FoA Chapter 6

“Nobody else fucking knew,” Stef snarls, slamming you onto the bar. Carla is with her, holding you down.

You aren’t a total idiot. You know exactly what is going on. There was just a secret meeting with the club, and the only person at that table who wasn’t a real member was you. Of course they’d come to you first, and then they’d found this thing on you. This does not look good.

The others are there now. It’s not just Stef and Carla: Jan, Fang, and Vicky surround you. Stef pushes your face hard against the counter.

“You brought a fucking bug in here?” Jan snarls.

Carla slams her boot down on the listening device, crushing it.

“What do you think that was worth?” Fang is asking you. “That shipment?”

“Do you have any idea?” Carla adds.

Stef yanks on your hair. “You got an answer for that, Prospect?” Oh God… she’s not using your name. She’s calling you Prospect. That’s not a good sign.

“Ow! Fucking shit!” It hurts. What else can you say?

“Get them down,” Vicky is saying.

You feel hands grabbing at your pants, undoing the button and jerking them over your hips and down your legs, along with your underwear. The fear of what’s happening is only half of it… the feel of the air touching your bare bottom only adds to the panic in your chest.

You hear the snap of the front door lock being turned.

“Get out of here,” Carla says to Tanya, who runs out of the bar.

“Jesus,” you say. “Are you guys serious?”

“Serious? This club is out two hundred grand and you’re making jokes?” Stef asks, yanking on your hair. “That’s a lot of product, Prospect. You think that’s funny? Carla, tell her a joke.”

Carla steps in front of you, and your face is pressed hard against the wood of the counter. You watch her unbuckle her belt and rip it off.

“Okay,” you say. “Let me talk.”

“Talk? You want to talk? You want to talk to someone that’s not a cop?” Carla snaps. She steps behind you and hits you on the ass with the belt so hard that you jerk and cry out.

“Ah! Fuck! Stop it,” you snarl.

“Stop? Stop what?” Carla strikes you again.

“Ah!” You cry out. It hurts. Vicky’s the one who has you pinned to the bar. You can feel her boobs against your back and her breath on your neck.

Carla snaps you on the ass again.

“Fuck! God,” you cry out. “Stop! Jesus.”

“What did they give you?” Stef demands, pulling your hair harder. “What did they give you, Prospect?”

“Nothing!” You groan and shake her off, wiggling uselessly. “Fucking listen! She got me this morning! She fucking jumped me! Patted me down! She planted it then, for fuck’s sake!” you shout.

“Oh!” Suddenly Carla’s face is in front of yours. “GBPD got in your face today? Oh, did they?” she asks.

“Yes!” you hiss.

“And you just didn’t mention this?” Stef demands, slapping you on the ass so hard that you will probably have a hand mark on there for a week.

“Ow! Yes! Fuck!” You shout. “No, I didn’t fucking mention it!”

“Well, why not?” Fang asks, grabbing your face and looking into your eyes.

“Because I’m not a pussy! I thought we didn’t bitch about that shit,” you bite out, glaring at her.

Stef hits you on the ass again with the belt, not holding anything back. It stings and burns, and you honestly want to cry, but you have to stay strong. This is a bad situation, but you can’t show weakness. The pain is… seriously bad, and there are tears in your eyes, but you can’t change course.

“You don’t bitch about it?” Stef strikes again, making you cry out. “You don’t say something when the cops fuck with you? You don’t fucking say something?” She snaps you again. Tears run down your face.

“Ah!” You groan and struggle, but Fang and Vicky have you… you aren’t going anywhere. “No, I don’t fucking say anything. Get fucked, assholes. I’m trying not to be a total bitch! Stark planted that on me to today!”

“Why? Why would I believe that?” Stef stops pulling on your hair and slips her hand down to your ass, squeezing it cruelly. “Give me one good reason.”

You grind your teeth. You can’t blame them for being mad and suspicious. The cops have been harassing them for years. You aren’t mad at Stef. It’s Stark that you’re mad at.

But you have **** but to get a little mouthy.

“Hey!” you shout. “Your friend, Mary? Her daughter!”

“Excuse me?” Stef snarls, raising the belt to hit you again.

“Her daughter!” you yell. “Her daughter saw it happen! She saw Stark fucking feeling me up! Ask her! Fuck!” you shout as Carla strikes your ass with her open hand. You gasp and pant for breath.

“Her daughter? Mary’s daughter?” Stef stays. “She saw this go down?”

“She saw everything! Stark fucking ambushed me!”

“You sure?” Stef grabs your ass, squeezes it roughly, then slaps it hard, pointing to Carla, who gives you another brutal snap with the belt. “You’re sure?”

“Yes!” You aren’t the screaming type, but it hurts so badly that you want to.

“Fuck it,” Stef says, grabbing Carla’s hand to stop her from spanking you again. “Let’s see.” She takes out her phone and dials, stepping away.

You stare at her back, face wet with tears, still held down by the others as Stef has a brief conversation on the phone. She stops, then calls another number.

She turns and looks at you as she speaks.

“Hi,” she says. “My name’s Stef, and I’ve known your mom, Mary, for a long time. We’re good friends. Um, I know it’s weird, but did you happen to see a biker chick get jumped by the cops today?” she asks.

You can’t hear the reply. Every woman in the bar holds her breath: Jan, Fang, Carla, Caroline… all of them.

Stef takes a deep breath.

“Wow. Yeah. I’m so sorry. I know, it must’ve been crazy,” she says. “Thanks. Bye,” she says.

Then she ends the call and stares at you.

“Let her go,” she says finally. Looking uncertain, Fang and Vicky back off. You stand up, rubbing your arms and shoulders.

“God damn,” you say.

“What is it?” Vicky asks.

“My friend’s kid says it went down like she says,” Stef says, staring at you. “Stark felt you up good this morning.”

“It wasn’t good for me,” you say.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Carla asks, still hostile.

“Do we bitch about it every time the cops do something shitty?” you snarl at her.

She looks startled.

“We say something when the cops put their hands on us,” Vicky tells you.

“Great. Glad you guys covered that when you did your onboarding with me,” you say. “You know, my formal training. Maybe we skipped that slide when we did the Power Point. Jesus Christ.”

Fang snorts, then almost laughs. “What do you think?” she asks Stef.

“I think she’s telling the truth.” Stef drops her phone on the counter. She pushes the others off you, but you’re just trying to catch your breath. It’s an awkward moment with your pants and underwear down, and everything on display.

Stef takes you by the chin and looks at you for a long moment. You wince at the feel… your butt is sore has hell, but you aren’t going to whimper in front of the club.

“Okay,” Stef says, turning to the others. “So this is Ellen making a play.”

“Yeah,” you growl. “I’m thinking that’s probably what it is.”

“She got our fucking shipment,” Carla says.

“She did,” Stef says. “But it’s not the kid’s fault.” She puts her hand on the top of your head, hesitating. “It’s not you. Is it?”

“No,” you say.

“No. She set you up.” Stef sighs and keeps her hand on your head, rubbing your hair softly. “Okay, everybody out. Carla, do a sweep to make sure there’s no more bugs. Fang, Jan, go find out where Stark is now. Vicky, go check every storage site we have. See which ones are under surveillance or have the locks cut. Ellen’s got search warrants now after busting Jan.”

Everyone follows orders without a word, deserting the bar in seconds. You find yourself alone with Stef, who’s obviously still pissed. You know that you messed up. It seemed like the right move not to say anything. Like, it fit with everything you’ve learned about the club up to this point. You were so sure.

But you should’ve said something.

“You should’ve said something,” Stef says, patting your head. “Now I feel like the bad guy.”

“Sorry,” you say, trying not to do any more crying. You start to get up, but she holds you down.

“Stay like that,” she says.

OK… but this is deeply uncomfortable. Stef walks out of the room, leaving you naked below the waist, bent over the bar. All you can do is stand there and hope that no one comes in. You can’t disobey Stef. You are a little pissed at her for doubting you, but you know you would have done the same in her place.

She comes back and walks over to you, her sexy boots tapping on the floor. She puts something on the bar, then reaches over and grabs a bottle and a shot glass. She pours a shot of whiskey and gives it to you.

You drink it without a word.

“You have a sweet ass, Adella. But maybe wait a few days before you show it to anybody,” she says, and you feel something cool back there. She’s rubbing some soothing cream into your skin. You blush and finish your whiskey. Great. So she’s saying sorry by acting like a mom now? It’s even more uncomfortable.

She touches an especially sensitive spot, and your body moves. Your erection bumps against the bar, and she hears it.

“Oh,” she says, looking down. “You have a little problem down there?”

“Do I get an apology handy?” you ask.

She snorts. “Do it yourself. I’ll fuck you at your initiation,” she adds.

You can’t tell if she’s kidding, but you also heard what she said: at your initiation. It sounds like Stef thinks you will make it into the club. You know that she likes you, but you aren’t sure if that’s because she likes you as a person or because you have a big dick and an ass that won’t quit. Or wouldn’t have quit until it took that beating.

You try not to make any weird noises as she lightly rubs more cream into your buttocks.

“Fang’s going to walk back in here,” she warns you. “You really want her to see that woody?”

“You want her to walk in and see me jerking off? No. You want to see me jerk off,” you accuse.

“I like seeing a pretty girl cum,” Stef says casually, pouring you another shot. “Put your panties back on, you little bitch.” She leans on the bar and smiles at you. “I guess those were some pretty cute noises you were making.”

“Fuck you,” you say, yanking up your underwear, then your jeans. You wince as you button them… of course today you’re wearing tight ones.

“You can’t ride like that. Crash upstairs. I’ll send Fang to Goldfinger tonight,” Stef says, rubbing your shoulder. “You can give that booty a rest. Heal up.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“Mommy,” Stef corrects you. “And try to blush a little when you say it.”