The Biker's Dirty Little Secret

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The Biker's Dirty Little Secret Page 4

by Sam Crescent


  “Sorry about that,” she said.

  “No problem. I’ll see you soon.”

  He was suddenly in a rush, backing away, not even waiting to give her the good-bye kiss she craved.

  As he headed to the parking area, she called out. “Where are you off to?”

  “Just tying up a loose end before heading home.”

  Chapter Four

  It would have been so easy to deal with Sean Rigby in the parking lot, but Brick had taken one look at him and knew he needed more information before taking him out. The more he knew about Callie, the more he realized how troubled her life had been. His first assessment of her had been right. She was a total innocent and certainly didn’t walk within his world, but due to her parents, she’d been completely swamped, unwillingly, into all of it.

  Addicts were trouble. They tended to be selfish, using any means possible to get their next high. Callie’s start in life had been difficult thanks to her parents and extended family. From all the information he’d gotten, she’d been in and out of child protective services until her grandmother stepped in. Once she did, Callie’s life had been far easier, but still a struggle. She didn’t come from money, and everything she got had to be earned.

  Like rent.

  That was where that fucking prick Sean Rigby entered her life. After her mother kicked her out of the grandmother’s trailer on the same day of the funeral, Callie had been homeless. She’d probably needed rent money fast, and just looking at the cost of the rent for that piece of shit apartment, it was extortion. There was no way anyone would be able to make a life in that place. On the way upstairs, the stench alone had been enough to tempt him to expose her to the real him. The clubhouse was always busy with men coming and going, not to mention the abundance of women, but it was fucking clean and tidy.

  The bank had turned her down for a loan, and so there was only one savior in her world at the time—Sean Rigby, the local prick.

  Brick sat outside of the loan shark’s half-a-million-dollar house, located just out of town, not too far from the city.

  It looked like a statement house. Purchased with dirty money.

  Sean seemed to want the whole world to know he was coming up in the world. Callie had more than paid for her rental loan, but Sean kept on changing the rules to suit him, which explained the same sandwiches every single day. Peanut butter, and he noticed she always counted her change. Callie was his woman now, and that bullshit wouldn’t cut it anymore.

  Brick climbed off his bike. Tonight, he wore his leather cut.

  He palmed his 9mm as he approached the gate. Two men puffed their chests out, looking so out of place.

  “Move out of my way.” His leather cut spoke volumes.

  “You’re not on the guest list,” the first goon said.

  He turned toward him and smiled. “Move.” He was fast growing bored. With the blue balls he’d been living with, he wasn’t in the mood to argue.

  Arms folded, he looked at the two of them, ready to do some serious damage. They didn’t move, and the second goon decided to reach for his piece.

  Brick grabbed his wrist, twisted the man around, and had his arm snapped before the other guy even reacted. The moment his friend came at him, he slammed his fist in the man’s face so hard, he collapsed to the ground. Brick’s body wasn’t ripped for show. He could handle himself in the worst of situations.

  “I don’t need to be on any fucking list.” He spat on the ground, anger rushing through his body as he stepped past them, opening the gate. There was even a lock in place. He wrapped the chain around the fence, securing it in place so once those assholes were on their feet, there would be no way for them to interrupt him.

  The key was in the lock, and he clicked it into place, taking the key with him. He placed it in his pocket and headed into the house. Only two more guards were in his way, and he took care of them without using his gun or knife.

  Considering how many lives Sean Rigby had ruined, he figured the man would be clued in and have plenty of muscle to surround him.

  There was no sign of Sean downstairs, and Brick slowly made his way up the winding staircase, drawing his gun. He had no doubt Sean knew how to handle himself. The man had come from nothing and rose up the ranks. Being a loan shark was just one of many side businesses. The man was dangerous. He had a history of making women who couldn’t pay their debt work for him.

  Prostitution was his main source of income, and the women had no choice but to earn for him. He preyed on the weak, exploited them, and it made him sick to his stomach just thinking about it.

  The sounds of masculine groans came from the bedroom at the end of the hall. The door was partially open, and he saw Sean on his bed, a blonde between his thighs, sucking his cock. He had a hold of her hair in a death grip, forcing her to gag on his length.

  “That’s it, whore, take it deep. Sucking my dick takes a couple of dollars off your interest. Swallowing, well, that just gets you a few extra days.”

  Sean slammed his cock deep, and Brick knew the son of a bitch would make Callie do the same thing at some point. This was a power trip for him. Hurting women.

  Brick had seen and heard enough. He kicked the door open, drawing his weapon as he looked at Sean. Brick wasn’t some civilian off the street. He was VP of the Straight to Hell MC. Nobody wanted a visit from him.

  The bastard groaned and shoved away the woman, who scrambled out of the room, running as fast as she could.

  “You just interrupted a perfectly good blowjob,” Sean said. He shook his head. “You can put that gun away.”

  “I like to hold it.”

  “Makes you feel powerful?” Sean asked. He reached for a pack of smokes. “You want one?”

  “You know why I’m here.”

  “I’ve got no clue why a Straight to Hell MC is standing in my bedroom being a cock block. You just cost that woman some interest and a bit more time.”

  “This isn’t a game,” Brick said.

  Sean laughed. “Wanna bet?”

  Brick fired the gun, shooting the bed right between Sean’s spread thighs.

  “Another inch and that would be your dick. Lucky for you, I’m a good shot. Or am I?”

  He saw the quiver in Sean’s hand. The bastard wasn’t half as calm as he claimed to be. “Callie. I want her debt removed immediately.”

  “That fat bitch owes me big, and I have a means to collect. Not happening. I’ve got no beef with you. Leave, and I’ll call this even.”

  Brick smiled and tucked his gun away, but he didn’t leave. He advanced toward the bed, grabbing Sean by the back of his head and slamming his palm down on his nose. The sound of bones crushing filled the air, as did Sean’s screams.

  He was so fucking pissed. He pulled Sean from the bed and shoved him against the mirror. The glass broke from the impact.

  He was surprised when Sean started to hit back, even with blood pissing from his nose. Brick blocked each hit and punched him in the face, getting him in the eye.

  Each blow took Sean to the floor until he was in a heap, moaning and groaning.

  Brick took his knife out and grabbed Sean’s dick, which was now limp between his thighs.

  “You’re going to wipe Callie’s slate clean, aren’t you?”

  “No, man, please don’t.”

  His blade was fresh and sharp. He held the edge against the fucker’s dick and waited for him to answer.

  “Then answer me, or you’re going to be living your life dickless. You won’t be able to scare pussy with a fucking stump.”

  He was more than happy to take the guy’s dick. It wasn’t like he deserved it with the pain he’d caused. The more he thought about it, he’d be doing the rest of the world a favor.

  “Yes, Callie’s slate is wiped clean. No more loan. No nothing. I promise. She’s small potatoes, anyway.”

  Brick was a little disappointed. Why couldn’t the prick fight him a little more?

  He removed his knife and wiped it on a c
lean towel. “Good answer. Pleasure doing business with you, Sean.”

  He whistled as he entered the bathroom, washing his hands before stepping back into the bedroom.

  Sean tried to scramble away as fast as he could. Brick grinned.

  He left the house without another word and found the whore at the gate, shaking. With the key in hand, he slid it into the lock. The woman turned to him with a watery smile, thanking him.

  He never answered, just climbed on his bike, taking one last look at the house. Callie deserved a nice place.

  He had a sudden image of her pregnant with his child.

  Never in all the years he’d been with the Straight to Hell MC, no, scrap that, in all the years he’d been a fucking adult, had he ever once thought of having a child.

  Callie … what was it about this woman that made him forget his own personal vows to never bring a child into this world?

  No woman had ever made him cave.

  Callie was like no woman he’d ever met. She alone made him want everything. Rather than be angry, he smiled.

  Today was a very good day.

  ****

  The Skull Nation were coming around more and more. She spent a lot of time with her head down and was frequently sent off for breaks. Today, she had a nice little bump on her head for keeping to herself, walking into one of the steel posts that kept the main structure of the building up. Her head hurt, but she’d live.

  She rubbed her temple with a moan and glanced around from her bench.

  Brick hadn’t called her in a couple of days.

  They’d gone from being hot and heavy to him not calling. Was she a bad kisser? She didn’t have anyone to compare her skill to. She’d never had the time for boys or men. Brick was different, though. He gave her this buzz, and every time she was around him, she felt like she was floating on cloud nine. It was the best feeling. She sipped at her coffee, feeling so incredibly tired. Her apartment had sprung a random leak last night, and glancing up at the sky, she knew the rest of the day was going to be a huge bust. Overnight, the bucket had filled countless times, and today she’d put out a larger one. There was no rainfall as yet.

  The landlord refused to answer her calls.

  Not to mention, Sean Rigby told her he’d be coming by for more of her money tonight. Well, interest. Her debt should have been paid in full by now. What had she been thinking getting messed up with a shady guy like him? Everything was so fucking messed up. She rubbed at her eyes.

  When would the world give her one break? Just one? She wasn’t even asking for much. All she wanted was some good luck to help her get through.

  Lost in her own little worries and thoughts, she didn’t realize Jeff had been calling her name. He stood in front of her, arms spread wide. “Are you going to come in and serve customers or what?” His voice rose, and she scrambled to her feet, rushing back into the shop to see a short line of customers.

  Sporting a black eye, Jeff was limping a bit.

  Things hadn’t gone well with The Skull Nation MC. It wasn’t her business, and working for him was starting to become a problem.

  The Skull Nation pissed him off and upset him, and as payback, he often took it out on her. Normally, he was a decent guy, but in the last few weeks, he’d gotten meaner.

  She finished serving the customers and stayed in the main shop, avoiding the back.

  Time ticked by slowly, and when it was near to closing, Jeff came out of the back. He went to the front of the store, turned the sign over to closed, and locked the door.

  “From now on, you stay in the shop. Don’t leave it until it’s your lunch break. Got it?”

  “Yes,” she said. He’d been the one to tell her to leave the store each time. Clearly, he wasn’t happy with her following orders. “Jeff, is their business really worth this?”

  He glared at her. “Are you trying to tell me how to run my store?”

  She shook her head, swallowing hard. “No. Not at all.” Callie held her hands up in submission so he knew she didn’t mean anything bad about it.

  “Just remember I gave you a job when no one would. You owe me, Callie. You should be fucking worshipping me. I stopped you from living a dog’s life.” He advanced toward her, and she cried out as he grabbed her arms and started to shake her. “You don’t tell me what the fuck to do. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get it through your fucking skull. You work for me.” He shoved her away, and she hit the side of the counter at a bad angle before falling to the tiled floor.

  She cried out as pain exploded in her ribs.

  “Get the fuck out of here before I fire you.”

  He stepped over her. The edge of his boot hit her as he moved. She didn’t know if that was intentional or a mistake.

  There was nothing she could do. She felt so small and desperate.

  She needed this job.

  Without another word, she grabbed her bag and jacket, then left the store immediately. The pain in her side wouldn’t go away. She placed her palm down with a wince, pulling away.

  It was fine. She would look at it the moment she got home.

  The walk to her apartment was slow going. She had no money for a taxi. With each passing second, the pain increased. At times, she had to stop in order to take a full breath.

  The crash into the counter was bad. There was pain, and then there was this kind of pain.

  Picking up her pace, she tried not to think about what this could mean. There was no way she’d go to the hospital. The cost alone would stop her from eating for months, and she’d end up homeless. Jeff didn’t offer health insurance, so she had to be more careful.

  With her apartment in sight, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  The acrid stench of piss and feces assailed her when she opened the stairwell door.

  She took one step in front of the other, making her way up the stairs. A working elevator would be heavenly about now. Perspiration dotted her brow. Each floor made her feel even crazier for living in this dump. There had to have been a better-priced ground-floor place somewhere.

  Desperate times called for desperate measures, and with her mom kicking her out of the trailer without notice, she’d been pretty fucking desperate. Her grandmother had always told her to smile in the face of adversity, but right now, Callie felt more like curling up in a ball and giving up. Nothing she ever did was good enough. The little ray of light in her life, Brick, confused her.

  She promised herself she’d never be a woman who waited around for a man to call. Brick had her always glancing at her cell phone. It was out of date, people teasing her for even having the relic, but she only ever had it in case of emergencies.

  She got to her apartment door.

  A sense of victory flooded her, and she placed her damp forehead against the wood. Her hands shook as she put the key in and opened her door.

  Stepping inside, she turned on the light and screamed as she caught sight of Sean Rigby in her apartment, lounging on her sofa.

  He looked … a mess. Worse than Jeff ever looked. White tape was across his nose. Bruising all over his face, and the glare he directed her way, sent a shiver up her spine. She hadn’t beat him up, but whoever did, well, they must have a death wish.

  “Mr. Rigby,” she said.

  The pain wasn’t going away. This wasn’t good.

  “Hello, Callie.”

  “I have your money, Mr. Rigby, but I wasn’t able to go to the bank.” She’d intended to go during her lunch break, but after Jeff had yelled at her, asking him if she could leave seemed wrong. She’d also gone without lunch. Now she was in pain and starving.

  He got to his feet and advanced toward her.

  Acrid fear filled her veins, and the adrenaline rush made her dizzy.

  “Your debt is done,” he said. “The next time you send a Straight to Hell MC piece of shit to my property, I won’t be so forgiving.”

  She frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Straight to
Hell MC. She’d never seen one of them. She heard of them, knew of their reputation—they were deadly. Most claimed they were worse than the Skull Nation.

  “You have no idea, do you?” Sean asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Well, consider this payback. Maybe it’s time for you to ask your boyfriend where he’s from.”

  “Brick’s a chicken farmer.” Dots started to appear in front of her eyes. She felt out of control in her own body. The pain in her side had morphed into agony. The walk, and now this. It was all a little too much.

  “You’re such a fucking idiot. He’s no chicken farmer. He’s a fucking biker. The worst of the worst, and I should know. This is his handiwork.” He pointed at his face. “I don’t know what he sees in you. From what I heard, club pussy is rife where he comes from.”

  With that, he turned and left her apartment.

  A Straight to Hell MC?

  No, it wasn’t possible.

  Brick wouldn’t lie to her.

  Sean Rigby was the one who was lying.

  She rushed to the mirror, or as fast as the pain would allow, stripped off her coat, and lifted her shirt. Bruises covered her ribs where she’d hit the counter, and she gasped.

  How much damage could one little shove cause? She had the worse freaking luck.

  There was no way she was going to avoid a hospital trip. Not as she suddenly felt dizzy. Sickness flooded her.

  A knock at the door pulled her back to the present. She walked to it cautiously, wondering if Sean had changed his mind about her debt.

  Opening the door, she frowned. Brick stood there, holding a bag, and the smells were amazing.

  The world spun.

  “Straight to Hell MC.”

  “Callie.”

  Why wouldn’t the world stop spinning?

  Closing her eyes, Callie allowed herself to be slumped into a black world where there was no pain.

  Chapter Five

  “Why am I here?” Lord asked.

 

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