Brutal

by K. S. Adkins

  “So you think this is about getting the drug, then?” asks the Captain.

  “Yes and no,” she explains. “I think the drug is the motivator. It doesn’t matter who you inject, Captain, that person is totally helpless for at least two hours. This is strong stuff. Macy and I have adjusted the doses so no one would suffer long term effects, but the girl I found was seriously overdosed. The bigger picture is using it to subdue the girls for shipping, I think. But the amount used on her would have incapacitated six women, so the asshole doing the dosing is an amateur, which leads me to believe these girls may not be alive.”

  “How did they get it?” I ask.

  “That, I’m not sure of yet,” she says. “What I am sure of, is that this person doesn’t like me. Since my arrest, the situation has escalated, and so has the feeling of being followed. Whoever is behind this has known about me for some time, and knows about my relationship to you Captain, I also think he knows who Rogan is. I believe this person doesn’t like women. Especially a woman like me. He likes submissive women, not someone like me, who pretty much does whatever she wants. What do you think?”

  “I think you should have finished school and become a detective like you intended,” says the Captain.

  “You wanted to be a detective?” I ask.

  “At one time yeah.”

  “You’d kick ass”

  “Just like her father,” says the Captain.

  “Thanks,” she says. “This person knows me, I’m sure of it. So I need to draw him out.”

  “That’s dangerous, baby girl.”

  “That’s suicide,” I growl.

  “It’s necessary,” she says, not fazed. “If this person has access to the drug, then I think he’ll use it to grab me. The good news is, Macy designed another drug to counteract it. I have a bit of it here, carry it with me just in case I ever needed it, or if the perp went into cardiac arrest or something. Point is, he’s going to grab me eventually. He won’t approach me without it. He’s afraid of me, I think. We can’t afford for him not to.”

  “Have you given any more thought to my offer?” asks the Captain.

  “I’m still kicking it around,” she says. “My plate's been kind of full, Cap. Right now? I just don’t know.”

  “Fair enough,” he says. “Listen, you watch your back, and both of you keep me posted. I want to hear from you both tomorrow.”

  I disconnect with the Captain, and Venessa calls Macy while I check the database for any new missing persons. I don’t expect to find anything, because the girls weren’t likely to be missed. Dammit, I need something here, but I’m coming up with jack shit. I get a text from Rafe, letting me know he’s hungry. Like that’s my problem? Venessa comes back into the kitchen, and she’s smirking.

  “Whatcha doing?” she asks, acting innocent.

  “Shit.”

  “Hungry?” she asks me, sitting on my lap.

  “I could eat.”

  “Let’s meet Rafe for lunch over at Batch Brewing Company,” she says. “I know a guy there.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “We go way back,” she says. “I knew him from school, he’s good people, and I need to shake up my routine a bit.”

  “I’ll get a hold of Rafe.”

  “Can I drive your truck?”

  “No.”

  “Fine,” she says, pouting. “We can take my bike, then, and you can ride bitch.”

  “You have a bike?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “No.”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course,” I say. “You can ride bitch on mine.”

  “You take all the fun out of you being my bitch.”

  “I’m already your bitch,” I say. “And if you tell Rafe I said that, I’ll have to spank you.”

  “Deal,” she says. “I’ll follow you to your place, yeah?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “What?” Playing innocent again “I’m getting ready.”

  “You preparing for war or something?” I ask watching her strap on her 9mm, tazer, knife and tactical pen. “You don’t have a badge, Angel, you ain’t getting in a bar with all that gear.”

  “I’m not worried about it. I’m starving! Ready?”

  “Woman,” I say. “Try to keep up.”

  We make it to my place in one piece, although watching my woman ride was enough to age me another twenty years. She even rides with purpose. She’s fucking unbelievable. Her bike is a classic, which we’ll need to talk about. It’s nearly impossible to get your hands on a Buell RR1000. We’ve got ten minutes before meeting Rafe. I open my garage while she dismounts, and she practically runs into my garage to see my bike.

  “Holy shit!” she says, touching my bike with affection. “She’s beautiful!”

  “How do you know it’s a she?”

  “Men are never built like this.”

  I laugh. “True.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “I never named her.”

  “We need to think of something,” she declares.

  “It’s just a Harley. That,” I say, pointing, “is a fucking classic bike, however, and I want to know how you got it.”

  “It was my dad's,” she murmurs. “He taught me to ride it when I was fifteen. It’s the only thing I kept.”

  “Smart,” I say. “What did you name her?”

  “I didn’t.” She points to the fender. “My dad called her his ‘lady’ as a joke, saying it’s the only other woman my mom approved of, so I never changed it.”

  “I would have liked your dad.”

  “Naw, you would have loved him,” she says, hugging me.

  “Rafe’s going to flip when he sees her, you know that, right?”

  “I’ll only rub his nose in it a little bit,” she giggles. “Let’s go. I’ll follow you.”

  “You’ll ride next to me,” I say, kissing her hard.

  We ride side by side, pushing each other, and our bikes. I’ll never admit it, but her bike would blow mine away, and I could tell she was taking it easy on me. We get there in record time despite the brick on Michigan Avenue, and Rafe is in the lot, smiling like a fool.

  If he wasn’t my partner, and not into Macy, the way he looks at her would force me to gut him.

  Riding next to Rogan was orgasmic. There’s not any other way to explain it. Seeing him handle that bike was seriously hot. Where mine is smaller and built for speed, his is big and built for stamina, kinda like the man himself. I’m so fucking lucky. Rafe is grinning like an idiot, and I can see him jonesing to touch my bike. As much as I’ve come to respect him, I’m not sure we’re that close yet.

  I’m more into watching him get off his bike and stomp over to me. Yes, he stomps. He isn’t silent about much of anything, far as I can tell. He’s big and solid, to Rafe’s leaner build, although to say Rafe is a slouch would be bullshit. He is built from head to toe, just not built solid like a mack truck, like Rogan.

  “You surprise me, yet again,” Rafe says smiling at me.

  “I like keeping you on your toes.”

  “That’s a serious piece of machinery,” he says. “That’s a bad ass track bike woman.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “She’s a lot of fun on the track.”

  “You raced her?”

  “I used to,” I say. “In high school, I raced on weekends, out at Milan.”

  “Were you good?”

  “I was okay.”

  “With the way you ride, you were more than okay, I fucking guarantee it,” says Rogan. “Let’s head in.”

  Looking behind me to find Rafe, I decided to play with Rogan a bit. You know, to keep him on his toes.

  “Hey, Rafe.”

  “Yeah?” he says. “Sup?”

  “I asked Rogue if he wanted to ride bitch earlier, and you know what he said?” I ask.

  Laughing, he says, “No, but I’m dying to find out.”

  “He said ‘I’m already your bitch’. What do you think th
at means?”

  “It means he’s a pussy,” he says. “But that ain’t nothin’ new.”

  “Hmm,” I say, pretending to think. “I think you need to be someone’s bitch, whaddya think?”

  “I think we need to change the subject,” he says, smiling. “Besides, I’m man enough to ride bitch.”

  I can’t help but laugh, and Rogan looks deep in thought. Once seated, I ask him what’s on his mind.

  “You opened that pretty mouth of yours and ratted me out,” he says, whispering in my ear. “Know what that means?”

  “I might have forgotten.”

  “I owe you a spanking.”

  “Do you always keep your word?”

  “Always.”

  “I like a man that keeps his word.”

  “You called me Rogue.”

  “Would you rather I didn’t?”

  “I fucking loved it.”

  “I fucking love you,” I say whispering into his ear.

  “Venessa?” I hear. “Or is it Kharma now?” And I turn to see my one of my oldest friends.

  “Hey Dubz,” I say, smiling. “Or is it just Jason now?”

  “Call me whatever you want,” he says, looking at my dates. “Introduce me.”

  “The gentleman to your left is Rafe,” I say. “This is Rogan.”

  “Her boyfriend,” says Rogan grunting.

  “Nice to meet you both,” he says, not caring about the pissing match. “Glad to see you could finally make it over. Haven’t been to the club in a while. I’m busy here and it’s too damn busy there. We have to catch up soon. I miss talking to you. But you’re with company, so another time. Lunch is on the house, and it’s been a pleasure meeting you both. Kira will be hooking you up today, so I’ll stop back by after you’ve eaten.”

  “Thanks Dubz,” I say. “This place is fucking amazing.”

  “Living the dream,” he says, smiling.

  “Fuckin’ a,” says Rafe, while Rogan stares him down. He goes back to the bar while we order damn near everything off the menu. Apparently, Rogan hasn’t eaten in ten years.

  Kira brought us our food and drinks like a pro. The food was amazing, Rafe swore the beer sampler was… oh, how did he put it? ‘Fucking smooth’. Rogan and I each had a pop. We make small talk, but I need Rafe on my side here, and since I know Rogan well enough to know he doesn’t want me caught by this nut job, I need Rafe to run offense for me.

  “So, Rafe,” I say. “There’s a pretty solid chance this wacko wants to grab me.”

  “Yeah?” he says. “How’d you come up with that?”

  “It’s what makes the least sense,” I say. ”Which means it makes the most sense. The girls, Macy, the club; all of those things center around me, so it stands to reason it’s leading up to my capture. What are your thoughts?”

  “Dammit, Angel,” says Rogan, grabbing my hand.

  “I think we need to catch the guy and gut him, that’s what I think,” he says.

  “I agree,” I say. “Which is why I’m offering myself up as bait, and I need you two to back me up.”

  “Fuck,” says Rogan. “Not gonna happen.”

  “Makes sense, partner,” Rafe says.

  “It ain’t your woman being the bait, now is it?” spits Rogan.

  “No,” he says. “But the woman I have serious interest in is a part of this, too. Venessa can handle herself, and she has us and the backing of the club, whereas Macy is essentially clueless in this. She’s the logical choice. I agree with her that she’s next. He’s riling her up, trying to throw her off.”

  “No,” says Rogan.

  “Hear me out,” Rafe says. “The drug can be stolen and reproduced. But this dick is targeting her specifically. He’s going to take her, and it’s just a matter of when and how. We should give her the best fighting chance. She’s safest at the club right now; too many people pay her attention there.”

  “Which is why I think that’s where he’ll attempt to do it.”

  “Go on,” says Rogan.

  “I said ‘attempt’. I think he’ll have some lackey give me a go in the club, to gauge what happens. When it fails, and it will, because security will be tightened up, he’ll make a play for me somewhere else. He’s been watching my reaction with the other girls, and now with the drug. He knew my routine. I think he’s running me in circles, and it needs to stop.”

  “We need to talk with Max and Tony, too,” Rafe offers.

  “Fuck Tony,” says Rogan.

  “Kharma?”

  I hear my name and we all cease talking. A man, probably twenty three years old, approaches me.

  “Oh, hey,” I say. “How are ya?”

  “I thought it was you,” he says. “I come to the club Saturdays. Just wanted to come by and tell you that you’re fucking awesome.”

  “Wow, thanks,” I say. ‘What’s your name?”

  “Brandon.”

  “Give the man at the door this code on Saturday,” I say, writing it on a napkin. “Tell him I sent you, and you and your party won’t pay cover yeah?”

  “Fuck yeah,” he says. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” I say, “thanks for stopping over.” I hope this gives him the hint it’s time to leave, but it’s ignored.

  “Could I get a picture with you?” he asks shyly. “I can never get close enough to you at the club to ask.”

  I find myself momentarily frozen. A picture is harmless, yeah? But I don’t want this guy, this stranger next to me with an arm on the shoulder or anything like that. I should just say no, and leave it at that. But when I find myself nodding instantly, I feel Rogan’s hands on my shoulders.

  “One picture,” says Rogan. “Do not touch her.”

  “Sure, man, no problem,” he says, calling his friend over. He stands next to me, but doesn’t touch me, although I can feel the excitement of wanting to. He thanks me, all smiles, and I calm down. I made the guy happy, and it wasn’t so bad.

  “Hey, Kharma? One with me?” says another guy, and I can hear Rafe curse and Rogan exits the booth to stand next to me.

  “Sure,” I say totally uncomfortable.

  “I’m Darren,” he offers.

  “Kharma,” I say, and Brandon takes picture after picture and I tune out their bragging. My lunch is coming back up.

  The next ten minutes are a blur. Brandon and Darren brought friends who wanted pictures, and then the waitstaff, other customers even the, owner Stephen introduced himself, and all the while I’m trying not to hyperventilate. I notice Rafe throw money on the table, and Rogan walks me out. I’m trying to hold it together, but several people did touch me and I want to scrub them off my skin. The boys are discussing getting me home and giving me time to relax before I sound check for work tomorrow night. Rogan asks me if I’m alright to ride, and I nod, just willing to do whatever it takes to leave.

  Rogan has Rafe stay back, to make sure we aren’t followed, and Rafe will head over to Wayne State to make sure Macy made it home safely.

  I ride back like the devil himself is on my back. I can’t get home fast enough. I run red lights, make sharp turns, and all but throw my bike down to get to my shower. I run up the stairs two at a time to try and use up the adrenaline pumping through my veins. The need to hurt someone, anyone, is like a drug in my system.

  Rogan enters behind me and starts my shower as I strip everything off and throw it clear across the room. I run for the shower as he sets towels on the sink for me.

  I start scrubbing immediately. Ignoring the pain of it, I start on my hair and face. I feel his hands on me, and since I hadn’t heard him come in I should be startled, but I wasn’t. He doesn’t speak. Instead, he starts rubbing my breasts, squeezing my nipples, then he pushes me forward, and I rest my head on the cold tile. He continues his sensual assault, and then takes his leg and uses it to spread mine open. He takes his cock and rubs it between my legs to tease me. He’s squeezing me harder, rubbing me harder, and trying to find a way in. I get up on my toes to further ope
n myself for him, but the height difference is too much, so he almost squats to accommodate me. Once we are aligned, he slams into me with such brute force I lose my breath.

  He finds his rhythm instantly. I’m just along for the ride, and I’m one hundred percent okay with that. I brace both hands on the tile to save my face from being smashed in. He’s ramming me with intent, he’s claiming me again, and I need more of him. Just as I’m about to demand more, he latches on to the base of my neck and bites down really fucking hard.

  I come so hard and fast, I scream my way through it. He doesn’t even slow down to let me recover. I have nothing to grab onto, and when I try to turn around he rams me even harder. The bite still burns but his cock ramming me helps me to tune it out. I’m on the edge again, so I turn my head to look at him, and it’s the most savage expression I have ever seen.

  He notices me watching and watches me back. He’s giving it to me so god damn hard, I’m afraid my knees will snap trying to stay in this position. He has my hips secured in his hands, so as he continues to annihilate my senses, my entire body is so alert I can’t form a sentence. I’m not even sure of what I’m trying to say at this point, but when he seals his mouth over mine, I grow even more wet, more needy. Eyes open, mouths fused, I ready myself again. He grips my hips so hard I cry out in joy? Pain? Who the fuck cares.

  He bites my bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth. I whimper because I’m helpless until he gives it back to me. With my head back in an awkward position, he releases my lip then releases my hip to wrap his hands around my hair and pull my head back even further. To say I’m going to be sore later is an understatement. My hair being pulled from underneath hurts, but the serious cock fuck I’m getting is worth it. Just when I think it couldn’t get any better, he releases my other hip, and before I can register where his hand went he spanks me so fucking hard my eyes cross and my legs give out.