Revved Up Soul: A MC Romance

by Lorde, Liz K.

  She wrapped her hand around the glass rose in her coat, running her fingers along the petals. It calmed her to absently play with the token, and yet a flash of anger jumped right through her when she thought about Luke and that girl. I’m being selfish, Augustus could have died … I wish I could forget about Luke.

  We’ll never see eye to eye.

  Jasmine spent another couple of minutes reflecting on the chaos in her life when she heard the door creak open behind her. Her body jolted in response and she craned her neck to see who it was. Tch, speak of the devil.

  Light poured through the doorway as Luke stepped inside of the stairwell, letting the door close behind him. “Figured you might be in here,” he smiled that handsome, private smile.

  It made her gut churn with disgust. She saw the way he had smiled at the girl. His private smile was not Jasmine’s anymore, and it never had been.

  Luke continued, “You okay?”

  She turned her head away from the man, not wanting to even look at him. “What’s it to you,” she said cattily.

  “Whoa whoa,” Luke stepped over to her, sitting on the yellow railing and looking down upon her. “Did I do something wrong here? I can smell the vinegar coming off of you right now,” he laughed.

  “It’s not funny,” Jasmine coolly announced, still not looking the man in his eyes.

  Silence hung in the air for several heartbeats. “I’m sorry,” he said, though she could tell he wasn’t sure just why he had to be as such.

  “You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for,” she could only see Augustus’ eyes, black and dilated. “I—“ she fumbled over her own words, a tight ball forming in her throat. “I almost lost someone close to me today, Luke,” she phrased it that way instead.

  The corner of Luke’s mouth downturned in sorrow. “Talk to me,” he implored.

  She stroked one of the glass petals and shifted against the hard concrete wall. “I mean, I guess I can’t say that we’re friends exactly,” she started, “we see each other a lot, and I’d like to think that he’s my friend but …”

  Luke slowly moved from his spot on the rail and slid over beside of Jasmine, his necklace moved with him. He then carefully slipped a hand around her shoulder.

  She thought briefly about physically telling him no, but instead leaned against his touch. “He did something really stupid,” she continued, taking in the lovely smell that was all his own. “Something that could have ruined his life and I’m just, scared I guess.”

  “It’ll be okay,” he rubbed along her shoulder soothingly.

  “Maybe,” she offered in reply. “I saw you earlier,” she confessed quiet as a mouse.

  “With Janet?” He asked, chuckling to himself. God why did he always have to be so cocky. “That why you’re pissed?” Asshole.

  The anger rippled right through her then. “It is, actually,” she snapped, somewhere between too sad to function and too angry to think clearly. She wriggled free from the man and stood up. “The two of you had your hands all over each other,” Jasmine lashed out, narrowing her eyes. “You had that same stupid smile that you gave me when we first met,” bringing a hand up to her mouth, she moved back against the railing – the sting of tears threatening as she bumped her ass.

  Luke got up and his jaws relaxed open an inch. “Look just let me explain.”

  “No!” She whined, as if she were a girl again acting out against her father’s wishes. “Why should I? By what right? You, you think I killed your brother—and you act one way and then you go and act another,” adrenaline coursed through her; the blood in her felt thick, like sludge through her veins.

  “Calm down Jas,” he put up his hands, his eyes searching her own.

  “Everything you do makes me crazy and I can’t take it,” a single sob escaped her and a warm tear rolled down from her eye. Without thinking she tried to move further away from him.

  Lightning jolted up from the soles of her feet and shot through her spine like it were a conduit, a sickness assaulting her gut and a sense of doom cutting right through her – Jasmine’s muscles suddenly felt like jelly and her body’s perception of time and space became distorted.

  Oh shit

  Luke closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye.

  Jasmine’s heart thumped against her breast and for half a heartbeat she wondered what that shrill noise was as she started to freefall over the edge of the railing, her long legs lifted from the ground and up into the air – nearly level with the yellow rail.

  Luke’s arms coiled around her as he snatched her, grunting as he pulled her back from her fall and pinioning Jasmine’s lithe body against his own. The moment seemed to crystalize, electricity dancing subtly between the two.

  Jasmine took in a breath, her chest heaving outwards against Luke’s. When she saw his eyes exploring her own and he tilted his head to the right, she knew. It felt like every part of her body had become hyper sensitive, like the inside of her body had gooseflesh in glorious anticipation.

  Please let it be my everything.

  Luke tightened his grip against Jasmine and cocked his head to the side, moving in slow and pressing his lips against her own.

  It was her everything and more.

  His lips pressed soft at first, and then hard. Her body felt like it wanted to melt against his, waves of pure ecstasy crashing against her – a ball of need forming between her legs and a finger invisible pushing joyously against her chest. Jasmine moaned with pleasure as Luke brought her to the wall, pushing her against it and taking her mouth for all that it was worth.

  Luke lifted her up with a grunt and moved along her supple neckline, tasting her in full.

  The ends of Jasmine’s nipples prickled with pleasure and soft little noises escaped the depths of her throat. She coiled her legs around his hips and pulled his person against her, loving the feel of his wet and warm mouth attacking her neck. God, yes, bite me just like that. Jasmine’s body went wild with lust, intoxicated by the way he marked her. She wanted to tell him to be careful, that it would be grossly unprofessional for others to see anything on her – but all she could think about was how amazing it felt to have his hardness pressing up against her through his Levi’s.

  With a primal noise, Luke pressed harder against Jasmine – his hands exploring her and savoring every glorious inch. He looked deep into her emerald eyes, his chest expanding hard in a quick breath and his jaw a little slack. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he declared, his eyes searching Jasmine’s desperately.

  Lovely warmth blossomed deep within Jasmine’s chest, a feeling of elation flooding her so quickly she feared that she might drown in it. “You’re always on my mind,” she husked, taking his face in her hands and kissing him hard. He tasted amazing, was it even possible for someone to taste that good? “When I saw you—I just wanted to smack her and kiss your lips right there, you make me crazy, Luke,” Jasmine confessed.

  Luke brushed his hand against Jasmine’s cheek and she leaned into his touch. “I was playing her, Jas,” he pressed his forehead against hers.

  “Are you playing me?” She was afraid of how he might answer.

  “Everything you make me feel is too damn real,” he kissed her again. “I needed to score some Oxycotten for the club; she couldn’t give me any more.”

  “How many did you need?” She pulled him by his head gently into another kiss, savoring the taste of his mouth – biting down just a little.

  “A lot more than she could spare,” he gave a hopeless look.

  “So?”

  “Sixty,” he said.

  “Wow,” Jasmine exclaimed, “I take it that many’s probably not for pain management.”

  Luke offered only a stoic silence in response, the corner of his mouth curling and his brows rising slightly. He moved back to her neck, kissing all along it.

  She knew that she needed to get back to work, a niggling feeling of fear creeping along her that someone might catch them at any moment. But i
t just felt so damn good. “How badly do you need them?” She hated herself for asking, hated herself for the compelling feeling in her chest that spurned her so.

  “Why?” Luke sounded suspicious.

  “Just tell me,” Jasmine breathed.

  He pulled himself away from her then, setting her back down carefully so that her feet touched the floor. “No,” he said, “if you’re getting at what I think you’re getting at, then no.”

  Jasmine crossed her arms, “So you’ve got a better idea.”

  “I’m not putting your career at risk,” Luke deflected.

  “I have someone that owes me a favor,” Jasmine tilted her head and stepped forward, “let me help,” she insisted.

  Luke froze in place as Jasmine placed her hand on his chest, looking into her emerald eyes. “I don’t know,” he muttered beneath his breath, Jasmine let her hand slowly run down the hard muscles of the man. He grabbed her wrist and pressed his arm along the frame of her chest, shoving her against the wall – a breathy gasp of excitement escaped her mouth. A smirk walked along the lines of Luke’s face.

  Liquid fire ran through her body freely. Was it wrong to like being handled so rough? “What’s the matter,” Jasmine husked, “afraid I might feel how turned on you are?”

  “Like I said,” he chuckled darkly, “I have a hard time controlling myself around you.”

  Wetness pooled against the base of Jasmine’s sex. “Maybe I like it when you lose control,” she purred.

  Luke’s smirk widened. “We’ll see about that.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” she forcefully pushed him off of her, taking his hands in her own and holding them. “If you … give me a bit,” she knew it wasn’t smart. She knew better. “I’ll get you what you need.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Luke

  The sun hung low and fat on the skyline, trying to hide itself away as the moon faintly came into view – the last orange rays leaving the heavens a wondrous pink. He needed to get there soon; he was already fifteen past the agreed hour. The roar of his bike punched at the air as Luke sped past a Civic. He was driving fast down the highway, the broken white lines of the road becoming a kind of blur. Dark trees painted the landscape with their mighty trunks and their riots of leaves, thick reaching branches shooting in all directions. He could smell them in the moist air and it was good; Luke always felt more alive when he was immersed in nature, it felt right.

  You know you shouldn’t have let her get those Oxycottons, he chided. You’re making your problems her problems. Love was supposed to embolden you, set you free – not keep you beholden to the cesspool that was dealing. Or at least supplying, in this case. Same difference. Able had always preached that being pragmatic about the fact, that if the Knights weren’t doing it, someone else would, was just a cop out. That if more people went against the grain, real change might happen.

  Luke’s views never quite fell on that side of the white picket fence. He hoped, deep within, that they one day would.

  A part of him cringed when he thought about going back to his home. Having to give that sycophant her fix. Back in the day Luke stuck anything that moved within his radius, Kayla just happened to have the wettest gash and the meanest lay of his life. Luke slid over into the far right lane, fast approaching his exit.

  ***

  It sent a warm wave of disgust down Luke’s person when he saw Robert waiting there in the woods on his bike, a pair of beat up junkers and a black escalade parked on the dirt lot. Robert had his pack of goods slung around his person.

  The din of the engine of Luke’s FX50 came to a relative quiet as he slowly approached and then stopped altogether. He kicked up his stand, brought his leg up high and twirled off of the bike. He thought, for the briefest of moments, of his brother – the ring on Luke’s silver necklace moved to his motion.

  The house before the two was an almost palatial den of drugs and sex and redneck debauchery. Luke never enjoyed dealing with Shady Earl, but for some reason Allen always insisted that he and Robert be the ones that keep that relationship intact. Still, the man paid good dollar for the product they supplied – things only became complicated when the clubs original connection passed away.

  Robert gave that stupid grin, those worms one would call lips curling against his face. “Took you so long,” he complained.

  “None of your concern,” Luke dismissed, nobody knew where he was getting the new flow of Oxycottons and he intended to keep it that way.

  “F’you say so,” Robert hopped off of his ride and adjusted the piece concealed at his waist. “Ya know I’ve been thinking,” he started. Surprised you’re even capable of such a thing. “Ten a pop seems kind of low, don’t you think? I mean we’re taking all of the risk here.”

  “The price is the price, Robert,” Luke didn’t want to even entertain the idea of raising the price a couple of dollars, definitely not right before a meet. Was he trying to get us fucking killed? He wondered then, what had happened to his once friend – sure he was always off, but the recent years had really brought out the worst in him.

  Robert clicked his tongue as Luke pulled out a black pack and a Glock, “You’re really killing my mood, first you make a scene and now you’re getting your panties twisted over valuing product? What’s gotten into you man.”

  Luke’s bones ached. He looked over to Robert and tucked his piece away in his black jacket. “Nothing,” he replied curtly, taking a series of long strides towards the house. Just had enough of the cancer that is you.

  Robert scoffed and followed in tow.

  The house was painted a dry, faded white, cracks and chips adorning its skeleton from decades of wear and tear; neglect would be one way to describe it. The windowpanes were grimy and one of them still broken, never to be replaced or fixed – curtains that could only be described as dirty rags protected any prying eyes. Leaves and branches littered the roof of the house, and with every step that Luke took, it felt like the decrepit old home creaked with fear.

  Luke ascended the small set of rotted wooden steps, the front porch looked as though it were only barely able to maintain the structural load. He could smell the foul odor of long rotting garbage even from here, his nose flared in absolute disgust. How someone could run a base of operations, let alone live here was beyond Luke – he pondered how many possible diseases he could catch just by associating himself with the place.

  Robert followed at shoulder’s length.

  Sharing a quick glance, Luke warned, “Stick to the plan.”

  Robert said nothing.

  Knocking specifically four times, Luke waited for what felt like an eternity – craning his neck to look behind as darkness quickly approached. The woods were quiet and eerily inviting, as if they housed something unholy – it felt like a thousand eyes and one were staring from some place that Luke could not discern.

  And then the door opened.

  It was one of Earl’s goons that had answered – not one that Luke knew. Thankfully too, he had no intention of getting to know a person as nasty as the man on an impersonal level, nor, especially so, a personal one. He had a nose bent at an odd angle and his teeth were repulsive like a highlight marker kind of yellow – the stench of those unwashed puppies kissed the nostrils of Luke’s nose. He wondered if it would be appropriate to spill his breakfast all over the goon of a man, considering the fact that he didn’t know what a shower was. He probably bathed in worse.

  The man finally spoke, “You two from the Knights?” Zombies would be so disappointed.

  Robert placed a hand on the door frame, Luke half expected it to break. “No,” Robert drawled, “these are just our civilian clothes. We’re actually here to talk to you about the book of Mormon, I’m wearing my special underwear today.” Luke stifled a laugh and turned away, the corner of his mouth upturning.

  The goon’s face started to redden in embarrassment. “Come on then,” he grunted, moving himself out of their way.

  Both men walked through and
the goon shut the door behind them, stepping in front of the bikers. The inside was just as rotten as the outside. Half broken light fixtures hung precariously from the ceiling and walls, old French style wall paper with the symbol of what Luke had always presumed to be St.Louis. It was torn and had large damp spots where mildew had long since begun its life. The stairs, of which he’d never been up, were broken and seemed as though if one did not tread carefully, they would quickly regret it.

  He could hear the sound of Earl laughing; the man had a distinct, weasel-like howl to him. Luke and Robert sauntered through the dilapidated den of misery, avoiding the practical sea of trash and used condoms – the kitchen was a shrine now, to Lord Cigarette and his loyal follower’s ash and tar. Cockroaches scattered as they moved on through, somehow gliding across the crusted over pots and pans and broken dishes.

  The study of the home was, in comparison to the remarkable filth of the other rooms, a paragon of cleanliness. Its carpets were still a nasty stain of yellow, but everything was mostly intact. Shady Earl was there, howling on a wooden throne and nursing a beer – his two other ‘friends’ were showing him something on their smartphone. There was also an 870 pump action shotgun resting against the man’s chair. Luke shifted his head, hearing a noise. He looked over at the end of the room, as the ticking resounded from a grandfather clock in all its oddly pristine glory – it quietly sat in the back of the room by its neighboring door. He felt it strange that he’d never once noticed it, maybe it was new?

  It was then that Earl noticed them, containing his laughter, “Well shittt,” he said, “about time you got here, your ass is late.” The man who escorted them announced that he had to use the john upstairs.