“Twist, you know it was, man. At this point, you know her car as well as I do.”
Over the past few months, Twist has taken on being London’s guard dog. I don’t even have to do anything to protect her. He fucks up anyone who even looks at her wrong when she’s around. He practically follows her around like a lost puppy.
“Yeah, thought so. She doing okay?”
I roll my eyes and shrug. Nosey bastard.
“Ugh, fuck, man, I don’t know. She’s headed to Tennessee to check on her friend. She was in a rush so she couldn’t stay.”
He gets quiet and glances around the room. “She ain’t comin’ back, huh?”
He may be a crazy fucker, but he’s always been very perceptive. He’s been a hell of an ally to have during some of our deals, that’s for sure. He has like a spidey sense, but for bikers or some shit.
“I really don’t know, but I don’t think so,” I admit quietly and glance down.
My brothers know how close London and I are. I catch shit for it all the time, but they all like her a lot.
Twist pats me on the back. “Give it some time, man; shit will work out, always does.”
Then he walks off. It’s the craziest fuckin’ day ever. Since when the fuck does Twist spew advice? And my girl just took off to another state. Fuck this bullshit, I’m getting tore up.
****
Two and a half months ago…
“Look, Cain, it’s time to pull your head out of your ass and quit with the getting shitfaced every night. She’s fucking gone, man. She hasn’t called or texted you; she hasn’t come back. It’s been two weeks now. It’s time to move the fuck on, brother. You’re just hurting yourself. You have to get squared away for the fight in a few days.”
Ares, the voice of reason. I snort at my sarcasm.
“I know, Ares, I know. You got anything you need some help with? It might just help take my mind off things.”
“Yeah, Cain, you know I’m always down for you to ride with me. I’ll even let you sit bitch if ya’ wanna’.” He flashes that cocky grin my way, and I roll my eyes at him.
“Ha, fucknut. I’ll ride out with you.”
“All right, cool. Give me a couple hours to settle up with Prez. And I’ll come get ya.” I give him a nod and make my way to my room.
I put on some clothes that I won’t mind getting bloody, because that’s how these things usually turn out.
Where’s my powder? I glance around until I find it and grab my piece of cut-up straw. I dice few small lines with the blade of my pocket knife. After it’s cut and lined, I lick my knife off then snort up my coke through the straw. Not trying to get shitfaced hyped, just a little pick-me-up.
Ah fuck, Capone got some good shit this time. A lot of the time when Capone does his gun deals, the receiver will try to tempt Capone with some kind of drug. Capone doesn’t do any drugs, but he always brings samples back for the brothers. I think this shit might be from some Columbians.
I make my way back out to the main room and chill on a couch until Ares is ready to ride. I start to feel a little better as the coke runs through my blood and gives me some energy.
“Yo, brother, you ready to split?” Ares’ loud voice booms out, and I jump.
“Yeah, man, I’m straight.” I stand up and follow Ares.
It’s his show so I let him lead the way. Always a good idea to be behind the club enforcer anyhow; it would take a bus to knock the big fucker down. We start walking toward my Challenger.
“What’s up, we need the car?” I ask and nod at her.
“Yeah, you mind? I don’t want the slick fuck to know it’s us, and we might need the trunk for a body.”
“Hell yeah, it’s been a while since I drove her.”
“Don’t start talking to your vehicle and shit.”
“Hey, don’t be jealous because these beauties purr for me.” I give him a cocky grin, and he just rolls his eyes at me.
Ares and I have always had a comfortable banter between each other. I think it’s because neither of us take shit from people.
I start Loretta up and she rumbles loudly. She’s a glossy black with black-tinted windows. I love Texas and their dark tint laws. Nobody can see in my car, and that’s exactly how I like it.
Inside is dark gray leather interior with black stitching. Loretta is a 2014 Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat. She’s a mean bitch with 707 horsepower under her hood.
I live at the clubhouse, so all my money from fighting goes into my toys. I have two custom bikes and my car. I’m saving half of it in case I ever want to buy a little house or something.
“Where we headed?” I flick my gaze toward Ares. He looks bigger and more imposing in the confined area of the car. He pushes his seat as far back as it will go and leans it back some.
“Drive toward College Station. There’s a turnoff right before you get to town, and that greasy little spic should be there.” Ares’ ex-ol’ lady left him for a Mexican, so he’s grown hatred toward them all.
I see him eyeing one of the strippers when she comes into the clubhouse to party sometimes. I don’t think he realizes she’s Mexican, so it’s kind of ironic. I’m going to laugh my ass off when he figures it out, though.
“Right.” I lean back and give her some gas, then turn up some Five Finger Death Punch – “House of the Rising Sun.”
It doesn’t take us long to reach our destination; after all, I was hauling ass the whole way. Thank fuck for my radar detector. It’s saved me a few times. I do wonder, though, if the five-oh would have a hard time catching me in Loretta; it almost makes me want to try it. Almost, that is, until I think about the jail time I’d do with my prior assault charges. Fuck that.
I follow Ares to the back entrance of a fucking dump of a house. It looks like half of the house would blow away if a good wind blew through. Ares kicks the door in straight away and charges inside.
Okay, I guess we are getting straight to it. Good, no pussy footing around. I charge in after him with my Glock out; you never know when a fucker will pull his piece on you.
The greasy little fucker takes off running. Ares snatches him around the neck straight up off the ground and throws him on the floor. He lands, sprawled out on his back.
I walk quickly over and put my boot in the middle of his chest and train my Glock on his head. I’d put a bullet in his head in a heartbeat.
I don’t like fuckin’ around when it comes to this shit. Most of these fools are tweaking on something, so you never know what they may try to pull.
“Hey, you fuckin’ spic, where the fuck you get the guns you selling to everybody?” Ares booms out.
Ah, this is about selling on our territory. I bet Prez flipped the fuck out when he heard someone else was supplying guns in the area. He likes to be the only provider around here and quickly squashes anyone who may be competition.
“Look, Vato, I promise I don’t know what the fuck you’re talk-talking about.”
Ares nods at me, and I give the idiot a swift kick in the ribs. God, that felt good. Hopefully, he holds out for a while so I can fuck him up. I have to get some of this anger out. Ever since London fucking took off, I’ve felt ready to explode. No, forget about that bitch.
I grin evilly down at the little roach, and his eyes bug out. “That’s too bad, because my brother here will just have to keep trying until I hear what I want to hear. You stupid fucks haven’t learned after all this time not to fuck with the Oath Keepers MC? When will you learn that we’re quick to come collect when someone crosses us? We don’t play games.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay. I don’t know what you want me to say. I really don’t, ese.” He looks panicked, like he might piss his pants, and I outright laugh. I think my laughing scares him more because I see him starting to sweat.
I put my gun back into my side holster and unsnap my knife. It’s about eight inches long and one of my favorite methods of information extraction. I pull my blade out and admire it in front of my body. The Mexican h
as a clear view of it, and I grin as I turn it over a few times in my hands.
His eyes widen further when he sees me move. I don’t give him a chance to think, I just drive it straight down into his thigh. I miss his artery but twist my blade inside. Yeah, that’s going to cause some damage. If Twist were here he would be nodding his approval and telling me to keep twisting the knife.
“Ah. Chupame la verga pinche panocha!” he wails and glares at me.
“Oh? Cain, I think our boy here wants you to suck his dick, and he also says that you’re a fucking pussy.”
“That right?” I glower at the little Mexican pissant, and he’s sweating like crazy, shaking his head. I guess he didn’t think we’d know any Spanish.
I smile big. “Let’s see what we can do with what you have in your pants, eh? I’m sure it’ll come off easily with my blade, and then we’ll see who the real pussy is.”
“No, please! Fucking gringos, okay-okay-okay. I’ll tell you what I know, okay? I didn’t get the guns. My homeboy bought them off some Russian. I think he’s like some Big Boss of something. He goes by the name of Gizya. Real mean fuckers, those Russians. We already sold everything we got, I fucking swear, homie.”
Ares nods at me.
Bingo, we got everything we needed.
I let my foot up off the little Mexican thug and put my knife away. He sighs in relief and slowly starts to sit up from the floor. “Oh, thank God,” he sighs and starts to relax; he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.
There’s a loud noise as I sink a bullet in his head and shit splatters all over the nasty floor around him. His body flies back to the ground with the force of the shot. There are pieces of slimy-looking brain matter a few feet away from his body.
I nod back at Ares and put my Glock away. Done.
“Get the plastic out of the trunk, and we’ll drop him at the ranch on the way home. I’m sure the pigs will like a snack.”
“On it.”
I head out to the trunk and get the duct tape and the thick plastic roll that’s meant for painting. At least if we get pulled over we can use painting as an excuse, although we probably look more like serial killers. I’d be pissed if I got my car dirty, so the plastic is a must.
****
After we dump the body with the pigs I turn up ZZ Top’s “La Grange” and head back to the clubhouse.
“Cain!” Prez yells from his office, and I glance up from the beer I’m nursing at the bar.
He’s standing at the doorway and waves me over. Hmm, wonder what this is about. I hope he’s not pissed we fed the pigs without telling him first. Even when I was growing up, I was always bad about doing what I wanted before checking in with anyone.
“Yeah, Prez, what’s up?” I ask when I enter his office.
It’s pretty small. Enough room for a small blue couch, his old wood desk, and a big safe. He has a black, banged-up file cabinet shoved into the little closet area. The concrete floors are all stained throughout the whole compound. Easy clean up, and it’s more guy approved.
“Hey, brother. Ares filled me in on what you were able to find out from the spic. I talked to him already about it. I want you to ride up with him to Tennessee after your next fight is over. Get this shit settled with the Russians. I’m going to attempt to get in touch with this Gizya guy and see if we can set something up. If he wants to sell guns, I’d rather see if we can reach a deal instead of all these little fucks coming in on Oath Keepers’ territory. You feel me?”
I’m actually surprised this wasn’t discussed in church, but I guess it couldn’t wait until Wednesday.
“Of course, it’s no problem. I never mind helping Ares out. What do you need me to do up there?”
“I just need you to back Ares up if he needs it. Just like usual. He knows what I expect of him. I’m going to send Twist, Capone, and 2 Piece with you guys, too. That way if we have any issues, I know you all can fuck some shit up if needed. Capone will know if the weapons are shit or not and can let Ares know if any deals are a no-go.”
“'Okay, that sounds good. Where are we headed anyway?”
“Knoxville, Tennessee, I believe. If it changes, I’ll update you when I hear about it. I need to stay here and take care of the other shit we got going on. You know, I hate those long trips anyhow.”
It’s like a knife to the stomach when he says Tennessee. I hold my breath for a few seconds, hoping the feeling will go away. I can’t believe I’m still thinking about London.
Man, I need to get some pussy and forget about her. Two weeks and I’m still choking up, feeling like a piece of me is missing.
“Okay, anything else?”
“No, brother. You doin’ okay, though? I know your chick took off, and you’ve looked like shit lately.”
Great, has everyone noticed? He always gets right down to the point, no sugar coating that shit.
“I’m good, getting my shit squared now to be ready for the fight. I was just 'bout to go check out some pussy after this.”
He smirks and claps me on my back as we walk toward the doorway of his office. “Good. Let me know if you need anything.”
I nod and make my way out of his office.
The President of the Oath Keepers MC is a broody fucker at times. I’ve seen him help his brothers when they need it but also gut a fucker and strip his patches off when they’ve crossed him. I’d guess he’s probably around forty, maybe a little older. I think he has a son and daughter from an old marriage, but they’re never around. I heard from some of the brothers that Prez wanted his son to hang around the club with him, but I guess he won’t. At least that’s what the brothers gossiping like chicks are saying.
He hardly drinks and is generally quiet. If he’s talking a lot, you’re most likely not going to enjoy what he has to say.
London thinks he’s good looking for being older than us. He’s in really good shape, not built up, but I’d bet there isn’t any fat on his body either. I know he’s got a mean right hook; I took one to the kidneys in the beginning, and he fucked me up. I was pissing blood for a week straight.
He’s got long, blond hair and is covered in tattoos. I wouldn’t even be surprised if his dick is tattooed.
I go into the bar and look around. None of these club sluts holds a candle to London’s fine ass, but pussy’s pussy. I have to get off this bitch already. I look at the slut with long, brown hair and wave two fingers in a come-here motion.
Her irises light up as if she just hit gold, and I roll my eyes. She’s crazy to think I could get sprung on a club slut. Especially after my chick just took off. I’m not looking to lay claim on any more pussy, just want my dick sucked.
“Hey, Cain, can I do something for you?” She snuggles up to my side as she rubs her hand on my stomach.
“Yep, get on your knees and suck my cock.” I push her shoulders down until her knees hit the floor.
She stares up at me and unbuttons my jeans. My cock springs out, and she goes straight to work, sucking me as far as she can into her mouth. I grab her hair as she bobs up and down on my cock.
I haul her up and she grins at me, turned on. I lean her front against the bar and push her head flat on the bar top. I grab a rubber out of my pocket and wrap my shit up.
I hike her skirt up around her ass, grab her hips, and sink in hard. She moans loudly, trying to draw any attention she can from the few brothers sitting in the corner of the bar. I pound in and out for a few minutes.
Fuck, why is it taking me so long to come? Usually it’s even more of a turn-on when I know I have a small audience, but it’s not doing anything for me. I start to imagine long, silky, straight, black hair down to the middle of her back.
I palm the slut’s ass cheeks and picture them fuller like London’s and that does it. Finally, I explode inside the condom. I feel like I just ran a marathon with how hard I was pumping in and out.
I reach around to play with her clit for a few seconds, and she gets off. She screams and moans my name loudly. I’m not
a total dick; I always make sure the chick I fuck gets off, too.
I pull the condom off and tie it closed. Then I tuck my cock back into my boxer briefs and pants. She doesn’t hold a candle to London—no one does—and it grates on me like no other.
“That was good, Cain. Want to take this little party to your room?” She’s flushed, with a satisfied smile.
The bitch licks her lips like it’s going to turn me on further. She’s just a random fuck; I’m not trying to spend any extra time or give her a replay. There’s only one chick I want to fuck multiple times, and she’s about fifteen hours away right now.
There’s only one chick I think of constantly and would do anything for. She’s not her. My heart’s broken; no amount of pussy will fill the empty hole that’s taken over.
“Nope, I’m straight, thanks.” I smack her ass and walk to my room.
I get straight into the shower and wash off. God, I miss London. I don’t think I’ll ever stop either. I need to call her when I get to Tennessee and make sure she’s doing okay. It may let my head and heart finally chill the fuck out. Make sure she doesn’t need anything, and I’m sure Twist will want a chance to see her, too.
One and a half weeks ago…
“Cain, brother, you’re going to fuck your back up, taking that new bike all the way to Tennessee,” 2 Piece bitches as he loads his saddlebags on his bike.
“Nah, brother. I’ve gotten so used to driving this baby; I don’t want to leave her.”
My other bike’s a great bike, too, but I love this Harley Iron 883. This bike has so much more power and fewer mechanical issues than my old blue Harley.
“Whatever, man, it’s your bones all for that beauty. When you get older, you’ll learn.”
“Yeah, yeah, old man. Get on your old man bike and let’s roll,” I rib him a little since he’s giving me shit.
“Fuck you. I’m only like five years older than your ass, and I’m still better looking.” He chuckles, and I laugh.
He does have pussy flocking to him left and right, so maybe he is better looking. I just mess with a club slut occasionally. I have to think of London to get off or else it takes me forever or my dick goes limp. Never thought in a million years I’d be a limp dick when I couldn’t get a certain cunt.
Oath Keepers MC: The Collection Page 4
