by Ryder Dane
“What kind of a sick psycho are you? We’re tied up and can’t fight back.”
Barney didn’t miss a beat, he stepped over to the kid and pulled the knife from his boot. When he’d sliced through the tape, he pulled the guy to his feet. He grabbed the filthy shirt covering a scrawny chest and shook him like a rag. “Boy, you wanna fight? I’ll be happy to let you take the first swing, but you’d better be prepared to have your ass handed to you.” The kid nodded, and several groans were heard behind him.
The little bastard had guts. Baron looked closer at the kid. He was skinny, but he didn’t act like the rest of them. He wasn’t twitchy or sobbing. He looked healthier than the others too. Barney was ready to square off with the kid, and Baron saw the way the boy shook out his muscles, and balance on his toes, before taking a stance. “Hang on a minute, Barney, let’s make this fight is nice and fair, after all we don’t want to send the boy home in a bag without giving him a fair fight, right? Let’s take it to the yard.” Chaucer went inside to let the men that wanted to see the entertainment know the boy challenged Barney.
Barney was a sociopathic little rooster on his best days. He was smaller than most of the brothers and he tried to make up for his size in actions. He wanted to be the first to fight, the first to get laid, the first to kill. He wasn’t quiet about his accomplishments at the club either. The brother liked to brag about what a big man he was. He was not the only one with sociopathic tendencies, but he was the most annoying about it.
It was still raining, and the ground was soaked. The floodlights showing the backyard were lit up and everyone had a good view of the men. When Baron stood under the roof over the deck, most of the men inside came out to join him. Bruin stood close and eyed the opponents. “Which one do you have money on?”
The younger man smiled and told him, “I didn’t place a bet, but my money would be on the kid.” He went out in the yard to tell the kid the rules. “He beats your ass, you are advised to stay down, if you don’t, he might kill you. Now how about you tell me what your name is and where you’re from so I know where to send you back?”
The kid grudgingly told him, “My name’s Bobby Dee, I come from a spot in the road called Bono in Arkansas.” Baron noticed the kid looked him in the eye when he talked to him, he also didn’t slump while he was standing there. Yes indeed, there’s more to you than meets the eyes.
“Okay, this is a man on man fight, no knives, or guns. Show us a good fight, boys, we’re stuck with each other at least until morning. Some of us are bored and need more entertainment.” He left them standing in the yard and climbed back onto the deck. “Anytime you girls are ready, do it.”
Chaucer was yelling for his buddy and giving him tips, Zippy came over to Baron, and leaned close. “That kid is gonna wipe the grass with Barney. Do you see how he balances himself? I saw my little sister in her self-defense class stand like that. Thinking I might have to pay the boy for whippin’ Barney’s ass, 'cause I sure would like to see it happen.”
Burger swallowed his beer and belched. “That kid claimed he was just here to talk to Robert Mueller. Said he was wandering around outside when the greybeard showed up. He hid under the deck when the guy started wandering around himself. Once the others showed up, he stayed in his hiding spot.” He shrugged his wide shoulders, “One trespasser is the same as another.” He turned back to the house and went inside.
Barney landed a couple of punches before the kid got his shit together and began to use the older man as a heavy bag. He wasn’t using street fighting, the boy was doing some serious damage to Barney’s body with kicks and flat fisted punches. Zippy had to turn his head away from Chaucer’s sight, because Chaucer was still encouraging his boy to “beat that little motherfucker’s ass.” Baron had to stifle a smile when he watched Zippy pull his wallet from his back pocket and remove a few bills that he folded and slipped into his front pocket, before he put his wallet away.
The kid’s punch to Barney’s throat ended the battle. In less than six minutes, it was all over with. The boy walked over the man sitting in the grass clutching his throat, and staggered to the steps. He bent over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. When he straightened, he scanned the faces of the men on the porch. He looked at Baron and said, “You are a hard man to find, and harder to talk to. My old man told me to come see you if I needed anything, and here I am. I sure hope you don’t have another nutcase like that guy for me to fight before you’ll consent to talk to me for a few minutes.”
Almost everybody went about their business since the show was over. Baron waved Bobby Dee up the steps and offered him a seat. Zippy handed him a soda and slipped the money into the torn t-shirt pocket the boy was wearing. He nodded at him and walked off.
Baron looked at the kid. “Let’s see if I have this right, your father is Darnell DeYoung. And since you’re here and he isn’t, my guess is that something went wrong in Afghanistan. My question is, what happened to your mother?”
Bobby looked at the man he was named after. This big guy made his six foot two father seem short. He grew up listening to stories about his father’s best buddy, and seeing the man for himself, he was pretty sure his dad hadn’t elaborated on their exploits much. “Dad bought it a year and a half ago. He was teamed with a dog named Zero, as in Zero tolerance. Both of them were targeted by the bastards. They were checking for bombs and explosives in a small village, and it was a trap. The letter from his commanding officer said he died a hero.”
“Ten days ago, mom was in a car wreck. She caused the wreck that killed her. After dad died, she kept cursing the Army, and saying that dad loved it more than he loved us. She started drinking, and I think she decided to end it. I just graduated from high school in June, turned eighteen in July, and I guess I shouldn’t have thought about joining the Army like my dad. Now she’s gone, and in my dad’s will, you were to get me if something happened to them. Technically, you don’t get me, but you are the administrator of the will. There’s money, but I don’t know how much, and I can’t touch it until I’m twenty-one. I want to go to the U of A, but again, I can’t touch the money, and I can’t get a grant or loan, because I can’t demonstrate need. It’s a clusterfucked up mess, so here I am.”
*****
Baron finally climbed into bed at three in the morning. There were men lying on bedrolls in his living room, and in the spare bedrooms. Bobby Dee would stay with the Prospects in the basement at the club once the roads were passable. For now, he was sleeping in the corner of the living room with a couch pillow and a spare blanket.
Amy was sleeping on Gunner’s shoulder, so he scooted under the covers to snuggle up against her backside. Hopefully she would feel better in the morning. The cheeks of her ass cradled his softened cock, and although it was beginning to act interested, he pushed the sensations back while drifting to sleep.
Gunner woke up when Amy rolled onto her back. He grabbed a pair of Baron’s jeans that were an inch too long, but they would have to do until he got to his scooter. Hopefully the extra change of clothes hadn’t gotten too wet from the damn rain. He took a leak in the master bathroom and looked at his reflection in the mirror when he scooped a handful of water over his face to help wake him up. His dark beard needed a trim, but that would have to wait. His brown eyes were a gift from his old man, but the girly dimples in his cheeks were from his mother. He wore the beard mainly to hide those dimples after being ragged on by the guys for being so pretty and cute. He rinsed his mouth with a swig of the blue stuff next to the sink and spit the burning shit out in the sink, and stood up. Seeing the left side of his chest that wasn’t decorated with a tattoo yet, made him think about getting a new tat soon. Maybe not yet. He wasn’t sure why he’d left the space empty, there just hadn’t been anything worth documenting on his skin lately.
He almost stepped on Barney as he walked through the dining room. The man was lying on the floor, with his upper torso under the table and his legs were straight out, like he might have falle
n over while asleep.
He found the coffee and brewed a pot. Someone had put the dishes away, and he figured it must have been Amy. Thoughts of her led him to remembering how good it felt to be inside of her pussy, and he had to redirect his thoughts, or go back to the bedroom and make a new memory to think about.
The rain was down to a drizzle now, but the forecast was calling for more thunderstorms. It was going to be a bitch riding the bike today, but they needed to get the prisoners away from Baron’s personal property and take them to the club. He walked out to the carport and saw Zippy was babysitting the shivering wastes of space. If they were dried out and detoxed, there was a slim chance two of the five would live to see their next birthday. The kid under the silver blanket was Bruin’s problem, if he came after his sister again he would be Gunner’s, which meant he would die. For some reason, he’d allowed the evil tempered little witch to make him feel like she belonged to him and Baron, and neither man would allow someone to harm what was theirs.
Leech and Gator pulled onto the apron of the carport with the panel van. They came inside and helped themselves to the fresh coffee, and joined Gunner on the deck. It was cold out, but they wore jackets, Gunner was barefooted and bare chested, as if the cold didn’t bother him at all.
Gator took a seat out of the worst of the wind and contemplated his boots while Leech and Gunner talked. They’d taken John Doe for his last ride, and Wally the Junkman had insisted they enjoy a beer or two before they left. The old man had a broken arm, and wasn’t happy that his transportation was now his daughter. “She’s a naggin’ bitch, but she has stepped up and helped me a lot.”
Tonight was the first time he’d used a backhoe and he still had traces of the white lime powder on his boot heels. They’d poured the shit over Reeker’s body before covering him up. He wondered if the scraps of human waste huddling in the carport would be joining their leader soon. He wouldn’t admit it, but he knew two of them. Oliver had been a nerd in school. He was one of those smart guys that everybody hated because he was the kind of guy that reminded the teachers about homework assignments.
Pete was an ordinary guy in class. He was likeable, but never stood out in any one thing. Last Gator had heard about him, he’d taken on some heavy metal when an IED exploded in Iraq. Maybe he had brain damage. Who knew what men brought back from war with them.
He had not served, he washed out in the medical check. For some reason, he couldn’t hear high-pitched noises. That was the least of his medical problems. The doctor told him that his heart was enlarged, and that was that for his career in the Army. He hadn’t planned on any other future for himself. He wasn’t particularly smart, and he wasn’t born in a family with well heeled parents. His mother worked two jobs just to keep a roof over their heads. The old man was absent since his mother came home from the hospital with his little sister. He’d dropped them off, and never came back.
Leech filled in the blanks for Gunner since he’d been busy taking care of Amy last night. He was envious of the men who got the privlage of watching Barney get his ass handed to him by a punk assed kid. The man would have been likeable if he didn’t run his mouth so much. Maybe the ass whipping would slow him down, but it was doubtful.
“We need to take the trash down to the cooler and figure out what to do with them there. They can take some time to dry out there, and we won’t have to babysit them so close then. Right now, I see five of them, so I hope we have the entire nest, I guess we’ll find out sooner or later.
“Gator, you wanna find Preacher, then you can take the boys to the cellar? Hose ‘em down when you get there, they’ve been pissing themselves and probably one or two of them shit their pants. I can’t stand the smell of puke, and when they start suffering, they will be puking and shitting. You ever see a junkie try to claw his scalp off? They’ll be begging for someone to shoot them by tomorrow. The trick is to not shoot them, no matter how tempted you might be.”
Chapter Twelve
She was enjoying the feel of a man’s mouth on her breast, sucking and teasing the nipple with teeth and an agile tongue. It felt like heaven to have a man’s hands shaping the large mounds of flesh, while the pull of his sucking tingled straight to her womb. This was a wonderful way to be awakened from her dream of the two sexy men.
She knew she was wet, ready for his prick, but he kept teasing her breasts. “Hey, I love what you’re doing there, but I need you to take a detour down south if you happen to feel up to it.” Her fingers were playing with his hair, and her other hand’s fingers were slowly rubbing her clit.
His big hand abandoned one of her breasts, and traveled down to meet with her damp fingers. He pressed her fingers harder over the small muscle, and extended his own to hook inside of her tight vaginal entrance. He pulled with those fingers, and added another finger to the soaked flesh. She felt like pumping her hips, the need to get the friction moving for the orgasm that was waiting for her to do her part. Pleasure was waiting and she wanted it. “Yes, like that, just a little faster, oh please don’t stop.” Her words of encouragement made Baron grin. He wasn’t about to let her get too happy. He planned to fuck her into the mattress, and wanted to feel her tight cunt grab his prick while he spilled his load deep inside of her.
He pulled his fingers from her hole and lifted his mouth from her tit. Her narrow eyed expression made him laugh. “Calm down, Stretch, I’m gonna fuck you. I think you need to learn to be patient.” He took her hand from her clit and pulled the other hand from her breast. “Let me take a minute to look at you, all this smooth skin and curves makes me want to shove my cock deep and stay there for a while.” He pushed one long leg between hers and said, “Spread them, if I have to do it for you, I might add a few swats to this pretty little pussy for your disobedience. I thought we’d established that I like to be in charge.” Her thighs opened wide and he nodded at her. “Good girl, now raise those legs up and grab them with your hands behind your knees, don’t fuck around, my prick’s about to shoot cum all over you, and if that happens, you’re gonna have a reason to say I’m a selfish fucker.”
She had no choice but to watch as he split her open with his thumbs and looked up to see her watching. He said, “Watch this,” it was his thick cock head sliding between his thumbs as it pushed its way inside of her vaginal tunnel. “Fuck this is tight, your pussy is almost chewing at my cock.”
He was right, seconds after he began sliding into her depths, her channel clamped down and released rhythmically as she came. Her head was thrown back, and her jaw was clenched while she rode out her orgasm with very little noise. The smack on her clit made her gasp and open her eyes.
“You don’t fucking keep that shit behind your teeth, I can feel it, I wanna hear it. Now do it again, but do it right this time.” He slammed the last few inches inside of her and she whimpered.
The orgasm had primed her and made her delicate inner flesh sensitive. His cock was stretching over those twitching bundles of nerves and her hips jerked. She cried out when he hit bottom, but shoved her hips up to encourage him even more. “That’s right, let me hear it. Let all the motherfuckers in this place hear my name coming out of your mouth.” She couldn’t hold back any longer. He kept saying possessive domineering shit, but she liked it, more than she’d ever thought she might. Telling her to “Take every fucking inch of it,” and then he bit her on the shoulder, kept her mind on her body. His cock kissed her cervix, and it was enough to shove her over the edge. She felt his prick pushing the milky liquid from his body into the mouth of her womb, as she screamed his name, just like he’d said she would.
*****
She was becoming waterlogged from all of the baths and showers she’d had in the last two days. Her feet had gotten the worst of the injuries, and everytime she stepped down, the thin cuts would split longer and some would bleed. As soon as she was cleaned up, Baron dressed her in another pair of his boxers that he never used, and a black t-shirt declaring freedom is two wheels and an open road. She was stil
l self-conscious about being carried around, after all she was no lightweight. Her attempts to move around on her own got her nowhere but it did get her a quick five smacks on her ass. She conceded with a comment. “All right, if you have to play the caveman, go for it, but don’t whine to me about your aching back later.”
She met Bruin and although he still frightened her, he assured her that David was going to be rehabbed. “I’ll be taking him with me, and he’s going to learn to live without that shit poisoning what few brain cells he has left.” He didn’t think she needed to know that David was in for a couple of weeks of hell. “You are prettier than your mother ever was, taller too. I always thought you were a cute kid.”
What could she say besides thank you. She was relieved that her brother would be taken in hand and with someone who seemed to care about his welfare. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
Gunner refused to allow her to tell her brother goodbye. “Wait until he is cleaned up. The next time you see him, he will be a whole new person. I have a feeling that his old man will work him into a man you could probably be proud of. Right now, all you will remember is a bag of bones with a fat lip. Give him time, leaving him a scrap of dignity won’t hurt you, and it might help him.”
Bruin agreed whole-heartedly. “A man has demons, you need to let him wrestle with his for a while. I’ll let you know when he’s ready to see you again. He owes you, but he has to learn about himself before he takes on a woman’s issues.” He nodded at her and the rest of the people in the room and left the house. He was wearing a rain poncho, and carried a plastic trash bag in his hand for David’s use to keep the rain off some. The cold wet ride would do the boy good. He’d be one miserable asshole by the time they stopped tonight.
