Big Dog (4 page)

She’d slipped out of the hospital as soon as she could walk without a walker, or someone near enough to catch her if she fell. Hitchhiking over a hundred and fifty miles brought her a mile from the clubhouse, and she walked the rest of the way. She could have wept if she had the time, when she saw that no one had disturbed her personal stuff in the saddlebags. Her ID, bankcard, and a change of clothes were all she had in the world when she’d left the place. One other thing had been sitting in the bags, and she took it out to stare at the logo of the club on the back. Her colors still advertised the club and the fact it was the mother chapter. Staring at the garment made her decide to wear it on the last leg of her journey home. It was her history, the leather cut she was wearing the night of the attack hadn’t been her original one, this denim sleeveless vest was. Old school to say the least, yet it somehow gave her comfort to remember the day she got it. Most women that she knew never wore colors, unless they were like her, a young widow who’d taken on her old man’s colors, and had the widow’s patch to prove it. The vest had actually been a gift from the old group President. It declared her to be property of the Burning Bastards MC. It didn’t give her special privileges, or a voice in the group’s activities, it was her protection, her independence from being claimed or molested by unwanted attentions. Shaking her head, she got off the bed and stood up to try it on. It was a little tighter in the chest, but other than that, it fit fine. She took it off and dropped the towel from her body, before slipping between the covers and falling asleep.

Luck was on her side that night. She’d gotten four and a half hours of sleep before the nightmares began haunting her dreams. The searing feel of fire raining on her back and shoulders, and the numbness of her arms from being restrained, bound by ropes and a metal hook, woke her. As far as she knew, she no longer screamed during her nightmares. She couldn’t remember what was different about this dream, but it was almost as if she was enjoying what was happening to her. The fear was absent when she woke. That, in itself, was a mixed blessing, because she wasn’t certain she would like in reality what her body appeared to like in her dream. She was sweaty and horny and it was probably a good thing Knight and Demon were in a different room than she was, or they would find out the damaged woman was in fact damaged. Her body bore more scars than it was designed to bear, and if the sight of the scars didn’t put a man off, her masochistic need to feel pain during sex in order to achieve a satisfactory orgasm—would.

She had tried a year after her body healed. No matter what her partner had tried to give her pleasure by doing, it took her pinching and yanking at her own breasts, while he fucked her, to have a small but welcomed orgasm. She ended up apologizing to the guy while he dressed right away, and told her that she was a great lay, and tight fuck. “You are just too freaky for me, I can dig the scars, but I’m not into dishing out pain, and my dick’s not enough to make you happy anyway. I can tell.” Sadly he was right, his dick wasn’t very large, but he was damn good with his lips and tongue, and if she wasn’t wired as a fucked up mess, he would have been enough to make any woman happy.

She looked at the clock and closed her eyes, willing herself to go back to sleep. Four a.m. was too fucking early to wake up. At four thirty, she gave up and took a quick shower. She put on her jeans and chaps, but instead of her leather jacket, she wore a red wife-beater type of top and pulled her colors on over the top. She braided her hair in a tight rope and packed up her toiletries into the saddlebags, left a five on the pillow, and the key on the dresser. Twenty minutes later, she was back on the highway. Traffic was sparse and she almost laid the bike down when a family of skunks crossed the road in front of her, but luck was with her and she pulled around them before they decided to spray her for scaring them. Thankfully the doe and her fawn waited politely before crossing the road, just before dawn.

*****

Knight stepped out of the hotel room door and saw the pink over black hog was no longer sandwiched between their bikes. It was barely daylight and he’d purposefully set the alarm on his phone to wake them up early so they could get a good start on the day’s ride. He knocked on the door next to the one he and Demon had shared, and heard Charlie grumbling and a woman’s voice could be heard too. That was still a puzzle to him.

Last night at the diner, the waitress came back to the table and began fawning over the greybeard like he was her long lost soul mate. She brought a sandwich baggie stuffed with sugar packets and leaned over Charlie, to tuck them inside his shirt. Up until then, he had hopes of getting the woman to suck his cock in the parking lot to relieve the hard-on the presence of Future caused with just the sight of her face and those weird eyes she had.

Instead, Charlie told them that he would be taking a room of his own, and not to wait up for him. The old fucker had somehow snagged that pretty piece of snatch out of his and Demon’s immediate plans of double teaming her for the night. They often shared women, Knight preferred it himself. Yet she acted like they no longer existed, and from the sounds they’d heard coming through the thin walls, she either faked her orgasms in a loud way, or the old boy had moves no one thought he would have. Listening to them into the wee hours of the night did nothing to make him feel better or alleviate the need for him to relieve his thick cock at three this morning in the shower.

He wasn’t the only one the squeals and grunts affected. He’d no sooner left the bathroom than Demon shoved his way past him into the room to take a shower too. That little witch was going to have to pay for this one. He would have her beneath him soon, and when he did, she was going to make up for the hell this trip had caused him. Knowing she was tying him in knots, and he’d never even touched her, was giving him serious doubts about his sanity.

Demon came out of the door holding his kit and tossed Knight’s at him. From the squeals and “Oh Daddy’s” they heard through the door, they figured it would be awhile before Charlie got his shit together enough to ride. They left a note stuck between the speedometer and ignition on Charlie’s ’46 Indian Chief. “Going to the diner.”

They gassed up their bikes and took their time over a hearty breakfast while waiting for Charlie to show. A few scooters pulled in and the sight of shiny chrome and like new leather jackets gave them a few minutes of amusement. Two of them were full dressers complete with double seats and arm rests for the passenger’s comfort. The owners of those turned out to be older couples that enjoyed riding for the fun of it. One even had a stuffed toy hanging between the Tupperware “trunk” and the shiny decoration rail surrounding it. Seeing the old men helping the
old ladies
off their perches made the two men smile. There wasn’t anything to laugh about there. It was good the old people spent time together and had fun.

Charlie pulled up, eyed the chrome commandos, and spit on the pavement before parking his bike next to Demon’s hog. He stood back and let his passenger get off the bike and she gave him a quick kiss before walking to her car and getting behind the wheel. Charlie headed to the doors of the diner without so much as a backwards glance. The younger men could only stare at him with admiration. The geezer still had skills.

Demon couldn’t resist, “I don’t suppose you considered sharing the wealth last night or this morning did you? I see how you are.” Charlie grinned and nodded his head.

“I saved you boys from being chewed up and swallowed down by that she-wolf. I swear it’s been a while since I’ve let something that wild have at my helpless body.” He rubbed his chest. “I got scratches and bite marks to match, and that’s just on my chest. If she wasn’t such a fancy piece, I’d give her the job of being my old lady.”

Charlie ordered a large breakfast and for once didn’t put on a show for the onlookers. He finished his coffee, and stood, “Let’s collect some miles, boys.” He tossed a five on the table and walked to the register to take care of the bill. The nice looking older woman smiled at him and shook her head. “Your bill has been taken care of, the man that paid it noticed the veterans patches on your vests, and told me to tell you thank you.”

He looked around and only saw one possible benefactor, it was a couple actually. He looked their way and saw the slight smiles and nods, and he nodded back. He thanked the woman and left the building with his companions right on his heels. That kind of thing happened once in a while, and he appreciated it. Usually it was done by people who had less than he appeared to have, and it made him feel guilty and good at the same time.

Charlie had gotten his nickname while he served in Nam, and it carried over when he left the Army. After a failed marriage and the death of his parents, he’d made the Bastards his home and family.

Knight wanted to tease Charlie about his good fortune on the trip. He was the one that figured out the Oracle mix up, and the one who got laid, now they got a comped meal. Maybe the old man should buy a Lotto ticket and they could all retire on the winnings. Instead, he saddled up and drove out of the lot without words. The one thing you didn’t tease a Nam Vet about was his time put in. His old man was the same way.

Chapter Four

It was close to dinnertime when she drove through town, the place hadn’t changed much in the past few years. The new fast food place by the highway ramp was about the only new building she’d seen, and even that was taking on a worn down look. She idled her bike at the driveway leading back into the woods where the clubhouse sat, to gather her feelings. The atmosphere seemed to be in a holding pattern, waiting for something or someone to show up and burst the bubble to relieve the pressure that had been building for too long. Something wasn’t right here, and she started on the long driveway into her idea of hell.

The gate was two hundred feet down the hard packed sealcoat, and she wasn’t surprised to see two Prospects manning the post. The bald headed one scrutinized her from head to toe and took his time looking the Heritage over before allowing her to pass through the chain link the skinny, pimple faced kid was holding open, once he got the nod from his partner. Another two hundred feet and she saw the crib. It had been given a clean coat of paint and the doors were no longer hanging by three leather strips that did duty as hinges. The parking area was also seal coated like the driveway. Seeing a few people milling around outside, and sitting at small tables by the front doors, wasn’t a surprise either. She parked her bike in the second row directly in front of the doors.

That weird bubble of anticipation she’d felt at the road burst the minute she walked through the door of the place. There were kids everywhere. She’d walked in on someone’s birthday party and one little boy was running around so fast, she almost collided with him as he flew past.

The energy of the place slammed into her and she widened her stance for a moment to take it all in. Several adult women stared at her and a few men were scattered around the room, but no one approached her, so she made her way to the hallway leading deeper into the club, being careful to keep her hands up and away from stray kids forcing her to steady them. She liked kids, the problem was, if she touched them, she read them, and it seldom turned out good. That’s why she liked her bar. No heartbreakers there. She might feel sorry for adults if they were ill, or going through a rough spot in their lives, but kids made her cry.

The chubby young man sitting with his feet propped under his chair untangled himself to stand in front of the door. He looked her up and down suggestively, and she cocked an eyebrow at him. “Really? I will turn around and leave the same way I came into this place, and it won’t hurt me a bit.” She leaned toward him, “If you think you will get away as easily when they find out one of the Bugs turned me away, you can kiss your ass goodbye. Move.”

He stared at her for a minute and decided she looked harmless enough. She was a good looking older bitch, but from the looks of her kit, she was genuine. He nodded his head and stepped aside.

She stepped into a new addition to the old clubhouse. The stainless steel furnishings and bar were all modern, and gave the impression of coldness. She didn’t like the room, but then she wasn’t planning to be a frequent visitor here either. She sat at a table in the corner of the room to observe the people coming and going, from the buffet of pizza and burgers, salads and fruit, to the bar, getting beers and soft drinks. She placed her saddlebags on the chair and walked to the food. She hadn’t bothered to stop to eat on the way, and she was hungry and thirsty. The bartender looked at her in puzzlement, but handed her a longneck, which she promptly drank down almost nonstop. When she nodded at him again, he shrugged and set another up for her. That one went back to the table with her and she sat by herself eating and watching the people, half of whom she’d never laid eyes on before.

Charlie told her the other club patched over to the Burning Bastards. Seeing one of the faces that were at the meeting that night made her heart lurch, but he wasn’t an enemy. She zeroed in on one of the men that had hung with Dorsey back in the day. He either didn’t recognize her, or was ignoring her presence and that was fine with her. There was a small commotion at the door and all eyes watched as the Prospect that had been tending the post skidded on his back a few feet into the room. He was out cold, and she wondered who had the power to hit the Bug hard enough to make him slide that far.

The biggest man she ever saw in her life stomped through the door with Demon, Knight, and Charlie right behind him. He was at least a head taller than Demon, and as wide in the shoulders as his companions. He was handsome in a very rugged way, but the sneer on his lips gave him a cruel look. If they’d met in her bar, she would be enjoying some seriously erotic dreams about this guy. Even in the bar, she would flirt and joke, a man like him was her kind of guy, and she would have to keep her wits about her. He might be her idea of a damn good time, yet she knew he would freak if he saw her scars. He scanned the room until he saw her, and then he crooked his finger in a come here gesture.