CHAPTER 19
Sahvrin swung his leg over his Land Dragon and gripped the black leather-clad horned-handles. His moss-colored iron beast met his ass and cock like an eager sex slave and that”s what set her apart from his Swamp Dragon. When he woke her, she greeted him with growling cock-teasing breaths, and when he opened her up, Mon Dieu, she fucked him like a wild beast. In his celibate world, she was the only one he let turn him on.
The sudden idea of having another seat custom made that fit him and His Petite sent a hot current through his balls. He could customize it so she orgasmed on every ride with her tits pressed into his back and arms wrapping him tight. Mon fucking Dieu, clear his schedule, he must create that.
“We got four Bayou Bishops headin’ to a pack of demon Roulettes,” Zep said with a happy grin. “Sounds like an unfair fight.”
Sahvrin stomped down on his beast’s kicker. “Time to wake, Ma Belle Noir.” She greeted him with a greedy rumble as he worked his hips for that perfect fit in her tight mouth. The night was just right for a free ride on the back roads to town which allowed them to forego the black wide-brimmed hats for Swamp Crushers.
“We goin’ cold?” Jek asked on the mic.
“We’ll stop at the weapons room and pick up some knuckle busters just in case.”
“That’s it?”
Sahvrin belted a few barks out of Belle Noir. “Our leverage is more lethal than any heat we could carry.”
“Alright,” he said, like he hoped he was right.
“If it gets messy, we fight our way out.”
“Yeaaahhhh,” Zep said with a sadistic glee and “Laissez les bons temps rouler!”
The blood lust festering in Sahvrin since he’d found His Petite roiled with excitement. “Just remember we’re not there to start a fight. But if they start it, we kill ‘em.”
****
Once in town, the festival crowds began to thicken and Sahvrin let Belle Noir clear a path with her thunderous pops. His brothers’ dragons joined in, creating a carpet bomb of air-shaking rumbles across several blocks.
It didn’t matter the gender or the age, everybody stopped and awed at their Land Dragons. Being the festival, they cheered and did other things His Petite wouldn’t like. But his brothers revved their beasts in appreciation, inviting more of the tit show.
Sahvrin switched his blue tooth to intercom. “Lot of young kids in this crowd.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Zep muttered. “Celibate Sahvrin with the perfect girlfriend wants everybody to be a fuckn’ saint.”
Sahvrin couldn’t resist a grin. “Maybe I’ll inspire you to put an end to that cock-rage-war you all up in.”
“Or not.”
Sahvrin revved Belle Noir, letting her roars beat against her iron lungs. “Keep your dick in for this ride,” he said. “You can see tits anytime.”
There was no parking near the packed-out Roulettes. The amount of leather in the crowd meant other chapters were likely there for the festival, so parking a block away was as good as it got.
“Set your Dragon alarms to five,” he said, climbing off Belle Noir. The modified boat horns he’d installed on their bikes were an auditory killer. Unless you were deaf, level five was like getting a magnified alligator bellow right in the eardrum. .
“I don’t like leaving Fer-Noir this far out,” August said.
“Make sure your app is on for any alarm alerts. Trust me, Mon Frere, nobody will fuck with her.”
They got the usual stares as the four of them made their way in Bishop attire to the front entrance of the club where the deep thumping said a live band played inside.
As fate would have it, the same Mr. T dude from their previous meeting stood at the door, checking membership.
When he saw them approaching, he ducked his head to the guy next to him, sending him inside. They got to Mr. T who acted like they’d pulled Judges on him a week before and now he was ready to even the score. Sahvrin walked up and leaned in his face. “Tell Thadious the Bishops are here to speak to him.”
“Already announced you.” The ground words barely managed to escape the fury of his tight lips.
“Very good,” Sahvrin praised like he would any dog, adding swamp swagger to his grin. The amount of adrenalin humming in his blood said vengeance had drawn its bow across every muscle in his body.
Another Jethro giant appeared at the door, looking around then eying them with a nod. “Follow me.”
Sahvrin stared into Mr. T’s eyes as he passed, letting him know his bloodlust burned hotter than his, before heading inside. The six-foot giant led them upstairs to a guarded door that opened when he arrived.
Sahvrin quickly estimated about twenty males and twice as many women packed in the private barroom. He eyed some of those women and his blood burned at seeing most were teenagers. His escort led them to a corner with a large round table where Thadious and four other men sat, two teenagers for each sick fuck.
“Well, well, well,” Thadious said sending the girls off. A good thing since Sahvrin couldn’t think around the urge to say fuck deals let’s just kill. “What can I do for the Royal Kings of the Swamp?”
“Here to negotiate,” he said, eying the other men at the table, wondering who they were.
“Where’s ole Lazure,” he said with that tight smile, dragging his father’s name along Sahvrin’s raw nerves. “Where’s the First Bishop.” His glossy eyes lowered down him then back up. “You come to shoot me in my own club?” He spasmed out a laugh that nobody shared and Sahvrin showed he was unarmed as did his brothers.
“Wanna’ make a deal.”
“And what if I don’t wanna make a deal with you?” he sneered.
Sahvrin stared at him long and hard. “Then I’ll skip the middleman and do business with the Diablos De La Guerra myself.”
A dark coldness settled over Thadious’s face.
“What kind of deal you wanna make?” the man on his right asked.
Sahvrin turned. “Who might you be?”
The man’s laugh never reached his eyes, now locked on him. “Remy Dupre. President of the New Orleans Roulettes.”
Sahvrin eyed his extended hand then raised his gaze back up, right as it hit his brain like a bomb that his daughter might be there in this filth. “I want three things,” he said, his rage at a dead calm.
The man shrugged and spread his arms out with the arrogance befitting a child-fucker. “Name it. There’s plenty to go around. How much you want?”
Sahvrin’s tongue moved slowly in his mouth before his jaw finally unhinged. “I want a woman, her daughter, and a fight.”
A brief silence passed before Remy glanced around the table then back at him. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
He leaned back, grinning, then spread his arms. “There’s plenty of that to pick from but something tells me you have a particular favorite?”
“The woman you sent to my swamps to fuck me for that deal I’m here making. And her daughter.”
The mirth in Remy’s eyes cooled. “You want my woman and my daughter?”
Sahvrin couldn’t have enjoyed hearing him say those words more. “Not your daughter. My daughter. I’m Sahvrin Wolfgang Bishop. She’s Savvie Wolf Bishop. You want my dot-connecting skills, Mon Ami?”
To see the raw bloodlust in his gaze brought Sahvrin’s smile. “It’s not often a man gets to decide his fate, but tonight, yours and all your brothers is in your hands. But the clocks ticking while theSwamp Horde awaits your answer. You livin’? Or you dyin’ at the hands of The Diablos De La Guerra you’ve both signed contracts with?”
Sahvrin stared at him, his smile big enough for all of them.
“What kind of fight,” Remy asked, biting the bait.
“Fifty of mine against fifty of yours. I pick the place, you just show up. No lethals. We fight till you can’t get up.”
The cockiness eased back into Remy’s gaze. “How about we fight to the death? Unless you’re afraid to die.”
Sahvrin let himself laugh before shaking his head at him. “And how you plan on dealing arms from the grave, Mon Ami?”
Remy stared at him, rage making his upper lip twitch as he leaned forward with a low, “How do you plan to?”
Sahvrin slammed his palm on the table. “Then we fight to the death and figure the rest out later, qui?” He regarded Thadious who looked like a bulldog on a short leash then back to Remy.
The cold calculations in the depths of his stare could only mean good things. “Sure,” he said, his voice hard. “And you can have the mother as down payment, but Savvie stays with me until you make good on this fight.”
“No fucking deal,” Sahvrin said, his voice matching his. “Your whore and my daughter I get this very night, or you’re done. The fight is lagniappe for both of us. You get the chance to gain all of it back with this bat-tie, yes? You kill me and all mine, and I agree to give you the keys to every waterway in that swamp. And if you lose, well… I win everything.”
Remy leaned forward and jabbed his pointer finger on the table. “I keep Savvie till the fight. You can have her if you win.”
“No-no-no-no-no,” Sahvrin assured, his rage back at calm. “You give me my daughter this fucking night, or you will never enter my swamps.”
“Brother, if she’s not your daughter…” Thadious muttered, earning Remy’s fist slamming the table next to him.
“Shut your mouth, you fat, dumb, motherfucker.” He pointed in his face, his breaths seething. “You’re the reason this shit is at our door.”
Thadious’s hands raised in deference, his head even bowing a little like a bad dog.
“I tell you what, Mon Ami. I will fight you this night, here on your turf. No weapons but our fists. Last man standing gets the right to the girl tonight?”
The offer brought the man to his feet. “You got yourself a fucking deal.” He glanced back at Thadious. “Downstairs. Clear a spot.” He removed his jacket, eyeing Sahvrin with a lusty grin. “Hell, let em’ place bets.”
Sahvrin”s adrenalin hammered as he gave a light shrug. “Waste not, want not,” he said, following the demon out the room.
“You sure about this?” Jek murmured as they headed down. “I mean on their turf?”
“I’m sure I’m going to knock his fucking teeth in and get my daughter. Let our Freres know to get ready to fight.”
Downstairs, the band stopped playing and a voice boomed out, “Ladies and coonasses…can I have your attention.” It was Thadious, passing his fat ringed fingers over his head as if he had hair, grin as shit-eating as ever. “Tonight, we have a special treat for you. Something we haven’t done before but hell, if it turns out you all like it, then why not do it again?”
So, clear the floor meant mop up.
“For the first time ever, here and only here at the Breaux Bridge Roulettes, we’re gonna have ourselves an old fashioned fight.”
The cheers erupted and he laughed, nodding with glee. “Two men will fight till knock-out. No lethals and no weapons but their fists. Tonight, we’ll let those who want to stay and watch place $20.00 bets. Those who bet on the winner split the winnings after ten percent goes to The Roulette.” He pointed right. “Marie at the back will take your name and money. Fight starts in thirty minutes!”
Sahvrin removed his coat and handed it to Jek then worked on his shirt buttons.
“He made a quick buck off of that one,” Jek muttered, pulling out his wallet.
“What are you doing?” Sahvrin wondered.
He paused, eying him. “Betting. We’re watching,” he said.
Sahvrin handed him his shirt next, stretching his neck while eying his own money scheming brother. “The winnings go to charity.”
He glanced at Remy’s ripped torso covered in tattoos.
“Hello Lord Dumb Bells,” Zep muttered. “Hailing from the New Orleans Gym For Pussies.”
“Be sure and sand the floor with those cattle guard abs,” August added with a low chuckle.
“Remember that seven-hundred-pound alligator you knocked out?” Jek said next to Sahvrin’s ear. “Take your time and make it last. Don’t wanna scare them away from the war you brilliantly talked them into.”
Sahvrin met his grin with his own. “You like that?”
He answered with shuddering orgasmic sounds.
“Is that Savvie?” Zep wondered, nodding.
Sahvrin turned and his heart lurched at seeing her in the flesh. “Holy fuck.”
“That’s what you’re fighting for,” August reminded him.
“Fuck,” Sahvrin muttered.
Jek leaned in. “What?”
“She’s watching,” Sahvrin realized.
Zep moved closer. “You ain’t nervous, are you?”
“I’m about to beat the shit out of the man she thinks is her dad.”
“Ohhhhh,” August whispered, while Zep hissed and Jek added a holy shiiiit, right.
“Maybe go easy on him, go slow,” August suggested.
“Nah,” Zep said. “You need to make it quick as much as I want it to last and last.”
He was right. There was no way he was going to force his daughter to watch him beat the man she thought was her father. She’d hate him.
“She might not even wanna leave with us,” Zep said quietly.
“Yeah, shit, you’re right,” Jek agreed. “Maybe we can call Katrina, let her talk to her.”
Yeah. Let her lying mother fix that shit.
“What move you gonna use?” Jek asked, eager now.
“Won’t know till I see him dance,” Sahvrin said, deciding to remove his boots and socks too. Slippery footing was always a problem with alligator wrangling, and if he was going to make it quick, he’d want grip. The knocking out part could be done with a choke hold. His bloodlust frothed at the idea he’d not get many licks on him.
Sahvrin watched Remy talk to Savvie. The expressions on her face started with confusion then went to worry. Her eyes found Sahvrin, and he was stuck in her stare, wishing he knew what he’d told her. Remy yelled at her, and she jumped, snapping her attention back to her warden in obvious fear. But then he grabbed her shoulder and she winched in pain, causing his revenge to boil with new fucking plans.
“Fighters, meet in the circle and shake hands,” Thadious boomed, getting a glare from Remy. “Or just meet in the circle,” he said, his spazzy laugh like an auditory buckshot across the room.
Entering the circle, Remy moved into a standard boxer’s stance.
“Fight!” Thadious yelled.
Sahvrin staggered his feet with his hands up, palms open, watching for that telling twitch. Remy faked a few punches then finally threw a hard right. Sahvrin dodged it while shoving Remy’s arm down, putting his face in the path of his thrusting knee. The blow staggered him sideways, and he grabbed an arm, sweeping his leg, then moved straight into a shoulder breaking lock on the floor. Remy erupted in bellowing yells, banging his free arm as his body bowed from the excruciating pain.
Sahvrin released him and jumped back up, letting him get to his feet. “Come on,” he called, craving his blood as he kept him in his kill zone. “You like to scare little girls? That makes you feel like a man?” Sahvrin threw a punch, connecting with his jaw. His head snapped back, and he came at him in a rage. Sahvrin side stepped, bringing his foot into his stomach then grabbed his head and rammed it three times into his knee before shoving him off.
Remy staggered back into the crowd, holding his gushing nose while angling his head at him. He shoved people as he came back in the circle with his fists up, same boxing stance. Sahvrin faked left, then right, making him flinch. “You scared, man? Come on. Come on.”
He ran again and tackled Sahvrin to the floor. His knee found his ribs once and Sahvrin spun out from under him and flipped him onto his upper back, putting a lock on his leg. Again he yelled and hit the floor with a fist while Sahvrin put more pressure on it, coming just shy of snapping it over and over.
After he screamed enough, he let go and nailed him in the nose with an elbow before jumping to his feet.
Remy fought to get up, but his leg was useless now. Sahvrin walked up to him and slapped him across the face with his open hand. “Come on, King Cock, that all you got?”
On his one good knee, Remy lunged, getting the heel of Sahvrin’s foot in his chest. He followed him to the floor again and put his arm in a lock, pulling till he got those toe-curling screams of agony. This time, he yanked till he got a loud crack. The crowd erupted in shocked gasps and yells, while Remy roared in agony.
Sahvrin got up. “Come on, get up!” he yelled. “You like to fuck little girls, you like to sell them?”
Sahvrin’s rage was at more, more, more blood. He grabbed the back of his head and held tight, slamming his fist into his face without stopping.
The crowd erupted in yells and Sahvrin didn’t quit even when his brothers tried to rip him off of him.
Arms came up under his, yanking him away. “You’re gonna fucking kill him!”
“I want to fucking kill him,” he roared.
“Think of Savvie!” he yelled back, dragging him away.
The yelling around them became deafening as fighting broke out.
“I got Savvie!” He thought it was August he heard over the noise and spun around. Spotting them, he hurried over, grabbing her by the arm and pushing through the madness in the direction of the exit.
Savvie got ripped from his hold by falling bodies then August snatched her arm, pushing and kicking his way forward with Sahvrin and Jek catching up. They all made it out the door except Sahvrin now blocked by Mr. T, filling the entrance. The second his wild gaze landed on Sahvrin, the bloodlust they’d shared roared back with the giant coming for him. Before he got stuck in his kill zone, Sahvrin shot his leg out and slammed his heel into his knee, bending him just enough to bring that big head in reach. Sahvrin swung three rapid hammer punches at his temple, staggering him back. He ran at him before he got his balance and plowed his left shoulder into his hip, bringing the fat bastard to the ground on his stomach. Sahvrin scrambled onto his back and grabbed under his meaty jaw, yanking back hard. He yelled as he pulled with all his strength, ready to snap his fucking spine.
Jek appeared out of nowhere, knuckle busters plowing into Mr. T’s face till he went limp.
“Sahvrin!”
Sahvrin staggered up, looking around and got a fist to the side of the head. He spun and latched on to the first neck he could reach and yanked down, slamming the dude’s face into his knee. Fists and boots came from every direction, beating him down to the ground. He rolled hard left then right, grabbing a leg and pulling.
The loud chirps of police vehicles rose above the chaos and bodies ran in different directions while Sahvrin made his way to his feet searching frantically for his daughter.
“Sahvrin!”
He spotted Jek and his brothers at the edge of the crowd leaving with Savvie. He ran to catch up, racing down the sidewalk with them.
“I called Katrina,” Jek said, winded. “She talked to Savvie and told her we’re taking her to her.”
“She’ll have to ride with you,” Sahvrin said out of breath, remembering his single seat. He wiped blood from his right eye then helped her on Jek’s bike, putting a helmet on her. “Hold on tight. Understand?”
She nodded and he climbed on his own bike, glancing at August and Zep finding only scrapes and bruises on them. He stomped down on his kicker and let Bell Noir bark with thunder. His brothers’ bikes joined in as they made their way in the opposite direction of the mess behind them.
With his daughter. Mon Dieu, he fucking had his daughter.