Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Starts with a ‘C’ Ends With Some Lips
“ W hat the fuck is her issue?” Priest whispered to Slade.
“I’m assuming it was her sister that got shot and killed,” Slade responded.
“I’ll go calm her down,” Linc said. “I was there when it happened.”
“I’ll take care of this,” Slade said. “Let me be the voice of reason. We’ve got eyes on us as it is.”
Which they all did, that was for sure. The locals very uneasy over the pizza place shooting. That’s why the club kept their distance from the funeral and didn’t bring everyone.
Slade stepped forward and walked respectfully through the cemetery. The funeral itself was small. Very small. Almost sad in a way. Sadness that went beyond the normal funeral setting.
Everyone wanted a good story too. There were people trying to be sneaky about taking pictures of the two women— sisters of the deceased.
Slade knew one of them. Her name starts with a C … That was all his brain had to offer. The other sister he never saw before. And, Christ, was she stunning. As was the C sister .
But this other one…
The black dress she wore showed no mercy on the natural curves that greeted her body with such ease. Dirty blonde hair, just beyond shoulder length. A honey color for eyes as she looked right at Slade. She had pouty lips. Natural too.
Fuck, if Slade wasn’t a true outlaw because the first thing he did was picture those sweet lips gliding along his fat cock. How could anyone not think it…?
She looked mean, defiant, yet layered in exhaustion and sadness. Just the kind of broken woman that could end up in an outlaw’s bed for a little quietness.
“You!” C sister yelled again, pointing at Slade.
“You’re not going to help with a thing by being here,” the stunning sister said.
“How’s it going so far here for you, sweetheart?” Slade asked.
“Take your sweetheart tone and go fuck yourself. You’re the reason my sister was murdered.”
Vicious words but they slid easily off Slade’s shoulders and mind.
“Your name starts with a C ,” Slade said, pointing to the C sister . “You’re always at Chutney’s . Right? You work in marketing?”
The stunning sister snorted and laughed. That got Slade’s attention.
“Screw you, Nelle,” the C sister said. “I do work in marketing.”
“Opening your legs for guitarists isn’t marketing, Calista…”
Slade nodded. Yup. That’s right where he knew Calista from. When the club took protection gigs at Chutney’s , Calista was always there. A whore for the rock stars. And for the bikers too…
The murder of the waitress now felt even closer to Slade.
“I’m sorry about your sister,” Slade said. “This will get handled accordingly.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Nelle growled at him. “Don’t give me your macho shit right now. You and your fucking outlaw guys did this. Calista is right. This is your fault.”
“I can’t say one way or another if that’s true,” Slade said.
“They were trying to kill someone in your club!” Calista cried. “They shot Thalia by accident! She’s gone forever! You pieces of shit!”
Someone had gotten closer, holding a phone in their hand. Dressed in black, pretending to be mourning at another gravesite.
“I’ll be back in a second,” Slade said.
He walked between the two sisters, forcing them apart.
He glanced to his left, looking down at Nelle. Cemetery setting or not, her insane beauty and fierce eyes made his cock rustle in his jeans.
The guy standing at the gravesite next to them tried to turn. Slade grabbed the back of his neck with ease and pulled him closer.
“Give me the phone or I’m going to dig a hole right here and put you in it. You fucking slime. Trying to take videos of two sisters mourning their lost sister.”
“You can’t touch me,” the man said. “I’m a—”
Slade squeezed the man’s neck harder. He groaned and gave up the phone.
“Just delete the video,” the man said.
“Did you just tell me what to do?” Slade asked. “Oh, you fucking moron, nobody tells me what to do.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. I’m…”
Slade pulled the guy back some more and kicked out the backs of his legs. The guy fell to the ground. Slade put a big boot right to the guy’s chest and held him down.
“He was recording you two,” Slade said to Nelle and Calista. “You might want to look away at the next part, sweethearts.”
Before giving either sister a chance to figure out what that meant, Slade picked up his foot and stomped down on the guy’s face.
Really. Fucking. Hard.
Cartilage popping and tearing like bubble wrap, the guy’s nose rested flat and to the right on his face. Blood squirting and pouring like someone crushing grapes in a tub to make jelly or wine. Just one stomp though. After all, Slade wasn’t that much of a monster…
Slade then turned and broke the phone in his hand off the edge of the headstone. He glanced down at the headstone.
“My apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Denison,” he said, putting his hands together for a second.
He then met eyes with Nelle.
He couldn’t help once again but think about those lips moving up and down his pulsing shaft. Staring down into her honey colored eyes as she sucked him. The full head of his cock playing with the back of her throat.
From the corner of his eye he saw Chief Dick Rundle walking toward Cyrus and Linc. Fuck , Slade thought. He had to pack the thought of Nelle away into what Priest loved to call a spank bank .
It was time to handle some club and outlaw business with the corrupt chief of police.
“How’s Nova handling things?” Cyrus asked Linc.
“She has her moments,” Linc said. “This life is hard to get used to. You think you have it figured out and something else happens.”
“Fucking right about that,” Fitz said as he handed Linc a fresh bottle of beer. “Cheers.”
“She’ll be fine,” Custer called out. “Old ladies know how to adapt. That’s what women do. They’re adaptable creatures.”
“This old fuck calling women creatures ,” Deed said with a laugh.
“I’d like a creature of a woman,” Priest said. “You know, there are women who are born with two cunts.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Monte asked.
“I’m not kidding,” Priest said. “I saw it online. One even had an account you can pay to see…”
“Jesus,” Cyrus said, shaking his head.
“You paid,” Slade said with a grin.
“I bet he paid for the year,” Linc added.
“It’s amazing to look at,” Priest said. “You know, my dick is so big you can slice it down the middle and I’d have two dicks still bigger than all of you. Think about it.”
Custer slowly stood up and took out a huge hunting knife from his left side and placed it on the table. “Let’s go then. I’ll do it.”
“You want to play with my big cock, old man?” Priest growled.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Cyrus said. “All cocks and cunts aside, we have a problem.” He pointed to Darrow.
“Sorry, guys, but nothing about the shooting is making sense,” Darrow said.
“ SS13 ,” Linc said.
“Has to be,” Slade added. “The chained up guy in the garage…”
“Speaking of,” Cyrus said. “He’s dead. Have the prospects handle it. Give them each a barf bag too. Let them grind that scumbag up into burger meat and go spread him behind the junkyard lot.”
“Or we can cook up some burgers,” Priest said.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Slade asked.
“Back up,” Linc said. “Darrow, what are you seeing on your end?”
“I’ll tell you what I see right now,” Cyrus said. “A very pissed off Chief Dick who is riding my ass over this.”
“It wasn’t the same as with Linc getting shot the first time,” Darrow said. “The bullets came from a different gun.”
“Big fucking deal,” Monte said.
“No,” Darrow said. “These were very different. Listen. Giant glass window. Easy targets. Linc and Nova didn’t even get much of a scratch. That waitress took a few right across the chest. I had my guy get the reports. It’s just all weird.”
“Is this guy talking in circles or what?” Custer growled.
“He’s saying it might not have been us as the targets,” Linc said.
“Shit,” Slade said. “So someone wanted to kill that waitress?”
Slade thought about the other two sisters again. Calista. Nelle.
“You know, we know one of the other sisters,” Slade added. “She’s a groupie.”
“Have I fucked her before?” Priest asked.
“How the hell do I know?” Slade asked.
“Either way, we have enough on our plates right now,” Cyrus said.
The way Cyrus said that and looked at Priest and Linc—and then Slade—told Slade the president of the club couldn’t get the notion of a rat off his mind.
Which Slade agreed with. Just the thought of it…
Fucking hell. Right now. Someone possibly at this table. A rat? Someone out in the clubhouse… a fucking rat?
“What do you think, Prez ?” Linc asked.
Linc stroked his chin. “Think we need to call up Chutney and figure out the concert schedule and get ourselves a gig. Maybe press that other sister about information. Someone has to know something. We find the person who did this and if it’s not club related, hand his ass over to Chief Dick.”
“Are you serious?” Priest asked. “They could have—”
“It’s for good press,” Linc cut in. “The club helps find someone who murdered an innocent waitress.”
“Exactly,” Cyrus said.
“I’ll make some calls,” Darrow said. “I’m not done digging into this either. But I don’t think this is club related.”
“We still have to deal with our SS13 problem,” Fitz said. “These guys are getting bigger balls by the second.”
“They’re pussies,” Priest said. “Hiring out. We’ll find everyone they hire and gut them.”
“One thing at a time, brothers,” Cyrus said. He smacked the gavel to the table and stood up.
The rest of the guys stood up and worked their way to the clubhouse. Booze and women waited.
Slade couldn’t wait to get his dick sucked by some deecee… and picture Nelle’s perfect lips the entire time…