I didn’t realize that errand would take place in the middle of nowhere, and that I’d have to hide in the bushes.
Soon, five bikes pulled up, surrounding Rod. The guys all looked like he did, tall and muscular and covered in tattoos. They climbed off their bikes, and Rod started talking to the man in the very center.
I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it seemed like a normal enough conversation. Eventually Rod went into his riding bags and pulled out a package. He tossed it to the guy, who instantly pricked it open with a knife and tasted what was inside.
Drugs, I realized instantly. Rod had brought me to a drug deal.
I stared in horror as they began to talk again. Rod looked a little more agitated, a little uncertain. I wanted to get out of there, to run the hell away, but where could I go? I was far away from a main road and miles away from civilization.
The gunshots rang out in the night, exploding through my ears.
It happened so fast. One second Rod was arguing, and the next the men took guns from their jackets and began firing.
Rod dropped to the ground, unmoving.
Fear jolted through my spine, ice-cold fear. I could taste the horror on my tongue, and I wanted to scream.
I had to clamp my hands over my mouth to keep from making any noise.
The men stood around for a minute, smoking cigarettes and laughing. One guy grabbed the bag from Rod’s bike and tossed it over his own bike. To my horror, I realized that my purse was inside Rod’s bag, and those guys now had proof that I was here. Soon, though, they all climbed onto their bikes and rode off into the night.
I stayed in the bushes for another ten minutes, until I was sure they were gone.
I don’t know what made me leave the bushes. I stumbled out toward Rod, terror in my chest, horror in my brain.
He was lying there covered in blood.
There was so much blood, a long, deep pool stretching out around him.
His eyes stared up at me, empty, motionless.
Finally, I began to scream.
Chapter Two: Ford
“Fuckin’ Snakes been making moves on our turf,” Clutch said.
“Almost like they’re begging for a war,” Spoil agreed. He was thick and heavy, almost fat, but his size fooled many men that underestimated his speed.
I laughed at the two of them. “Snake is half our fuckin’ size,” I said. “They’re not so stupid.”
“Still pretty big,” Spoil said. “Might be they want to take a little piece of what we got.”
“Let them try,” Clutch grunted. He was a big man, scarred along his throat. “I been itching for a little fun.”
I laughed, shaking my head. Spoil and Clutch were the local chapter enforcers, and they pretty much thought about nothing but murder and violence, which was their job.
Which worked just fine for me. “You boys know I love nothing more than breaking skulls,” I said, “but say we hold off.”
“Whatever, Ford,” Spoil said.
I poured the big men another shot of whisky and filled my own glass to the brim. It was late, and the clubhouse was pretty empty except for a few members and the usual club sluts still hanging around, hoping to be made into some unlucky bastard’s old lady.
“To fucking violence, then,” I said, holding up my glass.
The two guys laughed and clinked glasses, and we drank.
“I think I might just get me some pussy tonight,” Clutch said, looking around.
“Not much talent tonight,” I said.
“When did that ever stop you, Ford?” Spoil asked me.
I smirked at him. “Yeah, true. Ain’t nobody ever said I don’t love pussy.”
We laughed and I drank again, sighing. Clutch stood up, his eye on this skinny little blond thing hanging out alone at a table. She was clearly begging for someone to take her home and hump her fucking whore brains out, which was exactly what Clutch had in mind.
“Excuse me, boys,” he said. He walked off and Spoil laughed, shaking his head.
“Damn guy,” he said. “Probably gonna fall in love with this one, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t hear? Clutch had some big falling out with his last old lady. Guess he got a little too into her, and she wasn’t feeling the same.”
I shook my head, mystified. Clutch was a big, terrifying man, but when it came to women he was absolutely soft as hell. I’d once witnessed him break a full-grown man’s leg with his bar hands, and yet pussy could break him so easily.
Made no sense to me. Never made no sense why some guys got so damn wrapped up in pussy. The only things I cared about were myself, my club, and my cash. Sure, I loved to fight and fuck as much as the next guy, but I wasn’t looking for an old lady to tie me down, let alone some club slut to drag some drama into my life.