Chapter 22: Scared Protector
“This is either the best joint Ironhand rolled or Rage is really smiling.” Vik points at me across the round table.
If I was smiling, I sure ain’t when they all turn to me. I was trying to focus on what was said without worrying that Iris is alone in my room. Well not exactly alone. Tanya, Galina and some of the girls from the escort came over to see her. Still, I am not with her. I have barely left her side since last night and her thought makes me feel...nice. I watched over her as she slept and I am itching to go back and feast on her vision, look into those grey eyes of hers. Being away, even if Iris is down the hall, makes me feel uncomfortable.
“As I was saying,” Tor’s voice fills the room “We’re good. The Chinese were in a turf war with Daultrey that bit more than he could chew. They are in our debt for catching him without killing him. They were a bit surprised to hear that the Hellhound let a man live, though.” Tor turns to me sullenly.
“I needed him alive in case he was lying.” I say.
“And after that?” Tor’s eyes flash with amusement.
I am toying with my knife and I drive it in the wooden table meeting Tor’s challenge.
“I wasn’t leaving Iris with you useless fuckers to go gut a fat, dickless man.” I growl.
“Just hoping you are not getting soft on me.” Tor pins me “You are my Hellhound after all.”
I clench my jaw but say nothing.
“Good.” Tor releases me “Anyway, the Chinese have Daultrey and their favorite game is giving him showers. He is screaming all the way through, pissing and shitting himself. You broke the man badly, Rage.”
Bjorn, Vik and Runner look at me. They were there when I waterboarded that piece of shit and they saw firsthand its effects. I smile at the thought of Daultrey being so scared for the rest of his miserable life. Not that the Chinese are going to let him live a lot longer. And from what hear they can be pretty creative in torturing people, too.
“Bottom line is that the Chinese and the Mexican split Daultrey’s turf. We graciously asked for nothing. Just a finder’s fee. Zhang proposed we set up an Asian porn studio across the Bay in one of the warehouses. I talked to Yevgeny about it, seeing he is our distribution partner, and he is good with that. He is even willing to send his wife set this up.”
“Please, tell me you are sending me down there!” Vince says.
“What about Venus Riders Studios?” Tor smiles.
“Come on, man. It is going like a clockwork. Vik can handle that.”
“I love you, brother!” Vik throws.
“See? Come on! Asian pussy. Tight, nice, bare Asian pussy.”
“Fuck, Vince. You’ve had pussy up your eyeballs in our porn studio.”
“Uh! Fed up with all the blonde, busty cowgirls and the so-called college girls. I need a change in diet.”
“If it’s for your health, brother.” Tor laughs “Vik, you good to take over Venus Riders for a while?”
“Hell yeah, baby!!” Vik gets up and fists his cock.
“OK, no need to flash us your dick!” Tor says.
“Right. As if you didn’t look at my dick last night when Cat was choking it while fucking her on her knees.” Vik sneers.
“You could have hollered, assholes.” Runner protests “Or are you scared to compare with my big, Puerto Rican dick?”
“Are you done, fucking whores? I got to meet Ava.” Bjorn bellows.
“Better a whore than pussy-whipped by one woman.” Vik smiles wickedly.
Bjorn shakes his head. Other than the old reserves of our chapter of the Riders that have retreated from the life, Bjorn is the only one to have a Valkyrie, a steady girlfriend that carries his child and the others grill him bad. He always brushes it off with the same wide smile, as if he is talking to children that don’t know better. I bite down my bitterness. Bjorn loves Ava and Ava loves him back. I have seen them, how they look at each other, how they fight side by side as equals. They share something no Cat or Candy or any of the rotters could give him. And I am fucking jealous of what he has. But I can’t even dream...I am not...
"Thing over.” Tor declares the meeting over.
I get up the chair and rushed down the hall. I open the door to my room and it is still filled with all those people. I hate people being in my room but Iris wanted to see those that came for her and I didn’t want to say no. I can’t say no to Iris. She could ask me to rip my eyes out and I would. I have no idea what painful tricks life is playing on me again but what I am feeling for that little, frail girl is overwhelming and irrevocable.
“We are waiting for you on next day-off, Iris.” Tanya says and all the others agree.
Iris’s face melts into a warm smile and my heart tightens. Every fucking time she smiles the same thing. I thought that the uproar her smiles brought in my soul would finally stop. Instead it gets worse and worse as if I am getting addicted to a drug and if I were to be deprived of it, I would suffer. That exact moment her eyes fall on me and her smile widens some more. All eyes turn to me and Galina is the first to get up.
“The man of the house is here. Which means that the...Thing - or whatever you call your meetings - is over. Which means Vik is free to take care of me. So excuse me.”
“Oh, we are all going.” Tanya smiles looking at me and then Iris.
All the girls lean and kiss her before leaving. I know it is crazy by I hate them touching her. I don’t want anyone touching her. Not that I could. I want to but I do only to help her get comfortable on the bed or apply the cream. I haven’t really touched her. She had though. I would gladly tattoo the trace of her little fingers around me just to keep that feeling with me forever.
Tanya and the others pass me by not even looking at me and they go out the room. When the door closes behind them, I feel the urge to lock it to keep anyone else from coming in. I feel the need to keep her all to me. All of her, just for me but I know I can’t. She will soon be up on her feet and she will run away from me. She said otherwise but she was just grateful. When she will be better she will leave and that is fine because I am bad for her. I shut my eyes and chase these thoughts away. For now, she is here. When I open my eyes, I glance at the side table. She hasn’t eaten the sandwich I brought her.
“Eat!” I order.
She looks at me jumping by my demanding tone. I shake my head and lace my fingers behind my neck. I knew it. I knew that as soon as I would start talking to her I would behave like an asshole. I should have never talked to her. But when I saw her in the warehouse, tied up I couldn’t hold back.
I close my eyes trying to usher the image of her being tied up like an animal ready for the slaughterhouse away. But to no avail. I will never forget how she looked as if she was dead, her whole body in abandon. She was bare from the waist up, her lily-white skin shining. But her back...I inhale deeply as it all comes back to me. Her back was a bloodied mess, marred deep by lashes. She was breathing but she kept her eyes shut, turning away from me, slipping away. So I spoke. I needed her to know that I was there, that I had come for her. It was only her name, sweet like sugar in my lips, but it was enough.
“Rage?” her voice brings me back.
She is sitting up in the middle of my bed, in one of my t-shirts that is too big for her and slips over her shoulder. Instantly my dick presses against the jeans. I have never seen anything fucking hotter than her, beaten and tired as she is in the only clean shirt I have. Her long hair falls down her back, her eyes shines brightly and her skin looks as if it is covered with sugar, waiting for me to lick it off.
I look over her head trying to hide my excitement. She is a scared thing, held by that pig. Last thing she needs is a fucking psycho like myself drooling like a creep over her. I can never have her, I am not right for her. I will hurt her, bring harm upon her as I do to all things when the voices took over. The Hellhound lurks underneath, always there waiting to come out and spread death. It rules my soul, commands my hand, it is in my blood. It will hurt Iris.
My Iris. My beautiful Iris. My fingers unlace and my nails dig into my flesh, going down my neck. I form fists and pounded my chest, sending the Hellhound away, giving it the pain it craves. Over and over again blood running down my chest. I will hurt myself than see the Hound hurt her. Not my Iris.