Page 21 of Ghoul

20

Ghoul

After taking a much longer than necessary cold shower and having one hell of a lengthy conversation with my cock regarding the action we wouldn’t be chasing tonight, I took a deep breath. It was time to face her. Erection or not. All it took was one accidental glance of her gorgeous ass, and I was harder than steel. The sexual tension was overflowing, and if I didn’t get a release soon, I would explode. I felt like a fucking teenage virgin again whenever I was in the same room with her. Of course, there were plenty of club whores around who were more than willing to relieve me of my current predicament, but I wouldn’t take any of them up on their offers. All it took was one night with Ginger, and they did nothing for me. I wasn’t happy that my dick had taken on a course of its own after I told myself I wouldn’t pursue her anymore. I’d ruined enough for her; I’d find another means of release. It wasn’t as simple as that, though. My guy refused to do anything around any other woman, not even the tiniest twinge on his part, which pissed me off beyond belief.

When I entered my room, soft snores left her body in a rhythmic pattern, and I paused to pull the covers over her in case any of the guys came into my room searching for me. They didn’t need to see her in only a towel. With that thought, my eyes blinked slowly. Who the fuck was I? The old me wouldn’t have given a damn who saw a naked woman in my bed. She was not just any piece of ass to me, and I knew it. I couldn’t explain what it was that drew me to her, but it was impossible to deny it, nonetheless. If she needed this from me, for me to be her strength until she found her own, I would do it. Of course, I would much rather be repeatedly burying my stubborn shaft as deep as I could into her, but I could be tolerant of this, too. I owed her that much.

After getting dressed, closing the door, and locking it, I headed to church. While I was locked up, Tin Man assumed the position of vice president, which is what I would have advanced to had I been a free man. Tonight, there were big changes to be made in our rank, though. Spider wanted to step down as president and name me as his successor. Of course, It would be put to a vote for all of the patched members because that was how we handled shit. Each brother got to weigh in on who was going to lead our club, it was how a fucking brotherhood operated.

Spider only had a few more good years of riding left in him, if he was lucky. Every time he straddled his ride, it was harder for him to climb back off it. We all saw it, but no one had the balls to say anything, including me. Truly, none of us wanted to see that day come, so it being here was bittersweet. He was a hell of a president; he’d gotten our chapter out of countless situations that would have otherwise been detrimental to all of us. For instance, his deal with the FBI. He was doing what he thought was best for the club, shit just got fucked sideways along the way, and we all ended up in the mix. None of that had anything to do with his reason for stepping down, though. While we were running around as hired guns, taking out the names on the list one at a time, he fell off his sled and landed his ass in the emergency room. While he was there, he got the news no biker wanted. Hell, no one would want to hear, really. He was diagnosed with degenerative disc disease. There were treatments available, but it wasn’t something that could be cured. I would be lying if I didn’t admit it fucking gutted me when he announced he wasn’t sure how long he could lead us anymore. It was even worse when he told us that he wouldn’t.

Since he was out of commission for a while, he took the back burner from ridding the world of the SOBs we hunted. I took the lead on the mission, and Wily was usually my second. After I assumed Spider’s position, Wily was to fill mine. Plus, we made a hell of a good pair. When I took action, his cunningness complemented me perfectly. Tin Man and Wily took turns hanging back with Spider and to keep an eye on Ginger. I never told her where or what we were doing. First, when it came to this, the less she knew, the better. After the discovery of the little girl’s body, Ginger’s sanity was hanging on by a very worn, thin thread. Secondly, it didn’t matter how fond I was of her or the fact the rest of my brothers enjoyed her company, she wasn’t part of our club. She was at the clubhouse because she didn’t want to go home, and I slept better at night, knowing she was safe. She wasn’t my old lady, though. Honestly, I didn’t know what classification she was when it came to me. The only thing I was certain of was I wasn’t as on edge while in her company. She leveled out my anxiety to a manageable level. Well, I guess it was a combination of her, the drugs, and the peace of mind given to me after we marked another name off our list.

When we needed help, we’d grab one of the prospects to ride along with us, giving them about the same responsibilities we had Sac. It was enough to get their feet wet without having them commit the actual act of killing. Spider and the rest of us patched brothers, who were aware of the whole FBI deal, agreed it was best to save the murdering for us. We were the ones in contact with the Feds, and even though they’d sworn we wouldn’t be charged for the shit, we still didn’t trust them to hold true to their word if anyone else caught wind of the deal.

The first few, we let Sac stay behind, seeing as I flung the initial victim’s guts all over him. It felt wrong to call him a victim. The way I saw it was we were bringing them the justice they deserved, doing the public a favor by getting them off the streets. If they weren’t breathing, they couldn’t hurt any more kids. If someone else didn’t share my views on that, I did not care. The ones on the list obviously hadn’t given much thought before becoming corrupt cops and other people of importance to society. I shook my head at the thought of the people we’d murdered so far. If the public only knew what the people who were supposed to be leading them were doing behind closed doors, I bet they might think twice about who they trusted. It was funny, the guys with power abused it, and we were the ones everyone was afraid of. Thankfully, all of this would be over soon. There was only one more person on the list, and we were hoping to take him out within the week.

* * *

“I don’t want to hear any pansy asses crying,” Spider gripped the neck of his beer and took a drink, his attention focused on Tin Man. We were all too aware that if anybody burst into tears, it would be him. “My old ass isn’t going anywhere.”

“Your ass is right about that,” I interrupted him, reminding him of the promise he made me. He told me I wouldn’t be doing this shit alone. He had been the closest thing to a father figure I had ever had, and I wasn’t going to let him give up on the club or himself for that matter.

“You aren’t president yet, Ghoul. There’s plenty of shit around here that needs cleaning. I’m sure Sac or one of the other prospects would gladly switch you places,” he teased with a grin, taking another pull of his beer. All of the current members had prospected under him as President, so even though he said it jokingly, we were very aware his statement held truth. Every damn one of us had taken our turn scrubbing shit or being his gopher at some point, and we did it with fucking pride. He was the last of our original members who still lived in Cleveland, so without him, we wouldn’t be Bastards.

“Damn right, Boss,” I admitted, lifting my glass of whiskey and saluting him with a nod of my head before finishing the rest of my drink.

“Anyway, Ghoul here will make a damn fine president. I have no doubt in my mind. I’m not one for sappy stories and all that shit, so what do we say, Bastards? This fucker got what it takes to be the new boss?”

The “Ayes” fired off around the room as each brother gave his consent for me to become the president of our chapter of the Royal Bastards Motorcycle Club. Each time a member spoke anxiety weaseled its damn way into my mind, even though none of them had given me a reason to think their vote would be the opposite. That was the thing about being a one-percenter club, all of the brothers had to agree on shit, or it usually didn’t happen.

“I know that’s fucking right.” Spider dropped his hands down on the table with a loud thud. “Looks like we have a new president, brothers. Let’s go do what we do best, fucking party.”

I loudly cleared my throat, everyone freezing into position, their attention on me. Spider was fucking with us, and I was surprised that I was the only one who caught on.

“Oh yeah. Almost forgot about this guy.” Spider smirked. “We got to get Wily into our Sargent At Arms position now that Ghoul gave it up.”

Wily brushed his palms together and licked his lips, excited to take over the spot he’d been groomed for. He was exactly the kind of brother we needed for the job.

“Hell yeah, brother,” Tin Man shouted and clapped Wily on the back, knocking him forward a few steps. After everyone had their chance to vote, it was official. Wily was named the new enforcer of the Cleveland, Ohio chapter.

“Let’s get this show on the road. There is beer to drink and celebrating to be done,” I announced in a loud voice before pulling Spider into my arms for a hug. I wasn’t sure how I would ever repay the man, but I would figure it out along the way. I made a silent promise to myself as we all gathered in the common area to always ensure he was here for as many club events as possible. Even when the day came that he couldn’t ride anymore, I would either go get him myself or send someone else after him.

“Fuck,” Tin Man complained when I grabbed the pool stick and raised a brow in his direction. I was a hell of a shark on the felt table but often underestimated because I wasn’t one to brag about shit. I didn’t need to sit around constantly running my mouth about my accomplishments. I knew what I had done in life, and talking about it to make myself look like more of a man did the polar opposite, in my opinion. A lot of the men who enjoyed telling everyone about the extravagant things they’d done were overcompensating for having a small dick. I didn’t need any reassuring in that department, the size of my cock was just fine. Although I was surprised Sac wasn’t one to sit around and tell stories to make people believe his was bigger. That prospect had the biggest set of nuts I’d ever seen. Those shits looked like they belonged between an elephant’s legs and not a human.

“How ‘bout it? I’ll go easy on ya.” I grinned, chalking the end of my stick before pointing it to the opposite end where the cue ball laid on point.

“Why not.” He shrugged. “Isn’t like there’s money on it.”

“There could be.”

He shook his head, and grouping the rest of the balls together, removed the rack from the slot in the table, and dropped it over them. “Not tonight, Ghoul.” He smiled.

“Next time,” I said plainly with a hint of humor to my voice, knowing damn well he would never lay money on a game again. After the night that I’d handed his ass to him and he forked over almost all of his cash to me, he hadn’t bet on a game with me since. Tin Man was a cocky fuck, and at times, he needed to be reminded of how important it was to be humble.

---