The Biker's Virgin: A Brass Bonds MC Romance

by A. J. Wynter

  “Where’s Georgie?”

  “Off today. What’s the matter? We’re not pretty enough?”

  Jasper laughed then turned again to face the bars as they opened. The guard took one of his arms while the other guard took the other. Together, they escorted Jasper Connor out of his jail cell. A few of the inmates catcalled as Jasper was escorted off the block and toward transportation holding. There was a cell there where he would wait while they processed his transport paperwork.

  A female CO looked over the documents, “And the warden signed off on this? This guy is going to get the chair, like any day now.” She looked from the papers she was examining up to the lead guard that removed Jasper from his cell.

  “What do you want me to tell you? They got better chairs up in Baker's County.” He pointed to the warden’s signature twice and smirked at her. “Now, can we get on with it? This rain is going to make the roads shit and I want to get moving.”

  The female CO sighed and signed reluctantly. Something seemed fishy to her, but she couldn’t deny the signatures were right there. “Fine, but he better be checked into Baker's within 6 hours or it’s your ass. No funny business.”

  The guard smirked as he took his copy of the transport papers, “What could go wrong in 6 hours?” Turning to the other guard, he winked, “Let’s roll.”

  They removed Jasper and headed toward a prison van that they stuffed him into. Two other guards that had been waiting by the van got in and sat on either side of Jasper. The two guards that removed him from the cell took the driver’s seat and the passenger seat. The driver turned and smiled to Jasper, “Fasten your seatbelts. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

  ***

  The burner phone buzzed in Georgie’s hand. It shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did, and he nearly dropped it. The phone bounced from hand to hand, like a slippery fish trying to free himself from a fisherman’s grasp. He finally he got a hold of it and answered it. “Yeah. Talk to me.” He sounded remarkably cool for someone who could barely hold the phone a moment ago.

  The voice on the other end of the phone confirmed what Georgie was waiting for, Jasper was on the move. It wouldn’t be long now. He hung up fast, and then dialed another number quickly. “Yeah, they just left. Get rolling. You got about two hours before they are in position.”

  Georgie fist pumped the air. So far so good. They just needed to get past the next two hours and Jasper would be home free, at least to accomplish the next phase. If all went well, Jasper would be taking down Whitey in the next 48 hours, and then Georgie was going to do everything he could to help Jasper get out of the country. In the very worst case scenario, Jasper would die. Whether it would be by chair or Whitey, Jasper was set to die, and as cold-hearted as it seemed, Georgie wasn’t worried about that part. If it was supposed to happen, it would, but he damn well had every intention of helping Jasper live.

  ***

  “What do you mean they moved my client? To where? And why wasn’t I notified immediately?” Darla was speaking into her office phone with an exasperated tone. “You have got to be kidding me. No, this is not acceptable. I want to know where my client is right now, and I want to know who authorized the transfer.” She waited a few moments while the voice on the other end of the phone tried to explain the transfer, but Darla was growing impatient by the millisecond, and the voice on the other end of the phone clearly belonged to a moron. “Get me the warden, now. Tell him Darla Lovell is about to eat his soul for lunch.”

  Her phone beeped. Her assistant was trying to buzz in. Darla frowned, “She knows I’m on the phone. Idiot.” She muttered to herself, shook her head, and ignored the intercom buzz. Impatiently, she looked at her watch. “This bitch has me on hold 3 minutes already.” By bitch she meant the warden. A moment later, her assistant barged into the office.

  Placing her hand over the receiver, Darla glared at the assistant, “You can see I’m on the phone, can’t you? You do have two eyes? 20/20 vision, yes?”

  A nervous noise escaped from the girl, not unlike a squeak. She wasn’t Darla’s executive assistant. This assistant was specifically in charge of the phone and right now, she was in Darla’s eyes, fired. “What is it? What do you want?” She slammed the phone down, as now Darla refused to wait a second more for the warden to wake up and get on the phone. Her anger was also multiplying.

  “I’m so sorry to disturb your call, Ms. Lovell.” The girl was stammering as she tried to get the words out, “Bu-but there’s a Lauren Holden on the phone for you. She said you are going to want to speak to her regarding Whitey Smith and Lucas Jackson. She said something about needing to show you something important.”

  The girl stood quietly now waiting for Darla’s response. She was standing with half her body in the room and the other half outside of it, the wood door resting down the center of her body.

  For a moment, Darla imagined slamming the door so hard that it would cut the girl in half lengthwise. Her long red nails drummed the desk slowly.

  “I’ll take the call. Put it through.” Darla waited for the girl to leave and her top phone line to start blinking. As she took a seat, she stared at the steady flash of light.

  “Yes, Ms. Holden. I see you feel the need to waste my time now that you’ve abandoned your job. Such a shame. You had promise!” Darla’s voice was both sweet, yet cutting. This was a special kind of sarcasm that could only be mastered by the supremely devious of minds and Disney villains.

  To Darla’s horror, Lauren didn’t speak into the phone. Instead she heard Whitey’s voice. Actually, it was Whitey and another man talking.

  “Is it all here?”

  “Yes, Whitey. I counted it myself. You want to sit here and count it?”

  “Nah, I know you’re good for it. Plus, I know where you live. If there’s a dime missing, I’ll just come cut you up into little pieces and bury you behind the bar.”

  “Whitey, I need the deeds. Did you bring them?”

  “Nah, I’ll have one of the guys run them over tomorrow. You know I’m good for it. I’m living right on the land, Lucas.”

  “Yeah, but Whitey, I need the deed. I can’t give you the money with no deed. My client will … well, he’ll kill me.”

  “You’re already dead. You know that.” Whitey laughed hard. He laughed as if he just told the best joke ever. “Ok, calm down, calm down. I’m just kidding. I’m going to take this money and tomorrow you’ll have the deed. I promise. Cross my heart. You just tell your client that we didn’t make the exchange yet. I’ll back you up.”

  “Whitey, no. I can’t give you this money without the deed. That’s the deal, and I’m supposed to bring him the deed tonight, once I have it. You were supposed to bring the deed!” Now the other voice was escalating, “I did my part! Where’s the fucking deed, Whitey?”

  Darla’s mouth dropped open and Lauren spoke now, “Your boyfriend’s going down, Darla. And that’s only a small sampling of what’s on this footage, which by the way, is NOT just audio! I’ve got video, complete with Whitey taking a briefcase of two million dollars in cold hard cash from Lucas Jackson two days before Lucas died. Want the whole thing? Get Jasper out of fucking jail now!”

  The line went dead.

  CHAPTER 27

  The rain was letting up now. The prison transport caravan had been driving along now for about an hour and a half. For the most part, the drive was quiet. The guards talked amongst themselves about which girls they were fucking on the side, while the one guy in the group said they should be loyal to their wives or girlfriends, like he was. That was Paulson. He was young, only about 25. He was eager to make a career, marry his high school sweetheart, have her pop out a few kids, and do his forty years on the job so he could retire. He had it all planned out.

  The other guard scoffed. The lead CO, aka the driver, laughed the hardest, “Young and dumb. You’ll learn kid. You’ll learn soon enough.” The driver, Briggs, looked in his rearview mirror and directly into Jasper’s waiting eyes. “So, Connor. Y
ou got a girl that’s gonna miss you when you’re gone?” Briggs held Jasper’s stare as he waited the response.

  The bus went quiet, with just the sound of the steady rhythm of the windshield wipers. Jasper shook his head. No way he was giving Briggs any details about his life. Jasper knew assholes like Briggs. Briggs was the kind of guy that probably went and fucked the women that were lonely while their men were away doing time. The shame of it is that their men probably told Briggs all about the women they loved back home. Briggs was a special kind of hunter, and Jasper could smell the stink of him from a mile away.

  “Nope. I don’t have a girl, or a dog. Left all that love behind once I got locked up.” Jasper was still looking at Briggs through the mirror. The rain had settled into a light drizzle.

  “Well, everyone needs someone, Jas – even up until the end.” This was Paulson, the romantic, speaking.

  As if on cue, they heard the throaty roar of the bikes. Briggs checked his mirrors as the other guards looked back behind them, “Shit. These friends of yours, Jasper?”

  Jasper turned his head back to look. They were Brass Bonds, and shit was about to go down. Only problem is, Jasper didn’t know who was in on it, and who wasn’t. Georgie didn’t give him all the details. All Georgie said was, “Be ready. It’s happening during the transport. Get out of the van, and get off the main road. There’s a side road with a bike hidden. Get on it, and ride off as fast as you can.” There was only one problem. Jasper’s hands were still cuffed in front of him.

  Jasper looked back into the review mirror. Briggs was looking directly at him, then shifted his eyes toward Paulson and nodded. Then he blinked slowly and deliberately, twice.

  Two minutes, and it was about to go down. Great. Now Jasper knew Briggs was in on it. Briggs was probably the one asshole he wished wasn’t involved, but beggars couldn’t be choosers during an escape attempt.

  Only four bikers approached the van. One held back, while two positioned themselves to the side of the van, and one cut the van off. Briggs probably could have run any one of them off the road, but he chose to just slow the van to a stop. As he slowed, Paulson opened his mouth, “Hey … wait, what … “

  BAM! Jasper head butt Paulson at the bridge of his nose. Blood pooled out of his nostrils, and he fell back against the seat. In an instant, the three other guards were on their feet and pulling Jasper from the van.

  As the van slowed, the bikers had stopped the bikes short, leaving marks on the road. Then they all got off their bikes and headed toward Briggs, who was holding Jasper by the arm.

  “You know … this guy is worth some money to Whitey. Maybe I should just take him right to him, since that’s where he’s headed anyway.” Briggs pulled his gun faster than anyone could realize, spun, and shot Paulson right in the head as he was struggling to get out of the van. Paulson dropped dead on the spot.

  “Holy shit!” Jasper couldn’t believe his eyes. No one should have gotten killed. All they needed to do was get roughed up a bit, and set him free. With a quick jerk, Jasper pulled away from Briggs and ran over to Paulson to grab his keys, gun, and anything else useful. Briggs was pre-occupied with shooting the bikers as they scrambled, and turned to skid away, leaving the perfect getaway tracks. The passenger guard, CO Clark, pulled his gun and shot at them. Together they killed three out of four bikers. One managed to get away.

  “Sonofabitch Briggs, I told you to wait! Now look at what you did.” Clark screamed at Briggs.

  The two of them turned to face the remaining guard. It was the quiet old timer, Monroe. Poor bastard.

  “Dammit. You know you should have retired like a year ago, right? Now you’re gonna die on this dirt road, you old stupid fuck.” Briggs said.

  Monroe was standing there, gun pointed out between Briggs and Clark. His eyes were wide with shock. His tired old arms (that no doubt had arthritis) trembled as he pointed the gun. Clark was right. Monroe should have retired, and he would have never been there. He could have been home with his wife and dog, half asleep on the couch.

  “Dr … drop your weapons.” His old voice croaked.

  Clark smirked and looked at Briggs. Briggs looked at Clark and shrugged. They both lifted their guns and pointed them at Monroe.

  “Don’t shoot him!” Jasper came from around the van with Paulson’s gun in hand. “Lower your weapons. Do not shoot the old man. That’s not part of the plan.” Slowly, Jasper moved to get a better shot of both Briggs and Clark. Statistically, he wasn’t going to be able to shoot both, but as Jasper understood it – no one should be shooting at him.

  Briggs laughed. “Don’t shoot the old man? Jasper, are you nuts? Don’t you understand what this is? Bad enough we got a runaway biker.”

  Clark laughed too, “Don’t worry about him. Whitey will kill him once he goes running back to the bar.”

  Jasper laughed now, “Oh yeah? You guys know those weren’t Whitey’s guys right? Whitey’s guys never would have fled like that.” He pointed the gun at Clark. Clark was the better shot.

  “Jasper, we’re getting paid to get you out. But we’ll get paid if we bring you in to Whitey, dead or alive.”

  While he didn’t show it, Jasper was confused. Georgie put this plan in motion. Did Georgie just sell Jasper out to a couple of thugs that were actually working for Whitey?

  “Guys, I just want to get out of here and do what I gotta do. Let me take the old man with me as a hostage. This way it looks better. You two can head back. Tell them what happened.” Jasper kept his arm pointed at Clark, but glanced quickly between the two men.

  “Hell. You really are confused, aren’t you? You being locked up in that cell make you stupid, Jasper?” Then Clark looked to Briggs, “What do you think? Should we tell him? We should tell him, right?”

  Briggs was nodding and grinning eagerly, “Oh, you tell it. You’re so good at breaking bad news.” Briggs bounced happily on his toes, and Monroe shook as he pointed his gun at him.

  “Ok, so here’s the story, Jasper. Whitey’s expecting us to bring you in. We’re not officers, we just play them on TV, see?” Briggs was nodding in agreement. Clark took his hat off and tossed it near the van, but continued, “You’re right. Those bikers were not Whitey’s guys. He said you’d be smart as a whip. That one that got away, well, we’ll have to find him when we’re done here and take care of that loose end. But your friend, Georgie, now that’s a smart guy.”

  Clark lowered his gun. As far as he was concerned, Jasper wasn’t going to shoot him, and Monroe had no shot of hitting a moving target. “Georgie wanted this to look like the Brass Bonds came and got you. That way, the cops would go sniffing around Whitey and blame him for this …” Clark looked around, then grinned proudly, “…massacre. Hot damn, I’m a good shot!”

  Briggs nodded and smiled to Clark, as Clark continued, “One problem. We got a better deal from Whitey. So …” He paused again for dramatic effect, and Briggs steadied himself and pointed the gun at Monroe, “… After I kill this old bastard here, Briggs and I are going to either kill you and bring you back dead, or you can play nice, and we’ll bring you back alive. Now, if I’m a betting man, you’ll opt to go back alive. So, which is it … dead or …”

  BANG! Before Clark could finish his sentence, Monroe shot at Briggs. He shot him in the face, but the bullet tore through Briggs’ cheek instead of killing him. Briggs turned to shoot Monroe, but Jasper was faster. Jasper’s piece rang out, and the bullet hit Clark in the neck, the blood pumping fast like a fountain. Just after Jasper shot at Clark, he spun fast and shot Briggs in the chest three times. Briggs stumbled backward and hit the ground. He lay there, gasping and wheezing for breath, until he faded away.

  Clark was bleeding out. His eyes were still open and dimming, but he was still lingering. Jasper ran over and kicked his gun away, then stood over Clark.

  “Hot damn. Guess I’m a pretty good shot, too.” Clark grinned and nodded weakly, his teeth covered in blood that was now spurting up from his mouth.

&nb
sp; Jasper walked away from him and headed toward Briggs, who appeared to be dead. Kicking his gun away as well, Jasper glanced at Monroe. “Old man, you dead?”

  Monroe weakly held up his left hand. Jasper caught sight of the wedding ring on his finger and frowned. “Shit.” He made his way to Monroe and grabbed his radio. He stuffed it into Monroe’s hand and put his finger on the button. But that was it, he didn’t stick around to see if Monroe got help. Jasper stuck to the plan and headed down the dirt road, toward the bike that should be there, waiting for him.

  CHAPTER 28

  KY looked up as the blonde walked toward him. He was sitting on the porch of the Brass Monkey bar. He jumped up and smiled his best, charming smile, complete with missing teeth.

  “Hello, Ms. Lovell. What brings you here to this lovely establishment?” he said, while trying to take her arm, like a gentleman.

  She pulled it away, angrily, “Don’t touch me. Where’s Whitey?”

  KY pulled his hands back, holding them high to show her he meant no harm. “He’s inside, Ma’am. I’ll escort you inside.” He stepped in front of her to try and slow her pace, but Darla was pissed, and walking fast and with purpose, even though her shoes were being destroyed by the parking lot’s gravel.

  “No need. I know exactly where I’m going.” She pushed KY out of the way with a stiff arm and stormed into the bar. She ignored all of the other bikers in her path and went directly back to the back office. She placed both hands on the heavy wooden doors and shoved them open.

  Whitey was at the head of the table having a meeting with several other bikers. All of the eyes in the room turned to stare her down. The infallible Darla did not flinch or move. She stared back, her hands on her hips, clearly illustrating that she wasn’t leaving anytime soon, nor was she sorry for interrupting. Her eyes burned flames at Whitey, and her nostrils were flaring.