CAL
Every night I dream of her. Of both of them. It starts with a dream of Maddie. Her and her smile as she rides on the back of my bike, her little arms just barely reaching around me. As we circle around the highway, I start to panic. I can’t feel her anymore. Her grip on me is gone. I look back, but all that’s there is the empty seat and the tail of my shirt flapping in the wind.
And then, she appears. Like a switch of a channel, everything goes from sunny days and bright colored skies to black and white. Michelle is sprawled out on my bed, her bare body for me to admire. I can see every little scar, every freckle, every line upon her face. She waits for me to join her, but I’m frozen in place. She calls out for me time and again, but I can’t answer her either.
I wake up sweaty and confused. I glance over at my cellphone, but it’s the same story. I haven’t heard from Maddie in over three days despite talking to her at least twice a day. The last time we talked, she was excited about Michelle taking her to a history museum in the next town over. It was something I had never thought to take her to, but she sounded like she wanted nothing else.
I send a quick text to the boys guarding their home and get one back, “All clear.” Every day has been “All clear.” I’ve got three men on duty in rotating shifts now as everything seems to be headed back to normal. Or, as much normality as it could be. But still I check in when my gut is telling me that something isn’t right. Why would Michelle not let Maddie call?
Sleep is useless. It’s only six o’clock, but I’m exhausted from our new nightly raids. My body is spent as I struggled just to roll out of bed and throw a shirt on. Downstairs, I can hear the afternoon guys shouting about their day’s work, the money they picked up, their cut of the action.
Some of the girls are arriving, too, with their loud laughter and calls at the boys. Tuesdays tend to be one of those nights where everyone gathers for the meeting and the rides afterwards. Tonight’s is particularly special since we are commemorating our fallen. We buried three this week, each shot down by a Coyote in their own clubhouse. After the Mustangs meeting, we will send them off in style as only a biker gang would.
I turn on my closet light and grab my colors. I dust off the badges, counting each of them in my head as I think of what I did to earn each one. Some of it I’m proud of, others I’m not so sure. It’s cost me so much, maybe too much. But it’s the only life I know.
I get dressed and check the time. I’m just in time for the meeting to begin as I saunter down the stairs. Helena is there waiting for me. She’s still young, maybe only twenty or so, but she’s wise for her years. She can sense I’m not myself, and she’s okay with that.
“Hey there, Cal. You headed down?” Her voice is dark and rich, like chocolate. Her brown tan skin practically glows through her tight black halter top. Her short jean skirt shows off her thick thighs partially covered in laced up leather boots. I can’t help but stare.
I ignore her question as I quickly retreat to the basement. The men are taking their seats with no one daring to say a word.
Jager starts by banging his hands into the wooden table sitting on the platform. “Mustangs, this is a hard night. Last week, we were under attack by the Coyotes. And today, we bury what they dared to destroy. But just because Ryan, Jo-Jo, and Goodie are gone doesn’t mean our fight is over. No, we are going to avenge them one by one until those bastards pay in blood!”
“Hear! Hear!” I shout, breaking the silence. The men join in cheers. The truth is that I don’t have the enthusiasm for real revenge talk. That’s far from my mind. But I have to muster it up in this time when loyalty and pledge is being questioned. Even with Ryan gone, I’m going to have to fight off the men trying to take my place at the head table.
“Tonight, we’ll honor them. I will ride Captain with Cal taking Tail Gunner. Old guys, teach our pledges and new members about our burial traditions. I don’t want anyone to fuck this up. Our men deserve that. After the meeting, we’re going to Hell’s Corner. Everyone is required to attend” Jager eyes me, knowing I would rather sit out a night of drinking and drugs. He continues, “As for the rest of this week’s agenda, I expect everyone to be on the lookout for more from the Coyotes. We got final word that Cal’s guy Chris was the snitch who led them here. And if they are able to turn one of our guys, they may try to do it again. If I were Addison Bell and the Mountain, I would be going after anything vulnerable, so be vigilant. You see something, you report back to me ASAP. No solo missions until I give the all clear. Do you hear me?”
I say “Aye” under my breath as the room dismisses. Everyone heads outside towards their bikes, the women following suit with their men. Helena appears out of nowhere as she slides on the back of my bucket. She stares me down as I question her. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I need a ride. You’re going to give me one.”
“Hell no, girl. Get your own fucking ride with one of the pledges. I don’t take women on my bike.”
“No, Cal.” She leans across the seat and pats the top of the handlebars gently, “I’m riding with you whether you like it or not.”
The train of motorcycles is already leaving, and I don’t have much choice. I toss her a helmet and get on the front. Her arms encircle my waist as I feel the rest of her body snuggle up to me. Her bare chest leans across the leather of my jacket. She moans out as the engine begins to rev up.
Thankfully, the drive to the cemetery is short. All of our boys are buried in one location with their women and children, if they got them. The three today are buried in their colors with caskets black as the night. After the short ceremony, the civilians gather up around the rows of motorcycles to watch Jager start the process. He stands beside his bike and starts the engine, the purr echoes off of the grassy hills and trees. The rest of the men follow except for me as the Tail. I just stand there waiting it all out. Jager then revs his bike three times, one for each of our fallen. Again, the rest of the group follows.
As the engines idle, Jager walks to the widow, the mother, and the brother and greets them all with short hugs or handshakes. He hands them a patch in honor of their dead and pats them all on the shoulders. The women cry. The man stays sober, not daring to look Jager in his eye.
Jager then returns to his bike and slowly rides off. The second, third, and fourth row of men follow with their riders. I’m last to pick up the pack. It’s a place of honor. But I hate sharing it with a whore like Helena who is making sport out of the funeral by winking and flirting with every guy she comes across. I’m not an exception.
Even back at the bar, she’s all over me, demanding I buy her shots with the rest of the gang. She places one of the shot glasses to my lips, the cold glass forcing my lips open. She pops it back as I sink it down quickly. I rap my knuckles on the wood of the bar, “Another!”
Helena’s sitting on my lap by the time I’ve had four more. The smell of her perfume mixes with my whiskey and the feel of her soft skin rubbing against the skin of my hand is reminding me what life before this mess with Maddie and her teacher was like. This was the man I was supposed to be! Rough, raw, ready. Helena’s young little ass bouncing on my lap is what this is meant to be.
With each drink, I’m able to erase Michelle just a little bit more from my mind. I do my best to get rid of her smell, her taste, all her OCD bullshit -- how she places her pencils and desks in neat and even rows, how she wipes dirt off of things, how her purse is always perfectly organized in every little pocket. I push aside her sea foam pink lips and her long hair tickling my chest. I’m forgetting what it feels like to hold someone and to actually care if it means something to her.
No, tonight is all about Helena. She leads me by my hand towards the bathroom, and I don’t fight it. I don’t protest; I don’t even want to, not really. I want this as much as she does. We walk towards the side room with the big ‘Employees Only’ sign, and I push her forcefully up against the wooden plank walls. She lifts her arms above her head as I tear off her tank top, tossing it carelessly to the side. My hands immediately go for her breasts, feeling the round softness of her young, perky body.
Helena is luscious, the perfect specimen of women. Her enormous tits point straight out, nipples hard and at attention, calling out my name as I massage them eagerly, tweaking them, not giving a fuck if she likes it or not. She arches her back as she whispers lewdly, “Do you like them, Cal?”
I can’t answer her. I hate when my fuck partners talk like that. I just want to focus on the fantasy before me, not constantly reassure her. I punish her by taking the dark brown nipple on her left breast between my fingers and twisting hard – once – twice – three times. She sinks down towards her knees from the shock and the pain. I repeat it on the other side as she slams her hands into the wall. “Jesus!” she cries, “Fuck! You nasty motherfucker. So good, so very good!”
She returns the favor by wrapping her arms around my neck and jumping into my body. I catch her legs and wrap them around my hips. Her lips find mine and she plows her tongue in. I return it, kissing her eagerly ‘til I need air. But she continues to hold on, pulling me closer as if she just cannot get enough. She’s insatiable, which is exactly what I need tonight.
I spin her around and drop her onto the cement floor, not worrying too much about her comfort. If she wants to protest, she can. She doesn’t. Instead, she hitches her legs up, spreading them easily for me to sink down in between. I come back up to her breasts, opening my mouth and sucking on the nipples as she squeals in delight. Her body wiggles under me, her hips twisting as I use my tongue to draw vertical and horizontal lines across her sensitive, olive skin. I nibble on them, pulling on them with my teeth. She cries out in pleasure again, egging me on, so this time, I suck as hard as I can, then pull her nipple farther out with my teeth, stretching it. She screams, and I immediately send my hand up to her mouth, covering it. “Shut the fuck up,” I say looking her hard in the eyes, and she squeals with delight at my insistent command.
She wants it, and bad. She pulls off my shirt and throws it towards the door. I unhook my belt and pants and slide them off with my boots. I then slither my hips up the length of her body towards her head. As I rest on her shoulders, she looks up at me and my cock, already hard and alert for her.
“Suck,” I command. She props herself up on her arms and opens her mouth wide enough to take in my tip. I rock my hips forward and place it into her waiting red lips. Her tongue dances around my head. The sweet and wet sensation messes with my mind as much as the booze, as I lean back and hold on to her hips for balance. Another inch eases into her expanse, and her mouth continues to tease me.
I sit back up and prop to my knees, forcing my cock even further into her. She pulls her mouth off and begins licking my cock like a popsicle. “What the fuck are you doing, bitch?” I growl. “I didn’t say to lick it. I said to suck it. Suck my fucking cock.”
Her mouth fills with my shaft, and she nods, the corners of her lips transforming into a devilish grin. She rocks her head back a bit before diving forward, taking the entire length of me into her throat.
I groan loudly as I watch her head bob up and down between my legs. I can see the red ruby lipstick she’s wearing smudge on my skin as she adds a bit of pressure to it. As she speeds up her motions, I use my hands to guide her with the speed I want it. And I want it rough and fast.
I lean back again to see the show. One of my hands catches between her skirt as I pull on the fabric as her mouth starts to clamp down on my skin. I push my hand higher into her crotch and yank the panties to the side. Her small pussy is wet and soft, and I let my hand rest between her thighs before I pull it back and place my palm to my mouth. She tastes incredible, and her smell lingers in the air.
I lick my fingers, wetting them down before returning them between her panties again. This time, I spread her folds as wide as possible before entering my pointer finger. Vibrations against my cock stir me as she moans out in pleasure. She stops sucking and lies back towards the ground as I continue to finger around her soft insides.
Her clit is well hidden under the skin, but I find the nub with my thumb. As my pointer finger spins around, I press down hard on it. She reels, throwing herself up towards me. Her bare, large breasts take my cock as she squeezes her tits together. I rock back and forth against the skin, loving the feel of the new friction.
Helena massages them with the motion of my finger as we both are in time with each other’s bodies. As I pick up my tempo and dive another finger in, she opens her mouth, allowing me to enter as I move my cock up her breastbone. I pull out and head back down, traveling the length of her chest and neck.
I feel her body tense and shake under me. She’s close. I can tell by how she pushes her hips into my hand as she begs me to go deeper or harder. I refuse. Every part of me is telling me to let her orgasm, but I can’t bring myself to let her. I want that pleasure myself. I pull my hand out as I hear her cry out, and I flip her to her stomach from under my legs.
“Cal, please!” She can barely just get the words out of her mouth before I can prop her ass up in the air and rip the remaining clothing off of her body. I enter her sopping pussy with one deep, long stroke of my cock inside of her. She presses her hands up against her head for support as I begin to rock quickly. I’m relentless; I just want to enjoy her little body. I pin her shoulders down and thrust into her, feeling her pussy respond to my insistent pulsing. She bites her bottom lip to muffle a scream of pleasure. This slut is fucking loving it.
Her body springs me back with each motion. For every push, there’s a pull. For ever hit of my hips against her curvy ass, there’s a slap back. I go as hard and deep as I can. I can feel her orgasm under me, the rush of her fluids trickling down my balls and onto her thighs. But I can’t stop for that. She gets no rest until I’ve gotten what I came for.
The booze takes over as the room starts to spin. I hold onto her waist for support and traction as I push on, thrusting harder and harder. I throw my head back and bite down on my lip as I cry out, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” My cock feels like it’s going to explode. I push as deeply as I can, finishing with five slow pushes. As I feel my own orgasm coming on, I pull out just in time to cover her silky, tattooed back in an eruption of creamy cum.
Almost immediately, I’m picking up my clothes and putting them on. I don’t want to take my time or enjoy this one. As the fog of a pretty intense cum clears, my head and chest swell with regret, Michelle instantly coming to mind. Helena was far from her, despite her being so willing. She had no fight, no grit. There was no personality. Normally, I’d love that; a quickie fuck in the back of a restaurant or bar was just another night for me. But now that I had that ‘something more,’ I wanted it all the time. Nothing else was going to do.
Helena reaches for a roll of napkins and hands it to me. I wipe myself off and then her back. She doesn’t say a word as she grabs her shirt and adjusts her skirt and panties.
Suddenly, the silence is broken as we hear a thundering knock as a voice calls out tersely, “Cal! Fuck! We need you.”
I find my pants and the rest of my outfit by the doorway and quickly put them back on. It’s not like any club member to interrupt a fuck session. But with being on high alert from the last Coyote attack, it sends both Helena and I racing towards where we last were.
Back inside the bar’s main room, everyone is gathered in a circle around Jager. He’s standing on a chair as he reads off a phone. I don’t catch what he is saying over everyone’s commotion. I push past some of the younger men ‘til I get to his feet. I realize quickly that no one is looking at Jager anymore. They are all staring at me with horrified, angered faces.
Jager looks down towards me jumps from his seat. He takes me by the shoulder and turns me away from the crowd cramming in to eavesdrop on whatever he needs to tell me. He mutters as he says, “Cal, it’s Maddie. They took her.”
I shake my head, asking him to repeat himself. Surely, what he is saying isn’t true. It’s some joke, some sick joke being played on me by one of the guys. Maybe it’s a test from one of my rivals loyal to Ryan even in his death.
But Jager doesn’t seem to be in on it. And the longer it takes me to process it, the more he slows his voice, “Maddie, Michelle, the roommate. They’re gone.
My mind goes blank as I force myself to see this as a reality. I stammer as I try to process what I need to say. I want confirmation, “They took her?”
Jager nods as he explains, “The Coyotes. Her and that teacher that’s watching her. The patrol just found our pledges outside of their posts shot dead, their bikes and jackets stolen. When they checked over at the teacher’s house, there was an open door and a note.”
Jager places the phone in my shaking hand as I lean down to read the tiny digital picture of the crudely handwritten note, “This is for Chris and the night of the attack. Don’t fuck with the Coyotes again. Blood for blood. -- Addison Bell.”
I drop the phone to the ground, and look around. The faces are somber and cold. No one is quite sure what to do. Ace and Red Dog are at my side almost immediately as they begin to shout about revenge and promises to find her as soon as they come up with a plan. Jager joins in, bringing the war cries to a fever pitch.
Despite that, I stay quiet. I have no words. All I can hear is the sound of Maddie’s voice as she is taken away from me by social services. Now, that record is on repeat, replaying each horrible moment with the added sound of Michelle’s cries to the mix. Both of them are in danger and no one here is moving on this. No one wants to go now.
But I do. Without turning back, I head out the door towards where I parked my motorcycle. With or without the Mustangs, I’m going after my girls.