Page 99 of Love is Strange
I giggle as I thank her. This exuberance is unexpected and welcome after my long day at work. We sit down with heaping bowls of stew and discuss the days events. Hers are filled with what animal finds she has found and mine are what new clients I have signed on and what ones have left the firm. Plus there is always watercooler talk, who is sleeping with whom, and what not. She listens earnestly, asks questions, then excuses herself to shower.
I laugh because it’s her way to get out of cleaning up. I clean up the kitchen, put the extra stew away, and go into the bedroom to see my sexy vixen all spread out on my bed.
“I need you.” She said softly.
Clearly I don’t need anymore coaxing than that. I strip my clothes off, and climb up to her, to kiss those sensual lips, giving her the chance to climb on top. Thanks to my brother, she dislikes being on the bottom, she feels trapped. So I give her anything she wants so she feels safe.
To my astonishment, she pulls me on top of her. I question her with my eyes and she smiles and nods. I feel like a skittish schoolgirl I am so excited. She is so beautiful and she is mine.
We make love most of the night. It almost feels spiritual. She has the most loving look on her face. I swear I love this girl so much my heart could burst.
“Celeste?”
“Hmmm?”
“Would you spend the rest of your life with me?”
I look at her with tears in my eyes and nod yes. I am kissing her full on the mouth I realize my fatal mistake as I feel the knife blade slide up my spine. She looks adoringly in my eyes and slits my throat.
Lisbet
Celeste is my ultimate stuffie.Having her here with me everyday is my ultimate pleasure.
The End
Caim
ANNA EDWARDS
Chapter One
CAIM
“I don’t like it.The motherfucker’s too quiet.” At Tank, my president, pulls his gun out of its holster and primes the weapon.
“Slippery bastards probably trying to pull a fast one, again.” I bring my own weapon up, ready to fire should it be needed. A gun feels strange in my hands as it’s not my weapon of choice for something like this. I prefer a sword, and hence my road name. I’m the fallen angel with a rapier, Caim. Prez and I are here to pick up a ‘grass’, the cunt Snake, who lost us at least thirty thousand dollars in a deal. He ratted us out to the cops, and they found our stash before we could sell it. Perfectly good weed incinerated after months of hard work growing the stuff. I don't smoke it myself as I like to keep my brain focused. I've got enough shit going on in my head, so it doesn’t need to be clouded by an artificial high. I'm not against it, though. I'd be a hypocrite if I were, considering my club sells it. There are people who need it just to get through the day with their medical problems. You can't always judge a book by its cover. Damn, I need to get my head in the game and stop drifting off into my own dreamworld. The man we’re hunting may have been stupid to go to the police, but he's a skilled fighter and has been around motorcycle clubs for a long time. He was a prominent member of a club in Chicago until he relocated to sunny California, about ten years ago. Prez gave him a chance on a recommendation from his previous club, but he's never really fitted in with us. There was always something about him which seemed strange. Now we know what it was, he’s out for himself. Well, his luck has just run out, and tonight he dies. Nobody crosses the Jade Riders and gets away with it.
Prez mouths ‘Caim’ and nods towards a door at the back of the house we’re in. The place is run down and stinks worse than the club after a party. Rotting, leftover meals litter the place, discarded smut magazines cover the floor, and ashtrays are everywhere overflowing with ash and butts. Reminds me of the wonderful place I grew up in!
Prez wants the door opened and fast. The element of surprise is key to capturing this fucker before he can put a bullet in his own head or ours.
I bring my giant size twelve booted foot up and smack it hard into the door. It splinters and cracks wide open. In an instant, Prez and I rush the room. It’s dark, but the light through the broken door allows us to make out the lonely figure of the man we came for. He’s sitting at a table surrounded by books, encyclopedias’, fiction stories, all of the edges tattered and torn as though they’ve been read over and over again. I never pictured Snake for much of a reader.
“Snake?” The leader of our club strides over to the table and thumps his hands down on it.
“Prez?”
“I think you know why we’re here.”
"To kill me," the condemned man replies with a bluntness, which sends a shiver down my spine. This seems far too easy. I'm on edge, and nothing about this room is doing anything to calm my sense of dread. I try to see into the corner of the unlit space but am met with only darkness. I go to my biker brother's side, ready to act on his instructions.
“Why’d you do it?” the president asks.
“Greed. What else?”
“Didn’t you get enough from me? The club has made all of us rich men.”
“I wanted more.”
