Angel
I would've bled out if you told me your favorite color was red.
—
Red was an expert at explosives. There was no doubt about it. His time in Afghanistan as a marine ensured that. In result, he had his demons and cross to bare. Everyone in the club had heard his horrific screams in the middle of the night, the night terrors. Him and I looked over the blueprints from the back of the club's van, bouncing at every bump Wes took. That old guy drove like he had a fucking death wish. I'd almost be scared if I wasn't so excited.
"It smells like shit," Red gagged.
I couldn't help but smirk. "Because it is." We had pounds of manure behind us, and the smell was overwhelming and foul.
"And the silverware and marbles, brother?" Red grimaced, shaking his head. "That's some fucked up shit. Who thinks of this stuff?" His eyes connected with mine, genuinely curious. I saw no judgement.
I grinned lazily, leaning back on the mounds of duffel bags in the van like a king. "You should meet my sister, man." I didn't talk much about her, but she really was something.
He shook his head, frowning. "There could be women and children in their compound, Angel." Red dragged his hands through his beard, his eyes up ahead on the road.
"The Raging Bastards have taken enough from our club. Taken enough from Trace, from our family, don't you think?" I asked, my fingers pointing to the piles of explosives waiting behind us.
Red glanced at me warily. "Is there a way to get them out first, brother? You don't want that on your shoulders. Not when you hear their screams from being burned alive. Trust me," he muttered. And I did trust him. He was my brother, I trusted him with my life. He was right. I'd seen my fair share of fiery death as a firefighter.
I nodded, "okay then, we send a message somehow first? Or we'll clear rooms." Red looked relieved, relaxing.
"I have just the thing to do that." He nodded once before continuing to stare out the window, in his own little world.
I'd started hating the drive to Augusta, Georgia. Hating the Raging Bastards more and more for their hold over Riley and the way I saw it affecting Trace. He was on edge, snapping at Wolf and anyone who brought up her absence. Then Wolf would be pissed off and it was a big domino effect. He'd never admit how much he missed her. Their relationship wasn't good, and anyone from the outside looking in knew that. She barely showed her face anymore. My mind always went for the worst, thinking she was sleeping with Rage, making herself known as a Queen among their ranks.
I had a bad feeling about today.
Another hour passed and we didn't talk, thinking about the mission. We parked a few miles west of their compound, behind the other vans. We had bags of manure, several gas cans full of diesel fuel, and explosives in duffel bags. Everyone grabbed a haul and we began to make the trek through the thick forest. Night had just fallen, giving me confidence.
London walked next to me, grinning and nudging me. "I'm excited to finally see you in action. I was thinking your arson speciality was a myth."
Diablo snorted. Kane fell in step beside us. "The man, the myth, the legend?" I hadn't spoken to him much since his prison release and couldn't tell if he was ridiculing me.
"Guess we'll have to see," I smirked at him, hard.
Kane cocked an eyebrow at me. "You know, at first I didn't see why Trace didn't tell me about Gentry's replacement of Sergeant-at-Arms. You're the exact opposite of him." He shrugged, veering left to avoid a fallen branch.
Diablo muttered, "that ain't a compliment," from behind me. I flipped him the bird over my shoulder and he laughed. His snicker was like hellfire and nails on a chalkboard. He never laughed which made it all the more unnerving.
"Meant no disrespect." Kane shrugged, uncaring. "Gentry was Papa's son. I was all he had in there. If he had found out his kid had died, he would have killed everyone he could have gotten his hands on. It was hard enough staying alive in prison with his temper." Papa had destroyed nearly half of the clubhouse when finding out the news that his son was killed in a hit and run. Understandably. He'd taken off to Tennessee weeks ago, to be with family.
"Your tactics sure are different," Diablo responded, his accent thick. "Gentry would have executed every last Bastard years ago. He loved death like Wolf loves pussy."
"I heard that!" Wolf called from up ahead, where he was leading us through the woods. Trace was near him, with Wes and Cowboy flanking. They all laughed, even though everyone was weighted down carrying shit. Red and Spider brought up our rear, the quietest of us all. Twitch had stayed back at the clubhouse to watch over everyone.
When we reached the edge of the forest, we stopped. We stood side by side, barely breathing as we scouted it out. A steep hill led down to the entirety of the Raging Bastard's compound. Poor construction on their part, as now we had the advantage to attack on the offensive. The building looked like a factory, standing just two stories tall, with gleaming silver siding and concrete. The property surrounding it was barren, like we were in the desert instead of Georgia. A tall fence with razor wire at the top enclosed the yard and building. It was ugly to say the least. A dozen bikes were parked out front, and tall stadium lights shone down brightly on the property. We could hear faint music coming from inside, but nothing like our parties. I spotted no security cameras, which struck me as odd. It was almost eerie.
I breathed in deep, my brain whirling of how we could go about this. Trace watched me, waiting. He trusted me to take the lead on this.
"Red brought thermals to scope it out. No women and children will be harmed. I say we detonate the first few rounds as a warning. Stand guard at every entrance and unload bullets in any MC member attempting to flee. The manure and diesel should combust quick. Get back or you will be hit with shrapnel. We have minutes before this is over. Only hostages allowed will be Shooter and Rage. Then we just fucking light it up, no evidence. Turn it to ash." I spoke low and fast, everyone's eyes on me. My eyes were on their clubhouse, where no one was standing guard. They were practically begging for an attack. My brothers all stared at me, thinking it over. Trace blinked first, giving a firm nod.
"Sounds brutal. I like it," Spider grinned, walking slowly along the forest and fence, towards the back of the massive building. One lightbulb was out above the area, plunging the northwest corner into complete darkness and cover. He lightly threw a stick against the outer fence and we waited. No electricity zapped it, so it wasn't electrified. A distant dog barked as Spider began to clip a section in the fence. He paused but nothing happened. He continued with the wire cutters, making a rectangle big enough for us to fit through, one by one. This would be the only evidence they would find.
Spider took the lead, then Wes. They began unzipping duffels, taking out the explosives carefully. I grabbed the detonator from a bag, tossing out trash bags full of manure from the duffels as quickly as I could. Red hauled down the gas canisters. Everyone hid in the blacked out region and waited for commands. London pulled out a tablet, going over some last minute details. He nodded to the pack next to my feet.
"First round is only this bag," he muttered. His thumb hovered over a black circular button on the remote. His brown eyes connecting with mine slowly. "Second round is this one," his thumb moved, showing me a gray square. His eyes danced with intelligence. This was the stuff he was good at.
"I won't forget," I slapped him on the back, leaving him and grabbing the duffel at my feet.
Red and I started dishing out scattered explosives that would go off in the second round of hits. We were pairing explosives around the manure. Cowboy, Wes, London, Wolf and Kane grabbed a trash bag, running to surround the perimeter of the building. I saw from my angle Kane drawing his gun after placing the manure and explosives. We were hitting every entrance and under the windows. We had Molotov cocktails ready to throw through the window glass.
"You detonate first?" Diablo asked, his eyes dark and burning into me. He had just run the cans of gas around the building, spilling all of it. He stopped the gas trail before reaching me. I don't know how the Bastards couldn't smell it, because it was overpowering my adrenaline.
"Yeah, I got it. Red and I will take the entrance." I nodded and his face morphed into one of pure evil.
He had an assault rifle in each hand. "I've been waiting a long time for this, brother. Don't let me down," he practically snarled like a feral beast. I should've shit my pants, if I was a scared fucker. But fire was my thing and with Red's help, we had one hell of a mission.
I walkie-talkied the other brothers, letting them know the plan. Diesel soaked manure would burn up. We had dropped various silverware into the manure so that it would explode. Plus the actual explosives and Molotov cocktails? This should be cake. The building would burn quick and mercilessly.
Trace stood back, watching the building. Shadows passed by the windows, completely unaware. "It seems so quiet," he pulled at his hair, pacing back and forth. "Too easy."
"Got the thermals up," Red whispered, handing me the binoculars. "Clear of any civilians."
I grabbed them from him, taking a look. The thermal binoculars recognized body heat and I counted ten or so red shadows of wriggling men inside. I slowly and diligently searched every room around their compound, looking for any woman or children shapes. I nodded to him.
"We surrounded?" I radioed to Wolf. Red dropped the last bag at the entrance, sprinting back towards the fence. We were no longer under the cover of darkness. Us Reapers loved darkness.
"Copy that."
"Three count." I lit my butane torch, placing it in the path from the gas canister. "Let's light it up," I whispered, chills running down my body. I pressed the black button, detonating the first explosives.
I closed my eyes, waiting. The front steel doors blew out, front windows shattering. Fire spread rapidly in a large square around the building. I pocketed the detonator in my cut, drawing an AK-47 from my back holster. Red was my shadow, doing the same.
"ANY WOMEN OR CHILDREN, COME OUT NOW! YOU WILL NOT BE HARMED." Red screamed.
We waited five seconds, nothing. I radioed, "countdown five until last round, Evacuate and draw." My trigger hand reached for the detonator in my pocket. Five... four... The Raging Bastards fired bullets from inside. Red and I scrambled, having no cover. Three... Red fired back, running to the right and around the side of building. Two... I went left, firing my weapon at the windows and doors. One...
I smashed the gray button, running towards the fences as I heard several beeps. The explosions still rocked me off my feet, and I slammed face first into the perimeter fence. I looked around, seeing most of my brothers crouched in various spots around the fence, too. The moments that passed were silent, heavy.
"FINISH IT!" I shouted, sprinting towards the building. The manure and diesel had started a fire, licking up the bricks of the Bastard's warehouse. Anyone who walked out the building would immediately be engulfed in flames. I heard the breaking of windows as we threw in the Molotov cocktails. Now we waited. Within seconds, anyone inside's survival instincts would kick in and they would try to get out.
"Got one!" I heard Wolf scream, before I heard gunfire.
"Second that!" came another voice before more gunfire screamed out.
This carried on for a few minutes, before it seemed that everyone inside was done. Dead. The manure started to explode, metal spraying the buildings. I sighed, seeing Trace walking towards my direction. He had come from the back of the building, his weapon drawn, eyes bright and alert.
"Clear, Prez?" I asked, scanning beyond the fences for any backup the Bastards may have called in.
Trace nodded. "I'll check on everyone and meet you back here. Wes took a fork to the thigh, the sick fuck." He shook his head and took off in a run along the fence edge, his weapon always pointed at the building. He radioed, "clear it up, let's go."
I lit a cigarette with the butane torch, making my way back towards the entrance. The crackle of fire soothed me as I stared at the front of the compound. Everything was burning rapidly. Spider, Wes, Wolf, Kane, and Diablo were running around and cleaning up, gathering any evidence. A short, scrawny man busted through a second story window, hitting the gravel ungracefully ten yards from me. I inhaled a lung full of smoke, watching as he struggled to stand. His leg was on fire and his MC cut gave him away. I pulled out my Smith & Wesson from the back of my jeans, shooting him in the head before he could run off. The manure was fizzling out.
"Damn son, when I told you to lighten up, I never thought you'd take it so literally!" London joked, his smile illuminated from the fire. He turned back to serious in an instant, on guard and walking the perimeter of the fire and looking for anyone who'd tried to escape.
My high started to crash, giving way to anger. "Let's just see what Riley can come back here to fuck tonight, huh?" I panted, nudging Cowboy beside me. He shook his head, unsmiling and rigid.
I didn't even realize Wolf was behind me before he began shouting.
"YO! What the fuck? Cut her some fucking slack, dude. She might have her reasons for doing what she's doing." He was pressing into my space, loud and spitting venom before backing away. He retreated, lifted his lip in hatred, glaring as he lit a joint. "Fucking pussy."
I faltered, my brain slow. Wait, what? "What the fuck do you know?" I shouted, taking him by the lapels of his cut and throwing him against the fence. My anger consumed me. He struggled, dropping his smoke and swinging at me. He clipped me in the eye and I slammed his head into the fence as response. Son of a bitch.
"You just fucking got here, you piece of shit. What do you know about anything? You gossiping about her like a little fucking bitch, dude. She's blood! Always has been, always will be!" Wolf thrashed like a wild animal in my hands, throwing constant swings.
"What do I know? I know I'm the one she wants to fuck, VP. Has fucked. Something you don't know shit about. Does it burn you up?" I spit in his face, raging.
"Fuck you!" Wolf shouted, headbutting me with force. My head reared back, my vision becoming fuzzy.
Trace was suddenly there, ripping us apart. He was shouting in our faces, each hand gripping Wolf and I by the throat. "As much fucking fun as it is to always discuss my mess of a goddamn sister, maybe you two fucks would like to know that Red is fucking gone!!" His gravelly voice was deafening as my vision started to finally close in on me.
-
The next few days we planned a homage to Red. We'd take a long bike ride around Georgia, visiting other clubs and collecting members before burying him in the cemetery in the forest behind the clubhouse.
Riley never showed up and Dallas didn't mention her. She dressed in black lace, hovering close to Trace and not responding to anyone but him at the funeral. The hit on our club was painful. Days passed, and the mood stayed low. He had only been a prospect, but he was a brother, a Reaper in death. Tons of brothers from other chapters stuck around for a few days. Riley never showed up and I wasn't sure if it was because she didn't know, or didn't care.
Red had told Spider he heard a child inside crying. Spider said he didn't hear shit, and tried to stop him. Red ran inside after the last explosion, and that was the last he was ever seen.
Weeks passed before I could no longer stand it. We were waiting for Bastard retaliation. I wanted to keep going on the offensive, but all the brothers were solemn, drunk every single day. Playing pool or out at target practice, mourning and swapping stories about Red. I was going to the Bastard's strip club tonight, even if it killed me.
—-
"I'm here for a private show." I muttered to the large man sitting at the bar, with a Bastards cut on. "I'll pay good money for a red head. Work was fucking rough today." I nodded to my white shirt and paint splattered jeans, hoping to pass off as just another blue collar worker.
The large dude with the long black hair nodded, an evil glint in his eye. He stood up, a good foot taller than me and scanning the dark neon room. He looked to have some Native American heritage and probably ate guys like me for breakfast. "I know just the bitch, follow me."
I ducked my head, my hair up in a plain black ball cap and trailed behind the scary Bastard. I tried not to take in the room with so much interest, but God was it hard. I didn't see Riley, and I don't think I wanted to. The hulk of a man led me to a private room, no questions asked.
"Don't even gotta tip her. Pay $300 at the end or I'll break your fucking kneecaps. Knock her around if you want, but not anything too obvious," he glanced at me up and down before slamming the door shut. Minutes passed and my mind convinced me I walked into a Bastard trap.
"Ride" by Somo suddenly blared through the speakers of the dark room. A black light over the black leather chair was the only lightness in the dark. The room was small, just enough for a chair and a table with a stereo.
The door opened slowly. My heart about stopped staring at her. She had on a lacy white bra, her breasts almost spilling out of it. Her white underwear was sheer and I was dying to run my tongue along the seams. She had on white fish net stockings with garters. Her red hair was up in a bun on her head, long pieces hanging down. The woman of my fucking dreams. I dreamt of her nearly every night too, even though Wolf made it clear she was Rage's. Basically Bastard property. And she didn't even know she was giving me this private dance.
Riley started to sway her hips to the music, lost in it. I couldn't see her eyes in the dark but I knew her makeup was smeared. Her crimson lips formed a perfect pink "O" when her heavy eyes did find mine and my dick jumped at it.
"Angel!" She whispered, standing straight and trying to cover her stomach and breasts.
"Don't hide from me baby, come here." I growled fiercely, holding my hand out to her. I spread my thighs wide, my white shirt glowing along with her lingerie.
"Y-You. You can't be here, Angel. This is bad." Riley whispered, her voice cracking. She looked ready to bolt, her eyes on the ceiling and finding something.
"Nothing bad about it, princess. Now come over here and give me the lap dance I payed for." I gritted my teeth, so fucking hot for her, furious at this fucking job of hers, still unable to touch her.
"After what y'all did to their compound? I'm lucky to still be alive..." moments passed, both of us at a standstill. She moved first, sauntering over to me, her hips rolling with the song. She turned around, her ass in my face as she moved to the rhythm. She twisted, watching me over her shoulder.
"How'd you get in here?" She whispered, her eyes dazed and lazy. Drunk or high, I want sure which. She dropped to the floor in a squat before rolling her ass back up, keeping her legs straight. I stifled a moan, watching the way she bounced, pure sex.
"You're my girl, Riley. Nothing could keep me away." My throat was thick as I talked. I knew I'd hurt her by flaunting Aspen in her face the last time I saw her. Dallas told me every damn time I saw her. I was as good as a Bastard.
Riley kept dancing, my eyes glued to her hips.
"They'll kill us both..." she mumbled, placing either one of her thighs on the outside of mine, but standing straight up on her knees so that her breasts were level with my eyes. I hummed, low in my throat approvingly. How many guys had she stripped for like this, danced for them so goddamn sexily. Had they touched her? It was bad enough they thought they even had a fucking chance... I pushed these thoughts out of my head, feeling murderous and crazy.
Riley's nose skimmed my neck, her lips feeling like feathers at my ears. "Mmm. You smell so good, Angel." Her breath smelled like alcohol, and it almost broke my fucking heart. "You feel so good."
"Show me? Baby, show me how good I make you feel." I didn't even recognize my own voice anymore, it was deep and demanding.
Riley finally began grinding down on me, her heat rubbing me through my jeans. She spread her legs wider, still dancing to the music. Her breathing increased as she felt how hard I was, for her.
We moaned in unison, her humping me through my clothes wasn't enough. But I stayed still; I didn't touch her. I let her dance on me, her hips swirling, her core meeting my dick through my jeans every few seconds.
"God..." she moaned out, swiftly moving her legs around so that her ass was backed up against my chest. Her hips swiveled down on me, a new song clicking over. We were plunged in silence for a few seconds.
Riley stood up, and I was terrified for a few seconds that she'd leave. She didn't though, instead sitting in my lap again and facing me, rubbing herself on me, hot and quick. I cursed. Riley slipped her tongue into my mouth then, giving me more. I sucked on her tongue, my hands finally moving to her hips and gripping her punishingly. I pushed her harder down on me, taking the opportunity to unzip my jeans, taking my throbbing dick out. Riley grabbed greedily at it, her thumbs leading my precum down one side. She moved her underwear to the side and placed me between her legs, her hips still moving with the bass of whatever song was playing. I moaned, frustrated. She sank down on me, and the heat and tightness was fucking heaven. I moaned loudly, not giving one single fuck that I was here, vulnerable and alone at my enemy's place. She began to ride me, still with her lingerie bottoms on.
I placed my hands on her ass, squeezing it roughly, about to lose my mind. I ripped the lace from her like a caveman, blind with lust.
We carried on fucking, taking our time with each other.
I stood once we finished, having her sit in the chair. My knees hit the floor as I cleaned her up afterwards. I trailed kisses down her inner thighs. She squealed in protest, trying to shove at my face. "I always take care of what's mine," I whispered, wiggling my eyebrows. She laughed softly, head thrown back and hair wild. She was so stunning I didn't want this moment to leave.
I stood, giving her my white shirt since I'd ripped her lingerie clean off. She grimaced, taking it reluctantly.
"I don't really know what all of this means," she murmured, voice soft. She was peaking at me from below her lashes, killing me.
"It means let's get the fuck out of here," I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the small back room. I led her straight towards the back exit, never wanting to look back. That way I couldn't see the man staring after us, Rage in his black eyes.