Authors: Ryder Dane
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Action & Adventure, #Contemporary, #Erotica, #New Adult
a show horse. Wolfman had pulled five of the club’s presidents into his own entourage
as additional bodyguards. He was expected to be at the fucker’s beck and cal anytime
day or night. He knew Wolfman was planning something, and it wouldn’t be beneficial
to the five men he’d pulled rank on either.
He was playing poker with Fetch and Joey when Slick pulled a wooden bench to
their table and sat down. He at least waited until they’d finished their hand before he
started running his mouth. “I ain’t saying we got a rat here, but someone poisoned
Opie, we found him an hour ago. Fucker’s stil foaming at the mouth, he’s been dead
for a while.” He looked around the room before turning back to the three at the table.
He leaned in closer, “Sea is missing, and Aaron is all fucked up. He got the same shit
Opie got, he’s opening and closing his mouth, but nothing is coming out, the shit he
drank was like drain cleaner.” He sat back a little stil looking around the room.
“Someone firebombed the shed, the cops just told the guys at the door, and Wolfman is
looking like he’s gonna pop a vein.”
War didn’t believe this was al Slick wanted to say, he was here at this table for a
reason, “What in the hel is going on? Last I heard we weren’t at war, I can see why
someone would want to take Aaron out, not the rest.” He kept a stern look on his face,
even if he wanted to laugh. Opie was Slick’s best friend, but something just wasn’t right
here with the way Slick told them about the tragedies. “Who forced them to drink the
stuff?” He wasn’t supposed to know about the shed, it was actually a small pole barn
that Wolfman’s slaves were manufacturing Meth in. More than likely it blew up rather
then was firebombed.
“Wolfman is nervous, he thinks he’s next and he is pretending to be too sick to
come out of his rooms. Look, man, I don’t know what’s going on here, alright? All I
know is that Opey is dead, Aaron is dying, and Sea is missing. Our president is hiding
like a fuckin’ rabbit up in his room, leaving the rest of us here with our thumbs in our
asses wondering who’s next, and who the enemy is. There are fifty of us here, and
unless Sea walks through that door soon, I’m gonna say we got forty-nine people now.”
Fetch was one of Wolfman’s trusted minions, just like Slick was, but he never
flinched at the news. He was staring at War, and stood.
“You might want to sit down before I misunderstand your aggressive act here,
Fetch. I haven’t left this fucking building for three days. Joey here hasn’t either. So sit
back down before I decide you’re asking me to dance.”
“I gotta take a piss, don’t get your shit al stirred. I know you’ve been here, no one’s
making accusations.” He turned his back and walked away.
War and Joey turned back to Slick. “Cut the shit, Slick, just come out with what
Wolfy wants us to know and you can go back and tell him whatever the fuck you want to
tell the man. If he’s hiding out, then the members will start to notice, and while the man
might be pickled and fuckin’ smoked most of the time, he ain’t dumb.” Joey had a way
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Starting Over by Ryder Dane
with words, and he was one of the few men War could actually tolerate in this place. He
nodded his head in agreement as they both looked at Slick.
“I’m not the stooge you two assholes think I am. Fetch ain’t either. Two days ago
Wolfman got a letter. You know how important he thinks he is, he’s too important to
read his mail and always has Zero read it to him. Usually it’s bill collectors and shit like
that. This was a real letter. It said that bad things would be happening if he didn’t put a
gun to his head and blow his fuckin’ brains out in the middle of town, under the caution
light. He thinks it’s one of the former presidents trying to cause shit, but me and Fetch,
we talked, and we think it’s personal, you know? Wolf has pissed off a lot of people.”
That got their attention. “So what are we supposed to do? If someone has a legit
grudge, I can’t see a problem with Wolfy taking care of it in his usual way. He has me
sitting here on my ass or standing at his back, as many people as he’s pissed off, do
you even know how many or who they are?”
The men played another hand, dealing Slick in, and he didn’t bother to try to cheat
this time, everyone knew he cheated in a normal game, but too many were afraid of his
closeness to the prez, Wolfman, to call him on it.
No one had enough information to decide where to look for the person killing off the
brothers, but each man had his own thoughts. War held his ideas close to his chest. If
there had been three men who deserved killing, yeah, the guy picked some good
candidates. He glanced around the room, keeping his eyes moving even when he saw
someone he knew mostly by reputation, it wouldn’t be good if Slick saw him looking at
any one person for longer than a second, he would try to find a connection. They didn’t
call the man Slick for nothing, he was everything his tag implied.
The skank sucking Race off, was one of those women with a no gag reflex and the
ability to vacuum the cum from a man’s prick in five minutes or less. They called her
Dew Drop, but War hadn’t indulged her taste for a man’s cum. He liked a good blowjob
as much as the next man, but ol’ Dew Drop was showing signs of wear quick, and the
needle marks on her inner elbows were a big problem for him. He preferred Gummy, at
least she didn’t scrape his cock with jagged teeth and a mouthful of sores. She didn’t
deep throat a man voluntarily, but she worked that tongue of hers around a cock while it
was buried into the back of her throat. He felt sorry for the woman, but she wanted to
belong to the club, and she was tougher than she looked. Someone had long ago
abused her, and either knocked out her teeth, or pulled them out, and she was missing
an eye. Since the first night he’d woken up with her lips wrapped around his dick, she’d
been his favorite.
Elton was pounding his meat into some female that made the mistake of letting
them tie her to a tabletop, and she would be a messed up Zombie by morning. She’d
already had at least five guys fucking her holes, and Elton was just another in line.
Slick twitched and put his cards face down on the table before reaching into his shirt
pocket and answering the cal . “Yeah, I got it, where? Thanks, man.” He put the phone
back in his pocket and shook his head, “Forty-nine confirmed. That was Donnie, the
cop. Sea was found in the al ey behind Double D’s, dead.” He picked up his cards and
the game continued.
She had been trying her best to find a way to get to him when the solution
presented itself in a left side of the problem kind of way. If you can’t get to the snake,
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you destroy his habitat, he’l either move on, or slither out of his hole and try to fight to
keep his territory.
She’d opted for destruction of habitat, her newfound friend, wel she was going the
more direct route, genocide.
River had driven into town and taken a room at the local weekly rental place. It was
a nice hotel in the fifties, now it was a place for anyone who had cash to pay up front for
a room on a weekly basis. Prostitutes and druggies lived there, and a few single moms
who had no other options, but there were a few people like her, just renting a room until
they could find a more permanent place to sleep.
There had been no problem getting a job at Double D’s, she could toss a bottle and
draw a draft beer with minimal head as easily as she could breathe, and the owner of
the place was eager to hire a bartender slash barmaid that had her skills.
Now she was established in the area. Her plans were right on track, until last night
at least. She’d just come back from torching an old metal building that housed the
bikers’ meth lab, and stumbled upon a woman that was even shorter than herself, trying
to heave a big body onto a tarp behind the sandwich shop.
The little woman had been startled by the way River ran up to her, almost falling
over the legs of the dead guy. She’d looked down just in time to stop herself from
meeting the concrete in a personal way, and saw the girl cowering against the wall of
the building. The dead guy was foaming at the mouth and it was obvious the girl had a
hand in his killing. Seeing the vest he wore, or his cut as the bikers called it, made her
smile and she decided to help the little woman if she could.
Gummy was the girl’s name at the clubhouse, but she told River about her life
before Wolfman had taken her from her home in Arkansas. The bikers had been driving
through town while she had been walking home from a basketball game where she’d
ditched her date. She was bitter and River couldn’t blame her. Wolfman had stopped
the entire gang just long enough to snag her from the sidewalk. He’d knocked her out,
and she had no idea how she’d ended up at their campsite the next morning. Her real
name was Maisey Jean Lassiter, and she was now twenty-eight. As she said, “There
ain’t nuthin’ for me to go back to. I tried calling my mother, but she went all ape shit on
me and told me I was dead, and to leave her alone.”
It seemed a bit strange, talking about the little woman’s history while they rol ed Sea
onto a blue plastic tarp. And stranger still while they tugged and dragged their heavy
load the hundred feet or so to rest it near the grease box where the grill kitchen dumped
vats of used frying oil and lard. Gummy was an evil genius, and River planned to assist
her in her endeavors to a point.
She dropped Gummy off on the road about a hundred feet from the driveway that
led to the MC’s home base. The woman disappeared into the trees, and River kept
driving past the dirt two track just like any other vehicle would do, but she was scoping
out places that might give a person a bit of cover. She needed some idea of who came
and went on a daily basis, and then she could plan her timing better. With Gummy’s
assistance, even if she wasn’t aware of her helping her, she would have eyes and ears
inside of the club itself. Befriending the girl hadn’t been a bad decision; in fact, it was as
if fate herself had handed River what she needed to accomplish her ultimate goal.
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Wolfman stayed holed up in his rooms for four days before he showed his face in
the bar. Fetch and Slick stayed at his side while he was walking around, acting like he
was the bad motherfucker he had always been. Only the way his eyes tracked the
room and rested on potential assassins, showed his concern. Right now his gaze was
trained on War, and Race wondered what would come of that suspicion.
War might be well liked and respected by the club’s members, but Race had his
own plans for being Wolfman’s replacement, and it might be time for him to have a
discussion with the man. War had to know that it was past time for Wolfy to go to
pasture, but the fucker wouldn’t leave his post voluntarily. He got a nut every time he
looked in the mirror because of his importance.
Race could identify with that position, at least that was the plan. He wanted the
entire club to get out of the pharmaceutical business. He had no problem with a bit of
weed. But that other shit was just fucking too many people up. He didn’t real y give a
shit what adults did to their bodies, however, kids were entirely different. Kids were
being dumbed down enough without providing them with poison. His own cousin had
gotten into some of the shit and ran into the middle of a four-way in Dallas during rush
hour. He hopped on the hood of a car, the driver slammed on his breaks and Cory flew
off the car landing in the path of a metro bus. That had been a fucking circus, and no
one came out feeling at peace after the funeral. Yeah, Meth would be a big problem
with him once he took over the president’s post.
He’d been to every MC chapter that claimed membership status, and even visited
some of the affiliates over the past two years. There was a lot of opposition to the way
Wolfman was taking the club. Between the heat and the rival gangs, not to mention the
drug lords from down in South America taking over territory from the small basically