I smile at him and run my hand over his chest as he reclines back in his chair. He’s looking at me suspiciously, eyes on my open legs, and he looks back up to my face. “Bambi, what do you want? I’m busy and the club’s been cleared of all female company.”
Fuck, I need him to want to play my game. “Since you’ve been the man to help me out over the years by keeping me with a roof over my head and food on the table and clothes on my son’s back, I just wanted to repay you a little while I was in town. That’s all. You don’t need to be so suspicious and shit. I just want a little fun and I was bored waiting on Flem.”
He eyes me again. He turns his chair towards me and starts to undo his pants. Usually, he wears leathers, but today he’s dressed in Levi’s and a tee shirt. He’s old as fuck compared to me but he’s still got a nice build for an old man. I guess he was a looker in his prime. I know that he was with his old lady for almost twenty-five years and was always faithful to her while they were together. I don’t know the whole story, but he saved her.
I jump down off his desk and turn his chair away so his back is facing the desk. The perfect angle for Deacon to shoot him in the head, nice and clean. I walk in front of him and lean in to kiss him, grabbing his semi-hard cock with my left hand. I begin to stroke it while licking his lips and kissing him. I feel him growing hard in my hand so I bend down on my knees and lean forward to take him into my mouth. God, I want to gag doing this. He does not turn me on at all, but a job is a job. I slowly look up at him and smile at him.
“Prez, I hope you’re up for this.”
He leans his head back into his chair and laughs. “Darlin’, it ain’t like I’m almost dead and can’t keep my pecker hard.”
I take that as my cue to start licking his shaft. I am surprised at how hard he grows in my hand as I continue licking and then suck on the head. I hear his breathing becoming erratic so I slow it down. Don’t need him coming before Deacon does his job. I continue to lick and suck him slowly as his head is leaned back in the chair and his eyes are closed. I pray for Deacon to hurry the fuck up and get this over with.
I look over and see Deacon’s boots next to the chair. Fuck, he was sure quiet. I look up at Prez and he’s still in ecstasy over the blowjob. I nod my head and I hear the gun cock. As the sound fills the room, Prez opens his eyes and I continue sucking on him as Deacon places the gun in Prez’s face. I hear a loud boom go off. The song “45” by Shinedown turns on in my head for some reason. It’s almost as if we are playing out the song in real life as Prez looks down the barrel of the gun held by his closest friend and he knows it’s over for him.
I pull his dick out of my mouth and jump back just as Prez’s body slumps forward. It’s done; Prez is dead. I look up at Deacon and he’s smiling.
I jump up and pace the floor. “Now what?”
Deacon looks over at me and sneers. ”Shut the fuck up, Bambi. I don’t need your stupid ass freaking out on me. We are going to load his body up his truck and you will drive it up one of the switchbacks. I’ll follow on my bike and we’re going to dump the truck over a cliff and let it explode and burn the evidence of the murder.”
Fuck, I do not want to drive his truck with his dead body in it. ”Deacon, I don’t feel comfortable driving the truck.”
“Fine, I will drive his truck. You follow behind me in your car.” He says. We both nod in a silent acknowledgment and I walk towards my car.
Deacon leaves to pull Prez’s truck around back by the backdoor of the club. It’s a quicker route to load him up there and less visible to anyone passing by.
****
Ryder
I walk out from the stuffy ass dressing room they’ve kept me locked up in since we got here. I hear the crowd. I feel energized by it. I am ready for this fight.
I keep telling myself that a few more fights and the Russians will let me go home. I miss Faith so fucking much, but I can’t go there in my head right now. She’s gotta go away from my thoughts. I can’t risk losing this fight over thoughts of her.
I’m taped up, and I feel my body hopping all over the place. I am ready to meet this Ukrainian challenger. He’s nobody and this is his first fight in the States from what Uri told me earlier this morning during our training session. I think Uri is still pissed at me for kicking the shit out of him. I wanted to show the Russian prick that I could fight,
We walk out toward the crowd. I look over and spot Flem and some of the boys. Fat Boy is eying me like he wants me to read his fucking thoughts or some shit. I don’t care if they’re here or not. The fuckers walked away from me at the last fight. I ’m pissed at them.
I don’t acknowledge them. I keep my eyes straight ahead and that’s when I spot the asshole that I’m here to fight. He’s taller than me and he’s got some kind of a leather mask on over his head. What the fuck? I shake my head. What a strange costume. He’s also wearing a wife beater. I don’t wear anything except trunks to fight in. Clothing is too constricting. I’m ready to fight and go back to my prison. Let’s get this show on the road.
I make it to my corner in the circle of the cage. The crowd goes fucking nuts when they announce my name. I love the energy of all of it. It’s rather addictive. I could probably keep fighting for sport and perhaps make a little money at it. Most fighters are technical but I’m a street fighter. I never had any formal training in martial arts or kickboxing, but my legs and feet are quick. I can take an opponent down pretty damn fast to gain the advantage. In the past few fights I’ve done for the Russians, I was quick to take out my competition within the first round or two. Things have seemed to get a little better within my confines of my personal prison. I have a bed now, not just a cot, and a radio and the food has certainly improved since I’ve been training and fighting.
he ref calls us out the middle of the circle to go over the rules. I know this isn’t a sanctioned MMA fight so the rules are more lax in this ring. I walk up to the tall goof I’m about to fight and look him up and down. He seems so familiar, but I can’t put my finger on how or why.
As we reach the middle of the circle, I hear Godsmack’s “Cryin’ like a Bitch” playing.
“That’s gonna be your theme song after I beat the fuck out of you,” I tell him with a smile on my face. The ref runs down the basic rules of the fight, makes us hit knuckles, and sends us back to our corners to await the bell. I’m itching to get out there and get this fight over.
The bell rings and I head out to the middle of the ring. I realize this dude is technically trained. He’s going in with different holds and kicks and shit. I know he’s had martial arts training of some kind. I don’t know Tae Kwon Do from Jujitsu to save my fucking life. I fight on instinct.
I move towards him. He doesn’t see it coming. I take him down with a swift kick of my leg, and I get him into a headlock and pound my fist into his face. The fucker gets out the headlock and starts some kind of technical move but I manage to use my legs and sweep back to the ground but he’s back up on me.
I charge his ass, pin him up against the cage, and start pounding his ribs. He tries holding me off, but I am getting some fucking awesome hits in on his body. I know this fucker will go down soon, but unfortunately, the bell rings and ends the round. I got back to my corner to get some water and rinse my mouth out. I lift the water bottle, pour some water into my mouth, swish it, and fuck, it tastes like shit. I go ahead and drink some anyway. I am sweating so bad; I don’t want to dehydrate myself and pass out. I down about half the bottle and throw it aside.
I stand there staring at my opponent. I can’t put my finger on it, but I get the feeling that I know this fucker from somewhere. He seems too familiar to me. The bell rings once again. Time to get out there and take this buffoon down.
I meet him back in the middle of the ring, and I go straight for a take down. I kick his leg out from under him, but I’m beginning to feel odd. The fucker counteracts my move with a kick to my hip. It throws me back, and I lose my balance. I’m feeling so weird and
my reflexes are slowing down. What the hell?
I shake my head, trying to shake it off. What the fuck is wrong with me? The fuckhead clinches me and immobilizes my body and he starts slamming into my ribs with his fist. He slams me into the cage and holds me there, against it, locking me down. I try to block his fists but fuck, I can barely move. I feel like I’ve been drugged. He yells out something to me in fucking Russian. I know that voice. I recognize it, but who the fuck does it belong to?
I feel like I am fading fast. He’s hitting me in the head and on the face and all over my body, making his way down to my ribs and stomach. Fuck, it hurts like a motherfucker. The pain alone has me almost ready to pass out. Then he makes a mistake, he steps back and turns his back. I have to confirm my suspicions so I use the last of my strength and I rip the back of his wife beater and sure the fuck enough, I see the tattoo. I know who this motherfucker is. It’s fucking Rogue!
I can hear Flem yell out my name, and then Rogue’s name. Flem has seen the tat. I’m bobbing all over the place now. I know I am gonna pass out any second. I look at him through that ugly fucking mask. I see those eyes. I know those eyes. Those are Rogue’s eyes.
“Rogue, you cocksucking motherfucker. I will kill…” Everything fades to black.
****
Rogue
I walk to the side entrance of the tent and I’m introduced to the crowd. They boo me. Fuckers! If they only knew who they were really booing. I’m introduced as a Ukrainian newcomer, and I walk out holding my shoulders back and my head up. I look around the crowd and spot several of the club brothers in the front rows. I pray they don’t recognize me.
This leather mask is hot as fuck, but I clench my teeth, go to my corner and round my shoulders back and forth, and warm my muscles up by moving around. I’m very skilled in kickboxing. Muay Thai, Tae Kwan Do, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu martial arts. I started when I was ten. My uncle and my father felt it was a necessary skill for me to have, considering the family business.
Next, Ryder is introduced and the fucking crowd goes crazy over him. It’s almost like it was for me back when I fought fulltime. I lived for the sound of the crowd cheering me on and the feel of the hits that I took from an opponent. It gave me a high.
I can’t believe that in the short time that Ryder has been fighting he’s developed quite a following. I will be the one walking away the winner today and Ryder will be dead.
He struts down to the circle like a cocky ass motherfucker. I can’t stand the look of him.
I wait in my corner as the ref calls us out to the middle. We are fighting bare knuckled with just a little tape around our hands. I hope to rip his fucking head off and shit down his throat. I will let him do most of the work to wear him down.
He seems rather jumpy and on edge so I need to wear him down. I’m quite adept at grappling and striking my opponents and can use this to my advantage with my height and longer reach. This fight is vale-tudo-style bout, which means the rules are basic and more relaxed than in a sanctioned MMA fight.
Ryder looks me up and down and I wonder if he’s trying to place me from somewhere.
“You hear that?” I listen a little bit harder to see what the fuck Ryder is pulling and I hear Godsmack. “Yeah, that’s gonna be your theme song after I beat the fuck out of you.” I just laugh to myself because I know better.
The ref runs down the basic rules of the fight. He tells us to knock hands and come out fighting fair when the bell rings. We both head back to our corners. Ryder is jumping all over the fucking place and moving like he’s the next Sugar Ray Leonard or some shit. I’m relaxed and my mind is clear from all negativity.
The bell rings and we meet in the middle of the circle. I go in for the sprawl-and-drawl style hoping to use my height to my advantage. I forget to keep an eye on Ryder’s feet and the fucker has me down on the mat quick. I try to counteract his foot with a sprawl move, but he takes me down. He came at me so fucking fast, I almost didn’t believe it was real. I think and try to remember my submission wrestling training to gain the upper hand on him.
He’s fucking fast and pounding on my face. He’s fighting with no particular formal style; it’s more like street brawling to him. I manage to slip from his headlock and decide to move into a ground and pound technique. I need to get in a throw down on him. I need to tire him out some and clinching him on a takedown will lock his body in place enough to neutralize him for me to be able to wail on him in a ground and pound move.
Ryder uses his fucking legs and feet to try to sweep me down on the mat, and I jump back away from him. He charges me like a fucking maniac and has me pushed up on the cage. He starts punching me in the ribs and I hold him off in a defensive move and try to move out of his hold. He’s quicker than I thought he would be and he’s got a powerful punch.
He’s gaining power over me, and I feel myself starting to slip out the zone I usually place myself in while fighting. Luckily, for me, the bell rings and we both stumble back to our corners for a quick look over by trainers and a water break. I know Ryder will be slowing down in the next round, thanks to his drugged water bottle.
I watch as he reaches for his bottle, and he drinks the water but spits it out. Fuck! He lifts the bottle again and this time he drinks about half of the bottle down. That should be plenty to affect him enough to take him down and kick the shit out of him. I drink some water, and have my trainer double check my tape before the bell rings again.
After another minute, the bell rings. I look up and see Ryder staring at me. I know he’s trying to place me from somewhere; he just hasn’t figured it out yet. We meet back in the middle of the circle and Ryder goes straight for a take down with his leg, but I counter it with a kick with my right leg to his hip. He flies back but keeps his balance on his feet. I see him shaking his head a little and I know the drugs are starting to work. His reflexes seem a little slower and he’s not as jumpy as he was during the first round.
I get up on him, put him in a clinch hold, and immobilize him as I pound his ribs with my right hand. I slowly move us towards the side of the cage and I hold his body up against it and I wail on his face with my fists. He’s starting to fade, and can barely hold his hands up to block my blows.
I yell at him through my mask, “Na kaleni suka.” On your knees, bitch.
He doesn’t move but I know he recognizes my voice now. I wail on his head, his face, and then I move down to his ribs and his abdomen. I unleash my hatred for him and his head goes back but he is not out yet. I turn and step back to assess his condition but, before I can turn back to face him, he pulls the back of my shirt hard and it tears down the middle. I am exposed.
I turn and I hear some of the brothers yelling and I hear my name. I look at Ryder as he’s bobbing and weaving all over the mat. He looks up at me. “Rogue, you cocksucking motherfucker. I will kill…”
Ryder’s eyes close and he goes down on the mat; he’s out. I manage to get in several kicks to his head and his ribs while he is out cold.
I look around and several of the brothers are in the circle inside of the cage with me. I see Flem, Fat Boy, Marko, and Chaz.
I tear off the mask. “You want some of me, you dumb motherfuckers? Come and get me, you cocksuckers, ee-dee nah hooy.”
Marko and Chaz move to my right and Fat Boy moves to my left. I look over at Flem. He has fire in his eyes.
“Why Rogue? Why would you fuckin’ betray your brothers, you piece of shit? Why the fuck are you fighting Ryder like this?”
I look over at Ryder. I see a few prospects pulling him out of the circle, and my uncle’s men are walking toward them. I nod at them to stop. They stop and look on at the scene unfolding in the circle between my brothers and me. I know my time here is done soon. There is no turning back from what has taken place here in the ring and back at the club.
I look over at Flem. “You wouldn’t understand. I have been in this fucker’s shadow for too long. He stole Bambi from me; he was gifted the VP position when I was the o
ne that worked my ass off for his father all those years. I should have been gifted the VP position, not this fucktard. I killed Pops. Did you know that? I put a bullet in that son-of-a-bitch’s head because he told me when he died, Ryder would take his place in the club. Me, I was the one who did the killings, and set up the drug runs for this club. My fucking connections made that bastard rich along, with Prez and all you other fucks. It was my turn to run this club now. I paid my dues, brother. More than you will ever know.” I spit the word brother out with disgust.
Flem makes his move. In slow motion, I see him reach behind his cut, and I see the metal flash of his piece. I know this is it. I know my life is about to end. My mind wanders to Bambi. I wonder if she’ll miss me, and I wonder if she enjoyed being with me more than she ever did with Ryder. I know I took her places I doubt she’d ever been with any man.
I wonder how my uncle with carry on without me. He has been like a second father to me. I wonder how it is going to feel to just fade out and die.
I hear the click of his gun as he cocks it. “Flem, just do it. Just kill me. If you don’t, I will kill you myself, brother. Let me die with honor. Just fucking do it.”
Flem takes a breath. “Goodbye, you cocksucking crazy ass motherfucking Russian piece of shit!”
I hear the bullet leaving the gun before I feel it. I feel a sharp pain hit my head, and then it all fades to black.
Chapter 12 -
Bambi
I’m still in Prez’s office, waiting on Deacon to get his ass back here with the truck. We have to get his body the fuck out of here and this office cleaned up before they guys get back.
Ryder's Last Run (Dueling Dragons MC Series) Page 13
