The Biker's Virgin

by A. A. Dark

  Lauren jumped up off the couch, grabbed the remote from Misty’s hand, and tried to turn it up. Misty spoke into the phone, “Just turned on the TV. No, I had no idea he escaped. I haven’t seen him or heard from him, Uncle Jesse.”

  The Sheriff looked around the crime scene. Blue and red sirens spun light beams through the air. The bodies were now gone, taken off to the coroners, but the forensic teams were still combing the area. Sheriff Wilkes spoke back into the phone, “Listen here, Misty. This is a serious matter. Jasper Connor is armed and dangerous. If he contacts you, I need you to stay away from him and call me. You got that, sugar? Now, don’t go taking this lightly. I need to know you got it.”

  “I get it. I definitely get it.” She hung up with her uncle and looked at Lauren, “This is bad, Lauren. Really bad. Do you think he killed those people?”

  “No. I know he didn’t kill those people. Misty, can someone watch your dog? It isn’t safe here. We should go.” This whole situation was completely out of hand now. Lauren had to get in touch with Jasper, and the only way she could do that now, is to get in touch with Georgie. On her knees, she slid back toward the coffee table. She shut the laptop and started stuffing everything on the table into her bag, including the stuffed horse. “Misty, we need to go NOW!”

  Misty wasn’t arguing. She was chasing the dog around the house, trying to grab him and stuff him into her dog carrier, “Do you know where we are going?”

  Lauren nodded, “Yep. We’re going where everyone else is going … to see Whitey Smith.”

  ***

  “You ready for this, brother?” Georgie was loading guns into a duffle bag. He and Jasper were out in an old underground bomb shelter that Georgie’s grandfather had built back in the 60’s. The opening was well- hidden, and while the town rumored the shelter’s existence, very few actually ever saw it, and even fewer remembered how to get to it. They were safe for the moment.

  Jasper nodded and kept packing ammo and loading guns, “I’m ready. It’s time Whitey gets a dose of his own medicine. I’m going to take him out lightning quick. Then, I’m grabbing Lauren and getting the fuck out of Dodge.”

  Georgie nodded and lifted his eyes to the muted TV. His father made some updates to the shelter so they could get a signal underground. Sometimes it would glitch, but now the screen was perfect, “I’m surprised the cops aren’t here yet.”

  Jasper looked up at the screen. He scowled as he watched his name scroll across the bottom of the screen, while the news special showed a montage of his photos growing up. “Jeezus. Where did they get that photo? The cops probably don’t know about you yet. The guys you hired are all dead. The warden isn’t going to admit he was in on it.”

  “Nonetheless, they’re going to be here soon. We should hit the road. This will be the real test …” Georgie said it as he moved toward the ladder hinged to the hatch. As he got to the third rung from the top, his phone went berserk. “There we go.” His thumb scrolled his missed calls. “Lauren called a few times.” He looked down at Jasper to gauge a response.

  Jasper sighed as he packed up a second duffle bag, “I don’t think we should talk to her right now.” He didn’t offer more. He didn’t need to.

  Georgie moved his thumb over the phone number, but changed his mind about pressing it at the last minute. “Yeah, she’ll probably just make things complicated.” He slid down the ladder like it was a firemen’s pole and stuffed the phone back in his pocket. “How do you want to do this?”

  Jasper started slinging bags over his shoulders, “I want to go right through the front door, blow his fucking head off, and walk right back out the front door. Did you get passports?”

  Georgie nodded, “Yeah.” He patted the zipped pocket of his vest. “If I get shot, don’t forget to take them with you.”

  Jasper stopped what he was doing and walked right over to Georgie. He grabbed him by the face and looked into his friend’s eyes. They were the eyes of a true brother.

  “You’re not getting shot today. I can’t do this without you. You have been a true brother, and I know what you’ve risked for me, Georgie.”

  The two men embraced, each giving the other a hard pound on the back before disengaging.

  “Ok, then let’s go kill this sumbitch.” Georgie smiled and slung two bags over his shoulder, as well.

  They locked down the shelter and made their way to Georgie’s black van. After loading it up, Georgie slipped into the driver’s seat while Jasper set up the passenger’s seat. He got the first round of guns ready and easy to grab. Georgie’s phone started ringing again.

  “It’s the warden.”

  Jasper laughed, “Definitely hit the ‘fuck you’ button on that one.” He pulled a cap down over his eyes, then slapped the dashboard, “Let’s do this.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Now, one might ask themselves how a high class woman, like Darla Lovell, ended up with the bad boy biker criminal, Whitey Smith. Sure, the rumors were true. Whitey had a big dick. He oozed confidence. He was powerful and fearless. All of these were quite attractive traits, particularly for a young, rich, law student that wanted to piss her daddy off and walk on the wild side. Whitey kissed her lips, then headed for the door. Before he left, he looked back and said, “You just agree with Big Stu and Beatle. You don’t worry about anything. Stay in here until the police come. Let the guys handle it.” Then he was gone.

  Gunshot! Monkey Bone was dead. The story went as follows:

  Big Stu: ‘Monkey Bone had seen Darla hanging around the bar. He was obsessed with her. Tonight, he decided he was going to have her, or no one could. He tore off from the bar, and me and Beatle went after him. We were minutes behind him. We walked in, and he had just stabbed the fiancé. When we tried to move toward him, he pulled out the gun and shot himself in the head.”

  Darla, honey?” He shook her face a bit, and Darla nodded several times. She couldn’t find her voice to verbally agree, but she did understand.

  Beatle: “It’s just like Big Stu said, Monkey was obsessed with Darla. Tonight was the night he was going to hurt her. We had been trying to talk him out of coming over here at the bar, but he didn’t listen. He was drunk and high, and we followed him here. He stabbed the boyfriend and shot himself when he realized what he’d done.

  Darla: “Brad and I were having a fight in the apartment. We were arguing. It all happened so fast. The knife was on the counter. Monkey Bone barged into the apartment. He was mad that Brad was yelling at me. He shoved Brad, grabbed the knife, then stabbed Brad, just as Big Stu and Beatle entered the apartment. They saw him do it. Then everything was a blur as he pulled a gun and shot himself.

  And that’s why Darla Lovell was forever indebted to Whitey Smith and the Brass Bonds Motorcycle Club. They saved her life that night and poor Monkey Bone was a dead man. Whitey found out that Monkey Bone had been stealing from him, so he was already marked for death. Whitey, ever the opportunist, saw a way to kill two birds with one stone.

  ***

  Now years later, she stood staring down Whitey, who was so cavalier about the shit storm that was coming their way. Surely, Jasper could show up at any moment. They had the meeting with Lorenzo Mauriello, which if it did not go well, could lead to a war with the mob, and the truth was, Darla was just tired of Whitey’s shit. While she was grateful for not going to jail for murdering Brad Vanderwall, she was tired of Whitey owning her body and soul.

  Darla wiped away the evidence of Whitey’s satisfaction from her mouth with the back of her hand. She was glaring at him now. They had too much to do and all he was worried about was using her for his pleasure. Typical Whitey. She watched him zip his pants up with a big smile on his face, “Great head, babe. You’re still the best, even after all these years.”

  Darla stood up and smoothed her skirt, “Are you prepared to meet with Mauriello tonight?” She combed her fingers through her hair, trying to neaten her appearance post blow job.

  Whitey lit up a cigar, feeling quite satisfied. His ey
es shifted toward her in a sideways glance while he puffed on it, causing the tip to flare red, “What are you worried about, Darla?” He had a sense that she had something on her mind.

  “Nothing, really. Do you have any intention of giving him the deed? I’m sure he won’t be coming alone, Whitey. Lorenzo Mauriello is a specific type of businessman. Fuck him over and we’re all dead.”

  Whitey took a long drag and settled himself into the big leather chair. As he pulled the cigar from his mouth, his index finger curled over the top of it, and he puffed big white circles into the air.

  “Don’t you worry even one of your pretty blonde hairs about Mauriello. I can manage the meeting. You’re my lawyer and my slut – not my consigliere.” He sarcastically tried to sound like an Italian mob boss.

  “Do you even have a deed to this land?” She couldn’t hide the tone in her voice. Not now, after having to suck down his seed and deal with all of the other issues that were going on, such as not knowing where Jasper was or what Lauren had on the video footage. The footage! Darla grabbed her cell phone to check for the link that Lauren was supposed to send.

  Whitey was watching Darla with suspicious eyes. What did she care whether or not he had the deed? It was none of her business. His eyes moved on her as she appeared to have suddenly remember something and grabbed her cell phone.

  “Looks like our little Lauren came through.” Darla pulled her laptop from her briefcase and loaded it up. After a few clicks, she found the email with the link and clicked it. It took a full five seconds for the video to open, but there it was … a clear shot of Whitey and Big Stu in Lucas Jackson’s office, arguing with him about the deed.

  “Whitey, I need that FUCKING deed! I can’t give you this money without it. He’ll kill me!”

  “What are you worried about? I got the deed. I’ll bring it over later. Just give me the money now, and I’ll take care of the deed later. I promise.” Whitey offered Lucas a big ‘trust me’ grin.

  “No. Whitey, no. I’m not giving you this money. There’s two million in cash in here. I’m not giving it without the deed.”

  “Lucas, listen.” Whitey’s voice was calm and collected. He was an imposing man, and with Big Stu standing behind him, there was no way Whitey wasn’t walking out of there with that money. In fact, that’s EXACTLY what he told Lucas, “You can either give me the money, or I can take the money. Which way would work best for you? Either I take it … or you give it. Get it?”

  “Fuck!” Lucas shoved the money toward the far side of the desk, and stuffed his fingers in his hair with complete despair and frustration. “Whitey, I’m coming to the bar tomorrow to pick up that deed. Don’t make me or Mauriello come looking for you. Please, Whitey.”

  “Pleasure doing business with you, Lucas. Don’t worry about the deed. I’ll make sure you get what’s coming to you.” With that, Whitey picked up the suitcase and walked out of the room, with Big Stu right behind him.

  “I never did give him the deed, but he definitely got what was coming to him.” Whitey grinned at Darla after stopping the tape.

  Darla was fuming. Whitey enjoyed pushing the envelope but lately he was becoming completely reckless. “Whitey, do you understand how damaging this is? If the Sheriff sees this footage, he will absolutely re-open the Lucas Jackson murder and investigate.”

  Whitey slammed his hands down on the table, at the same time as lifting his body from the chair. He towered over Darla, and his speed and aggression made her jump in her skin, “Don’t you dare tell me my fucking business! Enough with your mouth already, and this deed. You do what I tell you to do and nothing more. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be doing life for sticking a 9-inch blade in your fiancé’s neck!” He turned around and punched a wall in sheer frustration!

  Inhaling sharply, Whitey calmed himself, then walked up to Darla, “Now. I’m going to go over the game plan with MY crew. You keep your ass right here in this room, and you don’t do shit until I call for you. You got it?” He grabbed her face and held it tight while she nodded that she understood. Satisfied she was convinced, he let her face go and headed for the door, “Text Mauriello from Peter’s phone and confirm the meeting. Make sure he knows to be on time.”

  Darla watched Whitey go, then went to her bag to retrieve the phone. She pulled it out and stared at it for a long while before scrolling to Mauriello’s phone number. Then she sent the text. After that, she scrolled to another phone number and sent another text.

  CHAPTER 32

  Georgie felt his phone vibrate and pulled it out of his pocket. Jasper was constantly checking the mirrors for cops. “What the fuck?” Georgie was reading his phone, “Ain’t this something?” He passed the phone to Jasper while he steered the van off the main road and onto a dirt one. They bounced along as Jasper read the text. Jasper looked confused.

  “I don’t understand. What the hell does this mean?”

  “I guess we’re about to find out, brother! I got a place we can hide out until tonight.

  “Do you think she’s being set up?”

  “No idea. This is Whitey we’re talking about. Anything could happen.”

  ***

  Lauren texted Darla. She hadn’t heard back from her about the video footage, and all she wanted was simple confirmation that Whitey would leave Jasper alone. On top of that, Georgie still hadn’t responded as to where Jasper was hiding.

  “Misty, please take my phone and call Darla. Maybe she knows where Jasper is hiding out. I’m getting really nervous and need some answers.”

  Misty took the phone and started scrolling. As she scrolled, the phone started to ring, “It’s Peter.” She held the phone out to Laura, and Laura shook her head as she tried to focus on the road.

  “I don’t want to talk to him. Not right now.”

  As Misty went to reject the call, she accepted it by accident.

  “Lauren, pick up the phone!” It was Darla’s voice. Lauren skidded the car to a halt and grabbed the phone from Misty’s hands.

  “Darla, I knew you were fucking my fiancé, but calling me from his phone, really?”

  “Lauren, shut up. This is important. Peter’s dead and Jasper will soon be dead if you don’t listen to me, closely.”

  Lauren covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from screaming.

  “If you want to see Jasper, you need to meet us on the roof of the Triumph Tower Three building. Be there at 11:30pm, Lauren. Do not be late.”

  Then the phone went dead. Dead like Peter.

  ***

  Whitey stood with his gang, going over the plan. They were out back, facing the road that leads to the Triumph Towers. Darla was watching from the window. She needed to do one more thing before their meeting tonight. She needed to find the deed.

  First, she checked all of the obvious places. She checked the closet and Whitey’s desk. Darla knew that office fairly well. She had spent nearly every day of her life there since that fateful night she killed Brad. Whitey had a safe, but something inside her told her the deed wouldn’t be there. Whitey liked to think he was smarter than everyone. He would do something creative. Then she saw it, and cursed herself for not seeing it sooner.

  Darla got up from the desk, and went and sat in Whitey’s chair at the head of the long meeting table. Straight ahead in her line of vision was the set of heavy carved doors, but just to the right was a fireplace, and on top of the fireplace was a large urn, raised up on a pedestal. The urn was said to carry the ashes of Whitey’ dead father. She jumped up and headed over to the urn, glancing nervously outside to see Whitey moving his hands around, and pointing in various directions. He looked like a football coach instructing his guys on how to run the ball and play the field.

  The coast was still clear, so she dragged a chair over to the fireplace, slipped her heels off, and climbed on top of the chair. Carefully, Darla tried to twist the top off the urn, but it wasn’t budging. Did Whitey fuse it on? It was entirely possible that he sealed it, but she had to keep trying. As s
he wrapped her arms around the heavy urn to shift it some, hoping to get a better grip, she felt the urn itself shift off the pedestal it was mounted on. At first, she thought it was attached, but it wasn’t.

  Instinctively, she slid the urn off the pedestal and felt all around it before picking it up in her hands. The pedestal was large in size to accommodate the urn, but it wasn’t heavy. It was hollow inside. The bottom of the pedestal was covered in green felt. Each side of the pedestal had an ornate wooden rectangle that stuck out from the frame of the pedestal. As Darla turned it over and over, she examined the four base pegs underneath the pedestal. She tried to screw them off. Three didn’t budge, but the fourth slid off when she pushed it a certain way. Once off, the peg hole revealed a button. Darla pressed it and one of the rectangular panels popped open. She couldn’t believe her eyes! Without hesitation, she stuffed her hand inside and pulled out the fucking deed! “Think you’re so smart, Whitey Smith.”

  She could hear the men outside getting rowdy. They were mentally rallied up for tonight. They’d party and fuck like it was their last night on Earth. This is how they always acted when there was a big score going down. Her hands moved fast to put everything back, exactly as it she found it. He’d be back in the bar soon enough, and she needed to hide the deed as quickly as possible, and now that she had it in her hot little hands, the game was changed.

  ***

  Darkness had fallen and it was two hours before the scheduled meeting. Jasper and Georgie parked the van in a dark, shadowy corner. Looking around, they made sure they were alone before grabbing the duffel bags full of guns, “Georgie, this doesn’t make sense. Where is everyone?”

  Georgie’s eyes shifted back and forth as they made their way to the Triumph Tower Three Building. The building was still under construction, but the freight elevator was working so they could get construction materials up on the higher floors. “I don’t know, Jasper. I don’t like this. Something doesn’t feel right. Whitey wouldn’t want to meet on a roof, away from his guys. How the fuck is this going to happen?”