The second story in the Midnight Rider series of stories.
This story was never intended for any publication hence the unrestricted and uncensored nature of the language used.
Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it !
Kevin
Midnight Rider – Daughter of the Devil himself
Strange unfamiliar, almost animal noises rang in his ears as the alcohol-soaked fog slowly started to lift from his brain. Opening his eyes in the still dark room, trying to remember where the hell he was and why he was naked, he became conscious of a lump sleeping next to him. Dirty peroxide blonde hair fanned across the pillow as he realised the noises that had jarred him awake were nothing more than the muffled snores of sleeping beauty beside him. The faint musky smell of sex mingled with stale sweat hit his nostrils as he felt the damp sheets beneath him clinging to his thighs. He reckoned he must have been drunker than usual as he could not remember who she was.
Not wishing to wake her up and having an embarrassing ‘morning-after-the-night-before’ moment, he groped around for his mobile. After rummaging around on the dresser he found the cheap little Nokia he used and switched on the display. The feeble light it threw was enough for him to locate his discarded clothes strewn all over the dingy little room. Pulling on his faded black t-shirt he winced as the fabric moved across his back. Feeling around beneath the garment he felt 3 long welts pulsing hotly, marks that were all too familiar to him. Marks that could have only been made by fingernails digging in ecstasy. Moving softly in the almost dark house he picked up his boots and felt his way down a short corridor. A couple of cats lying on a shabby couch nearly made him shit his pants as they stretched out luxuriously, eyes glowing eerily like two golden pearls of liquid fire. Praying they wouldn’t start yowling, he slowly took in the room he was in trying to get his bearings and looking for an exit. His eyes fell on a cluster of photo frames on a low table in the corner. Picking one up he looked at the fairly recent snapshot of a girl in denim shorts posing with a grey and green chop. He correctly guessed that this was Peroxide Blonde in the bed. He put it down and picked up another picture. Here Peroxide Blonde (her hair was more of a chestnut colour here) was posing with some grimy looking guy in biker garb; long hair, unkempt beard, skull cap, leather pants and the ubiquitous leather vest. An insignia of some kind was embroidered on the left chest but was too small and dark to work out what it read. He wondered who he was, a brother perhaps? Whoever he was he looked vaguely familiar, like he had seen him somewhere.
Curious as to whom Peroxide Blonde really was, he made his way to the tiny kitchen just to the left of him. Dirty dishes lay in the sink, the remains of last night’s meal still on the table. Whoever she was, Peroxide Blonde was no Cinderella! Spotting her purse on the counter top, he flipped it open and took a peek inside. The credit cards were made out to a Peggy something or another. Discarding it he reached idly for the ID card which had fallen out with the credit cards. Her date of birth made her out to be 25, born bla blab la, address bla blab la ... and status: Married! Probably to the same bloke he had seen in the picture. This was not good! Time to make an exit before biker boy decided to head back home. Out of the front door he went, taking care to pull it gently behind him.
The cool night breeze filled his lungs as he made his way down the street to where he could see his bike parked in a little clearing next to a rusty old Volkswagen. Probably the Blonde’s. Sitting down at the kerb he finally pulled on his scuffed leather boots, noting a new tear in the upper part. He’d have to have that repaired as he couldn’t bear to part with them. They’d served him well and been all over the place with him and the bike. Retrieving the helmet from its lock beneath the seat, he slowly thumbed the bike to life, willing it not to wake up the whole neighbourhood in the process. The less people noticed and remembered him the better! You never know when Lover Boy would make enquiries. Someone was sure to remember the six foot biker on a white and red bike sneaking about in the early morning.
Easing away from the kerb slowly he waited till he was at the end of the road and then switched on the headlights and gunned the engine, surging forward trying to get as far away as possible from the house and the she-devil inside. Hugging the tank with his knees and concentrating on the road ahead, he tried in vain to recall the events of the night before but the alcohol still lodged in his brain was like a freight train running through the middle of his head. The ride might ease his plight.
Turning into the street where he lived he throttled down and let the bike coast to the front of the lock up garage he rented. He didn’t want another row with the elderly couple who lived upstairs. Damn them! ...always reporting him to the pigs about how the noise woke them up! Bike safely in the garage, he religiously started to wipe it down with a clean rag, noting a couple of new paint chips he picked up along the way. Satisfied that the bike wasn’t going to rot on him; he locked up and went up to bed. Taking off his clothes, he noticed again the welts on his back and another couple of scratches he had missed. Whoever she was, Peggy sure was a wildcat! Again he wondered in vain how he had ended up at her place. That thought stayed with him till he finally drifted off to an un-fitful rest filled with dreams of wild rides, wild times and even wilder women with blood red nails dripping blood.
Waking up from his nightmare at around seven in the evening he resolved (again!) to lay off the booze for a while. He headed for the shower as he had broken out in a sweat during his lie in. The cold shower revived him up no end and after a couple of sandwiches from whatever he had in the fridge he was starting to feel almost human again. Determined to find out more about the exploits of last night he decided to head out and try to re-trace his steps.
His trusty steed was waiting for him; as usual he was always welcome to swing his leg over her. Wish he could say that for a couple of women folk he knew! Taking the bike up to speed, he let the adrenalin rush hit him as the needle swept across the rev range. Cars and scenery became a blur as he grabbed gear after gear, feeling immortal as he whizzed past cars and overtook anything in his way. Settling down to a comfortable speed just shy of double the speed limit he let the bike lead him to his favourite biker joint in a little side street off the beaten track. Bikes were lined up pipes to the kerb. Looked like a good night. Loud rock music could be heard muffled from the ancient jukebox inside. Backing his bike to the pavement he didn’t lock it. No one would dare touch his bike here. Besides Jimmy, the hulking doorman, would break the nuts of any low-down scum who didn’t know his bike. Jimmy owed him plenty from the time he had stopped a pissed up biker from smashing his head in with a beer bottle. Respect like that was better than any alarm!
“Heya Jimmy...” he said with a smile “...hows it hanging?” “Same as always Bro ... loose and a bit to the left” chuckled Jimmy. This was an old joke of theirs that they’d been sharing for years. “Any action going on?” “Some ... couple of bros up to no good and cruising for a bruising” said Jimmy suddenly all serious “... keep that ugly face of yours out of trouble will ya? We’ve just got the windows replaced from last time” “Sure thing Jimmy ...but you know how it is...trouble always seems to find me” with that he sauntered on inside the smoke filled room. As Jimmy said, a couple of bros were playing pool by the restrooms, joking with one another and giving all the ladies the eye. Ignoring them he headed for the bar and sat down on the stool. Tony was the best barkeep in town and you were always guaranteed a clean mug as he was always polishing glasses. He also had the best gossip and knew everything about anyone. “Hey Tony ...the usual for me and pour yourself one” “Don’t mind if I do actually ...feeling mighty thirsty tonight” said old Tony. As he watched Tony pour him a perfect pint of his favourite brew he caught sight of a bro just coming out of the restrooms in the mirror behind the bar. As he turned around, careful not to make it obvious he was staring, he realised it was Biker Boy from the photos at Peggy’s place. He watched him as he grabbed one of the pool players round the neck and started grappling with him. They obviously knew each other as they laughed and horsed around some.
“Say Tony who’s the bozo in the skull cap?” “That’s Mike, he’s with The Jokers MC...” said Tony in a low tone “... a real bad piece of work. I’d stay away from him. Rumour has it he did hard time for knifing a fellow Joker who messed around with his old lady” Tony pointed to one of the tables next to the windows, “That’s her over there. Peggy’s the name, a real man-eater. Word is that she always gets what and whom she wants just to make Mike jealous. Loves watching Mike swap punches over her. But you should know that, I saw you leave with her yesterday... hey relax kid, Mike wasn’t here yesterday ...just Peggy out on the prowl alone.” he said to the Rider’s horrified face. At that Tony moved off to serve another client.
He turned back to his beer, just as he saw Peggy rise and move to the restrooms. Observing her from the mirror he watched her walk over to Mike and flirt with him, running her hands across his chest down to his crotch seductively. Just as he reached out to grab her, she laughed and skipped out of reach into the safety of the restrooms. A couple of minutes passed by till she re-appeared and headed straight for the bar, a wicked smile across her lips as she caught sight of him. Settling down on the stool beside him, she appeared to ignore him as she asked Tony for a Margarita. “Where did you rush off to this morning? Was hoping for an encore when I woke up” she hissed under her breath. “You didn’t tell me you were married” he said. “Does it matter?” “It matters to me ... I don’t break the biker’s creed” “Sure didn’t seem like it yesterday whilst you were pumping and grinding that cock of yours in me” she grinned evilly. “Shut up before Mike hears you... I don’t want any trouble” “Oh don’t worry about Mike...he’s a pussy cat” she laughed ... “what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. Come on...buy me a drink. Maybe you’ll get lucky again tonight” she said with a wink. “Fuck you Peggy” he growled under his breath. “Again? Isn’t that what you did yesterday?” she laughed her evil laugh, taunting him.
“This guy bothering you Peggy?” said Mike who had come up behind him as he heard her laugh. “Oh shut up Mike... he was just complimenting me on my thighs and how he’d love to wear them round his ears” she lied maliciously. “Is that so buddy? Well why don’t you and me step outside and I’ll make you wear your ass for a hat?”snarled Mike, the pupils of his eyes dilating and the veins on his neck popping, “that should teach you some respect when talking to a lady .. especially mine”. “Hey man, I’m just here for a quiet drink... I don’t want any trouble.” “Well that’s too bad cause trouble is all you’ve got kid” said Mike as he swung out with his clenched right fist. Ducking under it, the Rider smashed his open palm in Mike’s kidneys knocking the wind out of him as he slammed against the bar. “I said I don’t want to fight... and believe me you don’t want to either.” Just at that moment Mike’s pool buddies came up behind him still clutching the cues threatingly. One of them took a swing at him, trying to bash his head in with the thick end of the pool cue. Ten years of training took over as he blocked the blow, flowing into it and smashed his elbow straight in the guys face as he swivelled round. This sent him crashing backwards onto one of the tables. The other guy started stepping forward before being hauled backwards and slammed against the wall by a grinning Jimmy. In the meantime Mike had made his way back to his feet. Seeing the state of his friends, his hand slipped behind his back and came out with a six inch blade that looked razor sharp and deadly. He was about to lunge again when the Rider anticipating his move, moved into a sidekick that planted a size 47 heavy riding boot in the middle of Mike’s chest, propelling him backwards into the bar cracking his head against the marble top. Mike collapsed in heap to the floor without another sound. “Damn you kid ...” cried Jimmy, “I told you to stay outta trouble! ... Now scram while I clean up the mess your fancy fighting created” The Rider looked around for Peggy but she was nowhere to be seen. Must have slipped out in the midst of the fray.
Grabbing his jacket he headed out the door as Jimmy and Tony started pulling up the goons who attacked him. He found Peggy leaning against the bike. “What the fuck you doing here?” he growled. “I knew you were more of a man then Mike ever was. I’m so turned on right now, I’m practically creaming myself. Let’s go back to my place and you can ravish me all night long! ... cant wait to feel you inside me again” she said lustily. “Get the fuck away from me. I want nothing to do with you.... you’re nothing but an evil manipulative bitch... ” He snarled “...you’ll burn in hell before I ever touch you again.” With that he started up the bike with a roar, snatched the throttle wide open and left amid a shower of gravel spluttering from the back tyre. “It won’t be the last time you see me...” shouted Peggy “... not if i can help it” she laughed evilly as she walked back inside to tend to her poor husband.
Her evil laugh kept ringing in his ears as he rode his bike like a bat out of hell. Road after road, curve after curve melded into one as anger took over. He couldn’t believe he had been used like that. The bitch hadn’t told him she was married, had led him on, taking advantage of his inebriated state. How she must have laughed when she saw him come in to the bar, with her husband standing a few meters away. He shuddered at how cool she stayed as she came over to proposition him a second time under her man’s watchful, jealous eye. She must have known a fight would break out. He didn’t want to fight, had acted in self defence but he hadn’t had an option. Oh she was a piece of work alright! Even after he had walked out of the bar she had again propositioned him like the whore she was. A regular Jezebel, harlot, she-devil preying on the weakness of the flesh.
All these thoughts and more were running through his head as he approached an intersection, where a side street branched off into the main road he was on. He didn’t see the bright lights approaching at speed down the side street, straight into his path....
..... To be continued in :
Midnight Rider – Angel in White
The lights were barely meters away from him before he realised they weren’t going to stop. He knew he couldn’t manouver out in time. Bracing himself against the tank, pushing himself far back in the seat to prepare for the imminent impact...
Proset Kev Nice story. BTW nahseb seraqlek il-mutur.
ReplyDeleteAlbert