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CHAPTER 2
Rogue
“ T ime to go,” I tell Twilah Jane as she’s draped over my naked body trying to catch her breath. I give her bare ass a slap for good measure. A yawn escapes me. Well, I have been up about forty-eight hours now, add in drinking last night, and the joint I smoked, sleep will be necessary soon enough. That won’t happen with her here, though.
Learned that lesson a while back. I always sleep alone.
“Do you mind if I shower here?” she asks raising up in the bed, her cheeks still flushed from our fresh fuck.
“Yeah, I do,” I raise my eyebrows at her, “I ever let you shower here?”
She sighs, “well no, but I thought since we didn’t come to bed until well a couple of hours ago and I’m sure they are getting breakfast going now. I don’t know what I’m saying,” she mutters defeated. Her shoulders slump. “You want me to go out there like this?” she whispers, then replies to herself, “never mind.”
“Don’t press your luck Twilah. No matter how good you suck cock, you got one place here and you know what it is.”
Visibly she trembles at her harsh reality. “We’ve been doin’ this pretty regular lately. I know you’re not wantin’ an old lady, I just thought maybe I could shower here rather than in the bunkhouse.”
I smirk, “don’t worry, Twilah, pretty regular just ended.”
She gasps. “Please, Rogue, I like it here. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“I’m a dick, but I’m not a total dick. Your place as a club whore is the same. Just my cock won’t be one you taste or touch again. My bed, my shower, my space is never available to anyone else outside of the time it takes me to get off and decide I’m done. If any of the girls need to know, you should probably tell them.”
She nods while looking away the shame written all over her face.
I know she’s worried I’m gonna tell her to kick rocks because I can. If I do though, where does that leave her? On the street without a job, and not a clue as to what she wants out of life. She’s a good fuck and she stays in line when the old ladies are around. Hell, Tyrant and Blair have her babysitting their kid. I’m not about to fuck that up for them or her.
But I won’t let her be misled or fooled again that somehow she is close to me. My boundaries are well-defined and never something I will adjust for pussy.
Ignoring her, I get out of bed with the used condom hanging on my now limp cock and make my way to my bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I don’t hear her leave, but I know she has at least left my room. Am I dick? Possibly. But I didn’t tell her anything she doesn’t already know. Some of the brothers probably let her sleep in their beds, and use their bathrooms to shower, clean up, whatever. I’m not one of them.
She knows her place. As a club whore her job is to serve the members of the club. If at any time she wishes to stop the service, she is welcome to. No one is holding her here and she damn sure isn’t forced to do anything against her will. Consent is something that a club whore can take back at any time, but they know they need to leave the property as soon as they don’t plan to be part of this anymore.
Twilah Jane is replaceable. She knows it. They all do. If they aren’t here to serve their purpose, then they need not be here at all. As for taking a shower in my room, that isn’t her place either. She’s not an old lady and need not get any ideas that she’s going to get that from me. None of them do.
After my shower, I move to my room, tossing on jeans, a plain navy blue t-shirt, my cut, socks and my boots. The typical uniform of the day for any brother in the Kings of Carnage MC. The shirt color and design doesn’t matter, but we all don’t go anywhere without our cuts. If we travel, from time to time, we have to remove them, but that is for safety and out of respect for other clubs if we are in their territory.
Making my way to the common area, I give a nod to Henley who is in the bar space putting out plates of bacon, sausage, eggs, biscuits and pancakes along with jars of his homemade jellies, or marmalades as he calls them. I don’t give a fuck what anyone calls the jars of deliciousness. Bottom line that man can cook. And he can party too. How he’s up cooking for all of us already, I don’t know, but I’m grateful for it. We all were drinking, smoking, shooting the shit until the early hours of this morning. Here this motherfucker is making a damn buffet with a hangover. A belly full of his food is a great way to start the day.
Kitty sees me and immediately goes to the coffee pot to pour me a cup. She saunters over handing it to me. I down the straight black java and give her the empty mug back. She gives me a soft smile and in return I smile back. Things will never be more than this between us again. Pretty girl, tragic history, and probably one of those most compassionate people I have ever encountered in my life. Why she stays around here I have no idea. One day she will make some man happy. That man won’t be me.
Havoc sits at a table to the back corner going over some papers and I make my way to him.
“Mornin’,” I say sitting across from our club President and one of my lifelong friends.
“Schematics are bullshit, codes and shit,” he mutters sliding some of the documents to me.
Havoc purchased an old bar in town and we’ve all been helping as we can as he tries to remodel it.
I glance it over, “why do they keep failing the electrical. That shit had an occupancy license before you bought it.”
He looks up at me, “who the fuck knows, brother. You look like shit,” he tells honestly. “You sleep any?”
I make a tisk sound, “about as much as you.”
Havoc and I both were the last to retreat to our rooms from the party last night. Tyrant was the first to take off with his woman. They just finished their cabin. Her daughter Gracie Joy didn’t need to be all up in here during a party. Blair is big on being present with her little girl, but she had Twilah watch her for them to come over for a few hours. It wasn’t long after they left that Twilah joined us. Obviously with her babysitting duty over, she was ready for fun.
Creed and Lottie stayed a little longer before they too bounced to have time together.
I’m happy to see my closest brothers find their soul mates. That isn’t in the cards for me, though. Too many scars on my soul.
Havoc is always on watch, guardian over all of us. He normally is the last to leave the space once he knows every patched brother has either gotten deep in a pussy or passed the fuck out.
I hung around with him until it was time to call it done. With a slap to Twilah’s ass, she followed me to my room two hours ago where I gave her three orgasms before blowing my load.
Sleep.
Well, it isn’t my friend. Which is why I sent Twilah on her way before she got any ideas to dream any dreams in my bed. I don’t share my bed for more than a fuck. I never fall asleep with anyone in the same room anymore.
Some things will haunt me forever, especially in the darkness of closing my eyes.
Ghoul comes over with his plate piled high giving us a nod and smirk as he passes to sit at the table behind us.
“You two are missing out,” he states taking a bite of a biscuit with some kind of red jelly falling out of the back.
I smile wide, rubbing my belly, “gotta protect my girlish figure,” I mutter knowing damn well, I’m going to be getting my own plate filled to the brim just like him.
“Fucker, you have a body fat percentage that is a flat damn line.” Havoc shit talks back to me. “You’re not twelve anymore you shithead.”
I smile even bigger. Yeah, I was the pudgy kid. My gramps used to call me dough boy because I came out of my momma’s belly with rolls, he would tell everyone.
High school came along with it playing football. I think all kids raised in the deep south feel the pull to play at some point in their upbringing. Just like country club residents raise golfers, here in rural Alabama, we raise football players. Getting into the sport meant hitting weights. Quickly, I slimmed down and trimmed up.
After high school, college didn’t appeal to me. I met with a recruiter that made the United States Navy sound like a free vacation opportunity to see the world.
I took what was offered and headed out of here. BUDS training almost broke me. It’s a necessary Hell in order to weed out those who aren’t mentally strong enough to be a Navy SEAL. The Navy was my life until it wasn’t.
When I got back here, my closest friends had started the Kings of Carnage Alabama charter after Havoc and Tyrant originally patched with some of the Georgia boys. With the opportunity to grow the club, the original Kings gave the green light for our chapter. There is nothing that will ever replace my brothers in arms, but having the Kings has literally saved my life.
A Purple Heart and Navy Cross mean a lot but they change nothing. They don’t give Blanca his leg back, they don’t give me the feeling back in three of my fingers or replace the lost tissue scarring my forearm, and they don’t give life back to the five men in my unit killed during that mission.
The shit still keeps me up at night. If I am honest with myself, it probably always will. It’s why no one ever sleeps with me. The nightmares are vivid and my subconscious will react in accordance.
Unfortunately, Kitty learned that the hard way. Solid fuck that woman gives as good as she gets, but waking up to me choking her while telling her I planned to watch the life drain from her eyes didn’t leave her feeling so great about giving me anything ever again.
She’s cool about it considering. She says she doesn’t blame me. She’s even offered up her pussy for another round. I can’t do it though.
I learned a hard lesson that night, one I will carry with me to the end of time.
Some people, men like me, need to be alone. It simply is how it’s meant to be. Not everyone gets to have love, marriage, kids, and the dream.
Fuck for fuck’s sake because we all need release, but do not share the bed outside the time it takes to bust a nut, and never fall asleep with anyone near.
In fact, I take it so serious that when my body screams at me the fatigue needs to win, I lock myself in my bedroom with three individual locks, one of which is a combination so that I can’t sleep walk and hurt anyone else around me.
I know the man I am.
I know every mistake I have made.
I know every kill I’ve made.
I know every hurt I’ve caused.
Which is why I know, I will never have love again.
Not that I deserve that either.
Had what I thought was love. Had what I thought was family. Learned the hard way, nothing is ever what it seems, especially not women and love.
War is pain.
Love is pain.
Loyalty carries you through.