7. Watcher
7
Watcher
I ’m standing in the kitchen, naked, watching coffee brew, when I get the call. We have a buyer for the forty Glocks, and Beast wants Diesel and me to make the run with a couple of Prospects.
He asks how things went with Jessica, and I tell him good as far as I know. I tell Beast I’ll be at the club when Jessica gets up. I end the call, pour a cup of coffee, and sit out on my back deck.
Closing in on 45 and banging an 18-year-old virgin. Was that okay? Never bothered me before. It did last night. I never paid much attention to what was in a woman’s eyes because, quite frankly, I was too busy with other things. Jessica’s eyes were different. She has an old soul, and I saw that soul through her eyes.
Kentucky was right. I needed to settle down, though his life was changing as well. His old lady walked out on him last week.
Who was I kidding? Nobody left the life of money to take up the life of a biker’s old lady. With Jessica, I was going to have to look at things differently. Long-term rather than short-term. In fairness to both of us. I wondered how she would feel once I brought her deeper into the things in my life. Although the club accepted what I did, none thought they could ever do what I did. I didn’t judge them just like they didn’t judge me.
“You doing okay this morning?” I know the faint sound of the backdoor opening.
“No sneaking up on you,” Jessica says. She sits at the table and places her coffee mug on the table. “You don’t have sugar for the coffee.”
“It’s bad for you.” I motion at the robe she’s wearing. “You take the tag off?’
“Yup. You always keep a spare skimpy robe around?”
“It’s one of those things for just in case.”
“Yes. I’m doing fine this morning. A little sore, but I think I’ll survive.” She takes a moment to look out at the backyard and the horses at the fence that lines the backyard. “Thank you for last night. What you did and how you did it means a lot to me.”
“If you want nice things you have to treat them nice,” I say. I look her straight in the eye when she turns. “I can’t give you what your father has given you. But I can give you what he hasn’t—loving attention, excitement in your life, and the feeling of being an important part of someone’s life.”
“He does love me.”
“I believe that. A father should love his kids no matter what. Unconditionally, regardless of the relationship with their mother or anyone else.” I finish my coffee and lean forward, elbows on the table, staring into Jessica’s eyes, not because I want to take her back to bed—yes, I do want that—but because eyes have just as much to say as the lips do.
“Tell me about your accent,” she says, sending me slowly back into my seat. “You don’t have to if it bothers you.”
She’s right. I don’t have to, but I need to. “I’m from Sudbury, Ontario, in Canada. I spent most of my life up there with stopovers in Toronto and Quebec.” She looks at my hand, and I suspect she wants to know if I’ve ever been married. I hold up my empty ring finger. “Four times,” I say. “Jessica, the life I live ain’t for everyone, possibly no one.”
“You’ve always been a biker?” The robe comes apart when she moves in the chair, but she doesn’t bother to cover her tits. She’s truly a gorgeous woman.
“I have. It’s in my blood to be a biker and live this kind of life.” I set my coffee on the table and stand, leaning against one of the posts holding up the porch overhang. “I don’t blame any of the four for wanting out. I won’t blame you either. I get it.”
“They ask you to quit?” She watches me as she sips coffee. I had a feeling I would spend all morning telling my life story that nobody else had ever been interested in. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding.”
“You aren’t, and I need to be honest with you.”
“Because I’m young and impressionable?”
“No, because you deserve to be treated right. You need to know what you’re getting into.” A couple of horses come to the back fence, and I reach out for Jessica’s hand. She gets up, and we walk barefoot across the backyard. “Yeah, they asked me to quit. That’s something you just can’t ask a lifelong biker—to quit his club. I said no, and they said bye. Yeah, I had kids with them, and they took the kids. Said my life wasn’t a life for kids.”
“That’s why you left?”
I shook my head, dreading the next part of my story. “My first wife remarried when my son was ten years old. The son-of-a-bitch she married was an abusive asshole. I couldn’t do much about him knocking her around. In fact, she told me to mind my own business.”
“I’m sorry,” Jessica says. She reaches out and pats the horse’s head. The horse looks like he is smiling at her.
“I get a call from my son one day. He should have been in school, but he was home. Said his mom was at work. He was crying. The asshole had slapped him in the face for oversleeping and missing the school bus.” I rub the second horse, but he doesn’t smile. Both animals, like me, want Jessica’s attention.
“Fuck. I’m so sorry.”
“The asshole didn’t know my son had called me. I showed up thirty minutes later and beat the living shit out of the man” I shrug and rest my arms on the fence. “He never hit my son again, just like he never walked again.”
Jessica stopped petting the horse. “You killed him?”
“No, I did something far worse. Paralyzed the man for life.” A third horse comes forward and nudges the other two out of the way, seeking Jessica’s affection. “A warrant was issued for my arrest.”
“So you left.”
“So I left. My son is twenty now and calls me almost every day. His mother is an alcoholic, and he feels like he needs to stay in Canada and take care of her.” I look toward the horse pasture, thankful that the story was over. “How about you? Everyone knows about your father. He seems to be a good man. What about your mother?”
When she stops petting the horse and shifts her gaze to nothing, I know I’ve asked the wrong question. Not every story is meant to be told; I’m good with that.
“She died when I was ten. A mix of prescription drugs and alcohol. My Dad is a good man, but he also has his issues. People who have lots of money live in fear of losing that money. He was very demanding and spent most of his time in business dealings. We’d go weeks without seeing him while he was away working deals.” She takes a deep breath, and I slip my hand around hers. The horses would have to go find companionship somewhere else.
“It’s not easy dealing with other people’s dreams,” I say. “Big dreamers have a hard time letting others dream with them.”
“My father was married when my mother wedged her way into his life. I guess she made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.” She chuckles and looks up at me. “Then the wicked stepmother wedged her way in. My mother lost her shit, and one day, she was gone.”
“That’s a lot of shit to deal with, Jess.” I put my arms around her and we share a kiss in front of horses that refuse to leave. Holding her hand, we walk back to the porch. I let her go up two steps so that we are eye-to-eye. “The club needs me to make a run this morning with a couple of my brothers. I’ll be heading up to Little Rock.”
“I need to head back to Memphis and see what kind of dumpster fire awaits. Plus, the team has practice tonight. If you get back in time, you should come to watch us practice.”
“I just might do that.”
I let Jessica shower alone, knowing that anything else would only delay me getting to the club. Even I knew pussy wasn’t a good excuse to miss a run. I shower alone as well, and then Jessica and I ride back to the club on my bike. Most bikers won’t admit it, but it feels fucking fantastic to have a woman’s pussy pressed against you on a bike and her arms around your waist. You know her life is in your hands on that bike.
Big Kentucky and Diablo are waiting outside when we arrive. Jessica climbs off before me, and she and Diablo share a hug.
“I have a big surprise for you,” Diablo tells Jessica. She walks back to the picnic table and grabs a leather cut.
Jessica looks as if she might cry, covering her mouth in surprise. “How?”
“I spoke to the old lady who does the club cuts. I told her what we needed, and this is what she gave me this morning.” She shows Jessica the back. Above the center patch, the top rocker, says Sisters of Chaos. The bottom rocker says Memphis, TN. The patch in the center looks like the Brothers of Chaos patch. She turns the cut around.
On the left side of the cut are three patches: Memphis, Original, and Hellcat. On the right side are two patches: President and Original 6.
“I fucking love it!” Jessica says loud enough to get the attention of everyone in the parking lot.
“She’s working on the other five,” Diablo says. “You just have to decide who your other five are first.”
“You! Of course. You’re my Vice-President!” Jessica hugs Diablo again, and I have to step in to break up the little party.
“I gotta run, babe,” I say.
Excited, Jessica slams into my body and throws her arms around me. I glance up at the brothers, and they’re all smiling. Each grabs their dick and makes a fucking motion.
“I’ll call you when I get back to Memphis.” She grabs the cut and leaves, Diablo following behind her on the bike.
“How’d that go?” Towles asks. “She calling you Daddy?”
“She peg you yet?” Diesel asks.
I climb on my bike, ignoring the comedians. “You assholes joining me, or you gonna stand there sucking cock?”
Diesel climbs on his bike and grabs his dick, laughing. He pulls beside me, and the two prospects follow in a van. An hour later, we’re pulling into an alley behind a strip club, meeting a group of thugs associated with the Russian mafia. The men are large and ugly as sin. Diesel drops the bag at the feet of the men and steps away.
The guy in charge looks from Diesel to the bag. He motions a man from behind to come forward and check the bag. He does and finds all guns accounted for. The man in charge grabs the bag and walks away toward a large black SUV.
“Our money,” I say.
The Russian stops and turns. “Not today.”
“Kasparov,” I say. The Prospects exit the van, assault weapons ready for an assault. “We want our money.”
“Tell Beast I’ll be in touch.” Kasparov gets into the SUV and pulls away, leaving behind four men.
The shooting begins, and I find myself diving behind a dumpster. One of the Prospects lies in the road, a bullet in his head. I feel something warm running down my arm and realize I’ve been shot.
“You whole?” Diesel asks from behind the van.
“Yeah, but I’m hit.” I peek around the dumpster and see the Russians reloading.
For some reason, I think about Jessica and last night. I think about her and me this morning. Most of all, I think about what I would lose by taking a bullet to the head. I can’t let her go. I stand and open fire as the Russians raise their guns.
Two of the four Russians go down, and then Diesel emerges from behind the van, distracting the other two. It takes only two more shots to drop the last two Russians.
I stand over the four dead men and pop each in the head for the Prospect.
“We need to get the Prospect back to the club.”
“What about Kasparov?” Diesel opens the back of the van, and the other Prospect and I load the dead Prospect, a twenty-five-year-old kid who joined the club a year ago. He’d been one of the most dedicated Prospects to ever be part of the club. Kasparov would pay for his mistake.
“I’ll have Beast get the Doc.” Diesel returns to his bike to make the call nobody ever wants to make. Beast will want Kasparov’s head.
I pull my cut off and tear my shirt at the shoulder, where the bullet struck. A good chunk of skin is gone, but the bleeding has stopped. I see twenty stitches in my future.
I ride behind the van, and Diesel takes the lead. I’d been shot a half dozen times since joining the club. This is the first time it bothered me. I can thank Jessica for that. I’d spent most of my life not giving a damn. Now I did.
Fuck. She is deep in my head. Last night had been something special. Even if she’d not wanted to go slow, I would have. Normally, the fuckfest is on, and I and some honey are throwing down all over the room, house, woods, or where ever we decide to fuck. Jessica is different, and I have no clue why. The only certainty in my life is the club and Jessica. I have no desire to take another bullet.
By the time we get to the club, my shoulder is bleeding again, and the fucking thing burns like Hell. Diesel helps me stand when I climb off the bike and get wobbly. I hear someone say something about a shot, and stitches, and the doctor is on the way, but everything goes dark, and I don’t give a fuck anymore.
I slip the bouncer a hundred-dollar bill, and he lets me pass. It’s a simple agreement that allows me to skip the line. I hear people complaining, but it does them no good. I’ve been coming to Club Decadence since I arrived in Pine Bluff. Yeah, Beast and the others know what I’m into. They don’t care as long as none of it comes before the club. It doesn’t. It never will.
We all have things in our heads that we need to get out. That’s why I come here. I open the heavy, soundproof door and make sure it closes behind me. I hear the lock click and walk deeper into the bowels of the club, music thumping walls lined by people doing all kinds of decadent shit the world outside wouldn’t approve of. Women are getting fucked, men are getting fucked, women are on their knees, men are on their knees. Here, everyone is themselves. This is who they are. What they are. Like me, they’re here to explore their darker side.
The hallway opens to a larger room with blinding purple, red, and blue strobe lights. A mass of bodies moves seductively on the dance floor, hands and lips occupied. The dance floor is the one place I never go. Not because I can’t dance but because certain freedoms are taken by complete strangers. I want to know who’s touching me.
Valerie, the bartender who had been here since the first day I arrived, places a glass on the bar and fills it with a blue liquid. The first time she served me the drink, she told me not to ask. I didn’t. Still haven’t. All I know is that it makes me feel incredible, invincible, and allows me to fuck all night.
Watching the crowd from a stool, sipping the blue concoction, I see a wide variety of choices tonight. Instead of choosing, I wait patiently to be chosen.
“You buying me a drink?” she says.
I nod at Valerie, and she fills another glass with the strange blue drink. She slides the glass over to the woman. Valerie will put the drink on my tab and automatically charge my card on file. Makes it easier.
“I’ve seen you hear before. Where’s the guy you’re usually with.”
“He’s in a back room, waiting.” She smiles as if I should know what that means. “I’ve seen you here as well. Seen you do some nasty stuff.”
I finish half my drink and set the glass on the bar. “What do you have in mind?” Decadence is not the place where you come to get to know each other. It’s where you come to get lost in lust.
“I’m up for anything.” The woman finishes her drink and turns her attention to the dance floor. She’s waiting for my answer. That’s the thing about Decadence. Everyone who comes into the place wants to up their game. Do something more horrid than the last time they were here. I believe in pacing myself.
She’s a beautiful brunette with dark eyes and a soft face. She’s wearing a black, shiny bodysuit that laces from pussy to breasts. Her hair is back away from her neck, and there’s a small bead of perspiration waiting to race down between her tits. She tilts her head away as I lean forward, lapping up the bead before it leaves. I stand, and she spreads her legs, leaning back, placing her elbows on the bar.
I move in for the kill, so to speak, kissing and licking her neck, my hand holding her chin away. The nameless woman grabs my dick through my pants and moans. I know the risks but you have one life to live, so why not live it on the edge. Nothing you have in life can be taken with you, so take the risks and have no regrets.
When I back away, the woman stands and goes after my neck the way I went after hers. Wanting to move things along, I take her hand and lead the way around the dance floor to one of the dozens of rooms. The challenge is not finding a partner for the night. The challenge is finding a clean, empty room.
“My boyfriend,” the woman says.
A cleaning crew exits a small room, and I pull the woman inside. When the door closes, a red light illuminates above us.
The shelf in the room has been newly stocked, the hook overhead sparkling clean. Each room has its own personality. This one says sadomasochist. I grab the cuffs from the shelf and put them around the woman’s wrists.
“I should get back to my boyfriend,” she says, fear filling her eyes. Everyone who walks through the door knows what they are in for. Otherwise, you stand outside on the street corner and use your imagination. I use mine inside.
I don’t say anything because I’m not required to do so. Instead, I lower the hook and raise the woman’s hands so the cuffs are over the curved metal. When I raise the hook, she moves to her toes.
“He’ll come looking for me,” she says.
“I know he will.”
It takes me only a few minutes to untie the bodysuit, letting her tits free, revealing a dark swatch of hair between her legs. I grab a paddle from the second shelf. The woman’s ass is plump and bounces when I pat it with a hand.
With paddle in hand, I open the door to find her boyfriend standing there, rubbing his cock through his black leather pants. The man couldn’t be more than twenty-one. I glance at the woman, who couldn’t be any younger than thirty. We all have a kink.
The young man steps into the room, and I close the door. When he doesn’t move, I give him a gentle nudge toward the woman.
“Get on your knees,” I tell the guy and he does without question. The woman spreads her legs, pussy glistening.
“Watcher. Watcher. Wake the fuck up!”
I open my eyes and see most of the club standing around me, shaking their heads. Doc Martin stands behind them, needle in hand.
“Put your dick away,” Beast says.
I look down and see my dick doing a Herculian press against my jeans. I don’t bother mentioning the dream. They all know where I go and what I do. They’ve been told about the woman in black and her boyfriend eating her pussy while I paddled her ass. That’s me. That’s who I am. The big question—will Jessica like that side of me?
Everyone except Beast leaves the room, and he keeps me from falling over when I try to sit up.
“What time is it?” I ask
“Two o’clock. It’s Monday.”
“Fuck. What happened to Sunday?” I try to stand, but Beast keeps me sitting.
“Doc Martin just gave you another shot and checked your stitches. Diesel gave me the lowdown on Kasparov. I checked, and he’s already back in New York.”
“The Prospect?” The image of him lying on the ground, his dead eyes staring at me, flashes in my mind.
“His funeral is tomorrow.” Beast walks around the room. “I’ve got Slash and Kentucky looking into some things. The New York chapter will try and get their hands on Kasparov. They have a mafia contact in New York City that has had similar dealings with the asshole.”
“Say when and I’m on my bike to New York.” I grab my phone and see a dozen messages from Jessica. “Fuck.”
“I spoke to her last night, Watcher.” Beast moves to the open doorway. “You sure about her. Daddy’s got a lot of pull. He can rain down a lot of hell on this club.”
“Yeah. I am. She might be able to help with the Memphis chapter move. She said there was no way her old man would go back on making them move. But she thought she could help the process.”
“Be careful with her, Watcher. She’s young.”
“She’s got an old soul,” I say. “It’ll work out the way it should.” At least, that was my hope. “I’m going to head that way this afternoon.”
“You’re not. You’re staying here.” He shakes his head before I can protest. “Her and that Diablo chick Kentucky is banging is coming down tonight. Jessica wants to nurse you back to health before the Memphis Macabre’s next bout on Saturday.” Beast starts to leave but turns and puts his hands on the doorjamb. “You need to introduce her to your way of life before you get too deep, Watcher. Let her know what you’re all about. That shit isn’t for everyone.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Get one of the Prospects to take you home. Your bike is already there.”
When Beast leaves, I lay back and stare at the ceiling. Yeah, I need to tell Jessica. No, she probably won’t like it.