Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
The Dead Whore Conundrum
T he fight between some of the outlaws and mafia members came to its natural end. Except Priest. He kept going. He beat the mafia guy’s face into mushed up burger meat. Darrow and Monte had to pull Priest away and he let out a roar that sounded like a very hungry lion.
Damien looked at his guy on the ground, probably closer to death than life, and he shook his head.
“Not everyone can make it,” Damien said. “Sometimes honor doesn’t transfer.”
He turned his head again and spoke in Russian. The man to his left collected to beaten man and picked him up like a toy. He carried the beaten man to the first car, where the trunk made a clicking sound and opened on its own.
Slade saw the trunk was lined with some clear plastic. Obviously Damien and his men came prepared to collected some bodies and he did not want any blood—or evidence—left over in the trunk of the car.
He’s here for Nelle , Slade thought. After all this time, that’s what this is? The big mystery of Nelle… of all things. She’s involved with the damn Russia mafia?
The MC knew of many organizations surrounding them, and across the country, other SOFRAW charters had to deal with their own issues. The true charters were SOFRAW, SOFRAE, SOFRAS, SOFRAN . So it was no surprise to bump into big outfits like a true organized mafia. Ones with very old ties and ones with plenty of money, power and the ability to make people disappear without hesitation.
Then you had the scum like SS13 …
“You’re out of line,” Slade said, stepping toward Damien.
One of his guys stepped forward and that was all Slade could take. In one quick move, he reached back for his gun and slammed the butt of it off the man’s nose, shattering it, sending blood everywhere. The man stumbled back. Slade pointed his gun at the man.
“Keep your dogs away from our guys,” Slade ordered. “Who the fuck do you think you are coming onto this lot and demanding things from us?”
“You possess something of mine,” Damien said.
“The fuck we do,” Slade said. “She’s all mine. My ink is in her skin. She belongs to this club.”
“That’s correct,” Cyrus said. “We have our own way of handling things.”
“Plus, my friend , you rolled in and killed two people in our town without talking to us first,” Linc said. “We could have worked out a deal. I was almost killed.”
“So sorry for that,” Damien said with a smirk.
“More so, my girl could have been killed,” Linc said.
“Ah, what’s a dead whore between two strangers?” Damien asked.
Linc lunged and Cyrus pushed him away.
“Time for you boys to leave,” Cyrus said. “Maybe we can arrange a proper sit down. Go over everything. Make a decision. Piling up bodies will get us both nowhere.”
“You’ve taken out two of my men,” Damien said. “I simply injured one of yours.”
“You killed her sisters!” Slade yelled. “You fucking psycho. You shot and killed her sisters.”
Damien clicked his tongue a few times and looked at Slade. “Ah, yes, the sweet taste of pussy, no? It’s like a drug that crawls into your brain and makes you forget how to act. I can’t blame you for that. Nelle always was the prettiest. A tight body. Those perfect tits. Lips that only God himself could design for sucking a big, fat cock…”
“Slade, stand back,” Cyrus ordered. “Linc, get everyone out here. Heavy arms this time. I’m done with this show. If this asshole wants to enjoy piling up dead bodies in our town, the least we can do is offer him and his morons up here.”
That was the call. The big call . That meant everyone in the club—prospects to President—would be armed with high-power rifles and machine guns. Illegal weapons that would put them behind bars for longer than their life expectancy dictated.
Damien took the hint. He wasn’t dumb enough to just start a war. Smart wars came within their own timeframe. First, little sprinkles of murders and fights and exchanges of words. Feel out the enemy and decide what the next move should be.
“Let me ask one thing,” Damien said. “Then we’ll gladly leave. No worries at all, my friend. The whore… is she worth this?”
“Call her a whore one more time and I will shoot your fucking tongue out of your mouth,” Slade warned.
“She’s worth it,” Cyrus said. “She’s ours. Inked up. That means protection. And as I told you once, nobody comes into our town and just starts taking people out. You don’t dictate to us. Because apparently Nelle means something to you. That’s intriguing to me. I wonder what she can tell me. What can be used against you.” Cyrus stepped closer to Damien. “You stepped into the wrong world, my friend . We don’t play fair. We don’t care about your money or your power. And if you really want this thing to get crazy, we have charters all across the country. I also think there’s a balance between us, Damien. You can’t just wipe us out. You know that. You need us. Now get the fuck out of here before I give the orders to turn you and your guys into targets.”
A bold and brave order from Cyrus, but one heavily warranted. The SOFRAW guys manned a long line, standing shoulder to shoulder, protecting their club.
Damien adjusted his suit jacket and nodded. He gave a command in Russian and everyone went back to the two cars. He left the first guy on the ground—the one Priest shot to death.
How nice of him , Slade thought.
The second the two vehicles vanished, not only Slade but everyone else turned.
They all looked right at Nelle.
Nelle knew one thing in life. Run. Her father taught her that from a young age. Grab your sisters and run! Those words were tattooed deeper than Slade’s initials on her ass cheek. As soon as the bikers looked at Nelle, she started to run.
She knew there had to be a back way out of the lot, even if that meant running in, through, in between, or around dirty, old garages. Even if that meant running through junkyards and risking her life.
The only problem? Nelle didn’t even make it five steps before Muffin stepped in front of her.
“Not today, girlfriend,” he said in a deep voice.
She swung at Muffin but he stopped and spun her around, hugging her from behind. He picked her up off her feet.
Nelle kicked and thrashed but all she could see was Slade getting closer to her. Slade getting closer… Cyrus getting closer… She wondered if it would have been better to just have Damien kill her.
Fucking Damien? Are you serious? He’s in charge now? That’s what this is all about?
The voice in her head screamed questions. Slade was now close enough to take Nelle from Muffin. As soon as Muffin released his hold on Nelle, Slade grabbed her hips and held tight.
He then looked up at Muffin. “You ever touch my girl again, I will cut your hands off and make a soup with them, then make you drink it all. She’s wearing my fucking ink. She’s mine!”
Nelle hadn’t realized just how impactful wearing a biker’s ink meant.
“Never heard you this way before, Slade,” Muffin said. “Interesting…”
Nelle realized she wasn’t kicking, thrashing or trying to get away. Slade’s touch calmed her. It shouldn’t.
“You’re with the fucking Russian mafia?” Cyrus barked at her.
“She’s mine, Prez !” Slade yelled.
“No!” Nelle screamed. She didn’t need Slade and Cyrus fighting now. “No! No! ”
Nelle kept screaming the same word, over and over. Draining the air from her lungs. Making the back of her throat hurt. Making her heart race so fast she felt like she was going to pass out again.
She kept screaming until Slade clamped a hand over her mouth.His eyes widened and his lip curled high into the air. He was pissed off but he would not hurt her. How did Nelle know that? She wasn’t sure. She just knew.
That shut her up. Slade moved his hand from her mouth. “Ready to talk, sweetheart?”
Nelle felt her chin quiver.
“Prayer,” Cyrus announced. “Take her to prayer. Show her what the fuck is at stake by her actions.”
Everyone looked around at Cyrus.
“That’s against the rules, Prez ,” Slade said. “I can’t allow it.”
“She’s inked by a table member for Christ’s sake,” Cyrus growled. “She has the right to be there.”
“She already helped patch up Virus there,” Linc added as he joined the conversation.
Slade looked deep into Nelle’s eyes once more. She could tell he had plenty to say to her. Instead of talking, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. He smacked her ass again, just like the first time he carried her like this. Smacking against the fresh tattoo. It stung and itched and tears filled Nelle’s eyes.
She wasn’t sure if she was going to come out of the SOFRAW clubhouse alive.