Play Dirty: Devil's Mustangs MC

I scribble a note on a piece of paper and leave it at his side near where the blood is starting to pool. It’s instructions to call me when he hears from the Coyotes again. I end it with a sly and sarcastic, “You can thank me when I pick up the cash on Saturday.”


I then walk towards the door where the two men are joking around. I sigh to myself over what a fool Chris had been. These two couldn’t protect their own shit, let alone someone working as a third party motorcycle club drug dealer. It takes them a long, awful moment before they finally turn their attention from whatever card game they’re playing to the man standing in the doorway covered in flecks of fresh blood.

When they see me, they both leap to their feet in defense. Both slowly walk towards me, unsure how to approach or what they should do next. The taller one has a good four inches on me, but I manage to strike first, punching him in the jaw and sending him landing to the ground just like his boss.

The second one whimpers and backs off as I crack my knuckles from the first hit. I look at him as I wipe the blood of both men off of my hand with the back of my black shirt. He’s got to be no older than twenty-one. I shake my head in disbelief before I give him my message, “You tell your boss he best call me when he wakes up. And if any Coyotes come round here looking for him while he’s out, you call me, too.”

The boy nods like the top of a bobblehead. His hand is shaking as he stands with his arms up near his face. He watches me go with wide, wondering eyes. I spared him the pain his buddies are going to face when they manage to wake up.

I take a few steps out the door before realizing something. I walk back to where the body of the car repair shop owner is lying, still unconscious and grab the gun. I empty the cartridge, leaving just one bullet and then I walk back into the break room. The young man is leaning over his friend, checking for signs of life. When he sees me with the gun, he crab walks backwards on his hands, finding a chair to hold onto as he whimpers.

“If you’re gonna protect someone, you best not act like that.” I place the gun towards him and kick it away with my feet. “That’s got one bullet. If the Coyotes act up, you have my permission to use it. Look ‘em in the eye, though. You don’t wanna make it too messy in the cleanup.”

I walk quickly back towards my bike, hop on, and hit the pavement towards home. This time, I’m speeding faster through the residential streets, not even bothering with the highway. The Mustangs are gonna want to know what happened to Hunter. Not only that, they’re gonna wanna make plans.





Chapter 8: Catchable


MICHELLE

“He did what?!” The look on Erin’s face is one of complete disbelief. She certainly wasn’t a prude, but when I told her what Cal Ross did to me in my own classroom, even she couldn’t contain herself. “And you let him do that? I mean, this wasn’t forced was it? Did he hurt you?”

I run to her side, reassuring her I’m okay. “No, no. It wasn’t forced at all. I mean, we were both flirting and one thing led to another. I didn’t ask him to do it, but I didn’t stop him either. And by the time he was going down on me, I was all in.”

“Jesus Christ, Michelle. I mean, I know we’ve partied enough before, but Jesus Christ! I never knew you were so…” she trails off, her eyes wide, searching. I'm actually a little impressed with myself: I’ve managed to shock the unshockable Erin.

But I get where she’s coming from. I haven’t had a guy in my life in a year, not since Denny and I broke up. And even then, he broke up with me because he thought I was too vanilla. He was trying new flavors even when we were talking about getting engaged. But when the big moment came, it was the exact opposite of what I thought it would be. Instead of a ring, I got a return of my house key and a goodbye forever.

Since that day, I’ve been single in bed. I haven’t even been into pleasuring myself. It just wasn’t my thing. After a while, I really didn’t miss it. I even stopped looking for that guy who would turn this all around. Who needed to deal with the drama, the commitment, the messiness of it all? I learned quickly that the only person I could trust and depend on to make me happy was myself.

I look down at the paper he gave me. I haven’t set it down since. It’s just been crumpled in my hand, turned over and over again as if something new would write itself on it. I turn back towards Erin, “Here’s the thing – he wants me to meet with him tonight.”

“You’re kidding me!” She leaps to her feet excitedly. Obviously being an heiress has made her life so boring that me getting a little action is completely thrilling. “What are you gonna wear? Or, more importantly, what are you not gonna wear?”

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