Play Dirty: Devil's Mustangs MC (13 page)

“Cal? Cal?” The voice is urgent, concerned, terrified. I drop my gun to my side and walk towards it, my hand covering my eyes from the lights.

“Michelle?” Her curvy, feminine figure makes an eerie silhouette.

She doesn’t have time to respond before the next round of bullets aim directly at us.

MICHELLE

“Michelle…Michelle?”

I struggle to wake up. I had fallen asleep in my bed early, transfixed in my dreams about fire. Erin stirring me, shaking me awake startles me to life. I turn to her groggily, wiping my eyes as I ask, “What is it? Why are you waking me up?”

“It’s your phone. It keeps ringing.” She hands it to me as I struggle to focus on the numbers as the phone plays its annoying little jingle over and over again. “I would turn it off, but I don’t know your passcode to get in. And I figure if someone is calling you over and over again, you’d want to know about it.”

“Yeah, I would.” My mind is trying to think about all the people I know that would call me like this. My parents are safely tucked away in Florida in good health and in good sunshine. The most they call me these days is to brag about the weather down there and to make sure I have been calling my aunt, Sally, on the weekends. The number doesn’t belong to them though, or anyone I know. It’s a random mix of numbers from this area code. 

“Who is it? Maybe the school? Do you think something happened -- like it burned down?” Erin isn’t going to leave until she has answers. She’s in this with me now.

“No. I don’t think so. If it were the school, I would have gotten a call from the phone tree. Plus, if it was a fire, I don’t think we wo--” I stop myself mid-sentence as I realize who it could be. I press the green answer button instantly as I whisper frantically into the phone, “Maddie? Maddie? Is this you?”

“Miss Springer! Miss Springer!” Her voice is frail and desperate. I can make out the sounds of women wailing and shouting in the background. There are some loud thuds that make the phone shake. “Miss Springer!”

“Maddie, it’s me. Tell me what’s going on.” I grab the phone to my ear as I run to my dresser. I throw on a pair of jeans and slip into a tank top.

“It’s the Coyotes. They’re back! They’re back! And they’re going to kill my dad!” She’s practically sobbing. It’s a complete contrast to the girl I saw during the last attack that was cool and calm, hiding in her own bedroom. Something about this must be different.

“Where’s your dad, Maddie? Why isn’t he with you? Are you in your room hiding like he told you last time?” Erin is following me throughout the house as I am searching desperately for my keys.

“He’s…I don’t know. I don’t know! He came and got me and the other girls and brought us downstairs into the basement. We keep hearing guns and explosions and stuff. I don’t know what is going on or where he is!” She pauses, holding back another long sniffle, “I’m scared, Miss Springer. I’m really scared. What if they killed him?”

I’m already out the door, Erin still trailing behind me. She’s putting on a pair of rain boots over her pajama pants and tying her hair back into a ponytail. But I’m focused on the little girl breaking down over the phone, “Maddie, don’t you move. Don’t go anywhere. Your dad put you down in the basement to protect you, and I’m sure he’s doing just that. But I’m going to come and get you okay. You stay close to this phone and wait for me to call you.” She doesn’t answer, but I can hear her cry. I say it slowly, calmly, “Please Maddie, tell me you understand my instructions.”

“I…I understand.”

“Good. Because I’m on my way.”

I turn the phone off and look towards Erin buckling her seatbelt. I put the phone on mute as I yell back at her, “Erin! You can’t do this. You can’t come with me.”

“Michelle, I’m not letting you go there alone and die trying to play hero. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into.”

“I know exactly what I am getting myself into. I have to go help. I have to save Maddie and Cal.”

Erin stares at me, her blue eyes lazering in on me as I start the engine. She unbuckles and slides out the side passenger door. As I put my hands to the wheels, she leans in over the open window and says, “Michelle, be safe out there. Take care of yourself first, okay?”

I give her a small nod before pressing my foot to the pedal and speeding out of my own driveway and gated subdivision. I drive down the backstreets through stop signs and red lights. I’m breaking almost every rule of the road as I focus on one thing only: getting that little girl out of there before she or her father gets killed.

About a block away from the clubhouse, I hear the bullets. I instantly slow, realizing this isn’t going to be as easy as I think. A man dressed in leather and boots runs past my car, clutching his side. My stomach churns as I consider calling the cops or even stopping to give him help. But I know better. He could be on the wrong side, or what I think is the wrong side at least.

As I get closer to the house, I start to see the carnage come to life. Men everywhere are running this way and that. And the lights to the adjacent homes are all turned off as if they are all in hiding, waiting out the storm. I know I can’t go any farther, at least in my car. No way can I drive through this mess without becoming a victim myself.

I make a quick decision to turn into the narrow and unlit alleyway behind the homes in hope of figuring out a better way in. I get about three homes before I am able to see clearly into the clubhouse’s backyard. Even in the darkness, I can see men crouched down behind those beat up cars they use for shooting practice and unkempt bushes and trees. On the other side is another group, the Coyotes.

They are grouping up and circling around a figure in the center near a storm door I haven’t noticed before. A storm door I think leads directly to the basement. I look down on my phone in a panic. Should I warn Maddie? Should I try to stop this now? I’m frozen in place, my nerves overtaking me.

Then, there’s a flash of light, a few pops of a gun, and then a burst of flames. I gasp in horror as I try to figure it all out. A body lies in the grass, not moving as more men from the Mustang’s side moves in. I know staying here isn’t a possibility. I pick up my phone and press the number that called me earlier.

I weave out of the alley and back into the street. A man spots me and points a gun towards my windshield. I drop the phone immediately, losing it between the leather seats of my car. I scream in a panic as I make my decision. I barrel my car into him as fast as I can, my car tires squealing and spinning as I rev up. This is my only defense. I have to do it. 

His body hits with a loud bang, causing me to push hard on my breaks. I watch as he rolls over the hood of my car and falls to the side of my driver’s side wheel. I don’t stop to see if he is still alive or if I managed to kill him. I can’t risk him being able to pull that gun back out at me.

I just keep going and going. I’m practically making circles around the block, but I am dead focused on getting that girl out of there before something happens to her. Finally, I see a garage just outside of the clubhouse. It’s the only place I can get out of plain view and the line of fire.

My lights illuminate the driveway, the cement, and four black boots…I panic as I try to decide if I need to kill these guys, as well. One is aiming his gun at me, but the other isn’t. The other is someone familiar, someone I came to save. I don’t think. I don’t stop. I put the car in park and run out.

Cal spots me first, calling my name in the darkness, his hand to his head to make out my figure better. But before I can answer, there’s more gunfire. The top of the garage is hit and then a light near the other man’s head. Cal screams out as he runs towards me, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m here to save you and your daughter! Maddie called me! Where is she?” I grab onto his arms, both of us ducking behind the car. The other man fires back towards where the bullets are coming from.

“She’s safe. She’s inside. The Mustangs are holding the Coyotes off.” Another round of pops land in my windshield. He looks at me and places a hand to my face as if he can’t believe that I am real. “Michelle,” he says urgently, “I have to get you out of here. Now!”

“What about Maddie, Cal? We can’t leave her!” I want to slap him, to make him see I don’t need protecting. It’s her we need to be worried about.

The man next to Cal turns around and gestures wildly, “I’ve got Maddie and the rest of the girls. Go! Get the teacher out of here!” 

Cal doesn’t need to think about it. He grabs my hand and opens the passenger side of the car, throwing me in and buckling my seatbelt for me. He runs to the other side and gets behind the driver’s seat. I throw the keys at him, and he starts it up instantly. The car purrs as he pulls out of the driveway and back into the alley from which I came.

I turn over my shoulder to see three men in our rearview mirror. They’re shouting something at us as they wave their guns over their head. A man fires, the glass of my back window flying, mixing on the floor of my car with the glass from the windshield. I scream uncontrollably as Cal pushes the car faster.

We manage to make it out of the neighborhood and back on a main street. Both of us are panting as we pull up to our first stop light. Cal turns left into an empty parking lot, turning off his car as both of us let out small, hurried gasps. It’s the first time either of us has had a moment to catch our breaths, to understand what just happened to both of us.

He turns to me, checking me. He places a hand to my face and I press my cheek into the warm, soothing palm. His fingers pull at something and I instantly recoil. When he pulls away, his hand is bloody and he holds a piece of glass for me to see.

I reach to my backseat and pull out an old sweatshirt. He places it to my head, holding it tight to the wound. He looks at me and gently says, “You’re going to be all right, Michelle. You’re going to be okay.”

I wrap my fingers around his wrist and lean my head’s weight into his hand. I believe him. I believe every word of it. As much as I don’t want to, I know he is real. He is my real savior, my protector. I need him just as much as I know he needs me.

I look up at him, my eyes catching his glittering in the mixture of the moon and the streetlight. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I am lost, so lost. He lowers the sweatshirt and places his hand to my mouth. I kiss his fingertips, his palm, his wrist tenderly. My lips make a trail down to his wrist and up his arm until I have reached over the driver’s seat towards him.

He pulls the seat back and allows me to curl up in his arms, snuggling his chest. His arms wrap around me as our lips meet. It’s soft and sweet -- words I never thought I’d describe a moment with Cal Ross as. But with each kiss, it become urgent, a plea. The thought of our lives both being taken away like that comes flooding back to us as we go deeper, him finding my tongue and sucking on it hard. I return the favor by taking in his bottom lip, biting down on it hard.

Cal’s hand slips under my tank top, finding the bare skin. His dull fingertips dig into me as he moves upwards towards my neck, guiding my kisses. The other hand lifts the shirt over my head. I’m braless, exposed, but I don’t mind. All I can think of is his hands on my chest and his cock inside of me.

His fingers find my nipples, first warming them under his touch. I arch my back towards the steering wheel as his hands follow. His fingers tease at the tips of my brown nipples as he slightly pulls and pushes them in a round. His thumb rocks up and down on the nub sending me reeling.

Cal pulls my body back towards him, lifting me up so my breast lines up with his mouth. I let out a soft moan as I feel his wet, lapping tongue soak my nipple in his mouth. His tongue continues the twisting, circular motion his hands had just done while his teeth scrape up against the fleshy part of my small breasts. When he bites down, my hand shoots up towards the car’s ceiling, holding myself in place.

He places his head between my breasts and plants small kisses. But that can’t distract from me noticing his hands yanking down at my jeans. I stand between his straddled legs as I slip the tight pants down my legs. He follows me by pulling his own down, his large, erect cock spilling out of his pants.

I come back to his lap, sitting so my already wet pussy is hovering just above his cock. I take his mouth again, diving my tongue in. He murmurs as I begin to rock my hips up and down and in a long swivel. His cock dances underneath me in pleasure. He pulls me in tighter, holding me in place. Before he enters me, he takes one long, tantalizing look into my eyes.

And then I feel it. It’s as if I am being split open. His cock drives deep into my folds, parting me like a knife. It’s painful in a way that makes me call out immediately, but I don’t stop. I don’t push him out. I want to feel every inch, every bit of him growing inside of me. A small, fiery pit grows in my stomach as he begins to push up into me.