Gang Up: A Bikerland Novel (12 page)

Something shifted in the air. He could feel it before anything actually happened. Some momentous turning in the atmosphere.

And then it happened—an enormous flame erupted from the south side of the compound, hitting the wall. An explosion.

The sound was deafening, and the heat of the night sucked away briefly as all the air outside burned up and inward to the sudden tower of fire. And then a hot, terrible wind as the flames pushed the air back out. Immediately Case's skin began to sweat.

The garage
, he thought, a dead feeling emptying his chest.
How many were left inside
?

Several riders rushed outside, hoping to look at what happened. But Case knew explosions. He knew terror.

When he was young and Temple had not yet been fully tamed, a particularly virulent set of gangsters—not all that different from the Cauldron, really—who had decided that they would run a guerrilla war against old Titus.

The war had lasted for the better part of three years, finally ending in a shoot-out in the eponymous Temple in the middle of town. Titus had the gangster in charge crucified, not cutting his body down for more than six months. The desert winds and irradiated heat stripped his body to the bone and by the time they buried him the only thing that was whole was his pelvic bone.

But before they had been snuffed out, the guerrillas loved to use explosions. And explosions never came in ones—always twos. One to get people to look, and the second one to shred them with debris when they were standing up like idiot prairie dogs barking at each about the latest disturbance.

Case ran and shoved his men back inside—his immense strength able to take care of any reluctance his men showed.

Trajan was beneath him. An old hand, and loyal. “What gives, boss?”

“Shut up and stay down,” Case growled.

A few seconds later, another explosion boomed through the town. This one sounded bigger than the first.

“What was that?” asked Trajan.

It came from the same south side of the compound.

“Grain tower, I think.” Case spat. “And the garage, the first one. Son of a bitch wants to starve us out. What was the guard detail there?”

Trajan knew. “Five riders, boss.”

“Goddammit.”

Five men dead or maimed, that was for sure. Even from just hearing the explosion inside the bunker, he knew it was bad.

Outside the whole town was lit up. It looked like daylight; it was that bright. Shadows danced under buildings from the flickering flames. A man walked down the street, stumbling and shuffling, his entire back smoking. Case could see easily through the dark alleys between all the shanty-built buildings, the stacks of sheet metal and plywood that had been arranged like children’s blocks.

He had to go help. He gathered two men and told them to gather two more, and so on, until everybody was helping. There couldn’t be a panic. Not in Temple.

Just as he was about to go through the gates proper, Troy put his hands on his shoulders and stopped him.

“What are you doing?” Case asked him.

“What are
you
doing?”

“We’ve got to help these people, Troy. It’s our duty.”

He shook his his head. “There ain’t no duty but survival, Case. Didn’t your Daddy teach you that?”

“It’s what he taught me that’s making me help. What did he teach you? How to stir up a war?”

Troy appeared willing to let that one slide.

“The more buildings that burn down, the better we’ll be able to fight him. The only buildings we control directly are in the compound. Anything outside of it is expendable. We've got to put out our own fires first.”

“These people depend on us for safety, Troy.”

“They should depend on themselves. We do.”

“We depend on them to
pay
us. Where do you think we’ll be without their funding?”

“I'd like to see them try to survive for long without paying us. Why are you insisting that everything be fair? Ain't nothing's fair. We already got all the power. All you’re asking for in a negotiation in terms. A fluctuation in prices from time to time. I'm asking for the same thing in different words.”

“You’re asking for people to get hurt.”

“People get hurt all the time. They die.”

“Not today.”

He left Troy to deal with the fires in the Compound. He knew he wouldn't change the man's mind. Let him deal with the Compound, then. Someone had to.

Case helped all he could. Running through the streets. He told everyone to gather on the North side of town with whatever weapons they could carry. Any able-bodied men needed to get on the water brigade and start chugging pails into the flames.

There was a brigade out there already started, standing in front of the flames where they threatened to spread out from the Compound walls and into the rest of Temple.

Brall was there. Him and his men, doing their part from all appearances—trying to control the flames.

A sick pit rose in Case's stomach.

The son of a bitch. Hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t he killed enough of his men?

Rage boiling, Case walked up to him and punched him in the mouth. Brall stumbled a bit, and then smiled. His lip was bleeding. He waved his men off and gestured for them to keep working on the blaze.

“I haven’t had someone hit me like that in some time,” he said. Then his gaze became steely and deadly. “Don’t do it again.”

“You started this fire.”

“I did not. But I can see your point.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t? I don’t care if it wasn’t you personally. It was you, what you did to my—to Abigail. That started this. You,
you
, your hand, started this fire.”

“I don't have to explain anything of myself to you. Not a thing. I didn't start this fire. And now I’m helping to extinguish it. Do you want me to leave?”

Case's fists tightened. The one still stung from bouncing off Brall's face.

“I want to punch you.”

“You can fight me, or we can get these folks out of there. What do you think?”

He was right, damn his bones. Right to the core.

“I think we can fight later.”

“Good.”

They worked together then, the rest of the night. Slopping water from one place to the next. When they finished, the embers burning down low, Case tried to find Brall again—now he
would
fight him.

But Brall was gone into the night, and his men with him.

––––––––

A
bigail snuck up behind the guard posted at the end of the long underground hall. She could seduce him, but that took a long time, and she was in a hurry.

She had been gone for too long from Case’s grasp.

There was a pipe in her hands. She swung it hard over his head, and he collapsed with a crash. It was possible she had hit too hard—that he wasn't unconscious, but dead.

She didn’t care. Nothing mattered. Nothing but being with Case.

It was this simple truth that had allowed her to do all that she had in the last forty-eight hours. Robin and her friendship didn’t matter. Family didn’t matter. Starting a war didn’t matter. Having eight studs fuck her brutally giving her orgasm after brilliantly perfect orgasm didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was that at the end of the day, she was wrapped around Case’s body, giving him the love he so clearly deserved. And in doing so, finally, he would give
her
the love she so clearly deserved.

Chaos was the best way to accomplish this, that was all. The structure of Temple, of the Family, had been in her way. And now, soon, it wouldn’t be. With no stupid expectations from society hanging around, she could fuck her brother just like she was meant to.

She knew a secret way into the Compound via a sewer tunnel outside the walls. It was a secret way—known only to herself and a select few others. She had to crawl through a series of busted pipes, with all sorts of nastiness getting on her as she worked. Finally, when she exited, she traversed up to her room and showered, changing clothes, so that when she met Case again she would do so looking lovely.

She did not have many dresses, but she wore one then. It was a light rose color, the neckline scooping deep just above her nipples. Her braless tits bounced happily as she imagined Case's eyes on her. The dress clung tightly to her hips, the hemline well above her knee, showing off every part of her busty young blond body.

It was close to dawn now, and a great many men were still dealing with the fire at the Compound's perimeter. Bikes had been drawn out from the garage and put in rows—those working, those not working. With so many occupied, it was simple to sneak into the bunker and find her way to Case's room.

Once there, she found Robin and Case there already, speaking in what Abigail knew already was some conspiratorial, lover's tone. That fucking
bitch
had already moved in on her man. Abigail's rage began to slide upwards, taking hold of her throat.

“I don’t get it,” said Case. “He started the fire. Why would he help put it out?”

“Why did you kill his man?”

“I didn’t. That was Troy.”

“You didn’t stop Troy, though.”

“No. I couldn’t. It ... it got out of hand.”

“I wonder how many people will say that during this war? I wonder how many sides?”

They looked intimate. Close. She watched as Case’s hand came on Robin’s shoulder. Case looked closely at Robin, doing that little shuddering sigh he did when he was exhausted but horny. His eyes firmly affixed on Robin's breasts in her tiny blouse, the slick wetness of her luscious lips.

“I could really use some release, Robin. And with you taking the job, I really need to know that you can stand up to what I hand out.”

Abigail saw, she
saw
, the way that Robin's eyes lit up at the offer. Of course, Case noticed it too. His hand dropped to her nipple and began slowly to rub the erect flesh between his fingertips. Robin let out a soft moan, her hands coming up against Case's chest. All that muscle, so thick and hard, made for pummeling women like the toys they were born to be. Robin was so beautiful, and Case so incredibly virile. She would get pregnant right away. She'd be Case's perfect little cocksucking wife. Abigail could see it in Robin's face already, the parting of her lips, how her hands dragged down to Case's abdomen.

Case leaned in and kissed Robin slow. She turned away, but Case found her again, locking his lips to her. Robin, a good girl, began to kiss him back. Her jaw working against his, hands sliding around his muscled torso.

No
.

Abigail’s entire being thrummed with rejection, and she burst into the room, eyes wild. The two parted at her sudden entrance.

“Abigail?” Robin exclaimed.

“What are you doing here?” Case asked.

“Don’t touch her,” said Abigail. “She’s...she’s unclean. Tainted.”

Case snorted. “You’re one to talk.”

Abigail ignored this. He would understand later. She would make him understand.

“Robin and Brall, they—”

“Abigail!”

Robin was shocked. Her face reading full betrayal. Abigail didn’t care.

“Those two...” Abigail smiled. “They were together.” She could see that Case didn’t understand. “Two days ago. At the general store. They fucked like rabbits. I even heard Robin tell him that she loved him.”

Case turned to Robin. “Is that true?”

She looked away, sullen. Was it because she was exposed, or because she hadn’t gotten to suck off Case? Either way, Abigail felt glad to see her hurt. Robin was
not
allowed to give Case pleasure.

Robin's voice was very quiet. “Yes.

“You just don’t stop, do you?” He shook his head. “I see it now. You started all this. And for what?”

“For you, Case. Because I want us to be together again.”

His face suddenly was stoic—a warning sign. “We are not alone, Abigail.”

“She knows already. I told her. She doesn’t care. I want you. I
thought
she wouldn’t get in my way.”

“I
won’t
, Abigail!” Robin tried to step forward, but Case held her back. “I won’t, but you won’t let anyone help. You’re so impatient, and—”

“Quiet.” He turned coldly to Abigail. “I don’t want to see you again after this.”

“What?”

“You betrayed us, Abigail. All of us. You set all of this in motion. You’re dead to me. Leave now, before I have someone lock you up.”

––––––––

A
n hour later, Troy entered Robin's room and sat down in front of her with the chair-back in front of him, under his hands. His fingers dug into the wood, warping it this way and that. He enjoyed breaking things. Any last thing he could get his hands on.

“I’m disappointed in you, sister.”

“I’m not your sister.”

“Ah.” He smiled. “Another disappointment already. Denying me. And me being the only real family you’ve got left.”

“I have family. I have The Family.”

“Do you now? And do you think you’ll still have them when each and every one of them knows where you’re wandering cunt has been off to?”

She had no answer for that.

Guilt ravaged her mind. Guilt for betraying the Family. Guilt for betraying Abigail by kissing Case. Case had kissed her, to be sure, but after a few seconds she had kissed him right back. She couldn't help herself. She was only a good girl, after all, and Case was such a fucking hunk.

“We can always find other girls, Robin. Other girls good with numbers, even. You’re good, for sure. But how good you are don’t rank that high if you’re fucking men outside the Family. Men contrary to the Family, especially.”

“You can’t tell me who to sleep with and who not to.”

“You’re right. I can’t. But I can tell you what will happen if you keep going down on this path.”

He stood up and took her hand, placing it on his cock through his pants. It was hard already. Bulging. So big.

Big like Brall's. Not as big...but...still...so, so big...

It throbbed underneath her touch. Robin felt like she was hyperventilating, but her breaths were calm. Even. Measured. Why did her soul feel like it was swallowing madness when every thought came to her so cool and clear? She felt drugged, though she knew she hadn’t been.