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The Rage: Hell's Disciples MC 3(14)

By:Jaci J


"Someone threw a rock through the window," she mutters stupidly. Fuck. I  almost laugh at that. No one threw shit through that window.

I know she's fucking lying to me and I wanna know why. She can't honestly think I'm stupid enough to believe her.

"What about your bloodied face?"

I watch as her beautiful face falls, changing to something sad and  heartbreaking. Something shifts, and somehow I know I've pushed too far.  I don't want to be the reason for that look. Shit.

"It ain't my business. Forget I asked."

Damn, I backpedal real motherfucking quick, trying to erase the sadness  on that beautiful, but damaged face. I know it's not my business if she  doesn't want it to be, but somehow I feel like it is, or at least it  should be. I want everything about this girl to be my goddamn business,  no matter how fucking crazy it sounds. This girl could make me lose  myself with my obsession over her. I know it, but would never admit it.  She is gonna make me straightjacket, strong meds, crazy and obsessive. I  can't let this shit with her overwhelm me like it has been, so I really  need to stay my lane, and I guess be whatever she needs me to be to  her.

"What are ya goin' to school for? How much longer you got?"

And with the change of subject, she visibly relaxes by leaning back into  her seat and sighing. Twisting a long piece of hair around her finger,  she bites that plump lip and just like that, I'm fucking hard. Today is  going to be long and painful. All her sweet ass innocence gets to me.

"I'm majoring in business with a minor in marketing, but school's over  for a few months. Once it starts back up, I've only got a year until I  graduate." These girls and their goddamn schooling, it blows my mind.  First Lil, and now Lala. Smart bitches. They're too smart for their own  damn good. "Yeah?"

And off she goes. I watch her talk animatedly about her classes and  shit. She's so fucking happy and excited right now that I let her go. I  listen to all the shit she tells me, soaking it all up, actually  listening to every word. It's strange to be interested in anything other  than my club, but I find myself wanting to know everything about Lala. I  want to absorb every goddamn word that spills from that pretty mouth.  Yes, like I said …  obsessed.



****

It's been another long week filled with all fucking things Lala, but no  actual Lala. I found her clothes in my bathroom and stuffed them in a  pillowcase and put it next to my bed. I used a toothbrush that I knew  had been in her mouth. I've been forced to sleep in a bed that smells  like her, making my hard-on a constant thing.                       
       
           


///
       

I tried fucking Red, but that bitch couldn't do shit to cure my need to  fuck Lala. It's a sad day when a bar bitch can't get you off the way you  need it, and Red ain't the best lay, but she is freaky, so that's  saying something. Lala is the only one that can fix this shit for me, so  it looks like I'm waiting on her.

I haven't seen her since we left that restaurant, but she's always on my  mind. She's constantly up there screwing with my head ‘n shit. When we  got back to the club, she hopped in her Chevy, but not before giving me a  fucking hug and kiss. That girl threw herself around me and pulled me  into her body, kissed my cheek and said in my ear, "Thank you for  everything." I just stood there like a fucking dumbass and watched her  leave. One minute I feel like my shit is fine, but then she touches me  and I'm right back to feeling like a horny teenager with a very  unhealthy crush. She throws me off balance, and that shit is something I  don't know how to handle.

Toward the end of the week, she called Lil. I know because Lil was on  the phone with her when I walked into the office to ask her a question.  Lala must have heard me because Lil interrupted me to say, "Lailah wants  me to tell you hi for her." Even something as small as that causes me  to think about her obsessively. I'm a fucking joke when it comes to this  shit. Not a single fucking clue what I'm doing.

****

It's Friday night and we're having a big blow out. We brought on a  couple nomads, two guys Tank knew from his old club, and they're getting  patched in tonight. Spike and Rico are back in the fold, and tonight's  their ‘Welcome back to club life' party.

I spent the afternoon over at Gin's place replacing the damn garage door  ‘cause some kid's decided to use it for shooting practice with their BB  guns. Gin is my brother and he's a good fucking guy, but working with  him fucking sucks. He's so goddamn easily distracted it isn't funny. One  minute he's helping you hold up the garage door, the next he's fucking  with his bike. What should have taken three hours took five. I'm tired,  bored, and ready to relax by the time we're done.

The club is filling up nicely when we get back from Gin's. Bitches are  all over the damn place, missing articles of clothes, tits and asses are  bouncing all over the place. Our new brothers brought some new pussy  with them.

Jesus Christ, I hope they're enough to distract me from Lala tonight. A  motherfucker can only hope ‘cause this ache I've got goin' is only  gettin' worse. The longer I sleep in sheets that smell like her, the  worse the buildup gets. My body if feigning for her like a fucking  junky.

I'm cold, wet, and dirty, so I hit the shower first before I join the  party, but walking into my room, I hear someone in the bathroom. The  fuck? Asshole's thinkin' it's cool to use my room for a fuck pad when  I'm not here are gonna get the shit beat out of ‘em.

Throwing open the bathroom door, I have my fist pulled back, "The fuck  you doin' … " is as far as I get. I can't fucking believe my eyes. Lala is  standing in my bathroom, wet and completely naked.

"Rampage! You scared the shit out of me." She screams.

I don't …  I can't answer her. I'm staring and it's not because she's  naked. Her eyes catch mine, quickly realizing what I'm seeing, and she  covers herself with a towel.

"What the fuck happened, Lala?" I almost don't want to know. Her back  and side are covered in black bruises. Some look old, but a lot of them  look fresh. It looks bad, and for someone who has given their fair share  of beatings, it makes me fucking sick to see a woman beaten so badly. I  would be shocked if nothing was broken.

Fuck.

"Oh, it's nothing," she says with a smile, trying to give me the brush  off. Wrapping the towel tighter around herself, she tries to walk past  me, but she's not getting out of this easy this time. Snatching that  towel away, I watch something terrifying happen.

Lala just closes her eyes and steals herself for what? I don't know. She  doesn't fight or argue with me, she just shies back and waits. What the  fuck does she think I'm about to do to her? Jesus Christ. What the hell  is being done to her?

I'm in way over my head here. I've no fucking clue how to approach this  shit, so I walk out of the room and into the hall, "Lilly!" I need some  backup for this shit. "Goddamn Sis, get the fuck in here!"

In runs Lil, with Tank and Peaches on her heels. Shoving me and Tank away, they slam the door shut in our faces.                       
       
           


///
       

****

"Leave her be, Rampage," Lil says as she and Peaches steps out into the  hallway. I've been standing out here with Tank, looking like a dumbass  for the last ten minutes now, and that's all she has to say? I don't  fucking think so.

"Fuck that shit, Lil. Girl shows up here in my room, bruised the fuck up. Don't tell me to ‘leave her be.'"

Lil pulls the door closed behind her and leans against it, blocking me  from getting to Lala. She's smart. She knows I won't put my hands on her  to move her out of the way.

"What happened?" Peaches asks, looking like she might cry. Oh hell. if  these girls start crying, I'm leaving. I cannot handle that shit.

"What the fuck happened to her, baby?" Tank pushes Lil. Yeah, good question. I'd like to know that shit too.

"She won't tell me anything. It's obvious that someone did this to her, she just won't say who or why."

Well no shit, Sherlock. Those bruises didn't just magically appear. They  look more like a dozen fists or kicks if you ask me. I should know.  Some soon to be dead fucking asshole put their hands on her, and I won't  let that shit slide.

"Lil, move and let me in there."

Putting her hand on my chest she says, "You go in there, don't be pushy  or scare her. Don't make her feel bad for not telling us anything. If  she needs our help, she will have to come to us. We can't force her to  do it." Nodding I wait for her to move, and with one last look, she  says, "Be sweet. Be nice, Rampage. She needs that right now. " Please  God, no crying. I can't do tears.