Forsaken Control (Oathkeepers MC) Page 2
We all chuckle, remembering London’s story of Jamison deciding to run after the dog right when she was trying to fade the sides of his hair. Then there’s the time he thought the peanut butter was hair gel. He styled his little faux hawk with it, then smeared it over everything in the bathroom. That kid is something else; he’s way too smart for his age.
Prez nods. “Give Momma some love, Cain. Take some of the stress off her, yeah?”
“Yeah, Prez, I got you.”
He turns to me and fist bumps. “See ya, bro.”
“Later.”
“You want some grub, son?” Prez turns to me, blond eyebrow raised, after Cain is gone.
“No, thanks. I was gonna get a drink, unless you need me for sumthin’?”
“Nope. Shit’s straight at the moment. You know I’ll keep you informed.”
“Yeah. How’s Brently doing?”
He shrugs. “Just happy he’s finally here, putting work in as a prospect. I’m happy to have my boy ‘round the club where he belongs. Took him a long ass time to get here, but ain’t gonna bitch now that he finally made it. How’s he seem to you?”
“He doesn’t talk much to me, that’s why I was asking.”
“Well, give it a little time, son. You’re pretty cool with all the brothers. I’m sure he’ll warm up. If not, he’ll learn to, at least, respect ya’.”
I grunt and follow Prez as we leave the office. He locks up, squeezing my shoulder as he pockets the key.
We head down the hall; he goes left toward the kitchen, and I veer toward the bar area over on the right. We’re here at the clubhouse more than anyone else, so we’re really comfortable with each other. We’re both the loners. We both fucked up our relationships with our old ladies.
I can’t believe I even had an ol’ lady in the first place with how fucked up I am inside. Poor bitch never had a damn chance with me in a relationship. Well, not past the fuckin’. She was young and dumb. I wasn’t emotionally available to her, but I was always faithful. I knew I didn’t love her, but I never let her feel unwanted. Then the cunt had to go whoring around to the MOBA, Mexican Outlaw Bikers Association, like those fucks even know what association means.
Walking behind the long bar, I snatch up a bottle of good whiskey and my usual tumbler. Lazy asses around here don’t know how to wash shit, so I bought my own glass to use. I’m not going to drink after where some of their mouths have been.
I head to my usual booth. It’s nice and worn. Pretty sure the cushion has my ass print permanently imbedded. It makes me look more normal size, like everyone else around here.
Placing the bottle and my tumbler on the table, I sit, slide to my spot, fill up my cup, and stretch my long legs out in front of me. I probably should have eaten with the Prez before I start drinking, but fuck it.
I take a few sips of the dark amber liquid, savoring the rich flavor as it goes down smoothly. It always makes the things I have to do a little easier. I can beat someone to death if needed, then have some whiskey to dull my thoughts of it all.
The club door opens wide and sunlight pours in, briefly blinding me from the brightness, as Shay struts in. She’s this hot little Italian piece I’ve had some fun with. Doesn’t hurt that she’s a stripper and can give me some good private shows. Seeing the woman I want but can’t fully have running around here, it’s good to have a piece strutting around that I can fuck with if I want to.
Shay scans the room until her gaze lands on me, trudging over. “Hi, Ares.” She plops down in the booth right next to me.
I’m going to have to talk to Scratch about letting chicks through the gate before calling me or Cain. Brother hasn’t a fuckin’ clue about security precautions. A set of tits doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous. Brother sees a rack and pretty much goes dumb.
I grunt in response, not really in the mood for her today. I just watched the woman I want to be with enjoying herself with another man. I’m not jealous of her being happy. I just wish I was a piece of it.
“Are you grouchy?” Shay wraps her fingers around the hard muscle of my bicep and peers up at me with a slightly wrinkled forehead, concern written on her features. It’s about time I start pulling away from this bitch. She’s getting way too comfortable, latching onto me and shit. Pussy is good to have around, but I’m not trying to get another chick like my fuckin’ ex.
“Nope.” I shrug, glance at her quickly, and turn away.
I’m met with laughter, and it sends a tingle down my spine. I know that laugh. They walk through the bar. She has her arm laced through his, smiling happily. Of course, they’re smiling. They’re always fucking happy together.
“Brother!” He chortles, beaming a smile toward me, alongside hers.
“Yo.”
“Goin’ for a spin, you wanna come with?”
“No thanks, brother. Got some ass waiting,” I grumble, and Shay giggles beside me, eating up the attention.
I shrug her off my arm, sit up, and take a long swallow of my whiskey. The gulp burns a little, but not much, being the seasoned drinker I am. I’m no alcoholic, but I’ve drunk my fair share.
“All right then, man. Have a good time.”
I give him a two-finger salute, and he turns to leave. I briefly catch the glare she sends to Shay, her mouth stern and eyes shooting daggers, looking to kill.
I don’t know why, but for some reason that little look makes me fucking stiff as a rod. My pants grow tight, and I shift my legs, thinking about taking her, about having them both right here in the bar, bending her over the bar top and eating her pussy while she sucks his cock.
They make their way outside, the club door slamming closed as they leave. A small hand caresses my leg, rubbing over my hard cock a few times and I growl, frustrated and fed up.
“You weren’t kidding. You really are ready. You want it here or should we go to your room, daddy?” Shay questions excitedly.
“No, ‘we’ ain’t headed nowhere, Shay. I wasn’t talking about you and quit with the fuckin’ daddy talk. I told you that shit ain’t fuckin’ cute.”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope. Dead fuckin’ serious.”
She huffs. “Okay then, I guess this can happen another night.”
Shay grabs her blue bag in a tiff, shouldering it and stands at the end of the table, hands on her hips, waiting. I glance up at her, eyebrow raised. “Well, should I come back in a few hours or make other plans?”
“Do what the fuck you want.” I shrug, unconcerned.
“Fine, Ares. You have my number for when you’re out of your bad mood.” Shay spins, making her long dark brunette hair flail out in her wake.
Her gorgeous ass sways with her full hips as she heads back to the club door. She has a body made to taunt men, eliciting fantasies that will do nothing but get you in trouble. Too bad she doesn’t fill my own fantasies. The door slams closed again as she stomps out. What is it with people always slammin’ that fuckin’ door?
I can’t bring myself to care that she’s upset. I know I should, but we first met by her dancing here. Shay was grinding all over my brothers and shit. I get it, that’s her job and all, but any bitch I make mine won’t be all up on every one of my brothers too. No one would have any respect for her after that shit.
Spin walks in from the back hall, heading straight for the bar. His ominous figure is decked out in jeans and a wife beater. He has his long black Mohawk in four big spikes up the center of his head, and his forehead is wrapped in a black bandanna. He has some sick ass tatts covering his arms.
He grabs a beer and swaggers toward me with a bored expression. Brother has some freaky ass eyes too. One of them is this weird violet-purple color and the other is grey. The guy has pussy swarming all over his tattoo shop wanting to be with him.
“You come in the back?” I question as he slides into the booth opposite me.
“Yep. Whatcha been up to?”
“Not a fucking thing. You?”
“Ain’t shit. Shop
was slow so I packed up early,” he shrugs. “Wanna get inked?” He gestures with his chin to my knuckles. They always need touched up since I use them a lot. They’re big and full of scars.
“Fuck yeah, let’s do this.”
“Bet.”
“You know what? I feel like having a little party. You up for company?”
“Seriously, Ares? You know I’m down.” He narrows his eyes at me. “I’m just surprised this is comin’ from you.” I nod and Spin pulls his phone out to start calling people up. I sit, nursing my whiskey, watching him send mass text messages to the brothers and God knows who else.
I get a good buzz going on and before I know it, people are piling through the club door. Marilyn Manson’s “Tainted Love” gets turned up and there is laughter and booze everywhere. A blonde and redhead grind with each other in the middle of the bar’s floor, rubbing their hands all over each other’s bodies, leisurely pulling clothing items off. The brothers eat it up, sitting so we can easily watch them.
Spin has a scantily clad little Asian on his lap, kissing all over his neck. His mouth is parted slightly, and his crazy colored eyes are glazed over in pleasure as he harshly grips each of her thighs in his hands.
Twist, my blond MC brother who’s covered in traditional tattoos, does a few lines off the table near him, trying to relax. I doubt it’ll help, probably wind him up even more. That brother has demons worse than my own, I think. He’ll most likely end up getting into it with someone tonight. That’s how he usually works, and normally it’ll be 2 Piece or a prospect. There for a bit I thought Twist and 2 Piece were going to end up actually killing each other. Twist saved 2 Piece’s life a while back from a few members out of a different club, and since then, things between them have calmed down.
I take a long pull off the Budweiser Scratch brought me, damn near draining half of the bottle. When I set the bottle down, Shay is in front of me. She smirks mischievously, dressed in a short black skirt and grey sequin halter top.
London cuts in before Shay has a chance to open her mouth. “Go get my man a beer,” she orders, then turns and sits on Cain’s lap as he sits between Twist and me. London’s all dolled up in her pinup girl attire—red lips, big hair, cat eyes, and fitted old-fashioned skirt, looking the perfect part next to Cain. I think they are the sexiest fuckin’ couple I’ve ever seen. 2 Piece and Avery are hot, but London and Cain could be on a fuckin’ Harley magazine cover.
Shay glares, obviously peeved, but does as she’s told. As far as bitches go around here, you don’t fuck with London. Every brother respects London and her devotion to the club.
“Cupcake,” Twist chortles, leaning over as London gives him a small kiss on the cheek.
“Twizzler.” London smiles at him and then turns to me. “Hey, big man.”
“Yo.” I chin lift and fist bump Cain at the same time. I don’t touch London. None of us do besides Twist. He treats her like a little sister, and Cain would go fuckin’ nuts if another male got that close her, good friend or not. He’s fiercely devoted to London and his kid, Jamison. I respect the fuck outta him for it too.
“How’z it, brother?”
“Good, man. I’m surprised so many people showed up.” I throw my hand out, gesturing around the room.
“No shit, bro. No one ever hears ‘Ares wants to party’. We all wanted to see what the fuck was goin’ on.” He chuckles and I grunt.
Shay hands London the beer for Cain and looks at me with her big puppy dog eyes. That shit doesn’t work on me though. I ignore her as the club door opens, and I see 2 Piece and Avery walk in.
2 Piece scans the room, his eyes lighting up when they land on our little group. He tugs on Avery’s hand, his weathered, tattooed skin clashing with her smooth and creamy complexion, leading her over to us. She looks happy to follow, her cheeks slightly flushed. She’s wearing her signature daisy dukes with little lace shit around the bottom and a tank top. She has the best ass I’ve ever seen on a chick, both naked and with clothes on. Either she’s warm from the Texas heat or he just got done fucking her, and I’m pretty goddamn jealous of that thought.
“Twist, Cain, Ares, ‘sup?” 2 says as he pulls a seat up between me and Spin. Spin doesn’t give a shit though; he’s cool with 2 and fairly distracted by the Asian grinding on him.
I don’t know if Avery really cares for Spin, though. Brother threatened to lock her ass in a closet when her Russian buddy Nikoli and 2 Piece were fighting over her awhile back. We all thought it was hilarious, but she was pretty fucking heated about it. Her man and her best friend going at each other’s throats was enough for her to try to get people to jump in the middle. Spin schooled her real quick that around here we don’t jump in on each other’s shit unless it’s absolutely necessary. The Oath Keepers MC is all about freedom and no judgment. If you can solve an issue with a few fists meeting flesh, then so fuckin’ be it. Just one of the many things I love about the club.
Avery leans down, hugging London. They kiss each other on the lips, and I know the Brothers can’t help but imagine what it would look like with the two of them together. Fuck! That shit would be off-the-chain hot.
Avery stands, then turns to me, her sweet scent hitting me full force with her movement. She grazes her soft petite palm on my cheek, rubbing my scruffy dark beard; I tilt my head and lean into it slightly.
She bends toward me, giving me a short, tender kiss on my lips. I swallow harshly when her lips meet mine, as feelings explode through my body, attempting to pull me under. My hands turn to fists as I clench my fingers tightly together to keep myself from pulling her to me.
After a bittersweet moment, she pulls back. Her lustful eyes are full of heat as she stares into mine, then she shifts her warm honey irises toward 2 Piece. Avery shoots me a small smile, resting her hands on my large shoulders as she leans back up. With one small squeeze to my shoulder, she releases me to sit on 2 Piece’s lap.
I glance at him quickly to meet his gaze as he smirks knowingly. He knows exactly what she fucking does to men, and he loves it. His smirk makes me feel fucking stupid and I grit my teeth, trying to tamper down the beast inside, taunting me with memories.
My mother used to smirk at me a lot. Every time she would fuck someone in front of me, she’d have the same cocky little smirk painted on her worn face. A few specific memories stand out, always in the shadows, waiting to haunt me.
I remember her placed in the middle of the thin old blue rug. My mother’s stringy black hair, frizzy and halfway torn out from her ponytail. Her black and blue knees on the floor spread apart, looking small and boney. The fat man who had just been fucking her earlier, holding his thick black leather belt wrapped tightly around her throat as he stood behind her, pulling it tighter and tighter through the bronze clasp.
He chuckled gleefully, his voice full of evil as she was unable to speak anymore, her face going from deep red to a bluish and then finally fading to an odd pale color. My mother’s disgusting fake moans I was always forced to hear, finally cut off. I can still see her wide, empty brown eyes staring at me, almost pleading for me to do something. I sat in the corner, smirking, while I watched the life being drained from her.
I can’t remember how old I was; life was very scary and confusing back then. I know she fucked a bunch of random men to make money, and she always ended up giving the money she received to my father. Not that my father was around much, and when he was, he was even harsher on me than she was. Fucking prick.
“You want another beer, Ares? Or how about I dance for you?” Shay pulls me from my last memory of my mother in the living room, by running her hand along my arm.
All these fucking couples around, and I sit here alone. Shay doesn’t count. She’ll jump all over someone else’s dick in a heartbeat. It’s probably for the best I’m alone, since I’m pretty fucked up. I wish I was a better man, but I enjoy being sinister a little too much. It helps me feed
the demon lurking inside.
“Dance,” I grunt as “Cowboy” by Kid Rock plays loudly and she smiles, seeming pleased I’m giving her my attention. Shay loves any attention she can get from men.
Her hips sway side to side with the beat, her skirt edging up slightly, just enough so that I can see the little crease at the bottom of her ass cheeks. My brothers and me all sit back and watch her. There’s one thing Shay can do well and that’s dance. Her sinful thighs part, giving sneak peeks of a purple scrap of material, barely covering her pussy.
She turns, facing me, rubbing her hands over her tits. Her bra straps fall off her shoulders and she sucks on her plump bottom lip.
I’m surprised when I feel a soft, petite hand in mine and fingers wind through my own. Clearing my throat, I glance over at Avery and she grins, her eyes alight with mischief. Reminds me of the very first time I met her. No one in the club really knew about her. 2 Piece had been sneaking her in his room so none of us had met her yet.
I was standing in the hallway next to the bar, chugging whiskey. There’s a little closet, used to store kegs, with missing doors that I like to drink next to sometimes. I don’t normally down liquor like that, but I was trying to chase away the fucking memories I battle with.
A door down the hall opens and “La Grange” by ZZ Top pours out of the room until the door shuts, silencing the hallway again. I turn away but I’m taken off guard when a hot little thing with Auburn hair and a nice thick, round booty walks past me.
My right arm darts out, snatching her before she gets too far away from me, and I slam her small body into the kegs as my large, rough hand rests around her throat.
“Who are you?” I growl so deeply you’d think I was fucking Batman or something.
“I’m Avery,” she squeaks, the pulse in her throat fluttering like a scared butterfly under my fingers.
“Oh yeah? Is it my turn now, Avery?”