Page 8 of Sinful Need
We are all exhausted, the party to celebrate the club's successful run and Rayne’s birthday lasted three days. Us prospects spent the last seventy-two hours scrubbing bathrooms, mopping up puke and countless cum spots around the clubhouse from the party. A party we weren’t allowed to attend. It’s our job to clean up after their debauchery and any other demeaning jobs they order.
We’ve been stripped of our shoes and the afternoon sun is burning blisters into the soles of my feet. It’s got to be pushing a hundred degrees. The black leather vest we all wear is weighing heavy on my shoulders and the sweat is pouring down my back and into the crack of my ass. It’s as uncomfortable as all hell but not as bad as my anxiety over whatever is waiting for usup ahead. Hawk has been even more of an asshole the past few days.
“Move it, pussies. We don’t have all day.” Digger, the VP, shoves one of the other prospects forward, tripping him up. He manages to stay on his feet but not after a stumble that elicits roars of laughter from the other club officers. The rest of us pick up the pace to avoid being the next one to be taunted. If they're not hurling insults at us or barking orders, the club members don’t give us the time of day.
This isn’t how I imagined prospecting would be like. When I met Rayne, she made this sound like fun. She called the Viper’s Den her family and that hit me hard. I miss my brother, something fierce. He was always the constant I could rely on and with him dead, I have no one left. That’s why I’m still here with the Viper’s Den months later enduring the endless hazing that amounts to Frat week on steroids. That and I’m still holding out hope there’s a chance I can be with Rayne. Permanently. After our night together things changed fast. Hawk made a spectacle claiming her as his own. I’ve barely been keeping it together having to watch the way he treats her. A few stolen glances is all we’ve been able to share. He’s keeping her close and when she’s not chained to his side, she’s locked away. I’m slowly dying inside. Not being with her is even more torture than what they’re putting us through.
Hawk narrows his eyes at me when I finally reach the spot he’s standing. “Do you want to hit me, Prospect?”
God, yes I do. I want to pound my fist into his face until his nose is bloody and his eyes are swollen, but I can’t. He’s got a buck twenty on me, plus an entire club that would put me in the ground for even thinking about it. I don’t even care that much about patching into this club, they’re all a bunch of psychos anyway, but hiding out with the Viper’s Den is the only thing keeping Child Protective Services from finding me and keepingme close to Rayne. I need two more weeks until I’m eighteen and off the radar. I won’t go back to that group home. Not even for a single day. Even if it means staying in this new hell.
You take things for granted, when you don’t know how others live. I had my struggles, but all and all I had it good. My brother saw to that above anything else.
I lift my head, drawing my eyes up toward Hawk’s. There’s nothing but darkness staring back at me. Hawk makes me sick to my stomach. It’s not the way he treats us, I guess that's par for the course but the way he treats Rayne makes me want to hurl. I’m close to my breaking point.
“If you want to hit me, I’ll give you a free pass.” Hawk removes the cigarette from between his lips and ashes it. The small ember misses the toe of his boot and hits the top of my bare foot. Instinctively, I shake it off, my movement kicking sand onto his boots. He looks down and up again and before I know it his fist slams into my face and I fly backwards into the sand. He barks out a heavy laugh, “That’s why Rayne’s pussy belongs to me. You’re not even man enough to fight.”
“Enough with this shit.” Digger interrupts. “Let’s get this game going.”
Hawk turns his back and I scramble to my feet, thankful for the brief pardon, although I’m sure I’m going to pay later.
“Line up two by two.” The other prospects fall in line and I join them. “What’s the first rule of this club?”
“We’re always packing.” One of the other prospects answer.
Hawk stalks to him, getting right up in his face, “Did you say something, pantywaist? I can’t fucking hear you when you mumble.”
“Always carry.” The prospect standing across from him says louder.
Hawk’s mouth twitches as he turns towards the one that spoke. “You pussies protecting each other doesn’t impress me. Get out your fucking guns.”
Hesitantly we all hold out our guns as a club officer steps in front of each of us. Hawk zeros his focus back on me, “Hand it over, dickwad.”
I do as he asks. Hawk empties my clip of all but one bullet. A quick glance around and I see the club officers are doing the same with everyone’s guns. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He loads the magazine and racks the chamber before handing back my gun. “You only get one round. Don’t waste it on a stupid idea.”
Hawk stands in the middle of the group while the others step aside, leaving the four of us standing a few feet apart, facing each other with a loaded round in our guns. “Don’t look so scared, boys. Chances are at least one of you will get a patch tonight. Hell, I might even let you sample some club pussy. When I say go, two of you raise your guns and aim for the head. Live and you get a patch. Simple.”
My hand is trembling. Hawk’s venom continues to pour out of his mouth. “I bet you’d like to stick your limp dick in Rayne’s sweet pussy again, huh Jase?”
I swallow hard but know better than to answer him. I didn’t know he knew. Rayne and I promised never to tell a soul in fear of what Hawk might do to us. To her. I make solid eye contact with Storm standing across from me and our unspoken thoughts pass between us. The look of hatred in his eyes is a direct reflection of my own. We could easily turn our guns on Hawk and end his reign of terror. There’s no love lost between Storm and Hawk. He’s made it his mission to officially patch into the club and eventually uncover the truth of who murdered his father. When he does, I have no doubt Hawk, Digger and anyonestanding with them will pay. Storm is as loyal as they come and hell bent on justice. That's a dangerous combination.
The defining echo of two unison gunshots pulls me out of my thoughts. I stumble backwards as blood and brain matter splatter onto my face and chest. I fall on my ass with a heavy thud only to land next to a prospect with a gaping hole in his forehead.
“Oh Fuck. I didn’t see that coming.” The peanut gallery of club officers roar from their positions off to the side.
I pull myself to my feet, taking in what happened. Both prospects landed kill shots and are now lifeless in the dirt. My eyes shoot back to Storm’s. He’s trembling as much as I am.
“That sucks. I liked this one.” Hawk kicks the leg of the dead prospect before stepping over him and stopping next to Storm and I. “Who do you think told me about you and Rayne in the first place?”
Storm's eyes plead with me to hold it together. Keeping our heads on our shoulders is the only way we’re going to find a way out of this.
“Looks like we’re down to two.”
“My money’s on Storm.” Digger chimes in.
“Do you have the balls, Prospect? It’s a win win for me. Storm kills you and it’s one less problem for me to deal with,” Hawk eggs me on. “If you kill him, then Rayne will hate you forever.”
Storm's hand is trembling as he raises his gun. I wipe the blood splatter off my face. A win for Hawk, but for Storm and I, no one wins at this game. My hands are shaking as I sweep the barrel of my gun toward Hawk. Hawk moves for his piece and so do the other officers. I have one round to make count but the five guns aimed at me are fully loaded. Neither of us would make it out alive. I lower my piece and tuck it into my jeans.
