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Revenued Vows

Chapter 10: Exit Strategy

Sneak Peek

“Boss, this place doesn’t look like it’s going to be easy to get to,” Diesel was sitting at the bar scrolling on his phone through one of those house listing sights that you can vacation in. Apparently Lawrence rented it out most of the year except around the fourth. “One way in, one way out. Lake front property with thick woods surrounding it. Seems like we can’t off road it either. Too much sand to keep the earth together. Expect berms all over the place next to the lake.”

“Diesel, stop coming to me with problems,” Jagger growled into his stein, the reflection of his snarl looking back at him from the faded froth of his beer. “Come to me with solutions.”

“Well, I’m coming to you with more problems,” Diesel spoke matter of fact. “If the same guys that jumped us before are keeping an eye on the place, it’s basically a fortress. How do you expect us to make it down the driveway, let alone pull someone out? They’ll be armed too.”

“Damn it Diesel! Let me think!” Jagger snarled. “One problem at a time.”

Jagger stood from the bar and swaggered over to the billiards where Axel and Lordy were playing pool, the hyena fleecing the golden for all he was worth, or at least making him put his drinks on his card.

“Heya Boss!” Axel gave Jagger a smile, his whiskers tipped with the foam from his beer. “Wanna play a round? Lordy could use the help.”

“Just sink the eight ball and be done with it,” Tucker huffed, bouncing his heel before Jagger gave him a scowl and he folded back his ears.

“Hey Lordy, behave,” Axel said leaning over the table, his long, toned arms and swimmer’s build forming a perfect arch, the tip of his tail twitching happily. “We’re here to relax.”

“W-Why am I here again?” Tucker wanted to sound irritated, but while under the gaze of the wolf who nearly gave him five hernias was on him, he made sure to keep a cap on it.

“So you don’t go blabbing to your father-in-law that we’re coming,” Jagger took a few deep swigs of beer.

“I would never do that Boss—” Tucker tried to plead his case, but cut himself off when Jagger glared at him again.

“Calm down pretty boy, and corner pocket,” Axel lined his cue up and took his shot, grabbing his empty beer stein and handing it to Tucker before the eight ball sunk into the called hole. “We’re here to have a good time, now get me another beer.”

Tucker’s ears drooped before he took his own nearly untouched beer and Axel’s mug back to the bar for a refill.

“So, what’s the plan big guy?” Axel leaned against the table. “We goin’ in guns blazin’, or all sneaky like.”

“I’m thinking,” Jagger growled over the lip of his stein.

“You sure about that?” Whiskers said from behind, the black panther playing darts with himself, his own won beer from Tucker half drained on a high top. “I have a feeling you ain’t been thinking. Why are we even going after this Gabriel character?”

“What do you mean why?” Jagger growled. “Because I said so.”

“Well, nutless pretty boy over there is going to marry him, get his money, and pay us what he owes. Why are we trying to get between our own payday?” Whiskers threw his final dart and smacked the bullseye, nearly Robin Hooding the darts already there. “There something you not telling us?”

“Whiskers, you questioning me?” Jagger growled.

“Don’t I always?” The old black panther with the white around his muzzle retrieved his darts before taking a swig of his beer.

“Yeah, and it’s starting to piss me off,” Jagger rumbled and drained the rest of his beer before smacking the empty pint into the chest of Tucker who was coming back with Axel’s spoils. “Get me a fresh one.”

Tucker didn’t even question it and took it to the bar.

“It pisses you off because whenever I do question you, it’s because you know I’m right,” Whiskers licked the bit of beer from his whiskers before continuing. “There isn’t any point in going to get Gabe now. Why you dragging us all over the state, burning miles and rubber when we could be back at the Rider’s Den drinking and partying about our impending windfall.”

“I made a deal with him that I would get him safely to Constance and then he got jumped,” Jagger argued.

“Did he?” Whiskers asked sipping his beer and letting his words sink in. “Or did he jump ship because he got what he wanted?”

“He never got what he wanted, dumbass,” Jagger shot back, taking his phone from his pocket and shaking like it was obvious proof. “He got taken before he could get it.”

“You said it yourself though,” Diesel came over from the bar and shoved more quarters into the pool table to reset the balls. “You got him to Constance. What’s the difference between giving him the documents now or after our payday?”

“Because he wanted them before the wedding,” Jagger smacked his own forehead with the tip of his fingers as if to call Diesel a dumbass as well. “You got anything going on between those ears? I made a deal, and I keep my deals.”

“Yeah, you keep them,” Whiskers spoke, tossing more darts. “But we bend them from time to time. You never said you’d get him the stuff before the wedding, right?”

“Well, nah, but that’s pissing on the spirit of the deal,” Jagger argued, snatching his beer from Tucker as he came by.

“I say piss away,” Whiskers shrugged. “We don’t owe this Gabriel nothing, and yet you’re willing to risk our lives for him? He ain’t even one of our own.”

“He became one of our own when I took him under my protection,” Jagger shot back, drinking more of the beer before continuing. “And he got taken. That means something.”

“Boss, we’re trying to be on your side here,” Diesel racked the billiards in the appropriate order and got them ready for the break. “I’ll ride into hell with you, but why are we going to ruin our own plan by trying to kidnap some kid.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Axel leaned forward with his cue and aimed his shot. “Boss is whipped!”

The billiards broke and rattled around the table.

“The fuck did you just say?” Jagger’s eyes napped to Axel who was hyping himself up after having sunk a duo of solids and went to work angling himself for his next shot.

“What? I’m right ain’t I?” Axel gave a little hyena yip and swig of his drink, the guy a giggly drunk. “You’ve always had a hard-on for married chicks. What’s a fiancé if not a married broad without an extra ring on her finger?”

“I ain’t whipped,” Jagger set his drink down, his vision going red as he glared at Axel, Tucker shrinking away to hid behind Diesel.

“Seriously boss?” Axel chuckled, ignoring or just missing the hand gestures from Whiskers and Diesel for him to shut up. “You are soooo whipped, I bet I could use you as a topper on jello! HA!”

With that Axel sunk another solid and then stood up, imitating the motion of cracking a whip and making the sound effect. He was doing his signature yips and laughs up until Jagger gripped his riding jacket and slammed him against the wall.

“I ain’t whipped!” Jagger barked. “This is about honor!”

“Yeah, who’s honor?” Axel chuckled, his little drunk stupor making him blind to hole he was digging himself into. “Ours or your new boy toy’s?”

Jagger snarled and lifted his fist to pound Axel’s face in, but before he could swing it, Diesel caught his wrist.

“There are other fish out there,” Diesel tried to reason.

“Plenty of fish on the open road,” Whiskers added. “Jagger, let it go. It aint’ worth it.”

“You all going to turn on me?” Jagger pulled himself free from Diesel. “Who’s side are you on? His?!”

Jagger gestured to Tucker with his stein. The golden snuck back to the bar to remove himself from the situation.

“We’re on your side,” Whiskers insisted. “You’re the leader of the Wild Riders. We just don’t see the point in risking our lives for some skirt.”

“The point is that I said so!” Jagger barked. “I say jump, you say how fucking high!”

“Boss, we need to be smart about this,” Whiskers insisted. “We won’t even be cutting losses by cutting Gabe loose. We’d be making a profit. Make me understand—”

“Like I said,” Axel chuckled and did his whipping motion again. Whiskers came over to him and smacked him upside the head.

“Fuck you cucks,” Jagger snarled. “You don’t know what you’re fucking talkin’ about.”

“Boss,” Whiskers and Diesel tried to pull him back in, but Jagger ignored them.

“Stay here if you want,” Jagger shouted over his shoulder as he went for the door. “Nutless bitches the lot of you.”

“Oh my god,” Whiskers groaned. “Boss, don’t ride off. You’re drunk—”

But the bell on the door was already jingling and Reeva was roaring to life in the parking lot. The last they saw of Jagger were his tail lights peeling out of the parking lot.

“Told ya,” Axel chuckled and went over to Jagger’s abandoned drink.

“I think that’s enough for you tonight,” Diesel snatched it before Axel could get to it. He ignored the yeen’s high pitched protests as he downed the pint. He then looked at Whiskers to see what he had in mind, but as expected, the panther was already on his cell calling someone.

“Yeah,” Whiskers spoke as the other person on the line picked up. “It’s us. We might need a little help trying to keep our Boss from killing himself over your girl.”

There was a long pause, Whiskers nodded and agreed over the phone.

“I’ll send you the address of where we’re staying. Hurry up.” With that, Whiskers clicked his phone off. “Let’s just hope Jagger doesn’t do anything too stupid until we can bail him out again.”

“Dude’s a sucker for a nice piece of ass,” Axel chuckled, having taken Tucker’s drink and nursed from it.

***

“How about ‘Saving Private Ryan’?” Lawrence asked his son as he pulled out a book of DVD’s from under the TV consol. “You always liked that one.”

“I hate that movie,” Gabe lied. He actually liked it quite a bit, but remembering the times he would hide under his dad’s arm from the “scary parts,” was only making his gut sour.

“Come on Gabriel, don’t be like that,” Lawrence put a lowball of whisky on the coffee table filled with a generous amount of fingers. “Drink up while you still can. A bachelor party in the boonies is just what you need.”

“Yeah,” Gabe was curled up against the arm rest of the couch farthest from the recliner his father favored to sit in. He was clutching a throw pillow to his chest as he scowled at the drink before him. He wanted to say something clever, but he couldn’t with how fuzzy his head was. “Just how I always envisioned my bachelor party. With my dad, watching movies—”

“And with some premium whisky,” Lawrence added, dangling his low ball before Gabe, the shallow pit of amber liquid gracing the bottom of his glass evidence of where the sudden “happy father” had come from. And why wouldn’t he be happy? He was getting everything he wanted. His son was getting hitched to some great breeding stock, the company would be saved, and by the end of all this he would have full control of the company, the executives would be on his side, and Gabe would be lucky to see the board room until his father’s retirement day.

Maybe he’d be lucky and his dad would drink himself into a psoriasis riddled grave before Gabe turned fifty. Though, with their executive healthcare coverage, he’d probably get a new liver. It was far more likely that they would all go to jail before then and the company would be stripped for parts.

“Yeah, how could I forget our only guest for my party, Johnny Walker,” Gabe rolled his eyes and left the glass on the table.

“Mister Walker would be lucky to fill this brand’s bidet,” Lawrence chuckled at his own joke before pulling something else. “If you’re not going to pick something, I’m going to do Red Dawn.”

“Oh god,” Gabe rubbed his eyes. “I’d rather go to bed.”

Gabe made a move to get up, only to get a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see the German standing next to the couch.

“Oh yeah, forgot we had another wheal to this party bus of a bachelor bash,” Gabe huffed.

“You’re staying where we can see you,” the German nodded, his mirrored nark shades emphasizing the douchey nature of his role.

“Dad, seriously?” Gabe cocked a brow.

“I told your mother we’d be out here bonding,” Lawrence stuck a disk in and then plopped into his recliner, kicking his feet up and resting his lowball on his gut. “And you’re not going to make a liar out of me.”

“Yeah, like you need my help with that,” Gabe quipped.

“Normally I’d tell you to watch the attitude, but with how rich my blood is with this brew, I can’t be bothered to care.”

“I didn’t know they made whisky with Quaalude level’s of relaxants that could get you to unclench your tight little hole.” Gabe huffed, but snagged the whisky and took a sip, his father nodding his approval. The asshole. It was good whisky though.

“That’s why it’s so expensive,” Lawrence clicked a button on the remote and the lights dimmed and the TV showed the title screen to an old western movie.

“Oh god, Butch and Sundance,” Gabe groaned into his glass.

“Come on, you used to love these movies,” Lawrence smirked. “Why do you think I got you those horses you love so much?”

“Those are Regan’s horses,” Gabe rolled his eyes. “Of course you’d mix me up with your little princess.”

“Oh yeah,” Lawrence looked at the bottom of his glass, almost surprised it was empty before lifting it up. The German bringing the decanter over to top him off. “But I distinctly remember you liking this movie.”

Gabe didn’t want to give his father the satisfaction of being right. He actually did like the movie when he was little. He liked it because it was one of the few movies him and Regan actually liked to play. He even pretended to be a horse for her once. There was a picture of one of those moments on the walls somewhere around here. Their mother had a professional one done later at the mall where they both dressed up in period costumes, but Gabe liked the original picture better. And when the remake of the movie came out, Regan and him both agreed it was horrible.

Apart from the eye candy, but they both agreed that the actors didn’t do the heavy lifting. It was the makeup artists that grimed them up so good, and nothing says sexy like a rugged man on a horse.

Or a Harley…

Gabe shook his head, his ears slapping his face before he took another swig. He was fucking losing it. His brain was being melted by his heat, his loins a constant swing from flaring hot to desperate need. He managed to find some old heat pads that his mother had stashed away in her bathroom at the cabin, but they weren’t doing the best job at keeping his bitch stink from getting out. Sure, most of it was hidden inside, but the German seemed to be a bit handsier than he was before.

And he kept hearing things. Audio hallucinations weren’t uncommon with heat. When he got his first heat when he was in sixth grade, he swore there was a monster seething in his closet. He could HEAR it. Of course there was nothing there, but he was completely convinced. Apparently the body craves stimulation so much in heat that I’ll make its own up. Just last night he swore he could hear moaning from the walls, but when he went to investigate, the room next door was empty. He even thought the vent he left running in the bath before was someone humming when he woke up in the middle of the night. Hell, even now he swore he could hear the rev of an engine in the distance echoing off the lake. Just the very thought of a bike was making him go crazy.

“Hmmm?” The German lifted his hand from Gabe’s shoulder, the golden not even realizing he was leaning into the touch. Gabe looked up at him, the hand that was just on his shoulder was now pressed to the German’s earpiece. He walked away to speak into his mouthpiece in the kitchen softly enough to not be heard, but something about it felt awfully shady.

“Whatever,” Gabe grumbled, resting his drink on the arm rest and nibbled absently on the welted edge of his throw. It was an old habit he had broken, but his heat always dredged up things that refused to die. During his last unmedicated heat, he had chewed off the end of his throw pillow and ripped the stuffing out in his sleep. The pillow between his legs was ruined as well for different reasons. You can’t get silk wet and expect the crust to come out easy.

Had Riker been his valet then, he would surely be raising some Doberman pups. That man had never looked sexier then when he was helping take apart Reeva. The powerful fingers tipped with grease that would surely stain his golden fur, mark him, claim him, and the power dynamic would be hot too.

Gabe’s inner eye started going to more and more dirty places as he nibbled on the throw and sipped his whisky. He didn’t care if he chewed right through the fabric. The older movie was putting him in a mood for some rugged men, and Ryker was pretty rugged by the time his five o’clock shadow came in.

Gabe nearly bit through the plastic rung in the fabric when his thoughts broached the hotel with Jagger. The golden had to suppress a whine with a sip of whisky while rubbing his thighs together, his pussy drooling into his pad. Oh god, he was down bad for bad boys, and he couldn’t help it. Gabe wasn’t an idiot, he knew he had a thing for dark men, but at least he was smart about it. When the cowboys would show their guns and talk all low and raspy, Gabe was transported to Jagger’s office, on his knees, with the bitter tang of gunpowder being forced into the back of his throat.

“Oh god…” Gabe huffed into the pillow, his spine tingling as the thought of Jagger pistol whipping him and then slamming him against the wall, rutting him while calling him a spoiled rich boy was making his mind boil. He felt like he was feverish, his toes digging into the cushion beneath him as he hugged his pillow tighter.

The echoing grunts of that love making in his mind tickled his ears, his lobes folding backwards submissively. He even ran a hand over the back of his neck, his nails digging into his scruff to simulate a bite. He had to hide a gasp as he bit his lip. Gabe tried to focus on the movie, but now he was seeing Jagger on that horse, his gruff exterior clad in cotton over shirts, leather vests, and big, big cowboy boots. The stallion would clearly be called Reeva, a massive black Andalusian that would carry her equally devious looking rider into the canyon where his bandit camp would work his captive over. The fresh golden lab now a piece of meat for all his rough and tough cowboy gang members. Passing him around until his heat was put out, using his pheromones to whip them all into a frenzy like a drug.

Their grunts rolling through the canyon, companied by his whimpers and orgasmic screams…

Wait…

Gabe’s ears twitched as he heard a grunt and some muffled words. He couldn’t be sure if he was hearing things or not, or if it was something with the movie. The golden looked around, but the German was nowhere to be seen. Gabe pursed his lips, an odd sense of frustration washing over him, an unease that was famed to greater heights due to his heat. He chewed his inner cheek without his pillow in his maw and went to get up.

“Where are you going?” Lawrence asked gently. “Want me to pause?”

“I’ve seen it a thousand times,” Gabe waived him off. “I’m just going to take a leak.”

“Alright, but be back soon, your favorite part is coming up,” Lawrence gave him a sly look. He was right, it was his favorite part. He conceded that little bit of trivia to him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gabe went up the stairs, the sound of grunting now louder. Was he just hearing things again or were the guards fucking upstairs? God, he needed to get his mind out of the gutter. It wasn’t like he was going to see a couple of guys going at it.

Gabe paused as he turned the corner and saw one of the rooms had the door cracked, light pouring out of it. The grunts and panting were inconsistent, so it’s not like he thought there was anything funny going on, but maybe his perverse mind was hoping for something to get off to now that his heat was needling him with need. Gabe bit his lower lip and started to slide down the hall, making sure to be as quiet as possible.

Another grunt and coughing. Some words were exchanged, but they were too soft to hear. What was going on?

Gabe held his breath as he got close enough to the door to peer inside. There were a couple of the guards from before, but the German was there, his fist jabbed forward. Was he punching someone? That explained the grunting.

“Where are the rest of them?” The German demanded. “You and your little pack ain’t going to get the drop on us again.”

“G-Go to hell, pin cushion-GA!”

Gabe’s ears twitched. It couldn’t be…could it?

“I’ll fucking slice your nuts open you piece of shit,” the person being interrogated spoke.

“Jagger?” Gabe opened the door, his heat melted mind making him honestly believe that Jagger would spend any effort trying to come get him. Even his need made him see Jagger for a minute, the wolf tied to the chair before them a large wolf, but he couldn’t be Jagger.

“Uptown?”

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