The Ride (8 page)

Lil

            Pulling up to the club my arms are wrapped around Tank. Not so much as wrapped, but they're holding on barely. His hard stomach right under my fingers. My cheek rested on his back. He smells delicious like leather, spice, smoke, and man. It's a smell that would melt the panties off any girl. Me included. Swinging a big long thick leg off of the bike he gets off gracefully. “Come on sweets,” he orders softly. Hands wrap around my waist lifting me off of the bike. Setting me on my feet he smirks. There are some manners in there somewhere. “Thanks for the ride.” Shrugging my thanks off Tank slings a heavy arm over my shoulder hauling me to his side and into the club. “Sure thing baby.” Wrapped around Tank sends my body into all kinds of directions. Part of me wants to throw his big ass body down and fuck him right here on the cement of the parking lot. The other part of me wants to run for the hills screaming with the damage he could do to my ego and not to mention my lady parts. Barging his way through the door he pulls me right along with him. Arm keeping me tight to his side. A sense of safety and protection in the way he holds onto me. “Shots,” Peaches shouts at me as soon as I'm through the door. Her, Cali, and a few of the girls are sitting at the bar chatting and drinking. Looking up at Tank he smiles down at me. Blue eyes light and happy. Dimples threatening to soak my panties. Everything this man does affect my poor panties. “Up for a shot?” I ask him. Shaking his head he plants a kiss on my forehead. “Nah baby got shit to do.” Walking off he disappears into the back of the club. Sitting myself down next to Cali I get comfy. Both girls gape at me as soon as my ass touches the stool. Oh hell here we go.

            “What in the holy fuck is going on with you n' Tank?” Peaches inquires, arching a perfectly sculpted brow at me. That girl always digging for drama and gossip. Cali is smirking at me too. Hand on her hip waiting impatiently. Nosy bitches. “Nothin'. Just got a ride back.” I brush them off. They exchange a knowing look. These two are up to something, which is never a good thing. Pinning me with looks they're not letting me off easy. “Yeah that's not the only thing he wants you to ride,” Peaches giggles at her little joke. Cali laughs right along with her. “He wants that pussy,” Cali states firmly. “And those lips.” They're cackling and carrying on now. Each egging the other on. Both of them conspiring against me. “Oh, oh and her tits,” Peaches adds enthusiastically. I swear to an outsider sitting in on one of our conversation would be blushing and squirming in their seats. “Fuck you two,” I grumble into my empty shot glass. Hey weren’t we taking shots here? “Fuckin' is what ya two will be doin'.” Cali adds smartly. Both girls burst into laughter. High fives passed around like frat boys. “Shots, yeah?” I snap sliding my empty shot glass to Peaches. Happily she fills it ignoring my mood, but I have a feeling they're just getting started. “God I hear he's a beast in bed,” Peaches groans licking her lips. Cali fans herself dramatically. “I've
heard
him before. Jesus Christ it sounded painfully fun. Hours and
hours
of fun.” These two have lost their God damn minds. I'm not going to sleep with him. That's not what I'm here for, right? Gin is sitting not more than ten feet away while Peaches gushes over another man. He doesn't give a shit. This is normal. “Will you two shut up about Tank?” Both girls smile wickedly at me. Laughing to each other. A big rough hands slides up my back and into my hair. Fingers curl around the back of my neck. My body instantly heats up. Without turning around I know who it is. There is no need to look, I can feel him.

            Tank leans himself into my body. Resting against my back. His warmth soaks into my skin. That yummy smell invading my space. Oh please no more pantie melting. I'm not sure how much more my poor body can take. “What 'bout me?” he drawls, subdued amusement in his voice. Snapping my eyes up to my two loud mouthed friends I plead with my eyes that they keep their traps shut. No such luck. Oh Lord. They have that look in their eyes. Here it comes. They're up for causing more trouble again. “We were discussing you fuckin' Lil,” Peaches says like it’s no big deal, waving a hand dismissively. Just normal afternoon conversation. Just a conversation over afternoon tea. A deep laugh rumbles through him. It makes me smile. His laugh is deep and hardy. Filled with heart and easy delight. “What 'bout me fuckin' Lil?” He chuckles to himself, clearly finding this conversation amusing. It's like I'm not even in the room. They just keep right on talking about me. “How its gunna happen here real soon,” Cali chimes in. Sitting himself beside me on a bar stool he looks over at me. Bright blue eyes not looking at me, but in me. I wish I had another shot. Pointing to my glass I eye Peaches. “What do ya say babe?” he asks me. Seriously he asking my permission? Do I really even have a say in it? Refilling my glass I throw it back quickly before I answer him. “Soundin' like I don't have a say,” I quip back. Peaches and Cali giggle. Tank slaps his big hand on my thigh squeezing it tightly. Fingers digging into my leg. Well damn. There they go. My panties melting clean off of my body. “Fuckin' right babe. You don't.” Christ. Am I the only one who isn't delusional in this club? “Church motherfuckers,” My dad growls from the door way. “Bring it in.” Saved by my dad. Tank gives me one last look before heading in. Sagging into my stool I take a deep breath.

            Standing in the clubs kitchen I'm whipping up some whip cream for the pies I just bakes. The kitchen is pretty nice here. It's not great, but functional. All industrial with large stainless steel appliances. Cooking in here sometimes feels like cooking in a school kitchen or hell maybe even a prison. I mean I am cooking for a bunch of men children with criminal backgrounds. The rest of the club house pretty much matches the kitchen. All very industrial. Exposed brick, duct work, and pipes. Polished concrete floors. The main room is large, making up most of the large twenty-five thousand square foot building. Four large leather couches and ten leather chairs on one side of the room. Of course there are two stripper poles in that corner right along with the TV's. Doesn't every man cave need stripper poles? In another corner are a few pool tables. Decorating one wall is a row of four large sixty inch TV's two for surveillance, the other two for cable. On the opposite side a long bar runs the length of the place. To the side of the bar are a few bar tables. It's all very man cave-ish. Bike photos, pictures of past and present members, rowdy family trips and barbeque pictures adorn the walls. Behind the bar a large Hell's Disciples flag and American flag. Club and motorcycle memorabilia on some nice black shelves. Usually you'll find a greasy bike part or two sitting on a couch or table. Beer bottles, shot glasses and discarded clothes adorn other surfaces. Hell you may find a bike or two inside. Upstairs is a loft space that overlooks the entire ground floor. Up there are some more TV's, leather chairs, couch, and poker tables. That space used to be the kids area. Toys, TV's, and other kid crap. Not many young kids around anymore so it's now back to being part of the man cave. I spent a good deal of my childhood up there. At the back and wrapping around one side of the compound are the bedrooms. Fourteen in total. One bathroom between each two bedrooms. Dad's office right to the left of the front door. Another spare room next to that, it's always locked. Out back a large yard about the same size as the building, it is gated off by twenty foot high brick barricades. The front of the building is a paved open court. Right off of the club is a giant six bay shop adorned with a mechanics dream worth of tools, lifts, machines, and spare bike and vehicle parts of every style and kind. Pretty sure this place in a grown man’s fort. Everything a giant man child could and would need in these two steel building. The entire compound is gated by an electric fence. Dad asked me to cook so that's what I'm doing now. Chili is on the stove, corn bread's in the oven, and apple pies are cooling on the island. Loud laughter drifts into the kitchen. In walks the guys, church is over. Tank, Happy, Gin, Stitch, and my pops meander in. “Gotta take a run,” my pops says while walking out the back door. “Smells good in here,” Stitch says plopping down on a stool at the butcher block island. Tank sets himself down on the counter right next to me. “Baby,” he greets me in a suggestive drawl. Smirk firmly in place. Broke out the heavy artillery, dimples and all. Dipping a finger in the whip cream he pops it into his mouth. “Fuckin' good,” he groans. Well there go those panties of mine again. Damn I like those ones too. Swatting his hand away he grins at me. “Sup sis,” Gin mumbles smacking a kiss to my cheek. “Where's the bitch?” he asks looking for Peaches. Shrugging I tell him, “in town with Cali. Said somethin' about the mall.” Rolling his eyes he sets himself across from Tank on the island. “So hearin' you 'n Tank talkin' 'bout fuckin,” he states matter-of-factly. Jesus Christ. “Not sure how I feel 'bout that sis.” Does everyone know about that conversation? Freaking soap opera around this joint. People with their big ass mouths. Throwing my hands up in the air I spin around and face Tank, ready to give it to him. Lopsided smile on those lips, eyes twinkle in trouble. The fight in me slips the second I see set eyes on that sweet smile. Damn him. “It's inevitable babe.”

            Riding in to town with a prospect I can't help but stare at him. I think his name is prospect Jones or something. Ran out of milk and a few other things so here I am stuck with a prospect running right back to town. Studying the prospect I realize he looks just like that kid from the show
The Middle
, Brick. All nerdy with an oddly large head. I think I'll call him that. Prospect Brick. He's pretty quiet and polite. Can't be more than nineteen. He'll work. If I've got to be stuck with a prospect at least it isn't a creepy one like Kash. Prospect Brick fallows me through the store like a good little prospect. Even carrying my bags like a Southern gentleman. I like this one. “Thanks for helping me,” I smile up at him. Nodding his head he smiles to himself. “Any time ma'am.” Checking out we head out of the store. Rounding the corner to the truck everything happens in a blur. A group of men with guns surround us pushing towards the alley behind the store. The only thing in real time is the smirk on the guy’s mangled face as he snarls at me. Slowly a nasty disfigured lip curls into a sickening grin. Scars cover a good portion of his face, like someone got him with a rake. “Look what we got here boys. Low's little girl. You a beauty ain’t yous,” he sneers at me. He sounds to be in charge. He's the only one talking. Reaching a hand out he touches my cheek. I try to keep my head still. Try not to jerk away. Running a finger down my cheek to my neck he sighs. I hold back the need to gag. I feel dirty from his touch. Everything about him is sleazy and sordid. Cold scratchy fingers touch me. His touch is awful. “Fuck you. Don't fuckin' touch me,” I growl coldly standing my ground. He's wearing a cut, but I can't make out the colors. All I know is he's not a Disciple and I'm in trouble. Prospect Brick steps in front of me, but scare face is quicker. Snatching me up by the arm he tugs me over to him knocking Brick into his guys. The fight in me takes over. “Get the fuck away from me,” I shout with a struggle. Trying to pull away from him. I'm fucked if I don't fight back. I've got to get away or at least try. Swinging my foot up I bring it right into his balls. Grunting he drops my arm instantly. Coughing and gasping he paces a few times hunched over holding his stomach. “You a stupid bitch aintchu',” he growls menacingly at me. Straightening up he levels me with one look. Shit. I don't have time to react. With a swift swing he back hands me across the face. I can hear the mean crack ringing in my ears. Pain radiates through my face and into my jaw. The pain stings to the bone. Stumbling back a foot or two prospect Brick is able to get in front of me, but it's too late. I hear it before I see it. A loud crack of a gun rings out. The sound deafening. Blood everywhere. Red, warm, sticky blood trickles down my body. Slumping against me the prospect falls into me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My mind goes blank, zeroing in on life. Is he alive? Lord let him be alive. I know it's a long shot. I can't look. I don't want to know. Terrible memories rush back in. Paralyzed with fear I can't move. I'm stuck. Memories of Josh's burlap sack covered head. On his knees.
I'm sorry,
is all I heard before blood. Lots of blood. Blood everywhere. All over me. All over the ground. Rooted to the cement I can't think, let alone move. Scar face grabs me around my neck. Feet dangling beneath me the ground slips away. Slamming me against the concrete wall of the store. My head crashes into the wall with enough force to almost knock me out. Hanging somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness my mind fights to stay with it. I claw my nails at his hands desperately trying to loosen his grip on my neck. The strength in his grip slowly crushing my windpipe.  “Got a little message for your pops,” his voice low. Speaking right into my face. Eyes wild and bloodshot. Squirming only makes his grip tighter. I can't breathe. My vision blurs. I can feel my head growing lighter by the second. My heart hammering its way out of my chest. “Listen ya stupid fuckin' cunt,” he growls shaking me a little. My head hits the wall again. “We want ours. He wants what's his. If not next time it'll be your head I blow off.” Dropping his grip on my neck he brings a fist right into my side. Fuck. Slumping into the wall my ass hits the ground hard. A boot connects to my ribs and everything hits black.

5

Tank

           
Lil and that goofy ass prospect left two fucking hours ago. Shopping is what she said. Two hours. Two whole God damn hours. What the hell you do at a store for two hours? She only needed some milk and a few other things. Forty-five minutes is how long it should have taken. Milk takes ten minutes, not two God damn hours. Where the fuck are they now? I've been sitting and standing. Sitting and standing. This bitch has me antsy and twitchy. Any second I might lose it. Something just feels off. Shit ain't right. Stomping off to Low's office I hear Peaches scream before I make it to the door. My heart sinks. Pushing my way back into the room everyone is hollering and talking at once. Looking around my eyes find her. The worst thing possible smacks me in the God damn face. I feel fucking sick to my stomach. Lil's leaning against the door frame of the back door. Blood everywhere. All over her clothes. Blood dripping down her body onto the floor. For a moment I'm frozen watching the blood drip. Small little drops of blood. Drop. Drop. Drop. Dropping from Lil. She needs me. I swear to fucking God I lose it. Peaches is at her side with tears and all. Reaching her in one long step I'm not sure how I make it to her without losing my shit. “Jesus Christ!” My body just taking over. I don't think I've ever been this freaked out before and I've seen some scary shit. “Lil, you okay?” Scooping her up carefully I walk her to the bar. Setting her down tears trickle down her cheeks. Jesus fucking Christ. “What the fuck happened to you?” I can even hear the shake in my voice. I don't give a fuck. How bad is she hurt? Looking her over I can see bright red and purple raised welts across her face. A few small gashes on her cheek. Rings. A fucking hand hit her face. Deep bloody split in those pretty lips. My eyes fall further. Purple and bluish finger marks around her neck. Fucking chock marks. Someone’s dead. Dead, dead. Like head blown off, brains on the fucking ceiling, dead. Blood all over her chest and stomach. She's bleeding. I actual hesitate, worried at what I might find. Reaching a hand out to her she flinches away from me. That shit stings, but I have to see how bad she's hurt. I can't let my ego get in the way right now. “Low!” I shout for him. Jesus Christ where is he? “Low!” Peaches is whimpering and sniffling from beside Lil. “Oh God,” she mutters on a chocked sob. Taking Lil's shirt in my hand I pull in over her head carefully. Letting out a held in breath I feel marginally better. No blood, no wounds. But big angry fucking bruises on her stomach and ribs. “They …
they …
he's dead,” she whispers. Eyes watery, voice thick and horse.