He continues, “As for the rest of this week’s agenda, I expect everyone to be on the lookout for more from the Bonebreakers. We got final word that Noah’s guy Brandon was the snitch who led them here. And if they are able to turn one of our guys, they may try to do it again. If I were Zane Oaks and the Rock, I would be going after anything vulnerable, so be vigilant. You see something, you report back to me ASAP. No solo missions until I give the all clear. Do you hear me?”
I say “Aye” under my breath as the room dismisses. Everyone heads outside towards their bikes, the women following suit with their men. Violet appears out of nowhere as she slides on the back of my bucket. She stares me down as I question her. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I need a ride. You’re going to give me one.”
“Hell no, girl. Get your own fucking ride with one of the pledges. I don’t take women on my bike.”
“No, Noah.” She leans across the seat and pats the top of the handlebars gently, “I’m riding with you whether you like it or not.”
The train of motorcycles is already leaving, and I don’t have much choice. I toss her a helmet and get on the front. Her arms encircle my waist as I feel the rest of her body snuggle up to me. Her bare chest leans across the leather of my jacket. She moans out as the engine begins to rev up.
Thankfully, the drive to the cemetery is short. All of our boys are buried in one location with their women and children, if they got them. The three today are buried in their colors with caskets black as the night. After the short ceremony, the civilians gather up around the rows of motorcycles to watch Griz start the process. He stands beside his bike and starts the engine, the purr echoes off of the grassy hills and trees. The rest of the men follow except for me as the Tail. I just stand there waiting it all out. Griz then revs his bike three times, one for each of our fallen. Again, the rest of the group follows.
As the engines idle, Griz walks to the widow, the mother, and the brother and greets them all with short hugs or handshakes. He hands them a patch in honor of their dead and pats them all on the shoulders. The women cry. The man stays sober, not daring to look Griz in his eye.
Griz then returns to his bike and slowly rides off. The second, third, and fourth row of men follow with their riders. I’m last to pick up the pack. It’s a place of honor. But I hate sharing it with a whore like Violet who is making sport out of the funeral by winking and flirting with every guy she comes across. I’m not an exception.
Even back at the bar, she’s all over me, demanding I buy her shots with the rest of the gang. She places one of the shot glasses to my lips, the cold glass forcing my lips open. She pops it back as I sink it down quickly. I rap my knuckles on the wood of the bar, “Another!”
Violet’s sitting on my lap by the time I’ve had four more. The smell of her perfume mixes with my whiskey and the feel of her soft skin rubbing against the skin of my hand is reminding me what life before this mess with Opal and her teacher was like. This was the man I was supposed to be! Rough, raw, ready. Violet’s young little ass bouncing on my lap is what this is meant to be.
With each drink, I’m able to erase Faye just a little bit more from my mind. I do my best to get rid of her smell, her taste, all her OCD bullshit -- how she places her pencils and desks in neat and even rows, how she wipes dirt off of things, how her purse is always perfectly organized in every little pocket. I push aside her sea foam pink lips and her long hair tickling my chest. I’m forgetting what it feels like to hold someone and to actually care if it means something to her.
No, tonight is all about Violet. She leads me by my hand towards the bathroom, and I don’t fight it. I don’t protest; I don’t even want to, not really. I want this as much as she does. We walk towards the side room with the big ‘Employees Only’ sign, and I push her forcefully up against the wooden plank walls. She lifts her arms above her head as I tear off her tank top, tossing it carelessly to the side. My hands immediately go for her breasts, feeling the round softness of her young, perky body.
Violet is luscious, the perfect specimen of women. Her enormous tits point straight out, nipples hard and at attention, calling out my name as I massage them eagerly, tweaking them, not giving a fuck if she likes it or not. She arches her back as she whispers lewdly, “Do you like them, Noah?”
I can’t answer her. I hate when my fuck partners talk like that. I just want to focus on the fantasy before me, not constantly reassure her. I punish her by taking the dark brown nipple on her left breast between my fingers and twisting hard – once – twice – three times. She sinks down towards her knees from the shock and the pain. I repeat it on the other side as she slams her hands into the wall. “Jesus!” she cries, “Fuck! You nasty motherfucker. So good, so very good !”
She returns the favor by wrapping her arms around my neck and jumping into my body. I catch her legs and wrap them around my hips. Her lips find mine and she plows her tongue in. I return it, kissing her eagerly ‘til I need air. But she continues to hold on, pulling me closer as if she just cannot get enough. She’s insatiable, which is exactly what I need tonight.
I spin her around and drop her onto the cement floor, not worrying too much about her comfort. If she wants to protest, she can. She doesn’t. Instead, she hitches her legs up, spreading them easily for me to sink down in between. I come back up to her breasts, opening my mouth and sucking on the nipples as she squeals in delight. Her body wiggles under me, her hips twisting as I use my tongue to draw vertical and horizontal lines across her sensitive, olive skin. I nibble on them, pulling on them with my teeth. She cries out in pleasure again, egging me on, so this time, I suck as hard as I can, then pull her nipple farther out with my teeth, stretching it. She screams, and I immediately send my hand up to her mouth, covering it. “Shut the fuck up,” I say looking her hard in the eyes, and she squeals with delight at my insistent command.
She wants it, and bad. She pulls off my shirt and throws it towards the door. I unhook my belt and pants and slide them off with my boots. I then slither my hips up the length of her body towards her head. As I rest on her shoulders, she looks up at me and my cock, already hard and alert for her.
“Suck,” I command. She props herself up on her arms and opens her mouth wide enough to take in my tip. I rock my hips forward and place it into her waiting red lips. Her tongue dances around my head. The sweet and wet sensation messes with my mind as much as the booze, as I lean back and hold on to her hips for balance. Another inch eases into her expanse, and her mouth continues to tease me.
I sit back up and prop to my knees, forcing my cock even further into her. She pulls her mouth off and begins licking my cock like a popsicle. “What the fuck are you doing, bitch?” I growl. “I didn’t say to lick it. I said to suck it. Suck my fucking cock.”
Her mouth fills with my shaft, and she nods, the corners of her lips transforming into a devilish grin. She rocks her head back a bit before diving forward, taking the entire length of me into her throat.
I groan loudly as I watch her head bob up and down between my legs. I can see the red ruby lipstick she’s wearing smudge on my skin as she adds a bit of pressure to it. As she speeds up her motions, I use my hands to guide her with the speed I want it. And I want it rough and fast.
I lean back again to see the show. One of my hands catches between her skirt as I pull on the fabric as her mouth starts to clamp down on my skin. I push my hand higher into her crotch and yank the panties to the side. Her small pussy is wet and soft, and I let my hand rest between her thighs before I pull it back and place my palm to my mouth. She tastes incredible, and her smell lingers in the air.
I lick my fingers, wetting them down before returning them between her panties again. This time, I spread her folds as wide as possible before entering my pointer finger. Vibrations against my cock stir me as she moans out in pleasure. She stops sucking and lies back towards the ground as I continue to finger around her soft insides.
Her clit is well hidden un
der the skin, but I find the nub with my thumb. As my pointer finger spins around, I press down hard on it. She reels, throwing herself up towards me. Her bare, large breasts take my cock as she squeezes her tits together. I rock back and forth against the skin, loving the feel of the new friction.
Violet massages them with the motion of my finger as we both are in time with each other’s bodies. As I pick up my tempo and dive another finger in, she opens her mouth, allowing me to enter as I move my cock up her breastbone. I pull out and head back down, traveling the length of her chest and neck.
I feel her body tense and shake under me. She’s close. I can tell by how she pushes her hips into my hand as she begs me to go deeper or harder. I refuse. Every part of me is telling me to let her orgasm, but I can’t bring myself to let her. I want that pleasure myself. I pull my hand out as I hear her cry out, and I flip her to her stomach from under my legs.
“Noah, please!” She can barely just get the words out of her mouth before I can prop her ass up in the air and rip the remaining clothing off of her body. I enter her sopping pussy with one deep, long stroke of my cock inside of her. She presses her hands up against her head for support as I begin to rock quickly. I’m relentless; I just want to enjoy her little body. I pin her shoulders down and thrust into her, feeling her pussy respond to my insistent pulsing. She bites her bottom lip to muffle a scream of pleasure. This slut is fucking loving it.
Her body springs me back with each motion. For every push, there’s a pull. For ever hit of my hips against her curvy ass, there’s a slap back. I go as hard and deep as I can. I can feel her orgasm under me, the rush of her fluids trickling down my balls and onto her thighs. But I can’t stop for that. She gets no rest until I’ve gotten what I came for.
The booze takes over as the room starts to spin. I hold onto her waist for support and traction as I push on, thrusting harder and harder. I throw my head back and bite down on my lip as I cry out, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” My cock feels like it’s going to explode. I push as deeply as I can, finishing with five slow pushes. As I feel my own orgasm coming on, I pull out just in time to cover her silky, tattooed back in an eruption of creamy cum.
Almost immediately, I’m picking up my clothes and putting them on. I don’t want to take my time or enjoy this one. As the fog of a pretty intense cum clears, my head and chest swell with regret, Faye instantly coming to mind. Violet was far from her, despite her being so willing. She had no fight, no grit. There was no personality. Normally, I’d love that; a quickie fuck in the back of a restaurant or bar was just another night for me. But now that I had that ‘something more,’ I wanted it all the time. Nothing else was going to do.
Violet reaches for a roll of napkins and hands it to me. I wipe myself off and then her back. She doesn’t say a word as she grabs her shirt and adjusts her skirt and panties.
Suddenly, the silence is broken as we hear a thundering knock as a voice calls out tersely, “Noah! Fuck! We need you.”
I find my pants and the rest of my outfit by the doorway and quickly put them back on. It’s not like any club member to interrupt a fuck session. But with being on high alert from the last Bonebreaker attack, it sends both Violet and I racing towards where we last were.
Back inside the bar’s main room, everyone is gathered in a circle around Griz. He’s standing on a chair as he reads off a phone. I don’t catch what he is saying over everyone’s commotion. I push past some of the younger men ‘til I get to his feet. I realize quickly that no one is looking at Griz anymore. They are all staring at me with horrified, angered faces.
Griz looks down towards me jumps from his seat. He takes me by the shoulder and turns me away from the crowd cramming in to eavesdrop on whatever he needs to tell me. He mutters as he says, “Noah, it’s Opal. They took her.”
I shake my head, asking him to repeat himself. Surely, what he is saying isn’t true. It’s some joke, some sick joke being played on me by one of the guys. Maybe it’s a test from one of my rivals loyal to Leo even in his death.
But Griz doesn’t seem to be in on it. And the longer it takes me to process it, the more he slows his voice, “Opal, Faye, the roommate. They’re gone.
My mind goes blank as I force myself to see this as a reality. I stammer as I try to process what I need to say. I want confirmation, “They took her?”
Griz nods as he explains, “The Bonebreakers. Her and that teacher that’s watching her. The patrol just found our pledges outside of their posts shot dead, their bikes and jackets stolen. When they checked over at the teacher’s house, there was an open door and a note.”
Griz places the phone in my shaking hand as I lean down to read the tiny digital picture of the crudely handwritten note, “This is for Brandon and the night of the attack. Don’t fuck with the Bonebreakers again. Blood for blood. -- Zane Oaks.”
I drop the phone to the ground, and look around. The faces are somber and cold. No one is quite sure what to do. Trigger and Big Tusk are at my side almost immediately as they begin to shout about revenge and promises to find her as soon as they come up with a plan. Griz joins in, bringing the war cries to a fever pitch.
Despite that, I stay quiet. I have no words. All I can hear is the sound of Opal’s voice as she is taken away from me by social services. Now, that record is on repeat, replaying each horrible moment with the added sound of Faye’s cries to the mix. Both of them are in danger and no one here is moving on this. No one wants to go now.
But I do. Without turning back, I head out the door towards where I parked my motorcycle. With or without the Disciples, I’m going after my girls.
Chapter 25 FAYE
I can’t breathe. My knees are pushed all the way up to my chest, and I am struggling to catch fresh air over the dank smell of the exhaust seeping in through the trunk. Sherri is rolled over partially on top of me. From the dim flashlight rolling around by our feet, I can see that her eyes are still closed and the little trail of blood from her forehead has stopped actively bleeding. I have no idea if she is alive or dead. I close my eyes, trying to remember what exactly is going on.
It comes to me in flashes. Three days ago, Opal and I were upstairs working on a history project for her alternative classroom when we heard a bang. It was the sound of the door flying off of its hinges. Then came Sherri’s scream and the drop of something hard and metal on the kitchen floor. I ran to our door, shutting it quietly. Turning back towards a frightened Opal, I tried to suppress my own fear as I instructed her, “You have to hide! Go into the closet, in the very corner. Hide behind one of my storage tubs. Don’t come out no matter what. I mean it.”
She had only gotten about halfway back before I heard them running up the stairs, shouting for us to come out. I threw the doors to the closet shut just in time – half a second later, the opened the door. There were four of them -- large, burly men, wearing black jackets with patches just like Noah’s. At first, I thought they may be with the Disciples, but when they began to instruct me onto the ground, I knew instantly who it was.
“Where’s the girl?” the leader of the group with his long, stringy beard stared me down from behind the barrel of a handgun. “Tell me where she is!”
“What girl?” I played dumb. It was my only defense.
He motioned to one of his friends and he walked over, grabbed me by my hair, and yanked me down to the ground. I was inches from the leader’s boots when he screams it again, “The girl! Where the fuck is Noah Cruz’ daughter?”
I looked up at his pant legs and said defiantly, “I don’t know who you mean.”
The only thing I remember fully after that is his boot raising over my head, a sting of searing white pain, and then – blackness.
When I came to, both my ears were ringing, and I had a nasty headache. I brought my hand to where the bastard had kicked me, but as I did so, I felt hands grab my arms away from me and stand me up. One of them pinned me up against the wall. I could make out the leader’s voice, seething, “If this bitch ain’
t gonna talk, we’re gonna have to figure out a way to force her.”
I fluttered my eyes open, and I saw him lift his hand above his head. I cowered down, trying to get as far from him as possible, though I knew it was fruitless. As he came towards me, though, I heard Opal’s small voice cry out, “Wait! Don’t hurt her! I’m here – I’m right here!”
“Opal, no!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my voice going hoarse.
The men laughed as they let me down to turn their attention to her. The leader circled her like a wolf, tousling her hair. “So,” he said slowly, “you’re the Opal Cruz, the Vice’s daughter? You don’t look like anything worth protecting. But I’ve got my orders.”
He snapped his fingers, and one of the men grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder. She screamed, reaching out her arms towards me as I tried to fight back against the man holding me. I watched as he took her out of my sight. That was the last time I saw her, the last time I heard her voice.
BIKER’S GIFT Page 42
