One Step Too Close

By: K.A Merikan

Jed spotted Ryder again and tried to catch his gaze, but when he didn’t manage, he threw the bottle into a trash can and walked into the clubhouse lounge. It was bursting with people, almost like the only nightclub in the area on a Saturday night, but here, in the Coffin Nails MC compound, it was hard rock and metal, not R&B that filled what empty space was left between tightly pressed bodies.

Dark was already completely besotted and slept on a chair in the corner with a red-haired woman draped across his lap. His long black hair obscured his face, and Jed knew the man would be out till morning. Close-by, Bert, their oldest member, was still up and running, the burning end of his cigar swinging as he ground his hips against the ass of his old lady. The man’s stamina was admirable, and Jed secretly hoped to be as lively in his sixties.

Grease, their prospect, was stinking up the lounge with the scent of hot oil as the trays next to him filled with pieces of fried chicken. Mikey, the new enforcer, was standing there with some girl and munched on a piece of the meat put between two slices of toast. Every time he closed his mouth, his large ears twitched against his bald head.

Jed briefly saw Ripper, their club president, kissing a skinny blonde girl with shorts so tiny, they covered only half of her buttocks. Jed nodded at Ripper, and the old man grinned back, gently pushing the girl to her knees in front of him. That Jed definitely didn’t want to witness, and so be pushed behind the counter of the kitchenette and maneuvered his way between pieces of broken bottles, all the way to the safety of the small restroom hidden away behind the two giant fridges.

He switched on the light and opened his zipper, happy to empty his bladder in relative peace. He closed his eyes, listening to the clear sound of the stream of liquid hitting porcelain, with the background of muffled music.

“Did you not hear what I said?” asked Dana.

Jed yelped and startled so hard he pissed over the toilet seat. Not that it had been clean in the first place. “Get the fuck out,” he hissed, looking over his shoulder to a face that was devoid of the fake smile Dana sported in public. It was now as blank as a new sheet. Jed could swear someone should make a modern day retelling of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and cast her as the main character. Words got trapped in his mouth when her long-fingered hand held up Jed’s old phone. He didn’t need to look at the screen to know what was playing. He knew that recording so well he could rewatch it in his mind in each painstaking detail.

A pretty, boyish face in front of his cock and Jed’s own voice telling him to suck it. The boy had not been keen to be a porn star, and as a result of a struggle, the phone had fallen to the floor, catching Jed’s face on camera. That had been Jed’s one and only attempt at getting it on with a guy. A nightmare that would haunt him forever. He should have kept his dick in his pants. Then again, how was he supposed to know this vid would get into the hands of a spy?

Dana sighed loudly, like an actress on stage, and her fingers scratched Jed’s back. “Are you forgetting yourself again?” she asked, and he wanted nothing more than to squash her throat with his bare hands. She’d probably put up a good struggle, being an apprentice to a mafia assassin and all that, but Jed was pretty sure he could take out a hundred-pound woman if it wasn’t for the fact that... he couldn’t. She had copies of the video stored somewhere, and they would go live online if she didn’t enter some sort of code on a regular basis. That was her way of protecting herself against Jed’s aggression. He was trapped for as long as she needed his help. He was a victim of his own stupidity and the lust that had clouded his judgement that one fucking time.

“Can’t you fucking see I’m pissing?” he muttered, tense and slightly dizzy. “Turn it off.”

Dana harrumphed and paused the video but still stood uncomfortably close. “I will delete it forever when I finally meet the lovely Man from Colombia.”

Jed would rather eat her pussy every day for a month than hear about this ever again. The truth about him was an embarrassment to his family, to his club, but talking to an outsider about Coffin Nails’ business was a whole new level of betrayal that he didn’t want to reach. He was already scraping the bottom of the moral barrel as it was, lusting for his stepbrother.

“Yeah, sure, I’d love to help, but I don’t really know a fucking thing about him,” he whispered, paranoid that someone could overhear this conversation. If anyone knew he was not reporting her as a spy, he’d be fucked. If he actually disclosed intel to her, and someone found out, Jed was as good as dead. For the last few months, he’d juggled her curiosity by giving her scraps that wouldn’t get her anywhere and even hinting at false information, but what she really wanted at this point was a chance to talk to a big arms dealer everyone in the club referred to as the Man from Colombia. Jed was lucky not to know that much about him, but he’d already overstepped boundaries when she threatened to send the video to Ryder. Fortunately, Dana didn’t find anything of value to her in Ripper’s computer, but it could have ended in something much worse. Being gay was one thing, being a rat quite another.

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