Megan - Day 28

We went crashing to the floor. My yank was harder than I’d thought it would be since I had put all my weight into it.

Aaron landed half on top me as my knee went crashing into Dutch’s chest. Aaron didn’t need instructions for my stupid plan; he started shooting from our floor-level position, which sent Clint and Chuck back but not away.

Aaron’s actions didn’t stop Chuck and Clint from shooting in our direction. The center island, containing the stove and an attached, thick, wooden table were the only things keeping bullets from striking us. I scrambled over Dutch’s body and poured all my might into turning him over. I grunted as I lifted and shoved at his body. When my eager fingers raked the butt of Dutch’s gun, I yanked hard to jerk the weapon from under his body.

I continued to pull in a panicky hurry as a bullet hit loud, splintering the wood next to me. When I got a good grip on the pistol that was down the back of Dutch’s pants, relief swept through my body.

I called out to the men shooting. My breath heaved so hard that I didn’t know if they understood my words. “I give up! I’m getting up. Please. I’m coming out!”

Unsure if my crazy ploy to come out would work, I noticed the bullets had stopped flying, including Aaron’s, when he spotted what was in my hand.

Aaron lifted Dutch, who I’d assumed was only knocked out because his slumped body jerked and his chest moved up and down. Aaron was using Dutch for cover as we ducked low, behind his crumpled, smelly body.

“Stay behind me, Megan,” Aaron directed, as he stood higher, with Dutch now groaning in front of us. He leaned Dutch more so that he was covering me from Chuck because it had already been proven that Chuck wasn’t willing to shoot Aaron, not if Aaron had a clear shot of his son.

Chuck and Clint’s weapons were waiting for us when we were standing fully upright. Chuck’s gun was aimed mostly at Dutch instead of me, and Clint and Aaron were back in their standoff.

The moment Dutch started to stir and realized he’d become a human bulletproof vest, he started to scream like a madman. His voice was laced with the impact of his pains and the horror of the situation he currently found himself in.

Aaron didn’t give a signal and he didn’t wait around to see what Chuck and Clint would do. The moment Dutch’s screams distracted both bearded pieces of shit, Aaron started shooting. His first shot landed in the center of Clint’s forehead, spraying blood and brain matter on the refrigerator and wall behind him.

Soon afterward, I stood deathly still with the odor of gun oil inching up my nose. The same as how it had done in Shark’s bar the second day I was with The August Knights Motorcycle Club.

The gun in my hand remained aimed where Chuck had been standing a moment ago. I’d shot him at least three times and kept squeezing the trigger until the gun stopped firing.

My next breath got caught up in my throat when I realized what I’d done. My gaze moved away from where Chuck was standing, in time for me to see Aaron raising his gun and putting a bullet in the back of Dutch’s head. The sound of the close boom left both my ears ringing, but I preferred the ringing to Dutch’s incessant screams. The sudden silence allowed my brain to reflect on the deadly moment I’d just survived.

I stood stunned, not believing I was in one piece. After Dutch’s lifeless body hit the floor, Aaron spun quickly to check me out. His frantic hands brushed over my body, searching for bullet holes.

“Are you shot?” he asked, his voice frantic.

It hadn’t occurred to me until Aaron’s question that Chuck and Clint had had enough time to shoot Aaron and me.

Aaron took the gun from my hand and placed it on the counter behind us. I glanced down at my body, expecting to see a hole though some part of it. I swept my hands over my chest with quick movements. Aside from Dutch’s splattered blood, there was no sign that I had been shot or was losing any of my blood.

My mind snapped back when I noticed that Aaron was injured.

“Shit! They got you.”

Aaron caught my hands and held them firmly inside his. Mine were shaking like crazy, but his were perfectly calm.

“Trust me, this is nothing but a flesh wound. I’ll get you to patch me up later.”

The wound looked like he’d been nicked across the neck with a knife. There wasn’t much blood, so I calmed down enough to think. I closed my eyes and took a much-needed deep breath before Aaron pulled me against his solid chest. I settled into his embrace, throwing my arms around his torso as I buried my face in his strong chest.

“I’m sorry you had to witness and participate in this shit,” he said, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “This is what I was trying to make you understand about the kind of people you were getting yourself involved with.”

I’d recovered enough to think more clearly. After glancing up at Aaron while wrapped in his arms, I spoke the last words he expected to hear from me.

“I know you can’t call the cops, so I’ll help you clean this up.” I paused for a moment before I asked, “Can you give me the full story of why these guys wanted to kill you and how you came to kill Chuck and now both of his sons?”

Most people never considered that some writers took their work as seriously as some reporters. Some of us were willing to go into the belly of the beast if it meant finding a decent enough story to write or report about or to gain first-hand knowledge, insight, and ideas.

However, the jury was still out on me. I didn’t know if I was just plain crazy or if Aaron had been right all along. Maybe I got off on being scared. Nevertheless, there was no way I was not going to use some of the gruesome action I’d witnessed in my time with The August Knights Motorcycle Club in some of my upcoming books.

Aaron didn’t hide the twinge of shock that inched into his gaze. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say to me as his gaze searched mine.

I explained, “I’m a writer. As crazy as it may appear to you, I just witnessed and survived enough to find a way to turn it into two or three bestsellers. I literally just stared death in the face and lived to talk about it. I can’t let something so astounding go to waste.”

Aaron’s hands dropped away from me at this point. He stared like he’d just seen the real me for the first time. My words seemed to have unnerved him more than the dead bodies on his kitchen floor.

He stared at me and down at the bodies alternately like he was trying to decide which was worse—my ability to handle a kitchen full of dead bodies or his actual kitchen full of dead bodies.

He unconsciously tapped me on my ass, and as much as I hated to admit it with dead bodies at my feet, I liked it. A moment ago, I was scared out of my twisted mind, but now that I’d gotten over the shock of it all, I was fine.

“Gather all the cleaning supplies, mop, and bucket, and all the bleach we have in the house. I have more supplies in the storage shed that I need to go out and grab.”

I guess that meant that he’d decided to take me up on my offer to help him clean up. However, he didn’t comment on the exclusive I’d asked him for, on his involvement with Chuck.

* * *

I paused when Aaron entered the kitchen. He’d had to go up the back stairs and through the living room and back since both exits out of the kitchen were blocked by dead bodies.

He carried what I assumed was acid or some type of body dissolving agent. He placed the two gallon-sized jugs on the counter as he released a stack of rags from under his arms.

The dead men on his floor weren’t as interesting as he found me right then. Once he sat down the supplies, he stepped closer to his side of the counter and leaned over, eyeing me suspiciously. He pinned me with a gaze I couldn’t read, studying me.

“What are you doing, Megan?”

What could I say? He’d caught me standing over a dead body, studying it. I was interested to see where I’d shot Chuck since it seemed I’d been in some sort of daze when I’d pulled the trigger. Of course, I couldn’t tell Aaron why I’d been standing over a dead man.

“Seeing all we’ll have to clean,” I answered, lying.

“Come here, Megan.” Aaron beckoned me closer with a commanding finger.

I stepped away from Chuck’s lifeless body and walked over Clint’s to get to Aaron as Dutch’s dead eyes stared at us from the other direction.

“Yes?”

He gripped my shoulders, pulling me closer before he spoke. “You know. I assumed that you were in shock earlier when you started talking about writing at a time like this. But, I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

He didn’t give me time to answer his question.

“You aren’t shocked at all. This excites you, and I think you’re just as fucking bat-shit crazy as me because watching you take all this crazy shit with ease has my fucking dick harder than a brick.”

My nipples hardened at his words and pressed against the soft fabric of his T-shirt. The sound of his voice, so hungry for me made my pussy muscles clench. Nothing more needed to be said. I reached down and palmed Aaron’s dick hard. The action caused him to take a deep sip of air as his mouth dropped open.

A second later, I was being hoisted on top of the table as Aaron proceeded to rip my underwear off. Despite all that had happened, I still hadn’t put on any pants or shoes. My legs were bruised from the fall we had taken on top of Dutch, and my arm and elbow were all scraped and battered, but I didn’t care.

All I could do was gasp when Aaron tugged down his pants and shoved his long, thick dick into my slick pussy with a hard thrust that reached clean to the back of me. Aaron’s powerful legs slapped against my inner thighs as the thump of the rocking table under our weight echoed over the dead silence of our audience.

We were so turned on and excited that it seemed like it only took minutes for us to reach our peak. I came so hard that my head swam with lightheadedness before I exploded into a cloud of a brilliant sensation. Aaron’s loud roar as he came inside me probably scared animals roaming outside in the woods.

After we came down from whatever sick and twisted thrill that had taken our minds, I finally threw on some pants and prepared to start the task at hand.