Crank: The Devil's Highwaymen Nomads #1 Page 2

  “Then, baby, you better thank the Devil for saving you tonight,” she purred.

  Her words made me angrier. No one saved me, not ever. I saved myself. It’s the way it was. The way it had always been. I flipped her over and grabbed her hips, lifting her ass into the air. She laughed as I pushed her facedown onto the bed.

  “I like it rough. No need to go easy on me, baby.”

  “I had no intention,” I said, and slammed myself home.

  She called out, a mixture of a scream of pain and cry of pleasure as I sunk balls-deep into her tightness. I settled inside of her, relishing the sensation of her tight pussy clamped around me and wishing that I was somewhere else. Another lifetime with another woman.

  “Go on,” she urged, “it’s okay.”

  I snorted out a heavy breath and grabbed her hips before slamming into her over and over again, taking every ounce of rage inside of me out on her lean body. This was more about anger than it was about sex. More about taking my violence out on someone than reaching the pleasure at the end. She cried as I bit into her shoulder, nipping along her neck and squeezing her nipples so hard that her whole body shuddered around me in an orgasm so loud that she made a dog outside howl. I had never been a vanilla man, and my tastes had always verged on the darker side, but it had been a long time since I had been able to take what I truly needed without the fear of consequences.

  “You’re holding back,” she grunted as I thrust harder into her. “Don’t.”

  I slapped a hand across her ass so hard that I left a handprint that would be there for days, and she called out, pushing her ass backwards to meet every one of my thrusts. I slapped again before pulling out and scooping up some of her dampness to spread it along her ass. I spread her wide and she grunted and lowered her chest to the bed but left her ass high for me as I pushed myself into her tight hole, seeing stars as her tight ring clamped down on me. I felt myself swelling inside of her as I grabbed her hips and moved in her harder and harder, wanting to hear her cry. Real crying. Not cries of pleasure, but cries of pain. But all she did was grunt and call out for more.

  So I gave it to her.

  Harder and harder, my strong hands gripping her waist so tightly I’d leave bruise marks on her tiny waist for a week. She looked over her shoulder, and I saw her teeth clamped down on her lower lip so hard that a trickle of blood seeped between her white teeth and trailed down her chin, and then she fucking smiled at me. Her white teeth colored pink with fresh blood. And that was all it took to make me see stars. Hot sprays of cum splashed across her back and ass as I pulled out of her and let out a guttural war cry.

  I was panting hard as I stepped back, my knees shaking and my heart beating heavily. I dragged a hand through my short hair and looked away from her as I tried to gain some of my senses back.

  One day that would feel good. One day.

  I grabbed my jeans from the floor and stepped into them before picking up my white tee and shakily heading back toward the door. I needed a drink, right the fuck then.

  “I’ve had worse,” she called back to me, sounding pleased. “That was child’s play compared to what I’ve had, baby.”

  Bitch was fucked in the head. I opened the door and walked out of the room, slamming it closed behind me.

  I was angry at myself and the world back then. Nothing and nobody could get through to me, and that was how I liked it. I preferred to be lost in my own thoughts, trapped with my own demons.

  But the club were to become my brothers, my family. And Bull, a surrogate father, eventually. But I didn’t know that then. Back then I thought that maybe I would be lucky enough to get killed by being around them. I didn’t know their club, but I knew gangs—I’d grown up around them, I’d fought with them, and I knew they were dangerous. I’d thought the Highwaymen were the same thing, but I was wrong. Though the danger was just as real, if not more so, this was nothing at all like a gang. This was a brotherhood, and twenty years later and I’m still alive, and more of a man than I ever thought I would be, thanks to those men.

  I pulled my tee over my head, my boots stomping down the hallway and back to the party. Bodies were everywhere—hot, sweaty, bodies, both male and female. Fucking, or dancing, or both. This wasn’t just sin, this was where sin was created.

  I headed back outside to where the most people were. I was looking for Bull, or anyone familiar at that point. I needed a drink and some food, but mostly I needed peace. I didn’t realize then that I wouldn’t have peace ever again. At least not the sort of peace I thought I was seeking.

  I saw Bull on the other side of the yard and headed toward him with the flickering flames from a small fire in a metal bin lighting my way. He grinned when he saw my flushed expression, and reaching out with one hand, he took mine and shook it.

  He let out a deep laugh. “Crystal treat you right?”

  I dragged a hand through my overgrown hair and nodded. “She’s fucking crazy.”

  Bull laughed again. “As crazy as they come.” He slapped my back and started leading me toward the clubhouse. “Now that you’ve blown off some steam, I want you to meet my brothers properly.”

  I nodded and grunted an okay as we headed back inside. I was pretty sure I could hear Crystal screaming and grunting from the same room I’d just been in with her, and I scowled and followed Bull. We went deeper into the building, heading toward a room at the end of a long corridor with a man standing outside. He wasn’t wearing a cut the same as the others, and he wasn’t as large as the other men I’d met, but he had the “don’t fuck with me” look down to a T.

  “Patch,” Bull said with a sharp nod as Patch opened the door. His gaze was on me as I passed him. “Patch is a prospect for the Highwaymen. He’s going to be patching in any day now. Hence my need for a new prospect.”

  Patch nodded at me and opened the door and I continued to follow Bull through a darkly lit room, a damp smell clinging to the inside of my nose. We reached another door and Bull pulled it open with a grunt. It was heavy and thick—at least four inches, give or take. He jerked his head into the new room and I took a quick glance, seeing stairs going downwards into more darkness.

  I stopped and stared at him, a chill running down my arms. “What the fuck is this?”

  His expression was serious and dark. “Walk down the steps, Dillon.”

  I folded my arms and glared at him, every nerve on fire and twitching for a fight. “And if I don’t?”

  Bull reached into his waistband and pulled out a gun. He cocked the trigger and aimed it at me. “That ain’t an option, kid.”

  There was no smile in place this time. No joking around. Bull was deadly serious, and I had no doubts that he’d blow my brains out there and then if he wanted to. Funny thing was, I’d been searching for death for the past six months and now it was there in front of me, when I had least expected it.

  I swallowed, fear and rage igniting equally in me. But it was okay. I was more than ready for this. Had been for a long time, if the truth be known. And the truth should finally be known. If only it was known by a dead man. There was no denying my path anymore. No denying what was to come, and what had come before. My violent past was just as important as my blood-soaked future. And I embraced it with open arms.

  I stepped forward and looked down into the darkness before glancing back at Bull. I gave him a small nod of my head, an acceptance of my fate, and I stepped down into the darkness below, ready to meet my destiny.

  Finally.

  ~ 3 ~

  The echo of my old boots on the cold stone steps was nothing compared to the sound of the door being closed behind us. The creak of old hinges followed by the deep thud of steel on steel and the slide of a lock reverberated around us in the darkness.

  From somewhere below, a light shone, and I took the stairs one at a time, heading toward that light and whatever it may reveal. Bull was right behind me, the heat from his body filling the space.

  “Cool as a fucking cucumber, ain’t that right,
kid?” he said.

  I didn’t reply. Not a lot to say to that. Instead I focused on the stairs, each one seeming bigger than the last until I reached the bottom.

  “Right,” Bull said, pointing with his gun.

  I turned right, coming into another room. It was larger than I expected, and yet smaller because of the amount of men that were standing in it. Their expressions were dark—murderous, almost—and a silence hung thickly in the air, making it hard to breathe. They stood in a circle, waiting for me.

  Each one of them held onto a different weapon—some knives, some bats, some just large metal poles—and a shiver of expectation vibrated through my body. So this was it? This was how my short but bloody life was going to end? I didn’t even care why; all I cared about was that the pain in my heart, which I had been carrying around for as far back as I could remember, would finally be over.

  I paused, rolling my shoulders as I prepared myself for what was to come.

  “Keep movin’,” Bull said, giving me a small shove in the back.

  I took another step forward and then slowly turned to look at him. “So this is it, huh?”

  “Looks that way.”

  I looked over to the circle of men and then back to Bull. “You killin’ me?” I sucked in my bottom lip. “You ain’t even gonna let me fight for my life?”

  Did I want to fight for my life? Seemed only right to go out of this world the way I’d come into it. I had come into this world fighting for air, my umbilical cord wrapped around my small neck, and I’d been fighting every day since.

  Bull’s expression remained neutral, his black eyes holding my stare. He jerked his head to the right. “Move.”

  I snarled but turned and headed toward the circle of men again. Because fuck it, right? Ain’t got nothin’ in this life to live for anyway. Always knew I was going to die young; just never knew it would be in a dingy basement by a bunch of men with bats and knives. Mama always told me she saw blood in my future. Never fucking believed her though. Not until she was dead and I was covered in her blood.

  Who knew the bitch had been right though.

  The group of men parted, allowing me room to enter the circle, and I swallowed down the bile in my throat. My gaze narrowed in on another man standing in the center of the circle, looking like he was on the wrong side of sanity. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face, his veins popping in his arms. His eyes bulged in his already-bruised-to-fuck face and he glared at me like I was sent from hell and he was ready to send me back.

  “All right, kid. You want to join us, then you need to prove your loyalty to the club,” Bull said from somewhere outside of the circle. “Pick a weapon and go to town on this motherfucker. Only one of you comes out of this alive. If it’s you, then you’re one of us.”

  The circle of men cheered and stomped their feet, and I would have straight-up believed I might have been tripping out of my mind if it wasn’t for the scent of death that hung so strongly in the air that my nostrils burned.

  I searched for Bull, wanting and needing answers, but I couldn’t find him anywhere, and then it was too late. The fight had started and the crazy fucker trapped in the circle with me grabbed a knife from one of the Highwaymen’s hands and charged at me like he wanted to cut a piece of me off and fry it for his dinner.

  Stupid fucker didn’t know who he was messing with if he thought I was going down easy though.

  ~ 4 ~

  He roared as he swung the knife back and forth, slashing at the air in front of me, and I barely managed to dodge out of his way before he cut out my liver. The knife sliced across my arm, drawing blood, I winced and backed away.

  “I ain’t got no beef with you,” I said to him, but he didn’t look like he cared one way or the other. This was happening whether I liked it or not. I stared at the men around me, finding only hard, empty gazes staring back. I reached out and grabbed a baseball bat from the man closest to me, and he let go without hesitation.

  I realized quickly that the Highwaymen were holding these weapons for us to take as and when we needed them. The realization of how fucked up that was sparked in me but I pushed it away and concentrated on staying alive. Because yeah, I wanted to live. After months of searching for death, I also realized that I didn’t want it.

  The other man charged at me again and I swung the bat, hitting him in the ribs before he got close enough to slice me again. He grunted and stumbled back, and before he could right himself I swung again, hitting him in the other side. He held onto the knife, slashing at the air whenever I got too close to him and not looking the least bit afraid of me.

  I hated that the most.

  More than being forced into this circle.

  More than being fooled into thinking I could be one of these men.

  And much more than any of the shit I left back home all those months ago.

  No. This man’s look of fearlessness of me was what I hated the most.

  He dove at me again, crouching low this time so that the swing of my bat missed him, and his blade sliced into my side—deep enough to draw a shit ton of blood, but not deep enough to kill just yet. I called out as pain burned up my side and I dove back out of his way.

  When he crouched low and moved forward again I raised the bat above my head and swung down instead of sideways, hitting him on the shoulder, and heard a distinctive cracking sound as my bat, and his shoulder, split. He cried out and dove forward again, slashing aimlessly at me as I dropped my useless bat to the bloody ground and dodged backwards, sidestepping his sweeping slashes.

  I reached for the first weapon I could find, my grip slipping over the cool metal of an oddly shaped short bar with a lump in the middle, and I swung as the other man charged at me again. I hit him in the side of his head, the metal so heavy that I felt it as the heavy center crushed part of his skull. I pulled the object back out and he swayed on his feet and stared at me.

  Blood slowly started to slide out of the side of his head and he blinked. His grip loosened on the knife and he opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. My hands shook and I felt the object being taken from my hand. I turned to look and saw Wolf standing behind me. He handed me some long cord and nodded toward the man who was moments away from death.

  “Finish him,” Wolf said. “Finish him and this is over.”

  I looked down at the black cord in my hand and walked toward the other man. His eyes no longer bulged, and the veins in his arms no longer protruded. He swayed as his gaze followed me, until I was standing behind him and pushing him slowly down to his knees.

  The circle of men surrounding me waited in silence as I wrapped the cord around the other man’s neck. I got a firm grip on either side of it, and with a sharp pull I twisted the cord and pulled it tighter around his neck.

  He didn’t put up any fight, and in reality I knew that the cord was unnecessary to kill this man. He was already dying and wouldn’t last longer than two minutes anyway, yet this was their ritual. Their warning and their promise. And this was necessary in their eyes.

  As I let go of the cord and he fell forward, I let my gaze fall to Wolf and the item in his hand. It looked like a crank of some sort. Wolf smiled at me, flashing his perfect white teeth. He slipped the crank into a plastic bag before slipping away from the circle.

  The crowd parted and Bull entered. He looked at me with a serious expression and I raised my chin and squared my shoulders to him. His gaze moved over the man on the floor and the puddle of blood slowly growing underneath him.

  “He double-crossed us,” Bull said, finally giving me some sort of explanation for the fucked-upness that had just happened. “Sent two of our brothers to jail and another to ground.”

  “That was your beef, not mine,” I gritted out.

  Bull nodded. “I know. But I needed to know how far you would go to survive.”

  “This wasn’t about surviving,” I gritted out.

  Bull chuckled darkly. “No? Sure looked like survival to me.” Bull stared at
me, his dark eyes boring into mine though his stance was casual. “This life ain’t for everyone.”

  “Maybe it ain’t for me.”

  Bull gave another humorless laugh. “After what I just saw, you were made for this life, kid. It’s in your blood, no doubt. I don’t know where you came from or what your deal is, but this is it.”

  I shook my head in response and turned to walk away. The bikers behind me moved out of my way without hesitation and I strode across the room. “You’re wrong. This ain’t the place for me.”

  But I knew I was lying.

  I knew it because a dark part of me had enjoyed killing that man.

  I heard Bull’s footsteps following me. “I think this exactly the sort of place for you. A place where you can let out that rage of yours. A place where you’ll always belong, and always be wanted. A place filled with brothers that will always have your back, time and time again, no matter what.”

  I reached the stone steps and came to an abrupt stop, my boots scraping on the dusty concrete. I let out a heavy breath. All those things he was talking about, I hadn’t had any of that before: a brotherhood, a real family. I’d never belonged, and I’d never been wanted. And I sure as hell never had anyone watching my back. What would that mean for me, to have something like that?

  “We’re a family,” Bull said, his voice right behind me.

  “No, you’re a thug gang.”

  “No!” he barked out. “No, we’re brothers, a family, a club, and we protect our own. We have our own laws, our own rules, and our own ways. And I want you to be a part of that.”

  “Why?” I asked. I felt my shoulders slump as I spoke and I stared down at my bloody, shaking hands, and yet I was surprised by how clean I felt.

  A heavy hand fell to my shoulder. “Because I see a little of me in you. And I had the same raw luck when I was a your age too.”

  I turned back around to face him, staring up into his hard face with my own gritted expression.

  “And me,” came another voice from behind him.