by Adair Rymer
It struck me in that moment just how much of a spoiled little bully Molly was. When push came to shove, she was just a little bitch. I wondered how I had ever put up with such small people. Not just her but every shitty boss and every soul-sucking job.
Over the past several weeks, I had developed this stern hardness, like steel tempered in fire and cooled in oil. I wasn't scared or intimidated at what I'd become. I was just prepared to do whatever was necessary. Courtesy of Remy, I guess. Those princess dreams, that normal future fell flat in the face of who I was.
“One more word comes out of that ugly cock sock, and I'll tear your heart out through the cunt that I carve in your stomach.” My eyes narrowed as much as her's opened. Molly's entitled anger was vapor, it went up like flash paper when she saw the black fire in my cold eyes. Her confidence and superiority was replaced by abject terror at the severity of her mistake. She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that I wasn't bluffing.
And she was right. I wasn't bluffing.
“Who are you?” She stammered, on the verge of pissing herself.
“Fuck you, that's who I am. Now, run along, little meat-puppet, before daddy has to clean you off the pavement with a fucking shovel.”
* * * * *
Remy was sitting on the floor in the far side of our one room apartment, smoking. I put my bag down cautiously trying to asses the situation. He'd occasionally get lost in thought as he tried to work something out. This time though, he seemed more focused in his distant concentration than I'd seen him in a long time. It had me worried.
“Everything all right?” I tested the waters.
No answer.
“Remy?” I asked again.
He ignored me and took a pull from his cigarette, the cherry tip danced in his eyes, smoke streamed from his nose. Still nothing but that fiery gaze through the opposite wall. I half expected the wall to start smoldering any second.
“Rem—” His searing gaze snapped at me. I immediately felt uncomfortably warmer. I swallowed and continued. “Are you OK? Did something happen?”
At some point while speaking, he went from staring at me to staring through me. I felt translucent.
“Goddamnit! Talk to me!” Burn me, scream at me, anything to let me know you're still in there! I could deal with damn near anything at this point but not a rift between us. I needed him to be able to talk to me. All we had in this life was each other.
“I can't do it.” His voice was a guttural whisper.
“What? Can't do what?” I had no idea what he was talking about.
Remy shot up and whipped the ashtray at the far wall, shattering it, then kicked the nightstand and lamp across the room. The lamp was still plugged in and smashed with an electric flare and fizzle. I recoiled.
“All of it!” He screamed. “This playing house bullshit. I'm not cut out for the nine to five grind. 'Yes, sir.' 'No, sir.' All these toilsome, fucking, parasite jobs are eating away at me! I've never had more homicidal rage than working fucking retail! How the fuck do people do this and not kill everyone?”
He saw that his outburst had startled me and walked outside, slamming the door behind him.
I was hesitant in following him. He probably needed time to cool off. My heart was beating as fast as it had when we walked into the Lobos clubhouse when I was dressed as a stripper. Remy was a frightening man when he wanted to be. Just because a tiger was docile at times didn't make it less of a fucking tiger.
Once I stopped shaking, I started thinking about what he said. I thought back on all the jobs I had. All the shit that I had to put up with over the years. Between managers and customers, I had been trained to be an obedient little worker-bee that made just enough to continue working. It was a form of economic slavery.
I guess that's why I was going to college, to escape the cycle. Then I thought about all my insane school loans and the unemployment rate. I understood Remy's frustration, the normal world sucked. I wasn't timid enough for it any longer. I wasn't obedient enough to just fall in line anymore.
I went outside to find him sitting in the car. I opened the passenger door and sat next to him. I waited until he was ready to speak.
“I didn't mean to scare you,” he finally muttered.
“I know. What happened?
“I lost my job today.”
My creeping smile couldn't stem the laugh that escaped me. Remy was taken aback and eyed me suspiciously. Of all the possible responses that wasn't one that he'd expected.
“I'm sorry.” I finally got myself under control. “You too? We're one hell of a pair, huh?”
Remy's demeanor lightened. “You got fired today?” He cracked a slight smile and put a hand on my knee. “What happened?”
I told him about all the events of the last two weeks with Molly that culminated in me pulling a knife on her in the parking lot and threatening her.
“You told her you were going to tear her heart out through her pussy?” Remy chuckled.
“Something like that, yeah.” I covered my face with my hand in embarrassment. Remy pulled my hand away and kissed me. His face was coarse but I didn't mind the sting from his stubble. Those sweet, warm lips were all I cared about. I could lose myself in them.
“You're too good for that place anyways,” he said, when we eventually came up for air.
“What happened to you today?” I asked.
Remy told me about the robbery and how he thought it was a Lobos hangaround initiation. He told me what he'd done to the robber and what his boss had said to him.
“What bothers me the most is just how willing the Lobos were to pull this shit in their own backyard. They run their show with fear. That's why no one talks to the cops here because they know the Lobos will come knocking if they do and there isn't shit the cops can do about it. I can only imagine what they'd do in territories that the Veins had been pushed out of.” Remy shook his head. I could tell he was thinking about Leslie.
“There's something else I need to tell you.” It was very difficult to make this decision but Remy deserved the full truth, no matter what path it would lead us down. “Nachomama's is a money laundering front for the Lobos. The owner is related to one of the Lobos cabinet members, Spyder.”
Remy didn't look all that surprised, we were in Lobos country after all.
“I found out today,” I continued. “I overheard a conversation between the owner and Spyder. They were talking about expanding Nachomama's due to a lot more money coming in soon. Spyder said there was something big coming up next week that would let them know for sure when and if it was going to happen. They're planning on putting a location in Leslie...”
Remy's face went stiff. “They're going after something big enough to cripple the club.”
“What is it? What could they be talking about?” I asked.
“I don't know. I'll have to at least warn them.”
“Are you going to call T— your brother?” I couldn't say his name. My stomach turned. Thinking about Top made my skin crawl.
“No. He's already buried both his brothers. I should stay buried. Let him get past that. Tee, I'll call him instead. Give him the heads up.” I could feel the burning sorrow in his heart.
Remy desperately wanted to reconnect with his brother and his biker family. He was torn between wanting to help them and wanting to honor his vow to keep us safe and start a life together. It killed me to see that turmoil in him. I didn't want to be the burden he was sworn to carry. Eventually, he would resent me for it.
If I let things continue on like this, with him knowing he could've done more to help but turning his back on them because of me... It would poison everything we ever tried to build together. If I cared about him above all else then I would let him be the man he needed to be. I would let him do what he was good at despite the danger. I had to believe in Remy and give him the support he needed to spread his blackened wings and do whatever was necessary.
“Remy,” I took his hands in mine. He looked at me.“I want you to k
now that, whatever you decide needs to happen next, I'm with you. All the way. No matter what it is or what the consequences are.”
“Thank you.” Remy's brow furrowed upward, there was gratitude in his beautiful dark eyes. He wasn't one for spoken, soft pleasantries and preferred to show me his love with subtle actions, gestures or body language rather than drowning me in tedious manners. So whenever I heard it out loud, it mattered. It made my heart flutter.
Remy started the car and drove us to our door. “Grab the bag and lock up.”
“Where are we headed?” I asked stepping out of the car.
“To find a payphone, if they still exist.”
“And the bag?” We didn’t have that much money left in there, it was mostly just the guns. And for kind of a shitty area, we didn't have any problem with people trying to break in.
“You'll see,” Remy smiled. It was a smile thick with more fun than trouble... well, maybe a little trouble.
After a few hours of searching and asking around we'd given up on the phone booth hunt. Remy'd decided we needed the remainder of the light for whatever he had planned. We picked up a case of soda and drove deep into the desert. When we stopped in the middle of nowhere he finally told me what was going on.
“Pick out a gun you feel comfortable with. You're going to learn how to use it.” Remy opened the bag. He started holding them up and explaining them to me. What each was called, the various parts, how to load them and unload them. With extra care given to show me how to turn the safety on and off.
“Is this because of that whole safety thing?” I asked him. The incident made me a little wet just thinking about it. God, it was hot. CRAZY, but hot.
“No.” Remy stripped down a Beretta nine milometer, breaking it into five parts, then reassembling it in seconds. Then he looked up at me through a small gap he made between his extended thumb and index finger, a gesture that said 'a little' and mouthed the word 'maybe'.
I shoved him.
“You're pretty when you pout,” he said mockingly. I slid the magazine into the Beretta with a click and pointed it at him. He put his hands up like I had told him to freeze. Then I thumbed off the safety. “See, you're already learning. We're off to a great start.”
His hands and legs were a flash of motion as he stepped out of the path of the gun and stripped it from my hands. “Hey!” I protested.
“Now you just need to learn how to hold on to it.” He winked at me, flipping on the safety and tossing it back to me. “C'mon.”
He'd set up cans of soda all along a dying stone wall. I lined up the shot as best I could and pulled the trigger. Miss. My eyes had closed from the noise. He motioned for me to continue. I moved forward and tried again. As I pulled the trigger my eyes narrowed like I was expecting a blow. Miss. I moved forward and again pulled the trigger. Another miss. I emptied the rest of the magazine toward one can of soda, and I swore the last shot nicked it but the damn thing didn’t have the decency to fall over! I was terrible at this.
“This is impossible.” I'd decided handing the gun back to Remy. Remy reloaded it and fired off six quick shots, each hitting their marks and clearing the fence of soda cans. “Show off.”
“Here.” He loaded the gun and put it in my hand. “Hold it like this. Now—” Remy slung around, wrapping his body over mine from behind. I felt every part of him press into me. “Turn your head to the right a little. Just... Like that. Look down the barrel. You want to line up the front and rear sights. Should look like a capitol E laying on its back. You see it?”
“Yeah.” I was trying my hardest to concentrate but Remy was so close that I found myself just taking him in all over. My mind drifted to each part of him that touched me, the vibration in his voice as he explained the basics, the heat of his breath, his scent... Blam. “Fuck!”
“You OK?” He asked.
“Shit! Yeah, sorry. It just kinda went off. I'm sorry.” I was blushing but I don't think he saw, at least I hoped not. Focus, Star!
“Don't jerk the trigger. Squeeze it. Line up your shot and fire on your exhale.” His voice was warm-honey calm. So soothing and smooth, I could drink it.
I followed his directions, relaxed and fired. A can of soda exploded, the carbonated liquid spiraled it off the fence. I'd done it!
“Good. Now, the rest. Each hit, move back a few feet.” Remy released me to fire by myself. He leaned against the car and watched.
I went slow. Each shot spiraled a can, and moved me a couple feet further away from the cans and a little closer to Remy. Several rounds of reloads and additional targets later, I started feeling much more comfortable with the gun. I turned the death-dealing piece of metal and plastic over in my hands, wondering how I could've ever been so timid. I would never close my eyes when I fired again.
By my final set of targets, I was boiling. The sun had been beating down on us mercilessly, wavy clear lines of heat radiated off the red dirt ocean that surrounded us. I had to stop to remove the flannel button up I had on for fear that I might combust. I finished the clip and turned to Remy.
Remy was in process of peeling off his shirt. Thin beads of sweat rolled down through his matted chest hair, between his glistening abs and were absorbed into the band of his boxers. He used his shirt to wipe the dust and sweat from his face. The bullet scars on his chest from Bones, shined in the light. Only Remy could've survived something like that. He was too tough for death.
I'd never gotten the chance to see so much of his skin outside in the sun. Pale motel lights didn't do his figure any justice, he was all scars and ink over a battlefield of hard, ripped muscles. 'Steel Veins', the words were tattooed like a top rocker on his chest. Running up his arms were scratches and burns and tattooed grey lines made out to look like veins. Remy was the personification of everything my mother warned me about when bikers thundered by.
“Looks like you're a natural, ” he said.
“No help to you. You're the worst teacher ever. So distracting.” I stuffed the gun into the back of my jeans and walked over to him.
When I got close enough he pulled me into him and turned me around so that we were both facing the destroyed targets. “Yeah? And what do you call that?” He whispered, biting the top of my ear.
“That. Mmm... Was all me. I'm a natural.” His tongue tickled as it set fire to all the ridges in my ear. “You just stood around looking pretty.”
The gun slid out of my pants and landed with a metallic thud on the hood of the car before sliding off to crash against the packed ground. His hands glided over my stomach and up my tank top then down to pop the button on my jeans. He wasted no time in parting the metal teeth of my zipper and dropping both my jeans and panties to mid thigh. It was all so rough and quick as he moved me to wherever he saw fit. God, his hands were strong.
Bitter wind kicked up and dusted across my exposed flesh. I yearned for his touch but he left me there, waiting. His hardening cock, pressed sideways along the top of my ass, it fought for freedom against the denim prison. My pussy quivered in the sunlight. Touch me! I could scream.
We could fuck for days, like our lives depended on it, and still I would beg him for more.
Three strong fingers peeled back my bottom lip and dragged past my teeth. I all but swallowed them until they were cruelly ripped away to lay against my clit. My pussy strained against the weight of his fingers as they massaged me up and down. The pressure was devilish. It built upon itself harder and faster, his fingers pulsed between my lower lips and over my clit.
Faster still, my back arched, my eyes closed. It felt like all the sensation was drained from my limbs to hum on that one golden spot between my legs. I vibrated relentlessly. He wouldn't stop till I came. My hips bucked. My inhales were sharp, my exhales ragged.
A shiver flashed through from my spine. Everything was electric. I grabbed his hand and together got me off. I let out a long choppy moan, like it was a boat and all the sea was my orgasm. Any soreness and stiffness I had from firing the gun dissolved i
nstantly.
He wasn't done with me. Not by a long shot. Remy spun me around, jerked me into him, the bulge in his pants, impossible to miss, stabbed into me. The pressure whet my appetite, I was famished. Ravenous. Carnal impulses took me over, I couldn't think straight. Then he switched gears completely and fucked me all up.
He kissed me.
The sweetness of it took me completely by surprise. It was a fairytale kiss, one that could've revived a sleeping princess. With a man like Remy, it was easy to forget just how loving and light he could be. Jesus, he made me feel like I was floating.
His lips, closed at first, were cracked but moist. Inviting. They wandered across mine, parting slightly more with each supple impact. A hundred little explosions of warmth and love reverberated through me. And with a parting smack of our lips, that tender moment was over. He pulled away and looked at me. There were flecks of deep red hidden in those dark eyes that I'd never noticed before. It was beautiful.
Those beautiful dark eyes narrowed. Everything behind those long lashes burned away. Heavy, bloody lust was all that remained. Heights and depths, that's what Remy Daniels was. I swallowed hard, waiting for the plunge.
I was turned back around, gentle at first. I knew that wouldn't last long. In a heartbeat I found myself bent over the hood of the car. More thrown onto it really. The car had been off long enough for the engine to cool so it wasn't scorching but it was still damn hot from baking in the desert sun. My tits pressed into the top of the sun-soaked metal, the bra took most of the heat but my hands and hips weren't spared.
“Ow,” I hissed, ripping my hands away from the metal. Remy stopped immediately. I tested the hood, my skin acclimated to the heat. “It's OK. I'm OK.” I reached for him, I didn't want him to stop.
He kindly obliged, swatting my hand away. In one savage motion, my pants and panties were yanked down by my feet. A bead of sweat sailed down the back of my knees. I felt his tongue catch it, it nearly made me swoon. He traced its path back up my thigh, in a long line to my bent-over ass. My knees buckled but strong arms hoisted me back up. I was his, to do with as he pleased. As his tongue hit the meaty part of my ass, it disappeared and was immediately replaced with his teeth. Biting one cheek while squeezing and spreading apart the other.
