Twisted Pieces

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Twisted Pieces Page 2

by London Casey


  That was the power of the MC. Everything was always part of another plan. What Jace didn’t quite understand was why he had been forced to sit in prison for weeks. And the only answer he got from the lawyer was that they were working on it. That the evidence was looking pretty serious. At the last meeting his lawyer had the balls to suggest that maybe Jace was safer in prison, and that he should just let time work things out.

  But that’s not what Jace did.

  He didn’t wait around and just let time work things out. That was the shit pussies did. Jace wasn’t a pussy. He liked pussy. Speaking of which, going two months without it felt like years.

  Jace opened his eyes and closed his hand on the leather cut. He lifted it. Looking around the room, Jace knew if anyone was in there or was out there somehow watching him, he was going to look like the biggest pussy ever.

  Jace hugged the leather cut. He smelled it. He let out a sigh of relief. Then, right there in the middle of the room, Jace stripped butt ass naked. He left the orange clothes on the floor. He stepped back and gripped himself. With a huge grin on his face, Jace started to piss on the clothes he had worn for weeks.

  Once he finished, Jace properly dressed himself in what he was meant to wear and then walked to the door and knocked on it. It opened a few seconds later. A guard stood there and his nose started wiggling.

  “Smells like piss.”

  Jace laughed. “Sorry. Had a little accident.”

  “Oh, fuck, man,” the guard said.

  Jace threw his right shoulder into the guard and sent him stumbling back. Jace walked down a narrow hall and saw the door to freedom. He kicked it open and walked down a sidewalk that was lined with barbed wire fences on either side. None of that mattered to Jace though. His focus was forward and what waited at the end of the sidewalk.

  Already clapping and cheering were Miller, Gaige, Griffin, Landon, and Blaine. The only guys missing from the main table were Nate and Shay. Jace’s eyes first went to Gaige. The VP of Back Down Devil wasn’t the greatest guy in Jace’s book. Their history wasn't great either, especially since Jace recently took a beating to protect Gaige's girl, Emily. Businessman slash asshole, Robert Strokner, had been poking around the MC since his daughter, Emily's best friend, was killed while in the care of Back Down Devil. So Gaige made a peace offering by killing the man who killed Strokner’s daughter and then sent Strokner the man's eyeballs. It was a mistake, because it gave Strokner a false sense of power and now he was stirring up all sorts of danger.

  Fucking Gaige.

  Jace approached the crew and when Miller opened his arms for a hug, Jace froze. He put his hands out and shook his head.

  “What the fuck took so long?” he asked.

  Miller nodded and put his arms down. He slipped his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. “I guess that’s a fair question. I mean, you were taken away out of nowhere. Transferred to this hellhole. Then left.”

  “Left?” Jace asked. “I fucking fought every day. To only have the same amount of questions as the day before. And the fucking lawyer told me nothing.”

  “Because that’s all we have,” Miller said. “Nothing. And with nothing…”

  “Don’t give me the pep talk. Where’s my ride?”

  Gaige and Griffin stepped aside and pointed.

  There she was.

  Beautifully mixed with black and chrome, the motorcycle was pretty enough to almost get Jace hard.

  He slowly walked forward, eyes on the ride. He touched the seat and swallowed. He reached for the handlebars and felt relief flow through him.

  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  “Hey, bro, let me ask you something,” Blaine said as he approached.

  “Blaine,” Jace said. “You still look like the same mess of hell."

  “He’s only showered once in the meantime,” Miller said.

  Blaine smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I like a good layer of pussy all over me. Keeps me fresh. And it drives women wild. They can try and be tough all the want, but they get jealous. Crazy fucking jealous.”

  “What’s your question, Blaine?” Jace asked.

  Jace was already feeling annoyed. He had the slight sting of betrayal in his heart and wasn’t sure if that was right or not. More than anything else he wanted to get on his motorcycle and ride the open road. Feel the power of the ride. Hear its thundering cry. Feel the wind beating against his face. And know he was speeding the fuck away from this damn prison.

  “My question… I mean, you’re in there, right? There’s no women. What do you…”

  Jace curled his lip. “That’s what you wanted to ask me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe I used my hand,” Jace said.

  “That’s all? Fuck. I mean, you could have ripped a hole in your pillow or something. Or the mattress. Oh, man, check it out. Roll up a blanket and squeeze it real tight around the head of your cock… right?”

  “Jesus,” Miller said.

  “Blaine,” Landon said. “Get on your bike. And don’t talk.”

  “What? I’m just curious. I mean, what if we all end up in there at some point? What do we do? I can’t survive without pussy, man.”

  “I did,” Jace growled. “For months. So let it go.”

  “Not anymore though,” Blaine said with a grin. “I’m going to take care of that, Jace. I have it all worked out for you man. Just get to the clubhouse.”

  “I want to know what’s going on first,” Jace said. “I want a table meeting.” Jace looked back at Miller. “Right now.”

  “Jace,” Gaige said. “Take it easy, bro…”

  “If someone tells me to calm down or take it easy one more time, I’m going to fucking kill whoever it is.”

  “Gaige,” Miller said. “Lead the way back. Jace and I will catch up soon.”

  “You sure?” Gaige asked. “Two isn’t safe.”

  “Not safe?” Jace asked. “I thought this shit was done? I that it was over when Shay’s brother was taken down.”

  “Go,” Miller said to Gaige with a head nod.

  Gaige gave the orders and soon there were motorcycles rumbling to life. Jace turned and crossed his arms, looking at the President of Back Down Devil MC.

  “You know, it’s easier now to just fucking give me a hug, man,” Miller said.

  Miller approached Jace and stood there. Jace finally opened his arms and hugged Miller.

  “You did good,” Miller said. “Keeping cool in there. Earning respect. I’m sorry for what you had to go through and what you had to see.”

  Miller backed up.

  “What was the shit with Paul?” Jace asked. “Why didn’t you ask me to do it?”

  “You saw the bullshit,” Miller said. “We had someone recruit that other guy.”

  “Nicky?”

  “Yeah. Fuck that guy. Fuck Nicky. Piece of shit."

  “I don’t understand it,” Jace said.

  “I know you don’t. We’ll get it all sorted out soon. I promise. The shit with Shay and his brother, that’s all dead. But now we have eyes everywhere, Jace. Keeping tabs on Strokner. And then there’s the judge who fucked around with you getting released.”

  “That’s what did this?”

  Miller nodded. “Yeah. Bound by the goddamn law. It pained me each day and night you weren’t at the table. It doesn't feel right to have that chair empty. I hate that fucking feeling.”

  “Yeah, I had a few feelings I hated too.”

  “Look, Jace, we’re working on this. But there’s an accusation out there that could destroy this club if it isn't handled properly. If things push forward and the wrong people start digging in the right places…” Miller pointed back to the prison. “We’ll all be sharing life sentences there.”

  “Yeah, I get it. What’s the evidence?”

  “Alleged photos,” Miller said. “I think it’s bullshit, but someone is really pushing for it to hold up. Just to fuck with us.”

  “Strokner?”

  “Maybe,”
Miller said. “Maybe it’s something Caius called in before we got to him. Shay’s brother was smart enough to have contingencies in place. I don’t know. You’re out now. You can ride. We still have a lot to deal with, but it’ll work out. Goddamn, I hate saying this, Jace, but Strokner has helped us. His shitty connections sometimes work out.”

  “I hate that fucking guy.”

  “I know. We all do. He’s got himself a new assistant too. Some pretty little thing. Poor woman has no idea what she’s doing getting involved with him. I can only hope she isn’t fucking him.”

  “I don’t care,” Jace said. “I just to know I'm not going back to prison and I want to ride.”

  “You are out right now,” Miller said. “And your two wheels are waiting.”

  “How the hell did you get it here?”

  Miller smiled. “Prospects. Made one ride up on it. The other guy rode some used thing we had lying around. They’re on the damn bike together right now, puttering back into Frelen.”

  Jace tried to picture it and for the first time in a while, he laughed. It felt okay to laugh. Not good, not great. Just okay.

  It was certainly better than getting jumped or stabbed.

  Miller walked to his motorcycle and climbed on it. He started the beast of a machine and it roared to life. Jace threw a leg over his motorcycle and smiled. He started the ride and it roared louder than Miller’s did.

  Jace took one last long look at the prison. He had killed people, sure. He had hurt a lot more people, yes. But he didn’t deserve to be in prison. In his heart and soul, he knew justice was served each time he took out a piece of shit dealer or rival club member. Maybe not the kind of justice the courts approved of, but it was the kind of justice that was both feared and respected by all men.

  Miller throttled his motorcycle and it snapped Jace out of his trance. He looked at Miller and gave a nod.

  A minute or so later, Jace had the freedom of the road and the air on his face.

  It may have felt okay to laugh, but it felt fucking great to be alive.

  three.

  Jordyn told people that she took the job because it was her dream job. In reality, it was the job that took her. There had been no way in hell she could have landed a paid position working for Mr. Strokner. At least, not working for him directly. Some other people had been lucky enough just to snag an internship. To work on the first or second floor of one of his offices, running coffee around in the morning, lunch in the afternoon, and then mail carts later on. The really lucky ones were allowed to stay after hours to help some of the higher ups choose a tie for a business meeting. Some even had a chance to sleep with the higher ups, but they all learned that fucking the way to the top of Mr. Strokner’s company only mattered if you were fucking Mr. Strokner.

  As Jordyn stood in the bathroom, her hands were shaking. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was let down just like Mr. Strokner asked her to do during the interview. He circled Jordyn and his desk about a dozen times. Passing her by, speaking so highly of her resume and her education. How impressive her business school grades were even though she came from a poor family neighborhood. Jordyn explained how the death of her parents when she was a teenager fueled her to work hard to earn scholarships so that her grandmother, sweet Jane, wouldn't have to worry about money. She raised Jordyn the best she could and then it was all up to Jordyn to succeed.

  Then something happened.

  Mr. Strokner started to talk about his daughter. Jordyn had heard rumors about Mr. Strokner’s daughter. Mostly about how she had been a spoiled bitch, but also about how she snuck out one night and was shot to death at a fight club type event. It intrigued Jordyn that some little rich girl would be involved with bikers.

  None of that was brought up during the interview, of course. Instead, Mr. Strokner made a couple passing comments about how Jordyn reminded him of his daughter. Rachel. That was his daughter’s name.

  Mr. Strokner then touched Jordyn’s hair. Once. Twice. The third time, he stopped behind her. His fingertips were in her hair.

  “You should let your hair down. Be comfortable around me. Don’t be afraid of me.”

  And when she did, she swore she felt Mr. Strokner bend over and sniff her hair. It bothered her, but it would bother her more if she were to go home and tell her grandmother that she hadn’t gotten the job.

  Jordyn gripped the bathroom sink and let out a shaky breath.

  She knew what she needed to do. It had been a request from Mr. Strokner. Just like the many others. This one was all about Jordyn though. In the beginning, when Mr. Strokner joked about touching or about her touching him, Jordyn laughed and played it off as banter. But then she was told to touch him. She was told to place her hand against him. So she did. She was then told to rub. So she did. Mr. Strokner even put his hand to hers and showed her the speed he liked. In fact, it was the speed he liked so much that he came just a few seconds later.

  Jordyn didn’t know what happened to Mr. Strokner’s pants but she heard they were given to another intern to take to get cleaned.

  That’s when Jordyn knew her job wasn’t going to be normal. And as wrong as it was, and as disappointed in her as her parents and grandmother would probably be, the job came with a sizeable paycheck that was desperately needed. And so far, things hadn’t gotten too far out of control. So… no harm… no foul.

  Until now.

  Jordyn had received a text from a number that she knew would never be able to be traced. She knew it was Mr. Strokner because of the way the text was written. It was obvious and it bothered the hell out of her.

  Glancing at her cell phone, Jordyn saw she had only two more minutes until she was expected to be in Mr. Strokner’s office. She pushed away from the sink and lifted her skirt. Her hands went up her hooked around the edges of her panties. She wiggled her hips, sliding them down her legs. All of this she watched in the mirror as though it were some kind of dream. But this was not dreamed at all. This was reality. A sad reality. The kind they don’t teach.

  Jordyn held her panties and stared at them. She dropped them in the trashcan and, with no panties on like Mr. Strokner had ordered, Jordyn walked to his office and knocked on the door.

  “Mr. Strokner?” she asked, poking her head in.

  Please be busy. Please send me home. Please tell me we can do this some other…

  “Perfect timing,” Mr. Strokner said. He was leaning against his desk. “Come in, Jordyn. Please. Shut the door. Lock it.”

  Jordyn swallowed hard and did as told. Before she turned back around, she took a deep breath. She spun around and her hips swayed back and forth as she strutted toward Mr. Strokner. She would have felt more comfortable with a thousand eyes on her right now, knowing she had no panties on under her skirt, than she felt seeing the way Mr. Strokner looked at her right now.

  She was scared now. Really scared.

  “Come here,” Mr. Strokner said.

  Jordyn stopped at the chairs in front of him. She was damn sure going to send signals that this wasn’t okay with her.

  “Have you completed everything?” Mr. Strokner asked.

  “Yes. I delivered those two contracts. I pulled the files for tomorrow’s meeting.”

  “And?” Mr. Strokner’s laugh was ugly.

  “I… yes…”

  “That wasn't convincing.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jordyn said.

  “I need to see. You understand, right? I don't take lying very well.”

  Jordyn stood motionless.

  To see.

  There was only one way to see.

  Jordyn curled her fingers around her skirt and lifted it. She stared at Mr. Strokner and watched his eyes widen. When she was exposed to him, he pushed from his desk. He approached and Jordyn looked at his hands. She wondered which one - if not both - were going to touch her.

  “So soft,” Mr. Strokner whispered. “Shaved. Clean. Fresh.” Mr. Strokner looked into Jordyn’s eyes now. “I knew you were perfect from the secon
d I saw you, Jordyn. I just… knew…”

  Mr. Strokner smiled and Jordyn knew he was going to touch her. She broke the stare and noticed something on his desk. It was a folder with a paperclip on it. The paperclip held a picture to the folder.

  “What is that?” Jordyn asked.

  The move was risky, but it paid off. Mr. Strokner looked back and then turned. “The folder?”

  “Yes. Is that part of tomorrow’s meetings? Should I have…”

  “Oh, no,” Mr. Strokner said. “That’s a fun side project of mine. You ever hear of Back Down Devil?”

  “Maybe.”

  “They’re good friends of mine,” Mr. Strokner said.

  He then started to walk around his desk. Jordyn opened her hands and let her skirt fall. She was at least covered again. There was still a sliver of dignity to be had here.

  Mr. Strokner put his hand to the folder. “One of the guys was in prison for murder.”

  “Murder? Seriously?”

  “Murder,” Mr. Strokner said. “This is a folder I have on him. Just information I like to keep. You know, friends, enemies, business opportunities. I’m an obsessive kind of man, Jordyn. I’ve lost my wife and my daughter. I have everything in the world, but nothing inside my heart. It’s a horrible feeling. A horrible way to live. So I keep the memories alive in my own way.”

  “May I see the folder?” Jordyn asked.

  “You can see,” Mr. Strokner said. “But you can’t look inside.”

  Mr. Strokner turned the folder. Jordyn looked at the picture and licked her lips. The guy in the picture was breathtakingly sexy. Clean cut face with a steel like jaw. A well defined chin and little defiance in the way his lip looked ready to curl. His eyes were ice blue and the picture was sexier by the fact that it was the guy’s mugshot.

  “Who is it?” Jordyn asked.

  “His name is Jace. But like I said, this is my side project. Not really part of your job.”

  Jordyn stared at the picture. She wouldn’t mind meeting Jace in person. Before Jordyn knew what she was doing, she looked up.

  “I can help with that part too,” Jordyn said. “If you’d like.”

  “I’m supposed to just trust you?”

 

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