Chapter Eighteen
Cherry
Several long weeks later, the ASMC finally struck back. They claimed responsibility for a torched warehouse on the edge of Baton Rouge, where IMC rented storage for bike parts and supplies. Ruger called it “a blazing middle finger to the idea of a truce or understanding.”
It took a day, but Cherry found where their leadership had holed up and sent out an all-hands call, with a rally point a few miles from the true location, a bar. He kept an open line with the bartender, handset laid on the countertop so he could listen in on the loud bragging the ASMC was doing.
Within twenty minutes, they had enough members at the meeting place, so Cherry sent out another all-hands text, pointing everyone to the bar.
With tension high they mounted up, and he rode out knee-to-knee with Busk; Denis’ worried *Stay safe* text burning in his pocket.
The fight was quick and brutal. IMC had brought only fists and chains, leaving an ASMC prospect the first one spitting blood and teeth.
Cherry pushed hard to make ASMC scatter, and he smiled when they left the bar via four different doors.
Each man’s only thought was their individual safety.
He chased the VP out to the lot and caught up to him just before he swung a leg over a bike.
Cherry didn’t announce himself, just swung the length of chain at the man’s legs, taking them out from under him.
The man howled, rolling to his back with hands up defensively.
“The fuck, man?” The lack of eloquence made Cherry laugh.
“Reminding all of you to stay clear of the IMC, because we’ll go hard next time. Scatter your bones in a dozen bayou. You want to convince your president to relocate, or I’ll keep hunting you.”
Cherry took a hit to the ribs and swung around to find two ASMC members standing there with only bare fists. He threatened with the chain and both broke, bolting away without a word.
“They don’t give a shit about anything.” Cherry probed the growing lump along his ribcage. “They also aren’t any use in a fight, but I suspect you’re realizing that now.”
The man clawed his way upright and gestured to the bike.
Cherry nodded, advising, “Might wanna have someone give me a shout when you’ve worked out your plan.
We’ll hit you again, and the next time we’ll be playing hardball.
” The VP nodded and climbed aboard the bike.
In less than a minute, he was gone up the dirt road, not even looking back at the five or six members laid out in the grass.
“He’s a shit officer.” Cherry turned, Busk walking up. Together they surveyed the little bit of damage given to the IMC members. They’d taken a few hits, but gave worse, and as the dust settled, the line held.
It would be up to the presidents of the clubs to sort out a truce, or the next lesson the ASMC learned would be a final one for many of them.
“Good job, Enforcer. Your intelligence was completely spot on.” Busk turned as more IMC members rolled to a stop in the bar’s lot. “I think I need to buy a couple of rounds for the locals and our guys. That way they’ll get the stories told, letting them expand from there.”
“Sounds like a good plan. I’m going to check the ones still down, figure out what we’re going to do with them.” Cherry shook his head. “Hopefully they can all ride out. That’d be better than me rounding up a few cages.”
“You get done with that, come inside and get a beer. Celebrate with your brothers.”
“Yes, sir.” Cherry grinned at him, still riding the high of the successful operation. “See you in a few, brother.”
Back at Denis’ place that night, bruised and still buzzing with adrenaline, Cherry let Denis patch him up.
The man’s hands were gentle, but the look in his eyes fierce.
“You’re insane,” Denis muttered, but his kiss was hungry, claiming, and Cherry sank into it, the tension bleeding out of his muscles.
Hands roaming up and down Denis’ sides, Cherry let himself relax for the first time. “Not running,” Cherry said against his lips, echoing that first night.
Denis smiled, sharp and sure. “Not letting you.”
“You done playing Nightingale nurse?” Cherry gripped Denis’ hips and rolled them, landing on top of Denis. “Because we could do some other roleplay if you wanted.” He ground his hips against Denis’ and found a matching erection. Groaning, he urged, “Tell me you’re ready.”
“Well, it’ll take a little work ...”
“I can put in the work, my guy. Long as you’re ready to start now.” Cherry leaned in for another kiss. It was so good he sought out another that was slower, longer, and somehow hotter. “God, Denis, you just do it for me.”
“Backatcha.” Denis nuzzled close, brushing against Cherry’s lips in a way that seemed to set every atom on fire.
Hands brushed the front of Cherry’s pants and he pulled back to accommodate Denis’ seeking fingers.
Those same fingers quickly wrapped around Cherry’s cock and stroked slowly.
“God.” Cherry let his eyes close, straining to hold still as Denis played.
Then the heat and pleasure went away and Cherry’s eyes snapped open to see Denis fumbling with the drawer of the coffee table.
“Dammit.” The drawer pulled out, spilling everything on the floor. “We need to move this to the bedroom. And remind me later to restock our supplies.” Denis leaned up and pressed a kiss to Cherry’s lips. “Because spontaneity apparently needs planning.”
Cherry laughed as he moved, and reached for Denis’ hand to pull him upright. “Planned or not, get your ass to the bedroom, my Guy. I want to love on you.”
“You do not need to tell me twice, baby.”
Cherry slipped an arm around Denis’ waist. “Come on, my Guy.” He paused and looked up at Denis.
“You gotta tell me if I’m pressing past any kind of line you might have, Denis.
” He swallowed and heard his throat click, a dryness there that hadn’t been present throughout the entire fight tonight.
“I’m pulling you into my world pretty fast. Let me know if we need to do more talking, or slow down, or anything.
” Closing his eyes, he burst out, “Fuck! Why is this so goddamned hard?”
“Because it matters.” Denis pressed a kiss against Cherry’s temple.
“Because life is hard and real, and in our face. And sometimes bloody.” He pulled back and Cherry was looking up into his eyes.
“Did I tell you I finally asked Judge Cooper about the tape recorder in the PD’s room?
” Cherry shook his head. “He claimed no knowledge, and took me down to the room ASAP to check it out. The set-up was gone.”
“Dammit, who would have had time to yank things out?”
“Me.”
Cherry felt his eyes get round. “You? What the fuck?”
“I have pictures of the illegal tape station, but if I need to, I can surface the actual tape and device. There are some interesting conversations that happened in that room.” Denis grinned, spreading his feet as he pulled Cherry close.
“The look on Cooper’s face was telling, because he didn’t know about it.
There was no fear or anger at it being gone.
He probably is still waiting for the punchline of a joke I wasn’t making. ”
“Interesting. If not him, then who?”
“I’ve got my suspicions, and right up there is the state AG wannabe. The main bailiff is his cousin on his momma’s side, and they’re thick as thieves.” Denis leaned in and captured Cherry’s mouth, his eyes fluttering closed. “Now, where were we?”
Cherry angled his jaw, inviting more of Denis’ attention. “Let’s get headed to the bedroom, my Guy. Let’s set the world aside and celebrate the good guys winning one today.”
“Agree you’re a good guy.” Denis caught another kiss before turning to lead Cherry to the bedroom. “Agree you’re my guy.”
“Maybe we’re each other’s guy?” Cherry let their arms stretch out, his focus on the way their hands slotted together. “I think that’s the most plausible thing. We both found what we wanted, and it happens to be with each other.”
***
A week later, Cherry noticed how the city lights flickered through the window of Denis’s living room, casting a soft glow across the hardwood floor where he stood, still clad in his leather motorcycle jacket.
The ride from tonight’s bar had been exhilarating.
Cherry enjoyed weaving his bike through the late-night streets, Denis’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist, the lawyer’s chest pressed against his back.
The vibration of the engine, the cool night air, and the heat of Denis’s body had left Cherry buzzing with anticipation.
Now, inside the quiet of Denis’s upscale house, that buzz felt like a live wire sparking between them.
Cherry unzipped his jacket, letting it hang open to reveal a tight black T-shirt that clung to his lean, muscled frame.
He was all rough edges, nothing soft about him.
From the calloused hands earned by wrenching bikes, to a faint scar on his jaw from a bar fight years ago, and a smirk that promised trouble.
Denis, in contrast, was polished as always, his tailored shirt slightly rumpled from the ride, his dark hair mussed just enough to hint at the man beneath the lawyer’s facade.
What they had was still so new. In terms of time, it had been just a handful of dates and late-night texts building something fragile but potent.
No confessions of love, no grand promises.
..yet. But in terms of emotional connection, there was just a shared understanding that they were drawn to each other in ways neither could quite explain.
“Drink?” Denis asked, his voice low, almost cautious, as he closed the door behind them. He stood close enough that Cherry could smell his cologne, the scent hinting at something crisp and expensive, undercut by the faintest trace of sweat from their ride.