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Ash: Devil's Crucifix MC

Page 37

by Carmen Faye


  "Sure," she said with a shrug, thinking he was gay.

  The rest of the day they spent buying linens, towels, pillows, toilet paper, cleaning supplies and many other items any house requires.

  They made the bed, had sex on the bed, then remade it. They took a long shower together and then sun-bathed themselves dry on the porch.

  The owner called them as they were leaving, "Hi, I wanted to say thank you. My daughter is better. She hasn't got herself out there yet, but she's much less manic and depressed."

  "I'm glad it worked out," she told him.

  "How's the home coming along," he asked.

  "Wonderful. And that was a well-chosen word. It feels like a home. We will be happy here," she told him.

  "That's good. I'm happy that someone like you bought the place. That was a special place for me and my wife. Many good years there. Well, I won't keep you. Have a great day."

  "Thanks," she said and broke the connection.

  She looked at Sydney, "It's amazing what some people will do to their children with the words 'I love you' in their mouths."

  "You would know better than most," Sydney told her and gave her a hug. "Let's get ready for our guests."

  They called Neil and told him about the diner tonight. He was amiable, and said he was working on some mixes and just to come get him from the bedroom when their guests arrived.

  * * *

  Jeff and Samantha arrived promptly at seven, and brought with them three wrapped frames.,

  "I couldn't wait to see four of the shots, so I developed them today. This one was definitely a golden moment. I knew it when I clicked the shutter that I captured exactly what I was looking for."

  He handed the first frame to her and she and Sydney peeled off the brown wrapping paper.

  The image was of her, standing next to an iron sculptor, her head back, her hair falling down her arched back, and her right leg lifted like she did sometimes when she rubbed her thigh against Neil as he kissed her.

  "Holy shit," breathed Sydney. "That is fucking gorgeous." Then she yelled, "Neil! Come see this!"

  Neil came out of the back room wearing blue jeans, no shoes, and a white tank-top that contrasted with his dark tanned skin, and exhibited all of his shoulder muscles.

  He looked at the framed photo and said, "That, is art." Then he looked at Jeff, "You do this?"

  "Yes," Jeff said with a small smile and a slight bow of his head.

  "If I could mix, like you shoot, I'd be a happy man," he admitted.

  "Thank you Neil," Jeff said. "You mix?"

  Sydney went to the stereo, "He's being modest. He does mix like you shoot." Then she turned on the song that has been playing on the radio.

  "I know that one," Samantha said, with a bit of surprise in her voice. "I love that song."

  "That's Neil on the guitar," Sydney said with obvious pride in her voice.

  "Very impressive. Incredibly passionate. I believe Sydney is right. You should be a happy man," Jeff told him.

  Neil wrapped his arm around Sydney, and laughed a little, "Well, actually I am." Then motioning to the other frames, "So, what are those?"

  "Oh, these are for the girls you mentioned. The head shots you asked for," Jeff explained and handed them over.

  They unwrapped them and Shayla gasped, "Oh god, these are so perfect. Thank you!"

  They ate and Shayla brought up the trip to Italy next July. "We'll be out of school for the summer," she pointed out.

  "I don't have a problem with it, but I can't commit to going with you. If this tour does well, there will be others, and summer is the biggest market, with festivals and what-not," he explained.

  "Probably true," Sydney said, which surprised Shayla. "And this tour is going to do well. I know it is. You'll get signed by a major label."

  "That would be nice, but I think we're still too local for that."

  "Nirvana was about as local as you could get, and look what happened to them," Samantha offered.

  "You mean other than the suicide, right?" Neil asked in a dry voice.

  Sydney laughed, "You're so fucked up sometimes!" And then to Samantha who was still looking a little shocked, "He's just teasing you. Don't take it as any more than that."

  Samantha gave her a smile, but her eyes still looked a little worried. Jeff appeared to be amused.

  Near the end of the meal, Jeff asked Neil if he would mind coming down to his studio next Monday with the girls and doing a few shots.

  "Can you do something like you did for them for my sisters?" Neil asked.

  "Oh, certainly. Not a problem at all. And I would be willing to pay each of you five hundred for the shoot as well."

  Neil thought about that, "Yeah, alright. Do I have to get naked too?"

  "Um, is that a problem? We could stick with the blue jeans, with boots and no shirt I suppose," Jeff said, sounding a little disappointed.

  "Let's start like that, and then we'll try some nude shots," Neil offered.

  "Perfect," Jeff said quickly. "Absolutely. You three have an amazing energy between you. If I could capture it's shadow I'll be happy."

  Chapter 17

  After Sunday dinner with Neil's family, Shayla went out to their car and brought in the framed photos of her and Sydney, and gave one to each of the girls. The squeals of delight were close to deafening.

  "When you said you were going to have pictures done," Amanda said, "I never thought they were be like this. Where did you go?"

  She told her about Jeff and that he was pretty famous.

  "I know him, well, I know about him. I've seen his stuff in a couple of galleries." She turned to the girls, "Remember that gallery we went to down on Coconut Grove, the photos? That's the same man.

  Then both made noises of understanding and remembrance and then started asking Neil to hang the frames on their wall.

  "When can we have one of you Neil?" Sandy ask as they headed for the garage to get a hammer and nails.

  "Next week I think. He's going to shoot me with them tomorrow. I asked him for a couple for you two as well."

  "Sweet!" Sandy said, pumping her fist in the air.

  Back at their house she was laying across their laps watching a movie when Sandy texted her: thank you, nite!

  She texted back: love you pixie

  She set her phone back on the coffee table and relaxed into the stimulations of her lover's hands.

  Neil was looking above the TV, at the photo they hung there, "In my studio, at the new place, don't hang one of those in there."

  "Why not Neil," she asked, a little hurt.

  "Because all I'll do is sit and stare at it all day, and never get anything done. Hell, I can barely keep my attention on the movie as it is."

  She squeezed his arm, "Thank you Neil, that's sweet."

  "Sweet hell," he told her. "I'm serious."

  About half-way through the movie, just as her body was starting to simmer, Neil's phone rang. He looked at the screen and then answered with, "Hey Selene." Then he eased out from under her and walked toward the kitchen saying, "Alright, I'm not running drugs any more, that was easy."

  "Selene?" Sydney mouthed to her.

  She shrugged and put the movie on pause, waiting for him to come back. Sydney continued working her breasts with exhilarating hands. She was down to her G-string again, and she could tell that Sydney was already turned on enough to fuck her silly.

  He sounded a little concerned though they couldn't get a sense of what was being said on the other side of the conversation. Finally he came back and got her ass back on his lap and returned to rubbing and massaging her thighs.

  "That was Selene," he told them.

  "Old girlfriend?" Sydney ask, obvious jealousy in her voice.

  "Old affair," he corrected. "Also a detective with the Narcs for Miami PD."

  "Which one was calling you?" Sydney persisted.

  "Both. The detective told me that the Knights have been popping up on the radar too often to ignore. They're u
nder surveillance now, and the club will probably be hit Tuesday or Wednesday with a raid."

  "What did the lover have to say," Sydney asked.

  "Sydney," Shayla said with exasperation, "give it a rest would you. He wasn't a virgin when we found him and neither were we."

  "Yeah, I know that," Sydney said. "No one's as good as he is without some serious attentive practice — which is what bothers me. Some of those worked-on women undoubtedly want him back."

  "Arrg!" Shayla growled, and got off their laps and headed for the kitchen to get a beer. "You were saying Neil? You know, the important bit?"

  "That's it really," he told her.

  "Well if they're being watched," she said, as she came back into the living room and sat on the edge of the coffee table facing them, "I don't want them coming here. Are you going to warn them?"

  "He's been warned, several times by better minds. He says he has it controlled," he said, and took a sip of his own beer.

  "Yeah, but what about your friends like West and Brian?"

  He turned thoughtful and then nodded, "You're right. Both of them could get caught right in the middle of this. I better call them now."

  "Well, until after the raid at least, I don't want any of them here. None of them. So, I'm calling Anton and canceling our order," she said and reached for her phone.

  "They aren't going to be following every rider that comes out of there," Neil pointed out.

  "Right, just the ones walking out with cases in their hands, right?" she asked as she dialed the phone in speaker mode.

  "Well, you might have something there," he agreed.

  "Anton? It's Shayla."

  "What now," Anton growled.

  "Cancel our order. I just got a call from inside Vice, and you are under surveillance and going to be hit Tuesday. I don't want any Lord for any reason on my doorstep."

  "Wait a minute here—"

  "This is not a discussion Anton. No delivery. You're too hot. Period. Good-bye."

  She was about to say something when her phone rang. She looked at the screen and saw that it was Anton calling back.

  "What!" she yelled at him.

  "I've put up with a lot of shit from you two recently —"

  "You?! You set us up to be robbed, and then set Richie up to be killed, and YOU have put up with shit? Fuck you Anton! Fuck you! And don't call here again! I told you, you're under surveillance! Get it!? Fuck off!"

  She disconnected and almost instantly the phone rang again. She looked at the screen, saw it was Anton and sent it to voicemail.

  "How much do we have in stash?" she asked Sydney.

  "About a kilo, why?"

  "We need to call our stables. Tell them that we can give them half their normal order, but that our supplier's is too hot to deal with right now. They should be told as soon as possible.

  Sydney nodded, "Good thinking. Let's get started."

  "Sorry Neil, I think movie-time is over," she told him.

  "I'll catch up with you two in a bit. I have calls to make myself," he agreed.

  * * *

  After the photo-shoot and a check for their first honest pay in over two years in their pockets, Shayla rode in the passenger seat while Sydney drove. Neil took his trike down because he wanted to drop in on Richie afterward.

  "We should do some shopping, like for food I mean," she told Sydney.

  "We are getting low on things," she agreed.

  They stopped at the bank, proudly deposited their checks, and then went to the grocery store.

  Standing in line with an overstuffed cart, with a lot of meat for their animal-sex husband.

  "He looked so fucking sexy," she breathed to Sydney.

  "I know," Sydney whispered back. "I nearly came looking at him."

  "I spend far too little time just admiring his ass," she giggled.

  "Did you see Samantha? Poor girl has it bad for him now," Sydney smiled.

  "What, no jealousy?" she chided.

  "No, she's not his type. But obviously this Selene bitch is, or at least was," Sydney told her.

  "The man has two doting wives. He's has no reason to fool around," she told Sydney.

  "Some men could have a hundred and still fool around," Sydney told her.

  "Are any of those men anything like Neil?" she asked.

  "No, you have a point there."

  When they pulled into their parking lot they saw the bikes, and then the two Knights standing on each side of their door upstairs.

  "Shit," Shayla spat.

  "What do you want to do? We could just call the cops." Sydney asked.

  "No one in the club would ever speak to us again and we would lose half of our stables," she pointed out. "Just get the groceries we can carry up, and ignore them. The safe is locked up, right?"

  "Yeah, remember, you checked it last night after bagging," Sydney reminded her.

  "Alright, let's just play it cool, and see what's waiting inside."

  They walked up the stairs with groceries in their arms and even though she expected it, it still set a chill of alarm down her spine when one of them reached over and opened up the door for her.

  They went past the men without a greeting, and got none from them either. She didn't know either one of them. Inside were two other men, and from the description Neil had given her, she was sure one of them was Anton. He did look like a six foot Joe Pesci.

  She led Sydney right past the men like they weren't there and went into the kitchen, setting the bags on the floor.

  "That's a lot of red meat," Anton said. "You got a tiger in here or something?"

  She ignored the comment, got a beer out for her and Sydney and walked back to the living-room. Sydney passed her and went to sit on the far end of the couch. Shayla went straight up to Anton.

  "Now that Vice, the DEA and everybody else knows we exist and where we live, what the fuck do you want Anton?" she kept her voice low and cool, just hovering above threatening.

  She saw the hand coming. You didn't grow up in the house she grew up in and not learn the body language preceding a blow. It was faster than she expected though and his backhand blow caught her across the right side of her face, sending her tumbling to the floor into a curled ball.

  Sydney suddenly had an aluminum baseball bat in her hand as she leapt over the coffee table bringing it cracking down on Anton’s left arm near the wrist. The bat actually rung with the blow. Then, instead of going high at the second man, who was even larger than Neil across the chest and in the arms, she went low with a spinning swing and caught him just below the knee, then she spun the other way going for a head shot.

  The large man bent reflexively because of the blow to his shin, but caught the fat of the bat in his palm when it came for his head. Then as quick as a snake he yanked it back, pulling Sydney into him, and hit her hard in the face with his left hand. Sydney rag-dolled onto the floor in front of her, then didn't move. Shayla scooted forward to check her wife. She was out, but breathing.

  She glared up at Anton who was gingerly holding the hand Sydney smashed, and said in an icy voice, "I don't know what you expected to achieve coming here to slap us around, but you failed. I'll never, ever deal for you again. Never. I won't even sell fucking girl-scout cookies for you. We're done. You ended it the moment you hit me."

  "Fucking cunts!" Anton yelled, holding his hand in obvious pain. "You fucking broke my hand! Where the fuck is my machete?"

  She heard Neil's bike pull into the parking lot.

  "You better find it fast Anton, because Hell just pulled into the driveway, and he's not going to like this at all."

  "You mean Neil? You stupid cunt. Neil is a Lord. He'll do what the fuck I tell him to do. And besides, there's two men out there who will stop him anyway."

  From outside came muffled commands from those two men, as the silhouette of Neil strode past the closed curtains. A brief scuffle of boots on the walk, then one of them slammed into the wall, shaking the apartment. A man shaped shadow flew by w
indow and Shayla heard him tumble down the concrete stairs. A second later the other went tumbling after him.

  The door opened, and there was Neil, with a gun in his hand.

  "Get out of here Neil, this is club business," Anton told him.

 

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