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eddiemunson-fanfic · 5 months

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I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!artist!reader

Part 17: A creature of love, I can't be tamed

masterlist playlist

18+ONLY, series typical violence, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex with someone other than Eddie and reader, hate-fucking (consensual), oral (m receiving), sexual harassment, biker!steve, biker!billy, protective!eddie, rocker!nancy

word count: 6.4k

songs: I Hate Myself for Loving You by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, Wild Child by W.A.S.P. and Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative

The second half of your first night back at the Velvet Hammer heats up with Eddie on stage, Charlene on the premises with Billy, and Steve working through his emotions in a moment of carnal desire.

authors note: It has felt so good to get back to writing this story, I missed our biker boys so much. It will probably be another week or two until the next part, but you won't have to wait too long. Thank you for your patience, I love you.

There came the sound of shrill feedback from the stage, and the drummer twisted his stick around his fingers before clapping the high hat. You took your break and met Eddie over by the carpeted hallway. The two of you huddled together, out of view from the front half of the bar, including Charlene and Billy.

“What’s Steve going to do?” You hushed, feeling the familiar anxiety rise inside of you that someone might get hurt again.

“Nothing for now,” Eddie exhaled. You put your hand on his chest, and he held it there. “You let me worry about Steve and Charlene, you have enough to do. I won’t let anything go sideways in here tonight.”

You told him about what you’d just learned from Shana, about Charlene being part owner of the Velvet Hammer, and he gave a slow blink, dragging out a long, ragged breath. “Why does that not surprise me,” you could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning. “She can’t have this place, it’s ours,” he growled, walking you down the hall and clanking open the heavy metal back door to the alley.

“But,” you started. Eddie pulled a pack of smokes out of his front pocket and sparked a flame from his zippo to light the end. “Isn’t it too late for that? It sounds like she already took it?”

You held two fingers like you were making a peace sign for Eddie to pass you a smoke and he raised his eyebrow at you curiously. You gave a nod, answering his unspoken question, and he put a second one between his lips to light it for you before passing it over.

You took a tiny drag and coughed smoke out of your nose at first, but then the second inhale was smoother. Thanks to so many nights at the Hammer, your throat and lungs were sufficiently coated with tar and ready for the challenge.

The other owner of the Hammer was a well known real estate investor and builder named Murray Bauman, and he was a friend of the MC. They’d done several “jobs” for him over the years that were clean by MC standards, but dirty enough to ruin his reputation if they came to light. Murray was also notoriously unfriendly with the Gregson’s, and Eddie wondered how much Charlene had paid, and what kind of scandal she’d dug up on Stephen, to make him give up his share like that.

Eddie tilted his head back, exposing his throat, to take a long, thoughtful drag, looking up at the clear sky that was blinking full of stars. “I wish I could go back in time before I ever met Charlene, and avoid her at all costs.”

“I don’t know,” you looked down and kicked the heel of your shoe against your toe. “She’s awfully determined. I think she would’ve found you anyway. Plus, I don’t think it’s you she wants anymore.”

“I feel responsible though,” Eddie muttered, blowing smoke out through tight lips. “For everything that’s happened to the people around me because of her.”

The sound of Nancy saying something into the mic, followed by the crowd cheering, came muffled through the door, and you really wanted to change the subject, to pull him out of his dark thoughts. “I’d love to see you play tonight,” you told him right before both of your cherries glowed orange at the same time in the dark.

“I don’t have my guitar here,” he stated the obvious, sucking his tongue on the roof on a sharp inhale, angling his head back to blow smoke up while keeping his eyes on you. “But I might sing one or two with her. Just for you.”

“You can sing too?” Your eyes got wide like a little kid watching the twinkling lights on a Christmas tree.

“Hi, baby, have we met?” He scoffed, slipping his bottom lip through his teeth to repress a grin, and then he winked at you and smashed his smoke on the brick wall before throwing it in the dumpster. He caught you by the hips and pulled you flush to him. “I mean, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

—--------

Back on his stool, Steve rolled a toothpick between his lips while he scanned the crowd, and did his best not to look over at Billy and Charlene. He wasn’t sure what was eating at him more; the fact that she had the nerve to show up after everything, or that she was there with Billy.

The crew from Lucifer’s Own were known for doing the dirty deeds no other MC would touch. They ran a high-end escort service on the outskirts of town, and did a lot of blow and opiate smuggling over the border. It was also a front for an underground fighting ring that was dirty and rigged, and sometimes, the fools who participated ended up with broken bones, or had their lights turned out completely.

Billy Hargrove and Steve went way back, and they’d actually been friendly acquaintances for a while back in high school, until Billy had pursued a girl Steve liked at the time just to piss him off. Also, to prove to Steve that he could take whoever he wanted. “Nothing wrong with a little competition, right, Harrington?” Is that what this was? Was Billy escorting Charlene around just to rub it in Steve’s face?

“Yeah, well, you can have her,” Steve mumbled to himself under his breath, thoughts racing so fast that he was starting to talk to himself, head bent to work the end of the toothpick with his fingers. “Good luck with that one, buddy, you’ll need it.”

There was more feedback from the speakers. “Hey there Hawkins, who is ready to rock?” Nancy purred into the microphone, one hand gripping the fretboard of her guitar before she slung the strap around her body. People shouted and cheered, and there were a few high-pitched whistles of encouragement.

The bassist with the band looked like a younger version of Eddie, but with a mane of black hair that was thick with tight curls, and the drummer had a black goatee and long, straight hair way past his shoulders. The backup guitarist looked like he was cut right out of the James Hetfeild playbook.

“We’re gonna start out with a little something familiar to get y’all warmed up,” Nancy said into the mic. “This one is called I Hate Myself for Loving You.”

The crowd roared, pounding their fists on the tables. Nancy said a countdown before she began a slow clap to the beat and the drums kicked in, deep bass vibrating in the walls.

When Steve looked up, he saw Charlene making her way across the room, either for the payphone or the restrooms, and Steve straightened up, wondering if he should say something to her. He went up to the bar and patted Thumper on his broad back, asking him to watch the door for a few minutes. Thumper was three beers and several shots in, but was not yet showing any signs of inebriation. He fisted a handful of his graying beard and told Steve it was no problem.

“Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you?

You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two

I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you…”

He followed but he hung back, hiding in the crowd until he saw her go into one of the bathrooms. When you and Eddie came out from the alley, you found Steve leaning against the wall that was heavily papered in band flyers, next to the payphone.

Eddie was walking behind you,his hands firm on your hips, moving his legs in time with yours. You both came to a halt at the sight of Steve, and you had to shove off, back to work, but Eddie took your hand to kiss your knuckles before you walked away.

“Everything cool?” Eddie asked his friend, checking around to make sure no chaos had ensued while he’d been outside with you. There was a huge crowd there, packed in like sardines. All of the tables and bar stools were occupied, and plenty of people were taking advantage of the standing room only, blocking most of the walkways.

“I’m not sure yet, man,” Steve put his head back against the wall, Adam’s apple jutting out. “But I’ll let you know.”

“I called Van and told him to get over here with Devlin,” Eddie let him know. “Just in case more of Lucifer’s Own try to cause trouble.”

Steve only nodded, absently, his eyes twitching to the bathroom door every so often. Eddie clapped Steve a few times on the arm before turning to watch the band as he pushed his way through the crowd. Nancy made her fingers into devil horns in the air at him and Eddie returned the gesture, raising his arm high.

“I think of you every night and day

You took my heart and you took my pride away…”

The crowd was stomping their feet to the rhythm and belting out the chorus. Nancy detached the mic from the stand to make her way across the stage.

The second Steve saw the door open, he took long strides across the hallway to keep Charlene from exiting, pushing her back inside the single-person bathroom. She did not protest as he braced the door and locked it behind him, turning to face her with a tight jaw.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Char?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” She hushed it, dropping her gaze as if suddenly she was afraid to look at him. “I missed you.”

“Jesus Christ, Charlene, you need to stop.” He rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated. “I’m sorry for how I treated you at the hotel, but this needs to end.”

“But what if I don’t want to stop?” She closed in on him, lifting her hands to hold his face, but he blocked the effort, restraining her at the wrists. “What if I want you so bad, it hurts?”

He met her eyes. “You miss me and you thought fucking Billy would be the answer?”

“We’re not fucking, it’s not like that with him. Not like it was with you.” She struggled a little in his grasp just so he would tighten his grip on her.

Steve scoffed. “You mean, not like it was with me and Eddie and your husband and every other dude you’ve spread your legs for in this town?” Steve wasn’t one to judge, not with the amount of pussy he’d run through over the years, but still, showing up with one of his rivals was a low blow.

Charlene slammed forward so that Steve’s back hit the door, her breath hot and urgent on his neck. “No one fills me up like you do. I need your cock to split me open one last time, Stevie, please.”

She sank to her knees, kissing down his chest as she went, and he let her, releasing her wrists so that she could make quick work of unbuttoning his Levi’s. She licked around his balls and nuzzled her face in the hair at the base of his thick shaft, making hungry gasps of need as she did so.

He hissed when the fat head of his cock sank into her mouth. “Juss…just one more time,” he groaned as she lapped him up. She hummed around his length and nodded, looking up at him, agreeing as her lips strained to take the measure of his girth.

“I know you’re angry, Steve,” she flicked her tongue out over the ridge a few times like a poisonous snake about to strike. “I want you to take it out on me.”

He fisted a handful of her hair, tight, so that he controlled the movements of her head, and it made her whimper with pleasure.

—------

The next song Divine Filth sang was an original, a real headbanger that had Nancy growling into the mic and jabbing her devil horn fingers in the air. The bass guitarist’s fingers strummed the keys while the drummer spun his sticks high in the air and caught them. You noticed that a few of the male patrons were choosing to go outside to take a piss, which meant there was another line at the bathrooms again, but you were too busy to go over and check out why.

While Erika was on her break, it was your responsibility to go over and check on Billy, since Jackie was working the other side of the room. Two more of the Coffin Kings had just arrived and Eddie was out in the parking lot having a talk with them, being that it was hard to have a conversation inside with the band playing.

You made your way over to Billy’s table, noticing that Charlene was nowhere to be found. One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin while he watched you approach, and you wondered if he knew who you were and who you belonged to. You also wondered if he gave a shit.

As you got closer, you noticed that he had a pronounced scar from his eye to his jaw, and he didn’t have a ton of tattoos like the other boys, but there was the word “mother” above a heart with a dagger through it just under the sleeve of his t-shirt on his bicep and a Lucifer’s Own insignia on his opposite forearm.

He was slouched down a bit in his seat, knees spread wide, voice raised to be heard over the music. “You must be War Machine’s old lady,” he gave you a lift of his chin.

“You are correct,” you said with your best customer service smile.

“Damn,” his hand made a cage around the pack of smokes on the table so he could pull it toward him. His eyes locked onto your face, unwavering. “That son of a bitch always had good taste.”

“If you say so,” you checked over your shoulder, expecting to see Eddie charging over with that dangerous scowl on his face, but he wasn’t inside yet. You cleared your throat. “Can I get you anything else?”

He ordered another beer for himself and a tequila for Charlene, even though you knew she was much more of a wine drinker.

“Just put it on Charlene’s tab,” he said with a wink, alluding to the fact that she was practically your boss now. “But this is for you,” and before you could reach for the 20 dollar bill he had in his hand, he was stuffing it into the waistband of your shorts, fingers grazing your bare skin, watching the discomfort wash over your face as he did so.

You turned on your heel without another word, bee-lining back to the bar, when Eddie stepped through the main door so abruptly, you almost crashed into him.

Devlin and Van moved around the two of you while Eddie put one hand on your lower back and the other cupped the back of your neck. “You okay, baby?” He mumbled, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

You nodded, but then Eddie looked over in the direction you had just come and saw Billy there, flicking the flame on his lighter and watching the interaction between the two of you. You knew what Eddie was looking at by the way his body tensed. “Did Billy say something to you?”

“I had to wait on his table while Erika was on her break,” you were pulling your boyfriend away as you were talking, practically dragging him back to his seat at the bar. “Nothing happened, I’m fine. I just missed you.”

On stage, Nancy lit into a mean guitar solo.

“You sure?” Eddie’s stare was hard.

“Hey,” you grabbed Eddie’s face, making him look at you. “Baby, can’t you see? He wants to start trouble. Just ignore him. Please, for me.”

“Did he touch you?” His jaw muscles bulged and a dark fell over his brown eyes, making them almost black.

“No baby,” you hummed the lie. Eddie had quite a bit of common sense, more so than Steve when it came to affairs of the heart, but you knew that someone would get hurt if you told him about the way Billy had slid that money into your shorts. You had no doubt that Eddie could handle himself, but you didn’t want there to be any more fighting; everyone had already been through enough. Plus, Billy was not the first guy at the Hammer to overstep, and he wouldn’t be the last. Sadly, that was the nature of the work, you’d come to realize.

Eddie took a breath and lowered his forehead to yours, slotting his fingers around your ears so that his thumbs grazed your cheeks. “I’ll be good, sweetheart,” he promised.

Everyone clapped at the end of the song and then you heard Eddie’s name being said over the speakers.

“We’re lucky enough to have the frontman for Corroded Coffin here with us tonight,” Nancy started. “And he said he might get up here for a song or two. What do you say, Munson?”

The crowd went wild at that suggestion, and some even chanted his last name, punching fists into the air. Nancy motioned him on stage with a few scoops of her fingers.

“I guess I’m doing this,” he said, parting your lips with his tongue for a brief but firm kiss before he made his way to the stage. The James Hetfield guy was already taking off his guitar to hand it to Eddie before he could protest, and they clapped hands together in greeting. Your “old man” was adjusting the strap over his shoulder when he looked out over the sea of heads and caught your eye.

“I love you,” Eddie mouthed, taking the pic off of the chain that he had dangling around his neck.

—-------

Five minutes earlier, Steve had Charlene bent over the sink in the bathroom, jeans low on his hips, yanking her head back by the throat as he jackhammered himself inside of her.

“Tighter,” she whined, and his fingers closed in on her windpipe. He’d pushed her thong to the side and was spitting every so often so that he could watch it slide down her slit and mix with the frothing wet mess of her arousal where his cock sank into her. He didn’t need the saliva to lube his brutal pace, but he liked the idea of spitting on her, it helped him work through his hatred.

“God Steve, you’re so fucking good, fuckkk,” she dragged the last word out as hips clapped onto her with rapid, forceful grunts, making her whole body jerk each time he made contact.

He slowed the pace for a few thrusts so that he could spit again, and then he used his thumb to rub the saliva around the pink hole that tightened at his touch. He’d never been with a woman who had every inch of hair removed like her, she looked like some kind of porn star. He wanted to be in her ass one last time, but it felt too tight and warm where he was. He was close.

He let go of her throat and clutched her hips on either side in a way that would bruise, angling to finish himself off.

“You’re such a fucking whore for my cock,” he bit out. He wished she didn’t feel so fucking good. He wished that his disgust for her didn’t also turn him on in a way that made him uncomfortable.

Charlene’s eyes rolled back in her head, orgasm mounting rapidly as he buried himself base deep to a point where the line between pleasure and pain was blurred. She knew this was a farewell reminder, and it made her cry out his name.

“Fuck Steve, I’m cumming,” a few more pumps and she was exploding around his length, legs shaking at the way the wave crashed over her, making her see white.

“Get on your knees,” Steve told her, his hips stuttering. When she was down in front of him, he jerked himself the rest of the way off onto her outstretched tongue, ropes of cum painting her chin and dripping down to her cleavage. He made her lick the rest of him clean, and then she sucked her fingers.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door.

“Yeah, hold your fucking horses,” Steve shouted, pulling his jeans up. He helped Charlene get her bodysuit back on and zipped up. He almost kissed her, but then he remembered who she was.

He checked himself in the mirror and slicked his hair back before letting her know she should wait a minute until after he was gone before she followed him out. She was cleaning the mascara that had leaked down her cheeks, and was about to apply more lipstick, when she caught his eyes on her in the reflection.

“What if I told you I had a gift for you?” Her expression was coy.

Steve sighed. “I don’t want anything from you, Char. This was it, I’m done, I mean it.”

She rolled the red lipstick out of its gold tube. “What if it was something that would change your life?”

He thought about that, wetting his lips. “Listen, we’re never gonna fuck again. I don’t care if you buy me a Ferrari.”

“Well, it’s better than a car,” she huffed a small laugh. “Let’s just call it a…parting gift. A way for me to say sorry for everything I put you and Eddie through.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and put his back against the door. “Yeah, well, if this is about to be some grande gesture from you, I’d like to know what the catch is.”

She turned to him, fixing the ends of her hair around her face. “No catch, not this time,” she took a step forward, holding her black clutch in one hand. “Listen, I know it sounds childish and stupid, but I think I…I think I fell in love with you.” She furrowed her brow as if the sentiment didn’t make sense to her, as if she’d never grasped the weight of the words before.

Steve couldn’t help himself, he rolled his eyes and barked a laugh, thoroughly amused.

“I can’t change the past,” she tried to push her chest out, to get her statuesque posture back. “But I can try to make it up to you. To both of you.”

“Yeah?” Steve gave her a bored shrug. “Personally, I think you’re way past the point of redemption.”

“Maybe,” she pressed her lips together and took hold of the door handle. “I guess we’ll see.”

—------

All of your attention was eyes front on Eddie as he leaned over to discuss something with Nancy, lengthening the strap on his guitar as he spoke. You barely noticed someone trying to make their way through the crowd until Steve bumped into your shoulder, making you sway on your feet.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he caught you and helped you find your balance. “I didn’t see you there.”

Steve looked…disheveled, and his face was flushed, as if he’d just run around the block. There were lines in his hair from raking his fingers through it so many times.

“You good?” You called after him, but all he offered was a “thumbs up” over his shoulder.

It was barely a minute before you caught sight of Charlene coming out of the hallway, following in his wake. She had a pink flush to the pale skin of her throat, almost a perfect handprint impression, and your brain was busy putting the pieces together when Nancy got back on the mic.

“This one is called Wild Child,” Nancy started on the guitar and people in the crowd got crazy again. The Hell’s Belle next to you whistled so loud, it almost blew your eardrum out. You weren’t too familiar with the band W.A.S.P. before Eddie, but you knew the song, and waited eagerly to hear his voice as he leaned in, moving his fingers along the strings.

“I ride, I ride the winds that bring the rain

A creature of love, and I can't be tamed

I want you, 'cause I'm gonna take your love from him

And I'll touch your face and hot burning skin

No, he'll never ever touch you like I do…”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he sang the first bit, hair hanging down his shoulders, muscles flexing under the ink that covered his forearms and hands. When his eyes opened, he found you in the crowd, and your heart swelled at the way he cracked a smile around the words at the sight of you.

“So look in my eyes and burn alive, the truth

I'm a wild child, come and love me

I want you…”

God, he was magic up there. He looked like a natural, holding that guitar in his hands, the way his fingers flew deftly to each note.

And he was all yours.

The chorus came and you sang the words, smiling so hard already, your cheeks hurt. You’d never known your eyes to “sparkle” like a cartoon before, but you felt like that’s what they were doing.

“My heart's in exile, I need you to touch me

'Cause I want what you do

I want you”

Someone grabbed your elbow, and you spun around to see who it was.

Jackie had a full tray in her hand, trying to balance it amidst the moving bodies. “Hey, are you on the floor right now? Don’t mean to be a bitch, but I need you. A table full of jarheads just showed up.”

“Oh shit, right,” you’d honestly forgot where you were for a moment, you’d been so caught up in that Munson Magic. You took another glance at the stage, wanting to catch Eddie’s eye, but he was looking down at his hands, concentrating on where they worked the guitar.

The table in your section that Jackie mentioned had seven guys in their mid-twenties sporting that type of “high and tight” haircut that you saw almost exclusively with members of military or law enforcement, and you took a deep breath, because you never knew what the vibe would be for those types of men who visited the Hammer. Either they’d be extremely polite like they just came from church, or they’d be vile and disrespectful.

“What’ll it be tonight, boys?” You asked, sidling up to their table. “Buy one pitcher of draft and get the next half off.”

They all turned to appraise you, not caring that the way their lewd stares locking on your body and tits made you uncomfortable.

“See, I told you,” the dark haired one said to the one in the red and white striped polo shirt. “The bitches here are super hot.”

You gulped, doing your best to restrain from looking as disgusted as you felt while they talked about you like you weren’t even there.

“How much for you to sit in my lap?” One of them asked.

“How much for you to suck me off?” One of them whispered, and the whole table guffawed into the type of laughter that was not warranted for something that was so not funny.

You checked over your shoulder for Steve, and he appeared to be escorting someone out who’d just been cut off. There was a bench outside, and he always had them wait there while he called a member of their family or a taxi to come pick them up. The guy was having a hard time getting his legs to work, and Steve had to practically carry him out.

You glanced up at the stage when the other song ended, and you could tell Eddie was searching for you, and so you stuck your hand up in the air to catch his attention.

“This one is for my girl,” he pushed hair out of his face and the sentiment made you freeze. A goofy grin stretched across your face and you let out an actual giggle. You were very familiar with the opening notes of Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative.

“So, a pitcher of beer, then?” You asked, distracted, but in a much better mood than you were a few seconds ago. The guys at the table were too busy being crass to decide what they wanted to drink, so you chose for them. They agreed on the pitcher, and ordered a round of shots.

You kept your attention on Eddie as you made your way across the space, and your heart was in your throat at how proud you were to be his. His voice was deep and powerful, and it seemed like no one could pull their eyes away. The air was a bit humid inside, and you could see a sheen of sweat on his skin already glistening, bangs sticking to his forehead. He’d taken off his Coffin Kings cut and shirt, so he was up there in a ribbed, white tank of the Hanes variety, exposing the wash of dark tattoos over his shoulders and arm muscles that bulged from hours upon hours of manual labor.

“I want to live with a cinnamon girl

I could be happy the rest of my life with her

A dreamer of pictures, I run in the night

You see us together, chase the moonlight…”

At the bar, you considered letting Van and Devlin know that there were some guys there who might start trouble now that Steve was distracted, but then you remembered that you were the bad bitch who stabbed Craig in the balls and brought him to his knees—-you could handle a few young douchebags.

You gave Shana the drink order while Eddie’s deep voice bellowed, “my cinnamon girl, my cinnamon girl…” to the collective swooning of the crowd.

You waited on two other couples, lingering in the middle of the room so that you could see Eddie more clearly, dragging your feet before you had to return to the guys with the matching haircuts.

You took a cleansing breath and squared your shoulders before heading back. You tried not to be bothered by the way the dudes checked you out as you put the drinks down. When you were finished, the guy closest to you, with close-set eyes and a thick neck, ran his hand up the back of your leg.

“Hey,” your stare hardened on him and you stepped away, eyebrows pinching together. “No touching.”

The guys all snickered at that, as if it was so funny that they all knew they weren’t supposed to touch the staff, but they still got away with it.

“No he’s sorry, really,” said the tall, skinny one who hadn’t spoken up yet. His face was unreadable, you couldn’t tell if he was being a shitheel or not. The table fell silent for a beat. “But we would really like to know how much it would cost for handjobs, all around. Is there a group price for you girls?”

More idiotic cackling.

You turned to leave them, to go find Steve, to let him know you needed his assistance, but the one with the blonde hair and Limp Bizkit shirt caught you by the arm, digging his fingers in, and yanked you back so that his other hand could roam the curve of your ass. “Just a little feel, baby, we’ll tip good, I promise.”

You pushed him off and were just about to yell for Steve or Thumper when you saw the guy across the round table get his face smashed into the wood, so hard that blood splattered and you could hear the sick crack of breaking bone.

You were surprised to see Billy there, standing behind the one who was clutching his broken nose and wailing. He was smiling, cigarette bobbing between his lips. “I think you bozo’s should apologize to the lady.”

You hadn’t heard the music stop, didn’t realize that the commotion had drawn most of the attention to you.

In a flash, the guy in the Limp Bizkit shirt was ripped from his seat, and there was Eddie, picking him up by the throat to punch him across the face, sending him flying.

The impact made saliva and possibly a tooth go spitting from his mouth and you screamed at the shock of it.

“Eddie look out!” You shouted. The tall one was about to take a cheap shot at Eddie’s ribs while he sank another punch into the guy’s jaw, but you came down with your serving tray as hard as you could and nailed him.

“Holy shit,” Steve cursed when he stuck his head inside to see what the commotion was. Thumper was nowhere to be found, and Steve figured he was taking a piss. Starting brawls inside the Hammer was not protocol. Bouncers were always encouraged to take everything outside, but now it was too late.

“Get her out of here!” you heard Steve’s voice, he was talking to Devlin, and then you were being pulled back by cautious hands, away from the chaos.

One of the jarheads was just about to break a beer glass over Eddie’s head, but Billy showed up out of nowhere and kicked him in the back, sending the asshole flying right into Steve’s awaiting fist. The guy’s body crashed into a table, shattering glasses, and making the other patrons scatter.

“You better leave this one for me, Harrington,” Billy smiled and wiggled his tongue. “Wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours.”

Billy was helping them, and that was a twist you hadn’t expected. Perhaps it wasn’t so much for them as for himself, since you could tell Billy had been looking for a fight all night.

Steve got one of the other guys in a choke hold and began to drag him outside. Billy made wide eyes at one of the leftover trouble makers and charged after him, making the guy shriek like he was about to pee his pants before running from the building.

While the one Eddie had been punched was babbling at the foot of unconsciousness on the ground, he took hold of the one with the close-set eyes and the thick neck who had rubbed your leg first.

Eddie had been watching, and quick to cut off before the end of the song to jump down from the stage in a blinding rage.

Devlin held you loosely by the arms, but you shook him off, and stood next to Shana and Erika, continuing to keep your distance for the sake of Eddie and Steve’s peace of mind, and wincing each time one of the other dudes took a hard hit from one of the Coffin Kings.

Eddie took the guy by the shirt and sent a punch into his stomach. Mister Thick Neck doubled over but then Eddie took him by the throat and slammed him into the nearest wall. Eddie had his fist winding back for a punch when Steve shouted his name to get his attention.

The rest of the dickheads had been escorted outside by a few Hell’s Belle’s, while the rest of the crowd kept their distance. You saw Charlene in the far corner, touching up her lipstick in a compact mirror, seemingly unphased by it all.

“Not in here,” Steve pleaded with Eddie, breathlessly. “Like you said.”

Eddie’s eyes were black and cold like that of a shark. His mouth trembled with the urge to actually bite into the guy’s face, to mutilate him with his bare teeth and make him beg for mercy.

Eddie banged the guy's body into the brick wall again, locking him there with his forearm. “Apologize to my girl,” he growled.

The buzz cut guy coughed and struggled, having a hard time breathing. “I don’t know who your girl is, man,” he was only able to squeak out a mild protest under the pressure of Eddie’s grip.

“Your waitress,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth.

The guy against the wall tried to turn his head to look for you, but Eddie squeezed his face. “You don’t get to look at her,” Eddie fumed. “Just say you’re sorry.”

Multiple desperate “sorry’s” followed, and then Eddie told Steve to get the guy’s wallet to take all of the cash out. A quick count said there was about a hundred bucks.

“That’ll be her tip,” Eddie announced, dragging him by the shirt collar to take him outside with the rest.

They were all told to empty their wallets of their cash, and Steve made a scene of noting the addresses on their driver’s licenses.

“I have a memory like a steel trap,” Steve lied, pointing to his temple, grabbing the guy in the red and white polo by the side of his neck, getting up in his face. “If you so much as walk by this place ever again, or tell the cops about this, you’ll see me in your nightmares. Now, get the fuck out of here before I call your mommies.”

You sank in next to Eddie’s side just outside the main entrance, and he put his arm around you. “Will things ever calm down around here?” You asked with a heavy sigh, watching the broken group scurry and limp away down the street.

Eddie gave a low laugh and hugged you a bit tighter. “God, I hope so, baby.”

Divine Filth started another song, to try and get things back to normal, and most of the crowd returned to their drinks as if there had not been actual bloodshed just five minutes ago.

No one but Shana heard the phone next to the cash register ring over the sound of the music, but after a few seconds, she shrugged by you and Eddie to stick her head out and scan the sidewalk.

"Steve?" She craned her neck to look for him.

"Yeah, that's me," he came from around the back side of the door, flicking his cigarette, knuckles split and bloody again.

"Some guy named Dustin called," she said, merely passing on a message. "He said Suzie just went into labor."

-----

Love love you all for cheering this story on, hope you enjoyed this one. Your thoughts and reblogs are appreciated and cherished.

-----

@whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @kurdtbean@dandelionnfluff @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc @angietherose @sllooney @writinginthetwilight @moonbeamsandmayhem @brianamunson92 @joannamuns9n @bellalillyrose @alba8688 @chevelle724

#eddie being protective thooo <333 lovelovelove hiiim #fic rec

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eddiemunson-fanfic · 5 months

Text

I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!reader

Part 16: All Along the Watchtower

series masterlist playlist

18+ONLY

There is a lot of healing in this chapter, some smut and allusions to smut, alcohol consumption, lots of love, but also some new characters drop into the scene and there will be some angst at the end. If you have come this far in the story, you know what to expect. There will be song lyrics from the band Tool. Steve with an OC character. Mention of healing wounds, a dead body, chemo treatments, and plenty of unprotected sex.

word count: 6.8k

a/n: I mentioned in a post the other day that, instead of 2 final chapters of 10-11k, that I'd be splitting them up and doing four more posts with less words, so there will be several more parts to come. I know it's been almost 2 months since the last chapter, but I'm looking forward to giving this most of my attention for the rest of the year. I have so much love for those of you who are still with me.

"There must be some kind of way outta here Said the joker to the thief There's too much confusion I can't get no relief..."

-- Jimi Hendrix, All Along the Watchtower

The aftermath of everything that conspired in the parking lot that night was a whirlwind.

There were way too many witnesses for the cops not to get involved, but there was also an underlying mutual respect for an outlaw level of revenge justice when someone hurts one of your own. When bystanders and club members were questioned as to who made the final killshot, there was a contagious memory loss that made everyone shrug and shake their heads.

Collectively, no one saw anything.

Everyone saw Wayne, but also—no they did not.

Wayne was going through chemo treatments and hadn’t been an active member of the club for years; no one in law enforcement would ever expect him to be involved, and everyone silently agreed to keep it that way.

Charlene caught a stray bullet in the shoulder, and even lied straight-faced to the police about what had happened. She waited for someone to blame her, somehow, for Craig’s death, but no one pointed fingers, they all just acted like their memories had been erased. Inside the ambulance on the gurney, she caught Steve looking across the parking lot at her just before the EMT’s shut the doors. His expression remained unresponsive, but he stood and watched the vehicle leave the premises before turning to limp over to Astrid’s truck.

Steve was not in great shape, either, and he almost fell twice when he first tried to stand. Robin caught him on the second stumble and had him brace his arm around her shoulders. The EMT’s tried to get Steve to the hospital, but he refused. Partially because he hated hospitals, and also because there’s no way he could afford a meat wagon escort, let alone whatever bill he racked up while in their care. A handful of ibuprofen, a bag of frozen peas, and some patched together magic from Astrid’s medical bag would have to do.

Before the medics arrived, Eddie grabbed his leather jacket out of one of the saddlebags on his bike and had it wrapped around your shoulders as he pinned you close to him with both arms, as tight as he could without hurting you. “Baby baby baby I’m here, I’m here…never gonna let you go…” he hushed it over and over, trying to calm himself as much as you. You found his eyes were wet when he tipped your chin up gently with his finger, pressing kisses across your skin that was sprinkled with dried blood. He parted your mouth with his tongue, just slightly, letting it graze your top lip. His voice trembled when he said he loved you before sealing the words with another soft kiss.

Still observing from the steps of the hotel, Melanie watched the interaction between you and Eddie, and the realization that he would never be hers ever again finally sank in, hitting the pit of her stomach like a lead weight.

Eddie sat next to you on the back of Hopper’s Bronco and held your hand while you told the Chief about your abduction. Anger curled Eddie’s lip when you recited the horrific events, and his eyes narrowed on Craig getting zipped into a body bag, wishing it were possible to kill someone for a second time.

You sprained your ankle, and had a few surface cuts and bruises, but most of your trauma was internal. You told Eddie you were fine, but he wouldn’t rest until the EMT’s checked you out.

Eddie got the shower temperature at your place just right before helping you in with him so that he could gently wash the blood from your face and shampoo your hair. He took his time soaping every part of you; even had you put all of your weight on him so he could clean your feet with meticulous precision, being extra careful with your bad ankle. He wanted every trace of Craig and all that had happened to be washed away. You swept his wet hair back from his face as he stood to full height, and wrapped your arms around his neck to bring his forehead to yours.

Things got slippery and before you knew it, you were moving Eddie’s hand down between your legs as the steam rose up around you. He didn’t think you’d be ready, not after such a traumatic experience, but then he could feel the slick that had nothing to do with shower water. He ran his big, calloused fingers through your folds, and then worked that button at the top of your slit until it hardened under his fingertips.

You clung to him, letting go of erotic sighs between deep, sensual kisses that felt like you needed each other’s oxygen to survive. “I’ve missed you so much,” you said into the crook of his neck, grabbing the hard curve of his cock to pump at the tip.

“Let me take care of you, baby,” he hushed, dipping two of his fingers inside to give your muscles something to clench around.

A few deep thrusts and then he spun you around, holding you tight so that you wouldn’t slip. The fingers of one hand found your clit again, rolling in circles there, while his other hand came up to cup your breast and pluck at your nipple. You shuddered and tilted your head back so he could suck and nibble at your throat.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you mine.”

You writhed in his arms, reaching back to hold his head, while his fingers kept pace and your cunt fluttered. You could feel your knees giving way.

“That’s right, my baby, give it all to me.”

“Fuck!” One more whimper and the orgasm shattered you, making you tremble and sink against him. The thought never occurred to you that you would fall because he had you locked so tight in his embrace.

His hard length rested between your asscheeks, and you turned around to take it into your hand and face him. He held your chin and found your mouth again, pitching his hips into your hand until ropes of his cum were shooting against your leg and into the tub. You took the head of his cock and rubbed it along your slit to spread his seed there, and then took your fingers into your mouth and sucked them clean. Eddie groaned at the sight, grabbing your face again to kiss you long and hard.

The rest of the sex that night was slow and tender, full of breathy words of devotion as your bodies met and became one. Fingers laced, and your legs wrapped around him. Eddie rolled his hips so that you could feel every inch of him inside of you, and you matched his movements, watching his eyes flutter before they opened to meet yours again, lips grazing. For a moment, it was hard to tell where he ended and you began, and you wanted to stay like that forever.

Even though Craig was gone, Eddie was still reluctant to leave you, and he came by several times a day while he was working the tow truck. He brought you soup from the diner, and picked up a potted plant, because he didn’t want you to have to watch flowers die in a vase. He even got special tuna treats for Charlie and stopped off to rent videos for you to watch with you on the couch after he showered and returned from his place.

Besides the time it took to talk to Katie and let her know what happened before she went over to Robin’s, Eddie was the only person you interacted with for the week before it was time to go back to work. You tried to return sooner, but Shana refused. You needed the loud music and the crowds of the Velvet Hammer, they were such a welcome distraction from your thoughts.

It was a part of Eddie’s routine to buy groceries for Wayne every so often, now that he didn’t have as much energy because of chemo, much like Wayne used to do for him back when he was a kid, and his dad would disappear for months at a time. You pulled together the ingredients for one of your grandmother’s favorite casserole dishes and made dinner for them both at the trailer one night, sipping on wine, and listening to your boyfriend and his uncle reminisce on stories from back in the day.

You were taking everyone’s dishes to the sink when you heard Wayne say to Eddie, “that one is a keeper,” and it made your eyes water, for whatever reason. Maybe because you know how much his uncle’s opinion meant to him.

—----

Steve had to be back at work the same night as you, and an hour before, Astrid straddled his lap in one of her silk robes to apply some ointment on his face while he ran his scarred hands up and down her bare thighs. Her skin was soft and smelled of cocoa butter, and her long, curly hair draped over their shoulders like a curtain to keep them safe.

“Don’t punch anyone tonight, okay?” She whispered, scooping hair behind his ear as she tended to the ugly gash on his cheek under the ugly yellow coloring around his eye. “Your fingers need a chance to heal.”

Steve had been at her place on and off since the incident. He’d stay the night, and then be up before the crack of dawn to be back at the house when Oliver woke up. For the first time ever, he canceled a few tattoo appointments so that he could get the rest that the girls had been begging him to take. He hated not having something to do; it made him bounce his knee and grind his teeth so that the muscles in his jaw bulged.

Steve worked a piece of gum inside his mouth and took in Astrid’s face from under hooded eyes, scooting her hips flush to his body, digging his fingers into the meat of her thighs. “Why don’t you come by and see me tonight? I’ll buy you a drink. Maybe I’ll put you on the sink in the bathroom and have some fun like old times.”

One side of her full mouth lifted in a grin. “Tempting,” she leaned in to touch her nose to his. “But I think I might sit this one out.”

“You can sit it out on my face, sugar,” he brought the bright green gum between his front teeth and held it there until she took the chewed piece into her own mouth.

“We’ll see,” and then she slid off of him, resisting his tug on her arm to pull her back down.

He rolled his head along the back of the couch, watching her walk behind him. “Can I at least have my gum back?”

“No,” she answered flatly, disappearing into the kitchen.

—-----

You and Eddie rolled up to the Velvet Hammer just after Steve, and he was finishing a smoke, still straddling his bike in the parking lot when he offered you a raised eyebrow and a two-finger wave. Eddie slid into the spot next to him, facing the red brick exterior, and shut the engine off, planting his feet on either side to keep the beast steady.

“What is this? Bring your old man to work day?” Steve snaked his tongue out over his bottom lip, exhaling smoke from his nose. He had his sunglasses pushed up on his head, squinting against the glow of the sunset, one arm crossed over his chest.

You giggled to yourself while you dismounted, pulling your leg through to avoid the sissy bar that had been at your back. You were used to Steve and his banter. If he was teasing you, it meant he cared about you; it was a bit of a rite of passage. He’d never admit it out loud, but you were special to him now—you were family, and he would look after you like he looked after his own.

“Well,” Eddie took his helmet off and tucked some hair behind his ear, giving his friend a pointed look. “I hear that the security here really sucks.”

“I told him he didn’t have to babysit me tonight,” you piped up, adjusting the backpack on your shoulder that had all of your work clothes inside. Eddie curled his fingers at you, asking for your helmet, so you passed it to him. “But, what can I say? He’s growing on me,” and then you pressed up against his chest, making him puff air out of his nose at the sudden contact, and you kissed the side of his neck.

“I’ll grow for you sweetheart, if you keep it up,” he mumbled.

Steve snorted and threw the butt of his smoke to the pavement. A wave of sudden melancholy washed over him at the sight of the two of you.

He’d been battling with himself the past few days, fighting the urge to call Charlene, to make sure she was okay, even though he hated her guts for what she’d tried to do to his family and everyone else. There was a deep pit of loneliness in her, and when he’d stared into the void, the void had stared back. He recognized a part of himself in her, like a dark foreshadowing for his life 15 years down the road. A life of jumping from partner to partner, trying to gather every crumb of attention because he refused to let one person love him. He told himself that Robin and Oliver were all he needed, but one day Robin would have her own life with a partner, perhaps with Katie, and Oliver would move out and become his own person. He thought about Astrid, and how his mere presence in her life held her back from finding someone who could commit to her and give her the comfortable life she deserved.

“See you inside, freaks,” Steve pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes and favored his right leg with a hitch and a hop on his way to the building, making his wallet chain bounce out to the side.

“Should he be riding his motorcycle with that bad leg?” You asked with your mouth on the leather of Eddie’s shoulder.

“Probably not,” Eddie breathed, watching his friend go. “But you can’t tell Steve shit.”

Eddie escorted you to the back door in the alley and waited for you to be inside before he went around to the front to take the bar entrance. He didn’t plan to stay the whole night, he’d leave for a bit in the middle of your shift and go do some work a the shop, but the fear of losing you—as he had so many people in his life—was still lingering like barbs in his heart, and he only hoped you didn’t get tired of him being around all the time.

In the narrow locker room, you shared a space with Jackie who was also getting ready for her shift. She hugged you violently, and it startled you, because she was not prone to physical displays of affection.

“Bitch, you had me scared to death,” she gushed. “I almost puked from relief when they said you were okay.”

She had her heels on and her already tall, voluptuous frame towered over you. “I missed you too, hooker,” you gave a lopsided grin once she stepped back to look at your face, noting the healing cuts over your lip and eyebrow. “You think my battle scars will milk some extra tips out of people tonight?”

The comment made Jackie scoff a laugh, but her eyes were glossy with emotion, giving a few light squeezes to your shoulders. “You sure you’re good to work tonight? I know Shana would let me cover for you.”

You heaved a long sigh and clanked the metal of your locker open. “The last thing I need is to be at home with my wheels spinning for another night.” Everyone was treating you like glass, and all you wanted was to feel normal again.

Even though you were relieved that the terror that Craig had put you through in your life was finally over, you mourned his death in your own way. He had a mother and a sister out there somewhere who loved him very much and would be devastated by his passing. You’d also never watched someone get shot and killed right in front of you before, and you hoped that you never had to see such a thing again.

Jackie adjusted her red and black Velvet Hammer cap sleeve tee that was tucked into her leather miniskirt, and moved over to apply her maroon lipstick in the mirror, making her mouth into an O shape. The music from the main room was loud when someone opened the hallway door to head over to the kitchen. “That guy John was here asking about you the other day. Remember the big tipper who wanted to be your sugar daddy?”

“I think so,” You said it absently, as if you weren’t sure, pulling your tiny red shorts up your legs.

“He came in alone, sat at the bar for a drink, and I overheard him asking about you, if you were okay,” she unzipped her purse and dug through it. “I guess he heard about what happened.”

Yes, you imagined that he had heard about what happened. You wondered how much Charlene had told him.

Jackie punched her beige time card into the machine on the wall and you followed suit, deep in thought over why John was trying to track you down at the Hammer instead of calling you on the phone.

“Honestly, I’ve missed the fuck out of you,” Jackie said over her shoulder, pulling open the hallway door to the sea of cigarette smoke and the song Wave of Mutilation by The Pixies. “The new girl gets on my nerves.”

You barely had time to ask who the new girl was before a familiar face framed by a platinum blonde bob stood in your path wearing a matching shirt with a tray full of what looked like Jägermeister shots.

It was Erika.

“Oh, you must be the new girl,” you were a bit flustered, but on your list of worries, she was very low. You could tell she was nervous to see you, and wobbled the tray, chewing her gum nervously.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said in a rush. “That I got a job here, I mean. My sister is friends with Shana and I really needed the money because—-”

You shook your head and gave her a genuine smile that harbored no animosity. “Of course I don’t mind,” you shuffled around her to get to the bar, thinking about how she seemed a bit afraid of you, and there was no need to be. “Did you say hi to Eddie? He’s here.” You reached around to tie a short apron with pockets around your hips.

Her mouth gaped like a dying fish a few times. “Well, I, no…not yet…I mean, I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t mind,” you glanced up and caught Eddie’s eye at the bar. You thought about all of the obstacles, all of the crap life had tried to throw your way to tear the two of you apart, and you’d both weathered the storm to find you were closer than ever. You trusted Eddie with your life, and you knew that he only had eyes for you—he proved it to you every day.

“I wanted you to know that what you did the other night was really badass,” Erika leaned in, eyes sparkling when they met yours. And there it was, an understanding, a mutual truce, an unlikely friendship broadening on the horizon.

Well, a friendship was unlikely, but a truce, at least.

You didn’t know how to take the compliment, but you thanked her, and told her that you liked her earrings, and then you winked at Eddie before heading over to check on your first table. He was at the bar having a Coke and talking to Thumper, who was also a patron that evening, and you could see that he was nodding, pretending to hear what his friend was saying, but all the while, his attention kept shifting to you.

It was one of the last warm nights before the fall weather hit, and so Steve was sitting on his stool out on the pavement, propping the door open with the weight of his back. He surprised himself by realizing he wasn’t in a flirtatious mood. A few hotties who smelled like heaven were basically ready to gobble him up if he let them, but he barely gave their ID’s a glance and waved them through.

He had a thick rubber band from the cash register that he was playing with, stretching it wide with his thumbs. Caught up in one of his daydreams, the rubber band accidentally shot out and almost nailed the person who was stepping up onto the sidewalk.

Astrid ducked just in time for it to zing through her hair instead of nailing her cheek.

Steve experienced a bolt of recognition a second too late and was on his feet, almost knocking the stool over. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry,” but then she started laughing, and they were both smiling when they kissed, teeth knocking together.

She took two steps back so that his eyes could drink her in; the dark maroon dress with a slit up the thigh and generous scoop neck, it was one of her many handmade pieces to make room for her ample hips and hourglass shape. Instead of a shawl, she had on a jean jacket this time, fingers and ears adorned in subtle gold jewelry.

He pushed some thick curls away from her face and planted his lips on her forehead as he spoke. “I missed you.”

“You just saw me a few hours ago,” she tilted her head back to lock her dark eyes onto his. “I came to make sure you behave yourself.”

His smile was rueful—dangerous, even. He wiped his tongue over the point of his gold tooth. “You can’t come here in a dress like that and expect me to behave, sweetheart.”

A group of partiers went to try and stumble through the door, but Steve was quick to shove his hand against the doorframe, blocking them with his tattooed arm. “Need to see ID’s first,” his tone was suddenly that of gruff, tough bouncer Steve, and not the sweet little loverboy from a few seconds ago.

Once he’d given them all a stern look, he hurried back to grab for Astrid’s hands again, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. “What’s your poison tonight darlin’? Just tell Shana to put it on my tab.”

She wasn’t about to let Steve pay for her drinks, but she nodded. He tucked a padded stool from the bar just inside the door close to him while she was ordering her gin and tonic, giving Eddie a shoulder squeeze as she waited. When she looked over at Steve again, he patted the seat a few times eagerly so that she would know where to go.

—-------

A while later, as the bar filled up, Eddie was moving his head to the beat of the Muddy Waters tune “I’m your hoochie coochie man” when you came over to give him a back scratch and tuck his hair so you could smooch his ear. The 1958 film The Crawling Eye was playing on the screen above the bar.

“What do you say? Can I be your hoochie coochie man, babe?” he muttered. And then, dropping his gaze to his drink he added softly: “My mom loved Muddy Waters.”

One of the many layers you had yet to peel back on the onion of Eddie Munson was his relationship, or lack thereof, with his mother. You always got the feeling that he didn’t want to talk about it, but more and more, you could feel him opening up on the subject and referencing her, wanting to finally let you know more about that facet of his life. From Robin you knew that she passed away when he was young, but that was the extent of it.

“Your mom had good taste,” you tipped his chin so that he could see your sincerity. “I wish I could’ve met her.”

“Me too,” he blinked his glossy chocolate eyes a few times and took a hard gulp. “I think I might head over to the garage for a couple hours, but I’ll be back to pick you up.”

“You should stay,” Shana, sporting a freshly shaved head and a new tattoo just above her ear, slapped the flat of her hand on the wood of the bar in front of him to get his attention, and then she gestured to the stage. “Divine Filth is playing tonight.”

You could tell that finding out that one of the local bands, Divine Filth, was playing at the Hammer was a welcome surprise for Eddie when you saw his face light up. They were another metal/rock band from a few towns over, you found out, and one of his friends was the lead singer. They’d played dozens of shows with Corroded Coffin over the years, and Eddie used to play lead on a few songs with them.

“They just got back from Pedal to the Metal,” Shana continued. Even you knew that Pedal to the Metal was a huge 3-day rock festival that happened every year up near Chicago, and even Eddie’s band had played there once.

You saw that Eddie was contemplating the news, and weighing his options, gnawing on his bottom lip. You decided to slide down closer, resting your elbow on the bar. “Can’t whatever you have to do at the garage wait? Or maybe one of the guys can handle it? I’d love for you to stay.”

His eyes snapped to yours, and his response was quick. “Yeah, I mean, I’ll stay if you want me to.”

That was all he ever wanted, for you to tell him what you needed. For you to say that you needed him.

You put your forehead to his, fingers twirling in the baby hairs at his neckline. “Stay and be my hoochie coochie man.”

He mouthed a few words to the song against your lips before sinking in for a kiss.

Then, he pushed his soda aside and ordered a beer. Thumper caught wind that he suddenly had a drinking buddy and gave the signal for two shots of “their finest”.

—-----

Meanwhile, at the other end of town, Katie was at Robin’s again. She’d been staying there every night since it all happened. Partly to give you and Eddie some space, but also, on her trip, she’d realized that she didn’t want to be away from her girlfriend any longer than she had to.

She was in love, like head over heels, for the first time in her adult life.

Once Oliver was fast asleep in his bedroom, the two were hustling to take their clothes off, gushing words of love in breathy whispers in the dark, needing to be as close together as possible. Robin was three fingers deep when Katie admitted that she’d never loved anyone this much before, and it made Robin go still, to ask her if she meant it, and to tell her she felt the same.

After their orgasms, Robin was straddling Katie’s lap, tasting her own release on her girlfriend’s tongue, when she decided to finally open up about what had been on her mind lately.

She’d meant to work it into conversation, but instead, she blurted it: “Do you want to move in here? With me…with us?” Her mouth dried up after she asked it, wondering if it was too soon, too ridiculous. She swallowed hard, making a click noise in her throat. “I talked to Steve about it. I haven’t talked to Oliver yet, but I will.”

Katie bucked her hips up so that their swollen lips brushed together, still dripping with cum. She was quiet as she let the idea sink in.

Robin tucked some hair behind her ear and glanced down, reading her silence wrong. “I know it’s not a huge house, and we only have the one bathroom, and I get that it’s not very glamorous to shack up with a woman who already has a kid and a life partner. But I think that I, I think that we, could—”

“You know I’m not the glamorous type,” the other woman interrupted, catching Robin’s chin to run her thumb along her bottom lip. She locked eyes with her. “We could always get a bigger house one day, down the road, all of us. I’m not worried about that.”

“So, you’ll think about it down the road, maybe?”

“Robs, I don’t want to spend another night without you in my bed.”

“You don’t?” She was surprised, but also, not sure if she’d answered her yet or not.

Other than her brother Dan who lived across the country, and a mother she’d never been close with, Katie had rarely known the comforts of family, but she had found what she’d always been missing within the cleave of the Harrington-Buckley clan. It wasn’t a living situation that would suit everyone, but the idea of making a life in that corner of the world had her insides glowing. She’d need to discuss it with you, and give you plenty of notice if you were okay with it. The way things were going with you and Eddie, Katie had a good feeling that the two of you were considering the same merging of households, anyway.

“I’d understand if you didn’t want to. I know this is an unconventional situation, and I wouldn’t blame you for—”

Katie cut her off and put her hands on either side of Robin’s face. Her words bubbled in her chest, a smile soft on her lips. The “yes” she spoke was followed by a nudge of the nose, a suck on her bottom lip, and then she was repeating it over and over as Robin pushed her to the bed and got on top of her.

—--------

You were able to catch the way Eddie’s demeanor softened once he started to relax and ease into the evening. He was laughing at Thumper’s theatrics, chuckling so hard, the apples of his cheeks turned pink. Steve led Astrid by the hand to one of the only two bathrooms at one point, and the next thing you knew, there was a line of 3 or 4 people waiting to use it, so you had to give the door a polite knock, loud enough to be heard over the Jimi Hendrix song that was playing.

Astrid came out adjusting her dress, with no lipstick on, and Steve followed, wiping his mouth suspiciously, and palming the bulge in his jeans. He chuckled at the way your head was cocked, and mumbled a cheeky, “I was on my break,” before heading back to his stool.

When the members of Divine Filth showed up from the back entrance with their instruments, you could tell who the lead singer was immediately; she had a distinct presence. She was small but poised, hair dyed black with one side of her head shaved, and the other side long down to her shoulders. She had on leather pants and a ripped shirt cropped at her waist, with tattoos on her biceps.

She looked around the room, taking stock of the place as the other members went to set up. You were standing to full height after setting some drinks down at a table full of Hell’s Belles when you watched her spot Eddie.

She let out a squeal and headed over to him with a bounce in her step. Eddie sprang off of his stool to return her embrace, lifting her up off her feet in an enthusiastic hug. The second her feet touched the ground again, Eddie was waving you over, wanting to introduce you.

“This is my girl,” he pulled you flush to his side the second you were within arms reach. “Baby, this is my friend Nancy, the lead singer of Divine Filth.”

Nancy Wheeler stuck her hand out for you to shake and told you that she’d already heard a lot about you.

“Yeah, from who?” Eddie was curious because it had been almost a year since he’d talked to Nancy.

“Robin,” she said, and of course, Eddie should have known. She shrugged, “we catch up every now and then. Steve gave me some new ink a few months ago.”

There was melancholy in her voice, and you’d find out later that Robin and Nancy had a brief thing once, back in high school, back when they were always in detention together for destroying school property. Nancy was a pyro in her own right. She had fond memories of letting Steve practice tattooing on both her and Robin in her parents basement while drinking beers they stole from the QuikMart.

“Robin couldn’t make it out tonight,” Eddie let her know in a cautious tone, wondering if she’d had her hopes up.

“Oh I know, she told me,” she said in a rush. “She’s with someone and she’s happy and I’m happy for her.” And if she wasn’t, I’d do something about it, she thought to herself.

You couldn’t tell if she meant every word, or if she was trying to convince herself as she spoke them.

“So, big boy,” Nancy put a hand on her hip, wanting to change the subject, and raised an eyebrow at Eddie, clapping him on the arm. “You going to grace us with your presence on stage tonight?”

Eddie immediately started shaking his head to decline, but you were quick to turn to him with those wide, hopeful eyes, and it made him pause. “Maybe,” he mused, noting your intense interest, and then turned his attention back to Nancy. “My girl has never seen me play before.”

“No shit?” Nancy was genuinely surprised, jaw going slack. “Dude, your man kills it up there. He’s got star power, and I wish he’d get his head out of his ass and come out to do more shows with us.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a little thing called running your own business, and I don’t recommend it,” Eddie grumbled, as one hand reached for the next beer Thumper was passing him and the other smoothed circles on your back.

There were tables waiting, and more people coming in, so you excused yourself and snaked your arm out from around Eddie. He took hold of the back of your neck and guided you back to kiss the side of your head one more time before you were out of reach again.

There was one dancer shimmying down the pole to the song Stinkfist by Tool, and it was the last performance of the evening before Divine Filth started their set. Nancy was up on the stage riser helping to situate things where she wanted them, and the tips were flowing into your pockets just as fast as patrons were knocking back shots. The front door that had once been propped open by Steve’s body was shut now, locking the bar in a dim, red glow, billowing in a smog of nicotine fumes.

“… Just not enough, I need more

Nothing seems to satisfy

I said, I don't want it, I just need it

To breathe, to feel, to know I'm alive…”

Astrid had gone home by then, and Thumper was casually watching the door as Steve made his way over to see Nancy, and every time the door opened, you took a deep breath of the fresh air, trying to clean out your lungs. This time, when you felt the gush of cool breeze flush your skin, you were on the way across the room with a drink order, and you absently looked up to see who was coming in.

“… Finger deep within the borderline

Show me that you love me and that we belong together

Relax, turn around and take my hand…”

You stopped in your tracks when you saw who it was, one foot paused in the air behind you, mid-stride.

There, silhouetted against the backdrop of the street, stood Charlene.

The black bodysuit she had on made her look like Sandy from Grease, but her shoulder was wrapped in a bandage, and standing next to her was a guy in a red shirt, jeans, a wallet chain, and a leather MC kutte with the insignia for Lucifer’s Own on it. He was maybe 30, looked like a blonde version of Rob Lowe, and he had his elbow out for Charlene to hold onto.

Now, you didn’t know all of the politics about biker etiquette, or any “turf” battles like they sang and danced about in musicals, but it was well known that the Hammer was a Coffin Kings bar, and you’d never seen another insignia step foot in the door, other than Hell’s Belles and Eastside Reapers, since you’d started working there.

Thumper caught sight of the guy who had just come in the door and spun on his stool, about to stand up, but Eddie snatched his arm, and you were sure he stiffly told him to sit back down. Eddie found your eyes over a few shoulders that were pressed together in the crowd, and you exchanged a weary look of disbelief.

The blonde biker gave Thumper a feral grin, wiggling the tip of his tongue between his teeth. Charlene seemed more reserved than normal, not as full of herself, and she was very preoccupied with searching the sea of bodies.

You had a good feeling who she was looking for.

You were glad that Erika was there to motion them over to a table that she had just cleaned off. It was in the corner, further away from the bar.

You were just about to go over to ask Eddie who Charlene was with when a customer blocked your path and gave you a multiple drink order out of the blue, and you had to tell them to give you a second while you caught your bearings.

Now you were trying to see where Steve was, to play interference, but it was too late.

“… I can help you change

Tired moments into pleasure

Say the word and we'll be

Well upon our way

Pain and comfort, deep within you

Till you will not want me any other way...”

You spun on your heel to find that Steve had already spotted the newcomers. You watched the muscles in his face tense, standing with his fists balled at his sides for a few seconds, and then Eddie was there, in his face, pushing him back, trying to get him to keep his cool.

The blonde biker at Charlene’s table put his feet up on the seat next to him and lit a cigarette, seemingly without a care in the world.

“It’s not worth it, man,” Eddie grumbled to Steve, holding his hand on chest. “Let’s just have a good time tonight, forget about them.”

Steve’s eyes were locked in the distance, sunglasses now hooked onto the front of his shirt. “What the fuck is she doing here with Billy Hargrove?”

“Who knows what kind of game she’s playing,” he moved to try and block Steve’s view of them. “Listen, if he crosses a line, we’ll bounce him, otherwise we let it ride, got it? There’s too many eyes on us here tonight to cause a scene, especially after last week.”

In a strange turn of events, Shana, the manager, came out from behind the bar and went over to greet Charlene and her companion. She shook both of their hands, and the two women appeared to know each other.

“...Knuckle deep inside the borderline

This may hurt a little but it's something you'll get used to..."

“Hey,” you squished your way in between some people at the bar, and caught Shana’s attention when she returned. “How do you know those two?”

Shana cracked open a few beer tops as she spoke. “She’s some rich lady, I only met her yesterday. Stephen, one of the owners, sold his share of the Hammer to her and moved to Florida literally in the middle of the night.”

“… I'll keep digging

Till I feel something

Elbow deep inside the borderline

Show me that you love me and that we belong together…”

You made a sour face, trying to understand what Shana was telling you, but then, realization dawned just as she was sharing the final bit of information with you:

“Charlene Gregson is part owner of the Velvet Hammer now.”

Part 17

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I love you all! I have some fun things planned for the few final chapters of this story, I'm even working on a holiday special💗 Your thoughtful commentary and reblogs always mean so much to me.

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Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system @secretdryrose @whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @dandelionnfluff @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc

#god fucking damn it charlene... 😑#fic rec

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eddiemunson-fanfic · 5 months

Text

I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!reader x biker!Steve

Chapter 15: Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck

summary: tensions are high as the last few chapters come to a head. Now that Craig has you, and none of the gang knows where you are, panic ensues. Eddie has to deal with an unwanted interaction with an ex, while Steve finds out the truth about Charlene. Astrid gets a bad feeling and thinks Steve might be hurt, meanwhile you decide to take matters into your own hands and deal with Craig in order to escape. wc: 10.7k

masterlist playlist

WARNINGS: 18+ONLY, angst, a gun, typical series violence, gunshots, reader being held against her will, abusive ex, stabbing, hand to hand combat, some violence toward women (which I do not condone under any circumstances), manipulation, dark themes, reader fights back, revenge, hurt and comfort, sex with someone other than reader (not Eddie), premonitions, murder, being chased, aggression. protective!eddie, protective!steve, slightly gigolo!steve. Header photo is not meant to be reader.

author's note: In this chapter, I'm making up for the fact that 90's tow truck driver Eddie and the rest of the MC would've had beepers, but, alas, I failed to mention them before. I've been staring at this for so long now, I need to post it. Really hope you enjoy, and I look forward to hearing what you all think.

"It ought to be easy, ought to be simple enough Man meets a woman and they fall in love But this house is haunted and the ride gets rough you’ve got to learn to live with what you can’t rise above If you want to ride on down in through this tunnel of love."

Tunnel of Love, Bruce Springsteen

-------

(This chapter starts of exactly where part 14 ended)

Just as Robin was about to reach out and catch Steve’s elbow, the bride, Daphne, jumped in front of her.

“You made it! I’m so happy I could cry!” Daphne hugged her tight and, over her shoulder, Robin watched Steve and Charlene disappear into the crowd, helplessly. The wedding was packed, but she was sure she could find him as soon as she was done with a polite chat.

She figured there wasn’t anything too bad that could happen in five minutes.

A minute or two into acting interested in the conversation Daphne and one of her bridesmaids was having, Robin turned around to gesture at you—to make the introductions—-but you were nowhere to be found. Daphne talked for a bit longer and Robin pretended to listen, but she was distracted, and the bad feeling in her gut was making her fidgety.

Good Vibrations by Marky Mark and The Funky Bunch ended, quickly to be replaced by What I Am by Edie Brickell, and Robin excused herself to go and look for you, apologizing to the bride profusely. Telling Steve that Charlene was an obsessive psycho didn’t feel as important in that moment—-she knew Steve could handle himself. But you? You were being stalked by a notoriously abusive ex and now Robin had no idea where you were. She should not have run off like that without you, and now she was kicking herself.

As Robin turned on her heel trying to spot you in the crowded lobby, Steve and Charlene were about to bypass the people on the dancefloor and make their way up to the hotel room. Steve didn’t know what was happening, at first, when she made the bold move of grabbing his hand in the crowd and pulling him closer.

“Hey, hey now,” he said in her ear over the twang of the music. “Should we be doing that where people can see us?”

Charlene sent her hand down to massage his cock, and then she leaned in and licked his earlobe. “I don’t care anymore,” she replied, leading him out of the low-lit reception hall and down the hallway.

Steve didn’t really know what that meant, and he hoped she wasn’t getting the wrong idea. If she wanted to flush her marriage down the toilet—-awesome—-but Steve didn’t want to be the reason. He had no intention to continue to see her after that evening, unless she was paying him, and he had every intention of making that clear in the elevator, but then she was on her knees with his cock in her mouth and he forgot what he was going to say.

—----------

Eddie rumbled into the parking lot on his chopper, ignoring the valet as he tried to tell him which way to go. He parked as close as he could to the building, sliding in next to a limousine, even though there was no parking space there, and gave a blank stare to the guys who were about to try and ask him to move it.

He yanked the main door open, eyes darting around the people in the lobby. He had no idea where to start looking for you, and that filled him with a frustration that made a growl escape his chest. The crease in his forehead softened when he felt two arms go around him from behind, but then one glance down at the hands, and he knew it wasn’t you.

“What the—” the relief he felt at the idea of turning around to kiss you was abruptly stifled.

“Hey baby,” Melanie cooed. She reached up to brush his bangs off his forehead like she used to in the old days, but Eddie moved his head away and blocked her hand.

He looked around before leaning forward to whisper curtly, “you just can’t take a hint, can you?”

Melanie settled back, bracketing her hands on either side of her hips. She had on an impossibly short, sequined lime green dress with dark red lipstick and it looked like she should’ve been on a stripper pole, not at a wedding. “Why do you hate me so much, Eddie? I gave you the best years of my life, the least you could do is be civil with me.”

Eddie frowned, moving to walk by her.

“Please, Eddie!” She screamed it, catching his arm.

Eddie hitched his shoulders up to his ears in frustration, cringing at the way so many people turned to stare at him. He moved in a circle, checking the crowd for you as he went, and then came back to face Melanie with weary reluctance.

“What do you want from me, Mel?” He asked, hoping it would be a quick fix so he could continue on with his night.

Melanie slid the tip of her tongue along her top lip. “Listen, I know I hurt you, okay? I know it was bad. But I’m a totally different person now, I’ve changed.”

Eddie cocked his head. “Good for you. What does that have to do with me?”

“Let me prove it to you,” she reached for his arm again and he let her hold it this time, hoping to speed things along. “Have a drink with me and let’s talk. I really miss you, Eddie,” she could tell he was about to interrupt and she put her hand up to stop him. “You told me once that I was the love of your life, that you’d never love anyone more than me, and I know a part of you meant it.”

Eddie cringed at the memory of the young, impressionable boy he was back then, so pussy drunk that he didn’t know which end was up. Did he mean it when he said it back then? Yes, from the bottom of his horny soul. Did a part of him still feel the same way? Not a single drop. What he’d felt for Melanie all those years ago paled in comparison to the level of devotion he had for you. He was a man now, determined not to make the same mistakes that plagued him in his boyhood.

Eddie took a deep breath, eyeballing the crowd again. “Okay, listen to me,” he took hold of Melanie’s bare arm, holding her firmly, and tilted his chin down to look her directly in the eye. “What we had has been long over for years now. I don’t know what I’ve done to possibly lead you on to believe there could ever be anything between us ever again, but I need you to get it through your fucking head that I don’t love you anymore. Things will never be like they were. I wish you well, but I don’t want you in my life, even as a friend. I need you to respect this. Nod if you understand.”

“Do you not want me in your life because your new girlfriend will get jealous?” Her mouth fixed in a mischievous grin, as if she’d completely missed the point of everything he just said.

“Fucking, goddamn it Melanie,” Eddie hissed, and then he ran both of his hands through his hair and gripped his fingers in at the roots, snapping his eyes shut to try and calm his frustration. “I can’t do this right now, I’ve got more important shit going on,” he shook his head and dropped his hands, turning to head in the opposite direction. “We’re done, totally done. Forever. I don’t want to ever see you again, Mel. Don’t call, don’t show up. Just go back to wherever and stay there. Have a nice life.”

He was a few steps away when she shouted to get his attention again. “I know where your girl is, if that’s who you’re looking for,” she had her arms crossed and a bored expression on her face when he turned to regard her again. “She left with some dude, if that means anything to you. They were holding each other pretty close and if you ask me—-”

But the last word got caught in her throat as Eddie barreled down on her, gripping her arms so tight, his rings pinched her flesh. He shook her a few times, making her eyes go wide. “You’re hurting me!” She balked.

“Tell me where they went,” he spoke with so much force, he accidentally spit on her.

—----

Robin caught sight of Eddie and started to make her way to the other side of the lobby, relieved, but then she saw who Eddie was talking to.

She made a face and stopped in her tracks for a beat. “Melanie?” She asked it to herself, under her breath. Robin knew she was the last person on earth Eddie would want to see, let alone be standing in such close proximity to. Eddie started to walk away, but then he turned back around and grabbed Melanie with a force that made Robin gasp. He could be a violent person, sure, but never with women, and it worried her to think of what she might’ve said to him.

Everyone was getting drunker and more oblivious to the people around them, so she worked hard to maneuver her way through the clueless party goers as What is Love by Haddaway jolted from the dance hall.

“Hey, Eddie!” She cupped her hand over one side of her mouth to shout it, but then she watched helplessly from a distance as Eddie and Melanie went down the hall and disappeared from view. What the hell was he doing with her—where the fuck were they going?

—-----

Craig had a room in the hotel, and that is where he took you.

As much as you were afraid of Craig, you also knew how to handle him in situations like this. To fight him, to argue with him, would only make things worse. He wasn’t the type to feel much empathy for any of the pain others felt; his pain and emotional distress were the only things that mattered. If you fought him, or if you tried to run, he wouldn’t hesitate to terrorize your friends. The thought made you shiver—you couldn’t let him get his hands on anyone else. He could take whatever he wanted from you in exchange for their peace.

Craig was also extremely stupid, and as long as you placated and went along with him—you’d have more time to think about your next move instead of struggling and wasting your energy. You didn’t put it past him to drug you and throw you in the back of his SUV, so you put on your Academy Award winning “this is fine” face while your mind raced for a plan.

Once he closed the door to his hotel room and put the deadbolt on, he took you in his arms, pulling you in for an embrace. “Ahh, now–isn’t this nice?”

You nodded against his shoulder as your eyes darted around for something sharp. “It really is. I’m glad you came to find me.”

He pulled away to smile down at you; thin lips stretching to expose perfectly white teeth. “See, now, there’s my girl,” he tipped your chin with the crook of his finger and then planted a kiss on your forehead.

You were sure he brought you up there to have sex with you, and the thought made your stomach churn—-you were prepared to rip his balls off before that happened. Craig was really strong though, and he could kill a man twice your size with his bare hands, so you had to find a way to battle with your wits.

“Have a seat,” he motioned to the bed in front of the TV, and then he grabbed the remote. “You wanna check and see what is on pay per view? We can order room service. Are you hungry?”

Such normal questions for such an abnormal and unfortunate situation.

You sat down cautiously, keeping your back stiff and straight. You noticed a huge black duffel bag sitting on the floor, and it looked like the type of thing he usually carried all of his weapons in.

“This is okay,” you gestured to the episode of Three’s Company that popped on.

He handed you the remote as he bent down to kiss your temple. “I’m going to wash my hands. Stay here, alright?”

You gave him a wink. “Of course I’ll stay here, sugar plum. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He sighed, offering a dreaming expression. “I’ve missed you so much, it hurts.”

“That’s sweet,” you offered, turning your attention back to the tv as he went around the corner to the bathroom. You got up and walked slowly to the window to see what you could see, talking to him all the while to keep him satiated. “I could definitely eat. Maybe room service wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

You held the rod and slid the curtain open a few inches, realizing you were above the middle section of the parking lot. Could you see your car from there? You didn’t have time to check; it was too dark and you heard the water shut off in the bathroom.

“Tsk, tsk,” he said, stepping back out into the hall so he could see you as he dried his hands off. “Step back from the window, honey, I don’t want you to ruin our fun with one of your clever ideas.”

“Oh I was just curious,” you were casual about it, making a point to leave the curtain open a bit. “If any of my friends were looking for me.”

“Oh they might try,” he undid the buttons on the cuffs of his white dress shirt and rolled up each sleeve, exposing faded military tattoos on his forearms. “But I booked this room under an alias. Plus, no one saw us leave, so your friends will be scrambling around like chickens with their heads cut off.” He emphasized the word “friends” in a sarcastic way, as if they weren’t that at all.

“I’m sure they’ll just think I went home,” you said, which was the furthest from the truth. You thought about Robin going crazy trying to find you. You wouldn’t be surprised if she worked her way up every floor, knocking on every door.

He sat down on the bed next to you with a bounce and took your hand, lifting it up to kiss the back of it. “Have I told you yet how beautiful you are tonight?”

“A few times,” you couldn’t help but lean away when he came in closer. “You told me downstairs and in the elevator.”

He wrapped his arm around the side of your hip and pulled you to him. “C’mon now, give daddy some sugar,” he cooed, diving his lips in for another attempt.

But you dodged him again. You could feel yourself blowing it, and you knew you needed to comply in order to find a way out of this, but the thought of being intimate with him made you want to dig your own eyes out with a spoon.

“I don’t know if I’m ready…for that,” you managed. “Too soon, I think. Just give me a little time…to get used to you again.”

Craig grabbed your jaw, squeezing your mouth together so tight, your lips puckered, yanking your head to make you look at him. His eyes were dark now, narrowing on you. His tone was ice cold, “Oh but you’ll kiss him won’t you? That filthy dirty biker? You make me sick.”

You swallowed hard, and in your mind, you considered the ballpoint pen next to the pad of paper on the desk. If you could get a hold of it, you could stab him in the side of the throat.

But, if you made the decision to wound Craig, you had to be willing to go all-in.

You had to be willing to end him.

—-------

Steve waited to cum until he was back in the hotel suite. Charlene got on the bed and sucked him off the rest of the way while she came using the vibrator she carried around in her handbag. It turned Steve on to know that she always had it with her—he’d never been with a woman who was so incredibly sexually charged before.

He came on her face, and then she licked it up and rubbed it down her breasts. They got in the shower together after that, and the thought crossed his mind that he should go down and have a drink with you and Robin, but then his dick took over again and he forgot.

The suite was huge, and while Steve lounged on the sofa in one of their complimentary robes looking over the room service menu, Charlene sat down on the bed to rub lotion on her legs.

She smiled over at him. “The life of leisure looks good on you.”

Steve lifted his arms up and glanced down at himself. “You think? Yeah, I could definitely do with some more of this.” The fridge was fully stocked with booze and sparkling water and other goodies, and Steve had raided it like a little kid at Charlene’s urging. He was on his second fancy beer and third bag of pretzels.

“You should come with me to Greece this winter,” she worked the lotion down around her manicured feet, feeling suddenly too shy to look at him. “My friend has a house there, and we could charter a yacht, play on the beach, eat and fuck until we pass out. And then do it all over again the next day.”

Steve flipped the page on the menu, eyes glancing over the seafood section as he plucked at his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Sounds good. I’ll have my secretary clear my schedule.”

“I’m serious,” she laughed, rolling over onto her stomach to face him, kicking her feet up behind her. “Wouldn’t you like to spend more time with me?”

Steve shut the menu and met her eyes. “Well, sure, I mean, but I can’t just take off for a week to wherever, sweetheart. This man of leisure is living paycheck to paycheck over here.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have to worry about that,” she assured him, resting her chin in her palm. “I’ll pay your rent and whatever else you need. Give you some spending money. You won’t have to pay for anything, unless you want to buy me something pretty.”

“Yeah?” Steve smirked. “What’s the catch, angel? You gonna sell me to the highest bidder for some black-market organ donation once we get there?”

“No catch,” she shook her head. “It’s just hard to find good companionship these days.”

He sucked his bottom lip through his teeth. It all sounded a little too good to be true, but he would be lying if he said the offer wasn’t tempting. Fucking Greece? He’d only been out of the state a few times in his whole life, and it had all been for MC related stuff.

“You could even bring Oliver,” she continued, looking down at the bedspread. “I could pay for a nanny to travel with us, so we could have time alone.”

That made Steve frown, and he searched his mind for how she would know that he had a son, but then the moment passed. He must’ve mentioned him at some point, accidentally.

But Charlene seemed harmless enough. Just a bored housewife with a smoking hot body.

She got off the bed and slinked over to stand next to him. He ran his hand up her leg under her robe until he was able to grab the apple of her ass, and then he spanked it.

“Did you decide what you want from the menu?” She asked, mussing up his hair. “Or we can still go out to dinner if you want.”

Steve tilted his head all the way back to look up at her, letting the menu slip to the ground. “Are you on the menu?” He asked, moving his hand around under the robe until his fingers found where they could sink in.

“For you? Always,” she said, and then she bent down to catch his mouth with hers.

—-------

Eddie had Melanie by the arm, and she tried to jerk out of his grasp, but he was way too strong---way too pissed off.

“And then where did they go?” Eddie was scowling at the numbers on the three different elevators. “Which floor?”

“I SAID I DON’T KNOW,” Melanie hissed, finally wiggling her arm away. “Jesus. I never saw you worry about me like this before.”

“Fuck,” Eddie started to pace. He was losing it, and he didn’t know where to start looking or how to find you. He wanted to rip the whole building down with his bare hands.

Another man’s voice stepped into the equation. “Hey, what the fuck are you doing to her? Leave her alone, you freak.”

Eddie spun around, eyes like daggers. It was some douchebag he didn’t recognize in a tux, even taller than Eddie, with a lime green bow tie and cummerbund, clearly there for the wedding. From the looks the guy was sharing with Melanie, it was probably her date.

“Just stay the fuck out of it, whoever you are,” Eddie warned.

Melanie stepped back with a little smile on her face, enjoying the tension over her that was building.

“I asked you a question, man,” the guy in the tux with the short blonde hair said as he came up behind Eddie to jab his palm into the back of his shoulder.

Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, Eddie turned and swung on the guy.

Robin came into view and screamed, covering her mouth with her hands.

Eddie’s fist was like a brick, and the guy went down hard. The elevator opened and the four people inside yelped as he crashed in, with Eddie in hot pursuit.

Two people rushed out of the elevator, but another couple stood huddled in the back corner, afraid to move. Eddie lurched forward to grab the guy by the front of his coat and yanked him to his feet to pull him out of the compartment just long enough to send a jab to his ribs that made him double over, and then he pushed him down.

The elevator closed again with the frightened passengers still inside. The rest was a blur for Eddie as he got on top of the guy and started wailing on his face.

“Eddie, stop!” Robin tried to grab his arm on the back swing and the force almost knocked her over, but she did not relent. “DINGUS STOP!”

Somehow, the nickname seemed to snap him out of it, and, with a few sharp intakes of breath, Eddie got to his feet, panting, standing over the guy. The dude on the floor was somehow still conscious, but he probably wished he wasn’t one side of his face was mangled where Eddie’s rings broke the skin and there was blood dribbling from his mouth.

There were people gathered at the mouth of the hallway now, watching with slack jaws, and Robin was worried someone had already called the police. “Nothing to see here, people!” She called out, waving her hand, begging them to disperse.

Eddie was about to drop down and punch the guy again—just because—but Robin used all of her strength to forcefully push him back.

Eddie snapped his attention to Melanie and pointed at the guy on the ground. “Is this yours? Both of you get the fuck out of here before I—-”

Robin had only ever seen Steve like this—never Eddie. Normally, he possessed the most patience and composure out of everyone in their friend group.

She slapped him softly on his cheek to get his attention. “Hey, listen to me. I need you to fucking focus right now,” and then she snapped her fingers in the air in front of his face.

Eddie huffed a few heavy breaths out his nose and adjusted his Coffin Kings leather over his white tee. There was a sheen of sweat on his face and a few pieces of his hair clung to his cheek and forehead. Melanie was able to help her date to his feet, and Eddie watched them go with hard eyes and flared nostrils, silently begging the guy to throw him a dirty look or say something stupid. Thankfully, for Robin’s sake, the guy wobbled away with his arm over Melanie’s shoulder without a single glance back.

“Focus,” Robin repeated, snatching his chin. “Your girl is here somewhere, and I can’t find her.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie jerked his head to evade her grasp. “She’s with that fucking psycho and I have no idea where to start looking.” He shut his eyes tight and winced. “I fucked up, Rob. I should’ve killed that guy when I had the chance. Now he has her. If he hurts her, Rob….”

“Hold on,” Robin frowned as she took in the information, her body flushing with guilt. “You know she’s with that Craig creep? How do you know?”

Eddie didn’t want to talk—he wanted to move.

Outside, through the glass front of the building, he watched a police cruiser pull up through the crowd. It did have its lights on, and whoever was driving didn’t seem to be in a hurry, but all the same, he hit a button on the panel and took hold of Robin’s arm, ready to pull her in when the doors slid open. She followed his gaze to the two cops that were now heading into the building, and panic seized her.

It was taking too long for the elevator to come, so when the one across the way opened, they darted there instead.

A woman got out of the elevator as they stepped in and quickly hit the button for one of the higher floors. A delivery driver carrying Chinese food was about to get in with them but decided against it at the last moment.

Once they were alone, Eddie answered her question. “Melanie saw them,” he breathed, falling back against the wall. “The description fits, and she said he had his arm around her,” Eddie cringed. The thought of him touching you made him want to punch something.

“Shit,” Robin said under her breath, feeling the thick weight of uncertainty hang in the confined space around them. “You don’t think he’d actually do anything to her, do you?”

Eddie eyes glazed over and shook his head, concentrating, unable to form words.

“Nice dress, by the way,” he said, referring to the strapless blue number that she now regretted ever buying, let alone wearing.

“Shut up.” She returned.

The doors opened at a floor that wasn’t theirs and Eddie told the two people waiting there to take the next one before he slammed the button again with the side of his fist.

Robin started to gnaw at her thumbnail. “Steve’s here somewhere too,” she let him know. “He came with that Charlene woman, the one you used to bone.”

Eddie froze, giving her an incredulous look. “And you let him?”

She held her arms out, raising her voice. “I just realized who she was a little bit ago. What am I, his fucking keeper? Besides, she offered him so much money to take her to this stupid thing, I don’t think he would’ve cared.”

Oh, Steve would care if he knew the whole story, Eddie thought to himself. And he’d really care if Charlene started targeting his family when he tried to end things with her or move on with someone else.

When the elevator finally dinged and opened at the floor they chose, there stood Steve.

In a white bathrobe carrying a bucket of ice.

With his sunglasses on.

—--------

After being scolded by Craig, you disarmed the situation by pressing your lips to the side of his mouth. “Baby, why don’t you get comfortable so we can snuggle? Like we used to.”

He crawled on top so that you were both on the mattress. You needed to build a decent level of trust with him in a small amount of time and letting him have some intimacy was the quickest way to do that.

He got on his back, with his head on the pillow, and pulled you up alongside him so that your cheek was on his shoulder. He lifted your chin to give you another kiss. “Isn’t this nice?” He asked, rubbing his nose on yours.

“It really is,” you lied.

It took a lot not to try and scratch his face and knee him in the groin right then for what he’d done to you, for what he’d done to Jester. For the pain that Eddie would go through when he couldn’t find you.

But you found your center and took a cleansing breath.

You had formulated a part of a plan, but you had to be patient.

Soon.

—---------

When Steve came back into the penthouse with the extra ice, he didn’t have the patience to wait for room service to bring, he was different, and Charlene noticed it right away.

She could see it in his face, the way he refused to make eye contact with her when she dropped her magazine to her lap to greet him and tell him their dinner was on the way.

Without a word, he grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom.

“Stevie?” She called out to him, anxiety tightening in her chest. “What took you so long? Is everything alright?”

Steve shut the bathroom door first, and then he mumbled, “yeah, I’ll be right out. Just need a second.”

He let his robe fall to the floor and braced his hands on the edge of the sink, naked, letting the information Eddie had just shared with him in the hall absorb. He tossed his sunglasses on the counter, so they skid across and landed against a hand towel folded in the shape of a swan.

He ran the sink and splashed some water on his face, letting himself peek in the mirror at his reflection over the tips of his fingers.

As close as he was with Eddie, they weren’t in the habit of swapping partners, and if Steve had known that Charlene was that “rich, older woman he hung out with once in a while” a few months ago, he never would have gone that far with her in the first place.

Water dripped cool down his tattooed chest as he looked down at his cock, lolling out at the triangle base of the muscular indents at his hips. He patted a finger on the shaft so that it bounced. “I hope you’re proud of yourself,” he whispered to his dick.

Not only was Charlene someone that Eddie had fucked, but she’d also tried to make Eddie’s life a living hell when he tried to move on with you. She’d paid a private investigator to stalk Eddie, tried to break the two of you up, and was the reason you got fired. Eddie warned him not to trust her, and to not let her sink her claws in and try to keep him like a pet.

He put his pants on and wet his fingers to run them through his hair, squaring his shoulders at his reflection, wondering how he’d get the rest of his money out of her. She’d paid half up front, but now he needed the rest, and then he wanted to get the fuck out of there. Eddie and Robin were headed to do some investigating, and he said he’d meet them in the stairwell in about 20 minutes.

Charlene was hovering near the bathroom door when he opened it, and she searched his face for a trace of the person he was before he went to get ice—but it was no longer there.

Her Stevie was gone.

“Hey,” he said as he brushed by her to put his shirt on. He left it unbuttoned as he turned, fixing the collar. “It’s late, I need to get going.”

“But,” Charlene looked around, her mind racing with ways to keep him there. “The food will be here soon.”

He’d been trying not to meet her eyes, but when he did, his stare was frigid. “I’m not hungry anymore. I just need you to pay me the rest of my fee, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

He went to the couch to put his shoes on.

“Steve, please tell me what is going on? I thought we were having a good time, I thought—”

“You thought what?” He asked snidely. “That I’d do all this for free? Out of the goodness of my heart?”

He was about to be a real asshole, but then he remembered that he had enjoyed his time with her, and under different circumstances, he would’ve stayed to fuck her all night even if he wasn’t getting paid. But he had to end it—he needed to cut ties before things turned into a shitshow like they had for you and Eddie. He couldn’t afford that level of drama in his life, not with Robin and Oliver at risk.

She rushed up to him and started kissing his chest. “Can you just stay a few more hours? I don’t know what is bothering you, but I know I can take your mind off of it,” she sank lower, kissing his stomach, about to get on her knees.

“I said no,” he repeated, grabbing her arm to pull her back up to face him.

“But, why—”

“Why didn’t you tell me you used to fuck Eddie?” He blurted, scowling at he ground.

A hard swallow clicked in her throat as she searched his eyes. “I-I didn’t think it would matter. Eddie and I aren’t—”

“Is that why you bailed me out of jail? Was it all part of your maniacal plan to get back at him or some shit?”

“Absolutely not. Steve, I really care about y—” she reached out to touch his face, but he moved away, stepping further back. He looked hurt and confused and disgusted all at once.

“Don’t act like you give a shit about me,” he warned. “I don’t think you’re even capable of caring about other people.”

At that, she bristled, and her cheeks burned red. She froze so still that, if not for her blinking, one might have thought she’d turned to stone.

“You know what? Forget the rest of the fucking money,” he walked to the nightstand and put his wallet in his back pocket. “It’s not worth it to me anymore. I’ll chalk it up to a couple orgasms and a free meal.”

Charlene did not respond, she only wet her lips as her eyes stayed fixed on one spot on the carpet.

He went over and paused his hand on his jacket that was hanging over the back of the couch. “Actually, I could probably sell this suit and makeup the difference so yeah—we’re even.”

When Charlene finally spoke up, her voice was different; it had an edge to it. “You’re awfully ungrateful for someone who should be on their knees thanking me.”

Steve chuckled a low laugh. “Listen, baby, the sex was great, I’ll give you that, but it wasn’t that great.”

“I’m not talking about the sex,” she turned and tilted her chin up at him. “I’m talking about how you still have custody of your son and he’s not several states away with Tina right now.”

Now, it was Steve’s time to turn to stone.

When he finally blinked, he made a face like he was staring into the sun. “What the fuck did you just say? How do you know about my son? About Tina?”

Charlene would’ve said anything to make him stay, and she was oddly pleased that this did the trick.

She shrugged. “I know that it didn’t take much money at all to get Tina to come here and cause some trouble. Shame she signed her parental rights away, but there are always ways around that, considering how much blood you have on your hands.”

Steve reeled back, almost knocked off his feet at the weight of the confession. He had to grab onto the back of the chair at the writing desk to steady himself as his head swam. Bile rose in his throat as if we were about to puke.

“You’re the reason I almost lost my son?” He whispered it, overwhelmed with the realization that Charlene was to blame for all of it: Every disaster that had befallen them since the day Eddie met you. All of the pain, all of the worry, all of the sleepless nights.

Charlene folded her arms over her chest. “If you think I can’t prove you have blood on your hands, try me.” Her eyebrows darted up a few times. “Eddie too. He left a bloody fingerprint at the crime scene when he killed a man in my driveway. All I ever do is try to keep the two of you safe, and this is the thanks I get?”

Steve’s mind barely had time to register that his body was moving—-he knocked the chair to the ground and lunged after Charlene.

His hands were around her throat so fast she could barely take a gasp of air at the end of her sentence. He took her to the ground, slamming her into the floor. She coughed and her eyes bulged.

“You tried to take my son away from me?” He was shaking; his eyes bloodshot with rage, but also wet with emotions. His lower lip trembled, and his face was beet red.

She held onto his wrists where he was choking her, sputtering, trying to catch air. She squirmed underneath him, but if her knees made contact with his stomach or groin, he couldn’t feel it.

"Kill me," she gasped, and Steve released his grip a little but did not relent.

“I should kill you,” He hissed, searching her face. He realized then that she had her hands locked on his wrists to keep him there, not to push him away.

“Please,” she wheezed. “Please…kill me.”

With a string of curses, Steve pushed off of her and jumped back, planting his arm on the edge of the coffee table to steady himself as he tried to collect himself.

Charlene sucked in a few gulps of air and stayed on the floor where she was.

Steve wobbled and stumbled a bit as he stood, trying to catch his footing. He looked down at his trembling hands, and then over at Charlene.

“I'm sorry,” he breathed. It took a few sold moment to find his composure. “Listen, stay away from me, stay away from my family. Stay away from my friends. I won't tell you again.”

It had taken all of his strength to not crush her windpipe just then, and he hated that about himself. He hated that, on top of everything else, Charlene was the reason he’d laid hands on a woman in anger for the first time in his life. Wayne and Robin would be very disappointed in him, no matter the circumstances.

His son would be disappointed in him.

“Steve,” Charlene rolled over onto her side. “Please don't go."

He fixed his collar again and left the jacket. He grabbed his smokes, and fumbled the lighter, trying to compose himself. The thought occurred to him that he should go over and help her up and make sure she was okay, but then he remembered…then he remembered all of it.

Without another word, he left. Once he was out, and the door clicked shut behind him, she continued to shout his name and tell him she was sorry. He could hear things being thrown around the room; the sound of glass breaking as it hit the wall. Steve kept a quick pace, only faltering once to shoulder check his balance against the wall, dizzy, but was already in the stairwell as her declarations of remorse echoed down the hall.

—----

Craig ordered Chinese food from the restaurant up the street and had it delivered. For a second you thought you might be able to get word to the delivery driver that you were being kept there against your will, but what would the delivery driver do? Get himself killed, probably, or pretend like he never saw you because who in their right mind would want to get mixed up in that?

It may have taken 20 minutes to eat your meal, but for you it might as well have been hours. He liked to coach you on how big your bites should be and how long you should chew your food. If you chewed too loudly or too fast, it would agitate him, and he’d stop you to make you start over.

It was all you could do to muscle down each bite when you weren’t even hungry, and it took every ounce of your willpower not to scream.

The fortune cookies were interesting because the paper inside yours said “this too shall pass”, while Craig’s was blank.

“I’ve never seen a blank one before,” you said nonchalantly, closing the lid on your take-out container. You could see the inconsistency was bothering him; he kept turning the paper over as if he’d missed it somehow. With his obsessive personality, you expected him to call up the restaurant and ask for another cookie.

But, he decided to let that one go and tossed the blank fortune into the pastick sack that the food came in.

You knew he’d want to clean up the area right away and sanitize the table again, so you took your opportunity.

“Can I use the bathroom?” You stood up, picking a piece of sticky rice off of your dress.

“May I,” he corrected, pushing his chair back exactly where it had been before he sat down. He lifted his eyebrow at you. “May I use the bathroom is the proper way to ask that.”

Your throat was tight as you swallowed, biting back a rage that was surely bubbling in your eyes. You forced a smile that cracked your cheeks. “May I?”

“Of course you may, silly goose,” he walked over to brush his finger along your cheek just before he leaned in, and your nostrils flared at the unwanted touch. “Don’t take too long. I’ll miss you,” he cooed after he pecked you on the lips.

Safely in the privacy of the bathroom, you locked the door quietly and gave a long, silent scream into your palms. Tears jerked at your eyes and mouth, but you sucked them back, squaring your shoulders.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, wondering if you had the guts to do what needed to be done.

If you didn’t already have the guts, you needed to find them—fast.

You’d asked Craig earlier what the plan was, and he’d made it very clear that he was taking you back to your place the next day so that you could pack your things and then return with him to Michigan. He casually mentioned that he knew where Oliver was spending the night—-just throwing out small details he thought you should know. In case you fought or refused to leave with him.

You realized now that he would never stop coming for you, not while he was alive.

You turned the faucet on so that the noises you were making wouldn’t be so obvious as you went to work unwrapping the soaps and scattering things around the countertop. You flipped all of the towels on the wrack around and unfolded them, making them as messy as possible. You got the bottoms of your shoes wet and made a bunch of dirty footprints around the floor tile. You relieved yourself quickly on the toilet, but then yanked some off the toilet paper down so that it pooled on the floor.

“Hey, pumpkin?” You called out to him over the sound of the toilet flushing. “Do you have some toothpaste I can borrow?”

He came over to the door and tried the handle. “There’s some in that black bag by the sink. Why is this door locked? Please put the cap back on properly when you are finished.”

You waited a few beats before unzipping the small, black bag, quickly eyeing for anything else you could use but, toenails clippers and a toothbrush weren’t great weapons. Unless you had time to widdle the end of the toothbrush into a shank like they do in prison. You put the cap of the toothpaste back on, but you left everything on the counter.

Before you opened the door, you moved the bathmat so it was crooked as it hung over the side of the tub, and you unhooked the shower curtain from two of the rings.

“Ahh,” you said as you exited, looking refreshed. “Much better.”

He was just walking to put the trash outside in the hall when you took the initiative to hug him. “I think I made a bit of a mess in there, baby. Sorry about that.”

When he shut the hallway door again, he came to flick the light on in the bathroom and his shoulders fell, his face pinching tight. “This is unexceptable,” he mumbled.

You took note that he forgot to dead bolt the front door in his haste.

You could hear him cursing you under his breath, but also knew that he wouldn’t be unable to function until he tidied up that room and put everything back exactly the way it was.

“Sorry lover,” you yelled, sweetly, turning the sound on the tv up. It was an episode of Golden Girls this time. “I was going to take a shower but decided not to.”

He had to shut the bathroom door in order to fix the shower curtain, and that was when you hurried to grab the red lipstick out of your purse. With your heart racing so fast you thought it might explode, you eased back the curtain to the window over the parking lot and wrote on the glass with the lipstick, and then you gently pulled the cream colored curtain back in place so that it didn’t make any sound as it skidded along the rod.

Craig opened the bathroom door again, but he would be cleaning and organizing for a while—so you forced a fake laugh over something that happened in the show, to make him believe you were just chilling, and then you grabbed the ball point pen you’d noticed earlier and put it in your back pocket. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. You made a mental note to always carry at least a pocket knife or pepper spray with you at all times.

Wait….

You suddenly remembered the travel-size can of aerosol deodorant you’d put in your clutch for Robin because it wouldn’t fit in hers.

You took that out, and tucked it under the covers.

At the last second, Craig stuck his head out to see where you were, and you just happened to be relaxing on the bed with your head cradled in your hand, face lit up with amusement at the screen.

—------

Alone at her place, on the way from the kitchen to the living room with a mug of tea in her hand, Astrid felt a pain shoot through her heart that was so sudden, she dropped the mug and it shattered to pieces on the laminate floor. She clutched her chest and swallowed back the taste of bile, trying to steady herself, bracing her hand on the stove.

After a few deep breaths, the flash of agony subsided, and a glance up at the clock told her that Steve was probably still at the wedding.

Her head swam, and her ears went blind as if her head was submerged in water.

A gun shot?

The thought occurred to her, but then it passed.

Was she experiencing another one of the symptoms of the strange connection she had with Steve ever since they were kids? Or was she having a panic attack of her own? She’d been thinking about the tarot reading she’d done for him; the warnings she’d been moved to share with him.

And then that charming, goofy grin he’d flashed her as he came in for a kiss, making light of her sudden and deep concern.

Driven by some type of inexplicable instinct, she stepped over the broken ceramic, toed into her shoes, and grabbed the keys to her old truck, hoping the engine didn’t fail her this time.

She also hoped, for some unspecified reason, that she wasn’t too late.

Too late for what, she wasn’t sure.

—-------

“First things first,” Robin paced in the stairwell between the 3 and 4th floors while Eddie gnawed at his lip, his arms crossed stiffly over his chest. “I’ll go down and see if I can find out from the front desk which room Craig is staying in.”

“They’re not just gonna hand that information over to you, Rob,” Eddie bit, trying not to take his frustration out on her. His own mind was racing, not only because of you, but also at the thought that Charlene had crossed yet another line and was trying to fuck with his friend. He couldn’t worry about Steve though—he had to trust that he would take the information he’d given him and do what needed to be done for that situation.

It was then that Eddie’s beeper went off, echoing off the walls.

He unclipped it from his belt to check it and found that it was from Wayne.

Alerts on his beeper from Wayne that were not during business hours always made his heart stop for a second.

“Shit, I gotta find a phone,” he mumbled.

Robin started taking the stairs down, motioning for him to follow. “We can sneak around to the payphones in the lobby. This way.”

Turns out, the cops weren’t there for Eddie, they had just been strolling by to check on the event. Robin batted her eyes at the guy at the front desk and asked for a peppermint while Eddie checked out the scene.

Wayne wanted to let him know that Bones and the rest of the Coffin Kings were on their way.

Eddie leaned against the payphone as Wayne advised him to wait for the rest of the MC before he made a move; it wasn’t safe to go up against a guy like Craig alone.

“Be careful, son,” Wayne told him.

“Take your meds and get some rest,” Eddie returned, which was just another way to say ‘I love you’.

“You need me there?” Wayne asked. “You need me to go and check on the boy?”

Eddie looked across the lobby at Robin who was on her way back with a handful of red and white peppermints wrapped in plastic and her tongue out in a goofy expression.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Eddie murmured. “Check on Oliver just in case. He’s with his friend Paul at Raina’s.”

He also knew that Wayne was much like him, and in a situation like this—he needed something to occupy himself so that he didn’t go mad.

He hung the black phone back onto the receiver and let Robin feed a round candy into his mouth; he started chewing right away instead of sucking on it, crunching down so hard his jaw clicked. He didn’t want to think what Craig was capable of now that he had you all alone, all to himself.

What if he put his hands on you? What if he….what if….

Eddie growled in frustration and punched the cement wall.

He hissed in pain, knuckles zinging, and then flapped his hand in the air.

“I need to go slash that fuckers tires so he can’t go anywhere,” Eddie told Robin, and she nodded; agreeing.

They told Steve to meet them down in the parking lot, and now they’d have more muscle as the rest of the kings rolled in.

But Eddie was losing patience, and—even worse—he worried he was losing you.

—------

Craig was in a bad mood when he was done cleaning the bathroom, and you knew he would be—but it was a price you were willing to pay.

He turned the TV off and stood in front of him, glaring down his nose at you.

“What have you been up to while I’ve been busy cleaning up your mess?”

You sat up and batted your eyelashes a few times. “I’ve just been missing you, that’s all.”

His open hand slap came hard and fast across your face and it stung like hell.

Your eyes were watering as you slowly brought your head back to face him again.

“Are you done being a little pig?”

You sucked in your bottom lip, nodding. “Yes.”

You winced, because you thought he was going to slap you again, but he grabbed your chin like he’d done before and squeezed, making your mouth pucker. “Say you promise.”

“I promise, baby. I promise.”

“Good,” he released you. “Now we can finally enjoy our evening.”

You sank from the bed and got to your knees in front of him, and his hooded eyes followed your every move.

“If I can’t be a pig, can I be a whore?” You purred, moving to unfasten his belt buckle.

“You are such a fucking whore,” he hissed. “And you know how much I hate whores.”

You undid the button and pulled down the zipper. He groaned a little as he watched you reach inside his boxers to pull his cock out. He tilted his head back, feeling your warm breath on the tip as you stroked him and he pushed his pants further.

“Fuck yeah,” he said to the ceiling. “Suck me dry like the whore that you are.”

You spit on the tip and jerked him a few more times, unwilling to touch him with your mouth, as you reached around for the pen in your back pocket and clicked the point out.

“Yes, baby,” you whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

On the next breath, you jabbed the pen up into his balls as fast and as hard as you could.

In that first second or two, while he was still in shock, wailing, you stabbed him with it a few more times.

Jab jab jab

Blood gushed out and he fell to the ground whimpering screams that could not be fully formed inside the crushing pain.

He clutched his wound and rolled over, giving you enough time to scamper away. He lurched for you as you darted across the bed, thinking you wanted to grab for the deodorant spray, but then you just said fuck it and let out a feral yell as you dropped down with your knee in his face, and then you brought the pen down again....

You were aiming for his eyeball--hopefully his brain---but it stabbed into his cheek instead.

His scream was so piercing, you thought it might break the window

Was he dead or going to die? Probably not, but this was your only chance to get away and you had to take it. You ran as fast as you could, fumbling at the handle of the door as you heard his shrill, gurgled moans behind you.

—------

Steve found his way down the stairwell and stopped to take a breather. He’d been walking awhile, and his adrenaline was through the roof, so he paused to lean against the railing and light a cigarette.

“Son of a bitch,” he said on the exhale as smoke billowed out, and then he wet his lips. The worst part about finding out what Charlene did, was that Steve had honestly started to like her. He felt like he’d been tricked into dubious consent because he never would’ve let himself have any feelings if he’d known even half of the truth. He put two fingers to his throat to check his pulse, certain that he was in the middle of a panic attack. The nicotine did its job to calm him down, it also got him to slow down and breathe, if only to support his habit.

His attention perked up again when he heard a scream and a thump coming from the floor above, and then more screaming, as if some dude was being murdered.

—-----

On the highway, Astrid struggled to catch her breath, and the constriction in her chest made her swerve into the gravel and fishtail before she righted the truck again while the duet Jackson by Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash played through static on the radio.

She could see the lights of the hotel up ahead through the trees.

—-----

Eddie found Craig’s SUV in the parking lot and stabbed its tires with his utility knife, thinking he should have one of the guys bring the tow truck around and impound the fucker. Robin tried to open the doors and cupped her hands around her eyes to see what was inside.

Behind them, a car was pulling in off the highway; the headlights behind them cast their shadows over the pavement.

they heard the brakes squeal to a halt and a woman yelped.

Eddie’s attention went to the side of the building and he caught sight of something scrawled in red on one of the windows.

—-----

You turned a corner at the end of the hall and ran like the devil was on your heels, passed several vending machines and a pool, until you broke through into a dark stairwell and made your way down on foot.

You were afraid to look back.

The fear of hearing him enter the stairwell behind you had you in such a hurry that you tripped twice and caught yourself. You were barefoot, and you were pretty sure you’d stepped on a thumbtack or some glass because the pad of your left foot stung like hell, but it did not slow you down.

You wiped something wet out of your eye with your arm, assuming it was blood, and regretted that you didn't stay to make sure you killed him like you knew you should have.

In that moment, as you stumbled down the stairs afraid for your life, you felt like going to prison for such a thing would've been worth it.

You finally shot out into the night air and took a deep breath.

You came out around the backside of the hotel, where there wasn’t much illumination but for three lights up high on a ledge. You only paused for a second, but kept going, passing dumpsters and an employee entrance before you caught sight of the highway and headlights making their way onto the property.

—-------

Charlene darted from the hotel and out into the street, desperate to find Steve to explain, to let him know she regretted all of it, without looking where she was going. Before one of the valets could stop her, she almost got hit by an old truck cruising in at twice the speed it should have.

Only a hair away from the grille, she turned to throw the driver a dirty look.

Astrid was startled as well, but with her foot on the brake, and her eyes locked on Charene, she revved the engine.

—-------

When Craig stumbled into the elevator with a dark stain seeping through the crotch of his denim and a punctured face oozing blood, everyone in the compartment cleared out, muffling their screams as they went.

He heaved and grunted and thumbed the button for the lobby as he scowled down the hall at nothing while the doors slid shut.

He had two loaded guns shoved in the waistband of his jeans and he intended to use them.

—-----

Eddie stepped closer to read what it said on the window with a tilt of his head. It read: “Eddie I love u” and it was written backwards so that it could be legible from out where he was, not inside the room.

“Baby,” he whispered with a catch in his throat.

Forgetting about everything else he was doing, and the chaos that was going on, he took note of which floor that was and started to book it back inside, but then that was when you came into sight, limping around the shadowy corner.

You had blood spatter on your face, and your dress was ripped. It also looked like you hurt your foot somehow and your face broke into a sob the moment you saw him.

—------

Astrid parked her truck right where it was, with the headlights still on as she got out to find out where the boys were. She grabbed a shovel out of the bed in case she needed to use it as a weapon.

She was about to say something to Charlene when they heard the gunshot and both women ducked down, shoulders pressed together behind the side of the truck.

—-----

Craig exited the building on a rampage—not caring who saw him or what it looked like as he shot a bullet into the air.

He stepped out between you and Eddie, and you called out to him.

“I’m right here, Craig,” you said, stepping further into the light from the shadows. “Please just, leave them be. I’ll go with you wherever.”

Craig turned to give you a sneer of a grin, his white teeth now pink from all of the blood in his mouth.

“Oh, honey, it’s too late for that.”

You locked eyes with Eddie across the way and he started towards you, ready to breech the gap, regardless of the consequences as Craig turned the gun on him.

Eddie kept his pace, getting closer. “You better be ready to use that, man, before I get my hands on you.”

With Craigs finger hot on the trigger, there was a sudden yell from somewhere in the bushes as Steve flew out of nowhere and tackled Craig to the ground. Eddie took that split second to get over to you, to hold your face and make sure you were okay.

The gun went off again, but the two were a tangled mess on the ground. Steve beat Craig’s skull into the pavement a few times, and jammed his thumb into the once good eye, but Craig clocked him with the butt of the gun and it stunned him for a second.

It all happened so fast.

Steve was able to crack Craig’s hand against the ground and he lost his grip on the gun, and it skidded away, out of reach.

There were motorcycles thundering near in the distance as Craig yanked the other gun from his waistband and shuffled back to take aim.

Eddie spread his arms out and moved in front of you to act as a shield..

And then there was a gunshot from somewhere else, but the bullet only skimmed Craig’s shoulder. He yowled, but he did not faulter.

Charlene tried to aim at his skull for a second one with trembling hands, but Craig turned the gun on her and Astrid before she could, and he got a shot it, just before Steve reared up to take him to the ground again. The struggle turned them over several times, but then in a blink, Steve was on his back again, but he was able to wrestle the other weapon from Craig.

Craig reared up to bring his fist down into Steve’s face just as Astrid was about to bring the business end of the shovel down on his head---

but then there was a shotgun blast from out of the dark.

Blast…click…Blast…click…Blast

You ran up behind Eddie and put your arms around him.

Craig’s body spasmed in the air where he knelt above Steve as the power of the shots knocked him back.

There were smoking holes blown through his head and his chest.

With one final, open-mouthed pause against the beam of the headlights, and a choked gurgle, Craig’s dead body slumped to the ground.

Panting, Steve unsheathed his knife and got to his knees; ready for more just in case.

Everyone’s eyes followed the line of fire to the source.

And there was Wayne.

He stepped out of the shadows in his Coffin King's denim kutte with “Uncle” on the front pocket, lowering the double barrel. He tipped his chin to both of the boys and squared his shoulders.

A crowd had gathered from inside, including the bride, and the woman who had just caught the bouquet, and Melanie. Even Erika was there as someone’s date. They whispered to each other as Craig’s blood pooled into a little river on the uneven pavement and made its way to the gutter.

From inside Astrid’s truck, the chorus to the song I’m on Fire by Bruce Springsteen was eventually drowned out by the fierce rumble of motorcycles as the entire MC entered the parking lot and flanked the scene.

Part 16

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whoa, who knew this would be such a family affair when this fic first started? This world has come to mean so much to me, and I'm so grateful to those of you still riding along.

As always, your comments mean the world, and, if you enjoyed it---reblog it---because it's the only way this fic will ever be seen by anyone but us 🧡

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#finallyyyyy!!! STAY DEAD MOTHERFUCKERRRRR #fic rec

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eddiemunson-fanfic · 5 months

Text

I'm on Fire

Part 14: The Drama You've Been Craving

summary: this chapter is sexy and intense! You and Eddie both have obsessive exes on your heels just as the entire Coffin Kings MC is given a reason to take down Craig. You and Eddie are glued at the hip until work and life split you apart and you realize you aren't as safe as you thought. Steve takes his new benefactress to a wedding, but you and Robin show up to warn him--even though it might be too late. wc: 10.3K

Series Masterlist

18+ONLY, mature themes, smut, angst, mention of a consensual bdsm relationship, typical series violence, a stalker, high speed chase, a death, mention of sex with someone other than reader, reader is threatened, everyone is a possible target.

authors note: I want some things to be a surprise, but if you've been following this story---you know the vibe to expect. That being said, this chapter and the next are VERY fast paced, full of angst, tension, and a sense of everyone on edge. If this is not your thing, I totally understand. This story started out as a tow truck driver who just happened to be in a Motorcycle Club, but it has morphed into a full-blown biker drama. A new character is introduced at The Velvet Hammer who will be Steve's love interest in a side fic I'm working on! I love you, enjoy the ride ❤️

"You feed it once, and now it stays

Now, it stays

You tear me open but beware

There's things inside without a care

And the dirt still stains me."

-- Until it Sleeps, Metallica

---------

Eddie stayed with you that night, knowing that Craig had broken into your place, and Katie went to be with Robin, so the two of you had the duplex to yourselves. Eddie put the deadbolt on both of the doors and blocked under the doorknob with kitchen chairs, and then the two of you took a shower together. He soaped your back with care, and it wasn’t long before you felt both of his hands at your hips as his hard length rocked back and forth along your slit from behind.

“Again?” You gave him a glance over your shoulder, a bit in disbelief. This would be the fourth time in less than two hours.

“You’re right,” he mumbled, continuing to saw his hips slowly while the water sprayed and the steam rose. “I should stop, huh?” He wrapped an arm around your throat and pulled you back to suck your earlobe into his mouth while his other hand found your clit.

“You’re a maniac,” the last word was a gasp as his tongue twirled in your ear and your hand skidded down the wet tile wall.

You were so stressed about Craig, and letting Eddie fuck you senseless was the only thing that gave you a bit of relief. The orgasms wiped your mind clean, if only for a few moments, and you wondered how many he could give you before the night was over and you could succumb to sleep. Craig was always there, in the back of your mind now, creeping around your place, stalking your house from across the street---god forbid he was stalking your friends.

Just as Eddie had you bent forward to slide his tip in, and you begged for him to go deeper, the phone rang.

“Shit,” Eddie hissed. The shower stream blasted against his neck, dripping down his nose and hair as he watched his cock stretch you out.

Your eyes shot open and you stiffened. “Wait, I need to get that,” you straightened, reluctantly forcing his cock to pop out.

On any other day, under any other circumstances, Eddie would have coaxed you to ignore it, but the current Craig situation had everyone on edge. His nerves were fried with how bad he wanted to hammer the nails into your stalker’s coffin, but he was doing all he could to remain calm for you. He didn’t want you to see him frazzled and amped up and storming through town kicking down doors like he wanted to.

Plus, he also didn’t want to let you out of his sight.

Eddie swatted your bare butt as you stepped out onto the mat and pulled a towel around you.

“Hey,” he yelled as he finished washing your conditioner out of his hair. “That ass is mine.”

“Sure, sure,” you mumbled, snorting at his constant eagerness. Your feet made wet imprints on the carpet as you crossed over to the phone on the nightstand by your bed.

Eddie was just about to ask if he should turn the water off or if you were getting back in when he heard your voice crack. “Baby? It’s for you.”

Eddie jerked the lavender curtain back and wiped his eyes. Your face was pinched with worry, your legs still dripping wet below the towel.

“Who is it? Steve?” But then his stomach dropped as he asked it, knowing it was something bad just by the look on your face.

You shook your head. “I didn’t catch her name, but she’s really upset,” you came in close to whisper to him as he turned the shower off, your eyes searching his.

“She said that someone named Jester was just murdered.”

------

Eddie sat down on the couch with a huff and bent over to tie his boots furiously, hair dripping wet, heart racing with adrenaline.

Goddamn it, Jester, Eddie murmured under his breath. He should’ve called Eddie, he should’ve waited, like Eddie fucking asked him to. Shari said the guy at her motel matched the description of Craig, and Jester went over there to check it out; two hours later, his Coffin King brother was found in the parking lot with a broken neck. Jester was just a kid, barely 23, and he’d just patched over from being a Prospect only a few months ago.

Fuck, Eddie was pissed. The anger pumped so hot in his veins that he had to shake his head a few times so that he could see straight.

You were dressed now, but haphazardly so; your tee shirt was on inside out and the first pair of sweats you pulled out of the drawer had a blue paint stain on the thigh. You were biting your pinky nail down to the quick as you stood back against the kitchen island watching Eddie. You knew Craig had something to do with this---you knew it in the depths of your soul---but Eddie wouldn’t tell you any of the details. He said he needed to go down and check it out for himself.

He said he’d be right back.

He told you to keep everything locked and lodge the chair under the door when he left.

But you didn’t want to let him out of your sight, not with your maniac ex on the loose. You weren’t even worried about yourself, you were more concerned with Eddie riding out there in the dark to the motel all alone.

You’d met Jester once; his real name was Aaron, and he was young but he was big and strong, and one of the guys who ran the fights said he had the skill to be the next War Machine.

“Should you call Hopper?” You watched him lace his other boot while you gnawed another nail off.

Eddie frowned. “What the hell is he going to do about it?” He spat. “Besides, he’s probably already down there, making shit harder for me.”

“You think it was Craig, don’t you? The one who murdered Jester?”

Eddie took a long breath and sat there bent over for a second, eyes on the carpet. “I don’t know anything right now baby, that’s why I need to---”

You bent down to put your shoes on.

“Hey, I told you to wait here, please,” Eddie stood up, adjusted his belt and wallet chain, and came over to take you by the shoulders. You tried to shrug away, but he found your eyes, grabbing you by the chin so you would look at him. Piece of hair were sticking to his cheeks, still wet from the shower.“I don’t know what I’ll be rolling up on down there. I can’t risk it being a situation where you might get hurt.”

Your eyes were hot with defiant tears. “Well, what if this was just a ploy so you would leave me here alone, did you ever think of that? Hmm? These chairs blocking the doors are cute, but they won’t stop him, I think you know that.”

Fuck, he hadn’t thought of that. Eddie’s blood rage was making him sloppy; he had to get his head on straight.

You could tell that your words had nudged him and the gears in his head were clicking in your favor.

You continued to pull the bill up on your converse to slide your foot in. “Like you said, the cops will be there, and probably a bunch of other people rubbernecking, and he’s not going to do anything out in the open, even if he does see me.” You squatted down to tie them as quickly as you could.

You stood up, breathless, and swallowed hard. “I’m not staying here like live bait. If you leave without me, I’ll get in my car and follow.”

Eddie’s nostrils flared, assessing you from under hooded eyes, but in the end—-he knew you were right. You snatched your helmet from the dresser in your bedroom and went out to straddle your man on the bike like a pro as it yielded to your weight. Eddie smiled a little to himself as you adjusted yourself behind him, remembering how shy you’d been about riding in the beginning. With your arms secure around him and your chin pinned at his shoulder, the bike growled out onto the main road from the street. You glanced around in the bushes on the sidewalk, expecting to see Craig’s face looming in the shadows.

—---------

The police had the area between the motel and the gas station taped off, protecting the crime scene, and Jester’s body was gone, but his bike was still there by the gas station, tipped over onto his side, his helmet was a few feet away. There were 3 patrol cars, the Sheriff’s bronco, and an ambulance, plus a crowd of people from the motel, and one woman was crying while the other one held her. A few of the Coffin Kings including the patch President Bones, and Thumper were already there, hanging back, arms crossed, wondering who would do this, and how they could find him before the police did.

You checked around, squinting into the crowd as you dismounted the bike. Eddie opened his hand for you to pass him your helmet once you took it off.

Hopper waved off one of the other officers and approached Eddie right away, removing his hat to slick back his hair as he strolled over.

“Eddie,” he nodded.

“Hop,” Eddie returned. He called you his “old lady” when he introduced you, which made your smile twitch up in a weird way, having never been referred to as that before. It sounded like an insult, but apparently it meant that you were his pride and joy.

Hopper got Eddie up to speed on what they knew, which was almost nothing. Jester was found face down on the pavement with a broken neck, legs trapped under his bike. His girlfriend Shari who worked at the motel is the one who found him, and she didn’t see or hear anything unusual during the time when it happened. Of course they’d questioned her as if she had something to do with it, which was ridiculous since Shari was maybe 90 pounds soaking wet.

You were doing a spin around in a circle to take everything in when your eyes landed with a screeching halt on the hunter green SUV parked in front of room 11 on the far side of the lot. A squeak escaped your throat and you stumbled back against Eddie. Was he inside the room watching you right now?

Hopper raised his eyebrow at Eddie. “Any issues with retaliation that I should know about? Has Jester had beef with anyone lately?”

Eddie lifted his chin, bracing his hands at his hips. Hopper knew damn well that, even if this had to do with a rival gang, Eddie sure as hell wouldn’t talk about it to the cops. He’d take care of it in his own way, which was exactly what needed to happen in this case.

There was usually some polite banter between the two of them, but the mood that evening was much too somber.

“What about people staying at the motel?” You blurted. “Have they been questioned yet?”

Eddie curled his arm around you and pulled you closer, almost as if to shut you up, but Hopper paused to meet your gaze. The only people staying at the motel that night were a husband and wife with their newborn, an elderly couple on their way to visit grandkids, a business woman representing Mary Kay cosmetics, and a highly decorated war veteran who had been injured in the line of duty. The vet was on his way home from a conference in Pennsylvania—Hopper had yet to confirm this, but nothing about the guy felt concerning.

“You think someone staying at the motel wanted to kill Jester?” His tone had an edge of mocking, but he was also genuinely curious why you would ask that.

Eddie squeezed you tighter, silently reminding you not to share too much with the police.

“Well I—” you stammered, checking over your shoulder at the SUV, and then back up to Eddie. “I was wondering if there were any witnesses, that’s all.”

Hopper nodded. “We’ll be checking with all of them early in the morning, but my guess is they were asleep. Whoever did this was quick and sneaky.”

That description made a shiver run down your spine. Even as you stood there in a crowd, you could feel an imaginary blade slice across your throat.

Hopper was good at his job, but he was letting himself be blinded by the people Jester chose to associate himself with. You run with a ruthless MC, you get hurt, that’s a given.

Hopper questioned Shari, but she also knew not to talk to the police, and kept quiet about the way Jester came there to keep an eye on the creepy guy in room 11. She told Bones, though, and the second Hopper strolled off, you pulled Eddie aside.

“Look,” you motioned with your head to the SUV across the parking lot.

Eddie rolled his bottom lip through his teeth, checking to make sure Hopper was far enough away. “I saw it, baby,” he grabbed the back of your neck and massaged it. He worked his jaw as he stared at the motel room in question, hoping that fucker was peeking through the curtains and could see him holding onto you. If the place wasn’t crawling with pigs, he’d kick the door down right then and there.

Steve rolled into the lot on his chopper and gave a two-finger wave to Bones and the rest before making his way to a halt near you and Eddie. He had clear, utility glasses on to keep the bugs out of his eyes when he rode at night, and he pushed them up into his messy hair as he dismounted. He wasn’t wearing his helmet, which was an illegal and risky thing to do right in front of law enforcement—but Steve was notorious for making up his own rules.

There were also two mean looking hickeys on his neck. Even mixed in with his tattoos, they were hard to miss.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” Eddie raised an eyebrow at the aggressively bruised mouth bites. One was positioned dead-center on his adam’s apple. Something about them felt familiar to Eddie, but he shrugged it off.

Steve reached into the front pocket of his cut for his lighter and smokes, popping one in his mouth. “What did I miss?”

Eddie filled him in on Jester getting whacked, and Steve blew smoke out of his nose, thoughtfully, his brows knitting together.

“Bones wants to take it to the table,” Eddie told him, meaning their MC would get together at the clubhouse at Munson’s Garage and discuss what they wanted to do. His eyes lingered on room 11 again. “But I want to take care of this guy myself. It’s personal.”

“If it’s personal for you, it’s personal for me,” Steve told him, letting Eddie know he had his back, even though he had no idea about the gravity of the situation and who Craig actually was.

You sniffed the air. “Hold on,” you stepped closer to Steve, taking another long whiff. He exchanged a curious look with Eddie over your shoulder. “Is that Chanel number 5 I smell?”

Steve lifted the collar of his white tee to his nose. “Um, I dunno. Maybe. I guess?”

“Expensive taste,” Eddie mumbled, and another cog clicked in his brain, another piece falling into a puzzle that he didn’t know he needed to solve. He was about to open his mouth, to ask Steve where he had been—but then he remembered that who his friend was fucking was none of his business. There were plenty of wealthy, horny women in the area who wore Chanel number 5 and gave aggressive hickeys. He was sure of it.

You stayed very close to Eddie and Steve as they walked over to get as close as they could to where the body had been, so much so that you tripped over the back of Steve’s heels twice, and he teasingly asked if you were drunk. “No, but I wish,” you admitted, constantly looking over your shoulder at the motel. You kept expecting Craig to appear, to step out of his room with his hands in his pockets and a smug look on his face, enjoying the chaos he caused.

Eddie made a point to ask for Jester’s cut-off leather vest, with the Coffin Kings insignia on the back and his nickname patched on the front. Eddie folded it with great reverence, knowing they would give it to his mother at the funeral. Eddie also wanted to talk with Shari, but now was not the time to interrogate her.

Hopper told everyone to disperse, including the group of Coffin Kings that were lingering, but none of them were going far. As much as they weren’t afraid of the law, they also had to pretend to abide by it from time to time so that they weren’t getting their feathers ruffled constantly and thrown in jail over stupid shit.

They positioned two of the Prospects across the street in the park with a clear view of the motel. After what happened to Jester, they weren’t taking any chances with snoozing on the job, and both were packing serious, illegal heat.

You asked Steve how Oliver was while Bones clapped a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. The man was average height, but all gray, with a bandana on his head, and a thick mustache; he reminded you of Sam Elliott.

“You think this is the guy? The one stalking your old lady?” Bones’ already gruff voice was accentuated by years of smoking.

Eddie’s gaze flicked to one of the patrol cruisers that was leaving the scene, and he nodded. “This one is mine, brother. I need this.”

“We all need it,” Bones agreed, gripping Eddie’s shoulder. He leaned in, “If you want to drag that guy out of there right now, we’re with you.”

“No,” Eddie appreciated the offer but, “I want to catch him on the move, away from all of this protection,” he added, hitching his chin in the direction of the police. “I can’t risk us getting locked up while he roams free.”

Eddie also didn’t trust the Prospects to keep a close enough eye on him, so he planned to take you to Steve’s and come back; there was no way he’d be able to sleep knowing Craig would be up and about in a few hours.

But you weren’t so crazy about that idea. Sure, you’d stay the night at Steve and Robin’s if that made him feel better to know you were all in one place, but Eddie needed to stay with you.

Robin and Oliver were asleep, and Steve was in the shower washing off his Chanel number 5 when Eddie shut the door to Steve’s bedroom so you could talk. Steve’s room was little else than a tv, a dresser, and a futon sofa that folded out into a bed. There was a chair next to the window and an ashtray full of cigarette butts on the sill. He usually slept in the extra twin bed in Oliver’s room down the hall, though, and that is where he would be that night so that you and Eddie could have the futon. You knew that not much talking needed to be involved to get him to stay and you quickly dropped to your knees, working his belt off and unzipping his jeans.

“Wait, baby, I—” Eddie began to protest but by then you’d already pulled the top of his boxers down and were wrapping your soft lips around the head of his cock. “---oh fuck that feels good,” he whispered, dropping the back of his head to the wall.

You kissed down the smooth shaft and felt it grow against your lips, and then swirled your tongue around the head again, knowing by the sounds he was making that you had him right where you wanted him.

“Stay here with me baby,” you coaxed, gripping his cock in your fist, lapping at it with your tongue a few times like it was an ice cream cone, looking up at him. “I need you.”

He put a hand on the back of your head and pushed his hips forward ever so slightly, so the tip made its way to the back of your throat. It was growing to full-size fast, and you made a humming noise, vibrating on it while you caressed his balls through his boxers.

“Shit, oh fuck, I love it when you do that,” he breathed. God, he loved watching how well you took care of him, especially the way a string of saliva would stretch out between your mouth and his tip when you pulled back; your mouth was so wet for him.

“Mhmmm,” you nodded. His tip was already leaking, and you pulled his boxers down further to take one of his balls into your mouth before coming back up to lick the drops clean.

There were a handful of times when Eddie let you give him head from start to finish, but more often than not—he always wanted to finish inside of you. It wasn’t a breeding thing, it was more of a “I need to be as close to you as I possibly can” kind of thing, and his balls ached for it.

After making sure the door was locked, speaking exclusively in hushed whispers, it wasn’t long before you were both naked and Eddie had you on the bed with your legs straight up over his shoulders. He ran his cock along your slippery slit, and then he tapped your hole with the head a few times, like a vow. He braced his hands at your hips and sank in, making you both bite back a cry of pleasure. He pounded you with fierce urgency before slowing it down to long strokes, turning his face to kiss your leg. The open futon had the cushion of a cement block, and so there were no pesky springs or hinges to make curious noises.

“I’m so full baby,” you whined. “You’re so deep.”

“Fuck,” he bottomed out a few more times, clapping his hips against you. You heard the shower across the hall turn off and worried that Steve might catch the wet smacking noises.

There were no lights on in the room, but enough illumination from outside for Eddie to be able to watch himself slide in and out of you, growling low as he did so, loving how the skin of his cock glistened with your arousal.

You were swiping at your clit with the pads of your fingers, and your hand sped up when he started fucking you hard again. You met his eyes, your brows knitting together. “Oh fuck Eddie…just like that.”

Eddie knew that, if you said you liked something, that was not time to switch things up, and he ached to hear you get loud.

“That’s my girl,” he hissed. “Cum on my cock baby, I want you to cum so fucking hard, oh shit—” he could feel his own release mounting as your walls rippled around him. His strong fingers dug into your thigh as his thrusts became erratic, long hair hanging down his strong, tattooed shoulders and chest.

You arched up, mouth opening only to mouth a curse word as you felt Eddie buck and release inside of you, biting his lip so hard it almost bled as he moaned deep in his throat. Your cunt milked his dick as you came, twitching, breathing hard from the adrenaline rush of trying to keep quiet.

The bathroom door opened, there was the sound of footsteps in the hall, and then a knock at your door. You mirrored Eddie’s wide eyes, and then he pulled out of you, reluctantly, semi-hard cock bobbing in the air, and stepped into his jeans while you covered yourself with the Harley Davidson blanket.

Before Eddie could get his jeans zipped, Steve tried the doorknob. “Yo, the bathroom is free,” he let you both know, as any roommate would if there were only one shower and toilet in the house.

“Thanks man,” Eddie paused, waiting, wondering if that was it.

But Steve rapped his knuckles softly on the wood again. “Let me in for a second, dude, I gotta get something out of my closet.”

Eddie shot a look back at you, as if to make sure you were covered up, while simultaneously wondering if he wanted Steve to see that you were obviously naked under his blanket. He adjusted his cock in his denim and reached out to pluck the lock open on the knob.

“Took you long enough,” Steve blew in with a Snoopy towel around his waist, exposing the wash of colorful tattoos covering his torso that you’d never seen before. He had “FTW” inked in big letters in an arc over his stomach, and after consulting with Eddie later, you learned it stood for “fuck the world”. Your eyes also landed on Oliver’s name tattooed over his heart. He usually slicked his hair back, so this was the first time you ever saw it so messy and wild.

Steve slid the closet door open, yanked something off a wire hanger, and was about to walk back out the door when he stopped and turned on his heel to give you both a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Hold up—did I interrupt something?”

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just blinked a few times, and you plastered a tight smile across your face that made your cheeks squeak.

“If you need me to stay, I could—” Steve teased, offering a few exaggerated winks.

“Get the fuck out,” Eddie pushed his shoulder, snorting a muffled laugh as he did so.

—-----------

Earlier that evening, when you and Eddie showed up at the crime scene near the motel—-Craig was not in his room. He hadn’t been there for almost two hours, since he killed Jester. He got out through the window in the bathroom, and that poor kid never saw it coming. After that, he hotwired a car from the grocery store parking lot a few blocks away and waited across the street, in plain sight, watching the whole thing. He gritted his teeth and mumbled under his breath when Eddie put his arm around you, and when you left together—he followed.

He already knew where your friends Steve and Robin lived, and it was not a shocker that your biker boyfriend took you there. You didn’t need protection from Craig, though, you needed protection from the world, and metalhead scum like Eddie Musnon. He knew you would thank him one day, for finding you and bringing you back to your senses.

It took him a while to figure out the exact spot where you would be in the house, but once he did, he found that the window was cracked open, like a gift. He hadn’t expected the sounds of you getting fucked to turn him on, but the way you whimpered…oh god…those noises you made. He put his head against the side of the house, closed his eyes, and pretended it was his cock inside of you. He came into the bushes, mumbling your name with the additional, “you fucking bitch, you fucking whore” before adjusting himself and making his way back to the motel.

—-------

The next morning, Craig’s vehicle was still there, and it didn’t appear like the guy had even moved a muscle or pulled back a curtain.

At around 8:00, the two Prospects stationed on watch across the street got a phone call from the payphone on the corner. It was Bones, letting them know they were both needed down at the abandoned steel mill.

Both were tired of waiting, but Van, the one who’d answered the phone, couldn’t mount his bike fast enough, while Devlin worked through some internal struggle.

“Hold on,” Devlin said, taking a second to absorb what Van just told him. Both had long hair tied back in ponytails, each similarly tall with lanky muscles. Van was sleeved with tattoos, though, while Devlin only had a Celtic design on his bicep. “He needs both of us? What about this guy?” He tossed his chin in the direction of the motel. “Eddie said not to let him out of our sight.”

“Do you want me to call Bones back so you can give him all these questions?” Van offered snidely, knowing that the last thing a Prospect would ever do is question the President of the MC. “Let’s get the fuck out of here, I gotta piss. If Eddie wants this guy so bad, he can come babysit him.”

Devlin pulled his leather gloves on, flexing his fingers as he stared across at Van. There’s no way in hell he’d talk that way to Eddie’s face—he’d get rocked into next week. Devlin noticed that Van was jittery, like an addict jonesing for a hit of something. “It’s your ass,” Devlin assured him as he strapped his helmet on under his chin.

—------

When the boys swung by to talk to the Prospects a bit later, the two were nowhere to be found, and Craig’s SUV was gone.

“Son of a bitch,” Eddie spat, motioning for Steve to follow him to circle around to the motel.

“What the fuck?” Steve barked, looking around as they each dismounted their bikes. He had on a red tee with the armholes cut open wide to expose his tan ribcage and scattered tattoos.“Where the hell are Van and Devlin?”

Eddie didn’t have time to solve that mystery, he was too focused on the way the door to room 11 was cracked ajar, suggesting that the occupant had left in a hurry.

Both boys stood back on either side of the door, each with one hand on the hilt of their holstered knives. Not only was Craig dangerous, but he was a sneaky coward who didn’t have the guts to face Eddie like a man.

Eddie pounded the door the rest of the way open with his boot.

The room appeared to have been vacated—the guy even took out his own trash, as if someone would want to sift through it. The bed had been made, with the sheets tucked so tight, you could bounce a dime on it, and on his way back from checking the bathroom, Eddie saw a matchbook from The Golden Lion Hotel and Resort sitting on the desk.

“Maybe the guy gave up,” Steve looked around the dresser under the tv, pulling the empty drawers open. “Tucked his tail and ran like the scared puppy he is.”

Eddie shook his head a few times before he said anything, turning the matchbook over in his fingers. “Oh,he’s still around,” Eddie concluded. “And I think he left us a breadcrumb.”

Eddie wasn’t stupid, he knew the guy hadn’t left it there by accident. Craig seemed to get off on slipping through their fingers and mocking them around every turn, but he underestimated what Eddie would do when he actually got a hold of him.

—-----------

When Eddie called to tell you what had happened, a cold chill ran down your spine. It was late morning, and you were at your Saturday “bloody mary brunch” shift at the Velvet Hammer while The Drama You’ve Been Craving by Sleater-Kinney played from the jukebox. The b-movie on the tv mounted above the bar was The Killer Shrews. Your shift was 9 to 4, but you planned on asking if you could work a double and stay as late as possible, because it felt safe to be in a crowd; staying busy also kept your anxiety at bay. The only downside would be that Eddie was out of your sight, and you had a feeling that both the boys would be trying to track down Craig for most of the day. You weren’t doubting that Eddie could handle himself against Craig in a fist fight—but that wasn’t the type of combat Craig excelled at. There was always some element of manipulation and psychological fuckery.

And then Steve was off to be a bodyguard for some wealthy, country club wife later that night, leaving Eddie completely alone. You weren’t sure of the details, but you knew he was being forced to go to take whoever it was to some wedding. All you could do was serve alcoholic beverages and hope the world outside figured itself out without anyone you loved getting hurt.

You overheard the new server ask Shana if Steve was working the door that day.

“He’s only here after 6,” Shana replied, digging a metal scoop into the ice to make a mint mojito. There was about an inch of platinum stubble growing in on her shaved head. She wore a dark red choker with a cross dangling from it, and a low cut, velvet shirt to expose the roses and thorns tattoo that covered her chest. “But, he asked for the night off,” Shana wiggled her eyebrows at the girl. “I think he has a hot date.”

To your surprise, you watched the new girl’s face drop. She’d only been there for a week, and it seemed like she and Steve were always in the middle of a lover’s spat. Some of it was playful banter, but also, the more she pushed him away and teased him, the more he sought her out to tease her more, and she wasn’t afraid to give her rejection harsh and swift.

“It’s not a date,” you corrected, walking side by side, carrying drinks to your table. “Some lady is paying him to be her escort slash bodyguard for a wedding tonight.”

A smile twitched on her lips; she looked relieved as the two of you set the drinks down black cocktail napkins coasters. After you finished at that table, Lily tapped your elbow.

“Who would need a bodyguard at a wedding in this town?” She asked, frowning quizzically. “Is she famous or something?”

Her question brought a sudden avalanche of memories down on you. You remembered that day at the gallery when you first caught sight of Charlene, and the second time you ever met Eddie. He was there as her “bodyguard” that night, according to Jeff, and you recalled how ridiculous it sounded.

That night several months ago, you teased Eddie for being on your “turf” on the sidewalk outside of Moon River Gallery, and just the thought of those early days made your heart flutter.

It dawned on you then, like a smack to the forehead, who Steve was escorting to the wedding that night, and you leaned across the bar to ask Shanna to pass you the phone.

—--------

Robin answered as she spun cookie dough in a mixing bowl with a wooden spoon, her hair in a scrunchy on the top of her head. She’d offered to watch one of her friend's kids for a bit, and both the boys were giggling at cartoons in the living room. The smoke alarm just went off because she burned the first batch and was determined to try again.

You asked if Steve had checked in recently, or if she expected him home any time soon.

Pinning the phone between her shoulder and her ear, Robin opened the window above the sink to try and wave some of the burnt cookie smoke out with her hand. “He was just here to grab something, but then he took off again,” she kicked the oven closed with her foot. “Why, what’s up?”

You figured there was always a chance he’d stop by The Hammer even though he wasn’t working—you hoped so anyway. “You know if he’s still doing that escort thing tonight?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty excited about it,” there was a tiny voice in the background and Robin held her hand over the receiver to tell Ollie she’d be there in a second. “Well, he’s excited about the money. I got invited to the same wedding, but Katie’s visiting her mom and I don’t want to be lame and go by myself, even though Paul’s mom did offer to babysit.”

“Oh, that’s right,” you considered the implication of what she was saying. If you could duck into the wedding long enough to warn Steve and let him know his “date” is the reason Eddie got stabbed, then at least Steve would have fair warning for what he was getting himself into.

Robin stopped stirring and held the phone with her flour covered hand. “Hey, do you want to be my date? I know you’ve got this creepy ex breathing down your throat, but until the Kings grab him, I think it would be fun to take your mind off of it. There’s an open bar at the reception and I’m always a fan of free food.”

You were nodding, but realized there were no words coming out. “I think that might be a really good idea,” you sucked in your top lip, almost wishing Eddie hadn’t ripped the dress John bought you. “I was going to try and pick up another shift, but yeah, I could be your date.”

You already told Eddie you’d be working, so you’d let the new bouncer at the Hammer know where you were in case he came by. Since Eddie was usually impossible to get a hold of during the day, you’d leave a message on his machine, too, just in case.

Meanwhile, as Robin spooned dough onto an aluminum sheet, she remembered the gun that was locked back in the safe. For some strange reason, the hair stood up on the back of her neck and she wondered if she would need it.

—-------

Right before you left your message on Eddie’s machine letting him know where you would be, there was another message that came through:

(machine clicks) “It’s me, Melanie. Wow, I guess you really don’t want to talk to me. (long pause) It’s been five years, I figured we could at least try to be friends or something, but I am reading your silence loud and clear. (heavy sigh) I went over to visit Wayne and he said you have a new girlfriend now, and that you’re happy, so, congratulations, I guess. You deserve all the good things. This is the last time I will try to contact you. Have a nice life, Eddie.”

Later that day, just as the sun was setting, the phone rang again.

(machine clicks) (shuffling, muffled cursing) “You know what? Fuck you, Eddie Mussin.” Melanie slurs. “Fuck you for making me fill like a peas of schit for even trying to be a part of your life. (hiccup) Your new whore is here at this wedding, where are you? I don’t fuckin deserve this. I need you to come down here right now and tell me to my face that you don’t love me anymore before I come to you–” (loud click)

—------

Back at the Munson’s Garage, Eddie did not go up to his apartment, but he did meet with Bones and a few of the other members inside the clubhouse. Eddie told Bones about how Van and Devlin had disappeared, and he was just as confused as anyone.

“I don’t know shit about them leaving,” Bones assured from one of the bar stools, silver hair brushed back off his face, wearing an old school denim cut-off with the club insignia on it, and a thick wallet chain hanging down the thigh of his dark denim. “I told those fuckers to stay put until you got there.”

Eddie put his hands on his hips and worked his jaw. The door that led in from the garage opened then, and the two idiots in question appeared. Eddie didn’t wait to ask questions, he just walked over, took the first one he could catch by the throat, and pinned him up against the wall with a hard thwack that sounded like he almost broke the wood paneling.

Van choked and wheezed against Eddie’s hold. “Where the fuck have you two been?” Eddie spat through gritted teeth.

Devlin started talking fast, waving his hands. “We’ve been over at the abandoned steel mill, waiting where you told us to for the past couple hours,” he said to Bones in a rush.

Bones and Eddie exchanged a frown. Bones shook his head, scowling at Devlin. “What the hell are you talking about? Nothing’s going down at the steel mill today.” There were several abandoned buildings on the outskirts of town where the Kings conducted the shady side of their dealings, but so far, the weekend plans were tame.

Devlin shot a look at Van, whose face was beet red above Eddie’s grip, and then turned back to Bones. “So, if you didn’t call us on the payphone this morning to tell us to go to the steel mill, who did?”

Eddie released Van so that he could talk, waiting for him to catch his breath and cough a few times. “It sounded like you,” Van sputtered so hard that saliva dripped from his lip.

Bones sat back in his seat, smoothing out his mustache, while the other members around him mumbled to themselves. “You really are just as stupid as you look.”

And then Eddie’s fist came in tight, landing flush with his Van’s jaw, and he stumbled back against the wall and slid to the floor, accepting his punishment with a curse.

The door from the garage pushed open abruptly, and there stood Josh, one of Eddie’s mechanics wearing smudged overalls. He threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Yo, Thumper has eyes on that hunter green SUV you’ve been looking for. It’s headed for Highway 22 off of Deer Park.”

Eddie pushed himself off the wall with the side of his fist, pounding it there, on his way outside to jump on his chopper. The rest of the guys followed, including a woozy Van, stumbling as he got to his feet..

Chrome pipes roared to life one right after the other as the eight of them rumbled out of the parking lot.

—------

While Eddie and a handful of the Coffin Kings were blowing down the highway in the hot summer sun in pursuit of Craig, Steve was sipping champagne, getting his sleeves marked to be adjusted last minute by Charlene’s personal tailor. They were in her master bedroom overlooking the pool as beige curtains billowed in along with the soft echo of Joey by Concrete Blonde from the radio down near the jacuzzi. Charlene had a see-through coverup over her zebra print bikini as she watched from her chair. She liked to touch herself whenever the tailor wasn’t looking, and to be fair—Steve liked it too. She plucked at her nipple and ran the tip of her tongue over her teeth, making his cock twitch in his pants as he gnawed vigorously on his Wrigley’s Spearmint gum.

He’d been with a few batshit crazy chicks in his day, but this one was up there with the battiest. Honestly—he didn’t hate it. The problem was, he’d started to have this crush on one of the new servers at The Velvet Hammer, and two things were wrong with it: one, he didn’t have time or room in his life for romance, and two, she kind of hated his guts.

She acted like she did, anyway. She told him that his reputation preceded him, and that he’d never get in her pants, no matter how hard he tried.

Bet.

Charlene helped him to take his mind off of that, even though she did treat him like some sort of life-sized Ken doll. Her sexual appetite was insatiable, and that afternoon, before the tailor got there, was the second time she’d asked him to choke her while she came until she almost passed out.

Steve was afraid of those torture kinks though; afraid he might not know his own strength one time and take his anger out on his partner. He had a switch inside of him that was either on or off, and he didn’t know how to idle in between.

The tailor walked away to the vanity to grab something, and Charlene sauntered over to pretend she was fixing Steve’s collar. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear: “I want to feel your cum drip out of me all night,” and it gave him a shiver. He would definitely have to fuck her again before they left, and maybe again in the towncar on the way there.

—------

The thing that surprised Charlene the most was not how attracted she was to Steve, but how she was starting to not miss Eddie anymore. This all started as a way to get closer to Eddie, and to get back at him at the same time, but now all she could think about was being naked with Steve—to have him rip her suit off with his teeth.

He’d left marks on her, because she asked him too, and there was some slight bruising around her throat that she loved to admire. John wouldn’t ask about it, he didn’t care what she did. Eddie always refused to indulge her in that way—he would fuck her rough, sure, but he didn’t like the idea of introducing pain, and none of her other lovers had the right touch until now.

She watched Steve’s jaw muscles work as he chewed his gum, and then he winked at her after the tailor asked him a question. She was down bad in a way that made her want to be 15 years younger, to start completely over with someone like Steve. Maybe it would’ve made her a different, softer person, maybe they would’ve had a son together. But then she remembered her situation and how that wasn’t an option, and then the bitterness flooded back in, rising like bile at the back of her throat.

While Steve was just trying to make it through the evening, Charlene was trying to think of ways to keep him with her forever.

—-------

You showed up at Robin’s with the only dress you had that qualified as formal wear—the style was possibly outdated by ten years. You brought your Caboodles makeup case too, because you knew how much Oliver loved to watch you put makeup on. Robin never wore makeup, aside from some lipstick now and then, so she always appreciated it when you or Katie indulged him. You had a polaroid back at the duplex of the makeup Oliver put on Steve once; wide, outlined red lips, bright green lids from lashline to eyebrow, and a dusting of glitter.

“Which color do you think?” You asked, gesturing to your eyelids, in front of the bathroom mirror while Ollie stood on a step stool next to you. He had on a pair of bright yellow swim trunks and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tank top.

“I think this blue for one eye,” he scratched his head, tapping the hard plastic shell over a sparkly turquoise with a tiny finger. He paused his hand as his eyes moved around, and made a serious face, concentrating. “And this color for the other eye,” the other color was a dark red.

He looked up at you with those big, honey brown Steve eyes, waiting for you to start applying them, rubbing his lips together. “Ollie, my love,” you chuckled. “One day, your artistic genius will be appreciated, but I don’t think Hawkins is ready for it quite yet.”

“What if we do these,” you showed him a few things including eyeliner and blush. “And I’ll let you put some of the mascara on me.”

He nodded, eyes widening at all of the options scattered around the sink, wanting to put it all on your face at once.

Suddenly, there was a pounding at the front door that made your heart stop.

You told Oliver to wait in the bathroom and shut the door while you went to check it out.

Relief flooded in when you realized it was only Robin. She’d gone out to close the garage and accidentally locked herself out of the house. Who else had you expected? Craig? Surely, he had no idea where Steve and Robin lived.

Paul’s mom Raina was running an hour late to pick Oliver up with promises of ice cream and Scooby Doo, so you missed the wedding itself, but the two of you decided you’d still make it to the reception; shame to waste all the time you took getting ready. While you had a glass of wine in the kitchen and helped Robin zip up the back of her navy blue, strapless dress, you kept looking at the phone, and glancing out the living room window to the street, waiting to see Eddie, or at least hear from him. On your way out the door, you tried his apartment one more time, but hung up before you could leave another message.

—------

The Coffin Kings zoomed along the highway, weaving in and out of cars, keeping to a tight, intimidating pack as much as possible with Bones out in front and Eddie right behind him, hair flying in the wind. Thumper caught sight of them from a road crossing and joined, spitting up a cloud of dust as he went.

Up ahead, there was a bottleneck in traffic as two lanes converged, and the line of cars were beginning to slow down. Eddie spotted the SUV in the distance and waved the group to the side of the highway to bypass all of the vehicles at a standstill.

Eddie’s arm muscles were tight and flexed, the sleeves of his Pantera tee exposing his tan, inked arms. His face was locked in a permanent frown as he braced against the wind. Four of the other guys went around the opposite side of the highway, ready to box in the target.

The windows of the SUV were tinted, but Eddie could tell that the guy must’ve seen them coming in his rearview mirror because the vehicle lurched, wheels cranking, trying to get out on the lip of the road to escape.

Eddie sped up, twisting the throttle on the right handlebar, weaving in through the cars again to rage down the dotted yellow line.

The SUV bolted out from the line of cars, dove into the ditch, and then corrected itself before swerving onto an unpaved road that led out through the trees.

The gang followed; Eddie and Thumper got up behind it, eating dust from the tires, and once they were away from the traffic cluster, Thumper reached down for his handgun, aimed it at the back tire and shot twice.

The vehicle swerved and kept going but slowed down enough for them to get along each side, and then Bones raised his gun and blew out the back window.

The SUV turned so fast that Thumper lost control and flipped his bike into the dirt, but motioned for the others to keep going.

There was a dead-end curve with metal railing, and that is where the vehicle finally screeched to a halt sideways. A few of the guys stayed on their bikes and aimed their guns at the driver’s side door, while Eddie dismounted and waited to see if Craig would step out, but he didn’t, so Eddie went over and yanked it open for him.

“Please please please don’t kill me!” The woman behind the steering wheel screamed, holding her hands up. She was in her early fifties, highlights of gray hair in her brunette bob, wearing an orange corduroy jumper over a floral shirt.

The woman was in tears, and Eddie stepped back in disbelief. He jerked open the side door only to realize it was the same make of SUV, but it did not belong to Craig.

“You can take my wallet,” the woman stammered. “It’s in my—”

“We’re sorry, ma’am,” Bones told her, motioning for everyone to lower their weapons as a dust cloud settled around them. “There’s been a terrible mistake.”

Eddie started to walk away but then let out a violent curse at the last minute and punched the side of the SUV causing it to dent.

—------

Steve ran the tip of his tongue over his gold incisor and buttoned his jacket as he came around the passenger side of the Jaguar to take Charlene’s hand at the entrance to the Golden Lion Hotel & Resort before he tossed the keys to the valet. The tats on his hands and throat were an interesting pairing with the fancy suit he had on, and it took all of Charlene’s willpower not to kiss him right there. She knew what everyone whispered about—she knew that the infidelities both her and John exercised were well known in town—but it was important to continue the facade.

It was a strange arrangement in more ways than one: Steve escorted her inside to where a group of her friends were, but then was told to wait out front like a guard until the ceremony and dinner were over. Steve took a walk, smoked half a pack of cigarettes, talked to some of the other drivers, and sat in the lobby, bobbing his knee restlessly. Charlene came out to check on him a few times, like someone would a dog, even brought him a plate of food. He planned to wait until the music for the dancing started, and then he’d go and find his benefactress to ask how much longer they needed to stay. He didn’t mind Charlene—he thought she was hot as hell—but the only thing motivating him to stick around was feeling that wad of cash in his pocket once the evening was over.

He saw Eddie’s ex Melanie at the bar taking shots with her friend, and he ducked behind a collection of imported palm trees so that they wouldn’t see him.

______

“Steve!” You called across the parking lot as your heels clapped up the pavement with Robin close behind you. You were relieved to see that he was alone, if only for a moment.

He was afraid to look up at first, his head bent down as he finished the last of his smoke, not sure if it was someone he wanted to ignore. But, when his eyebrows finally lifted the rest of his head up, his face beamed with a mix of relief and confusion.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” His surprised expression landed on Robin; it was only the third time in his life he’d seen her in a dress. He almost didn’t recognize her.

Robin scoffed. “I wanted to go to this wedding in the first place, remember?”

“Oh shit,” Steve balked. “Is this Scott’s wedding you were telling me about?”

Robin shook her head and snorted a laugh out her nose. “You are unreal.”

“Damn, I wasn’t paying any attention,” he jerked the corners of his mouth down in an oblivious frown.

“Hey,” you took Steve by the elbow, leaning in. “The woman you’re here with, is her name Charlene?”

Steve’s ADHD was getting the better of him. “Yes, why? Where’s Eddie? Is he coming? Did they catch that freak who broke into your place?”

You stammered, trying to choose which one to answer. “I’m not sure, but I—”

And that was when Charlene showed up in the entranceway behind you—in the flesh—and beckoned for Steve to come inside. You could almost feel her there, even without looking, and it made all of the hair on your body stand on end.

You turned to face her in all of her Sharon Stone glory, and in that moment, you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of fear flash over her face as she recognized you.

“Stevie,” she said it louder, clearing her throat. “Come have a drink with me?”

“Be right there,” Steve threw her a lift of his chin and grin, and then he turned back to you, running a hand through his hair. “I have to go do this for a bit longer. See you in there, though, yeah?”

But before you could say anything else, he patted your arm and strode over to greet Charlene, offering his elbow for her to take. You could hear the music start up from the dancefloor: Good Vibrations by Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch.

Robin pushed tight to your side. “Is that her?” She asked. “The one who got Eddie stabbed?”

“That’s her,” you said, watching them through the glass as they disappeared around a corner.

“Hell no,” Robin pushed off with a huff. “I don’t care how much money she’s giving him, he needs to know,” and then she charged fullbore into the building, getting stuck in a crowd of people exiting, pushing her way through while trying to be polite.

“Robin, wait!” You blurted, still weary of Charlene’s reach and power. You hustled after her, stopping to hold the door open for an elderly couple as people poured in and out to get some air, music vibrating in your chest.

You broke free into the lobby, scissored your way through the line for the bar, keeping your eye on the back of Robin up ahead.

That was when a strong arm snaked around your waist from behind and a mouth pressed against your ear, hissing at a whisper: “Try to fight me or make a sound and I’ll hurt your friends,” the voice promised.

It was Craig.

You could feel the stubble on his chin and smell the familiar Altoids and whiskey tang of his breath.

“Come with me?” He asked it as a question, but he knew you would nod, swallowing hard and then he grabbed your arm with one hand and rested the other on the small of your back, guiding you back and to the side, into the shadows.

You didn’t say a word, you just kept pace with him, knowing that his threats were never idle.

—-----

Eddie sent two of the guys ahead to bring a tow truck to take the woman’s SUV back to the shop, and he let her know that all of the repairs were on him, apologizing for the “mixup”. But then Bones had to step in and have a serious conversation with her about how she shouldn’t tell anyone about what happened, especially the police—that it would be bad for her “health”.

It was dark by the time Eddie got back to his place. He was angry and frustrated and fucking exhausted, but finding you was now his priority. You told him you’d leave a message on his machine letting him know if you did a double shift at The Hammer, and so he went up to wash his face and see if you’d called. His boots clomped wearily on the steps, tired shoulders rolling, his neck cracking.

With his shirt off, he dried the water and soap from his face, wet bangs brushed off his forehead, and then hung the towel around his neck as he played the messages he had.

The first one was from Melanie, and he deleted it as soon as it was over with a weary sigh.

He snatched the matchbook he found in Craig’s motel room from the nightstand and spun it in his fingers as he sat down on the bed, lips jerking up in a smile at the sound of your voice in the next message.

You’d decided to go to a wedding with Robin. He stopped twirling the matchbook and let that sink in. But, Steve would be there too, you assured him, and you asked him to join you if he was in the mood. You said you’d call when you got back to Robin’s if you didn’t see or hear from him. You told him you loved him, and he whispered, “I love you too,” at the machine.

The only problem was, you forgot to mention where, exactly, the wedding was.

He spun the matchbook again as the next voice clicked on: Melanie. Again.

But, this time her words made an uncomfortable lump form in his throat.

Melanie was at the same wedding? Fuck.

The end of her message sent fireworks through his blood, and he put the matchbook down to go over and search through the pile of papers on his desk for the invitation that he got. It was still sealed in the envelope, and he ripped the corner open with his teeth, spitting out the paper, cringing as confetti fluttered to the ground when he pulled out the buttercream invitation with lace corners.

Golden Lion Hotel and Resort

His mouth went dry as he circled back around the bed to pick up the matchbook again, realizing with a buzzing in his ears that it was from the same place.

And it had been in Craig’s room. The only trace left of him in an otherwise immaculate space.

Eddie squeezed the matchbook so tight in his fist, he crushed it, and then he went to find you.

Part 15

I cherish you all, and please remember that your comments, especially your reblogs, mean the absolute world to me.

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#fuckfuckfuck #fic rec

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