Reckless Fear (The Black Vipers #1) Page 2

  “Yeah, yeah I’m tight.” I squared my shoulders, pulling them back and meeting Pops’ eyes dead on. He reached behind him without taking his eyes off me and someone handed him an old rag.

  “Wipe that shit off yourself. You can’t leave covered in blood"

  “Are you taking me?” I asked, excitement making my voice rise, sounding like the sixteen year old I was.

  “Oh, I’m taking you alright. But don’t get all excited. This doesn't mean you are part of the Vipers, I just don't know what the hell to do with you. Not too excited about killing a kid who’s done nothing except made some stupid threat.”

  I wiped away as much of the blood as I could, realizing how ridiculous I must look standing in my boxers, covered in blood.

  “Do you have some clothes you can wear out of here?” RC asked.

  I nodded my head, suddenly mute with exhaustion.

  “Well, go fucking get them, Tight.”

  I turned, heading back to the place I’d undressed. A smirk stretched across my face as I realized he’d called me Tight.

  I could do this. I could keep it all together, do whatever they asked me to do.

  But first off, I needed to convince them it was a better idea to keep me than to kill me.

  CHAPTER THREE

  My first taste of freedom came on an overcast day, riding on the back of Pops’ bike. A shiver crawled up my spine as a light misting covered us, washing away my old life and baptizing me into a new one…one I’d already killed for.

  I should have felt regret, guilt…something. I’d taken a man’s life for no reason. He’d wronged me in no way. But I wasn’t sorry. In fact, there’d never been another time in my life I’d felt such peace. I simply took his life to save mine. I could live with that.

  The cool air brushed past my face. I closed my eyes and smiled. I’d lived through a day of reckoning with my past and ended up playing with the Devil…or becoming him.

  Either way, things were going to change. I was going to change.

  The loud engines roared a warning to people on the crowded sidewalks as we cruised through the city.

  We’re coming. Get the fuck out of the way.

  And they did. The club didn’t have to demand respect, it took it through blood and pain.

  Searching the faces of the people we passed, I wondered how many of them had walked by me laying in the street cold and hungry. How many looked the other way when I asked for their spare change.

  Acknowledging me would’ve somehow ripped through their cloak of ignorance. The one keeping them safe from all the ugliness in the world. They understood monsters were real, but as long as they didn’t have to see them, they could go on believing dirty stuff only happened in the back alleys of big cities.

  So when they saw me, they looked away. Unable to handle the darkness in their own back yards.

  But today they looked away for a different reason. No one wanted to look upon the faces of living nightmares.

  Before I was a casualty of the unspeakable things happening around me, today I became the cause.

  I had nothing to be confident of, nothing which gave me claim to the club or their reputation. But I took my claim anyway. I was a fucking warrior, I’d made it through Hell and was still here.

  As we drove out of town toward The Black Viper’s compound, The Snake Pit, I let myself envision a life where no one dared take advantage of me again.

  I’d stepped out of the shadows and into the sights of the worst type of predators. The ones who would hang you from the rafters and play with you like your life was worth nothing more than a moment of fun for them…but there was nowhere else I would rather be.

  We rode out of the city, following county roads with little traffic. I tried to take note of signs and mile markers, in case I needed to return. Even as I did, I knew deep down I wouldn’t be going back.

  My stomach twisted as The Pit came into sight.

  The entire place was known to be surrounded with a large wall, topped with barbed wire. A metal gate, armed by club members day and night was the only passage.

  As we got closer, the road leading up to the gate looked alive with movement. People walked in and out of a large building where rows of bikes sat parked in front. A blinking sign read, The Club House. Across the street was a building that resembled a small apartment complex.

  People were all over, drinks in hand, half-dressed girls hanging off their arms. Everyone acknowledged our group, lifting their drinks and shouting their hellos as we rode past.

  Pops looked over his shoulder and smiled, “Are you sure this is the life you want, kid? Sin runs free around here.”

  A small memory fluttered in my mind.

  Her soft hands in my calloused ones, so trusting as she followed me. I tried to be brave, hoping she wouldn’t notice the trembling.

  Looking up at me through her long eyelashes, she asked me if I wanted her. She was pure, never touched the way she wanted me to touch her.

  I was dirty and used, touched in the worst ways possible.

  Tears fell from my eyes as I told her she shouldn’t be near me, I would ruin her. I begged her to go.

  Her brown eyes never left mine and I shattered under her stare. She held me, soothed me…saved me.

  She was the strong one, the brave one. It was her calm that balanced out my anxiety.

  Her olive skin, unmarred against my scars. She smiled shyly up at me. I ran a finger over her swollen lips and she turned into my touch. I was so afraid of hurting her, scared she wasn’t ready.

  “We don’t have to,” I said. She pulled me to her mouth, wrapping her body around mine and whispering, “I want to.”

  Her body fit perfectly to mine, moving just when she should. The way she touched me drove me to the brink of insanity while being the sanest things I’ve ever done.

  Fingers running down my back, grabbing at me as our hearts raced. Her warm breath teased across my lips, begging me for more.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Breathless, she said, “Please, don’t stop.”

  It was the only time I’d ever felt cared for…cared about. She needed me.

  The sound of my name on her sweet lips was more than I could handle. “My Ben,” she had said, as I pulled her to me. I couldn’t get her close enough, couldn’t stop kissing her. Every ounce of me wanting to imprint onto her how important she was.

  We whispered secrets into the darkness as we willingly gave all of ourselves to each other. I was the rebellion against her life. She was the escape from mine.

  She begged me to take her with me. Convinced we could run from her family, from my life. We could save each other.

  I promised her I would protect her. She would never have to be afraid again.

  Had I been a man, I would have taken her with me that night. But I was fifteen, scared of my own shadow and completely undeserving of her. She fell asleep with my lies in her head and heart.

  The thought of her waking up without me has haunted me worse than anything else that’s happened in my life. I knew to her, I was the asshole who lied to her, took her virginity and left without as much as a look back.

  To me, she was the sunlight and the air. The only perfect thing I’d ever been close to. Her existence was my lifeline in a world of dirty Karma.

  If The Black Vipers ended my life today, I’d die knowing there was one thing I’d done right…I’d saved her from me.

  So like every day since the second I left her, I tucked her memory back into to a safe place. Somewhere she didn't have to wake up alone and lied to. Where I was the hero she wanted me to be. A place where she was mine.

  “Sin is never free,” I whispered. “It takes payment, one way or another.”

  CHAPTER FOUR: Tight- Present day

  I woke up the way I always do from these dreams, soaked in my own sweat, gasping for air and alone. Always alone. My chest ached like I’d been running a marathon. Every muscle screamed at me like it’d been pushed to the limit.<
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  I ran my hands down my face groaning out profanities. These damn dreams were going to kill me for sure, or turn me into a raging alcoholic. I glanced at the half empty Tequila bottle sitting on my bed side table.

  “Thanks for nothing, fucker.” I bit out as I swung my feet over the side of the bed and reached for the bottle, taking a long deep pull. I balanced my elbows on my knees, hanging my head low.

  This had to be Karma or some shit. My payback for all the pain I’d brought down on other people.

  I knew I wouldn’t walk away from this life unscathed, but this? To be truthful, I expected to bleed out in a filthy back alley somewhere with only the hookers and homeless around to watch me die.

  Never imagined it would be my own guilt bringing me down. Wouldn’t it be just my fucking luck too? Live through everything this shit life has thrown at me, just to be taken down by an ugly suppressed memory that bitch slaps me every night in my sleep.

  Doc had tried to give me pills for it, Braxton and the boys tried to help me drink it away and Pops told me I was a pussy.

  None of it helpful at all.

  I guess bikers weren't the right type to help a person self-analyze.

  Personally, I’ve tried to fuck it away with whatever club hang-around would let me have my way with her. That seemed to make it worse…not that I was going to quit trying that tactic; even though I was sure women were the cause of all things confusing in life. That’s why I kept it to club girls. I was careful not to show preference to one over the other. That was a whole world of drama I wanted to avoid.

  No matter what remedy I tried, every night, the dream was always the same.

  Running.

  I never knew from what, just away from something terrifying and toward a destination I never seem to reach.

  Except for my breath rushing in and out of my burning lungs, there was no sound in these night terrors. No faces. Nothing familiar. Just me, running from a monster-even though I was scarier than anything my mind could come up with.

  My destiny had always been to walk this world alone and I’d come to terms with it. The darkness of life was my comfort zone. It’s what I searched for from the moment I woke up.

  I’d never needed any one before and I sure as Hell don’t need anyone now. I was a fucking psycho and had built a reputation supporting that shit.

  Running for help was out of character; walking into a fucking ring of fire was more my style.

  But I couldn't shake the feeling something was just out of my grasp. A gnawing burn that wouldn’t give up and it haunted me.

  The front door of the house I shared with Justin and Dane slammed hard. I reached for my gun until I heard the familiar voice.

  “Get up you sluts,” Braxton yelled as he climbed the steps to our second floor bedrooms. He was not only the VP of The Black Vipers but the only man I would think twice about before going head to head. It would be one hell of a fight and one I hoped to never have.

  “Pops wants to have church in thirty minutes.”

  Pushing myself up off the bed, I headed toward my bathroom, hoping to shower away this mood and get my fucking head on straight.

  My bedroom door flew open, and I turned toward it, proudly displaying my raging morning wood.

  “Whoa, what the Hell dude. Put your shit away.” Braxton said as he pointed to my junk, shielding his eyes with the other hand.

  I growled loudly, arching my back and showing off what I knew was an impressive hard on. “Not what Talia said last night,” teasing him about one of the club regulars who visits our VP’s private room in the clubhouse frequently.

  “I guess last night she decided she wanted a different ride. Better, smoother. Not the quick, choppy ride she’s used to. And being the gentleman I am,” I smirked at my best friend, stretching my arms out to the side and dipping my chin toward him, “I was happy to oblige.”

  He gave a disapproving look as he surveyed my room, righting a turned over chair and straddling the seat.

  ”Well aren't you Prince fucking Charming, today.”

  I took another pull from the tequila and held it out to him.

  “Today and every day, brother. Today and Every. Damn. Day.”

  He took a long drink and handed it back.

  “Yeah, well that damn thing is going to whither up and die if you keep messing with bitches like her. Or better yet, she’ll cut it right off.”

  I laughed, “I hear you.”

  Brax leaned forward, hanging his arms over the back of the chair.

  I rolled my shoulders as the mood changed. He pointed absently toward the dirty clothes and shit laying all over my room.

  “Seriously though, you alright? You’ve been a little…off lately.”

  “Fuck you, Braxton," I said as I sat my booze down hard. My words were serious but my tone respectful. He was my VP and I was nothing if not loyal to the patch. “You know there is nothing off about me, ever.” I bit the inside of my cheek, hating when he got all serious.

  Braxton was the closest thing I’d ever had to family. His parents saved me from the streets when I was sixteen and I would forever be grateful.

  Pops, his old man, was President of the club and had been fifty-fifty on keeping my punk ass or putting a bullet in my head.

  Braxton's mom, Gen, and a few of the other ladies had stepped in and took responsibility for me. They walked right into Church without even a second thought that day. I’d never seen bravery like that. Braxton and I watched in awe. Even I knew it was taboo. Women didn’t do that, at least most women. But Gen was special.

  It pissed Pops off when she stepped out of line so she only did it when she was passionate about something. And she always accepted whatever decision Pops made, even if it went against what she wanted. But everyone in the club knew, once Gen put her foot down, Pops would move Heaven and Earth to make sure she got what she wanted.

  Thank fuck she wanted me. And although he never admitted it, I knew the brother sitting in my room was a huge reason his mom stuck her neck out for me.

  It didn't take long until it was obvious I was born to be a brother. I watched and learned. Brax and I ran errands, fetched liquor bottles and took care of drunk club girls. Brax and I learned how the club ran by hiding in the shadows, listening to conversations we shouldn't and seeing shit no sixteen year old should.

  I embraced it all.

  The first part of my life had been wasted on being the victim. That person was long gone.

  When Gen was tortured and killed seven years ago by Big Frank, the President of the Dark Riders, Brax and I stepped up.

  We wanted to bleed for her, kill for her. We couldn’t bring her back but vowed to make the world a living hell for anyone who wore The Dark Riders patch.

  War began, and needing the numbers, Brax and I were patched in quickly.

  I’ve spent every day since her death wishing it had been me. It was too late to trade places, but not too late to let everyone know…if you wear a Dark Rider patch and you cross my path, you die. I don't care if you’re holding a gun to my head or having dinner with your fucking wife. Blood will spill and that will never change as long as I’m alive.

  My reputation had grown, everyone knew I had a plan. I would bring The Dark Riders down. Every one of them would pay for her death.

  She had saved me and I would avenge her. That desire was a smoldering fire inside of me just waiting for permission to flame.

  “Okay, easy killer. I didn't mean it like that.” Brax lifted his hands at me as he stood.

  He was right, I was a killer. I liked life when it came at me hard and dangerous.

  That’s how Talia liked it too, she was a good fit for me. She took everything I gave her last night and screamed for more. Thinking of what she’d let me do to her made my cock twitch.

  “Seriously, I think that dick of yours just waved at me.” He picked up a towel from the floor and threw it at me. “Cover your shit up.”

  I caught the towel midair and wrapped it arou
nd my waist. I sat back onto the edge of the bed, hanging my head down and clasping my hands tightly in front of me. I already knew he wasn’t about to let this go.

  He widened his stance, crossing his arms over his chest. “Spill it, asshole.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to talk about this.

  “Do you remember the night you popped your cherry?”

  His mouth dropped open, eyes wide. “The fuck?”

  “Just answer the damn question.”

  “Um, yea, sure…all three, no four minutes of it was wonderful. Why do you ask and thank the Gods you put a towel on before that shit spilled out of your mouth.”

  “Fucking forget it.” I growled, standing abruptly, heading for the shower.

  “You are such a moody bitch. Sit down.”

  Heat rose through my whole body and I ground my teeth together, really unhappy with myself for opening this box.

  “Sit,” he commanded with his VP voice, so I sat.

  “Now, tell me what the hell this is all about?”

  My shoulders involuntarily slumped forward, “You know about my dreams?”

  “I’m going to guess they’re back?”

  “Yup, and worse than ever.” I looked up at him.

  “Well that explains why your room smells like someone took a shit in the corner.”

  I ignored his comment. “Do you ever feel like we’re on the edge of something? Like today could be the day we lose the fight?”

  “Every day. You know there’s no guarantee we’ll see the sunrise tomorrow. We’ve lost too many people to be stupid enough to think we’re invincible. What does all this have to do with me losing my virginity?”

  I shook my head, trying to figure out what should come out of my mouth next.

  “I lost my virginity to a girl I hardly knew. One of my foster sisters went to school with her or something. She was beautiful and soft and perfect. I wouldn’t say I believe in love at first sight, but that night, I loved her with everything inside of me. My body loved her, my mind loved her and I lost my heart to her. I’ve never really given myself to anyone before then or since.”