Page 83 of StoryTeller's Tale

“For ST or Maria?”

“Chaz.” She snort-laughs, then winks. “Both, if I’m lucky.”

I walk off chuckling.

The sun is beginning to set as I get on my bike and ride to the auto shop which we own, and where we build customised bikes as well as provide the usual sales and maintenance service for all models. We’ve got quite a reputation, even if some people only like coming to us to be able to boast with their friends how they’re not afraid to walk on the wild side.

Despite the success of our business, my mood sours as I draw close.

You’d think with what people know and rightly believe about the Wretched Soulz MC, that the last thing they’d do is steal from us. But for the last couple of weeks, bits and pieces have been going missing. Not huge things and not really valuable, just nuts, bolts, a battery cover and the odd bottle of engine oil. Insignificant, and as such, it took a while for us to notice anything had been disturbed.

Once Claw became suspicious, he’d done an inventory to check. What he found was that while we maintain and service all models of bikes, everything stolen was for a Harley.

We’re Soulz, it’s our territory. We’ve got lax about security, relying on our reputation to keep people away. Legend was pulled in to replace old or broken cameras and install new alarms. He was due to finish today, and tonight, I’m going to be here in case anything goes down.

Nothing like catching a thief red-handed.

It’s been a while since my fists have seen some action so I’m looking forward to deploying them tonight. I’m really hoping our light-fingered guy will put in an appearance.

It must be near midnight and I’m on my third beer, when Legend suddenly exclaims, “There. Look.”

Placing my bottle down, I sit forward as a shadowy figure seems to be approaching the security fence that’s meant to keep everyone out. It’s hard to tell much. The figure’s upper body and head is shrouded in a hoodie, and their face hasn’t yet been caught on a camera.

“I’ll call Claw.” Legend reaches for his phone.

“Nah. Hold off a moment. If it’s only one, we can take them on ourselves.”

“Will you fuckin’ look at that?” Legend’s eyes widen as he points to the monitor.

My jaw drops as I watch the man lithely scale the telegraph pole close to our fence, then secure a rope to it and swing down and over the high steel fence. The rope stays dangling there, and obviously, it’s that that he intends to use as his means of escape.

“Guess that’s the answer as to how he’s been getting in.” I’m already out of my seat. I may be impressed with the athleticism of our thief, but he’s still got a lesson to learn about stealing from the Soulz. “Nah, you stay here, Ledge. I can handle one asshole like him.” Or if I can’t take the not-very-tall and definitely not-very-built figure who’s been robbing us, then it’s time to hang up my motorcycle boots.

I’ve honed the ability to move silently over the years. If I don’t want you to know I’m near, you won’t, not until I’ve gotten up close and personal. Moving through our darkened building that I know like the back of my hand, I emerge into the yard. There’s the thief who’s somehow not only managed to open our storeroom door but also defied the new alarm Legend had fitted.

I push thewhat the fuck?question to the back of my mind. It’s not important for now. What’s more critical is that I end this, and before the thief gets more confident and starts stealing things of higher value.

Stealthily, I come up behind the fucker who’s rummaging through our boxes of spare parts, muttering softly as though they’re looking for something in particular that’s not immediately at hand.

Taking my gun out of my cut, I ease off the safety with an audible and unmissable click.

With a speed I wasn’t expecting, instead of freezing, the thief comes straight for me, kicking the gun out of my hand and planting a fist in my stomach.

A split second is all it takes for me to think,game fucking on.No one’s going to get the better of me and definitely not on my turf. Turning the tables, I go on the offensive, using every dirty street-fighting trick I ever learned.

But my opponent has clearly gone to the same school, and for a moment, we’re evenly matched, despite that I’m far bigger in size. We both land and block kicks and punches. I’m breathing heavily when at last, luck’s on my side and I get the upper hand.

I sweep the feet from under my assailant, and he lands heavily on the ground. I come down on him, my fist raised to punch a direct hit on his face only to pull it at the last moment.

“You’re a fuckin’ bitch,” I gasp. To prove it, I sweep the hoodie back off her head, revealing her face.

“Get off me.” She keeps struggling.

“Give it up. I caught you stealing from us.” And I’m going to make her pay. I don’t care if she’s a woman, thieving is thieving whatever the sex.

She refuses to give in, unfortunately managing to attract the interest of my cock, and I harden as she writhes beneath me. I wouldn’t be a man if I didn’t suddenly have ideas about what retribution she could make.

“Yeah, just keep that up.” I can’t help the leer coming to my face.

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