Claiming the Knights (5 page)

             
“Anne, darlin', you know where Dean is? I need to roll some shit over with him,” Drifter asked her.

             
“Last time I heard from him, he was doin' a little run for Scooter,” She said, throwing the bar towel over her shoulder. “Said he was coming home tomorrow.”

             
“Thanks.” Drifter got up from the bar, and headed back to his room. His phone buzzed on the way there. It was Jewl.

Jewl: Miss you... thinkin bout you. Come see me when u can. <3

              He typed out a quick text back to her.

Drifter: Got club biz tonite. See you soon.

              He was pretty sure he was falling hard for her. He really didn't know what that meant since he hadn't ever felt that in his whole fuckin' life, except maybe towards Jack, the previous pres, or his club brothers, that were always there for him.

             
He secretly hated to leave her, and couldn't wait to get back to her. He would kill for her. Were those things love? Maybe. He only wanted her, and the thought of some other guy stickin' his dick in her, sent him over the fuckin' edge. He had claimed her, but no vest yet. Just on his bike, and in his bed, and he thought Dean was an ass. It was time to get that bitch a vest.

             
He placed a call to the clubs custom leather supplier, and put in his order, and then had an anxiety attack about it. Happy, and freaked the fuck out, at the same time.

             
He decided to make a few calls. See if he couldn't find a local hit man.

             
Within an hour, he had a phone number. He traced it, and didn't come up with anything. He knew it must be a burner phone, and was going to have to call it. He was instructed to call between eight and ten PM. So he waited. Keeping this to himself, was killing him. He had to figure out how he was going to make the call, and find out for sure if it was Joel.

              Several hours later, Drifter was sitting in front of a trailer park. He had followed Joel home. He used one of the club cars. His bike would have been way too noisy. He got out of the car, and walked into the park, looking up and down each little lane for Joel's pickup, finally spotting it. It was dusk. He looked at his phone and it was a little after eight. He pulled out his burner phone.

             
“Joel here.” He heard on the line, after several rings. Fuck, that was easy. He continued to walk past the front of the mobile home. What kinda hit man states his fuckin' name?

             
“How much?” Drifter said, in a low voice. He could make out a figure in the window, holding a phone. Yep, it was him. As if the name announcement wasn't enough.

             
“Depends on what you're lookin' for,” Joel replied.

             
Drifter started back towards the car. “Just need it done fast, and soon,” Drifter replied.

             
“75 large. Email me the details, and wire the money. Destroy your phone,” Joel said.

             
“I'll think about it,” Drifter said. He hung up, and stomped his phone into the asphalt.

             
Drifter knew that he had to take this to Pres, asap. He was going to give it till the morning. He wanted to see Jewl and he knew that Joel would stick around to find out if this next hit would pan out.

              Excited to surprise his woman with a visit, he pulled up to Jewl's little house, on his bike. Parked it in the carport, and went to open the door. It was locked, so he knocked. Nothing. What the FUCK?

             
Within seconds, he was standing in the kitchen, and the door was still swinging on its upper hinges, hanging cockeyed. He had just gone through the fuckin' thing, scared to death that something had happened. That is when he heard it.

             
Moaning and grunting, coming from her room. He walked down the hall, without being quiet. There was music blaring and they were being so loud, they didn't hear the door getting torn off its hinges, or the boots coming down the hall.

             
Drifter turned the knob. As he opened the door, he closed his eyes. Just like when he, as a kid and bad things would happen to him, and he was afraid to look, he closed his eyes. Hoping that when he opened them, it would all be over, or different, or not happening. But just like when he would dare to open his eyes when he was a boy, and one of his mom's boyfriends was touching him in the wrong place, he opened them to see a man hovering over Jewl, her legs on his shoulders, as he pumped away. They still didn't see him, or hear him.

             
What happened next was a total blur. Drifter, for the life of him, didn't know how the guy ended up lifeless on the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He just remembers being pulled out of his daze, with Jewl screaming her fuckin' head off.

             
Coming to, he went for her.  Grabbing her in a headlock as she flailed around, he covered her mouth, and she calmed the fuck down.

             
As soon as she stopped moving and mellowed, he let go of her mouth, but not the headlock. It took everything in him not to snap this bitch's neck, right at that moment.

             
“What the FUCK Jewl!” He bellowed. “You are mine! What the fuck is this guy doing here with his dick in my pussy, bitch?” His breathing was heavy. He was squeezing her neck as he was talking to her.

             
“Gentle,” she said, hoping that their safe word would work. She was having a hard time breathing, as he continued the pressure.

             
“FUCK. GENTLE. BITCH!” Drifter yelled, at the top of his lungs. In one swift move, he let go of her neck, grabbed both arms and had them behind her back, and was walking her out to the kitchen. He sat her down on one of the kitchen chairs, and told her to stay there. He put the door back together as best as he could.

             
She was crying hysterically. “I am so sorry, baby.” She was hoping he wasn't going to kill her. “I was lonely and you said you were busy,” she continued to sob.

             
“Who the fuck is this asshole?” he asked her.

             
“He is just a friend.”

             
“I have lots of friends Jewl, and I don't fuck 'em,” he said, standing over her. “Is that his rig out front?” Drifter pointed towards the front door.

             
“Yeah,” she said. “He is a car salesman. I got some money off my car doing a few favors and he comes back sometimes,” she admitted, with her head hung in shame.

             
“You are a whore?” Drifter asked. He had fallen in love with a fuckin' whore.

             
He knew that she had several boyfriends in her past, but he had no idea that is what she did. How could he have been so stupid? Finally finds a fucking bitch that he thinks he loves, and then she is a fuckin' whore.

             
“I am not a whore,” she says quietly.

             
“Oh, so you fuckin' this guy to get a good deal on a car? Bitch, in my book, that's a fuckin' whore.” He pauses... “So what were you lookin' to get from me? A free oil change? Maybe some new furniture?” he yelled at her, leaning down inches from her head.

             
She continued to keep her head down. She was so afraid that he was going to hit her. “I love you, Drifter. I just don't know how to be alone.”

             
“What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? Every time I gotta leave on a run, or other business, I gotta know that you are sharing my shit all over town? I don't fucking think so, Jewl. I can't have it that way.” He was finally settling down.

             
“I am so sorry,” she said. She was hoping he wouldn't leave her, but surprised that he was still there.

             
He paced back and forth in front of her, trying to figure out what the fuck to do. He felt like his heart had been pulled out, and stomped on by her.

             
He decided to do the only thing he knew how to do. Take care of business. First thing's first. Take care of the bastard in the bedroom. He put the guy in his car, and drove him to his house. He had Jewl follow in her car, so he could get a ride back. The man had woke up on the ride, so Drifter had a chat with him about fuckin' with his woman, and keeping his mouth shut about getting roughed up. The man was married, with kids, which made things so much easier. He wasn't gonna say a fuckin' word. Gonna tell his wife he got in the middle of a bar fight. Nice. That was easy.

             
Now, for Jewl. He got into the car with her, down the block, from the bastard's house. She was still crying and she should be. Stupid fuckin' bitch. He reached over and grabbed a handful of her hair, in the back of her head. She gasped. Drifter wasn't sure if it was a scared gasp, or a turned on gasp, but he really didn't care. Both got him as hard as a rock.

             
“Now, it's time to reclaim you, bitch. No safe word now. You are gonna get what's comin' to you. You get me?” He didn't wait for an answer, he attacked her mouth with his, pressing hard as he kissed her, and their teeth knocked together.

             
She wasn't about to resist. She had fucked up big time, and she knew it. As scared as she was, and as pissed as he was, she just had to take it.

             
“You know this is all mine, bitch. You know I told you, no other dicks in my shit. I don't know if you think that was some sort of joke, but now it's time for you get reminded what I meant.” He pointed to the road. “Take me back to my bike.”

             
Jewl drove.

              After getting back to her place, he put her on the back of his bike, and brought her to the club. If she wanted to act like a whore, he was going to give her a taste of what that meant in his world.

             
They walked into the club house, and as soon as the door shut the rest of the world out, he grabbed her by the hair, and guided her into the main room, just past the entrance. Several of the brothers and prospects were sitting around, drinking, playing cards, shootin' the shit.

             
Everyone turned and looked, as her forced her into the middle of the room. “Hey guys, any of you assholes want a turn with her?”

             
Jewl couldn't believe what he was doing. “Please don't do this Drifter. I am so sorry. Won't happen again.”

             
“Shut the fuck up, Jewl. You don't get to talk right now.” He tightened his grip on her hair, as he pushed her in front of him.

             
Everyone, including the actual club whores, just stared at them. They all knew that Drifter had claimed her.

             
Anne piped up from behind the bar. “Hey, Drifter honey, you want a beer, or a shot or somethin'?” she offered, hoping he would let go of Jewl, who was silently crying her eyes out.

             
“No Anne, I'm good. I just want to know who wants a round with this whore I just found.”

             
One of the prospects raised his hand. Stupid little fuck.

             
Drifter dragged her over to him. “You want a go with her? Here she is.” He let go of her, and shoved her towards the horny little bastard.

             
Everyone continued to stare.

             
“Go ahead. Take her back to one of the empty rooms. She will do whatever you want, and if she gives you an ounce of trouble, you come get me, and I will set her straight.

             
“Please don't do this to me,” Jewl pleaded with Drifter.

             
Anne left down the hall, to text Pres, and let him know what was going on. She usually didn't get involved, but what was playing out was really fucked up, and she couldn't just watch.

             
As she hit send, here came the prospect, dragging a crying Jewl behind him. She looked at Anne with pleading eyes, but there wasn't much she could do, other than hope that Pres got there soon.

             
Drifter watched her get drug off by the horny little fuck. Jason, was that his name? Who the fuck cared?

             
“Anne, I need some of those shots now,” Drifter hollered down the hall.

             
She came back out. She heard the door at the end of the hall shut, as poor Jewl was about to be a boy toy. She put several shots in front of him.

             
Drifter took them all, one after another. Then he did something that none of them saw coming. He asked Anne for the master key.

             
“What you gonna do, Hun?” Anne asked him.