Bad Boys of Romance - a Biker Anthology (64 page)

Wish

We gathered like moths to the lights off the interstate to eat. It’d been a while since I’d taken to the road. I felt revived but hungry as hell. Good thing it was all you can eat. “I don’t eat pizza,” Emery admitted, piling her salad plate high. I’d filled up on deep-dish pepperoni while Emery enjoyed her veggies. Sometimes it takes a whole tankful of fuel before you can think straight. I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea to take Emery to The Banshee’s home anymore, but I couldn’t back out now.

“Why don’t you live a little?” I slid my plate toward her.

She picked off the pepperonis and patted the pizza with a napkin before taking a tiny bite. I looked down, amused but hiding my smile. Emery was like no one I’d ever met. I didn’t understand a woman who wouldn’t eat. The place didn’t serve beer, but it was just as well because we’d ride on to Shirley’s place for our real celebrating. Leaving the pizzeria, the Heelz picked the folks they wanted to take back with them and told the others to keep their knees in the breeze.

On a couple hundred acres beside the lake in Seville, Florida The Banshee led her own community. Like my brothers and I in Arizona, the Heelz treasured their home away from home and like I had, some of the women lived here year round. Seville looked like hell with everyone gone to lunch. On the main road of her property, Shirley ran a no name bar slash gas station slash grocery store that catered to club members and their guests. Opening the doors, the smell of weed, smoke and sweaty leather hit me. You’d never know it was a female biker gang’s place if you didn’t already know. The Heelz kept plenty of tough looking men around. Right away, I spotted a couple Mutherfukers and straightened my back.

“Molly?” Shirley offered us her new favorite drug as soon as Emery and I joined her at the bar.

“No thanks,” I said as I reached for her open beer, taking a drink.

“Get Scar and his lady friend a drink, Twink.”

“What do you want,” a petite Asian woman with full sleeves of colorful tattoos appeared behind the bar. In a revealing dress instead of a cut, she was one of Shirley’s hang arounds.

“Just a couple of beers.” I put my arm around Emery.

The tiny woman stared me down. “Where’s Kym?” She addressed Shirley, and Shirley looked to me.

I gave Shirley a telling look. “Can I talk to you in private?”

“That’s not how it works here Scar.” Shirley sat down her beer. “No back room deals. You need to answer Twink, she asked you a question.”

Twink cocked her head. “Yeah, why’s this bitch wearing my sister’s clothes, her diamond earrings.”

I stood, and seized the back of the girl’s head. “You better watch how you talk about my lady.” I slammed her forehead into the bar, knocking her out. Twink’s limp body slinked to the floor, landing with a low thud.

“Fuck, Scar, for a minute I thought you’d gone soft.” Shirley eyed Emery and took my hand. “I think we will talk in private, excuse us sweetheart.” Shirley led me through the waves of sweaty bikers until we reached a locked door. She paused, telling someone to, “take care of the girl at the bar.”

“You better mean get her a drink.” I sat down in Shirley’s high backed leather chair and propped my feet up on her desk.

Right away, she took off her cut, next, the tank top. She started taking off her leather pants. “I’m not the jealous type, babe. I’m just worried for you.”

“You, worried for me? I’m worried for you seeing as your girl Kym sold me out in Daytona.”

Shirley slipped down her thong, flinging it away with her big toe. “What?”

“Yeah, but no matter, Amun’s dead.” I reached in my pocket, pulling out his signature pinky ring, tossing it on the desk; I’d left the finger attached. She slapped her hand over her mouth, acting disgusted. I rolled my eyes; she’d seen worse, done worse, bitch forgot, I knew her. “Why don’t you sit? We have to talk”

“How ‘bout I sit on your lap and we’ll talk about whatever pops up.” She sung as she came over to me in nothing but her bra, undoing it when her tits were in my face.

“I’ll be heading west in the morning, once we settle up.” They dropped slightly and floated midair, like all fake boobs.

“Shut up, baby. I missed you, and just can’t wait until later.” My feet hit the ground, and I sat up in the chair. She straddled my lap, unzipped my pants and brought my cock out, stroking it as she licked my neck. Yeah, I was already hard. A man can’t see a set like hers and not fly his flag. Besides, Shirley was a familiar comfort, one I couldn’t refuse. I shoved inside of her, and it felt like going home. More than a friend, she’d been like a mother to me, but she wasn’t my mother. I wiped the befuddling cock blocking thought out of my mind. Squeezing her ass as she bounced up and down like she was winning the Kentucky Derby, I buried my face between her massive breasts as I thrust upward with her rhythm. Louder than usual, she wailed like I was killing her. I got off from the ego boost alone.

Not one for pillow talk, Shirley hopped off as quickly as she’d hopped on.

Zipping my pants, I was ready to get my money and leave. “We had a deal, remember?”

She bent to pick her thong off the floor, showing me the mess I’d dumped in her. “Your money’s at my house. You can pick it up later.”

Fuck, she expected more. My hand was suddenly on the doorknob. I needed a beer. Fuck, I needed some whiskey.

Shirley tugged her shirt back on. “Who’s this girl?”

“I told you, she’s my lady.” I wasn’t stupid enough to change my story now.

“Come on Scar, you can’t lie to me, I know you. I know the only woman you ever have on that mind of yours is Halley. That is if Anne hasn’t changed your plans.”

“Listen, Anne’s a good fuck, period. A man gets lonely. I don’t want this life for Halley, so my plans haven’t changed none. Anne, hell, I’ll kill her before I’d let her mess up my future with Halley.”

“And she won’t mind that you just fucked me?”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Opening the door I almost ran right into Emery’s pissed off face. Shirley cackled and Emery stomped off. Fuck, “taking care of the girl,” must translate to “have her listen to us fuck,” in bitch language. Fucking women! I couldn’t run after Emery and show Shirley I actually cared about someone, so I headed to the bar to drown in drink.

Legs greeted me, offering me the stool beside her, showing me pictures of her grandkids on her smart phone. Twink appeared behind the bar again with the beginnings of a black eye and a blood crusted nose.

“Did Kym tell you she planned to kill me?” I asked her as she poured my whiskey.

She leaned over it and spit, releasing it real slow, her saliva making a stream down to the whiskey. “Fuck you.”

Legs squeezed her wrist threatening to break it. “You should have been warned, Scar’s practically one of us. Besides, you’re not patched, he is. You need to show him respect or expect consequences. Give him your answer.”

I took the glass anyway, downing it in one drink, smacking my lips, exaggerating my pleasure. “Just like I like it.”

“I haven’t heard from her in a month. I know nothing.” She was probably lying.

I told Legs to drop it. “Let her go.”

“Did you kill my sister?” Her eyes begged me to say no.

“No.” It was the truth.

Twink walked off, satisfied, and Legs gave me a knowing look. “Still having problems?”

“No, I killed her.” I hated to lie to Legs, but I didn’t know who I could trust anymore. Shirley’s mom knew all about my inability to off a lady. Hell, she knew more about me than I did. After all, she saved my life.

I downed a couple more whiskeys, listening to stories from Twink and catching up with Legs. I started sipping a beer before I gave Legs a kiss on the cheek and got up to go look for Emery.

“Don’t be a stranger Scar. You’re always welcome here. No matter what happens. You hear?” Where Shirley had been like a mother, Legs had been like a grandmother. I could do no wrong in her eyes.

“I’ll remember that.”

Wading through the smoke and dwindling crowd, I spotted her sitting on a man’s lap. I saw red but measured my initial reaction to bash his skull. He wasn’t just any man. He was Shirley’s best motherfucking friend from the Mutherfukers, Luci, short for Lucifer. He moved Emery’s hair out of her face and kissed her neck right in front of me as she giggled. First fucking time I’d ever known her to giggle.

Cashing in a favor had been a mistake. The General said there were no allies between outlaws, and he was right. They’d use any thing they could against us. I’d known it’d come with a price but I’d asked anyway.

Luci was big and dumber than a bowl of hair. I mean real big, like weightlifter, Mr. Universe big, tanned bronze to boot. His matching hair pulled back in a ponytail, I could see seven teardrops on his neck and his “MM” in the middle of a spider web. With a jacket longer and more violent than mine, he’d try to intimidate me with my brothers not around. “Hey, Scar, what’s it been two months? You ever going back to daddy?”

I ignored him. General also said I’d not survive a Nomad if I didn’t learn patience. I’d bide my time, this time. “Fucker, I think you got something of mine.”

“Anne tells me you said she should live a little.” Luci took a swig of his Tecate. “Seeing she’s got no affiliation as far as I can see, I figured I’d introduce her to a real man.”

“Funny, since she’s sittin’ on you.” I sat down, my fists tightening under the table.

Shirley laughed too loud, hitting the table with the palm of her hand. I thought about shooting Luci in the foot, but for once, despite the laugh, I didn’t know whose side Shirley would take.

Shirley was cozied up to the other Mutherfuker, a Latino known as Little Ricky. No bigger than tits on a chigger, he was frying size. “Not cool man, not cool.” His accent was thick. Wearing more jewelry than a woman, he was Luci’s bitch, as far as I was concerned. I fought the urge to say so. Shirtless besides his cut, showing off Jesus and Mary on his chest and guns tattooed onto his forearms, he had three dots under his eye.

Shirley was probably jacking him off under the table. I’m not saying she’s a slut but she’s been under more sheets than the Klan. I missed the security of running with my brothers. I was alone, the closest God at least three hours away. When I didn’t take the bait, Luci got up and Emery slinked over to me, confused. Shirley touched my hand as she stood too. “Bring Anne over to my place. We’re having a little private party.” She winked, and left with a Mutherfuker on each arm.

I didn’t know if she just invited us to their orgy or she wanted me to kill these men. Emery sat on my lap this time. Leaning against me, she smelled of tequila. “What the fuck was that?” I pushed her off me, and she landed on her ass on the floor. The Heelz turned their heads until they saw it was me and Emery wasn’t one of theirs.

“You had your fun tonight, figured I could have mine too,” she chided, getting up and dusting herself off. She started to walk away, but I couldn’t have her making a fool outta me in front of the Heelz. Yanking her by the hair of her head, I dragged her out of there, scuffing her red heels as I drug her. Kicking and screaming, Emery fought the whole way until she hit my balls. I doubled over. “Fucking cunt!” She got away, ditching her shoes, running down the dark alley where I’d parked my bike. I caught up with her and she backed up onto it.

She was madder than a bobcat caught in a piss fire. “So you’re fucking that old bitch?”

“So,” I challenged. “What about it?” She’d been wiggling around on Luci’s lap but I didn’t say it. I grabbed her upper arms and turned her around, bending her over the bike. Holding her head down by clutching her long hair, I reached around, unzipping her pants. I yanked them down to her knees. Her bare ass shined in the moonlight. I tightened my grip on her hair before I slapped her ass with my cupped hand. The sound echoed in the alley as I lit up her ass until she was crying from pain or the humiliation. I turned her around and let her go. “Get dressed. We have an orgy to attend.”

“Fuck you.” Mascara ran down her face as she brought up her pants. “I wish you’d just kill me already.”

The words cut me deep, hearing she still wanted to die. I’d wished that she’d been telling the truth before, and that she had changed her mind about our deal. “Wish in one hand and shit in the other,” I mumbled as I lit a smoke.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“We have a deal remember? You do as I say until I decide to do the job you hired me for.”

“Yeah, I remember. I’m your whore.”

“That’s right, you’re mine and don’t you go forgetting it.”

Pinching Emery’s neck, I marched her to Shirley’s cabin not knowing what was in store for us. I tucked my gun in my back holster and slipped my closed blade into Emery’s back pocket. “Smile,” I demanded as I knocked on the door of The Banshee’s abode. Naturally, it was the nicest of all the cabins on the property, small but surrounded by the most land and somewhat secluded from the others. Shirley greeted us in nothing but her frilly underwear. I heard heavy metal coming from tiny speakers on the coffee table. We followed her in before she slipped behind us to lock the door. Luci and Little Ricki were on the couch in nothing but their jeans, tying their arms. They were getting ready to shoot something.

“Good to know your appetite for sex, drugs and rock and roll hasn’t changed.” That’s when I heard the click.