Free Lilith: Lucifer's Legion Motorcycle Club by Kelli Maine

breaks, Luc.”
    “I fuckin ’ got it covered,” I say, and take two steps by
him
toward my bike.
    “I’ll
have Randy cover for you,” he says, making me stop in my tracks and turn
back
around.
    “Randy
doesn’t touch that bitch without me there,” I say. “Got it?”
    Butch
steps toe-to-toe with me. “You forget your place. What I say goes. I’m in
charge of this club, not you.”
    “What
do you know about training bitches? Nothin ’. That’
s
why you brought my ass here. Let me do my job. You’re in charge of the club,
and I’m in charge of the bitch.”
    He
steps back and raises his chin, eyeing me. “Take your ride.”
    I
watch him stride across the lot and go inside. I swear to fuck, if he has
Randy
so much as look at her, I’ll kill them both.
    I
get on my bike and start it up. The vibration and growl of the engine get me
all fuckin ’ worked up. I rev it and fly out onto
the
highway, in need of fuckin ’ speed and
recklessness.
    It
starts fuckin ’ raining, lighting flashing across
the
sky. I don’t fuckin ’ stop, just keep goin ’ ‘til I hit Skeleton Canyon Road. It’s not
maintained
for shit, and the rain makes it slick. I don’t slow down though, cuz I ain’t no pussy. Don’t
know
who the fuck I’m provin ’ it to though, because wreckin ’ my bike and splittin ’
my fuckin ’ head open ain’t gonna prove shit except that I’m fuckin ’ stupid.
    My
headlight shines on a gate across the road up ahead. I brake, and my back
tire
slides. I skid sideways, losing control and run
off
the side of the road. Coming to a stop, I put my feet down and rest my head
against the handlebars.
    Fuck. Drinkin ’ and smokin ’ and fuckin ’ rain beatin ’ down don’
t
mix for ridin ’ a bike.
    I
get off and walk down the middle of the deserted road to the gate and prop
my
foot up on it. Ain’t nothin ’
but miles of dirt and rock under the dark sky with lightning bolts that
crack
when they hit the ground.
    This
gate is like my fuckin ’ bitch in the basement. Can
’t
get by it. I gotta do something, and there’s only one thing I can do.
     
    She’s
huddled on the bed when I get back. “Cold, babe?” I ask. I let her keep her
clothes on this time. I can’t fuckin ’ trust myself
to
even look at her naked without gettin ’ thoughts in
my
head that shouldn’t fuckin ’ be there.
    If I
came in here and found her buck ass naked, and Randy had been down here, all
fucking hell would break loose. Lucky for his pretty face, she’s not been
touched.
    She
nods and pulls the dirty-ass sheet up around her chin. The bitch deserves fuckin ’ goose feather pillows and shit, not a
come-stained
sheet in a cold, damp basement.
    “It’s
late,” I tell her. “Get to sleep.” When I get to the door, I look back to
find
her eyes on me. “You’ve done good, babe.” I walk out and shut the door
behind
me, squeezing the key in my hand, leaving it unlocked. I pray to fuck she
runs
and runs far. Far enough none of us can find her in the morning. I’ll take
the
heat for forgetting to lock the door. For not having a bitch to deliver to
the fuckin ’ cartel. I don’t fuckin ’
care. She’s not the kind of bitch I can hand over.
    Upstairs,
Rhonda’s leaning against the door to my room, waiting on me. “Thought you
might
want to spend some time with a woman who already knows what she’s doin ’,” she says, running her palms over my chest. “You
can
just lay back and let me do all the work.”
    “Bitches
who offer their pussies up to every man with a cock don’t do it for me,
babe,”
I say, opening my door and pushing by her.
    “Oh,
I forgot,” she says. “You don’t fuck the willing.”
    “I
don’t fuck for shits ‘n giggles, bitch,” I say. “My time and my cock are too
valuable for cunts like you.” I close the door in her face, and brace my
hands
on my hips, breathing hard. I want to throw something through the fuckin ’ window. Put my fist through the fuckin ’
wall.