The Crow Bar was the typical biker bar that was dimly lit by Tiffany lamps hanging low and two pool tables in the back along with a digital jukebox. The song “Crazy Bitch” by Buckcherry was playing at that moment. I took in the scene and found the Hounds through the cloud of cigarette smoke coming from the pool tables. Two Hounds were playing a game of pool. The third Hound sitting in a chair, medium build, dark hair. And Sam was sitting on his lap, looking right me.
Sam
I knew it was Ratchet the minute he walked in. He was so tall and wide, taking broad steps as he walked with a confident swagger. Not cocky, just assured. He grabbed a bar stool and lit his cigarette and tilted the beer bottle up to his lips. Then he turned in my direction and his eyes locked in on me. Sitting on Sid’s lap.
Please don’t say anything… just look the other way, I said to my myself, both hoping and dreading that I would ever see Ratchet again. I thought every day about that rainy night at Bike Week when he kissed me. And I kissed him back. He tasted of whiskey and cigarettes. That weird feeling of butterflies fluttering in in my stomach when I felt his hardness pressed up against me. Then something snapped. The warm and tingly feeling suddenly frightened me. Images flashed through my mind. Hands were grabbing and bruising my flesh. Teeth biting, fists punching, my body violated, repeatedly.
I was stunned but relieved that Ratchet stopped. Even when I could see the hunger in his eyes, he stopped. No man had ever stopped before. That’s why I felt guilty for slipping a good dose of crushed up Xanax into his flask when he was in the bathroom. I pretended to be asleep as he was drinking outside. When he passed out next to me, I took his t-shirt off and put my wet clothes back on. I knelt and pulled his wallet from the pocket of his jeans and snatched up the five hundred dollars and shoved it in my pocket. Put my boots back on, grabbed my back-pack and slipped out of the motel room unnoticed by anyone.
Sudden pain shot through the back of my scalp as a handful of my hair was snatched violently and pulled, flinging my head back.
“What you lookin’ at, Bitch?” Sid whispered next to my cheek with a clenched jaw.
His fist still in my hair, his eyes turned toward the bar, where Ratchet and his brother were sitting.
“Well… Well… Is that the Chaos you fucked that night at Bike Week? That night you fuckin’ took off and left me?”
“I didn’t fuck him, Sid…,” I stammered, “I just took his money…”
“Yea. Well, at least you had enough fuckin’ smarts to get the cash after you got done suckin’ his cock.”
Sid was the Vice President of the Hell Hounds MC. He was sadistic and liked to hurt me in any way he could without killing me. I was pretty much his property. He could do things to me, and no one would stop him. He used me in every conceivable way, whether to help push drugs or pass me around for even more money.
He had a medium build, and he was quick. His dark hair was always spiked out and messy. His dark eyes had a sinister gleam to them. He didn’t have a club name. His real name was Sid, and some called him Sadistic Sid.
He pushed me off him and stood. I staggered ahead a few stops to stop my fall. He grabbed my arm, “Come on. Let’s go. I guess I have to show you again why it’s not good to run from me ever again bitch… Rusty! Tweek! Put the fuckin’ sticks down. Let’s go play out back.”
Sid pushed me forward to walk ahead of him down the hall toward the bathrooms and out the back door. Once outside, I turned around to face him. He stepped up to me and looked into my eyes and smirked. His eyes slowly roamed down my body.
“Rusty, take her arms and keep her still.”
Rusty was suddenly behind me. He took both my arms and pulled them behind me. I had to arch my back as Rusty brushed his reddish greasy beard against my cheek. He inhaled deep and moaned into my ear as he exhaled, “Mm… you even smell like a whore…”
The switchblade was out of Sid’s pocket, and my tank top made a ripping sound as he sliced it down the middle with the blade. He flicked the blade in between my bra, and it snapped open. I felt the night air on my breasts, making my nipples harden against my will.
“You have gorgeous fuckin’ tits, Sam,” he pressed the tip of the blade against my right nipple, “If you ever run from me again, I will cut your tits off. Then what will you be? A worthless cunt without tits.”
How many times had I been threatened? Beaten? Humiliated? Raped? My fight or flight mode kicked in. And this time my fight mode was leading the race, matching the speed of my fast beating heart.
“Go ahead, Sid. Do it,” I heard my own voice. And Sid heard it too.
“Bitch!” he yelled.
The last thing I remembered was the back of his hand making contact with the right side of my face. Then everything went black.
Ratchet
When I saw the little rabbit sitting on that Hell Hound’s lap, I knew who and what she was running from.
I nudged Gunner to look my way, “Hey, brother. There’s the girl who stole my money at Bike Week.”
I didn’t wait to hear Gunner because I was off my barstool and headed toward the piece of shit Hound with a fistful of Sam’s hair. He pushed her little body off his lap and propelled her down the hall toward the back door. The other Hounds were right behind them.
“Hold up, Ratchet. I’m comin’ with you.”
I heard Gunner tell Grease to get us both another beer, and he was two steps behind me.
Sam
I was drowning. I could see the surface of the water and tried to come up for air. But hands held my arms and legs under just beneath the surface, pulling me down deeper. I needed to break that surface for my next breath of air to keep me alive. I started to scream underwater, and bubbles escaped from my mouth and floated upward past me, to the surface.
“No!” I heard my own cry and opened my eyes. I was in a bed. My head on a pillow. I smelled leather and looked down. I was covered in a big heavy black leather jacket. I looked back up and into the eyes of the Chaos King, sitting in a wooden chair a few feet away. The same man I drug and stole money from.
I was suddenly up and sitting on the edge of the bed. Ratchet reached me in a heartbeat, “Its ok, Rabbit. You’re safe.” He came to sit next to me.
“What happened?” I asked as I looked around. It was a small bedroom with a full-size bed, a nightstand and a wooden chair. The walls were white and empty of any pictures or décor.
“I found you knocked out cold behind the Crow Bar. Those Hell Hounds roughed you up a bit.” His brows were drawn together. “I borrowed Greaser’s truck and brought you here to my clubhouse.”
The dream of drowning. Fear and anxiety jolted through me.
“I gotta go. Sid and the Hounds are looking for me now.”
His big arm came around me, preventing my attempt to get off the bed.
“Hold on now. You might have a concussion. You should get checked out first.”
I felt the heat from his body, his big arm wrapped around my shoulders.
“I’m ok. Really. I can’t stay here. I have to go.”
“I’m gonna talk to my Prez and VP. We’ll figure somethin’ out. You can stay here in the clubhouse for a few days.”
I leaned away from him, placing my hands on his hard chest.
“No… Thanks, Ratchet, but if I stay here at your clubhouse, Sid and the Hell Hounds will just find me again, and I don’t want you and your club to become part of all this.”
He pushed off the bed and walked toward the door. He stopped and ran his hand through his messy dark hair. He shook his head and turned back around.
“I know now why you were running, Sam. And you are still running. If you want out, I’ll help. My club will help. This is my tribe, Sam. The Chaos Kings. We are good people. We take care of our own. You’re safe here. I can protect you.”
It didn’t register what this hulk of biker said to me. Safe? Protected? I was never safe. No one ever protected me. And why would he want to? He could have done anything he wanted to me t
hat night in his motel room. Just like Sid and all those other men.
“We’ll get you situated with some clothes and things first.” His eyes roamed my body, but he couldn’t see much with the huge black leather jacket that covered it.
“What size do you wear, Rabbit? You weighed next to nothing when I carried you to the truck… I can ask one of the ol’ ladies to do some shopping and get you some clean clothes.”
Ratchet
She could have gotten killed. Maybe if I didn’t look in her direction at the Crow Bar, that fucker wouldn’t have knocked her out cold and left her there in that puddle out back. My fault I put her in that jam. Well, it was done. The Hell Hounds just left her there. My heart pounded hard against my chest when I found her. I cradled her head in my lap as I drove her to the clubhouse, hoping she’d come to. I wasn’t going to let her scamper off again. And not back to the Hounds.
I called Rocky, my Prez. Asked him to meet me at the clubhouse.
I got some coffee with lots of cream and sugar for Sam. She sat in the bedroom I put her in the night before and headed out to the parking lot, lighting up a smoke. I greeted Rocky and our VP, Spider as they pulled on their dressers.
Rocky was as bulked up like me, keeping his head bald and sported a beard that was more grey than brown. Spider was leaner in build, a bit tall and lanky with long dark hair that he usually kept tied back. The chicks loved to braid it for him, and he never turned down an offer.
“Prez… VP….” We gave each other a round of brotherly hugs.
“How’s it hangin’, Ratchet?” Rocky released me from his bear hug.
“Gotta situation and need to bounce some things off both of you both.”
They knew about that night at Bike Week and how Sam laced my flask and took off with my cash. I rehashed what happened last night at the Crow Bar and that Sam was under my protection now. I needed my brothers to back me up. That I’m going to help her get out.
“Well, brother… We don’t mingle with those fuckin’ dogs. They are bad news. Been bad news for a long time. They leave us alone. We leave them alone. It sounds like this girl is in deep with them. Maybe she just needs a break. You could just bang her. Have a little fun and then when she’s had her fun, she might want to go back. What is it about her that got you wanting to help her? Maybe she doesn’t want any help.”
“I got Mandi to bang. And she’s already a fuckin’ handful.”
“I bet she is, brother!” Rocky landed a playful jab on my shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah. And I don’t need another handful. Sam’s been banged up bad before. I’m sure of it. And I bet worse than how I found her last night.”
“Ok, Ratchet. Let’s give her a few weeks. She can stay here at the clubhouse for a bit till you can figure out what her game plan is. We’ll be here, brother. Anything you need. Hell, we could use some help to keep this clubhouse from turning into a shitty dive bar after a weekend of partyin’ and fuckin’!”
“Hells yeah, Ratchet. I’m with Rocky. Do what needs to get done to help the girl out,” Spider reaffirmed what Prez said.
Helping around the clubhouse was a solution to how Sam would pay me back the money she stole. And it was a way I could keep an eye on her.
The next day the right side of Sam’s temple was a bit red and would probably turn a shade of purple before it would heal completely. I gave a wad of cash to the Prez’s ol’ lady, Madge and she went to the local mall and bought some clothes for Sam. The look on her face when she opened the bags full of girl stuff was like a kid at Christmas who didn’t expect anything. And then there it was – that amazing smile.
A smile that made my dick jump and the front of my jeans suddenly tight. I needed to stop picturing her lips around it or stop wondering what her pussy tasted like. Felt like. And I had a sure bet she tasted sweet and felt so fuckin’ good as I buried my dick deep inside her.
Then my thoughts sobered up. I had another sure bet that she experienced real fuckin’ hell with the Hounds that she wouldn’t want to share with me. I remember the hell I was living in when I was a kid. That hell was James Racette the First. I was James Racette the Second. Named after my father. What he did to me. What he did to my mother…. Telling me I was just like him.
And that’s why I had to keep those thoughts of Sam out of my head and focus on helping her. She needed her space. Not be crowded, especially from another man who only thinks about fucking her every minute of the day.
She seemed to be on the petite side naturally, but I knew she needed to get a little more food in her to fill out that sexy curvy figure she had. I told her to get dressed in some of the clothes Madge picked out for her because I wanted to take her out for breakfast. And it would be good just to have some alone time between us and talk.
I was standing by my bike, finishing up a smoke and waiting for Sam. She walked out of the clubhouse toward me, and my heart skipped a few beats. She used one of the showers in the clubhouse and wore some of those new clothes – a flowy red tank top and some tight ass jeans that hugged her in all the right places, along with her black riding boots.
“Madge got the right sizes for me.” She looked down at her new clothes. And so did I.
“Huh? Oh… yeah. She did good, Sam.” I had to peel my eyes away from her for a moment and coughed.
A light breeze carried the scent of her still damp hair to my nose. She smelled like strawberries or something fuckin’ fruity. There went my cock again. The sweet scent and those tight ass jeans made my cock jump yet again… She looked back up at me with that smile.
“You look really nice, Sam…,” I grumbled, sounding like a fuckin’ dork.
It was a pleasant ride to the diner with the little rabbit sitting behind me on my bike. The trees were budding, and things were blooming again. I hoped the spring air helped Sam’s mood. I knew she had experience riding on the back of a bike and I could sense her relaxed posture behind me. She didn’t have to, but she wrapped her arms around my waist, and her inner thighs were pressed up against mine.
I pulled the bike into a small parking lot at the Knotty Pine. It was a breakfast diner that had been in business since the 1950’s in the old town of Front Royal. Breakfast diner in the front. Biker bar in the back. We went to the front and sat in a booth. We both ordered a full plate of eggs, sausage, hash browns, and toast. I didn’t know how she did it, but she finished her plate the same time I did. She leaned back against the booth and burped. It was the cutest.
“Oops. excuse me…,” Sam giggled. And that was fuckin’ adorable too.
I couldn’t help but smirk.
“We need to get this out of the way… About my money you took at Bike Week.”
Her smile faded, “Yeah I know. I want to apologize for that. That was wrong of me.”
“And you spiked my flask, Sam. What did you put in it?”
“Xanax… a few doses…”
“Well that was the right amount of doses.”
“I’ll accept your apology, but you’re not getting off that easy. I talked to my Prez and VP. You can pay me back by helping at the clubhouse for a few weeks. Help keep get the place cleaned up. This weekend is Memorial Day and the Rolling Thunder ride to the Wall. It’s also a weekend-long excuse to party at the clubhouse. It’s open house to other bikers who are friends of the club. You can help the other girls behind the bar. That will make us even. Deal?”
“Yes. It’s a deal, Ratchet.”
“It’s James. My name is James Racette. Club calls me Ratchet.”
I didn’t know why I told her my real name when I only knew her for a few weeks. And I’m not sure why her eyes lit up when I told her.
“It’s a deal, James.”
We pulled into the clubhouse lot and there she was headed right to us. Mandi… I forgot to fuckin’ call her the night I brought Sam to the clubhouse. Mandi. Tall, blond with long legs that fit just right wrapped around me when I pounded into her. She had nice tits too, but they were paid for and didn’t have that na
tural sexy bounce to them when I watched her ride my dick. Mandi liked it rough too, though. She liked the faint bruises I left on her hips and ass because of my rough grip. Sometimes I didn’t realize how hard my grip was. But instead of complaining, she begged for more. She was a sweet butt and fucked some of the other club members. But for now, I was her club flavor of the month.
“Who the fuck is this short skank, Ratchet?” she yelled across the lot as I kicked the stand down.
Sam got off, her eyes locked on Mandi as she approached us.
“She’s not a skank, Mandi. Her name’s Sam, and she’s helping out around the clubhouse for a few weeks. Sam this is Mandi.”
“Yeah, I’m sure she’s gonna help around the clubhouse,” Mandi turned to Sam, “By giving out blowjobs behind the fuckin’ bar!”
“Just cool down, Mandi. I’ll meet you inside. We’ll talk.”
“Fuck you, Ratchet!” she barked at me and flipped Sam off with a smile and walked away from us to her white Nissan. She spun tires and gravel, leaving the lot.
Not only was I going to watch over Sam, but I would also need her to steer clear of Mandi. I knew I was going to have to fuck her fierce just to reassure her that everything was fine and normal in her fucked up shallow world.
Sam turned back to me, “I don’t want to cause any problems between you two.”
“Sorry about that. She sees you on my bike, so her claws came out. Just stay clear of her for now, Sam.”
Sam
Riding with Ratchet that morning helped me get some fresh air into my lungs and clear my fuzzy head. The wind was pushing against my face and the scent of things blooming felt good. And I smelled his leather jacket and his male scent which both comforted me and made me dizzy with this yearning I had between my legs. I never felt this before being so close to a man. He was so big and tall which frightened me like that rainy night in his room. But he didn’t try anything on me or make me feel uncomfortable. I was not used to that either.
Salvation in Chaos (CKMC Book 1) Page 2
