Gang Up: A Bikerland Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

for her.
    “There is a girl.”
    “Of course there is!” Carthage laughed. “You always have a girl. Always a girl, and always you are confused. Have you noticed a correlation?”
    “You’re not listening.”
    “I have.” Carthage huffed now, close to cumming. “Noticed a correlation, I mean.”
    “There is a girl,” Brall said again, his tone humming dangerously low. “She is meant to be mine. I know this for a fact.”
    “You’ve known that for a fact in the past, as I recall.” Carthage’s head rolled back. Miranda must have been very good. “With Sara. And Hannah. Yolanda. Eve.”
    “They were all...” Brall searched for a moment. “They were unworthy. This one is different.”
    “Of course she is.”
    Finally, Carthage erupted in Miranda’s mouth. She moaned with hot pleasure, swallowing him down, every drop. Some heavy spurts landed on her nose and eyes, and she slid them up with one finger and sucked them dry. When she was done, Carthage pushed her off, and she crawled away, cumdrunk and giggling.
    “Now,” said Carthage, a relaxed smile on his face. “What do you want to do about her, then?”
    “It’s complicated.”
    “How is it complicated? You want a woman, and you take her.”
    “She is...claimed. More or less.”
    “More?” Carthage asked. “Or less?”
    “It’s complicated. I do not think she has a husband. But her status is protected in the town.”
    “The town will be yours, ours,” Carthage grinned, “soon enough. I would not worry over such things if I were you.”
    “I do not worry,” Brall snapped. “You asked me why I was in a mood. She is the mood. That is all.”
    Carthage considered this for some time.
    “Women like to be wooed. Find someone she does not like and destroy him in front of her. That should make her grateful enough.”
    These were brutal men and brutal times, and the logic made only perfect sense to Brall’s violent disposition.

Chapter 5:
    ––––––––
    A fter the incident with Brall, Abigail needed to cool off somehow—or let out some of the hot pressure that the hulking brute had created inside of her pussy.
    The Family's garage was possibly the most ornate of any structure in the town. Built inside of an old pre-war government building, designed almost by itself to withstand the blasts of bombs from the enormous conflict. The building—and a few other buildings like it—were why Temple had been founded by the Family in the first place. The town was pre-equipped with bunkers and shelter; pre-equipped as a base for any conflict that might occur. That the land was fertile was a nice bonus. Probably men and women would have drifted to the sturdy, tall buildings regardless to get some protection from the ceaseless raiders and threats that the wastes churned out.
    Auto parts filled the walls. Shiny chrome and dark steel intermingling in a sort of neoclassical fashion so alien to the waste beyond these walls.
    Case was working on someone's bike, not his own. Clearly bothered still by grief, by all this sudden responsibility. He worked on bikes when he wanted to be alone.
    Just from looking at Case, she felt like her body had melted into nothing. All she wanted to be was a puddle at his feet, forever surrounding the warmth of his skin. Warming him, warmed by him. Touching him, touched by him. Loving him, loved by him. They were alone in the garage.
    Long ago, she had been confused about her feelings for her brother. So many would say it was wrong. Most, even. But Abigail had learned not to care. It was easier to surrender to her desire. It was easier to accept where she knew she belonged in the world.
    “Hey, big bro.”
    The words were innocent enough, but not in the way she said them.
    “Hey, sis.”
    His tone was cautionary.
    “Where is everyone?” she asked. “Out for duties already?”
    “Training. With Troy. I wanted to look through everyone’s bikes. Give them one last check.”
    “Like Titus used to do.”
    “Yeah. Like