Lucifer’s Fury (A Motorcycle Club Romance) (4 page)

It doesn’t surprise me that the Twisted Bastard MC is looking for revenge. I had killed their President. So I get it.

Not just that, but the police had been called in, and based on the news reports, they had easily connected the Twisted Bastard MC to the kidnaping and rape of numerous women in the area. The Federal Bureau of Investigation was crawling up their asses, too. I was happy they were squirming under the thumb of the Feds. If we’re lucky that will keep them too busy to screw with us. A girl can hope anyway.

I knew this wasn’t the end of things, though. Not by a long shot. It was just getting started and I wasn’t sure we could handle it all on our own. Not this time. This was different, and not in a good way. It killed me to admit it but we were in over our heads and sinking fast. Worse yet, it was all
my
fault.

It wasn’t like us to cower with our tails tucked between our legs like a bunch of pussies. We aren’t... pussies that is. We might have them but we are a kickass group of ladies that doesn’t take shit from anyone. Ever. We’re the Gypsy Riders MC for Christ’s sake. But I just don’t know if our combined skill set is enough to weather the storm that’s coming. In the back of my mind I keep telling myself to go home and beg for help. But my pride hasn’t let me get that far yet. I just can’t go there.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I brought my hand to my chest, rubbing at the thick unsettling pain that resided there, my mind racing, trying to figure out why the hell I did what I did that night, and how to get us out of this mess I had caused.

Even worse, I had managed to let two of my sisters get taken.

I should have ordered a lockdown. Knowing what was coming, a smart president would have ordered the lockdown immediately. I could hear my father’s laugh sounding in my head like a damned horn. Over and over again, he just laughed at my stupidity. That alone was causing me to question my ability as a President of my own fucking MC. Was I good enough? Was I strong enough to survive this? Could I keep everyone safe? Was my father right all along?

My vision blurred, the back of my eyes prickled, and I knew the tears were fighting to make their presence known. Blinking rapidly, I fought to push them back... for now anyway. Everyone was looking to me for strength and leadership and I don’t want to fail them. Not now. Not ever.

Now wasn’t the time for tears. I’d cry about it all later. Alone.

I needed to be strong for the girls. Needed to find our missing sisters, and fast.

Rubbing my hand over my face, I glanced around the room, taking in the somber faces of the other Gypsies. Juju and Trixie had been missing in action for several days now. At first we all thought they were held up somewhere doing their thing. It wasn’t a secret that they were a couple, and we didn’t much care. They were happy and that meant we were happy for them. Different strokes for different folks and all that.

But when more time passed and still there was no word from them, we began to panic. Every call and text had went unanswered and that’s when we knew something truly awful had happened to them. We made the rounds, checking in at all their usual favorite places until, finally, we found their bikes at a local bar they frequented. But still no word from them.

The roar of motorcycles, not Harleys, outside the clubhouse immediately drew our attention. We were all accounted for. Almost all of us anyway.

All of the Gypsies were quickly on their feet, checking their weapons and moving for the main entrance when Siren busted through the front door.

“A dozen Twisted Bastards are at the front gate,” she shouted.

It was already getting dark out. The few lights in the parking lot barely illuminated the front gate, but I could see just well enough to make out a small thin figure tied to the metal gate at the entrance.

Fucking hell.

I stumbled as I realized Juju was strapped to the gate, her arms and legs spread wide, chains wrapped around her little wrists and ankles. Working my gaze slowly over the disgusting men wearing leather cuts their motorcycles parked in a half circle around the gate, I finally saw a frightened Trixie kneeling on the ground some five feet away from Juju, her wrists bound with a zip tie. Her face was badly beaten, days-old blood dried along her hair line and all along her small face. Her clothing was torn to shreds, revealing her badly beaten body. Christ these men had beaten them something awful. My heart thudded against my ribs as I pushed away thoughts of just what exactly might have been done to the girls while in captivity with these fools.

Coming to a halt several feet from the gate, I glanced over at Juju. She shook her head from left to right and mouthed an ‘It’s okay’ as tears ran down her battered cheeks and, for a moment, I wasn’t sure what she meant. That’s when the evening wind shifted and I smelled it. Gasoline. A lump rose in my throat strangling me as I balled up my fists. I wanted to badly to kill every single one of these assholes with my bare fucking hands.

My eyes darted over her body, taking in the dampness of her clothing, and I realized there was nothing I could do. Juju’s mouthed words twisted my gut. Bile rose up my throat, burning the sensitive tissue. The Twisted Bastards had only bothered to show their face to deliver our punishment. No.
My
punishment.

“Oh my God!” I choked out.

A deep voice grabbed my attention, pulling my gaze from Juju, further past the gate. “You bitches have crossed the line. Now it’s time you pay the price.”

I watched in horror as the man struck a match on his nasty ass teeth and flicked it at Juju. It flew through the air in slow motion. The flame dancing as it drew closer and closer to my dear friend and Gypsy sister.

Tears stung my eyes and I fought to stay standing as Juju’s screams began in earnest, the fire licking at her body angrily. The smell of burnt flesh and the pained screams of Juju and Trixie stole my breath. I couldn’t move. My eyes slammed shut when I could no longer take in the horrendous sight before me. I’d failed Juju. Her death was on me and me alone. The shouts behind me from the other sisters were nothing compared to Trixie’s heartbreaking wails and choked sobs as she watched her lover burn alive.

The Twisted sat straddling their bikes, boots planted firmly on the ground, as if nothing rattled them, wicked evil grins on their disgusting faces. Then came the laughter and that only fueled my anger and need for revenge. I’d do whatever I had to now. I stared long and hard at each and every one of them, memorizing every detail of their faces because we would come for them soon and they would regret today’s actions.

Juju’s screams finally ended and the scar-faced bastard, wearing a brand-new President patch, raised his boot, kicking Trixie in the back, forcing her body forward to the asphalt. She cried out in pain as she face-planted on the hard ground. She didn’t bother moving.

Without so much as another word, the Twisted Bastards rode away, their growling engines fading away into the night.

“Ladies, put out that damned fire,” I shouted. “And call the damn police.”

Pulling a set of keys from my pocket with trembling hands, I made my way to the side of the gate, unlocking it. Carefully, I slid the gate open just enough to pass through, keeping my eyes on Trixie the entire time, watching as she rolled to her side, grimacing in pain with each movement of her body. I quickly looked down the streets for any sign of the Twisted and ran to her here side. Kneeling down, I pulled a knife from my boot and cut the zip ties at her wrists and ankles.

“Let’s get you inside.” I said softly, unable to meet her eyes.

The police arrived within minutes. Cherry Pie dealt with them while I dealt with Trixie and getting a local doctor friend to treat her wounds privately. There wasn’t an inch of skin on her body that didn’t show signs of torture and abuse. Cuts and bruises marred her small broken frame. Each and every touch made her whimper. But none of that was as bad as losing Juju.

“They killed her.” she mumbled over and over again.

“I know they did, honey. I know.”

Over and over again, she mumbled the same words, cutting me to the core each and every time. I slipped from the room unable to hear those words uttered again.

For the first time, I found myself at a loss for words. I wanted to ease her suffering, to offer kind words, to ease her pain, but nothing seemed to sound quite right. I had failed her and Juju epically. And there didn’t seem to be a way to make it right.

The doctor arrived, cleaning and bandaging her wounds. He gave her an injection to help her sleep and calm her nerves. When she finally dozed off, we left her curled up on the bed and eased quietly out of the room. We all feared rape was a part of the torture but the doctor swore that that hadn’t happened. There were no signs of rape which shocked us all. But everything else they had done was bad enough without adding that.

Chapter 5: Blaze

I took my usual seat at the bar next to Suicide. Within seconds, the prospect behind the bar sat an ice cold beer before each of us. Turning the bottle up, I guzzled half of it down.

“Any news?” I asked.

“Everything has been quiet on that front. I’ll make a few calls later tonight.”

“Good. That’s real good.”

The sweet butts and a few local women were out in full force tonight, as was usual. Somewhere behind me I could hear the steady slapping of flesh against flesh. At least someone was getting theirs. I hadn’t allowed myself to bed a woman since learning of Lola’s return. And I was just fine with waiting her out.  

Suicide and I pounded back a few more beers and a half dozen shots while we chatted about an upcoming weekend ride until something on the television caught his attention. He frowned and slammed his fists on the bar, immediately grabbing the prospect’s attention.

“Turn that shit up! Now! Hurry the fuck up!” he growled.

The prospect rushed to the television.

A woman in a crisp blue suit strangling a microphone filled the screen. Behind her was a single story white building with about a dozen motorcycles lined up out front. Police cars, fire trucks and other emergency vehicles crowded the scene. A body bag lay on the ground near the closed gate. The camera zoomed in on the building, centering on a large sign reading Gypsy Riders MC. My head snapped to the side, meeting Suicide’s angry face.

“Turn off the damn music! Now!” I boomed. The music ceased and the chatter in the room died off instantly.

The reporter’s voice droned on about a rival club and how a young woman with the Gypsy Riders had been chained to the front gate and burned alive. I watched as uniformed officers and a few FBI officials came in and out of the clubhouse. But there was no sign of the Gypsy Riders.

I glared at Suicide. My heart was thundering in my chest as I hoped and prayed Lola was safe inside that fucking building. “Thought you said things were quiet. This...” I pointed at the television. “...isn’t quiet.”

“Fuck. It was quiet. No word on the street at all, brother. Nothing but silence. I’ll ride out now. See if I can make contact with Lola. Offer our help.”

“No! Not yet. It’s time we fill in the rest of the men on this… situation. Past time I figure. Fucking Twisted Bastards need to be taken out once and for all. Get everyone together now!”

Within an hour, every patched member of Lucifer’s Fury filled the meeting room at the clubhouse. The clubhouse cleared of anyone not patched in. Our front gate locked up tight. There weren’t enough chairs so dozens of men lined the walls, filling every available bit of space. It wasn’t often that we required a meeting like this to take place. Usually the officers were enough, but not this time.

I slammed the gavel down on the table, feeling the force ricochet up my arm. “Sometimes the past comes back to haunt a man. We all know that the twisted minds of a few can poison the good minds of a club. It’s happened here in this club, too. There isn’t a single man in this room who knows it better than me.”

I glanced around the table, making sure I had everyone’s attention. “Ten years ago, our founder and former President, Lucifer Easton, found out I was going to marry his daughter in secret. He had plans for her. Plans she knew nothing about, and wouldn’t have agreed with had she known about them. Secretly, he was making shady deals with rival clubs, and his daughter, Lola, was a bargaining chip. Lucifer ordered me to walk away from her or I’d never earn my colors. That, in itself, is unthinkable. But what he didn’t count on was Lola packing her bags and disappearing.”

Taking a deep breath, I glanced around the room again, this time meeting the eyes of the many men all patched into this club and proud to display their colors. The shocked and disgusted looks on their faces told me they understood.

“Lola has been gone for ten years. I’ve searched for her off and on, and with Suicide’s help, she’s been found. Lola Easton has formed an MC in Gun Barrel, The Gypsy Riders. Now it appears that the Gypsy Riders have taken on the Twisted Bastards, and one of their girls was chained to their clubhouse fence and burned alive tonight.”

“What Blaze wants to know,” Suicide added, “is would Lucifer’s Fury be willing to stand beside the Gypsy Riders, an all-women club, and help them with their problem?”

The men began to whisper, their hushed voices buzzing as they talked amongst themselves around the room. A young man in the back of the room knocked his fist on the table and stood up. He straightened his leather vest.

“I’ve heard talk about the Gypsy Riders. Is it true they’re all ex-military?”

A smile etched across my lips at his words. “It is. From what Suicide tells me, many of the women have seen active combat and some hold medals for their service. But none of that really matters. Lola is family to this club. The daughter of our founder. As far as helping them with their problem... Suicide and I will meet with Lola… well, Pandora, first. I just wanted to see how everyone feels about working with an all-female MC.”

“I have no problem working with a female MC as long as they carry their own weight,” Big Brass, the Veep, announced.

The rest of the men agreed with casual nods and thumbs up. So it was settled. We would offer our help and leave it up to Lola from there.