Prodigal Son Page 9

  I figured that I had to play along if I wanted to avoid getting fucked by two guys at once. “Oh, Bug, you know that turns me on.”

  He rubbed my ass where he’d smacked it, and he reached forward to grab my tits, squeezing them as he ground his crotch into my ass from behind. Oh. Shit. He wasn’t hard yet, and the only person he’d blame that on was me. I had to figure out a way to get him hard enough to fuck me so that he wouldn’t take out his frustration on my face. I also had to hope that I could somehow get wet enough that he wouldn’t be mad that he couldn’t turn me on.

  I wiggled my ass. “I put this dress on just so you could take it off, Bug.”

  “Do you want to suck J.C.’s dick, you dirty fuckin’ whore?” I could feel him starting to get hard.

  “The only dick I’m gonna suck is yours, Bug. You’re the only one I want.” I stood up and turned around, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out to stroke his beginning of an erection through his jeans. “Why don’t you get rid of J.C. so you can fuck me just the way I like it.”

  I could see the uncertainty in Bug’s face. He started to unbuckle his belt.

  “Stand up, you slut,” he commanded, as he unbuttoned his jeans.

  I stood up, unsure what he wanted.

  “Take off that hooker dress.”

  Even though I’d slept with J.C. a few times over the years, I really didn’t want to be standing naked in front of him, but the tone in Bug’s voice sounded like he meant business and would tolerate no refusal.

  I decided to make it as sexy as I could, hoping that, at the very least, I could get this over with quickly. “I’ve been wanting to take this dress off for you ever since I put in on.”

  “Enough talking. Do what I told you.” Bug unzipped his jeans and shifted them down long enough to pull his cock out. He was hard enough that I thought that maybe I could end this awful situation quickly.

  I stood up and pulled my dress over my head, bending forward to show extra cleavage as I set the dress on the bed. I hoped like hell that a blow job was gonna get me out of this fucking mess as I knelt on the floor in front of Bug. I was hopeful that the prospect of being blown in front of an audience would get it over with.

  “Oh my, look at that huge, hard dick,” I said, nauseated by the adoring tone of my voice. I didn’t want to do it, but I was afraid that Bug was really going to hurt me if I didn’t distract him. “Can I please put it in my mouth?”

  Bug grabbed my hair and roughly pulled my face to his crotch. “You’re gonna suck my dick, and you’re gonna swallow it. If you don’t do it good enough, you’re gonna suck his dick, too, you fuckin’ slut.”

  He forced himself into my mouth, pushing to the back of my throat right away. I’d learned a few tricks about sexy, awesome blow jobs, but this was nothing like that. He fucked my mouth, pure and simple, his rage and frustration taken out with every thrust down my throat. I gagged, and he didn’t stop until he finally shot his load into my mouth, making the same ridiculous expression that he always did.

  He pulled out, zipped up and walked toward the door, leaving me on my knees, jaw aching from his rough motions. “Put your fuckin’ clothes back on, you whore. I want you back at the bar in five minutes.”

  He walked out of the room with J.C., not even bothering to close the door.

  I wanted to slam the door, but I didn’t want to give Bug a reason to come back inside. I stood up, closed and locked the flimsy door, knowing that it wouldn’t keep anyone out if they wanted in badly enough. I grabbed my purse and fished through it until I found my makeup bag. I fished out my travel toothbrush and toothpaste, and I headed for the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and tongue twice, hoping to get rid of the taste and the memory of Bug inside my mouth.

  Looking in the mirror, I saw that my eye makeup was smeared a little, probably because my eyes had watered when Bug had viciously forced himself into my mouth over and over. I cleaned myself up and headed back out to get my dress from the bed. Dressed again, I sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to figure out what I should do.

  I wanted to walk out the door of the club and never return. I wanted to slap Bug, kick him in the balls and never see his face again. I wanted to tell everyone in the room to fuck off. I wanted to tell every one of the girls that clung to the pathetic, out of shape fuckers who believed that their cuts made them invincible that they could do so much better.

  But I was scared. Scared of being alone, afraid that Bug would follow me and kill me, afraid that I wouldn’t be able to make it on my own, that I’d never amount to anything and have to come crawling back to Bug. I felt weak and powerless, and I was ashamed of myself, but I walked back outside and I took my seat at the bar, just like Bug had told me to. Maybe someday I’d find the strength to do something about my fucked up life, but right then, I just didn’t have the energy.

  Chapter 15

  Luke

  Monday, May 6, 2013

  I was completely hooked.

  We rounded a sharp turn as we ascended up the final rise before we would arrive in Cripple Creek. As I slowly accelerated out of the turn, I felt the power of the engine, growling, masculine, and just fucking awesome.

  Joker looked back at me to make sure I was okay. “Ready to give it some gas?” he hollered over the rumble of the three bikes.

  “Let it rip,” I yelled back.

  The roar of the bikes became deafening, and as we picked up speed, the tourists standing outside the little cog railway station all turned to look at us as we drove by. Feeling the warm sun and the wind on my face, knowing that people were stopping to watch us … it made me feel powerful in a way I never had before. I’d pushed numbers around on spreadsheets, and I’d made a lot of money for my company, but riding a bike was more primal, kind of an assurance that I was really alive in a way I never knew was possible.

  By the time we parked in front of one of the little wild west-style casinos that lined the main street, I couldn’t get the grin off my face.

  “Oh, my God. That was fucking awesome!” My hands and arms shook a little as I took my helmet off. “Wow, my arms are shaking.”

  Jimmy laughed. “Yeah. That goes away as you get used to riding. Two hours was pretty long for your first ride, but you handled it like a champ. You’re a chip off the old block,” he said, tucking his helmet under his arm. “I need a beer.”

  “I can get you beer, whiskey, company — anything you want,” Joker said, lighting a cigarette while he was still astride his bike. “The Midnight Rose over there’s the place. You walk in there with a Savage Sons cut, and you‘ll have the run of the place.”

  I ran my hand through my hair, not even caring that it was probably a mess from the helmet and the wind. “Now that you mention it, I am a little thirsty. A beer sounds like heaven.”

  “Can’t smoke inside,” Joker said, shaking his head as if the fact disgusted him. “Mind if I finish?”

  Jimmy laughed and turned his face up to the sun. “We got all the time in the world. No schedule to keep and fuel in the tank. What more could you want?”

  I looked around me, at the tourists on the street, the casino windows that revealed people sitting at slot machines, and at the two men in front of me — looking like they didn’t have a care in the world. I knew that Joker had some money problems, and I was sure that Jimmy had everyday bullshit that he had to deal with, too — who doesn’t? I realized that both men shared the ability to let their problems go for a few hours and enjoy the moment. While they might not exactly be role models in every aspect, I admired their willingness to embrace the present — soak up the sun, the mountains, and the raw pleasure of the wind in your hair. Maybe I could learn something from the Savage Sons.

  Joker threw his cigarette butt on the ground and stepped on it as he stood up. “Let’s go see what kind of trouble we can get into.” He looked over at me. “Any reason you have to be back in Denver tonight? Just in case?”

  “No reason in the world.”

  I remembe
red that I hadn’t checked my phone since I’d gotten off the bike. That morning, I’d awakened and checked to see if Krystal had texted me, but no texts had arrived while I’d been asleep.

  You ok? I didn’t hear from you, & I’m worried.

  Even after I’d had breakfast and showered, she still hadn’t answered. I’d thought about calling her, but I didn’t want to make things worse if she’d gone home with Bug. I didn’t even know if they lived together, for goodness’ sake. Even though I knew it was stupid to be so worried about a girl who didn’t even think enough of herself to pick a halfway decent guy, I couldn’t help it.

  I pulled the phone from my pocket and was relieved to see two texts from Krystal.

  I’m fine. Got home late and fell asleep right away. Sorry I forgot to txt you.

  Sorry about the f-ed up mess last night. I need to figure some things out. It was good to see you.

  I thought for a second before I answered.

  Glad U R ok. Call me if you need anything.

  I hoped she’d take me up on it. I hated the thought of that little prick hurting her, but there really wasn’t much I could do about it.

  “I might as well have a beer,” I said out loud.

  “Are you talking to yourself?” Joker asked, looking back at me from halfway across the street.

  “Yeah. I do it all the time,” I answered with a grin. “I can’t help it.”

  “Your mother does the same thing. Drives me crazy, especially when she tells me it’s the only way she can have an intelligent conversation.”

  I laughed and thought about how strange it was that I had something in common with Sable even though we’d never met before yesterday. Funny thing, genetics.

  Jimmy held the door open to the casino and I followed Joker inside, nearly tripping because the dark was such a contrast to the bright sunshine outside.

  “Goddamn, I love a dark bar in the middle of the day. All those poor fuckers working for a living today don’t know what they’re missing,” Jimmy laughed as he followed us inside.

  We made our way through a sea of slot machines and video poker players and found the bar.

  “Gypsy here?” Joker asked the bartender.

  He looked us over as if he was deciding how to answer the question … or perhaps whether to answer it at all. He nodded, set down the glass he was polishing, and picked up a phone from behind the bar. He replaced the handset. “She’ll be right down. Get you a drink, gentlemen?”

  “Three Crown Royals and three Coors Light longnecks,” Joker answered, not bothering to consult us.

  Three generous shots and three cold beers appeared on the bar, and just after we’d slammed the whiskey, a woman dressed in what looked like old-fashioned saloon garb approached us.

  She walked up to Joker, threw both arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth. I’d expected the kiss to be a brief one, but it didn’t end until Jimmy cleared his throat and interrupted it.

  “Cool it, or get a fuckin’ room, you two,” he said. “Good to see you, Gypsy.”

  “You too, Jimmy,” she said, slipping her arm around Joker’s back. She looked me up and down. “And who do we have here?” she asked, her voice betraying her interest in me.

  “Baby, this here’s my son, Luke,”

  “Well, my goodness, I didn’t know you had a son,” Gypsy said, extending her hand.

  “Neither did I,” Joker laughed as Gypsy and I shook hands.

  “Well, if there’s anything you need — anything at all — while you’re here, you just let me know, and I’ll take the very best care of you, Luke.”

  Gypsy’s forte was not subtlety.

  She led us upstairs to a private room in a hall of closed doors. It looked like the upstairs of an old-time brothel, and I suspect that was, in fact, what I was really looking at. A small bar covered the back wall, and the windows were shuttered from the inside, letting in some natural light from the top, but obscuring the view inside for any curious folks outside on the street. There were several gaming tables in the room, and two poker games were underway. Gypsy led us to a table.

  “Dutch is the bartender, and he’s gonna take real good care of y’all. Anything you want, he’ll get it for you. If you want to play some poker, just let me know and I’ll get it set up.” She looked toward the door and waved over a young lady standing in the doorway. “This here’s Clara, and she’ll bring you some lunch and anything else your little hearts desire.” She took a seat on Joker’s lap. “And I’m all yours for as long as you require me, boys.”

  I was pretty sure I was in Heaven.

  ***

  Over the course of the afternoon, I had more drinks than I probably should have, got my ass handed to me in a game of Hold ‘Em, and successfully fended off Clara’s attentions. She seemed really interested in me, but since I figured that her favors came with an hourly charge, I wasn’t terribly flattered. After the poker game was over, Joker asked Gypsy to have some lunch sent up to us, and he sent her away for a bit so that he could talk to us.

  “What’s on your mind?” Jimmy asked once we had some privacy.

  “Well, I want to bounce some ideas off you both.”

  I was perplexed, unsure why he’d want my opinion on anything, especially since it seemed like the only things Joker really cared about were the MC (which I knew little about,) bikes (which I knew even less about,) and having a good time (which I heartily endorsed.)

  “Jimmy, we have to do something about the Sons. We have to figure out a way to replace the income that we lost when we gave up the crank business. I’m not gonna lose my house, and I don’t want to get a job and have to work for a fucking living like every other poor slob.”

  Jimmy looked surprised. “Joker, no offense, man, but we should not be talking about this in front of Luke. I know he’s your kid, but he ain’t a Savage Son.”

  “I can give you guys some privacy,” I said, starting to stand up.

  Joker put his hand on my shoulder. “You don’t need to go anywhere. Jimmy, Luke’s my son, and even though that don’t mean much, it means that if he wants to be a part of the MC, I’ll vouch for him.”

  I didn’t know what to say. It was my first day on a bike, and even though I’d enjoyed the ride, it had never occurred to me to think about becoming a Savage Son.

  Jimmy looked pissed. “That ain’t the way things work, Joker. We can’t start making exceptions just ‘cause some kid shows up and says he’s related to you. You don’t even know if he’s telling the truth. He could be a fed, planted to get intel about the Sons, brother. We don’t discuss club business in front of outsiders.”

  “Luke is no outsider. He may have just gotten here, but I aim to make up for lost time. I founded this MC, and I make the rules. Now, can we get back to the subject? How are we gonna make up the money we’ve lost?”

  Jimmy shook his head and looked like he wanted to argue, but decided against it. “Joker, I don’t know, man. I got nothing. We know that the feds are probably watching us, and that don’t leave a whole lot of room for starting up a new operation. I’d thought about taking a page from the casinos and opening up our back room for poker games, but I’m afraid it’ll draw too much attention, and I don’t know how much money it’ll actually bring in.”

  Joker lit another cigarette — the rules that governed the rest of the casino obviously didn’t apply in the room we occupied. “I got some girls ready to go back to work, but that’s only gonna make up a fraction of what we’re missing.” He ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back in his chair. “I need a new idea. Something that people want that we can give ‘em and charge lots of money for.”

  A thought occurred to me. I remembered the one time that I’d actually had more cash than I knew what to do with, and I knew right away that the Sons could make my idea work for them.

  “I know this really isn’t my business, but have you thought about weed?”

  Jimmy shook his head. “Nah, man. The feds would shut us down in a minu
te. And there’s not enough money in weed.”

  I sat up straighter as the idea worked itself out in my head. “Hear me out. The feds aren’t going to shut you down if you’re not doing anything illegal. You live in Colorado. There’s a dispensary on every corner, selling more weed than you can imagine — and it’s all perfectly legal.”

  Joker wasn’t buying it. “That’s part of the problem, Luke. That’s one of the reasons there’s no money in weed anymore. It’s too easy to get, and the shit they’re selling now is so fucking potent, one hit, and you’re stoned.”

  “So you open a dispensary and you sell the best weed in town — sticky, nasty buds that will blow your mind. You’ll have people lined up around the block to get your shit because it’s so good.”

  “Where the fuck do you get weed like that? And open a dispensary? There’s no way in hell they’d give us a license for that.” Jimmy waved his hand as if he wanted to dismiss the whole topic.

  I held up a finger. “One, you grow it, and two, all you need is an investor, someone who’s never been in trouble with the law who’s willing to be the license-holder.”

  Joker looked at me like I was speaking another language. “Luke, we’re outlaw bikers. We don’t have fucking investors, man.”

  “You might be surprised.”

  “And we don’t know anything about growing weed,” Jimmy added.

  “I do,” I said with a smile. “When I was at ASU, my friends and I grew the best weed on campus. We started in our dorm room, believe it or not. We set up grow lights in our closet and supplied everyone on our floor. When we moved off campus, we rented a house with a basement and converted the whole downstairs to a pot farm. We had more money than we knew what to do with.”

  “But can’t the cops tell when you’re growing?” Joker asked. “I heard that they can monitor your electric bill and shit.”

  “Yeah, in some cases they can catch people who are too stupid to cover their tracks, but here’s the thing. You can grow legally in Colorado now. If you’re selling to a dispensary, it’s legit.”