Devil's Hitmen MC Pt. 01

In the next instant, Solomon was in her, his cock so hard, so thick, that it drove her up the wall and onto her tiptoes. Clenching tight around him, Kat pushed back and rotated her hips, giving as good as she got. She gave herself over, let her voice out, and got lost in his smell, his hands, everything that was Solomon Parker, because she knew the next day she might very well be his murderer.

Chapter Three

Reaching towards the poker table, Kat picked up one of the cigarette cartons one of the guys had left and pulled out a smoke. Reaching for a matching lighter, she took a drag and blew the smoke out, along with a deep breath she'd been holding in since morning.

"Three years smoke free, and now look at me," Kat mumbled as she took another drag and leaned further back in her chair.

The bar was quiet, only a few regulars crowding around the TV with mugs of beer in their hands. It was still early morning, much earlier than Kat usually woke up, but there she was. And it was all because of Solomon Parker.

How many times had they danced around each other? Smiled, flirted, suggested, but never actually got around to the actual fucking? Probably too many times for Kat to count. But then Jamison had died, and suddenly they couldn't keep their hands off each other, because they knew that everything was about to go to hell.

"What to do? What to do?" Kat thought aloud as she finished her cigarette and crushed it in an ashtray.

Mindy had called her sometime during the night, after Solomon had passed out on her bed and told Kat that she suspected the biker was her husband's murderer. No, surprise there. Things only got worse as texts and calls came through, all saying the same thing, all coming to her. It was obvious who the new president was going to be, but even more obvious what the new president would have to do.

Hours, that was all the time Solomon Parker had left. The Devil's Hitmen would track him down, and tonight at their rally accusations would fly, and unless Solomon had some evidence that he didn't do it, or evidence that someone else did, the man was dead.

"You alright over there, Kat?" Billy, one of the recent hires, called out to her from behind the bar. The kid barely looked old enough to drive a car, but here he was serving alcohol.

"I'm alright, kid," Kat called back, resisting the urge to go over and tosel his black curls as she got up and stretch, every muscle in her body sore from overuse. It was a nice soreness, but on the back of a bike, it felt like shit.

Throwing some cash on the table, Kat pulled out her phone and checked her messages.

@ Woods 10. Got S.

Balling her hand into a fist, Kat texted a confirmation and walked straight out of the bar, got on her bike, and rode till all she could hear was the blood in her ears and the wind rushing by.

***

Moonbeams bounced off the seductive crimson paint on the side of Kat's bike as she rolled into the clearing and saw the Free Gun's assembled, most of the members wearing grim faces. A tiny cluster of men stood off to the side, looking like they were circling someone. Kat didn't have to guess who that someone was.

Rolling to a stop, Kat set her kickstand and climbed off her bike. All eyes turned to her as she took off her helmet and set it on her motorcycle. Faces that she'd known for years, girl friends and father figures, all watching her with respect and trust.

"Let's get on with it then. " Kat nodded to the circle of men and moved towards the group, her boots digging into the soft grass.

Cigarettes fell to the forest floor and were crushed beneath boot heels as the members stepped away from their bikes and gathered closer. Kat felt their eyes bore into her back, assessing her, sizing her up, and determining if she was really the new president they wanted. The election was more like a popularity contest that Kat knew she would win hands down any day of the week, but tonight was just her cementing her role.

"Glad you could make it, Kat. Hopefully this won't take too long," Ryan said as he came to her and patted her on the shoulder.

Kat nodded to the man, knowing that he was among the many who believed Solomon was guilty. Perhaps sex was clouding her brain, but Kat didn't think Solomon was guilty anymore. If anything his continual silence made her think he was trying to protect someone.

Still, if push came to shove, she'd stay beside the Devil's Hitmen and honor their wishes, even if those wishes left stains on her soul. She was already stained, one more wouldn't hurt.

Stopping in front of Solomon, Kat tried to look at him objectively, like the criminal everyone saw him as. Bruised and bloody, but still smiling, the man was on his knees, one eye swollen shut and a cut lip. Kat had no doubt there were more bruises and if the slightly darker stains on his navy t-shirt told her anything, there was probably more blood as well.

"Solomon Parker," Kat greeted the man, her tone ice cold reflecting none of the warmth from only a few hours ago. Even at that moment Kat could still smell him on her skin, feel his hands running through her hair, his nails digging into her hips as he thrust into her body with such vehemence she thought he might actually break her.

But then again, he'd been right. A part of her desired him so fiercely that she didn't care if he broke her.

"Kathy Sullivan," Solomon returned with a slight cough and then turned his head and spit out blood.

Turning away from him, Kat racked her gaze around the Free Gun's members looking for any suspicious characters, anyone who might have just as much motive as Solomon. There were a few, but none so hopeless that they'd resort to killing. And, Kat thought as she returned her gaze back to Solomon, none of these men have been sent to jail for attempted manslaughter except Solomon.

The Devil's Hitmen weren't perfect, and jail wasn't a new phenomenon, but they lived by a strict code. Jamison had made sure all of his members remained drug free and fight free, people got off the bandwagon sometimes, but they almost always got back up and back on.

"I'm not going to bullshit anyone; we all know why we're here," Kat began, raising her voice so everyone could hear her. "Most of you think Solomon here killed Jamison--that he tampered with his bike in some way--and you want retribution."

A hush settled over the crowd, the tension skyrocketing. Kat held her breath wondering if anyone was about to cry foul or stand up for Solomon.

"We want his head!" Mindy screamed in an outburst, lunging for Solomon. One of the guys held her back as she clawed and kicked to move closer. Kat glared at Mindy until she was finally quiet, only silent tears racing down her cheeks.

"All because I wanted to restore this club to its former glory. The good old days, instead of the groups of pussies it's turned into!" Solomon grinned and burst out laughing. One of the members standing next to Solomon raised his steel toed boot and kicked Solomon hard in the side.

"Knock it off, Issac," Kat snapped and placed her hand on the gun holstered at her side.

The kicking stopped immediately, and the members were silent again. Closing her eyes, Kat knew that she was running out of choices. She'd never be forced into killing Solomon, but if no one vouched for him, then she'd do what she had to do.

"Who thinks Solomon murdered Jamison?" Kat asked as she opened her eyes.

Hands flew up, and with every hand that went up, Kat locked eyes with the person. Eyes were, after all, the windows to the soul. While her members harbored secrets, no one in the Devil's Hitmen had killed Jamison, at least no one present.

Sighing under her breath, she asked the final question. "Who wants Solomon Parker dead?"

A roar erupted from the member, deafening and blood thirsty all at once. Mindy hadn't been wrong, they all wanted his head.

Removing her gun from the holster, Kat raised it to her eye level and aimed it at Solomon. His lips twisted in a sardonic smile as blood trailed out of the corner of his mouth. "You were so much warmer yesterday when I was fucking you, Kit-Kat," his voice was loud and clear if a little rough.

Kat shrugged, and took off the safety, finger on the trigger. "I was a lot of things yesterday. But today, I am the leader of the Devil's Hitmen!"

The club cheered and threw around a few "fuck right"s and "Hell yeah"s. If that didn't cement her role as president, Kat wasn't sure what did.

"Tell the Devil: Kathy Sullivan says hi," Kat said coolly as she steeled her heart and--

A gasp, a shuffling sound: "Wait! Don't shoot!"

--pulled the trigger.