The Rage(23)

Standing in the shop looking down at a bike motor, broke down into a million little pieces, I start to question why I didn’t just stay in my room and fuck Lala again.

“You pull this shit apart?”

“You think I just pulled all them little pieces off ‘n threw ‘em ‘round here like that?” Gin grumbles, sliding over on a stool to look at the mess.

“Don’t know. Wasn’t like this when I left.”

“I was with you. You think I came home ‘n decided to tear it apart?” Alright, probably not. Well what the fuck happened?

“Spendin’ all that time fuckin’ Lala has caused damage from loss of blood to you brain, brother.” He’s probably right.

“Fuck you.”

“Alright,” he smirks, thrusting his junk in my direction.

“Keep your shit the fuck away from me.”

“Awe, come on,” he groans, killing the rest of his beer.

“Asshole,” I grumble under my breath. He just laughs.

Three hours later, Gin and I have maybe twenty less small pieces of this goddamn engine all over the place. I’m going to kill whoever tore this shit apart. I’m standing over the bike when hands wrap around me from behind.

“What are you doin’?” Lala asks, pressing her face into my cut covered back.

“Nothin’, babe. How ‘bout you?” Letting me go, she walks over to workbench and jumps up on it. Her legs are swinging innocently, watching me with a smile on those juicy lips.

She’s wearing a long black skirt and that tiny white tank. Thank fuck she put a bra on under it. Her bare feet are swinging back and forth under the workbench while she hums along to Jungle.

“Come here,” she tilts her head and nods me over. I’m comin’.

Pushing those legs apart, I step into her, pushing that skirt up. My dick finds it’s happy place between her thighs.

“You come out here to distract me?”

“I did,” she smirks wickedly at me. Fucking tease.

“I will fuck you out here on this work bench. Don’t push me,” If she thinks she can just come out her to tease me, she’s lost her fucking mind. I will fuck her with an audience if she pushes it.

“Sounds kinda dangerous,” she arches a brow at me. Thrusting against her hard, the workbench holds fast. “This shit is sturdy, baby.”

“Whatcha need?” Shrugging both shoulders, she starts running her nails up and down my arms.

“Just wanted to come see you.”

“Yeah?” Her finger runs up my arm to my neck. She’s playing with fire.

“Yep.” For some reason, I don’t believe her, but I don’t fucking care why she’s out here. All I care about is that she’s here.

Running my hand up the inside of her thigh, I watch those big blue eyes widen as she stares at me. She knows what I’m doing and she won’t stop me. My fingers find those fucking pink panties.

“Rampage,” she breathes as her hands tighten on my arms, but she lets me do whatever the fuck I want to her. Pushing aside her panties, I don’t even give her a chance. I thrust two fingers into her wet, tight pussy and she groans. This woman makes the sexiest fucking sounds I have ever heard from a woman when she’s getting off. I about fucking stroke out. She’s so tight that I work on stretching that shit out with my fingers. It should be with my tongue, but I make due with our surroundings.

Pussy, the best and worst thing on this motherfucking planet. Men die for that shit. Wars have been fought over it. Men do stupid shit for grade A pussy, and I get that shit now. Her moans are music to my ears as I finger fuck my girl. Right here, right now, I own this shit. Pumping my fingers in and out, I lick down her neck, biting her shoulder. She’s fighting to hold on.

Curling my fingers, I find that spot that makes her toes curl and her breath hitch. Using my thumb on her clit, I work magic on her with my fingers. I should be fucking her, but this shit is for her. Never thought I’d like getting someone off more than myself, but here I am, hard as a rock and aching balls with no end in sight for me, while Lala damn near cries while I finger her on a workbench in the shop. I’ll make sure she returns the favor later.



I’m sitting in the club a few hours later, doin’ some shots with the brothers when my phone rings. Jerking it out of my pocket, I see Sis’s name across the screen, “Yeah?”

“Rampage?” Lala’s on the phone and instantly I’m on alert. She doesn’t just call me. “What’s up babe? You okay?”

“Uh- no, I don’t thinks so. Someone messed with the tires on the Chevy.” Fuck! my blood pressure shoots through the fucking roof.

“Where are you?”

“At Lil’s.”

“You’re not hurt, are you? Everyone else okay?” I hear her shaky intake of air and the wobble in her soft voice, “Babe? Talk to me.”

“Yes, we’re okay.” Thank fucking God.

“Go inside and lock shit up. I’m on my way.”

Pulling up out front with Tank and Arms, I see the Chevy is sitting on its rims. Each tire has a six-inch gash in it.

“Someone didn’t just pop ‘em, someone slashed ‘em.” Arms says, running a hand over the tire.

“Whatcha think?”

“Big ass huntin’ knife would be my guess.” Fuck.

Walking through the house, everything looks fine.

“Where’d they go?” Arms questions, looking around.

Tank heads down the hall and I follow behind him, “Lala?” I yell for her.

“We’re in here.” Sis yells back through a door. Tank tries to open it, but it’s locked. Rattling the handle, he grumbles, “Open the fuckin’ door, babe.”

How the fuck did I end up this guy. This is why I never bothered pursuing anything more than a quick fuck. These are the exact fucking feelings that I’ve avoided since my mom died ‘cause I don’t want to ever have to worry about someone. I don’t want to give a fuck enough to be affected. I don’t want to need someone that much. Fucking Christ. I hate that Lala has done this to me. I fucking hate it.





Lala

“You leavin’ me?” Rampage asks me from the bed. I know he’s mad. I told him I needed to get back home. I don’t want to, but I have to. I’ve spent the whole week away from my life, hoping like hell that Ryan got bored and cleared out. I have schoolwork to get done, a job to get to, and bills to pay. I can’t hide away here forever, no matter how much I want to. My boss has been giving me shit, calling and throwing a huge shit fit. Besides, I’ve taken a week of Rampage’s time, so I’m sure he has his own things to get back to. I know he doesn’t want to spend all his time hanging out with me.

This past week has been perfect. I feel like I gained a family I didn’t know I needed. Rampage has become someone I need. In this short time I’ve known him, I’ve grown attached to him. Maybe it’s a good thing for me to step away from him. I don’t like needing someone, and honestly, I’m not used to having someone to depend on, but we’re sleeping together, and I see this for what it is. I can’t be stupid and think there could be more, so I need to go, more than I need him. My life outside of this fortress is a mess, and I have to find a way to get out and move on.

“Yeah. I’ve got to get back to my life.” I tell him sadly. His face is hard as he watches me packing up my mess. I’ve taken over his room and he’s let me.

Pushing off the bed, he hands me a piece of paper. Taking it from him, I look and see three numbers on it, “Cell, burner, club. You need somethin’… anything at all, you call me. Fuck, call any of the brothers if you need ‘em. Someone will be here.” Nodding I take the number.

Wrapping a hand in my hair, he smashes his lips hard against mine, kissing me like he’s gonna miss me. He finally breaks the kiss and points at the bed, growling, “You’re back in this bed real fuckin’ soon. You fuckin’ understand me, baby.”

Yeah, I do. Let’s hope I make it back.



Sitting in my driveway, I look around at my sad little house with its peeling paint, overgrown grass, and cracked front door. I want to be back at the club.

I park down the street to get an idea of what I should do next. If he’s there, I run. If he’s gone, well, I hope he’s well and truly gone. I don’t see any vehicles, and I don’t see any movement through the windows. I wait for a while to see if anyone opens the door, or looks out the window, but there’s nothing, so I say a prayer, asking for Ryan and his friends to be gone, before I grab my bags and make my way to the door.

My tiny house is trashed. Not only are there bottles, cans, trash, and empty food containers everywhere, but the couch is upside down, and a few kitchen chairs are smashed to pieces on the floor. The fridge door is open and the cupboards are bare. It looks like hungry raccoons or some college guys threw a party and ransacked my house, but I know better. This is just how Ryan lives. He has no respect for me or my things. Why would he when he doesn’t give a fuck about me? I wish I understood the method to his madness. He’s not obsessed with me, he doesn’t care about anything that has to do with me, but he has made it his mission in life to tear me down and make me pay for my sins. I created this monster that makes my life a living hell, but I can’t go back and erase what I’ve done, so as long as I live, he will be a part of my life. He will always make sure of that.