Gang Up: A Bikerland Novel (11 page)

Robin had seen all this because it had happened when she was trying to get back in after the altercation with Abigail. In front of the Compound gates and walls there was about thirty feet of cleared space on any side. If ever a person took up space with a caravan or a wagon, the Family would—within just minutes of its arrival—confiscate the obstruction immediately. There were warnings posted all over the walls, and guards always on duty to warn people away, and so they considered themselves justified in this action.

So, to stay out of the view of the crowd, she had crouched beneath a fallen billboard until they were properly dispersed. And then she entered herself easily, the guards recognizing her. Everyone in the Family knew Robin by conversation, by name, or at the very least by face. It was hard to forget a beautiful face like hers even in the worst of times. She always did her honest best to look as beautiful as possible, knowing her place as a woman—to look as pretty as she could for the pleasure of strong, sure men.

The guards truly displayed some despicable behavior, Robin had thought. Turning their weapons on the citizen of a place. A citizen these warriors were supposed to be protecting—the whole reason why they were warriors in the first place. She didn’t think you could turn a weapon on someone without the intent to use one—that wasn’t what she had been taught by Titus or even Troy. If you aimed at someone with a loaded gun, that was intent. And the intent didn’t just wash away if an ultimatum was there. It lingered like the bad taste of a rotten onion far past its time.

Desperate times called for equally desperate measures, she supposed. But it would be nicer if the measures had been more thought out. Desperate times were never that far away in the wastes.

So, holed up in the bunker, alone in her concrete quarters, she said nothing about the behavior to anyone.

There, alone in that concrete cube, she was left alone with nothing but her thoughts. This was the worst place to be for a woman like Robin. She loved accounts and numbers because there was always some new way to adjust them. Some new way to approach them that would create a long-term gain as opposed to a short-term one. Or to pay down this craggy debt over here instead of that easy one, and then stack the next few payments so that it would go down quicker. Or allocate the money to spread it all out even, pushing everything down like it was beneath some kind of fiscal press.

But the defenses of the Compound were well-seen to. All the men knew their job, and the Family was nothing if not prepared for any eventuality—even attacks on their own property. Titus, who was war-born and knew the savagery of man with an intimate reality, made sure of this and had instilled it deep in his children. And even if Case or Troy had let something slip, it had been days only since Titus’s death. Not enough time for any of his old preparations to get out of hand, yet.

God, days ago. Robin ran a hand over her face and then swept her fingers through the thick blackness of her hair. It seemed like weeks. Months. But it had only been days before that Titus was at dinner, laughing and flirting with Sandra. Making jokes about those high-hats in Dallas.

She didn’t want to be left alone in the confines of the concrete bunker. She didn’t want to be down there at all. She wanted to be with Brall, and Brall alone. Her body ached for him. His touch. His cock. His seed. She felt like drowning in it. Being soaked in wave after wave of his cum until every last one of her thoughts was washed away, until she was baptized in his name. A full believer and worshiper in the Church of Brall. Her pussy tinged at the thought. She’d have to ask him about that if she ever got the chance. What he thought about being called God. About being called Master. Just as a way to get them both off.

Or, she thought heatedly, as a new way to live her life.

She walked out into the corridor and to the North, following carefully inscribed yellow arrows to the command center where Case paced back and forth around his table. Worry on his thick brow, every heavy muscle flexed with tension. She opened the door without knocking.

“Have you heard anything?” he asked, thumbing through the bookshelves in the corner. “Are they still holed up?”

“How would I know?”

“How would—” he turned, seeing her now. “Oh. It’s just you.”

“Nice to see you too.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m glad to see you, Robin. I’m just...worried, is all. And I don’t like being holed up here. This the worst kind of being for me, I have to tell you. If I could be anywhere else, doing anything else...doing
something
...” He shook his head. “Instead we have to wait for them to act, because that’s how this works. That fucking
idiot
—” he paused. “Shut the door.”

Robin did.

“That idiot. Your brother. I can call him that, can’t I?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call him my brother. It makes me a little sick to think about.”

“You’ve got a tongue on you, sure enough.” Case smiled, but just as soon as it arrived, it fell away. “I could have...fixed it. I know I could have. I wanted to, right away. Had thoughts of how. But then Troy went and did what he did...goddamn.” He shook his head. “What’s the point of having a bicameral leadership if no one talks to one another?”

“Unity, I think.”

That's what Case had talked about when he introduced the idea, anyway.

“Does this look like unity to you? All my men holed up. All Troy’s men gallivanting around like they’re accomplish something. And the Cauldron attacking tonight, somewhere. I know they will.” His voice became quiet. “It’s what I’d do, anyway.”

Robin had little doubt of that.

“Is there any chance of me getting out of here anytime soon?”

Thoughts of Brall surged upward. Holding her down. Choking her while driving his cock into her tiny hot pussy. Singing his praises while she stroked his cock all day long...

“Not really.”

“I didn’t do anything, Case.”

He laughed. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“If you’re mad at me. I didn’t do anything.”

“Sign of a guilty conscience.” He said, smiling.

“What is?”

“Insisting you’re innocent when no one is accusing you of nothing. What’d you do, girl?”

“Nothing.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “Guilty again.”

“How is someone not guilty, in your eyes?”

“I guess first they gotta not say anything.” He laughed. “And then not do anything. And then die, never having said or doing nothing.”

“It can’t be that everyone’s guilty.”

“You might as well say that it can’t be that the land’s not hot. But it’s hot. All day and up ‘til the night. It’s hot and we live in it. You’re guilty and you live with it. There’s no changing that.”

“So are you, then.”

“Yes ma’am, I am. And I know it.”

The thought arrived suddenly that Case really was attractive.

She could just fuck him, she realized. He wouldn’t mind, most like. Case was a real man. He fucked whoever he wanted, whoever he came across. Abigail didn’t seem to mind that he fucked so many other women—so why not Robin? She could just fuck him to get out of there.

That’s something Abigail would do, but that didn’t make it a bad idea. Abigail couldn’t be caged.

He was strong, like Brall. In command, like Brall. And there was something deliciously savage about his countenance, his actions, even with all the thought he put into his work.

“Why do you want out so much? What’s out there for you? Your job? You don’t gotta worry about those numbers, girl. They'll be waiting for you.”

“It’s not that.”

“Your girl? Abigail? I’m worried about her too. Don’t tell Troy that, though. He’ll get high and mighty. And I’m pissed with Abigail. But I don’t want her hurt. You got my word on that.”

“It’s...that’s good. Thank you. But it’s not that either.”

He adjusted his weight slightly, sitting down on his desk and examining a map on his wall. “What is it, then? You got a man or something?”

Robin froze up, searching for an excuse. She hadn’t expected to be asked so directly. She hadn’t planned on making anything up. This is why Abigail was so good at misdirection—always contingency plans.

Case turned around slow. “You got a man?”

“I...” she shook her head. “No. It’s something else.”

He nodded. “You got a man. Listen, that’s fine, all right? I’m not gonna begrudge you nothing. It don’t surprise me none. In fact, I’m surprised nobody spoke up for you before. What happened? It was almost all settled, then you and I got declared, and he got cold feet? I don’t blame him.”

Neither would Robin, had the man Case referred to existed. Anybody in the Family put their life on the line by trying to take something from the leadership.

“What’s his name?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“So you
do
have a man.”

Her mouth twisted. “I’d rather not say.”

“Fair enough. You don’t gotta tell me. You don’t have to do nothing, really. But it should stop. And soon. It’ll have to stop by our mating ceremony. Better sooner, don’t you think?”

Tell him what he wants to hear. Tell him anything to shut him up. Let him keep believing this.

“...yes.” She nodded. “No, yes. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t nothing. A girl’s gotta have somebody. It was right unnatural, pretty as you are, staying unattached. I’m sorry I have to ruin somebody’s day for it. But that’s how it’s got to be.”

He took his hands in hers. The palms giant, meaty. Almost as big as Brall’s...almost. Robin knew Brall would be driven wild by this sort of close, intimate touching. He would fight Case to the death for the dishonor of it.

“You listen to me, now. We’re important to this family. The both of us. We’re going to give it peace. You know what’s more valuable than peace?”

Love.

But she said what he wanted to hear. “Nothing.”

“That’s right. I don’t aim to hurt you none, got me? I’m sorry we’re having to start like this. But we’ll smooth it out, all right? You and me. I’ll give you one hell of a ride in the sack, too.”

Robin, the beautiful babe who just the day before had been wildly rutting with the rival gang leader basically in public, somehow managed to blush.

“You like that, huh?” He stroked her cheek. “God, you are pretty. How about it?”

He dragged her hands down his body. Robin didn't fight him. He was so strong, so confident. Every muscle so smooth and hard. Fuck, but he was turning her
on
. Soon, her hands rested on his pulsing bulge beneath his pants.

“How's that? You've always been a good girl, Robin. You want to be mine? I'll fuck you better than your other man, that's for sure. Better than any man in the Family.”

Slowly, he took out his cock. Already half-hard and nearly as thick around as her wrist. Drool filled her mouth. Little droplets of precum dotted the head. It wasn't Brall's cock, but it was a cock of a well-hung stud, and Robin certainly had the taste for that now. It was beautiful, so thick and long. She wanted to lick the head clean of all of its precum. It would be so easy. She could have it done in just a few moments.

“Why don’t you give it a try now? I could show you how.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted that. Her body did—that was for sure. Just the offer made her salivate a little more. Her pussy moistening. Her heart belonged to Brall, and she knew that to be completely true. She only ever wanted to be his, in mind, body, and soul. But the both of them—Case and Brall—were so similarly strong and powerful, so totally male, that it was hard to push her urges down. Even if she
thought
she didn’t want it, her mind also quickly created thoughts of what it would be like to suck on Case’s cock. To wrap her lips slowly over the head, luxuriating in his dense man taste. To feel her own moans reverberate off his engorged skin.

To be throatfucked like Brall had done to her just the day before.

Putting me on my knees. My mouth slipping over his member, eyes wide. Tears forming not from fear or even joy but from the soft, urgent pleasurable pain of taking so much inside of me at once. Like the back of my throat is connected to my cunt, and every hot thrust jamming there is a hot hand running against my clit. Oh god oh god.

It would be hot.

“I...no.”

She backed away. Soon, her ass was against the door knob. Case smiled, and, sighing, put his cock back in his pants.

“You’ll have to, sooner or later. It’s a good wife’s duty.”

“I know. It’s just...I’d like to wait. For now.”

“All right, girl. But I don’t take kindly to asking twice and getting turned down again. You hear me? Be ready.”

––––––––

L
ater that evening, Case stepped outside into the open air. He took a breath of the hot air, wishing for some reprieve from the heat out in the open air. Sometimes at night the air would cool, but not this night.

God, but Robin had gotten him horny. She really was a beautiful woman. She would make a lovely wife. If only he could have brought Abigail around on the idea. If only he had been able to explain...

A guard, Fenton, approached from behind.

“Sir, you really ought to stay in. At least until the rest of the riders get back. It’s—”

He waved the man off. If someone was going to kill him, then they would kill him.

Case couldn’t bear to be holed up for very long. Even in a tight place with a beauty like Robin—who’s gorgeous features only became more gorgeous as he closed his proximity to her—his cooped up feelings intensified as the hours went on. He felt pressed upon, weighed down by the concrete and the earth. It was a disagreeable condition for him.

Trying to sober himself, he thought back to an interaction earlier in the day with Sandra.

You cannot forget your father's death. I won't let you.

He shook his head. Sandra really was focused on it. It was a good mystery, but it was a mystery, and Case only wanted to deal in absolutes.

Sandra appeared to have some plan, some notions, but he couldn't tell what they were yet. Only that she was diving headlong into trouble, and that he wouldn't be able to stop her. He couldn't stop her doing anything.