Page 44 of Tinsel & Chrome

Frosty

Ember left in the middle of the night after I fucked her brains out. She’s going to be fucking sore, and she will remember my cock deep inside her pussy.

I rub the towel over my head and toss it over the shower door. I grab my jeans, pull them up, and a black T-shirt. I finish dressing and walk out of my room.

I walk over to my Brothers at the bar and slide onto the stool.

“Prospect, get me a beer,”

I say, resting my arm on the bar countertop.

Ember’s mischievous face slides into my mind. Yeah, she’s taking fucking residences.

That’s not good.

“What the fuck! We waited for you to go get some grub,”

Ice says, shaking his head.

“Fucker, I was busy,”

I say, grabbing the beer.

I take a long pull and look at my Brother. He’s fucking have a blast with this. He knows that I don’t fucking nice girls.

“Fuck, did you really fuck that bitch,”

Ice asks, peeling off the label on the beer bottle.

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have,”

I grunt, grinding my molars.

I didn’t have the right to fuck her. She’s not a fucking whore, and now I ruined her. It’s fucking with my head.

“Yeah, you left us hanging,”

Psycho says.

“Fucker, you couldn’t get enough of that sweet bitch,”

Enforcer says, smirking.

“Fuckers! You will not talk about her, ever,”

I hiss, gathering my brows.

“Whoa! Brother, just kidding,”

Enforcer says, raising his hands.

“Fuck! Let’s get some grub; I’m starving. I need gas,”

I say, taking a long pull.

“Let’s go,”

Ice says, nodding.

We walk out of the clubhouse and into the parking lot to retrieve our bikes. I get on my bike, pulling on my helmet, gloves, and sunglasses. We pull out of the clubhouse and onto the road. We ride to the gas station, and I pull up to the pump. My Brothers also needed gas. I slide off my bike and pull off my helmet, and that’s when I see the little boy crying in the back of the old Honda. My gut tightens, and my chest aches. I don’t like it; something is wrong.

I enter my card, and I start filling up my tank. It didn’t take long, and I put away the gas hose. I pull on my helmet and slide onto my bike.

A huge fucker walks out of the gas station store and opens the driver’s door. He turns and glares at the little boy. He’s no older than seven, and I can see that he’s scared of the fucker.

The emotions are bottling up in my throat, and I know what the kid is feeling. The man slaps the boy and sends him against the door. The kid hits his head on the door. Then the kid moves his hands up to rub his head; that’s when I see the lacerations on his wrists.

The man starts the car and pulls out of the station.

“Brothers, I’m going after him,” I say.

“Let’s do it,”

Ice says, nodding.

Psycho and Enforcer nod and turn on their bikes. I pull out of the gas station and follow the car from a distance. I don’t want the man to know that I’m coming after him.

That fucker is dead.

I watch the man drive down a run-down area where the small houses are in need of repairs and a fresh coat of paint. I watch the Honda pull into a driveway at the end of the street.

I pull up to the side of the curb a few houses back and get off my bike. I pull off my helmet and jog down the street. The group of teenage fuckers move when they see me.

“Keep your traps closed,”

I growl, glaring at them as I pass.

These fuckers are just small time thugs. My Brothers are behind me, and I run up to the door.

“Stop,”

a child yells.

My chest tightens, and my mind returns to the times that I was in pain. I know what the child is feeling.

I take a step back and kick the door down. I run into the small house, pulling out my Glock.

“Fucker, stop,”

I yell, looking at the open floor plan; the living room and kitchen have dog pens, with other children inside them.

The small children curl into themselves, and my anger flares.

“Who the fuck are you,”

the man asks, gathering his brows.

“What the fuck are you doing,”

I growl, pointing my gun at him.

“Get the fuck out of my house and out of my business,”

the man yells.

The fucker doesn’t look scared, but then my Brothers walk into the house, then the bastard backs up.

I look at the small crying boy, who was in the car at the gas station. The bastard was abusing him, and that fucking incites a rage that makes me see red.

“It looks like you have been abusing these kids in more ways than one,” I yell.

“Jack, what’s going on,”

another man walks into the living room from the hall.

“Run,”

Jack yells.

“Shut your trap,” I yell.

My Brother Ice aims his gun at the new fucker.

“Motherfucker, walk back to the room,”

Ice yells, walking closer to the man.

The guy walks down the hall, and Ice follows the bastard.

“Fucker, walk down the hall,”

I yell at the man.

My Brothers stay in the living room, talking to the kids.

I aim at his ugly mug and stop. I don’t want to traumatize the kids.

“Get out of my business,”

Jack yells.

“Fucker, start walking,” I growl.

“What the fuck,”

Jack says.

We walk down the hall to the only bedroom. Ice has the other man on his knees.

“Fuckers get on your knees,”

I yell, pressing my gun in his back.

The bastard falls onto his knees, and I shoot him in the leg. I shoot the other fucker in the leg. They start crying, falling onto their side, holding their injured leg.

I look over at the bed, and there’s a young girl tied up and naked. She seems alive, but she’s not awake.

“Motherfuckers! You’re the fucking lowest of the lowest filth of humankind,”

I yell.

“You’re fucking dead!”

I shoot the fucker between his eyes, and Ice shoots the other fucker.

“Motherfuckers, rot in hell,” I yell.

“We need to call for clean up,”

Ice says, walking over to the bed and pulling the sheet to cover up the girl.

I pull out my cell and run my fingers over the screen.

The cell rings, and Prez picks up on the second ring.

“Prez, we need clean up,”

I say, staring at the motherfucker’s dead eyes.

I wish I had made him suffer before killing him, but I had no time for that.

“What the fuck happened,”

Prez growls.

“I killed the two fuckers that were abusing kids! I couldn’t allow the fucker to continue breathing. The kids are in fucking dog pens. Prez, I had to do it,”

I say, looking at Ice.

“Fuck! I’ll send the cleaners, but I’m calling the po-po on payroll. The sergeant will take care of the kids,”

Prez growls.

“Okay, make sure to tell the po-po to give us the addresses of where the kids end up. I don’t want them to be put in another abusive situation ever again,”

I say, fisting my hands.

“Stay there until the po-po gets there, but it will be after I have the cleaners come and do their job. We don’t want the fucker to have any evidence,”

Prez says.

“Thanks.”

“Brothers, Prez is sending the cleaners, but we need to wait until they’re done and the po-po gets here. I want to ensure that these kids will be taken care of,”

I say, looking at the kids.

“I think that we should leave them as they are so the po-po can see what the fuckers did to them,”

Ice growls.

“Yeah, that’s the plan,”

I say, crossing my arms.

*****

It’s about fucking time that the po-po gets here. I recognize the fucker, Seargent Miser. Motherfucker, he never did anything when he showed up when I was a kid. I wonder if he remembers me.

I stand in the middle of the living room, looking at the po-po.

“What the fuck is this,”

Seargent Miser yells, resting his hands on his waist.

“These children were being abused! Now, make sure that they’re taken care of. Get them back home,”

I growl, lowering my eyelids.

“Fuck! Where are the fuckers,”

Miser asks, looking at me.

The fucker doesn’t recognize me or Ice.

“We took care of them,”

I growl, curling my upper lip.

“That’s not how this works,”

Miser snaps, looking at us.

“Miser, it works how we want it to work! Don’t forget that we own your ass,”

Enforcer says, fisting his hands.

“Motherfuckers! This is fucked up,”

Miser says.

“Son of bitch! Make the report that the fuckers were gone. Hurry up and get this done. These kids don’t need to suffer anymore,”

I say, looking at the young kid who was being abused.

“Make sure that your men don’t fucking talk,”

Enforcer says, staring at the Seargent.

“Fucker! I got this,”

Miser snaps, gathering his brow.

“Hurry the fuck up,”

Psycho growls standing near the door.

“Get good people involved to care for these kids, and I want the information on where they’re at,”

Ice hisses, grinding his molars.

“Fuck yes! We need to check in to ensure they’re safe. These kids will never suffer again,”

I growl, crossing my arms.

“Fuck,”

Miser growls, walking out to get his men.

*****

The next day...

“Frosty, it’s been a while,”

Twix says, leaning against me and grabbing my arm.

I take a pull of my beer and glance down at the bitch. Fuck, for some reason, I don’t want any of the clubs pussy.

Fuck me!

“Get gone,”

I say, shaking my arm.

“Frosty, don’t be mean,”

Twix pouts, looking at me.

“Don’t make me fucking push you off me,”

I growl, gathering my brows.

I don’t want to get rough with her, but she doesn’t get it. I inhale and exhale, glaring at her.

“Okay,”

Twix says, pulling away.

She walks away to join the club whores in the corner of the clubhouse.

“Fuck, they’re getting so clingy,”

Psycho says, shaking his head.

“Brothers, we need to get to the post to man the toy collection,”

Enforcer says, taking the beer from the countertop.

“Fuck, can we get some grub,”

Ice asks, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Let’s go now so we have time to grab some grub,”

I say, sliding off the bar stool.

We walk out of the clubhouse and ride out to get the grub.

*****

Fuck me!

It’s that girl from the strip club, Ember.

“Fuck, here comes trouble,”

I mutter, resting my hands on my waist.

I stare at the girl striding straight at me, swaying her hips. She’s all curves, curves that I know. I look at her eyes; yeah, she's up to no good.

I can see it in her mischievous eyes and that smile.

Fuck, but she’s fucking hot!