by Tillie Cole
He tried to lose his smile but failed. “‘Bout time, Styx. ’Bout fuckin’ time.”
I looked at Ky’s damn smiling face and shook my head. Let’s go. The son of a bitch was a real pain in my ass.
As we entered the bar, the psycho trio shot to their feet.
“Fuckin’ Prez!” Viking shouted, walking toward me, arms wide. “Taking on the Nazis on his own and living to tell the tale!” Viking tried to pick me up, but I punched the redheaded fucker in his stomach.
AK slung an arm around my shoulder as Flame stopped in front of me, muscles twitching. “Did you kill ’em all?” he asked with urgency.
I nodded, the flame tattoos on his neck dancing beneath his bulging veins.
“Did they suffer?” he asked coldly, his pitch-black eyes wide with excitement. The brother looked like a walking demon, irises so dark his pupils were lost in one black pool against white.
Badly, I signed.
Flame broke out in a wide smile, tipped his head back, and raked his over-long nails down his arms. “Fuck yeah,” he hissed, blood beginning to spill.
One by one, every brother in the chapter greeted me, leaving only Rider at the end of the bar. I met his eyes. He stared right back, then stood and came over.
“Good to see you made it out safe, Prez.” He held out his hand for me to shake. I glowered at his outstretched arm and thought of him back in my room, forbidding Mae to bathe me. My lip curled in disgust. She’s my fuckin’ woman.
“Prez, come on, brother. I was wrong. I get it now. She’s yours,” he said just for us to hear. I reluctantly reached out to grip his hand. My eyes said it all to him. Back the fuck off Mae or we’ll have problems. Okay?
The brother nodded his head. He knew what I was saying.
“You been fuckin’ your bitch?” Viking said from behind me, sniffing the air. He looked at me and smiled. “I can always smell new pussy, and you’re stinking of that shit, Prez!” He laughed loud for everyone to hear.
Rider ripped his hand away from mine and he staggered back, slumping to his seat, eyes down. The brother was in a whole world of pain.
Ky appeared at my shoulder. A second or two later, Viking was knocked out on the floor.
“Shit, Ky!” Viking shouted from the ground, rubbing his chin. “Stop with the fuckin’ punching!”
“Then start shutting the fuck up!” Ky shouted back.
I signaled for the brothers to move in. Ky stood beside me, ready to translate, as the brothers watched us with alert expressions.
Pit’s a rat, I signed, as Ky’s voice carried the intel round the room.
Deathly silence.
I’ve thought we’ve had one for a while now. Ky found the evidence today. Of the whole fuckin’ thing. Leaked details on the Russian deal, the ride out shooting, and the Nazis near-attempt on our compound tonight.
“Who’s he working for? The Feds? Another MC? Mexicans?” Viking asked. The idiot shit gone, stone-cold killer in its place.
I shook my head. Don’t know. Ky called Pit in. He should be here—” The sound of a bike rolling into the yard stopped me dead. Right about fuckin’ now, it seems.
Flame growled and began punching his fist in the other hand. “Is he mine? Please say he’s mine. I want him to be mine.”
The door opened and Flame flew at Pit, the prospect didn’t even see the first fist coming… or the second… or the third. Flame picked Pit up off the floor, his feet dangling as he was smacked up against the wall.
“You fuckin’ piece of scum!” Flame ground out through clenched teeth. “Did you think you could turn coat without us finding out? Without us stripping off your skin, piece by piece to eat your flesh for barbecue?”
Pit’s face reddened and shock spread all over his features. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about! Flame, I don’t!”
Get him to the shed. Now. Ky voiced my command.
In minutes, we were all in the shed out back, Flame and AK strapping Pit to the chair in the center of the room.
Pit looked my way. “Prez, honestly, believe me. I don’t know what you think I’ve done, but I ain’t no rat. I’m all in. This club’s my life. I ain’t got nothing else.”
Ky flew at Pit, his hands braced on each arm of the slaughter chair. “Found shit in your room, brother. Security tapes and a cell phone with messages showing dates of all the drops, the location of the ride out, everything. Tank, Smiler, and Bull are out tracing the receiving number now, but I’m thinking it’s gonna come back to the Feds or Senator Collins. Am I right?”
Pit paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he screamed. “What tapes? What cell? I didn’t have shit in my room!”
I walked to my knife cabinet, feeling Pit’s eyes on me the entire way. Fucker was lying, his eyes twitching all over the place.
“Styx. You have to believe me, please…” he pleaded.
Finding my Bundeswehr knife, I moved before him as Flame ripped open Pit’s shirt, his thin body gonna prove all kinds a’ interesting to carve up. Less fat, harder to miss organs. Then again, he was gonna die tonight regardless. So who gave a shit?
Spinning the handle in my hands, I pressed the tip to his sternum and began dragging it down, the stench of copper filling the room, Pit’s screams ricocheting off the high walls.
I stood back after a few minutes admiring my signature Hangmen “H” now forever imbedded in his chest. Now everyone will know who he fucked with. Flame ripped the knife from my hand, wiping the blood across his now bare and scarred torso, laughing hysterically.
He got in Pit’s face. “Who’re you working for?”
Pit’s head rolled to the side and he puked all over the floor. Flame held Pit’s cheeks back upright. “Who are you working for, motherfucker!?”
“No… no one. I… swear. I SWEAR!”
The shed doors burst open and Bull, Tank, and Smiler walked through. “Number was traced to… have a guess…” Tank said glaring at Pit.
Seething, I spat at Pit’s feet.
“The great fuckin’ Senator Collins! Our insider in the office tells me several men in suits have been turning up once a week for the last few months to ‘do business.’ Insider thinks they are ATF related or maybe mafia,” Tank informed.
Mafia? I signed.
Tank shrugged. “Could explain the shift in activity. New blood. New tactics. It sure ain’t nothin’ we’ve seen before.”
Stomping over to Pit, I took my knife back off Flame and held it to Pit’s throat.
“Prez, it ain’t true,” he croaked out. Clenching my fists, I turned and threw the knife into the wall.
Glancing over my shoulder, I gave the nod to Ky to take down the rat. One by one, the brothers had their fun until Pit was just a bloodied heap on the chair.
I looked over to Rider, who was leaning against the wall, fury in his gaze as he watched Pit. I held up my hand to stop the brothers.
Ky whistled and the room fell silent. I walked back to Pit, holding a new boning knife. His teeth were littered on the floor, eyes sealed shut with blood, his arms and ribs broken in pieces.
Circling Pit’s chair, not once did I take my eyes off Rider, who shifted nervously in my constant glare. Stopping behind Pit, I lifted my knife and plunged it into his right shoulder. Why? Some shit I’d read the Romans did.
Hands now free, I signed. This is what happens to a brother who turns coat. No brother works undercover for the Feds or another club… and no brother fucks with another brother’s property…
Rider’s eyes widened, but he stayed still—he got my meaning. I signaled for Flame to pass me another knife, and I stabbed it into Pit’s left shoulder. The brother stopped moving, just the sound of erratic wheezes slipping from his lips.
I retrieved my knife, my treasured German blade. I stepped four paces in front of Pit and, on the turn, launched the five-inch blade arcing through six yards of clear air. The knife flew true and drove in where intended, right between Pit’s fuckin’ rat eyes.
>
Pit, the rat, went to the boatman with no dimes on his eyes.
The brothers watched me leave, mouths gaping as I stormed out of the shed. No one dared follow. My stomach was churning with the betrayal by Pit. I felt sick at the thought of a rat slipping under the radar for nearly a fuckin’ year. He’d infiltrated MY club and shared intel on OUR business.
I smashed through the door of my room and made a beeline for the bed. I froze. Mae was fast asleep, naked. Her back-length straight black hair fanned around the pillow.
Fuckin’ stunning. And she was all mine. That calmed me the fuck down.
Mae shifted in her sleep and a long, slim leg kicked over the sheet… her tight pussy now on show. I slipped off my jeans and crawled over her relaxed body. Skirting down her thigh, I pushed her legs open. Still unconscious, she moaned quietly.
Smirking at the thought of what I was about to do, I laid a row of kisses from her knee to her thigh, passing the scars that once had me running for the hills. Mae’s hands suddenly threaded through my hair; as she looked down, those hooded wolf eyes were fixed on my pussy-hungry lips.
“Styx…” she moaned in a sleepy voice.
I didn’t waste any time and took a long lick along her slit. Mae’s long groan told me how much she liked it. My hands gripped her thighs and I dived in, relentlessly sucking at her clit, my finger plunging in her pussy. Her hands became frantic in my hair with every lick, every suck, every kiss, every thrust.
My woman fuckin’ loved it.
Mae’s breath shortened in labored gasps and her thighs tensed around my head. Momentarily, she stilled; then a scream ripped from her throat. My tongue slowed into lazy circles and I wound her down. Drawing back, I smiled at her flushed-out body.
“Styx… what was…?” She trailed off, squeezing her thighs together and rolling her eyes in pleasure. “Lord…”
My hands crawled beside her head on the mattress until my whole body hovered over her. “You l-liked it, babe? L-liked me eating y-your wet pussy?”
“Yes! Styx… yes! But…” Her gaze dropped as her hands covered her scars.
I pressed a kiss to her lips, pulled back, and declared, “Th-the scars d-don’t mean sh-shit.”
Tears filled her eyes and she pulled me beside her onto the bed, then launched into my arms. We stayed silent for a long while.
“Did you get your… business sorted?” she tentatively enquired.
“D-done,” I answered curtly.
Mae leaned on her elbows and stared up at me. “Can I ask what the business was?”
I shook my head, signaling an emphatic “no.”
Mae sighed loudly, indicating her disappointment.
“Way c-club life is, b-babe. Old ladies d-don’t get involved in club sh-shit. Same for y-you too.”
She slumped down, now dejected. “Okay.”
I ran my hand up and down her spine, staring unseeing at the brown ceiling, just thinking shit through, when Mae said, “Play me a song, Styx. Sing to me.”
I smiled and, kicking my leg off the mattress, fetched my Fender. I held it out for my woman to take. Her brow furrowed and her nose twitched. Stifling a groan, I placed the guitar in her hands. “P-play.”
“Will you continue to teach me?” she asked with a knockout fuckin’ smile.
I sat down on the mattress beside Mae and nodded.
I will teach her how to play.
Chapter Twenty
Mae
One Month later…
“One more box, honey,” Beauty said as she carried a large brown box of men’s biker leathers toward me.
“Sure, no problem,” I replied. Beauty stood beside me in her tight red leathers and black Hangmen tank. She wore her fitted Property of Tank cut too. In fact, she rarely took it off.
Four weeks had passed. Four weeks of being with Styx, exploring each other’s bodies, riding on the back of his bike, tasting the heady rush of freedom. And four weeks of him teaching me how to play the guitar. I truly loved it. Music had become my passion. My obsession. Each set of chords moved something within me; when I played music, I felt like I had truly found myself, found the person I was always meant to be. Sharing that love with Styx only made my passion more intense.
Styx had even begun schooling me in ASL. I hated not being able to communicate with him when we were in the company of other people, so I reminded Styx to teach me sign at every opportunity. Beauty had helped me too.
I also had a job. I persuaded Styx to let me work for Beauty now that Pit had been… disposed of… and the threat to the club was gone. I tried very hard not to dwell on that side of things. I could not bear to imagine Styx that way; so aggressive, so brutal. I knew I was being naïve, but I wanted everything to be positive and settled for a while. And Styx was nothing but beautiful with me.
Styx had been reluctant to let me work, Beauty’s store being away from him and the compound. He worried the outside world would be too much for me, but ultimately, he allowed it and I adored him for it. He understood I needed to experience life beyond him… beyond the club. Beauty had taken me under her wing and I had been working in her store, Ride, for two weeks. Every single day, Styx would drive me to work on the back of his Harley and pick me up at the end of the day to take me home.
It was all so… normal. I cherished feeling normal. When you have been cast out by people your entire life, normalcy becomes… beautiful.
The leather uniform I had to wear at Ride was… different: tight black leathers and a black skin-tight Hangmen tank, but I actually kind of loved that too. I was gradually building my own life with a man I adored and friends with whom I enjoyed spending my days. Most days, Letti would drop by the store and “shoot the shit,” as only she could say. Letti worked in the bike garage next door with Bull, Tank, and a few others who I did not really know too well yet.
All in all, life was progressing well. That is apart from Rider. After Styx was injured, Rider went on a long run to Louisiana and several other states on club business. I had not heard from him since and I missed him so much. I missed talking to him. I missed laughing with him. He had not even told me goodbye.
Beauty placed a cup of steaming coffee beside me, readying herself to help me shelve the rest of the leathers. “So Styx picking you up today?” she asked, striking up a conversation.
“Yes.” I checked the clock on the wall behind the counter and smiled. “He should be here anytime.”
“You okay to work again tomorrow, darlin’? We’ve been swamped lately.”
I beamed a huge smile at my friend. “Of course! I love it here. I am not good at anything except folding garments, but I enjoy keeping busy all the same.”
“Hell, girl, you’re the best shop girl I got. The cult you grew up with may have been backward as all hell, but they sure taught you some damn good domestic skills!” Beauty stopped and looked at me. “Shit! I’m sorry, Mae, sometimes my mouth just runs away!”
I could not help but laugh. “It is okay. You are right. We did have to perform our chores well or risk punishment. Believe me, we all became quick studies.”
Beauty’s blue eyes filled with sympathy. “Mae, I know you never talk about what happened back there, but I’m here if you ever want to. I won’t tell no one, not a soul.”
Clutching a pair of wide leather pants to my chest, I swallowed back a lump in my throat. “That means so much to me. Thank you.”
Beauty wrapped her arm around me and squeezed before quickly letting go.
We went back to work in silence.
“You remind me of my friend,” I said quietly, a short time later.
“Really?” Beauty stopped in her task and smiled my way.
“Yes. Her name is Delilah, or Lilah, as I know her. She is beautiful with long blond hair and blue eyes. Beautiful… just like you.”
I could feel Beauty watching me, but I continued shelving clothes, feeling a little exposed, unwilling even to glance her way.
“Do you miss her?” she asked soft
ly.
My eyes closed and a pang of searing pain shot through my chest. “Incredibly so, I… I…” My eyes darted to Beauty, then quickly away. “My eldest sister, Bella… died. This is why I left commune. I wanted… I asked Lilah to join me, but she refused to leave. She was scared. My younger sister, Maddie, is still there also. I miss them both so much that sometimes when I think of them, I find it impossible to breathe. I am here, free, experiencing life and in love with the most incredible man. And they are there in that prison… alone.”
“Mae,” Beauty whispered sadly, rubbing her hand along my back. I continued. “I believe I shall see them again someday. I pray every night that I shall. They are my family. But… they would not leave with me. They believe in The Order and are too afraid of the world outside.”
“Have you ever thought about trying to find the commune? The club would help you get them back.”
I started, my heart kicking into a too-fast rhythm. “No! I do not even know where to begin. I never want to see that place again… ever. It is evil, Beauty. They would never let me leave if I went back. I never want to set foot on that land.”
“Hell, girl! Styx’ll keep you safe. That man is crazy over you!” Beauty blushed and bit on her lip. I could not interpret her expression, but then she said, “Mae?”
“Yes?”
“He speaks to you, don’t he?”
“Yes,” I answered warily. “We talk… He is very good to me.”
“You know, in the whole time I’ve been associated with the club, I’ve never really heard his voice. No one but Ky has. I know he called for you in the shooting, shocking the brothers to all hell, but too much was happening to really take note. What does he sound like?”
I blushed. “Deep, graveled, strong Texan accent, almost like he has gargled with broken glass… perfect. I adore its sound and could listen to him talk all day.” I blushed even more.
Beauty beamed, her smile lighting up her whole face. “I’m so happy for you both. I used to worry ’bout the guy. I’m glad you give him a voice, a safe place to be himself. He has a tough job, being so young. But Christ, the guy is one helluva good Prez. Even the old guys—Smokey and Bone, who’ve seen three Hangmen Presidents in their lives—they say Styx is the strongest, the best. Born to wear that patch.”