The Savage Outlaw (Sins of Fire Real Anarchy West #4)

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Face the Faceless

P riest did not like the idea of returning back home without a motorcycle. Riding shotgun in an all-black van, feeling four wheels on the ground—it just didn’t make sense and it certainly didn’t feel right.

He knew he wasn’t exactly medically ready to jump on a growling horse made of steel, gasoline, and pure outlaw adrenaline.

Virus turned into the lot and that’s when Priest started to smile just a little.

Up until then he thought about his motorcycle and the fact that his cock piercing was no longer a part of him. That cute-as-fuck nurse he exchanged a few words with had been the one that removed it from him during his arrival to the hospital. And he knew by the way her face turned red and the shock in her eyes that she hadn’t stopped thinking about his cock.

Yeah, it didn’t help matters that his fucking wife was back in town, snooping around, chasing problems. But all she wanted was Priest to die so she could collect some insurance money. Not to mention find herself in a delicate spot with the club, which had a rule for taking care of the spouse of a patched in member in the event of that member’s death.

Angelica was a big mistake. Tits, slit, a deceptive smile, and nothing more than a fucking stupid dare to get hitched, with the promise of anal sex afterwards.

Priest married her. She gave up her ass to him. All a fair exchange, but she refused to let the marriage end after that.

Priest took a deep breath and focused on the party waiting for him. A handmade sign hung up— WELCOME BACK FROM THE DEAD PRIEST! Priest leaned forward to get a better look.

“Virus,” he said. “Those marks on the sign…”

“Yup,” Virus said. “Tits. All the deecees painted their tits and pressed them against the sign. Just for you.”

There were tits everywhere. Not just the tit prints on the welcome home sign, but everywhere Priest looked, women stood eager, ready to lift their shirts, showing off their chests to the outlaw who survived death.

Priest couldn’t get enough of it either. All those beautiful shapes and sizes. Small and perky. Deep pink nipples. Wide, rounded areolas on some, others with light, rose-pink nipples that were small buttons.

Tits everywhere.

The van came to a stop and the guys on their motorcycles all made a straight line. Cyrus stepped off his ride, stood in front of it and gestured for Priest to get out of the van. As he opened the door, the guys all began to throttle their engines. It then became a thundering roar of motorcycle engines, the air filling with the sweet smell of burning gasoline.

Priest stepped down from the van, adjusted his leather cut, and walked toward Cyrus. The two outlaws embraced in a hug. Cheers mixed with the throttling engines.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d be here again, brother,” Cyrus said to Priest. “I know we’re the bad guys, but we must be doing something right if it wasn’t your time.”

“Fuck that,” Priest said. “Sometimes the devil wins the battle, Prez .”

Cyrus laughed.

Priest then turned to face the gathering. With a wave of Cyrus’s hand, all the motorcycle engines died out. Everyone waited for Priest to give a speech.

After a handful of quiet seconds, Monte leaned toward a deecee and gave her a shove.

“The fuck you doing, cunt? Get out there and give that outlaw what he wants.”

Monte whispered that with a grin and the deecee quickly trotted her way toward Priest. Off went her shirt. Down went her bra to the ground. She stepped over it and didn’t stop moving until she was within Priest’s grasp.

Priest cupped her full tits, his thumb stroking her nipples, his cock pulsing with need. He was backed up more than he ever remembered in his life. A guy like Priest going that long without ejaculation would be like the sun forgetting to rise for a week or two. Unnatural and unheard of.

As Priest squeezed those big, perfect tits in his hands, he had a vision of taking her into the van. He could suck on her tits until they were raw red while she jerked his cock into submission. Then at the last second, shove her mouth down onto his cock to make sure all his cum ended up in her belly and not messing up the inside of the van.

White spots danced in front of his face and a stab of pain hit the back of his head. His hands dropped away from the tits in front of him. Priest turned his head and looked at Cyrus.

“I need to see him right now,” Priest said.

“Brother, come on,” Cyrus said. “Have a drink. Get your dick sucked.”

Priest turned away from the topless deecee . Again, a move that was totally unnatural and unheard of. A slight dullness moved through the coming home party as Priest walked toward Cyrus, leaving the voluptuous deecee standing there, topless and confused.

“Right. Fucking. Now.”

Priest growled each word at the President of SOFRAW . As VP, Linc stepped in to ensure the safety of the president.

“Priest, we need a meeting about everything that’s been going on,” he said. “We’ve taken a vote. Right now, let’s just enjoy this moment.”

“ Enjoy this moment ,” Priest growled, looking at Linc. “Having one girl sucking your cock is making you talk like a domesticated pussy, Linc. Want me to lick your clit, huh?”

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Linc asked.

Slade jumped in to keep everyone calm. “Hey, we’re all good here. It’s emotional right now. For everyone.”

Slade looked at Cyrus with a look that said, Come on, Prez. You know what’s right here.

Cyrus knew what was right. He just figured Priest would be eager to get his cock and balls drained properly and his stomach filled with whiskey first.

“Of course, brother,” Cyrus said. “This is your homecoming. You survived death. You beat the devil. You told hell to go fuck itself and it spit you right back out here. You want to see the rat who sent you there? Of course.”

Priest felt his heart thump just a little bit harder. Face to face with the scumbag rat who turned on the club and tried to kill him? Priest looked over his shoulder.

Without hesitation, the deecee cupped her hands under her tits and began to shake them and play with them. She licked her bottom lip and threw a lusty glance at Priest that could have woken him from a coma if he were still in one.

Priest knew there was enough cunt to keep him busy all night and for the days to come.

Right now, he had a pre-planned meeting with Fitz to attend.

It was Cyrus, Linc, and Slade, followed by Priest.

Nobody spoke a word. Nobody knew what Priest was going to do, not even Priest himself. It was up to Cyrus to keep things as calm as possible right now. That’s the reason why he would have preferred to have kept Priest at the party, playing with tits, cunt, getting his dick sucked, and drinking whiskey until his brain was mushy and full.

As Cyrus reached for the old, rusted garage door, Slade gave a small nudge. The two looked at each other. Leave it to Slade to always be the voice of reason, even in silence. An unspoken warning that maybe they should wait for this until tomorrow. They needed to sit in prayer first. There needed to be discussions.

Cyrus was well aware of it. Even Linc. As VP he could have stopped this from happening, but chose not to. This was a lost cause and that’s why Cyrus opened the door and stepped into the old garage.

It smelled heavily like iron and piss. Priest pushed by everyone and stopped when he saw Fitz.

Arms above his head, chained to a metal bar. His T-shirt bloodied and torn up. Jeans. No socks and shoes. Under him a semi-wet spot on the ground where his own piss would sometimes eventually drip after running down his own two legs.

His eyes fluttered and his head bobbed side to side.

“Wake the fuck up or I’m gutting you right now,” Priest growled.

The sound of Priest’s voice woke Fitz up easily.

“Thought I was dead, huh?” Priest asked. “Maybe I am dead. Maybe you’re dead too. Maybe this is hell.”

Priest lifted his fists and flexed his hands, cracking all of his knuckles without needing to touch them.

“Brother, we took a vote on the Doctor ,” Slade said.

He had to get it off his chest. Out of respect for the club.

Priest looked back.

“That’s right,” Linc said. “We finally caught this motherfucker and we chained him up right here and we had to take a vote.”

“I never said to proxy my vote,” Priest said.

“You weren’t available to speak for yourself,” Cyrus said. “You know how it goes, brother.”

“ Dr. Smile ,” Priest said.

“It’s the right thing,” Slade said.

“Come on out to your party,” Cyrus said. “This fucker isn’t going anywhere. He’ll be kept alive, no worries.”

“Take him down,” Priest said.

“Priest,” Linc said.

“I said to take him down,” Priest said. “Let him fall to the ground. Let me enjoy myself here for a while. I won’t kill him. I give you my word. I’m not going to kill him. Go take a fucking vote if you have to. It’s my party… I’ll cut up a fucking rat if I want to…”

“Jesus Christ,” Slade whispered.

“This is on you, Prez ,” Linc whispered to Cyrus.

“P-priest,” Fitz whispered in a dry voice. “Oh, fuck, man. You’re… okay. That’s good. I’m so sorry, man. It wasn’t… it wasn’t my fault. You know?”

Priest grabbed Fitz by the throat and squeezed for the kill.

“I’m not letting go until you unhook him,” Priest called out. “Unless you want to fucking attack me. Go for it. Hit me. Stab me. Fucking shoot me!”

Priest’s voice boomed throughout the garage.

Cyrus grabbed Linc’s leather cut and the two hurried toward Fitz. The rat’s face was already turning red with a touch of purple. That meant Priest had his grip locked in. The two outlaws quickly undid the chains that kept Fitz on his toes—literally.

For a second Fitz remained suspended in air, thanks to Priest’s inhuman strength as he held the rat by his throat. Priest then opened his hand and Fitz crumbled down to the piss stained floor.

“The vote is final, brother,” Cyrus reminded Priest. “I don't want you ending up on the wrong side of a vote next. The table is short as it is. We’re under a lot right now, Priest. Not having you around set us back too.”

“I know that,” Priest said. “I gave you my word. I’m not going to kill him. Death would be too easy for this piece of shit. Death brings relief. Death ends suffering. Makes no sense why people are afraid of death.”

Priest used his right foot and rolled Fitz to his back. He pressed his foot down onto Fitz’s chest with force.

“Smells like piss in here,” Priest said. “I guess this is, what, some kind of rundown bathroom? I assume there’s a drain under you, huh, Fitz- y ?”

Priest unzipped his jeans and wrestled himself free. Linc and Slade chose to look away. Hearing it was sick enough. The wet splashing sound of liquid on skin, hitting the ground. Fitz groaning, spitting and coughing. When Priest finished pissing, he shook his monstrous cock a few times and then put it away.

“Now I can get started here,” Priest said. He put his right hand out. “I’m going to need a knife.”