CRASH: The Rogue Sinners MC

by Claire St. Rose

  “Sixteen? We’re down to sixteen fucking brothers?” Andrew raged.

  “That’s all that’s left,” Horse said solemnly. He was beginning to have doubt about Andrew. In the last two months, twenty-eight brothers had been killed with another six injured. He knew they’d hurt the Knights, but he wasn’t sure they’d hurt them as much as they’d been hurt themselves.

  “Where’s Pogo?”

  “He was killed this morning when they tried to take the van. They got made and tried to take it on their own. We couldn’t get there in time to help.”

  “Fuck!” Andrew yelled. “I told him to not do something stupid! Goddamn him!”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Andrew stood panting, trying to get control of his anger. “We’re going to initiate some bitches, that’s what we’re going to do. We have something the Knights want, their old ladies, and I’m going to use that.” He smiled, but his eyes were hard. “Get everyone together. We’ll do them two at a time.”

  ***

  “It’s Honey,” Ironside said, meeting Whiteshirt and the rest of the Knights at the door. “I watched the security video and I’d bet my ass she let the Saracens in.”

  “That bitch. I’ll kill her.”

  “I’ll let you. Gear up. We’re pulling out.”

  “Do you know where they are?”

  “No, but we’re going to take this fucking city apart until we find them, starting with the Saracens’ clubhouse.”

  Three minutes after Whiteshirt arrived, they were leaving again, armed to the teeth with death in their eyes.

  They arrived at the back of the Saracens’ compound and dismounted. If they’d replaced their van, Ironside would have simply crashed the gate, but with just bikes, they had to be a little subtler. They parked their bikes in the bar that backed up to the Saracens’ lot and walked to the fence. It took only moments to cut through the wire and he and Whiteshirt held the chain link back so the rest of the Knights could squeeze through. If anyone was inside and watching, they were going to be seen, but he didn’t care. This was going to be nothing but a down and dirty cock fight, and they were going to shove theirs right up the Saracens collective asses.

  The Saracens’ clubhouse was a tiny building from the fifties and they moved quickly across the parking lot before sliding along the side of the building. They paused at the front corner and Ironside held up three fingers, folding them down one at a time into a fist before he burst around the corner. He and Whiteshirt had to ram their shoulders into the door twice before it began to give, their third charge breaking the door. The twenty Knights flowed into the clubhouse, but it was empty.

  “Where the fuck is everyone?” Jinx asked.

  “Search the place,” Whiteshirt ordered as he moved deeper into the clubhouse. What they were doing was violating one of the basic rules the Saracens and Knights had lived by for years. You don’t hit members in their home, and you don’t attack the other club’s clubhouse, but the Saracens had started down this path, so they were going to reap what they sowed.

  “Nothing!” Lolly reported.

  “Burn it,” Ironside said.

  “Ironside, are you—” Whiteshirt began.

  “Burn it!” he repeated more forcefully.

  Whiteshirt grimaced then nodded. The gloves were definitely off now. “You heard him. Burn it.”

  It took the Knights twenty minutes, but when they left, they left running, not knowing how long it would take for the clubhouse to fill with gas from the line feeding the water heater to reach the cigar they left burning in the front of the clubhouse.

  They were through the fence and well away from the clubhouse when the amount of gas reached critical density, but not so far they couldn’t hear the explosion over the sound of their Harleys.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Andrew and nine other men appeared from one of the motel rooms, their eyes hard and cold, their cocks tenting the front of their pants. They stopped in front of the women and stripped, stroking their cocks slowly until all of them were undressed.

  “Who’s Blaire?” Andrew asked, reaching into the group and pulling Ava out.

  “The Brunette, short hair, with glasses,” Honey supplied when nobody volunteered.

  One of the naked men reached in and took Blaire by the arm, pulling her out of the crowd.

  “Please,” Blaire begged softly. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

  Andrew laughed. “You Knight whores are going to like what we do to you.” He jerked Ava’s hair, making her hiss. “I like the spirit of this one, so she’s mine. I’ll take her first.”

  The men divided up, five on Blaire and the remaining four and Andrew claiming Ava.

  “Please,” Blaire cried, shrinking back. “I’ll do anything you want, just don’t hurt me.”

  “That’s right baby, you’re going to do everything we want,” Horse sneered as he began to roughly rip her clothes from her. Blaire fought back, until he slapped her, then she seemed to shrink in on herself, allowing him tear her clothes from her.

  As Andrew began to undress her, Ava said nothing, not resisting, her eyes flashing. “You ready for the fucking of your life?” Andrew sneered, twisting her breast.

  “Yeah. I want your cock in my mouth.”

  Andrew chuckled. “For some reason I don’t think that’s a good idea, but trust me, before we’re done, I will, and you’ll suck me good.”

  “Bring it on, Sport,” she challenged.

  “Take your pants off,” he ordered, and she complied.

  “Goddamn! I’m going to fuck that fine looking ass good!” Meat growled, slapping Ava’s round ass hard, making her cheek turn red.

  She turned toward him. “You want me?” she purred, stepping in close. Meat never saw it coming, Ava’s knee coming up hard and fast to connect solidly with his balls before she spun and ran.

  Meat groaned, his hands grasping himself as he fell to his knees, then toppled to his side, moaning softly before vomiting into the grass.

  Ava dashed for the opening that led to the parking lot, Andrew and the other three men running after her.

  Peyton started to run before her head was pulled roughly back by the hair as Honey jammed something hard into her side. “Just give me an excuse,” she muttered.

  “You’ll get yours. Someday you’ll be initiated, too, you stupid bitch.”

  “Maybe, but I’ll still have the pleasure of watching it happen to you first.”

  Andrew reached Ava first, giving her a shove in the back that sent her tumbling. She bound to her feet and turned to face him, her hands out in claws. “Get the fuck away from me!”

  Andrew grinned. “Everyone, back off. This bitch is mine.”

  He reached in and grabbed Ava’s arm, battling with her as he dragged her back into the center of the grassy area before throwing her down and falling on her.

  Peyton heard a splash and turned toward the sound as Blaire popped up in the pool, coughing and spluttering as Bone jumped in behind her, shoved her hard into the side of the pool, then threw his head back as the water began to churn. Peyton grimaced, her eyes filling of tears. She didn’t know which was sadder.

  Ava fighting tooth and nail, screaming, kicking, clawing and biting as she and Andrew struggled in the grass. He would fuck her for a few strokes before she dislodged him, then they would wrestle until he could subdue her enough to drive his cock into her and fuck her another few strokes. The three men waiting their turn stood over them, cheering Andrew on as they stroked their cocks.

  Then there was Blaire, her eyes empty, draped over the edge of the pool as Bone shoved his cock into her pussy or ass, Rod sitting on the edge of the pool holding her mouth over his cock.

  She heard the slap and Ava cry out as Andrew fucked her furiously, her hands pinned to the ground over her head. He hit her again, a ringing slap that made her head jerk to the side.

  “That’s going to be you,” Honey sneered.

  “And you, one day.”

&
nbsp; “I don’t think so.”

  “I know so. A month, maybe two, but sooner or later he’ll be tired of you and that will be you getting slapped around while he fucks you.”

  “We’ll see.”

  The raping went on for a long time, the men taking turns or fucking the women two and three at a time, the fight slowly leaving Ava. Several of the Knights women cried in sympathy and fear and many tried to turn away, to not watch, but the men tending them forced them to turn back and watch as their friends were taken over and over again.

  ***

  “What now,” Whiteshirt asked.

  “I don’t know. They probably have them at a motel somewhere,” Ironside replied as they waited for the light to change. They had been riding aimlessly for the last ten minutes as he tried to think of what to do.

  “But where? We can’t canvas the entire Saracens’ territory.”

  “I know! We need a clue, something, anything to go on.”

  “We should return to the clubhouse, maybe get the cops involved.”

  “No cops!” Ironside said. The light went green but there were no cars behind them, so he waited. “Why back to the clubhouse?”

  “We’re doing no good out here. Did you look to see if someone left a note, anything, that might tell us where they went?”

  “No, but do you think they knew?”

  Whiteshirt shrugged. “I doubt it, but we have to start someplace.”

  Ironside grit his teeth. It galled him to do nothing, but Whiteshirt was right. They were wasting time riding in circles. “Fuck!” he bellowed before roaring away, his brothers right behind him.

  ***

  The initiation of Ava and Blaire lasted over an hour, but it was finally over. Blaire was sitting on the edge of the pool, staring at the water with dead eyes, and Ava lay curled in the fetal position in the grass, sobbing softly, her lips swollen and bloody.

  Andrew stepped up to the tables that held the men’s clothes, panting but beaming. He looked like he had been in a fight with a wildcat, covered in clippings, grass stains, dirt, and scratches. He’d come twice while fucking Ava, but he was still rock hard and ready to initiate another bitch. He’d never tried to initiate so many women at one time, and he wondered how many he could break before he couldn’t get it up anymore.

  He picked up the note and read the next two names on the list as the men who had been guarding the women began to undress for their turn at initiation. This was an all hands on deck effort, and even a few of the club girls had joined them to watch.

  “What?” Bull cried into his phone, his pants unbuttoned but not yet off. “Are you shitting me?” He paused and listened a moment. “Stud! Jeanette’s on the phone! She’s at the clubhouse and she said it’s on fire and it looked like a bomb had gone off inside!”

  “Mother fuck!” Andrew screamed. “Get these bitches into the rooms! Meat! You, Bone and Rod watch them! Those fucking Knights are going to pay for this!”

  “I warned you!” Peyton cried in glee.

  Andrew whirled on her. “You’re next, you bitch!” he snarled as he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to him, causing her to stumble and fall over one of the tables. She cried out as he hauled her back to her feet by the hair and clamped his hand painfully tight on her face. “I’m going to initiate you personally until you’re fucking dead!” She twisted and turned a moment as she slipped the device into the front of her shorts, then grabbing his hand, trying to break his vice like grip. He held her, her face twisting in pain as he glared at her until he shoved her away, scooped up his clothes from where she had knocked them to the ground, and began to dress.

  She followed the rest of the girls, her eyes low, as they were herded into three rooms. “Where are Ava and Blaire?” she asked as the door slammed shut.

  “Not in here,” Sloane said softly. “Those fucking animals! I hope they rot in hell!”

  Peyton took Sloane by the arm and dragged her as far back in the room as she could, then reached inside her pants. “Cover me,” she said as she pulled out a cellphone.

  “Where’d you get that?”

  “It’s one of the Saracens.” She flipped the phone open and quickly dialed.

  ***

  “Ironside!”

  “It’s me, Peyton! We need help!”

  “Peyton! Where are you?”

  “I don’t know! A motel somewhere, but I don’t know the name. They’re raping us, Bjorn! They’ve just finished raping Blaire and Ava. They said we’re to replace the girls we took! You have to help us!”

  “Whiteshirt!” he bellowed as loudly as he could. “Tell me what you can see,” he said into the phone, then placed the phone on the table and pressed speaker as Whiteshirt arrived on the run.

  “Sloane!” she whispered. “Go to the window and tell me what you can see!” She turned her attention back to Ironside. “We’re in a motel. It’s older, two story, with rooms around this big grassy courtyard in the center with a pool.”

  “I can see a McDonald’s sign!” Sloane said.

  “We can see a McDonald’s sign,” she repeated into the phone. “What else?” she asked Sloane.

  “Uh…I can’t see anything else!” Sloane said looking this way and that out of the window. Peyton passed that along.

  “Can you see downtown?” Ironside asked.

  Peyton repeated the question. “No,” she said.

  “Jesus!” Whiteshirt said as he pounded on the computer. “Do you know how many McDonald’s there are in Cleveland?”

  “Peyton, Baby, you have to help us. We need something else. Anything!”

  “Sloane, can you see anything else? Anything at all?” she begged.

  “Fuck this,” Sloane said, jerking the door open and running.

  “Sloane!” Peyton screamed as Rod chased after her. She snapped the phone closed and dropped it back into her pants as Meat appeared in their door a moment later. “Don’t even think about it,” he growled, staring into the room.

  ***

  “Peyton?” Ironside said just as his phone bleeped, signaling the end of the call.

  “Don’t,” Whiteshirt said, putting his hand over the phone as Ironside flipped to the recent calls. “Don’t call her back. She hung up for a reason. If the phone rings, it could give her away. She’ll call back if she can.”

  Ironside stared at the phone. “You’re right,” he said, his eyes never leaving the phone.

  ***

  Less than two minute later, Sloane was tossed back into the room, her mouth bleeding. “Next one of you bitches that tries something like that will regret it,” Rod said, slamming the door so hard the wall shook.

  Sloane wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “There’s a place called Pueblo Hardware just down the road.”

  Peyton giggled. “You sneaky bitch! Watch the door!” She fished the phone out of her pants and called Ironside again. “Pueblo Hardware.”

  Whiteshirt typed on the computer, then zoomed in and switched to the satellite view, spotting a square motel built around a courtyard with a pool in the center. “That has to be it,” he said, tapping the screen with his finger. “The Mercury Motel.” He zoomed out and switched back to the map to see where it was in relation to their clubhouse. “Shit, that’s almost an hour away!”

  “Where are the Saracens?” Ironside asked.

  “They had to leave,” Peyton said with grin. “They found out about your surprise a few minutes ago. There’s only three of them here at the moment plus a few women. Oh! And Honey’s the mole!”

  “We know,” Ironside said. “Hang tight. We’ll be there in forty-five minutes. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” Peyton said. She snapped the phone closed then handed it to Sloane. “They’re coming, but you keep this, just in case.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “Knights!” Ironside bellowed. “Listen up. Peyton somehow got her hands on a phone and called me. We know where they are and we’re going to get them. We roll in two minutes! Lolly, Ham
mer, I need to see you.”

  His brothers walked over and he pulled them aside. “I want you to know Peyton said Ava and Blaire were raped.”

  “Those fuckers are dead!” Hammer snarled.

  “All of them,” Ironside agreed. “But I want you two to stay frosty until this is over. Don’t do something stupid. Your old ladies are going to need you now, more than ever. I need you to be here for them.”