Page 1 of Nightshades

Six months ago

I was always told that nothing good happens in the dark. All the bad and scary things that make people lock their doors take place at a devilish time of night.

It’s why I stay in the dark. It’s why I hide myself in the shadows where I belong.

I am what everyone fears.

It’s my six-foot-six-inch frame. It’s the full-body tattoos. It’s the black out of my eyes. I am judged, tried, and more often than not, tested to see if anyone could ever win against me.

I am not kind. I hold no patience. I am not a good man.

What I look like on the outside is how I feel on the inside—chaotic and full of rage. I’m the Sergeant at Arms, the leadingenforcer for the motorcycle club Shallow Sinners. We’re one percenters. The kind the world fears and hates.

And we make most of our moves in the dark.

The vibrations from the motorcycle humming between my legs have my cock hard and my blood filled with lust. Even the sound of the exhaust strokes the Jacob’s Ladder and Prince Albert piercings I have.

I pull into the lot in front of the clubhouse, the music pounding against the walls. The laughter is almost as loud as the the glass bottles breaking. Party must be going well if I can hear all that from outside.

Off to the right, I see one of the members fucking his old lady against the wall. Her skirt is hiked around her hips, panties pushed to the side, and her moans are echoing through the woods that surround us.

I’ve buried many bodies in these woods. It’s my own personal graveyard.

My trophies.

Bad people deserve even worse deaths, and that’s why the Devil created me.

The front door to the clubhouse swings open, slamming against the wall. Another chip of cement where the door handle meets the side of the clubhouse falls to the ground. I’ve been telling Prez for the last few years that this place needs a remodel, but he doesn’t want to invest.

It will be too late when this shit hole crumbles around us.

“Hey, Nightmare,” Chelley, one of the biker bunnies, shouts for me in her thick New York accent.

I don’t bother getting off my bike yet. I love the feeling of her between my legs too fucking much. “What do you want, Chelley?” I know what she wants. I don’t typically fuck the biker bunnies. I’m more interested in killing than fucking, but tonight, I think I’ll make an exception.

I killed a man who was raping his kid. I think that deserves celebration.

She blows a big pink bubble from the chewing gum she’s smacking, then pops it with one of her sharp fingernails. “Want to meet me in the back? I can show you a good time, Nightmare.”

She and the other ten bunnies inside right now.

Taking a cigarette from my pocket, I place it between my lips, light it, and inhale as deeply as I can before blowing out the smoke.

“Go on, then.” I lean forward, crossing my arms on the handlebars. “Go get ready for me. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I’ll get ready for you, baby,” she purrs, biting the corner of her lip. “I’ve seen what you’re packing. You aren’t going to be easy to take.”

“No,” I grunt in agreement. “I won’t be. And I’m not going to lick a pussy that don’t belong to me neither. So go get ready.” I blow out another thick cloud of smoke, staring her down with black-filled eyes. “I don’t have all night.”

Chelley blows another bubble, walking down the sidewalk in her red high heels before disappearing into the dark.

I turn off the bike, swing my leg over, and kick the stand with my boot. Already, my hard cock begins to fall limp from not feeling the vibrations of the engine. Not even the sounds of one of my MC brothers fucking his wife causes my dick to stir.

If she isn’t screaming, if she isn’t crying, if there isn’t the least amount of terror involved, I can’t get it up. I need pain. I need fear. I need to see them question if their life is flashing before their eyes.

I’m different than the rest of the MC. They don’t crave violence the way I do, but they don’t run away from it either. Sometimes, I catch a glow in their eyes, or one of them will growl, but I tell myself I’m imagining it.

Must be the side effect of my psyche breaking.