The Filthy Few (Iron Disciples MC)

by Daniella Tucci

  “Of course. He thinks he got this wonderful Intel on the guy who shot up his friend and he’s going there now. What he doesn’t know is I leaked that little bit of Intel to him to set him up. Something you should know about me Gimp. I’m not a rapist. That’s not to say I won’t take advantage, but I don’t prefer rape. I’d rather have a willing victim. So here’s what I’m going to do for you. I’m going to make you my willing victim.”

  “Never you mother fucker!”

  “Oh I think you will.”

  He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a cell phone. He punches a few buttons then holds it for me to see. There’s a number on the screen.

  “If you agree to fuck me, then I will let you dial that number and warn my brother about the trap he is walking into.”

  “No way shithead!”

  “You’d rather resist me than be a willing participant and save your boyfriend? You’re a cold woman Gimp. All you gotta do is drop your panties for me, and then when I’m done you get to call Cade and warn him off. What do you say? I promise I’ll be reasonably gentle. I’m no sadist. You might even enjoy yourself. But be advised, time is running out! In fact, by my best calculation, you have about three minutes to make your decision. You make the right choice in three minutes then we have our fun and you get to call your boyfriend afterwards and save his life and his brother’s lives as well. Do you really want their blood on your hand? You alone have the ability to save so many lives.”

  He pauses, looking at me meaningfully. His expression softens for a brief time, the he gets that icy look in his eyes and his voice hardens.

  “So what’s it gonna be bitch!”

  What’s it gonna be bitch? I don’t know, what is it gonna be bitch?

  “I see you’re not convinced.” He says and he starts fiddling with his cell phone. “Here we are. So the building where your boyfriend and his buddies are approaching has been wired, if you know what I mean. We just so happened to have visuals approaching the area. Would you like to see them?” He asks, softening the tone of his voice.”

  When I don’t answer he decides to show me. He pushes a button and shows me his phone’s screen. I can see a street with a half a dozen motorcycles approaching from the far end. Then the camera changes to a different view.

  “Those are my guys,” he explains.

  His guys are laying what looks some kind of explosives across the alleyway where the guys on bikes are headed. From a rooftop I can see another man holding what must be some kind of detonator. The camera switches again and the guys on bikes are even closer.

  “You’re running out of time, Gimp.”

  My whole body is trembling. My heart is hammering against my chest. I have never been forced into a position like this in all my life. I think back over my life as a stockbroker, looking for something to compare to this but I’m drawing a blank. I have never been in a position where other lives depended on me. Now they do and I have to think fast. At least that’s something I am used to doing; thinking fast. My job requires I sift through and analyze data, trading patterns and volume, et cetera, et cetera…

  I try to tell myself that this is not my problem. I’m not an outlaw biker and I’m not some biker’s old lady so why should their blood be on my hands? Cade and his guys know the risk. This is their world that they chose, while I am being thrust into it against my will. My stomach is starting to feel the effects of the stress. I’m nauseated and find myself swallowing constantly to keep down the bile that keeps threatening to spew forth. So I am supposed to consent to being raped to save people I don’t even know; well, except for Cade. I don’t even know I can. In fact I don’t think I can willingly submit. How can I even call myself Cade’s girl if I’m not even willing to make a sacrifice to save his life?

  “What’s it gonna be Gimp? You gonna be my bitch or not?”

  He can’t kill his twin brother. He’s gotta be bluffing. He said I had three minutes to decide or it would be too late to save them. I’m pretty sure it’s been over five. He’s fucking bluffing!

  Time for me to grow a backbone. “No, I’m not going to be your bitch so get the fuck out of here!”

  “I am so disappointed in you gimp. So very disappointed.”

  He reaches in his pocket for something. Oh shit, it’s a detonator! He’s reaching…it’s his phone. I called his bluff. He dials a number.

  “Do it!” he hisses into his phone when someone answers. Blow the fuckers to kingdom come!”

  “No!” The word is ripped from my soul.

  I called his fucking bluff, except he wasn’t bluffing! He just fucking snuffed out his own brother! I cannot fucking believe this shit. My leg gives out and I crumble to the floor. My crutches scatter. Sharp pain shoots up through my bum leg making me wince. My poor Cade set up by his own brother and helped to die by his woman. I can’t believe I did this to him. Finally I look over at Eddie. He’s watching something on his phone. He notices me watching him.

  “I’m sorry gimp, would you like to see? Here, let me rewind it to the beginning.”

  He presses couple buttons then hands me his phone. I take it in shaking hands and immediately drop it on the floor.

  “Let me get that for you.” He says and snatches it up. “I’ll hold it, you just watch.”

  And I watch. A half a dozen bikes approach the place where the explosives have been set up. I was in horror, with a certain morbid fascination as my boyfriend and his buddies enter the kill zone. Then it happens. The screen of the small phone is one orange and black fireball for about five seconds then the blast and the flames give way to one giant, ugly oily black plume of smoke. It’s so thick I can barely make out the detritus left over from six Harley’s and their riders. I don’t have the heart to look anymore. I know what I have done and I hate myself for my weakness. I could have saved my man and five of his buddies but I chose to be selfish and now their hot, slick blood is covering my shaking hands. My stomach revolts. I look around frantically for a trash can or something to vomit in or on. I don’t see anything so I unleash a torrent of vomitus on Cade’s glossy wood floor.

  “Oh now that’s just gross, Gimp. Couldn’t you have made it to the bathroom? Or at least a waste can anywhere? This place is gonna stink to high heaven soon as the afternoon heat sets in.”

  He hands me a rag. “Go clean yourself up. Then you can start on the floor. I can’t believe you actually puked. I expected better from you, but instead you just barf like some teenaged pussy; that’s really pathetic. You know before your little spewing incident I really wanted you. I thought there was a strength about you, but all I see now is some scared little girl. Yeah I know, that’s a turn on for a lot of guys, but not me. You’re just a pathetic little tart that my brother is screwing! You have a nice life gimp!”

  Without looking back he just turns and leaves me to my misery. When the door slams shut I collapse on the hard wood, burying my face in my arms heedless of the growing pile of bile next to me. I close my eyes but find I all I can see are six bikers being blown to bits over and over again in HD TV. It’s like the images have been burned into my retinas and I can’t un-see them as much as I would like to. As I lie here curled up on the floor my heart begins to ache. I feel like a deep gash has been opened up inside me and my soul is bleeding out. I reach up with a tentative finger and touch my cheeks just below my eyes. Dry as a bone. What’ll it take, I wonder, to let go… What form of calamity has to take place for me to actually cry? I feel hallow. As a black and orange fireball decimates my lover and his brothers, the search goes on in my soul for feelings that makes us human. And if I can’t find them, does that make me something else? I have to wonder if I would have told Cade about his brother’s visit, would that have changed things? Would he have reacted any different? I can’t afford to go there; not if I want to retain some semblance of sanity.

  A sudden thought strikes me. I have to leave here. At some point Eddie is going to come back to gloat and to no doubt rape me. How am I supposed to leave? My car i
sn’t even here. I suppose I could call a cab. But who’s going to help me gather up my shit? Stacy. I’ll call her and offer to pay her to help me get out of dodge, so to speak. If I call anyone else they’re likely to start asking questions. At least Stacy knows better than to question me. She also knows what’s up and won’t judge.

  Twenty minutes later there’s a knocking on the front door.

  “Who is it?” I holler.

  I hear a voice but I can’t make out who it is. It seems a little soon for Stacy to be here already.

  “Who?” I ask again.

  “I’m gonna huff and I’m gonna puff, and I’m gonna blow your house down!”

  “Stacy shut the fuck up!”

  I do my best to hobble to the front door and let her in. She takes one look at me and makes a liar out of me.

  “Oh my god, what the hell happened to you? You look like shit. Did Cade dump you? No, Eddie came back didn’t he. What the hell is going on? Why’d you call me in the middle of the night anyway? Don’t you-”

  “Oh my god shut the fuck up already! Geeze Stacy, I called you because I can usually count on your discretion. What the fuck’s up with the twenty questions shit?”

  “Sorry, so you need to go home now? Right now in the middle of the night?”

  “Yes, before Eddie comes back.”

  “What did he do to you Morgan?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “Eddie’s dead? What’d you do to him?”

  “Not Eddie, his brother, Cade. Cade is dead because I couldn’t me a simple decision. His blood is on my hands Stacy.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Before she’ll take me home she makes me sit down and tell her the whole story from the beginning. It’s a hard story to tell, especially when it comes to the part where I have a decision to make. I am tempted to try.

  “I don’t get it,” she finally says. “You had an impossible decision to make. You were being asked to submit yourself to rape and battery and then to jus trust the guy that he wouldn’t blow up your man anyway. There was only one way that could have gone, and that’s with you refusing to let him rape you. You did the right thing. There was no other choice to make and I’m sorry it got your boyfriend killed but you can’t blame yourself honey.”

  “He’s dead Stacy! I can never change the fact that I could have saved six people today and I chose to be selfish. Death is permanent, rape is not. They’ll never come back but I could have tolerated a few minutes of sex with Eddie.”

  The more I talk the shittier I feel. There is no way I can spin this to something positive and that’s saying a lot coming from me. As a stockbroker I have always prided myself in being able to turn anything negative about a stock into something positive. I can turn this into something positive; or at least I should be able to.

  Stacy interrupts my black thoughts. “Yes, death is permanent, but so is rape; I should know.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about Stacy?”

  Suddenly she gets deathly quiet. Her face turns pale and she sits down abruptly. Something is wrong; very wrong.

  “Stacy what’s…did someone…rape you?”

  She nods miserably.

  “Oh fuck! I am so sorry Stacy, I had no fucking idea. When did this happen?”

  “Remember when I took ten days off for a death in the family a couple years ago?”

  “Yeah…you said your grandmother or something like that died. I thought that was a lot of time off for someone that was not even your parents…

  “My grandmother was already dead Morgan. I took the time off after I was raped. Back then I was taking the train to the city and back every day and I couldn’t bear to get back on that train. Especially since I was raped just outside the train station after a late night at work. I was wrecked! That’s why I finally sprang for a car and pay twenty dollars a day for parking in the city. I cannot bear to ride the train again after that happened.”

  “I am so sorry Stacy. Did they ever catch the guy?” I ask.

  “No…because…I couldn’t face going to the police and being questioned, then being torn apart in the court room.”

  “Oh my god Stacy, we would have supported you. We would have helped you. You wouldn’t have gone through it alone.”

  “Morgan…I would have been totally alone. No one else would have been on that witness stand but me. Me, that’s the only one who could have been there for me. Not you, not anyone else. I would have had to go through this on my own and at the time I just wasn’t strong enough for that. It’s been two years and it is still with me every day of my life. You say death is permanent, but I’m telling you, so is rape! You never get over it. You would have still regretted saying yes to that guy and you couldn’t trust that he would have even kept his end of the deal. After going to that much trouble to set up the explosives I seriously doubt he would not have gone through with it.”

  She may be right, but I’ll never know that. Cade is dead and I could have prevented it; probably. I don’t know how I can live with this knowledge. Time for a change of pace.

  “Stacy, will you go into the kitchen and get that bottle of wine on the counter and a couple glasses?”

  She gets the wine but only pours me a drink.

  “No way sister, you’re getting fucked up tonight right along with me! We got the bed to ourselves so no driving home drunk for you.”

  She ponders my proposal for a moment then grabs the bottle and fills her own glass. “Is there anything a little more robust around here than wine? No offense but I don’t relish the thought of drinking a bottle or more; if of course the plan is still to get wasted.”

  “Check around the kitchen. There’s no way in hell an outlaw biker is going to just a pussy drink like red wine. There’s gotta tequila or bourbon or something like that in his cupboards.”

  I hear her opening and closing drawers and cupboard doors until I hear a positive affirmation.

  “Ah ha! Tequila it is!” She proclaims proudly.

  A few minutes later she returns to the living room with a bottle and two glasses with ice in them. She pours and I power down the first two drinks without pause. She sits back on the couch and studies me carefully.

  “He was a good man I think; Cade. Even though Corey didn’t like him much, he did say that he seemed like an honorable man and worth you keeping around. You don’t know Corey like I do. That’s high praise coming from him.”

  “And I fucking killed him. Doesn’t that make me a black widow?”

  “You have to be married to the guy honey. Black Widow’s kill to get the insurance settlement and any assets their husband happened to have. And of course there’s the fact that you didn’t kill him.”

  “I can’t do this Stacy.”

  “Can’t do what?” She asks, refilling my glass.

  “I don’t do guilt. It fucks with my head too much.”

  “When have you ever felt guilty for something other than what happened today?”

  “When my mom died and when my dad died. It fucked with my head for years; still fucks with my head. I don’t fuckng need anything else up there trying to unbalance me.”

  Stacy takes a big swallow and squints her eyes as the fiery liquid goes down. “You’re pretty unbalanced already without my help.”

  We continue to drink as the warm glow of alcohol and friendship warms my soul and soothes my mind. At first it’s kinda weird, given our working relationship, but the more I get to know her and the more tequila I get on board, the more I really like her. She is showing me a side tonight that I have never seen before and I kinda like it. The next time her glass needs a refill I grab the bottle with the intention of filling her glass. However, on account of her wobbly hands and my wavering bottle, only about half makes it into the glass. A healthy amount winds up on her blouse.

  “I’m sssorry.” I slur.

  “It’s okay.” She replies, and then proceeds to unbutton her silk blouse.

  By the time she’s reached the last
button I realize I have been sitting here with baited breath watching the big reveal. I never really saw the real beauty that is Stacy until now. She has these ultra-delicate Asian features, small pointy nose, black almond eyes, long glossy black hair, and silky smooth black hair that falls around her now bared shoulders in a very tantalizing way. She is all of 100 pounds and five two at best. I can’t help but eye her lacy white bra as the thin material of her blouse gives way to a gorgeous rack. Unconsciously my tongue slips out of my pursed lips and lazily traces my upper lip. Her own lips are a chocolate brown, polished, tantalizing, kissable, and full.

  I watch her chest rise and fall with each breath she takes, and my pussy begins to feel things I have never experienced in the presence of a beautiful woman. I wonder what one of her manicured fingers would feel like thrusting deep inside me. And I wonder, what the hell is coming over me.

  I jump inside my own skin when I feel her hand on my bare knee. It’s an accident of course. She couldn’t be feeling the same things I’m feeling…can she? I decide to just sit here and see where that lovely hand of hers ends up. She takes my non-action as a green light and before I know it she’s knocking on my pussy’s door. I can literally feel the heat coming off her hand as she cups my sex through my panties. I can’t believe this is happening to me. I let myself slouch further into the couch pushing my hips into her hand. I can feel the beat of her heart from her hand, up against my clit and shooting sweet barbs of pleasure right into my brain and back again.

  She leans into me, pressing her full breasts against my own. Nipples collide and passions are ignited! It’s unbelievably exciting the first time her lips brush against mine! Her mouth is soft, but insistent. She presses mine with hers, just before her tongue darts between my lips giving me little forbidden thrills. Then she does the unthinkable, opening her eyes and staring right into mine unwavering as her fingers slip and slide between my legs. The familiarity of having another woman stimulate me is nothing compared to the intimacy of having that same woman looking into my eyes while our tongues do the dance of pleasure. Suddenly I have to kiss her breasts. It’s not enough to feel them pressed up against mine. I want to take her nipples into my mouth and to taste her flesh.