The Rage: Hell's Disciples MC 3(2)
"Not fuckin' interested," I tell her.
She groans and smacks the back of my head, "Just hear me out. She's gorgeous, sweet but strong, and I worry about you being alone. You need an old lady, not nasty gash." Lil is like a sister, and just like a sister, she's trying to marry my ass off. What a pain in the ass.
///
"Sis, I told you I'm not lookin'. I get pussy daily ‘n I don't have to marry ‘em to fuck ‘em. Lay off it now, will ya."
She laughs and shrugs her shoulder, giving me a nasty fucking smirk. She thinks she's right, "You're gonna eat your words once you see her, but whatever you say."
It's not fucking likely.
****
It's been a long fucking week. A run to Montana took longer than expected, but I'm a few miles from home and I couldn't be more ready to chill the fuck out. Don't get me wrong, I love riding. I live for the road and the freedom. It's my calling … encoded into my DNA, pumping through my veins, but sometimes shit gets a little much.
This last run was a total fuck up. I spent half the time soaked to the bone from so much fucking rain, got shot at twice, and the club I stopped through had no fresh pussy. Being stuck in someone else's club with a bunch of fucking dudes is not cool. It was a goddamn sausage fest, and now I'm heading home to my club, which I'm happy as fuck about.
I've been doing this shit for twelve years. Been in this life since the moment I came screaming into the world thirty years ago ‘cause Mom was a club whore. She may not have been an old lady, but that shit never really mattered. She was always at the club until my Pops decided it was up to him to end her life.
I was a snot nosed little shit, spending most of my time running around this place and other clubs with Mom. Pops spent the majority of his time on the road, running shit for the club. When he was around, he was always drunk, beating the shit out my mom. When I was sixteen, he strangled mom to death. I don't know why he did it, but he was a piece of shit. He killed her, but I ended that asshole very soon after. When I found him drunk and passed out by her dead body, I fucking snapped. I made sure he was wide awake to see me put that bullet into his fucking head. My mom was a broken person, no doubt about it, but we took care of each other, and we were all the other had.
I buried my mom and killed my dad, ending their vicious cycle. I picked up and moved the fuck on with my young life, trying to make something out of myself the best way I knew how. I haven't loved anybody like my mom since then, doubt I ever will. The only thing that comes close is my love for my club. I'm not even sure if love is the word I'd use, but I sure fuckin' like it.
My loyalty is for my club and my love is for the road. That's it. I have no family or friends outside the club. It's this club and it's people that are the only ties I have to this world.
I've been a patched member since the day I turned eighteen. I spent two years before becoming a member hanging around, doing shit for the brothers until I was old enough to prospect. Once I made prospect, I was five months in when I killed an asshole for a brother. I was patched in the next day. The rest is history.
Joining the club has been the only right decision I've made in life for me, no matter how anyone else sees it. Not a whole lot in my life matters to me, but this club is my fucking heart. I don't want a family. Don't want kids. Don't want a wife. This is all I want in life. I eat, sleep, and breathe club life. That's me, plain and simple.
****
A few hours later we're all kicking back, having drinks and relaxing. It's a Wednesday evening get together, and it's off to a rowdy start. I've had to break up a fight, boot a few unwelcome assholes the fuck out of the club, and kicked Stitch's ass in the ring. He's nursing a busted nose and maybe some broken ribs, while I'm sporting a nice little cut along my cheekbone, but as of right now, shit is good.
Brothers, old ladies, kids, friends, prospects and bar bitches all mingle around the club, having a good time. Brothers are talking and drinking, bitches are laughing and gossiping, and the kids are screaming and running around. This is the only noise I enjoy.
This is a family party. These "dinners" as Lil calls them, happen every Wednesday and Sunday, so it's not a huge thing. Don't get me wrong, we'll party any other day of the fucking week, too. We don't need a reason to throw one back. Someone gets patched in, knocked up, dies, gets a speeding ticket, we will fucking celebrate it – and we will celebrate it in a big way.
Leaning against the bar, I'm bullshitting with Arms and Tags when Tank makes his way to me, looking like man on a mission with Lil thrown over his shoulder laughing.
"You gonna be down here?" He asks as he passes.
"Hey Rampage!" Lil giggles and waves at me.
He's rubbing on her ass and thighs. Fuck, I really don't need to see that shit.
///
"Sis." I nod, avoiding looking at either of them. I swear, Tank spends more time fucking that girl than he does doing anything else, but at least he's not drinking and treating her like shit, so I'll take the gross over the unstable shit any day.
"Yep." He stops long enough for me to answer him.
Nodding toward the door, he says, "Lil's got some bitch from school comin' over so let her in. Keep an eye on her ‘‘til I'm done with her, yeah?"
Lil smacks his back, "Don't call her a bitch."
He doesn't even give me a chance to say anything else ‘cause he's already down the hall. Yeah, sure, I'll babysit some bitch. Why the fuck not?
Hitting up the bar, I throw a couple shots back while I wait. A club whore, Red, starts crawling all over me like she's broke and trying to earn a buck. This bitch has her hands all over the place, rubbing on my dick, licking on my neck. Not sure why she picks me to crawl all over. There are at least twenty guys here who'd be happy to fuck her, but me? Not so much.
Being that I have a babysitting gig, I can't do shit with Red, but I have twenty minutes of trying to fight the bitch off when Tiny come's waddling up to me laughing.
"Got some little tart at the gate." He says, throwing a thumb toward the monitors on the wall. Must be the friend.
"Open it," I tell him, "And as for you, get the fuck off me." I try to shake Red, but it's a no go. She pouts and stomps her damn foot. That shit is not cute.
"Come on, baby. Let's go to your room," she pleads with desperation seeping out of her like a rank smell. I like ‘em eager and willing, not desperate and needy. I avoid that kinda shit.
I move to leave her when she grabs my arm, tugging me back toward her.
"Keep tuggin' on my fuckin' arm bitch, and imma start tuggin' back. I promise you Red, you won't like it." What the fuck is wrong with her? I hate grabby, needy bitches. Keep your fucking hands to yourself. "I'm not interested in that pussy of yours right now. Been there, done that, not what I'm lookin' for." She rips her hands away like I burned her.
"Fuck you!" she spits.
"I'll pass, sweet cheeks," I say as I smack her ass on my way to the door. Her jaw hits the floor and she glares at me, but if I said the word, she'd be spread eagle on my bed in a goddamn heartbeat. She wouldn't make me ask her twice.
I'm standing near the door when I hear a soft knock on the old worn wood, and right off the bat I can tell you this girl has never been to the club before. That knock comes from someone who's scared. Who the fuck knocks in the first place anyway? Fuck, I bet she's a goddamn librarian, or some church bitch. Christ.
I'm not looking forward to this babysitting gig, but I'll do what I gotta do and then she's Lil and Tanks problem.
Throwing open the door I announce like an asshole, "Welcome to Hell."
I'm not fucking prepared for the bitch on the other side. Nothing could have prepared me for that shit. My words are suddenly crammed right back down my throat and I choke on those motherfuckers.
I'm faced with the hottest bitch I have ever seen. Holy fucking shit. I don't think I have ever met a bitch that could ever compare to the woman standing at the door. For a second I just stare at her like a dumb shit, not even able to speak.
My eyes can't seem to take her in quick enough. From her face to her fucking body, there is too much perfection to take in at once. She's that type of bitch you need to take in small doses, ‘cause too much of her could kill a man. She cannot be good for your fucking health.
She has long, golden blonde hair that hangs all around her perfect face. That shit looks shiny, thick, and soft as fuck. She even has those enormous blue doll eyes, long dark lashes, a cute ass nose and glossy pink lips. This bitch has the face of a goddamn angel.