Chrome & Leather - The Novel (Adriana Ness ♯1) (Motorcycle Club Romance) (10 page)

He started his bike and sped down the empty and cracked street. His drove through the winding streets of this decrepit part of the city as he methodically went over and over his plan to destroy Blackjack. He always did his best thinking while on the bike, cruising along with the wind in his hair.
 
To the squares in the cars he would pass by he must have looked just as bad ass as the hardened biker scum he exterminated. No one could tell he limped while he rode. He let his mind wander as he zoomed along, he always liked to just drive after an execution, so he took the roads at random and headed in the direction of one of the smaller beat down towns outside of the cities grey and foreboding industrial area.

The bike bellowed and roared as it sped along the highway. Darian skilfully weaved in and out of the thick rush hour traffic. He scowled at the passengers as he sailed by on his chrome beast. Why people would choose to drive around in those metal cages he would never understand. That’s the difference between them and me he thought to himself. The pasty and weak looking fools driving the cars are the sheep, happy to do as each other. Eating up what is spoon feed to them since birth. Not him. He takes what he wants and needs, when he pleases. Fuck those sheep.

Stuttering images of people flashed by as he gunned the engine. An overweight whale of a man stuffing a greasy burger into his maw. A thin birdlike woman applying lipstick to a pinched face. Two red-faced children pulling faces at the motorcycle rider as he sped by. Theses people made him sick, the complacent and the weak. They make it all the easier to be a wolf.

The engine of the bike went up an octave as he turned into a wide sloping bend. The bike is twenty years old and in immaculate condition. Darian believed that if you rode a bike you needed to know it intimately, even more so than any woman he has been with. He is no poser, no weekend warrior. The bike was his life before he meet Blackjack and it would be after he is wiped off the face of the earth.

As the bend flattened out a small town was visible on the horizon. Its nothing special he thinks, another shit town in a decaying and rotting part of the country. His mind returns to the notebook close to his heart, he can feel the edge of it pressing against his chest, a familiar weight in his inside pocket. A talisman that has never been out of his sight in the ten years since his rebirth. Now that he was reaching the end of it he could feel a weight lifting off of him. He thought that everything would be better once Blackjack was no more. A thought flashed into his mind that at first he dismissed but then it started to dig its talon like claws into the soft flesh of his mind. His rebirth had begun with a bank robbery, why not close the circle by robbing one now. He could do it solo as another way to scream fuck you into the void, he needed no man to help him to accomplish his deeds. The idea gained traction and his heart sped up with excitement at the thought of it. He looked at the town in the distance and decided with steely determination that he would do it. It was as if the omen from today, getting to kill each man in the order he had written their names on the list was some sort of sign which demanded a bold display of bravado. The list was testing him before his final confrontation with Blackjack. Darian knew he should not ignore the notebook and decided to scope out the local small town bank.
 

He had two things on his mind as he rapidly approached the town. First he should scout out the roads and side streets around the bank. A quick circle of the area and he should be done. After that he would be on the prowl for a woman. He liked to follow his chosen woman from a distance, sometimes following them for blocks as they went about their day, unawares of his gaze. He didn't like to approach them as he had seen the look on their faces too many times when they saw him limping towards them. It was usually a look of disgust or even worse sometimes it was one of pity.

He turned off the main road leading into town and wound his way along the quiet side streets. It was best to vary his approach into town if he intended to do a sweep of the streets. Low wooden bungalows with peeling paint and overgrown gardens crowded close to the one way street he was on. He dropped down a gear to avoid the potholes in the badly rutted asphalt.

At the intersection up ahead the corner house looked freshly painted and the garden was well tended. Large white sheets hung from a line and billowed in the gentle breeze. A corner of a sheet flipped back in the breeze and behind it stood a thin young woman with auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders. She had her back to Darian as she hung another sheet. Even from this distance he could see her legs through the thin gauzy material of her dress.

His cock twitched in his tight jeans as he slowed his bike a couple of houses away. He turned off the engine and the bike clicked and popped as it began to cool down. He reflexively touched his chest and was reassured by the presence of the notebook. If the woman had heard his approach on the bike she never turned to look. Instead she was busying herself with the task at hand. He leaned back on his bike and watched her.

She looked to be no more then twenty and her skin was pale and freckled. Her movements were graceful and fluid, as she moved about completing her task. It was almost as if she was dancing with an unseen partner.

Darian tried to recall the last time he was with a woman he didn’t have to pay for, and it had been too long. Before his rebirth he had been a hit with the ladies, after it he could see nothing but mockery and scorn on every woman’s face because of his broken form. Blondes where usually his thing, he liked a woman who had been through the shit, who had a bit of mileage on the clock. A woman as beautiful as the one he was looking at would never pay him any attention.
 

She continued to move fluidly back and forth hanging the sheets. He leaned up against his bike taking it all in, his cock as hard as steel in his pants. With a flourish she pinned the last peg and pirouetted. For the first time she realised she was being watched and he could see the creep of red along her shoulders and neck.
 

She turned away and was lost among the flapping sheets. Darian felt a pull in his chest and sauntered towards her. He walked among the sheets and as they billowed and flapped he could see her outline twist and turn as he moved closer to her. He would pull back a sheet and she would spin gracefully away, catching only a glimpse of her pale shoulder as another sheet obscured his view. His head spun at his proximity to her and he felt like he was floating above his body observing himself limping badly as he spun about trying to catch sight of her again.

The air hung heavy with her perfume.

“Do you want to talk?” he said.

She giggled and spun from his view once again.

This game was making him feel woozy. He felt like he was spinning around an undulating world with nothing to guide him but tiny glances of this woman. His head swam as he turned back and forth. His ears filled with the snapping of the sheets and her occasional soft laugh. It was not a mean laugh; it was something filled with kindness and light. Exactly what he needed before his bank heist.

He spun once more, hearing the whisper of her feet on the grass. The sheets gave way to the open lawn and she was standing there. A smile on her face and the sun behind her making her hair look like it was spun from copper.

“You like to play?” he said.

“Depends who with,” she said, a slight drawl to her voice. A softening of the ends of words and an elongation of the vowels was present.

“What about me then?”

“You look like the kind of man my Daddy warned me about”.

“What kind would that be then?”

“The dangerous kind,” she said lowering her eyes shyly as she said it.

This girl was enticing. There was something about her he couldn’t put his finger on. She seemed completely innocent, but there was a devious spark to her. It made it seem like she was planning something as she spoke to you, a slight flick of the eyes as she talked. He felt like she could see exactly who he was, see past his limp and see the true man. The idea of opening up to this woman and telling her about the secrets contained in his notebook excited him. He had never shown anyone his work before.

“Maybe you shouldn’t listen to your Daddy, maybe you should listen to me. How old are you?” he said taking a step towards her.

She stayed rooted to the spot and said, “I turned twenty yesterday.”

He grinned broadly and hooked his fingers into his belt. His stiff cock was visible and he had seen her glancing down a few times at the bulge. She was his the second he got off his bike he thought to himself. Even that didn't feel right to him, it felt more like he was hers as soon as he approached. Instead of unsettling him this excited him even more.

“I could give you a gift if you want,” Darian said.

He walked another step closer to her. She wasn’t exactly a beauty but there was a simple charm to her. The splash of freckles across her nose, her long gangly limbs and her half mocking half serious tone was intoxicating to him. His skin was prickling, as he got closer to her. Is this what it felt like when sailors of legend heard the sirens call and crashed their ships on the rocks trying to reach them? He felt powerless already, under her spell.

She leaned in close to him to whisper in his ear. A lock of her hair fell across his face, the clean scent filling his nose. His cock throbbed, as she grew closer.

Her lips brushed against his ear as she spoke, the hairs on his neck bristled at her closeness. He was in her net trapped and wriggling.

“My Daddy is in the house. He’s a real bad man. If he was gone, you could…” she said trailing off.

He had been right; his gut never let him down. She was not some sort of innocent waif flitting about the garden with a head full of moonbeams. She was like him, cold and hard inside and ready to do what needed to be done. She had seen him for what he was, a tool to be used for a job she couldn’t do. This thrilled him and the throbbing of his cock intensified.

He didn’t need to know what terrible things her father had done. He just needed to deal with him and then she could be his. Violence always aroused him. The great cosmic clockwork machine was whirring to life and offering this opportunity to Darian if he was willing to take it. Today was turning out to be one hell of a day.
 

She bit her lip coquettishly as she pulled away from him. He could see it in her eyes, the animal fierceness. He could see that if he didn’t help her then she would rope in some other poor sap. A fool that probably doesn’t have the skill set that he has and would somehow botch up the job. He knew he was perfect for her.

“Where is he?”

“He’s passed out on the couch in the front room. Drunk.”

He looked around and the streets where empty.

“You stay here,” he said.

The front door of the house was propped open with a rock with strands of yellow wool for hair and two large googly eyes glued to it. He went inside and stood in the hall getting a sense of the house. The air hung heavy and stunk of stale beer and cigar smoke.
 

A loud snore emanated from a room at the end of the hall and the couch creaked as its occupant shifted weight. He sounded like he was in a deep drunken stupor. Darian stood in the open doorway to the room letting his eyes adjust to the gloom.

Lying prostrate and prone on a faded brown couch was the father. He wore a pair of loose fitting jogging pants and a saggy white t-shirt yellowed at the armpits. His head was tilted back and his mouth hung agape and it emanated long nasally snores. On the floor beside him lay a half dozen empty beer cans.

Darian stood watching this heap of stinking human garbage on the couch and imagined the kinds of abuse he was laying upon his daughter. He knew that this drunken slob was the worst kind of human sheep. His time was up.

Darian reached behind him and pulled out a single curved blade from the hidden sheath on his back. He approached the drunken man and stood over him. He observed the rise and fall of his chest, the flicker of his eyeballs behind his papery eyelids. Those eyes would never look upon his daughter again. He felt an extreme sense of calm as he observed this drunken oaf, knowing that his end was near. Darian's lips moved as he silently counted down from ten.

A floorboard creaked behind him and he turned. The daughter stood there chewing on her lip, eyes wide and expectant.

With a flash of the blade as it arched through the air he drew it quickly across the fathers neck. With his other hand he pressed an ugly brown cushion over the fathers open wound as the blood began to spray and then knelt on his chest with his full weight.

The father feebly thrashed about. Within seconds he had stopped moving as his blood soaked into the cushion and the couch. One second he was alive and then I took it away from him Darian thought and this made him feel more powerful. He could feel his chest puff out at this display for the watching daughter.

He wiped his blade on the fathers fat leg and sheathed it, as he turned to face the daughter. She had stopped chewing her lips and had a slight crooked smile. A devilish fire danced in her eyes and her nipples were visibly erect under the light material of her dress.

Darian strode across the room with only the faintest trace of his limp and swept her up in his arms. She was his prize and he would now take her. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled herself close as he ascended the stairs. His legs felt powerful and strong as he kicked open the first door he came across.
 

The door swung open to a room that was obviously hers. A dream catcher hung from the ceiling and wind chimes melodically tinkled from the open window.

He let her down gently and she stood before him. He could feel a fierce heat radiating off her. Her skin was flushed and he imagined he could see the very blood coursing beneath her pale and freckled skin.

He hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her roughly against him. His cock throbbed painfully against her body. He slid his hand down and cupped her ass and she squirmed against him.