Saved (Lucifer's Legion Motorcycle Club #4)

SAVED

Lucifer’s Legion Motorcycle Club #4

Kelli Maine

Her body crashes to the floor, right in front of me, before the echoes of the gunshot have even died out. It happens so suddenly, that there are a few moments of silence as we all watch her fall to the ground and lie there, the pistol still held in her hand. The calm before the storm.

There was enough fuckin’ tension in the air already, and in a few confused seconds it reaches a boiling point. The Cartel fucker in a vest - the boss’s muscle - is the first one to act. Within seconds he’s holdin’ his gun up, shoutin’ in Spanish. He’s edgy, and doesn’t look like he’s gonna wait for an order from the boss to shoot. Then Pretty Randy grabs his gun. He’s slower to act, but once the dumbass figures out what’s goin’ on he draws quick.

“Debería matarte idiotas aquí! Aficionados de mierda!”

“Who do you think you’re pointin’ your gun at, motherfucker!?”

“Calm the fuck down!” says Butch, tryin’ to get the two of them to put the guns away. He’s got a hand on his gun too, but he’s too controlled to do somethin’ stupid.

The evil-lookin’ Cartel boss still ain’t showin’ much, but I’d bet he ain’t fuckin’ happy the bitch he came for just shot herself in front of him.

Me? I’m still lookin at Lilith. At Amber. At the dead fuckin’ body of a bitch that I spent the last few days with. That I nearly fuckin’ ran away from everything with. That had a story so fuckin’ similar to mine it almost felt like there was a thread connecting us. The
soul of my soul.
Now she’s gone, and I can feel the thread pullin’ at me…

A gunshot splits the air again, breaking me out of my thoughts. I look up. It’s the evil fucker, a snub in his hand pointed at the sky. Everyone else goes silent, all eyes on him.

The Cartel boss gestures for his muscle to lower his gun, and at the same time puts his own gun back beneath his suit. His leathery face is fixed, but you can see the anger in his dark, beady eyes.

“This is unacceptable. First you give me a slave that is barely capable. Now you attempt to give me a slave that is so poorly trained, so insubordinate, so
unafraid,
that she would take her master’s gun from him and kill herself in front of all of us.”

“Wait,” Butch says, “the bitch just lost--”

“Enough!” the Boss raises his hand and gives Butch a scowl that shuts him up. “What if we had taken this girl? What kind of threat would she pose to us? To our clients?”

“The girl was crazy, but she would have made a good slave. Luc probably just broke her a little too much, made her want to die.”

The Boss looks at Butch like he’s lookin’ at a child.

“Slaves do not kill themselves because they want to die,” says the Boss, gesturing to the bloody corpse in the middle of the group. “They kill themselves because they want to live, yet cannot.”

Butch takes a few steps towards the boss, his hands up.

“Ok. This is a fuck-up. I’m big enough to admit it. We’ve had a few problems. Now, you raised the demands on us, gave us less time…” The Boss frowns at Butch. He looks like he’s about to shit his pants. “That’s fair,” Butch says, bein’ a pussy. “That’s ok. But we just need a bit of fucking patience to work out the kinks. We’re nearly there. We can increase production. We’ll have things running smoothly now.”

“You’ve had enough ‘fucking patience!’” shouts the Boss, through gritted teeth. “This entire deal was your last fucking chance! There will be no more!”

“We’ll pay all this off ten times over. More bitches, drugs, money, smuggle runs, you know we’re good for it.”

“I said enough.”

“We just need an extra trainer, and then we can keep up with demand. You know we can get you the finest slaves this side of the border. We’ve done it before.”

“Enough!” The Boss screams, and I see the muscle’s hand go close to his pistol again, then Randy’s hand goes to his. The two of them ain’t lookin’ at Butch, or the Boss – they only have eyes for each other.

The Boss takes a few steps towards Butch, his expensive shoes crackling on the dirt, until he’s standin’ just a couple feet away from him, lookin’ him right in the eyes. “Neither the Cartel, nor any other organization, will deal with you ever again. No slaves. No drugs. Nothing. Not even if you’re giving it away. You are amateurs. Unfit for purpose. Ride your bikes. Drink your beer. But the Lucifer’s Legion Motorcycle Club name will never again be associated with business. I promise you this. If the Cartel ever hears of LLMC again, in the sex trade, or any other illegal trade, we will not just stop you, we will destroy you. Consider yourselves blacklisted. Cursed. Your little bike club is finished.”

The Boss then slowly puts on his sunglasses, turns around and gets back into the car, along with the muscle, who is still eyeing Randy like he wants to fill him with the contents of his pistol clip.

The car screams into action, skidding a 180 on the lot, then shoots out into the road, leaving the three of us staring at it.

“You motherfucker!”

I turn and see Randy’s face bearin’ down on me. Before I can react he lands a hit, square on my jaw. The type that’s so quick you can barely feel it ‘til a few seconds later, when it’ll hurt like fuckin’ hell. Randy throws me to the ground and starts throwin’ punches like he’s in the ring. Butch yells something and starts runnin’ over.

I get my shit together, and manage to throw Randy off to the side. Before I can land a hard fuckin’ slam in return Butch is between us.

“Stop it you fucking assholes! This is the goddamn reason we’re in this shit in the first place!”

Randy gets up, still rarin’ for a fight. He points a finger at me. “
This
fucker is the reason we’re in this shit! Ain’t it obvious? Him and the bitch probably planned it all to fuck over the LLMC!”

Randy sounds fuckin’ crazy, but the way Butch turns to me, waitin’ for what I’m about to say, makes me realize he ain’t too far from believin’ that shit himself.

“Fuck you, Randy. The bitch took your knife first day she was here. You plan that with her, too?”

Randy’s steaming, walkin’ around in circles and thumbin’ his nose like he’s staying hot for round two. “Bullshit. What the fuck was all that
kissing?
” He looks at Butch. “What the fuck were they doin’ out there for days? Gettin’ married? That bitch got inside his
mind.
He’s a disloyal, lying son of a bitch. We should get rid of the fucker right here.
”

“Disloyal? You tried to kill Angel just to screw me over! Lilith’s the one who fuckin’ got her back! You oughta be in fuckin’ preschool Randy, not trainin’. You’re good for shit!”

“Calm the fuck down! Both of you!” Butch shouts, gettin’ both our attention. “As far as I’m fuckin’ concerned, you’ve both got shit for brains, and I oughta fucking fix it so
both
of you never see the inside of a bike club again. Randy, you brought that bitch in the first place. That’s on you. I mean, look at her,” Butch gestures towards the corpse of Lilith, and I feel that black hole in my chest again. “Should have known she would have been trouble the second you saw her. Fucking Satan tattoos all over. This ain’t no bitch to make a slave out of. Should have never brought her here. You’ve been acting like an amateur from the start.”

Randy makes to speak but Butch raises a hand to shut him up, then looks at me.

“And Luc, you should have left her dead in the desert. And she wasn’t trained either. What the fuck got into you? Maybe you’re not cut out for this anymore.”

“I’m still the only--”

“Shut it. I don’t wanna hear a fucking word from either of you. Right now we got a dead bitch on the lot, a nearly dead bitch at my house, and I’ve got a shitload of thinking to do.”

“So what do we do?” Randy asks, still glarin’ at me, like he wants me to know it ain’t over.

“Luc, take this dead bitch and get her off the lot. I want her out of sight. I doubt anyone is looking for this piece of trash, but with the amount of shit coming our way you best not fuck this up. Randy, go inside, get a beer, get your shit together, and when your head is fucking clear I want you to go deal with the other bitch at my house.”

I try not to give anything away when I hear him say that.
Deal with.
Doesn’t take a fuckin’ scientist to know what Butch means. And even if he doesn’t mean that, Randy’s got a hard-on for revenge now, and Butch just gave him a free fuckin’ wild card to do what he wants with Angel. The bitch I came back for. The bitch that nearly broke me out of the game. The bitch that has my head twisted in fuckin’ knots.

Randy smirks at me before turnin’ and leavin’ – he knows he’s got me by the balls.

Butch watches me like he’s some fuckin’ disapproving father, as I go over to Lilith’s body.

“What? You afraid I’m gonna fuck her?” I say. Butch starts to say somethin’, then changes his mind and walks away. I’m fuckin’ glad he does. I don’t want him to see me. I’m fuckin’ breakin’ up inside, like I’ve been beat to shit. But it ain’t Randy’s punches that are hurtin’ me.

Butch doesn’t know Lilith was responsible for blowing up the van, for the explosion that killed Meat, or for the fire that burned down the clubhouse. If he knew he probably wouldn’t have let me bring her back. Still, if he can’t figure that much out on his own, I ain’t gonna make this shit worse for myself. She’s dead, and it doesn’t matter.

I crouch over her body and look at her. She’s a fuckin’ mess, lyin’ in a pool of blood. I can feel my hands shakin’. I’ve seen plenty of bitches dead. Hell, I’ve even killed a couple. The world is full of them, ain’t nobody gonna miss a couple. But Lilith…

It freaks me out, seein’ her dead. The bitch was always movin’, always fightin. Even in Amber, there was some spark. She’s been the devil on my shoulder since she showed up, saying those words.

I see you. I know you. I am you. Soul of my soul.

Words that seemed to gain more fuckin’ meanin’ every day that we spent together. Words that began to feel like they should be etched into my fuckin’ skin. If Angel was the bitch that nearly pulled me out of all this shit, towards some fuckin’ soft-ass life, then Lilith’s the one who nearly had me going deeper into it. A trainer herself. On the fuckin’ run. A fighter. A girl with too much shit in her past to be afraid of anything.

Shit. I’m losin’ my fuckin’ mind. I’m a fuckin’ trainer, but it seems like lately I’ve been more into the bitch savin’ business. I grab my gun out of her hand and stuff it into my belt, then I put my arms underneath her – gentler and more carefully than I ever put hands on her when she was alive. I carry her a little out of the way, so that she can’t be seen from the street, and lay her down. Then I grab a blanket from one of the bikes and spread it on the ground beside her. Butch is standin’ some way off on the other side of the lot, but he’s too fuckin’ lost in his thoughts to look over.

I pick Lilith up again, and lay her on the cloth. Then I just look at her. I feel my body prickle and heat up in the places she would kiss me, lick me, bite me. I remember her thighs squeezing my waist as she straddled me on my bike. I remember her forceful kisses when she tied me up. I remember puttin’ a gun to her head as she put her lips around my cock. I remember the way she never stopped fightin’ me, even when I had her pressed up against a wall, tied up, takin’ everything I wanted from her sweet ass…

Fuck this soft shit. It’s just another dead bitch. Another skanky street bitch with a few tats and good pussy. Why the fuck am I losin’ my mind over this shit?

I roll her up the blanket, and then tie it around her with some ropes. There. It’s fuckin’ done. I’ll never see her face again.

Except now all I’m thinkin’ about is Angel, beat to hell and back – but she’s still alive. Not for long though, with Randy about to ‘deal’ with her. From somewhere in the tangled fuckin’ mess of my thoughts comes an idea that I try to shake off but can’t, and from the all the fuckin’ emotions heavin’ in my gut, the urge to just go through with it starts pullin’ at me like a fuckin’ hungry dog. Before I can fuckin’ smack some sense into myself, I’m already walkin’ over the lot towards Butch.

“Boss?”

He looks up, his face wrinkled and ugly from the pressure. I jerk my thumb back towards the body rolled in a blanket.

“Gonna need the car to bring this bitch anywhere.”

I know the car’s not here.

Butch looks over my shoulder at the body, then back at me, and nods. “Car’s not here. It’s back at my house. Put the bitch in the basement then go get it.”

Butch tosses me the keys, and I nod like a good little fuckin’ soldier.

Lilith’s body feels light as I take her inside the burnt-out clubhouse. They’re already startin’ to fix things up, but anybody who’d work on the clubhouse isn’t somebody who’d run snitchin’ if they saw a body.  I take her down into the basement, and try not to trip in the dark. Somehow, I find my way through the darkness to the bed on the far side, and I hope there’s nothin’ on it as I lay the bitch down. I stand up, and I’m about to go, back towards the small gleam of light that peaks from the basement door, when I feel my body turnin’ around, almost like there’s some fuckin’ presence in the room with me, urging me back.

I can’t see a thing, but the next thing I know I’m pullin’ away the top of the rag, where Lilith’s head is. I can’t even see, but I manage it somehow. I run my fingers down her face, feelin’ the cold skin, the nose that I know too fuckin’ well after days in the desert, and those lips, parted a little like they’re waitin’ for me to kiss them. Something pulls me towards them, like my body’s not my own anymore, like I’m fuckin’ floatin’ underwater and there’s a current. I don’t fuckin’ kiss. I hear a voice, maybe mine, say:
‘You do for me.’
My lips brush hers, they’re still warm, but the lashin’, sharp tongue isn’t there.

Fuck. I pull myself away like I just woke up from a bad fuckin’ dream, and stick the blanket over the bitch’s face before someone catches me actin’ like a fuckin’ freak. I tie it up real fuckin’ good this time. If anyone would come back from the dead, it’d be this bitch. Then I’m outta there, the plan forming in my head like a fuckin’ road map outta this shit.