8. Jessica
8
Jessica
T he last thing I expected to happen in life was to fall for a man, and then he almost die in a gun battle. That’s not what I signed up for. I needed to hear from Watcher and understand what happened. Was this something I’d always have to worry about if we stayed together? I guessed that was probably the case.
I close the office door and stare at the cuts Diablo had made for me and some of the others. The Sisters of Chaos. Was I ready to take my on-rink antics out onto the roads of Memphis? Sure, why not? Too many people had been pushing me around lately. It was time to push back, and now I had the means.
I have a friend who works at the local hospital. I gave her a call last night and asked if they had anyone come in with a gunshot wound the night Watcher saved my ass at the bar. Yes, they did. Four men came in together but wouldn’t give the police any information. Kaycee, my friend, gave me each victim’s name and address. She was another one I could add to the club, though I doubted she would leave the hospital.
“What time are we leaving?” Diablo says when she walks in. She sits at the small table in my office, wearing her Sisters of Chaos cut. The cuts for Kat and Emily are lying on the table with mine.
“I need your help with something. If you’re not interested, I’ll understand.” I get up and go to the whiteboard hanging on my wall. I write four names, and Diablo stands.
“Let me guess. The four men who tried to kidnap you at the bar.” Diablo circles the names with a marker. “Where do we start?”
“I think we need more help.” I look down at the list of Memphis Macabre players. I know for sure who would be in. “Kat Williams and Emily Venetti. We can start with them.”
“I’m the only one who rides,” Diablo says.
“The rest of us will learn.”
“We gotta have our thing,” Diablo says. “Kat and Emily willing to leave their jobs?”
I shrug because I really don’t know. “What do you mean our thing? I’ve got money.”
Diablo chuckles. “As soon as your father finds out you’ve started a motorcycle club, he may cut you off.”
“I have a stash he doesn’t know about,” I say, but I know what Diablo is getting at. Watcher mentioned running guns, selling pussy and dick, and a few other things the Brothers of Chaos had their hands in. We needed our thing. “We can figure that out once this other problem is solved.”
Diablo lays a heavy stare on me, something on her mind. “You understand the difference between a biker club and one-percenters? My father was involved with both. One-percenters, which is what the Brothers of Chaos are, don’t really follow the rules of normal society. You ready to take that on?”
“I want to be in life the woman I am in the rink. I don’t take any shit in the rink, but I have been in life. Not anymore. It’s time to change some things up.” Diablo still doesn’t believe me.
“Nobody in their right mind would walk away from all that money, Hellcat.”
“Fuck, I love that name. I love this whole fucking idea.” I pull on my cut and walk over to the mirror in my bathroom. “The girls will be here soon for practice. We’ll pull Kat and Emily aside first. Let them in on what we’re thinking. During practice, we’ll let the others decide. I’m pretty sure Rosemary and Joanne will be in.”
Diablo points at the whiteboard. “How far are you willing to go with these four men?”
“As far as necessary.” I get up and draw a large X through the names. “Here’s what I know about men like them. “First, they’re a bunch of pussies. Second, if they had succeeded in getting me into that van, I would not have lived to see the next day.”
“We need a place to take them,” Diablo says.
“I have a warehouse on the edge of town that my father gave me. It’s supposed to be a backup practice facility.”
“Basement?”
“Sort of. It’s used for storage. All concrete walls and floor.” I start laughing. “We’re really going to do this.”
“Looks like we are.” Diablo lifts the back of her cut and pulls a gun from her waistband. “Are you packing?”
“Fuck no?” I hold out my hand, and Diablo gives me the gun.
“It’s a Sig Sauer P365XL Rose. Fit’s just right in my hand.”
“Smooth,” I say and point it at the whiteboard. “Pow!”
“You can hook me up?”
Diablo nods and takes the gun. She holds my hand out. “You have smaller hands. You’ll need something compact.” She releases my hand. “I have a friend. She can hook you up with a Springfield Armory Hellcat.”
“Hellcat carrying a Hellcat. I like that.”
“Can you pull the trigger if and when you have to?” Diablo doesn’t look convinced that I can. I have before, though I had no idea what I was doing. The bullet hit the target, so maybe I know a little bit.
“If it comes down to me or someone else, I’m not giving in,” I say.
Kat and Emily enter the office and look at us, Diablo still holding the gun, each of us wearing our Sisters of Chaos cut. Kat sees hers on the table and shrugs into the leather cut.
“So, what the fuck is going on?” Kat asks.
Emily grabs the other cut and puts it on. “Damn, this thing smells good.”
Kat points at the name on Emily’s cut. “Reaper.” She looks down at her name. “Scratch.”
“We’re a motorcycle gang now?” Emily asks. Her smile says she's okay with the idea. Kat doesn’t look so sure.
“It’s a club,” I correct.
“I was thinking of going back to school,” Kat says. “I don’t know. I don’t have time to ride a bike.” She eyes the leather cut again.
“If you are going back to school,” I say, “that means you are leaving the team?”
Kat nods but continues looking at the leather cut. She runs a finger across her patches. “I feel like I’m missing something in life,” she says. “Something important.”
“You’re part of something important, Scratch,” Diablo says.
“Scratch?”
“We need to change roles,” Diablo says. She stands and grabs Scratch’s cut. “I think she needs to be VP, Jessica. I’m more suited for Sgt at Arms. I want to help the club learn the rules. I think I’m best for managing firearms and whatever else we get into on the weapons side of things.” Diablo lays her gun on the table, and the others eyeball the weapon. I can tell Emily wants to pick it up.
“Weapons?” Emily says. “We’re going to carry guns? I’m fucking in!”
“Think about it during practice, Scratch.” I start to erase the whiteboard, but Scratch stops me.
“Who are these men?”
I’d not told anyone but Diablo what happened that night. “Everyone have a seat for a few minutes.” I go back to my desk and sit before explaining what happened before Watcher saved my ass. I don’t stop there. “There’s something else you need to know about me. Something you won’t like.”
Diablo shakes her head. She’s all in on the club idea and what it will mean to be a Sister. “Whatever she says, stays here.” Diablo waits for Kat and Emily to agree and they do with a nod. “Go ahead.”
“A few years ago, I was out alone late one night. I stopped to get gas, and this nice-looking young guy was getting gas. He started talking to me at the pumps. Told me he was going to a party and asked if I was interested.” Talking about it doesn’t bother me, but I’ve never felt in a good position to do so. If these were truly my sisters in crime, they would understand.
“What happened?” Scratch says.
“I followed him to an abandoned house. There was nobody there. He said the party was in the basement, and people parked around the neighborhood and snuck in. I believed him. He said it was to not draw any suspicions.” I got up and walked around the room, arms crossed, holding myself.
“You don’t have to continue,” Emily says.
“I want to. I need someone to know.” I stop pacing and lean against the whiteboard. “He had a flashlight. I followed him into the house and down to the basement. There were a few dim lights and a mattress. I knew then I was fucked. Shit, I was young and just wanted to have some fun.”
“He raped you?” Diablo asked and stood. I held out my hands for her to stop. I needed to embrace what happened. I wasn’t looking for sympathy.
“He tried and almost succeeded. When I said no, he pulled a gun. He told me we could do it the hard way or the easy way. The same words one of the men used before Watcher saved me.” I shook my head and laughed. “What was I going to say? I got on the mattress and began removing my clothes. I was almost naked when he crawled onto the mattress with me.”
A knock at the door stops the story, and Emily takes care of whoever is knocking. “Finish,” she says.
“He was so fucking excited that he laid the gun on the mattress. He had his shoes and pants off, and as soon as he lifted his shirt over his head, I grabbed the gun and pulled the trigger.”
“Fuck,” Diablo says.
“You killed him?” Emily’s eyes were as big as ping-pong balls.
Kat sat silent, but something in her eyes had changed.
“A bullet right to the heart, except I didn’t stop shooting. I emptied the gun into his chest, covering me and the mattress in blood.” I look at my nails and decide I need a manicure. “Something changed in me that night. A rage formed inside me.”
“That explains your play on the rink,” Scratch says.
I nod. “It’s my outlet. Fighting at Stanford was an outlet.” I adjust my cut. “Now, this is my outlet.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Scratch says. She looks at each of us. “The same sort of thing happened to me.” Her face grows hard, and we all wait to hear her story. “A few years ago, I was at a bar, and this older couple approached me. They’d obviously had too much to drink. I’d just gotten out of a shitty relationship, and I guess that was written all over my face.”
“It helps to tell your story,” I say. “It helps that other people understand.”
“They were staying in the hotel where the bar was located. They invited me up to their room.” Scratch looks up at us. “It happened in their room. Luckily, I was allowed to leave. It was against my will, and I wasn’t harmed physically but emotionally. It took me forever to let someone else touch me.”
“That’s the reason you started skating,” Emily says.
Scratch smiles at me. “The rink lets me release my anger as well.” She smiles at everyone. “Plus, I have you all.”
“Then stay with us,” I say. “We are going to do something special. And we have each other for support. This club we’re creating isn’t about anything but being here for each other, even closer than the rink has allowed us to be. We become Sisters.”
“I’m the Reaper,” Emily says and chuckles. “I love it, and I love you girls. I need this in my life.”
“Scratch, you have to do what’s best for you,” Diablo says. “We’ll support whatever it is you decide. Everyone needs to understand that we jump in with both feet if we do this. This isn’t a life with one foot in and one foot out. That’s how people get hurt.”
“I’m all in,” I say. “I’ll be financing it all. The bikes, the guns, the club. Whatever we need.”
“I need some time to think it over,” Scratch says. She motions at the whiteboard. “What’s all this have to do with these four men?”
“They tried to kidnap me. Watcher stopped them.”
“They would have killed you,” Emily says.
“Probably.” I move closer to Scratch and hold her hands. “We’re going to pay these men a visit. I get it if you don’t want to go. It’s okay.” I turn to Diablo and Emily. “Neither of you have to.”
“I’m in,” Diablo says.
Emily places a hand on Diablo’s shoulder and looks up at her. “Me too.”
“Tonight, before Diablo and I go to Pine Bluff, I want to find Harrison Rich, who talked for the four men. If there’s an opportunity, I will have a word with him in private.”
“I’ll go,” Scratch says. “I can’t promise anything after that because I just don’t know. Are you going to kill the man?”
Damn, the question out in the open like that sounded scary. Was I? I believe so. “Not tonight, Scratch. Before deciding something drastic, I want to know more about him and the others.”
“The other girls are waiting,” Reaper says. “We should get practice out of the way, and then we can be on our way.”
We leave the office and walk to the rink, where we practice for the next two hours. We don’t mention the MC to the other girls, though I’m pretty sure most, if not all, will be in. Scratch’s question sticks with me for the entire two hours. I’d killed a man in self-defense, meaning he deserved it. Did this Harrison guy? Maybe he and the others had a single night of lapse judgment.
Or, maybe, he and the other three men were serial rapists and, in that case, deserved to die. I thought about Diablo’s question about whether we were one-percenters. I didn’t need another hobby. I needed to create something and be part of that creation. The club was the answer. So, yeah, we are one-percenters. We are outlaws—female outlaws of a different kind.
Practice is more playful than any time I can remember. Reaper—I love our new names—skates most of the jams. Diablo teaches the girls some new moves. Scratch skates extra aggressively, and I notice her occasional glances at me. She’s still considering what to do.
Diablo leaves the defensive pack and skates to where I’m watching. “I think you should let the others in on the club idea.” She nods at the team. “I’ve never seen a group of women work this well together.”
I blow the whistle hanging from my neck, and the entire group skates to the rink’s center. There are eleven women, including myself, a sisterhood I believe in. “First off, kickass practice today. You either all got laid last night, or you all ate the same breakfast this morning.”
“I got laid last night and this morning,” Joanne says, our team comedian.
“Your new Rabitt doesn’t count,” Sam says, and everyone laughs.
“I can’t remember the last time I had a real dick.” Kim grabs her crotch, and everyone cringes. At least she didn’t come in drunk today.
“What I’m about to say and ask of you has no bearing on the Memphis Macabre. If you aren’t interested in the new venture, you’re still as much a part of this team as anyone else.”
Patty rests an elbow on Kim’s shoulder. “This going to get us into some deep shit?” She smiles when I nod. Scratch keeps her eyes glued to the floor.
“I’ve decided to form a motorcycle club,” I say, and those who didn’t know about the idea before now jerk their heads back in surprise. “Hear me out before you start running away.”
“You’re going to fucking love the idea,” Diablo says. She goes back to the office while I continue talking.
“We have eleven girls on the team, and the plan is to make you all members. The four injured reserve will be able to join when they return. Some of you will take officer roles. Not being an officer does not diminish your role as a club member.” I wait a few seconds for everyone to process what they’ve heard.
Diablo returns with the leather cuts. She passes them out to Reaper, Scratch, and myself. “Once we know who’s interested, I’ll have more cuts.”
“It’s a one hundred percent commitment,” I say. “In or out.”
Patty looks at the back of Reaper’s cut. “Sisters of Chaos.” She chuckles. “I’m fucking in. When do I get one of these?”
“I’ll have it ready tomorrow,” Diablo says. “Hellcat and I are going to Pine Bluff tonight. I’ll bring back what we need tomorrow.”
“Hellcat?” Rosemary crosses her arms. “We all going to get a name?”
“Yeah,” Reaper says. “Yours is CT.”
“The hell does that mean?”
Reaper nods at Rosemary’s crotch. “Camel Toe.”
Rosemary shrugs. “I’ll take it.”
I clear my throat, and everyone stops laughing. “Seriously, though. I want to do this just like the men do, only better. Watcher and the Brothers of Chaos will teach us how to ride. They’ll teach us how to be a club. Diablo will train us in the use of firearms.”
“We’ll need to find a source of income,” Diablo says. “We need our own thing. The BOC runs guns, pussy, and a few other things. We need to find our thing.”
“You’re serious about this,” Rosemary says. “What about our jobs and families?”
“Club comes before anything,” I say. “I don’t mean that in a derogatory manner. It’s a rule we have to follow to make this successful.”
“You want us to quit our jobs?” Patty asks.
I nod. “I know that’s one of the things that prevents some of you from joining. I get it. That’s why I said it doesn’t affect your Memphis Macabre status.”
“The life isn’t for everyone,” Diablo says. “But commitment is key.”
“I’m in,” Sam says. “I fucking hate my job.”
“Of course I am.” Joanne smiles as if she’s been waiting for this opportunity since the day she was born.
I look around the circle of women as each gives their commitment, except for Scratch. She’s still undecided.
“We’ll plan on having everyone’s cut by Wednesday or Thursday at the latest. Plan on another practice Thursday, none on Friday and we’ll be ready for the New Orleans Bandits on Saturday.” More nods and smiles.
We end the practice, and Diablo follows me back to the office. “What’s going on with Scratch? I thought she’d be in without question.”
“No clue, but we need to give her some time.”
Emily and Kat enter the office and close the door.
“I’m in for tonight,” Scratch says. “What’s the plan?”
“Simple.” I grab the list of names and addresses from my desk. “Meet here at six. We go to this asshole's neighborhood and watch what he does. When he leaves, we follow him.”
“I’ll be on my bike,” Diablo says. She points at me. “A Maserati will stand out.”
“We take my Camry,” Reaper says. “Sounds like a pretty badass thing to do.”
“See you bitches at six!”
The office door opens, and I just about piss my pants.
“Bitches?” Watcher steps out of the way so the girls can leave. Scratch and Emily take an extra long moment to look him up and down. Watcher smiles but leaves it at that. No looking at asses or tits.
“Tell me Kentucky is with you,” Diablo says, all smiles when Watcher nods.
“I think he’s trying on your skates. Better save him before he busts his ass.” Watcher closes the door as Diablo leaves, shaking her head.
“I need to get you in a pair of skates.” I get up from the desk and find myself wrapped in Watcher’s arms, his delicious lips pressing against mine. I give him a little moan when his hand drops to my ass.
“How’s my hellcat?” he asks and sits me atop the desk, my legs dangling. He looks down into my eyes, and warmth works up my spine. “By the way, I’m into a lot of things, but skating isn’t one of them.” He kisses me again and practically sucks the air from my lungs before breathing it back in.
“Are you always going to greet me like that?” I ask. He places his hands on my knees. “If you are, I’m going to need to carry around extra panties.”
“Probably a good idea.” He sits in one of the leather chairs, spreading his legs and resting his hands on his knees. He’s everything every man should be.
“Diablo and I were coming to Pine Bluff tonight.” I glance at the names on the whiteboard, and Watcher turns his head.
“We wanted to surprise you.”
“You did.”
“Have you recovered?” he asks with a gentleness I’d never get from another man. Yeah, he cares.
“I think I’m good.” So good that I want him to fuck me right now, right here on the desk.
“I’ve arranged to have the local chapter train some of your girls how to ride. They’ve got some extra bikes they’re willing to give up.” He reaches forward and places a hand on my leg. “I’ll be teaching you myself.” Though his voice is deep and a little rough, his words come out gentle.
“All my girls are in except for Kat, who’s now going by the name Scratch.”
“She has a son,” Watcher says, and I nod. “She was married to one of the local Prospects.”
“No, they just had a kid together.”
Watcher stands, unable to keep his eyes or hands off me. “May not be the right life for the kid. Both parents in an MC?”
“She’ll figure it out. She’s missing something in her life and just trying to figure out what that is.” I put my hands on Watcher’s waist and he holds my chin in his hand. The smell of leather and man is overwhelming.
Watcher moves around the desk and stands behind me. “I’d ask if you’ve ever fucked on a desk, but I already know the answer to that.”
“I’m pretty sure everything I do with you from here on will be a first for me.”
“You can count on it.” He puts his hands on my shoulders, and I lean my head to rest on his hand. I place my hand on his other, his warm skim invigorating. His hands move, and then I hear things moving on the desk.
Watcher spins me around and sits in my office chair, pulling me forward as he scoots back.
“I’m on the pill,” I say shyly. “I have been for two years.”
“For your periods?” he asks, and I’m almost stunned.
“Are you speaking from experience?”
He shrugs. “Remember, not all bikers are dumb. Knowledge is power.” He pulls me forward again until I’m standing before him. Keeping his eyes on mine, he slides my shorts down my legs, and when they get to my feet, I step from them.
“One of the girls might come in,” I say.
“They can watch if they want.”
“Does that turn you on?” I ask.
“There’s not much that doesn’t turn me on.” His hands move up my legs, and I’m sure he sees my panties are already wet. His thumbs slide up my inner thighs and finally press against my pussy. Every muscle in my body tenses with anticipation. Why is he going so slow? Why not just lay me back and fuck me.
Watcher sits me back on the desk and spreads my legs, leaving my panties on. He moves to his knees and buries his face between my legs.
“Fuck,” he whispers, eating me through the panties. I place a hand on the back of his head and press as I buck forward. He moans loudly, and I know I’ve done something to please him. My panties are moved to the side, and he pulls my ass to the desk’s edge, licking my clit as I press back and forth, fucking his face as much as his tongue is fucking me.
When two fingers slip inside me, his tongue’s assault driving me crazy, I come hard against Watcher’s face.
He doesn’t back away or stop, his face staying buried against my pussy until the last orgasmic wave subsides. When I start to relax, Watcher stands and lays me back on the desk.
“I’m soaked,” I say.
“I know. It’ll make this next part a little easier.” He undoes his jeans and pushes them down, his dick so hard it appears to be throbbing in need of release. “I’m going to start slow, just like the last time.”
I nod. “Okay.”
Watcher moves forward and guides his cock to my soaked hole. His eyes narrow as he looks at me. I think he likes to watch my reaction as he pushes forward. I think he wants to see both my pleasure and my pain.
“Fuck,” I whimper as he enters me. He slows and lets me catch my breath, his hands grasping my waist, thumbs caressing my stomach.
Watcher moves in deeper, his eyes growing dark, mine growing wider, feeling myself spreading yet accepting. He goes a bit deeper and then some more. I reach up and place my hands on his forearms, holding on, anticipating his next thrust. He doesn’t disappoint, and I doubt he ever will. Once he’s all the way inside me, he stops and leans over, kissing me, our mouths opening wide.
When our lips part, his hands grow tighter around my waist, his thrusts faster, his grunts louder, the desk screeching as it moves. He never stops watching me, his hands never loosening.
I feel his arms tensing and I know he’s only moments away.
“Fuck me, baby,” I say, and although it sounds a bit comical, Watcher does exactly as I ask, moving harder, the desk sliding, his jaws clenching.
“Fuck,” he says, and when he does, I begin to rock against him, slamming forward on his cock. He growls like an animal in the wild, and just when I think he’s about to come, the office door opens, and he stops. “Who the fuck are you?”
I turn my head to see who entered and then try to get up. Watcher holds me in place. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m going to finish,” Watcher says. “Fuck him.”
“Get out, Jeremy!”
“No. He needs to stay. Maybe he’ll learn how to knock the next time.” Watcher starts fucking me again, and Jeremy starts to leave. “You’re staying, asshole,” Watcher says. “In fact, bring your ass over here and sit in that chair.” Watcher points at the leather chair he’d been sitting in earlier.
Jeremy, scared to fucking death, does exactly what Watcher says. I watch him cross the room and sit, keeping my eyes on him as Watcher continues fucking me.
“The fuck are you doing?” I ask. “He’s watching us.”
“You embarrassed or a little turned on by it?”
Fuck. I’m one hundred percent turned on by it! I glance back at Jeremy. He’s got his hand down his pants! “Fucking pervs.”
Watcher plants his lips against mine and pushes deeper, my pussy throbbing. I giggle at the thought I may not be able to walk tomorrow.
“You find this funny?” Watcher asks.
Jeremy groans, and I look back in time to see his head go back and his hand stop pumping. His shorts grow dark and wet.
“Oh, shit,” Watcher says and fills me with his warm seed. He smiles and then kisses me again. He steps back, his cock dripping. He stares between my legs. “Wait,” he says when I try to move. He moves a finger between my pussy lips, allowing his come to escape.
I look back at Jeremy, who still has his head back, his right hand a mess and on top of his shorts.
“What the fuck did we just do, Watcher?”
“We had a little fun, baby.”
I get off the desk and see the mess we left behind. Watcher pulls up his jeans, his cock still wet. I grab my shorts and head to the bathroom in my office, closing the door before standing in front of the mirror wide-eyed.
“That just happened, Jessica. Damn!” I lean back against the wall. “And I fucking loved it!” I bury my face in my hands and rub away the craziness in my head. When I look up, I still look at the changed woman in the mirror. “What’s happening to you?”
“You okay in there?” Watcher asks.
I use the bathroom and climb into my panties and shorts, glancing in the mirror one last time. I open the door to find Jeremy still in the leather chair and Watcher standing at the whiteboard. Damn.