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“I thought he was just going to show it to me, but instead, he touched my mouth with it. It smelled weird, like rubber and fish. He grabbed my chin hard and told me to open wide, so I did.”
“Motherfucker!” I hear yelled and I look over to see that Pops is seething.
“I opened my mouth, and when I felt it touch me I bit down hard. He screamed and screamed and there was blood. I let go of it because I didn’t want bitten off dick in my mouth and when he bent over, I scratched his eyes and punched him in the throat. By that time Alan had come back and he seemed to panic. He slapped me hard. I remember my head bouncing off the wall, he grabbed Nado and they left. I’m not sure how long I lay on the ground or even if I was the one who called 911. I woke up after they arrived and that’s when you got there Pops,” She opens up her eyes and looks toward her grandfather, who looks as if his heart has been broken. Poor bastard didn’t need to hear about his only son- and daughter-in-law being murdered and his granddaughter sexually assaulted, but he came to support his grandbaby, and that tells you what type of man he is and how close his family is. He shakes his head before striding over to Chewy and wrapping her up in his arms.
“Did good, baby girl. You did so well. You were so brave. You got that motherfucker then, and when we get hands on him, you’ll get him again. And this time you’ll end him for good, you hear me?” I see Chewy pull back from her pops and give him a nod. She frowns for a moment and then she wipes her hands along her cheeks. She looks confused as to why her hands and cheeks are wet and she looks over to Gus and Tav before whispering,
“I’m crying? I never cry.” Gus clears his throat before he says to his sister,
“It’s all good to cry, Dayz, but only this once, yeah?” He gives her a thin-lipped smile as she rolls her eyes and nods at him. When her Pops moves back, both Gus and Tav come over to sweep her up in their arms. I rub my hands down my face and look up to see my dad squatting down, face to face with me.
“You alright son? That was pretty intense” He raises his eyebrow at me and I know there’s no point in bullshitting him. He can always tell when I’m lying.
“Yeah Dad, I’m okay. That was just hard to hear. Chewy is….” I cut off and heave a sigh because I don’t exactly know what she is just yet. All I know is that she feels like mine. His big hand comes down onto my shoulder, giving me a small squeeze before jiggling me.
“Yeah, son, I know what she is.” He stands and wanders off. The brothers are all chatting with each other in groups. Some have wandered off, probably to hit something. None of us like men using or abusing women, and the fact that Chewy is not only fucking tiny as a full-grown person, but at 13 years old she would have been a hell of a lot smaller and legitimately a fucking child. I want to go out there right now and hunt this Nado fucker down, but even if I caught him, his punishment isn’t up to me. That’s up to Chewy. Godammit I need a drink. I stand to head to the bar, and that’s when I hear shots ring out.
“GET DOWN!” Marx’s voice booms out as everyone dives behind tables, the couches, behind walls, anywhere to dodge what sounds like semi-automatic gunfire. There is a pause in shots and I look around, trying to find Chewy and make sure she’s tucked away somewhere safe. Instead, my heart skips a beat when I see her dive over a table and duck walk closer to the door, gun drawn. Her brothers are flanking her whilst Pops is positioned behind them with a rifle. I do a double take. What the fuck? Where the hell did he get that? We don’t own a rifle in the clubhouse. I shoot a confused look to Marx, who mouths,
“What the fuck?” back at me. Good to see neither of us knows what the hell this family is up to. The Tombs are positioned by the door, looking like a military unit. My brothers and I are all fanned out in pretty much the same positions, just around the common room. Things have gotten very quiet outside, but none of us are letting our guard down because that’s when people get killed. I look back over to the Tombs and the front door in time to see them all look down at their watches, then in sync, they all stand and put away their weapons.
“Stand down. Jules has neutralized the shooter,” Gus shouts. Chewy waves Tav to look through the peephole and he nods and steps back, allowing Jules to enter, AR15 semi-automatic over his shoulder, dragging some guy wearing blackout clothes behind him by the foot. He dumps this douche in the middle of the common room before dusting off his hands and handing the assault rifle over to Marx.
“A present for you. May I suggest we take him to the shed for a little show and tell?” He raises an eyebrow at Marx before our Pres gives the guy a swift kick in the ribs.
“Prospect! Get this piece of shit in the shed. Rhodie, this one is yours. Want him strung up or sitting down?” My gaze catches with Chewy’s and she gives me a big grin. I smile back at her.
“Strung up Pres, I’m going to show Chewy what we can do.” She claps her hands and bounces on her toes. Her brothers shrug and follow me and my MC brothers out to the shed. Pops somehow has gotten rid of the rifle, and I can hear him chatting away to Chewy.
“I’m looking forward to seeing what this shitstain can do. Might learn some new tricks, hey?” I smile to myself. It’s showtime.
Chapter 8
Tuesday
It seems like it was a lot longer than two weeks ago that I was last in this shed, slicing and dicing my ole buddy Alan. It’s weird how so much has changed in two weeks. Two weeks ago it was just me, my brothers, and Pops, and now it feels like I have all these new friends and I’m a different person. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy with my small circle of people, and I’ve always enjoyed my own company. But looking around at these men, I feel as if for the first time, I’m on the verge of having friends, proper friends. It’s so very new and exciting and even though I’m still awkward as fuck, no one has run screaming for the hills so I’m taking that as a win.
I feel Pops’ bony elbow prod me.
“Dayz, do you see how they have that piece of shit on a pulley system? We should take note of that. You’re tiny and I’m old, so we need to work smarter, not harder”. I look up and see that Pops is right. DRMC has this guy hanging from a block and tackle pulley system, like you’d see at a mechanic shop to help remove engines from cars. I look back at Pops with my eyebrows raised. I mean, why the hell have neither of us thought of this before? I shake my head, disgusted with myself. Before I can berate myself too much, I hear the first of three quick punches and the air whooshing out of our guest. The chains rattle from where his body is now swinging. I look at Rhodie and I find his brutal beauty almost breathtaking. He has a feral gleam in his eye and yet his face remains passive.
“Who the fuck sent you?” Rhodie growls out. Our guest spits a mouthful of blood on the floor before sneering,
“I’m not telling you shit!” Rhodie looks at me and I give a slight chin tilt. I heard it too, the hint of an accent. Rhodie shrugs his shoulders and goes back to working this guy over methodically. I can tell by the punches he’s throwing that he’s hitting strategic places, places that will hurt like hell but will keep this guy fully conscious. By the time Rhodie has finished, Gun Guy is down a few teeth, his nose is so flat in his face he looks like Voldemort, and both eyes have swollen shut. I have no idea what the rest of his body looks like, but I bet he’s feeling like shit. Gun Guy is showing that he’s tougher than the last guest we had here. But Rhodie doesn’t seem the slightest bit phased as he wanders over to the table in the corner. I take a peek and see his tools are a lot different from mine. His are a lot larger and less pretty. Mine are very aesthetically pleasing if I do say so myself, but his, his are very manly. I see him pick up a small car battery and I straighten a little. I know I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet in excitement, but electric shock ‘therapy’ is something that Pops and I have dabbled with, and I’m keen to pick up some new tips.
I watch as Rhodie nods towards Rider, who presses the controller that lowers our guest towards the floor. I note that someone has put two buckets of water below his feet, and Rider lowers him enough until he’s standing in the water. Interesting. Rhodie then steps forward and using a knife that he took from his boot slices down the front of the guy’s combat jacket and the t-shirt beneath, not being careful at all and slicing a nice red line down this dude’s navel.
“Not sorry about that, motherfucker. Right, once more, who the fuck sent you?” Not a word is said, so Rhodie then attaches the clamps to Gun Guys’ nipples, and then attaches the other ends of the clamps to the car battery. The guy jolts and grunts, his head thrown back, body arching and I can see all the tendons in his neck. Rhodie takes the clamps off and the man slumps, eyes closed, drool dripping down his chin. Before he can fully come to, Rhodie has cut a hole in the front of his combat pants and underwear and is busy attaching the clamps to his cock and balls. This is the shit I wanted to see! I look towards Rhodie, taking in the back of him whilst he gets busy, noting how broad and big he is. He is wearing his cut over a black band t-shirt and the tattoos on his arms dance as he gets to work. His hands are large with thick fingers but not ungainly as he not so gently gets his clamps into place. I glance over toward Pops and he, too, is entranced. He catches my eye and waggles his eyebrows at me. I see Gus standing to the side of Pops, slowly shaking his head at us. I just smirk back at him before I hear a gurgle,
“Fuck stop! No, please no, leave my cock alone!”
“I don’t think I will, fucker” Rhodie lights him up again, the guy screaming and writhing, swinging back and forth. I almost feel sorry for him. Not. The screaming stops and I can see how laboured his breathing has become.
“Kraykowski sent me. He’s pissed that Alan is dead. I’m a nobody. I just wanted to show Kraykowski that I could cut it with the big boys and take over Alan’s workload now that he’s gone. He paid me $5k to shoot up your clubhouse. That’s all!” Rhodie grabs his face, bringing him nose-to-nose.
“Why is Kraykowski fucking with us?”
The guy splutters a little, he’s heaving and I’m sure I would be too if someone electrocuted my flaps
