“Might be a good place to store the guns.”
“Yeah, definitely,” I say as I consider Aaron’s words. “When I get back I’ll set up a meeting with Cain about it. But I need to go see what’s happening first, and get rid of Ward.”
“Doesn’t the old man have a son? Will he be a problem?”
“Yeah, name’s Dillon. Never met him though. Ward just mentioned the kid once. But if he becomes a problem, I’ll bury him beside his old man.”
Aaron chuckles and shakes his head at me. “You sure you need to take anyone with you?” He stands from his chair. “I mean, you’d kill ‘em just as soon as look at ‘em.” He chuckles again and walks to the door.
“Fuck off. Go get another blow job.”
“I think I will.” He leaves and closes the door behind him.
I rise from my chair and walk out of my office, down the hall through my bedroom and into the bathroom. I turn the shower on to scalding hot as the steam begins to fill the bathroom, fogging the mirror over the vanity. I strip off my clothes, already having deposited my cut on the bed as I walked through.
I don’t bother testing the intensity of the hot water. I want it to burn, to hurt.
I want to rinse away the horror that drips from my every pore. Evil is so deeply embedded in me that I can’t stop it from coming to the surface. The hate I carry for nearly every fucker in this dreary, dark world. I want it all gone; I want to be washed clean.
Standing under the pelting stream, I allow the water’s touch to caress my body. I let the contact lull me into believing I’m not an arrogant asshole.
But nothing changes.
This MC is my home, my family, and sometimes I hate it. Sometimes I wish I could go back to that night and change what made me so damned spiteful.
Cain.
And her.
I’d give anything if I could only go back to that night and change everything about it.
I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the tiled shower wall.
Her flaming red hair.
If it were possible to do one thing over again, I’d go back to that night, skip the fight and take her away.
Never let her go. Never let her slip away. Always have her close to me.
Instead I’m left with the memory of her wild red hair and the look of absolute terror on her pretty face as she gripped the formless man standing next to her.
Fuck, I need to find out who she is.
I want her.
TWO
“Wake up, fucker.”
I turn over and bury my head further into the pillow.
“J, wake up. You gotta get going,” Aaron says as he kicks one of the legs of my bed.
“Unless you wanna suck my wood or someone’s dead, piss off,” I groan as I move the pillow over my head to drown out Aaron’s annoying voice.
“I’m not blowing you, man. But get the fuck up. Sarge and the prospects are waiting for you.”
“The fuck I care if they’re waiting? They can keep waiting.” I sit up in bed and Aaron’s now sitting in the single arm chair in my room. “What do you want?” I look at the time on the clock behind him and see it’s just before 8:00 a.m. I groan.
“It’s a four-hour ride. You got to get going. On the way to check on the farm, Cain wants you to deliver a rifle to a friend of his.”
“What? No, I’m not carrying today. Take a few of the prospects and go. I’m riding straight through and hope to be back early tomorrow.” I run my hands over my eyes and then through my hair to try and wake up.
“Well, I’m just passing on the message from Cain.” Aaron lifts his shoulders and looks away.
“I’ll call that asshole and deal with him,” I say as I stand and raise my arms, stretching my back out.
“Don’t worry about it, brother. I’ll run the merchandise. Just go and see what we need to do with this farm to get it ready for storage.” Aaron stands and leaves my room.
I watch as he closes the door behind him, and I fall back into bed not wanting to get this day started.
Last night all I thought about was her. The terrified look she had on her face as she clung to the featureless man beside her. God, what a damn turn-on, seeing her so frightened.
The ferociously wild red locks that swept across her beautiful, innocent face.
My cock starts twitching against my boxers with just those memories, which are the only reminder I have of her.
I begin lightly stroking myself, thinking about her untamed red hair. I want to tame her.
Thinking about what could be, if only I could find her again.
Closing my eyes, I move one hand to cup my balls and pull them down as I knead and squeeze them. The other hand strokes my cock from tip to shaft in long, even caresses, and on the upstroke I flick the tip with my thumb.
In my imagination, her lips come down on my cock. With the softest of touches, she sweeps her tongue across my slit, licking all the pre-cum off. Her tender blue eyes look up at me and she smiles with pleasure as she sucks me into her mouth.
I weave my fingers through her hair and begin to move her head in the way I want her fucking me.
Yeah, Red. Keep that going.
She removes her mouth and with a small giggle, she plunges my balls between those swollen, pouty, pink lips. I hold her head there and let her keep pleasing my sac with her mouth. Red lets out a tiny groan that vibrates through my balls, all the way up my spine. I shudder with a euphoric, horny craving to bury myself down her throat.
My mouth falls open and I can hear the groans escaping my rumbling chest. My stomach coils and my sac tightens.
“Pull hard on my balls, Red. Don’t let me come yet.”
I feel her warm hand grab my sac and pull down with just the right pressure to stop me from coming. It’s painful, but my hips are rolling on their own, wanting the pleasure to last a bit longer. My cock aches to shoot my cum down Red’s throat. I burn for her mouth to swallow me.
A bolt of electricity shoots up my spine as Red swallows my cock. She tortures me with her hand as she stretches out my sac. “I’m gonna come,” I murmur as pure ecstasy rips through my body.
With powerful thrusts that lift my hips clear off the bed, hot cum spills from the end of my cock. I feel it coat my hand and my lower stomach as I keep tugging, draining every last drop.
I open my eyes and just lay on my bed looking up at the ceiling. Damn, even in my fantasies, Red can certainly suck cock.
I let my heart regain its normal rhythm and finally get up and walk into the bathroom. My hand and stomach are coated in cum. I could get one of the club whores to come in and lick it up, but I suppose I should get my ass into gear so I can get to the farm.
Turning the water to an almost scorching temperature, I step in and wash away the sticky liquid. Ten minutes later, cum rinsed off and freshly washed, I wrap a towel around my waist and brush my hair so the excess water flicks off.
I walk out of my bedroom and down the hall. I can hear the members talking and some of the skanks giggling. When I hit the bar area, Candy, or Cindy, whatever her name is, looks up at me from the sofa she’s sitting on.
“Cindy, my sheets need washing.”
“I’ll do it for you, Jaeger. It’s Sandy though. Remember? I told you last night,” she says, then giggles and skips to my room.
What-the-fuck-ever.
“We’ll be leaving in fifteen, Sarge.” I look over to our Sergeant-At-Arms and he gives me a small nod. Sarge doesn’t say much. He’s quiet when it comes to interaction. But he’ll slice your throat open without even batting a damn eyelid.
One of our smaller rivals was trying to create a problem for us a couple years back. Sent one of their own over to our clubhouse to ‘pay us a visit’. Sarge calmly watched from the monitors as the guy snuck through a hole in one of the fences. He sat quietly, not saying a word as the guy came right into the compound.
Then Sarge got up off his seat, walked outside in broad daylight, clapped a hand over th
e guy’s back and started leading him in toward the bar.
I was smiling as I watched this, because I know that Sarge lives for the Hunters.
As he was walking the guy over, he gutted him. Took a hunting knife out of the waistband of his jeans and stabbed the cunt in the ribs then slid the knife across his gut.
The asshole had no idea what the fuck happened. He went down like a bag of shit. His intestines spilled out, and Sarge simply scooped them up, stuffed them in a plastic shopping bag and took off down the street in the direction of the MC trying to cause us trouble.
Sarge came back two hours later covered in blood and smelling like gasoline.
The members disposed of the guy Sarge had gutted like a fish, and the prospects got rid of all the blood.
All that time, Sarge never said a fucking word. But the other MC disappeared and the hole in the fence was fixed.
I asked Sarge once why we barely ever hear him speak. He just smiled at me and said, “J, just ‘cause we got a voice, it don’t mean we should use it.” From then on, when Sarge spoke, I listened to him carefully.
I walk back into my room and Sandy’s still making my bed. I drop my towel on the floor and put my jeans on. Sandy audibly gasps as her eyes roam my body from top to bottom before she turns away and fumbles with the sheets.
“I’m done now, Jaeger. Want me to do your laundry too?” she asks with the biggest fucking smile I’ve ever seen. Who gets happy about washing someone else’s dirty clothes?
“Yeah, thanks Sandy.” I tap her on the ass as she walks past me to the bathroom. She fucking giggles, again. I roll my eyes and keep getting dressed.
“I’ll have them ready for you by this afternoon,” she adds cheerily as she carries my laundry basket out.
Dressed in my jeans, a white t-shirt and my club cut, I waltz out to the kitchen area to find Sandy standing near the coffee machine.
“Would you like coffee, Jaeger?” she asks, so damned perky. What is there to be so happy about? Man, this chick needs to stop getting laid if that’s what makes her such a damned chirpy motherfucking bird all the time.
“Yeah. Black. Make me something to eat too,” I tell her as I sit at one of the chairs of the table.
“Sure thing. Anything in particular or is toast okay?”
“Whatever, just hurry up.” I pick up my tablet and start flicking through the news of the world. Nothing interesting, no one got killed around here. Really, I’m just skimming through it so I don’t have to make small talk with Little Miss Sunshine.
Sandy brings my coffee and sets a plate in front of me with two pieces of buttered toast. I quietly eat and thankfully, she leaves after cleaning the mess she made in the kitchen. She must be washing my dirty clothes.
Sarge’s heavy footsteps can be heard coming down the wooden hallway. His boots are weighted below his body and he drags one leg. He told me once it was a war wound from before I met him, but the fucker never told me what sort ‘war’ he fought. I guessed it had to do with his military service, so I never asked.
Don’t concern my club, it don’t concern me.
Sarge plonks his ass on one of the chairs, looks at me, and gives me a nod.
“You ready?” I ask between bites of my toast.
“Hmmm,” he replies, meaning ‘yes’.
“You packing?”
“Hmmm.”
“Look, we’re crossing a state line. I want you to leave it here.”
“Huh?” Sarge’s brows are furrowed together.
“Leave it here. Make sure the prospects aren’t packing either. I’ll be out in ten.”
Sarge stands and makes his way out toward the shed that houses our bikes.
I finish off my breakfast and follow Sarge.
Something’s gonna happen today; I can feel it. I just know crossing state lines is going to cause some sort of shit.
What the fuck is today going to bring for me and my club?
THREE
Sarge is flanking me to the right and the two prospects, Jason and Lion, are three car lengths behind. We’ve crossed the Nebraska state line into Wyoming, so we need to play by the rules here.
Nothing worse than…
Fuck me.
’Nothing worse” is just about to happen.
I see the flashes of red and blue lights behind the prospects and they pull over to the side of the road. Behind that police cruiser is another with its lights flashing. They speed up and motion for Sarge and me to pull our Harleys over.
Sarge cuts in front of me and parks his bike. I come up next to him on the dirt shoulder and do the same.
We shut them down, get off the bikes and take our helmets off, hanging them over the handlebars.
“Stay where you are,” the cop says over his loudspeaker.
You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me with this shit.
“You left your piece behind?” I ask Sarge.
“Hmmm,” he replies.
“The prospects?”
“Them too,” he says angrily.
“We’re in their territory. Just don’t kill the pig and we’ll be right.”
“Hmmm.” He chuckles.
There are three cops in the cruiser, and they all get out at the same time. With hands on their guns, they cautiously walk over toward us. I look down the half-mile gap between us and the prospects and see that the cops are frisking the boys against their car.
“Licenses?” one arrogant ass asks as he steps closer to me. “Straying away from home aren’t you? Got business in my backyard?”
We hand over our licenses and I watch as the other two cops form a protective triangle behind Officer Arrogant.
“Nah, nothing like that. Just going to see a man about a dog.” I chuckle at my own joke. This is the standard line we use when we get stopped outside our territory.
“Who’s the man?”
“Don’t know him.”
“Where’s he live?”
“Don’t know, meeting him at a park.”
“Where’s your dog carrier?”
“Might not like the mutt. I’ll come back and get him if I do.”
“What park you meeting him at?” Officer Arrogant Ass asks.
“You wanna join us for a coffee too?”
Sarge lets out a bellow of a laugh and the two other cops step in closer to us, flipping the straps on their holsters up. I think they’re trying to intimidate us. But instead, they look like they’re scared to death.
“What’s the issue? Do you wanna do a sobriety test on us? Were we speeding? Are you booking us?”
“Hands on the car and spread your legs.”
I look at Sarge and see his anger building rapidly behind those calm eyes. I give him a small shake of the head, signaling him to back off and play it cool.
“If you’re so desperate to become intimate with me, you should at least buy me a drink.”
“You’re a mouthy one. Now spread those fucking legs before I take you down to the station and ruin whatever plans you have.”
Fuck.
I lean up against the car and spread my legs and Sarge does the same thing. We’re being frisked by one cop as one of the others goes over our bikes, checking them out like they’re some sort of guaranteed moving violation.
In the distance, but closing in at rapid speed, I hear the sound of a V8 engine hurtling down the empty highway. I look up in the direction of the noise, and an older, faded yellow F150 is approaching. For an older truck, that thing can really move. The truck has to be doing at least ninety miles an hour, and it doesn’t look like it’s slowing down either.
“Looks like your girl’s in a hurry,” one of the cops says to Officer Arrogant.
“Yep, must be going home to cook me a feast,” he says with a chuckle.
The others laugh and I tighten the hold on my temper, trying to avoid smashing the fucker’s head in. They’re taking too long.
“We got word of an MC coming through today. Intel said they’re here to create problems. Are
you here to cause me problems?”
“Nope,” I say as I turn around and lean my ass against the cruiser once he’s done searching me. I look over at Sarge, and he’s stepped away from the cruiser altogether. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets. I can tell he’s doing everything in his power not to kill them all.
“Go see about your dog, then get the fuck out my state. But while you’re here, I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.” He turns his back on me. Mistake number one, fucker. If this was a fight, you’d be dead by now.
I move off the cruiser, and all three officers get back in. They turn off their lights, make a U-turn, and leave. The other cop car follows. The prospects come up to us, and Sarge and I lean against our bikes.
“What happened?” I ask Lion and Jason.
“Nothing. They pulled us over, frisked us, and asked us where we’re headed. Told ‘em we were checking out a dog. Then they just sat back and asked us about our machines,” Jason answers, shrugging as he lights up a smoke.
I study Jason for a moment before I clap a hand to Sarge’s shoulder and we walk away from the prospects.
“That was a target on us,” I say as I look at Sarge. He nods his head in agreement. “Someone knows our business, or…” I stop talking and let the worst case play out in my head. “We’ve been sold out.”
“Fuck,” Sarge mumbles heavily.
“Look, for now it stays here with you, me, and the prospects. No one breathes a word.” Sarge is nodding and I turn to look at Jason and Lion.
“You two, not a fucking word about the cops.”
“Sure,” they both reply in unison.
“Let’s get to the farm and see what’s on it. I don’t remember seeing a barn, but we can bring in a storage container if there isn’t one.”
The prospects get on their pissy little Harleys and Sarge and I pull out onto the empty highway.
With a good forty minutes left before we get to the farm, there’s not much else to do but think about the cops pulling us over.
It feels like the moment we crossed state line, we were targeted. With the cops breathing down our backs and making it clear they were going to stay on us, I have this sinking feeling that our club’s luck is about to turn to shit.
Grit Page 2
