Page 1 of Devil's Plaything

1

Zeke

I wipe the coke from my nose, leaning back on the sofa while the addictive drug does its thing. I wait for the euphoria but it doesn’t come. Christ, this used to help me. Used to keep the ever simmering rage inside me at bay. But my demons are no longer satisfied.

Grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the table, I stick one in my mouth and light it before standing. I’m going stir crazy in the clubhouse. Ever since I was shot, I’ve been laying low. Nothing like taking a bullet in the stomach to fuck up your social life. Of course, Syra left me long before that shit went down. Can’t say that I blame her. I’m not exactly boyfriend material.

“Hey, man,” Snake says. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks. You always know how to cheer me up.”

Snake is our president and I respect the fuck out of him. He’s put up with a lot of shit from me. I have issues. Okay, that’s a damn understatement, but the club has always been my outlet. I put that in jeopardy when I went after one of the Rebel Souls’ old ladies. The rival club has been a thorn in my side for quite some time.

“We haven’t talked much about what happened.”

I shrug. “I’m not much of a talker.”

“Cut the bullshit, man. The club has had it with you. You’re walking on thin ice and if I hadn’t pulled rank, you’d be out. You crossed a line going after Torch’s old lady. Trying to help that kid is what saved your ass.”

I’ve questioned myself time and again why I did that. Why did I bother getting involved? She isn’t my fucking kid. In fact, she’s Torch and Lizzie’s daughter and I hate both of them. They could be lying in a ditch somewhere bleeding out and I wouldn’t care. So, why the hell do I care if someone took their kid?

But I couldn’t let them do it. A five-year-old kid has no business paying for the sins of their parents. Trying to put a stop to that little girl being taken is why I took a bullet to the stomach. Now, I suppose it’s why I’m still a member of Devil’s Inferno, even if they don’t want me.

“If the club wants me gone, I’ll fucking go,” I mutter, pissed off. These men are supposed to be my brothers. Supposed to accept my fuck-ups and still have my back.

“You’re not out unless I say you’re out, but you have to find a damn way to keep your ass out of trouble. If you bring a mess to our fucking doorstep again, you’re gone.”

I nod, knowing I deserve it even if I don’t like it. The club is the only family I have and they don’t even want me around. I take another drag of my cigarette and head out. Snake gave me a clear fucking warning. Get my shit together or lose my patch. I’m an Enforcer with the Devil’s Inferno. That means more to me than continuing my own personal vendetta against the Rebel Souls.

I’ll find an outlet for my rage. Figure out a way to let my demons play. Preferably with someone who has a wet pussy, tight ass, and a mouth made for sucking dick.

2

Cleo

I thank my Uber driver and hope Nitro will have my car fixed soon. I walk inside the club, ignoring the leering men. Shawn is here again. Lately, he spends more time here than he does at our place. I didn’t sign up to be a roommate. Hell, I don’t know what I signed up for. When I met Shawn two months ago, he said all the right things. He did all the right things. I made decisions with my pussy instead of my head. Thinking that sort of way is supposed to be a guy thing.

Three blissful weeks of nonstop fucking then the honeymoon stage was over. Rent was due and that dick I thought was so magical, turned its attention elsewhere. To the Fuzzy Peach. He claims it’s not the women. Claims he’s handling business, making moves. I’m calling bullshit. Nothing keeps a man away from a pussy as good as mine except for another pussy.

The woman on the stage dances seductively, cupping her tits and rubbing her nipples. The asshole could get more than this at home, but no. He leaves me with my vibrator and comes here for a look-but-don’t-touch show.

I spot Shawn with a few of his buddies, waving the damn rent money in front of him. I make my way over to a bouncer, slipping him a twenty so he doesn’t cart my ass off stage.

All my life I’ve been different from other girls. I’ve been called cold, heartless. I don’t swoon over men. Don’t get my heart caught up with feelings. Don’t give a flying fuck what people think of me. Seeing your mother get shot in the face right in front of you will change how you see everything.

The dancer exits the stage and the bouncer gives me a nod of approval. He’s grinning, ready to enjoy the show and I’m going to give him, Shawn, and everyone else in here a damn good one.

Shawn hasn’t broken my heart. I miss getting dick on a regular basis, not him. But I won’t be made a fool of. And I’m about to show him exactly what he’s lost.

3

Zeke

The Fuzzy Peach is packed tonight but that’s not unusual when we have a game going. The Devils have a gambling ring we run in the back. Keeps money in our pockets when we aren’t under contract to get women. The Rebels can’t stand the fact that we deal in trafficking. Honestly, I don’t think Snake is too keen on it anymore. It’s damn good money, but there’s a lot of risk. He’s been talking about going legit for a while now. I don’t even know what that looks like.

“You joining a game?” Griller, one of our prospects, asks.

We have blackjack and poker every Friday night. I almost answer him when I spot the woman on the stage. She isn’t one of our usuals. “Sail” by Awolnation blares from the speakers. She grinds her body, which isn’t covered much by the leather outfit she wears.

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