Crossover: Devil's Due MC and Vipers Creed MC Prequel Page 5
“Safety first, brother.” He laughs loudly as he sits back with his beer without a single care that I’m going to fuck this broad in front of him.
Undoing my jeans, I release my cock then stroke it to firm before opening the rubber and covering myself.
With two fingers, I dive into her pussy, causing her to cry out in surprise. Then, with a palm to each ass cheek, I spread her wide before I slide my cock into her pussy. She slaps the wall in front of her wildly as she presses her ass back, trying to force me in deeper. I use my hands to keep her still and slowly work my way in at my own pace.
When she tries to push again, I swat her ass, immediately blushing the skin, and she stills. Then, her ass cheeks still spread wide, I dip my right thumb into her anus just as I slide my cock all the way to the hilt inside her. With a matching rhythm, I move them both in and out of her rapidly, sending the whore over the edge.
“Fucking trapped,” I growl as I break out into a sweat. “Fucking dirty and trapped.” I pound away as she goes limp in her aftershocks.
I let out a war cry as I pump away, finally finding my release and drunkenly falling against her, pressing her into the wall.
Catching my breath, I push away and pull out, ripping the condom from my limp dick. I then tuck my junk away, feeling the bile building in my stomach.
Stomping off wordlessly, I toss the condom in the trash as I enter the bathroom and proceed to lose the contents of the day into the toilet.
Fucking trapped. Fucking filthy. Some things never change, no matter where I go.
One day, I will have to go home. One day, I will have to face hell. One day, I will be accountable for all the bad, the good, and the don’t matters. One day, it’s all going to come to a head. After all, the devil always gets his due.
~This is the end …
until the Devil calls for more~
Chapter One
~Spook~
“With the little Trixie Lamasters chick, huh, son?” The cruel clip of my father’s tone put me on edge. I take that back; he always put me on edge, every damn time I turned around. I didn’t like him knowing what I did and who I did it with.
“Following me, old man?” I asked, not letting the pissed off feeling out.
In my eighteen years on this planet, I learned the hard way to keep anything and everything I could away from my father. He had enough control as it was. Adding any fuel to his fire was a recipe for disaster.
“Pusher,” my mother warned as she came walking up. She always seemed to sense when things were about to go bad and always wanted to step in. I really wished she wouldn’t. Every time she tried to intervene, it never ended well for either of us. I figured she would have learned by now but, like always, nothing seemed to sink into her brain.
Before I could speak, my father did.
“Get the fuck out of here, you stupid bitch.”
His words used to cut me to the quick. I used to want to jump in and defend my mother. Now I was used to it. I still hated it, but her being called a name was so much better than being beaten and bloody on the ground.
I had stepped in more than once, trying to protect her. Now I learned she just needed to stop provoking the man. She needed to catch a clue before she ended up dead. All the dope in the world couldn’t bring her back from that.
“I …” my mother started, but I held up a hand, silencing her, actually pretty happy she followed through for once.
“Get it. I do,” I assured her. “But you need to go.” My tone was firm and absolute while I used my eyes to tell her to get the fuck out of here. I didn’t need this shit, especially with my father bringing up Trixie.
“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest before stomping off.
She was my father’s ol’ lady; therefore, she had some pull here, but it wasn’t much with Pusher around. From my perspective, he didn’t even like her. I wasn’t sure why he even kept her around. Surely it wasn’t for me, because he couldn’t care less about me. Over the years, he had proven that more times than I could count.
My father marched to his own drum. You were either with him or against him; there was no middle ground. I got that … until I realized the man he was.
Stepping in line with him was never on the top of my list after I found out his dealings. A man couldn’t stand by something he didn’t believe in. This, I didn’t believe in. In fact, I had been working on my father, trying to get him and this club out of his wacked-out side business. Meanwhile, he had been pushing and pushing for me to join him, to succumb and do exactly what he said.
“You know,” my father mused, “she’s a pain in the ass.” He looked directly at me. “Anyway, of course I’m having your little shit self followed.” He said it without any remorse, and he wouldn’t—ever.
I stayed quiet, waiting for it.
His face turned stony, along with his posture, his arms crossed over his chest. His greasy dark hair lay matted against his head, and his eyes were cold—always cold.
I thanked my lucky stars that I grew as quickly as I did. My height became an advantage—not having him look down on me, but across, eye-level. The life we led was about respect. It was earned. Hard fucking earned. The quicker I could stand eye-to-eye with the asshole, the faster the tables of power could be turned.
I had no emotion, no inflection. I was just as stony as him. If he taught me anything in this world, it was how to appear intimidating without even trying. I gave him back exactly what he gave me, and if I had to guess, he was actually proud of that, something he would never admit to me. It actually made my skin crawl.
“She’d make a perfect addition to our business.” The casual tone of his words made my blood boil, yet I continued to show nothing on the outside.
He could never know what Trixie meant to me. I should have known better than to have a moment of normalcy in the first place. My life would never be normal, not with my father in the picture. Even worse, I didn’t want any of my father’s dealings for my club, my brothers, my family.
No, normal wasn’t an option at the moment.
“She wouldn’t work,” I told him flatly. There was no way in hell Trixie was getting caught up in my father’s business. No fucking way. That was something I wouldn’t allow.
He smirked evilly. “And why’s that? Her pussy’s sweet, isn’t it?”
The best I had ever tasted. So damn perfect it quenched something inside of me I didn’t know I had been craving.
“Too feisty. She’ll put up too big of a fight,” I tried.
“Love the ones who fight. They’re more fun to break,” he snarled, and my blood ran cold.
Fuck. He would do it, too, just to get me in line.
I kept quiet, not wanting to give anything away. Not the fear I felt for Trixie at what my father could do to her. Not the anger I felt toward my father for getting us in this shithole of a mess to begin with. Nothing.
“I’ll tell you what, son.”
Him calling me son grated on my nerves, especially the way he said it. He always had this way of reminding me that I was part of his blood, his genes. Still, I refused to believe I was like him.
“You get your ass in line with what I want done,” he continued, “and I’ll leave little Trixie alone.”
“And if I don’t?” I thanked God that my voice came out strong. While I didn’t want to know the answer, I also didn’t want him to see her as my weakness. Never show a weakness.
He stepped forward, getting three feet from me, and licked his smarmy lips. “I get her, bring her here, play with her until she breaks, letting whoever else play with her, and maybe you could give her a go again. But she’ll be pretty torn up by then.”
My gut tightened. It took every ounce of strength I had to hold myself back, to keep myself from putting my hands around his throat and squeezing the life from his body.
I couldn’t. No, I couldn’t attack. I had tried in the past, and I had taken the hardcore
beat down from my father for it.
I needed to be better. I needed to be faster, stronger and, most of all, smarter. I needed to get him off balance, off his guard, and damn sure without his fucking gun because his draw was perfect.
All the years, all the kills, and all the threats that were definitely promises, they all made the man a ruthless son of a bitch.
He shrugged. “Then I’ll sell her off to the highest bidder, where she’ll have a lifetime of fucking, beatings, and whatever the fuck else whoever buys her wants to do to her.”
I refused to allow Trixie to be treated that way. No, never. She was my one off limits.
Unfortunately, he already knew that she got to me. If he didn’t, we wouldn’t be doing this song and dance. He wouldn’t dangle this carrot in my face to get me to comply.
“She’s nothing to me, just pussy,” I told him flippantly, trying my damnedest to make it sound real.
He chuckled deeply, taking a step closer. I squared my shoulders, not allowing him to intimidate me, meeting him head-on.
“Then I’ll just go get her tonight,” he challenged, and the determination in his eyes told me he would.
I needed to keep Trixie safe. I needed to figure out a way to kill my father. And if keeping Trixie safe meant I needed to act like I fell in line with my father, I’d do it. Appearances could be deceiving. I just hoped mine would pass.
Three Months Later…
The screams echoed throughout the warehouse. All those screams. I hated the damn screams. Even when they weren’t there, they still seemed to bounce off the walls as reminders of the hell this place caused.
Moose stood next to my father while Stiff and Boner were on either side of me. Only Boner and I were patched members, due to us turning eighteen a while back. Stiff was still a prospect. He had a few months left before he could patch, but my father wanted me to teach him the ropes. Well, I was teaching him, and the best part was, I knew that Stiff and Boner had my back no matter what. They had been my best friends in high school, and I trusted them with everything.
It had taken me three months to get everything into place. Three months of sneaking, plotting, and planning for this to happen. It would have been sooner, but my father had decided to go on an unplanned trip with Moose. He still hadn’t told the club what it was for, but I didn’t give a shit, because it had meant he was away from Trixie. It had also given me the chance to be with the club without him so I could lay the groundwork for what I planned. I needed them behind me, and thanks to my father, I’d had that time.
He’d been back for two weeks now, and in those two weeks, he had dangled Trixie in my face every chance he got. While he hadn’t gone to her that night, all those months ago, I knew it would only take one misstep from me to make him. Therefore, I toed the line as best I could. It was a hard balance, but somehow, I had pulled it off.
To Trixie, I was now a piece of shit. I couldn’t tell her the real reason for not being with her. Instead, I pretended to ignore her, going my own way, doing my own thing. It fucking crushed me to see the hurt on her face, but I couldn’t risk her.
It took her a while, but after enough cold shoulders from me, she got the hint. It was a shit move, yet she needed to stay clear of me. If she hated me, then that would give her all the more reason to stay away. My father was too fickle, and I had no doubt he would hurt her.
I played off his taunts, but this needed to be done. I needed to end this for all of us to be safe: my club, my mother, Trixie, and myself. It needed to be finished once and for all.
I reached behind my back. The first touch of the metal on my fingertips, and my heart thumped. My weapon, my gun, my appendage. Treat your gun like an extension of your body, your mind, and your fucking soul.
Today was the day.
So many things could go wrong, but I refused to let it. I refused to let my club, Vipers Creed, fall to my father’s faults.
Live by the creed, die by the creed, and stand by your brothers. Vipers Creed wasn’t about selling women to the highest bidder. It was family. It was brotherhood, honor, and respect above all. The creed of loyalty and trust, we still had that. My father, he was the one who lost. He lost it all.
I felt no honor when it came to him. I detested merely being in front of me. I hated him, loathed his every breath.
It was time. Time to end his reign, end his terror, end … him.
In quick succession, I pulled the gun from my waistband, swung my arm around, finger on the trigger, and fired three shots, straight into the asshole’s chest.
His gaze snapped to me as he clutched his chest and narrowed his eyes. “You ungrateful little shit,” he snarled, falling to the floor in a heap, as Stiff and Boner remained strong at my sides.
That was all I needed. That was brotherhood.
I should probably have felt some guilt or remorse, but I didn’t. Instead, I watched as the blood oozed out of his body, wishing he could have been a decent man. But what kind of man would I have been if I allowed him to continue to drag the club down, and take women from their lives, abuse them, sell them? I wasn’t going to find out.
“What the fuck!” Moose yelled out as he dropped to his knees, placing his hands on my father’s chest and trying to stop the blood. However, the red liquid eased through his fingers as he mumbled incoherently, and my father heaved for breath.
“Don’t help him; he’s dead,” I ordered.
Moose looked at me, shocked, like he couldn’t believe I’d had the balls to do it. He was wrong. I had the balls to do whatever it took to save my club from him.
“He’s your fuckin’ father!” Moose scolded like I was a child. But I was a child no longer, and I didn’t take kindly toward being treated like I was.
“He’s not my father. Can’t remember a time when he was. I was born Vipers. I’ll die Vipers. And, Moose, you should remember this life, this club. The creed … live by the creed, kill for the creed. He set us all on the wrong path. He has to die for the sake of the club.”
Boner and Stiff nodded, continuing to have my back.
Moose turned back to my father as I watched my father’s chest stop moving, blood still creeping along the cement floor.
All the while, the howls, the screams, the wails from the women continued, making me more sure than ever that I had done what was in everyone’s best interest.
The selfish fuck I was, in this moment, I not only made sure Trixie would forever be safe from my father’s twisted world, I also did it for my club, my brothers, our future, and for me.
I walked up to my father’s body and kicked his leg. No movement. I repeated it several times, and got nothing. That was when the sense of relief hit me hard.
This shit was finally over. We were out from under his control, and we could get the club back to the way it was before my father had come up with this disaster of a plan.
“I’ll deal with this,” Moose told me.
I was thankful. My father had been a nasty son of a bitch, and I wanted to be done with him. Done with this life and move on.
I pulled out my cell and dialed.
“Yeah?”
“It’s done,” I said then disconnected the phone.
“Deeply bury that shit and burn it. No trace, Moose,” I ordered.
Moose looked at me, shaking his head. “You the boss now?”
“Fuck, yeah.” While it wasn’t official, I could see myself at the end of the table with the gavel, putting us on the right path. A path where we stood proudly.
“I’m nominatin’ him for president,” Boner stated.
Stiff said nothing. He had no say until he was patched in and his vote counted. That was something else that would change.
“We take it to Church. You deal with that shit.” I waved my gun at my father. I wanted to shoot him again and again, but it wouldn’t do any good. He was already dead.
No one could get past dead.
Three Days Later…
&n
bsp; The air was thick in the room as I slammed the gavel down on the table. The noise was music to my ears.
“It passes. I’m now president of Vipers Creed.” This was what I’d been working for ever since my father had threatened the Vipers’ world, and then again when he had threatened to go after Trixie. I wanted this spot. I wanted to lead my brothers on a better path.
We still had a long way to go before we got out from under my father’s cloud—some members were relieved by what had happened while others still seemed a bit dazed—but there was a light beyond the denseness. The freedom to be better, stronger, and larger was in front of us. To do it right, to get back to what it was supposed to be—brotherhood, family, loyalty—everything was right there. There was no more taking shit from anyone in the club or out; we had each other’s back, and we would ride hard … even if that meant letting Trixie go forever.
“Fuck this shit,” Moose said, standing up and taking off his cut. “I don’t fuckin’ agree with this shit. You killed your father in cold blood, without a vote from the club. You’re a traitor. I will not be part of something like that.”
I rose from the table, eyes locked on his. “And what, you think what my father was doing was better? That that was the right path for this club?” I challenged.
“Better than stabbin’ him in the back!” he argued.
Valid. His point was valid. I didn’t buy the bait, though. Instead, I gave the one and only pass I ever intended to give.
“Any Vipers’ ink on your body needs to be removed. You got three months. If it’s not, we’ll be by to make sure it comes off.” I glared, eye-to-eye with him.
The man had earned his patch, but he just lost my respect. I would not waver. I would not change. I would be by in three months to burn the shit off his skin personally if need be. No one wore Vipers’ ink if they weren’t a Viper. This was his exit, and he was lucky it wasn’t in a body bag with a bullet to the head.
“Fuck this shit.” With that, he stomped out of Church, slamming the door behind him.