Chapter One
No more fuckin’ around.
I’m revving my bike like a fuckin’ madman into a pitch-black night away from the LLMC, away from my own fuckin’ brothers, away from a fuckin’ Mexican cartel that would put two holes in the back of my fuckin’ head if they saw the crazy bitch sitting behind me.
It’s all gone to shit.
My heart’s pumping like I’m on fuckin’ steroids, and my head is thumping harder than the engine between my legs. I feel like howlin’ at the fuckin’ moon.
I’m angry at Randy for putting the whole club at risk just to fuck me over. I’m angry at Butch for givin’ me a week to train a bitch - when I should have had months - then giving me shit when it goes to hell. I’m angry with myself for getting soft. For not killin’ Lilith when I had the chance, and for screwing around so long with Angel’s sweet fuckin’ pussy when I had a job to do. It’s boiling inside of me like a fuckin’ volcano, and I’m just about ready to let it all out.
The bitch’s fingers dig deep into my ribs, and I realize I’m doing over a hundred. It must be Amber; Lilith’s too fucking crazy to get scared of a fast ride. I push the bike harder and speed up.
No more fuckin’ around.
The last thing I want or need is to be strapped with this crazy bitch, but I couldn’t bring myself to kill her - and I’m sure as hell not going to let LLMC do it for me. She’s a psycho, that much I know. Split down the fuckin’ middle. Two people. Lilith and Amber. One a satanic pyromaniac that set her house on fire with her parents inside. The other just a docile little bitch getting carried along for the ride.
She could be useful though. Amber knows how to fuck. I still get hard just thinking about her wet mouth around my cock, out there in the desert where I should’ve killed her. And Lilith; well she can take a beating - and she can give one too. If I can train the bitch, then maybe she can train others for me to sell. Maybe get her in to the LLMC, get Butch to give her a cut. It would be a lot fuckin’ easier if it wasn’t just me training, and Pretty Randy couldn’t train a fuckin’ dog to lick its balls. I’m the only guy insane enough to keep this bitch, anyway.
Got to break her first, though. Teach her who’s the boss. She’s psycho. Tough. Unafraid.
Then again, so am I.
It’s the middle of the fuckin’ night when we reach the abandoned warehouse in Ocotillo, on the outskirts of San Diego. It’s a shitty little one-stop town with only about ten poor bastards livin’ there, and no fuckin’ reason to stay. Perfect for holing up with a bitch that’s been all over the fuckin’ news for burnin’ down her own fuckin’ parents’ home. Me; I’d rather be in the city, or anywhere with a shitty bar. Somewhere I can get hammered and get in a fight with someone I ain’t met before.
“Get off,” I say, after I roll the bike up to the big entrance. “Open the fuckin’ doors.” She hesitates, but I’m in no mood to fuck around, and she can hear it my voice. She opens the door, and I ride the bike inside.
The place is a shitheap. Used to be a factory, but apart from some dusty old fuckin’ machines the only thing it’s good for now is pissin’ in and graffiti. I kick out some rags from the pile of rope and poles in the corner. “Get some fuckin’ sleep. You’re getting trained tomorrow.’
The bitch just stands there in her tiny-ass jean shorts and tight t-shirt, lookin’ at me.
“You hear me?”
Then the bitch makes a big mistake. She smiles and says, “What makes you think you can train me?”
It’s Lilith. I’m not in the mood for her shit, though. I step right up to her, grab her by the fucking jaw and slam her up against the wall. “Who the fuck you think you are, bitch?”
“I see you. I know you. I am you.”
The bitch is still smiling, licking her lips as she says the words like they’re fuckin’ delicious. I slam her head against the wall and bring my
No more fuckin’ around.
I’m revving my bike like a fuckin’ madman into a pitch-black night away from the LLMC, away from my own fuckin’ brothers, away from a fuckin’ Mexican cartel that would put two holes in the back of my fuckin’ head if they saw the crazy bitch sitting behind me.
It’s all gone to shit.
My heart’s pumping like I’m on fuckin’ steroids, and my head is thumping harder than the engine between my legs. I feel like howlin’ at the fuckin’ moon.
I’m angry at Randy for putting the whole club at risk just to fuck me over. I’m angry at Butch for givin’ me a week to train a bitch - when I should have had months - then giving me shit when it goes to hell. I’m angry with myself for getting soft. For not killin’ Lilith when I had the chance, and for screwing around so long with Angel’s sweet fuckin’ pussy when I had a job to do. It’s boiling inside of me like a fuckin’ volcano, and I’m just about ready to let it all out.
The bitch’s fingers dig deep into my ribs, and I realize I’m doing over a hundred. It must be Amber; Lilith’s too fucking crazy to get scared of a fast ride. I push the bike harder and speed up.
No more fuckin’ around.
The last thing I want or need is to be strapped with this crazy bitch, but I couldn’t bring myself to kill her - and I’m sure as hell not going to let LLMC do it for me. She’s a psycho, that much I know. Split down the fuckin’ middle. Two people. Lilith and Amber. One a satanic pyromaniac that set her house on fire with her parents inside. The other just a docile little bitch getting carried along for the ride.
She could be useful though. Amber knows how to fuck. I still get hard just thinking about her wet mouth around my cock, out there in the desert where I should’ve killed her. And Lilith; well she can take a beating - and she can give one too. If I can train the bitch, then maybe she can train others for me to sell. Maybe get her in to the LLMC, get Butch to give her a cut. It would be a lot fuckin’ easier if it wasn’t just me training, and Pretty Randy couldn’t train a fuckin’ dog to lick its balls. I’m the only guy insane enough to keep this bitch, anyway.
Got to break her first, though. Teach her who’s the boss. She’s psycho. Tough. Unafraid.
Then again, so am I.
It’s the middle of the fuckin’ night when we reach the abandoned warehouse in Ocotillo, on the outskirts of San Diego. It’s a shitty little one-stop town with only about ten poor bastards livin’ there, and no fuckin’ reason to stay. Perfect for holing up with a bitch that’s been all over the fuckin’ news for burnin’ down her own fuckin’ parents’ home. Me; I’d rather be in the city, or anywhere with a shitty bar. Somewhere I can get hammered and get in a fight with someone I ain’t met before.
“Get off,” I say, after I roll the bike up to the big entrance. “Open the fuckin’ doors.” She hesitates, but I’m in no mood to fuck around, and she can hear it my voice. She opens the door, and I ride the bike inside.
The place is a shitheap. Used to be a factory, but apart from some dusty old fuckin’ machines the only thing it’s good for now is pissin’ in and graffiti. I kick out some rags from the pile of rope and poles in the corner. “Get some fuckin’ sleep. You’re getting trained tomorrow.’
The bitch just stands there in her tiny-ass jean shorts and tight t-shirt, lookin’ at me.
“You hear me?”
Then the bitch makes a big mistake. She smiles and says, “What makes you think you can train me?”
It’s Lilith. I’m not in the mood for her shit, though. I step right up to her, grab her by the fucking jaw and slam her up against the wall. “Who the fuck you think you are, bitch?”
“I see you. I know you. I am you.”
The bitch is still smiling, licking her lips as she says the words like they’re fuckin’ delicious. I slam her head against the wall and bring my
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