Between 3 by J.L. Oiler

Celeste sat silently watching out the window of the big pickup truck as they pulled into the parking lot of the local hotspot. The place was crowded as usual, which in this case was a very good thing. It wasn’t as if there were many places to go out here and they’d worn their welcome out at all the spots closer to home, just about twenty miles up the road. The crowd meant Cliff was less likely to use her like a punching bag when she broke the news to him that they were through.

She’d covered one too many bruises and made far too many excuses for him over the past six months. After tonight, she didn’t intend to let it ever happen again. Even now, she found herself forced to wear a shirt with sleeves that covered three quarters of her arms. It was a necessity, even in this ninety-plus degree weather. She was trying to hide his latest onslaught. She’d attempted to cover the dark, purplish blue finger marks with makeup, but in the end conceded that it was impossible. At least the marks would heal enough that she could still get some use out of those frilly tank tops she bought before the weather turned cooler, not that it ever managed to get too cold in Death Valley Junction. The lowest she remembered it getting was around sixty-five and that was in December. Of course, that all hinged on the idea that Cliff didn’t kill her when she broke the news. Most likely, leaving him would cause a ripple of difficulties. She should’ve known better than to get involved with the boss’s son. Tonight she’d not only be dropping a boyfriend, but her job answering phones at the construction company as well.

In honesty, Celeste didn’t understand why she’d stayed so long. That a ha moment came last evening while she was listening to the radio and scrubbing his latest fit from the kitchen floor. It was a silly thing really, a sappy country song empowering her. Nevertheless, she didn’t care what gave her the strength to stand up for herself, only that whatever it was worked.

Unfastening her seat belt, she slid out of the passenger side and walked toward the establishment’s front entrance, nervous butterflies dancing in her stomach. Reading the flashing name as she moved, Celeste sighed. The Devils Playpen. Great–that sounded promising. She’d definitely need a few drinks before accomplish what she knew she had to get done. Following closely at Cliff’s heels, she caught the door as he entered first and pushed the heavy wooden structure closed behind him. “Such a gentleman,” she mumbled under her breath as she pulled a twenty out of her jeans pocket to pay the cover charge while Cliff made a beeline toward the bar. This was another thing Celeste definitely wouldn’t miss. From here on out, if she was going out with a man, he’d better be footing the bill or at least splitting the cost.

Spotting an empty table in the far corner near the edge of the bar, Celeste stuffed her change into her pocket and pushed her way through the crowd to grab the seat before someone else beat her to it. The place was rocking as a local band played on the small stage in the back of the dimly lit bar. The growing crowd meant she’d have to ask someone to slide their chair up as she journeyed toward the open table. About midway to her destination, she bumped against a large male as he carried two mugs of draft beer, some of which splashed onto her blouse.

“Oh, sorry hun. Looks like I thought you were going to take part in a wet t-shirt contest.”

Looking up, Celeste found herself gazing into the most brilliant set of blue eyes she’d ever seen. Of course, the fact his face resembled a statute of a chiseled God complete with dimples didn’t slip her notice either. Dumb struck for a moment, she gaped like a fish out of water before finding her voice. His massive biceps were covered with as mattering of tribal tats and those gorgeous lips made her hot and bothered. Damn but she’d always loved the biker bad boy type and this man was sin wrapped in a heavenly package. “I’m sorry. It was totally my fault.” She could feel the heat of a blush creep up her chest and face as he smiled down at her.

“No problem, sweetheart.”

She watched as the man headed off in the direction he’d been heading before she had dang near knocked the beer from his hands. Sighing, she noticed as he took a seat beside a petite blond that looked like she’d stepped out of one of those calendars you find in a greasy auto body garage. Figured a man like that would like a size zero blond. Just once Celeste wished a guy like that would give her a second glance. One thing about it, from the look of things, his little pop tart girlfriend wasn’t too happy with him. Celeste might not be able to hear the words they exchanged but she knew the look well. She just wished she’d asked his name.

Finally heading on her way again, she bumped shoulders with at least two other patrons in her attempt to grab the establishment’s last available table. Pulling out a chair and plopping her bottom into it so that she could watch most of the room, she motioned for a beer as a waitress passed by. Looking around, Celeste realized the place seemed like a who’s who of working class folks, from bikers to bikini waxers. Mister gorgeous was shouting and busting knuckles with half a dozen of his buddies as his pop tart princess filed her nails and shot them all dirty looks. At a table near them sat five construction workers, several of which she recognized from work. Not that she actually had much contact with the workers, but rather had been the one to hand them the pink slips Cliff’s dad had given most of them a little over a month ago. From the looks of it, they’d found work with another company. Girls of every size, shape, and ethnicity imaginable packed the place. “Just like Santa Claus, filled with Ho, Ho, Ho’s,” she said with a chuckle as the waitress sat down the beer bottle and collected three bucks.

“Give me ten bucks,” Cliff’s gruff tone said from nearby as Celeste looked up and watched him move toward the table, a bottle in his hands and a dusty white mustache below his hawkish nose. Great, just what she needed, a flying high, cocaine psycho.

“Do I look like your banker?” She hissed at him overtop her beer.

“I want in on that pool game. Just hand me some fucking money.”

Celeste tossed a ten on the table and took a long drink of her beer. “When you’re done playing, we need to talk”

“Whatever.” Cliff staggered off, leaving her alone at the table, as was often the case. At least this time she was sitting where she could watch some sexy eye candy. To make things even better, an equally gorgeous friend, in a pair of black leather chaps, joined her sexy biker.

“Hey Craig, what’s happening?” Justin looked up from his beer to greet his best friend and comrade. Craig and his team had been out scouting for females and it appeared their search hadn’t been successful.

The group had been topside for a little over two weeks, trolling for females who could handle the life of the Keepers. They only had twenty-four hours left before they needed to return to the underground city of Haden to man their posts guarding the gates to hell.

Keeping the hellhounds, demons, and some impish spirits in line was a hazardous and time-consuming job, not to mention that the conditions of living in the bowels of the earth tended to be a bit daunting. Alright, so other little difficulties didn’t have woman jumping at the chance to join them. Not known for being the gentlest lovers, and the fact they existed in teams, meant that the ratio was two Keepers and one woman. Ménage was the term Craig had heard some people use.

“Looks like you might have a prospect,” Craig commented, giving the tiny bubble headed blond seated beside him a semi interested once over.

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t bet on it.” The blonde was willing enough, but the last thing he wanted was some daft chick that whined around and couldn’t hold a conversation higher than that of a schoolgirl. He also couldn’t get the woman who’d bumped into him and spilled beer all over her shirt, out of his mind. Justin thought she was built to lay between two of his kind. Full curves, long dark hair, blue eyes like the deep pools in the east caverns, and lips meant for hours of hot kissing. Her voice sounded like a lovers stroke across his cock, leaving him ready for action.

“Do you have another in mind?” Craig had always been able to read him easily, which was why they were the best team in their division. They’d been together for the past century, always having each other’s back when the shit got deep, as it did far too often. Unfortunately, in all that time, they hadn’t found a lover capable of satisfying their needs for more than a single romp and there’d been no-one they’d consider capable of taking back to Haden. They needed someone to be a productive member of the team, not just a mindless, whiney sex object. After all, there was more to life then rolling around naked and grunting all day. They needed a smart, intelligent woman with two strong hands and a sense of humor. Though tonight they’d admit a good romp in the sack was forefront in their minds. They’d gone a long time without the comforts of a soft, womanly body.

Rather than answer right out and be rude to the brainless female giggling at his side, Justin smiled then shot a look across the room toward the pretty brunette. She’d been watching them and looked away when both men looked her way.

What they both really wanted was to find an Atrey mate, a female who would forever be their third, the mother of their children and their soul mate. The Atrey were a rare breed of beings that dwelled between the two worlds, not human and not Keeper. They were something between the two. They held the physical attributes of the human side yet were gifted with the longevity and cunning of the Keepers. The largest difference between the Atrey was that unlike the Keepers, the Atrey were all females. Each of the current Keepers housed inside the guard compound, with the exception of Miren, came from Atrey mothers. The Atrey mate formed an unbreakable bond with their Keeper mates, symbolized by the formation of the mate marks, the perfect third. Unfortunately, no one had seen an Atrey for over a human century.

“Damn,” Celeste mumbled under her breath. She tried to pretend the two sexy bikers didn’t catch her staring. Ordering herself something a little harder than a beer, she leaned back in the chair to watch the men across the room once again. Something interesting was happening and Celeste had a front row seat for all the action. Too bad she couldn’t hear what they said. Obviously, the female was unhappy with something said by the second male that had just arrived. Celeste watched the girl bob her blond head back and forth as she spoke then she turned toward the male seated to her right and gave him a serious pout. After he said something else to her, she stood and stomped off toward the bar, leaving the two sexy males at the table alone.

Neither male followed the little pop tart nor did they seem affected by her departure. The second male took the seat vacated by the pissed off chick and chatted for a moment or two with his friend. Celeste would have loved to be able to hear what they discussed. It might have given her a heads up when they both raised their heads and looked directly at her as she sat grinning. The new comer raised his beer bottle in a bar type hello as she felt heat creep up her face for the second time in a very short span. The mere look of the two of them was enough to leave her pussy wet. In fact, Celeste couldn’t help imagining being sandwiched between those to hard bodies as they buried their cocks deep inside her.

“Caught again,” she mumbled as she nodded back to the man.

“Give me another twenty,” Cliff grumbled as he returned from the pool table where his opponents watched him suspiciously. Evidently, he’d bet more cash then he could pay.

“Use your own money.”

“I said give me another twenty.” Cliff stepped closer toward her, his face turning red and the tale tell vein in his forehead throbbing at her.

“It’s not my responsibility to pay your gambling debts,” Celeste threw back at him. She was tired of paying his debts both financially and physically. She was more determined than ever to end this now.

“You stupid, fucking bitch!” he screeched as he reached out and grabbed a handful of her long hair. Using it to jerk her to her feet, he reached into her front pocket for the cash. Celeste screamed, feeling as though he was about to scalp her. Enough was enough.

“You fucking bastard, let go of me.” She kicked him hard in the shin, the impact making a loud thud when her boot struck. It wasn’t enough to do any real damage but it did succeed in making him release the grip he had on her hair.

“Take that shit outside,” the barkeeper yelled as he came toward them both with a worn and dented wooden bat in his big, meaty hands. Clearly the piece has seen its share of domestic disputes in its time.

It wasn’t exactly what Celeste wanted, to go outside. That meant there’d be no witnesses and no Calvary should Cliff decide he couldn’t live without her to knock around. Still, she had more self-respect than to tremble like a frightened rabbit in front of a bunch of strangers. Standing up, she brushed herself off, rubbed the sore spot on the top of her head and gave the barkeep a tight smile as an apology before flipping her soon to be ex the bird. Heading for the door, she caught a glimpse of the two sexy bikers a few short feet away. Were they planning to intervene on her behalf? It would be nice as hell to know there were still some real men out there. Too bad Celeste just never seemed to luck into one.

“I can’t believe you actually told her we only do threesomes and she wasn’t big enough for the ride.” Justin shook his head and chucked before taking another swig from the long neck bottle. Craig had never been one to waste words, which is one of the reasons they were together. Justin always knew where the other male stood on things.

“Why not? It’s not like she was the type that would last very long with two of us. Anyway, I like the perky girl you pointed out earlier. Looks like someone we could ride for hours and still not mind waking up to.” Craig raised his beer bottle toward the woman who’d been staring at them and smiled as she blushed and waved back.

“That might be a problem.” Justin watched as a man who appeared to have already had one drink too many stalked toward her.

Both Keepers froze in disbelief as they watched the man grab the female by her hair and pull her from the seat, her feet nearly leaving the floor as he screamed obscenities at her. Not known for gentleness in the throes of passion, never would one of their kind treat a female in such a barbaric way. Rage radiated off both men, their protective instincts on full alert. Hell be damned if they’d stand by and watch a woman be abused. Standing, they moved in unison, crossing the distance between them and the woman quickly. The barkeeper, seeing the skirmish, also moved toward the woman and as he slapped the thick bat against his palm, he ordered the pair outside.

Justin watched the female rub her head and then give her best apologetic smile to the barkeep before turning to flip her middle finger at the male who’d so viciously man handled her. She exited the place at a quick pace, her head held high. The drunk man spit on the floor at the bartender’s feet and headed out after her, a vengeful look in his eyes.

“I think we should go make certain things don’t get ugly,” Craig said as he turned to follow the couple into the dark parking lot.

“Robert, I suggest you return to your job and forget everything you just saw,” Justin told the bartender who looked at the two Keepers, both twice his size, and nodded his head. They’d been coming to this establishment for a while and had a sort of unspoken agreement. The staff knew there was something a bit different about the men but kept their distance. In return, Justin and Craig allowed nothing to get out of hand, and protected the staff from any unexpected danger.

“Craig, wait up, we need to be cautious.” The last thing they needed was a dead body in the mix because his partner decided to break the bastard they were following in half. Violence probably wasn’t the best way to ask the woman if she’d like to go somewhere and get to know the pair of them a little better.

“I won’t kill him if that’s what you’re worried about,” Justin’s partner tossed over one broad shoulder as he stepped out the door.

“I hope not. Were still cleaning up from the last time you got angry with a human.”

“How dare you disrespect me like that, you stupid cunt!” Cliff caught up with Celeste just outside the door, grabbing her by the arm and jerking her to a stop. His fingers bit into her skin, leaving little doubt she’d be sporting a fresh set of bruises by morning.

“Get your damn hands off me. We’re through, you hear me? I don’t care if it costs me my job. I don’t ever want to see your face again,” Celeste screamed at him, wrenching her arm away, turning to face him with all her fury.

“You uppity bitch. You think you can just use me and walk away scot-free?”

“Use you? I’m the one that pays all the bills and covers your ass when you’re too drunk to work.” How could he possibly accuse her of using him, the good for nothing slug.

“You have your job because I’m the son of the boss. You fucked me to keep it.”

“No, I took your beatings to keep it, but never again.”

“Where do you think you’re going to go?” he asked, spraying her with spit as he spoke. “No one else would want to fuck your fat ass.”

“Being alone and taking care of myself would be better than sleeping with you.”

Reaching out, he caught her by the shirt and pulled her forward as he swung his other fist, punching her hard in the face. While Celeste always laughed at the cartoons where the character saw stars when struck, now she could vouch that it was possible.

“What the f..” she heard Cliff yelp as he released his hold on her shirt and she crumbled to the ground, the world around her beginning to spin.

Craig stepped outside just in time to hear the female say she’d rather satisfy herself then deal with the jerk she stood facing down and to watch in horror as the husky man swung and knocked the woman to the ground.

Anger seething through him, if Justin hadn’t taken the lead and grabbed hold of the idiot first, human blood would have hit the ground big time. Instead, Craig fought to reign in his own demon while his partner gave the man a good thrashing and used his true face to suggest the stupid human never come near the woman again.

Without the guise of their human face, their flesh became taunt over a bone structure that was sharper and more defined. Monstrous, he remembered some woman saying when he lost control of the mask in a moment of passion. By the look on the face of the human Justin released to run away, he’d heard the order loud and clear. Now they needed to see to the female, hoping, the strike hadn’t injured her too badly.