knew, my key was in the ignition, and I fastened my seat belt. I might break down trying to follow him with my tire slashed, but damn if I wasn't going to try.

  I couldn't let him ride into battle without any backup. I'd keep my distance, but I had to know what was about to happen.

  I had to make sure the man who was risking his life for me didn't die.

  Rabid wasn't kidding about the watering hole. I'd only passed the dive just outside the city a couple times before, and the meager bar I'd owned put it to shame. The place was crawling with poorly concealed prostitutes and junkies.

  When I first pulled up to park, I saw a man shooting up in the car next to me. He rocked back and forth, a rubber tourniquet around his arm, blasted out of his mind. Obviously such an addict, he couldn't wait to leave the parking lot before sampling the junk, presumably something he'd bought inside.

  I didn't want to go in there. I told myself I'd give it five minutes. I recognized Ed's bike with the horse and bear skulls on it right away, and Rabid's was parked near it.

  Night had fallen. Good thing the traffic going in and out of the bar was light, or else it would've been hard to trade the two big silhouettes that came out a minute later, angrily waving their arms.

  They rounded the building and disappeared on the other side.

  Shit. It had to be them.

  I swallowed hard and slowly opened my door, tip toeing into the darkness.

  Their voices were surprisingly quiet. At first, I thought I was following the wrong shadows.

  Then Rabid's voice exploded. “I don't give a fuck what Blackjack says! I know you assholes are fucking with my club, same goddamned way you're trying to fuck with my girl. I'm gonna find out where you got that patch. No fucking way it came from a cartel boss. You're blowing smoke up our asses so you can set us on fire when our backs are turned.”

  Ed laughed. I'd recognize that awful, sandpaper sound anywhere. “Whatever you say, kid. I've been in this club a lot longer than you. You've gotta hold no punches and give no mercy in this world. The second you do, somebody else will eat you alive. If it's not the Prairie Pussies we're supposed to call our friends thanks to the deal your Prez cut, it's the fucking Mexicans.”

  “You really think you're a big man, don't you?” Rabid spat on the ground. “That's a fucking riot when you're really the most reckless, savage piece of shit I've ever met – and that includes the asswipes we used to call our brothers. They followed Fang off the fucking cliff like the lemmings they were. You're gonna do the same, and so are all your boys in Klamath.”

  ”Yeah?” I knew that edge in Big Ed's voice. Rabid was getting to him, winding him up – probably trying to make him do something stupid.

  “Last I checked, you fuckers are the ones who decided to go apeshit and kill the only bastard hard enough to give us a fighting chance. I'd give my left nut to have Fang back in charge. But I'm not gonna follow him to the grave either. I'll kiss Blackjack's ring as long as he doesn't let dumbfucks like you come into our territory and tell us how we ought to live.”

  Rabid laughed, low and booming, and then it abruptly stopped. “You're as funny as you are fat, asshole.”

  “Oh, yeah? Why the fuck's that? You wanna tell me before I hold you down with this gut and stick a knife in your pussy throat?”

  “You won't do shit,” Rabid growled. “Only pussy I see standing here's you. You're the one sneaking around in our goddamned town, telling chicks like mine what to do with club money. That fucking debt is ours to deal with because it's in our border. Or maybe we decide not to deal with it at all. You can eat shit if you think this brotherly truce changes a damned thing. You're not gonna come within spitting distance of my girl. Never again.”

  My heart was racing. Something insane was about to come to a head.

  “Nah, brother, you got it all wrong.” I cringed when I heard him say the b-word, and I could practically hear Rabid doing it too. “I'm taking what I'm owed. If Chrissy was really your old lady, you'd pay up like a good boy, and I know there's no fucking brand on that bitch. I've heard the talk around your clubhouse – you've got a bad case of puppy love for this scratched up cunt. You should've fucked her when you had your chance and thrown her away. She's not gonna be able to keep the cash flowing in, and you know what that means. I'll be the one doing the fucking soon in Klamath. She's a hot one – everything from the neck down, anyway. Fuck, maybe I can put a bag over that bitch's ugly head while I slam my cock up her –“

  Hatred turned my veins to ice at about the same time Rabid snapped. His arms shot out, grabbed Ed by the throat, and threw him up against the wall with superhuman strength. Big Ed didn't have another second to react before Rabid's switchblade was out, buried in the demon's throat.

  The monster's eyes went wide, searching, trying to understand the fatal pain that struck him like a bolt from the sky. Dark, filthy blood flowed out over Rabid's hands.

  Ed croaked a couple times, shuddered, and began to die. His fat hands wrapped around Rabid's throat, but he was too weak, alive with shock and pain. But not for long.

  I closed my eyes and counted to five. When I opened them, the big man was slumped over, his eyes shut, nothing moving except the blood pouring from his neck.

  It was over just like that. The man who'd tormented me would never speak again, much less do anything else.

  “Go tell your bullshit fantasies to whoever the fuck you meet in hell,” Rabid growled and spat on him as he let go. Ed slumped to the ground.

  He looked over in my direction and instantly cursed. “Fuck!”

  I couldn't think about running. My lungs wouldn't work, and neither would my feet. Rabid was on me like a wolf, tackling me to the ground. I screamed, and the hellish pressure on my spine lightened when he realized it was me.

  “Christa, baby? Jesus fucking Christ.” He stopped, lifted his knee off me, and ran his unbloodied hand through his hair. “Why the hell are you here? I told you to wait for me miles away from this shithole!”

  Anger. Righteous and justified. I scuttled up on my hands and knees, looked at him, and lowered my face to the ground.

  You know why. I thought it, but I didn't dare say it.

  “Don't give me that fucking look. What the fuck ever, baby. Maybe it's better you saw me dispatch his evil ass after all.” He paused. “Since you're here, make yourself useful. Go bring me the black bag on my bike. I'm gonna need it to clean this shit up.”

  He reached into his pocket and tossed me his keys. I moved mechanically, doing as he asked, trying to fully process the fact t
hat I'd just watched him brutally kill the bastard who'd seemed too evil to die.

  Big Ed was dead. He'd never torment me again – but of course his brothers up north might. I shook my head, refusing to think about it.

  There was nothing to fear right now except getting caught by someone who wasn't another junkie or a creep. Tonight, Rabid gave me an ounce of reprieve and the first hope I'd had since forever.

  The leather bag I'd retrieved from his bike was heavy. When I brought it back to him, he tore it open, and brought out what looked like a thick plastic canister.

  Rabid crouched on the ground, turned, and looked at me. “You don't need to watch this shit, baby. This next part's pretty fucking gruesome. Don't look – unless you really want to.”

  I turned my back. A minute later, there was a sizzling sound behind me, almost like bacon frying. My curiosity got the better of me. I looked back with my hand over my face and saw him spraying a solution over the corpse's hand.

  The other one was already smoking at the fingertips. “What're you doing to him?” I whispered quietly, wondering if I really wanted an answer.

  “Melting off his fingerprints and what's left of his fucked up face. Then this fat piece of shit's going in the dumpster.” He said it so matter-of-factly. “The guy who owns this place hauls his own trash out to the country every week and burns it. Too many junkies and too much contraband to risk turning it over to the city for waste disposal. He'll incinerate everything – including this fuck – but if anybody comes snooping around before he does, they'll never be able to identify this sack of shit.”

  I nodded glumly. All I needed to know. Jesus, this was his world, wasn't it?

  I'd been around hard bikers and outlaws all my life, but I'd never seen how they handled life and death up close before. My stomach churned, but it wasn't full blown panic. There was only numbness, relief, and – could it be? – gratitude. Admiration.

  The last ones swelled my heart when I stopped and stared at the man who'd just done me the biggest favor in the world.

  I took one more good look and nodded, thankful like I'd never been. Then I headed for the parking lot, hoping Rabid would join me as soon as he could.