The Law of Love (Casket & Porcelain Bones)

James 'Coffinhunter' White stood 6'4" and weighed almost 260lbs, he was big and muscular and covered in intimidating tattoos. He had short-cut, dark slicked back hair and dark eyes, with a scar running down the side of his square jawline and every inch of him looked the part of an enforcer for the country's most notorious motorcycle gang, The Devil's Disciples.

He'd gotten the macabre nickname from his cohorts by how dangerously he rode his motorcycle, they'd said he rode like he was hunting for his coffin and the moniker stuck. Although he was still fairly new to the organization, having only earned his patch a year prior, he'd quickly rose through the ranks and was currently a lieutenant and head of what the gang called, the wrecking crew, meaning he was allowed to sit in at the big table where all the major decision making for the gang took place.

The DDMC's current President was a man named Hector 'Heck' Tingue nicknamed 'Blood'. He was as dangerous as he was intelligent and had taken the gang from a two-bit gang of thugs, to an international organized crime syndicate in the five years he'd been in charge. Before his reign of terror, the DDMC might have been guilty of dealing small scale pot or carrying the occasional unregistered firearm,where as now they were suspected of Gun trafficking, and the manufacturing of Methamphetamine on a grand scale.

Heck had managed to arrange alliances with the Russian Mafia in New York as well as the South American drug cartels and although he was on most federal and state law enforcement agencies watch lists, they'd yet to actually catch him doing anything that would stick. The ATF had taken an especially strong interest in the MC's activities and labeled Blood their White Whale, because no matter how hard they tried to apprehend him, he always managed to slip the noose.

This is where James came into the picture, he wasn't actually the hardened criminal that he appeared to be. The truth was that James Tiberon, not White, was actually an undercover federal agent for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms better known as the ATF. He was a former Marine who'd joined the state police after his two tours of duty in Iraq and during his training in the police academy he'd been approached by the federals for a very this special mission. The infiltration and eventual destruction of a notorious motorcycle gang was the sales pitch, and it sounded like something the war hardened action junkie was more suited for than sitting on the sides of highway's eating doughnuts and chastising speeding motorists. James practically jumped at the chance.

Of course he had no idea what he was in for when he signed up, but soon found out. He had to completely dissolve his former identity, ceasing all contact with his family or friends from his former life. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, James Tiberon had died a hero in Iraq and he was now James White, a former marine with PTSD turned criminal and known killer fresh out of prison and looking to make a name for himself. His only connection to who he formily was would be a single man, Agent Harry Carlson would be the only person on the planet who knew who he actually was.

It wasn't just letting his hair grow shaggy and not shaving his face either, he had to get tattooed and minor plastic surgery to attain a far more permenant form of disguise. And once the physical transformation was complete he was forced to do a short stint in prison to complete the fascade. James was tough, both physically and mentally but after his release he found out just how hard this mission truly would be. He was tasked with getting the DDMC's attention and that was done by hurting people. Bar fights, street brawls, run ins with the police all par for the course but it wasn't until they actually agreed to prospect him that he saw the true depths he was going to have to sink to, to gain their acceptance.

The gang wouldn't ever accept anyone until they witnessed you doing a felony crime to be sure you weren't a cop. James was tasked with murder, killing a rival gang member. Agent Carlson had arranged it so that James wouldn't have to actually kill anyone, and that the suposed victim would end up in witness protection, but things didn't go to plan and James ened up actually killing the man.

Agent Carlson had assured him that the murder would be written up as self defense and that it was good for his cover, but James still had nightmares from his conscious torturing him over the heinous act. This was nothing like the kills he'd chalked up in the military, this was something far more visceral and he simply couldn't shake it but he was in too deep now, and there was no turning back.

The funniest thing was that in that first year, James found himself actually growing fond of these delinquents he was being forced to hang out with. Not at first of course, but the longer he spent with them the more he could see their good traits instead of their bad ones. It was kinda like the guys in his squad when he was enlisted in the military. Sure many of them were annoying or down right despicable when you first met them, but as time went by and you realized that these same guys had your back in a firefight, you stopped seeing the bad shit and only saw them as comrades.

Soon he even found himself omitting gathered evidence against some of them, so that the case the ATF was building wouldn't reflect so badly on them. Agent Carlson would have shit a solid gold brick if he'd known, but he didn't. He was like a mushroom for James, feed him shit and keep him in the dark. He was happy to have anything James was willing to give, and James was happy to loose anything that was overly incriminating to guys that were genuinely decent guys, even if they'd chosen this life of crime. Blood was the sole exception, anything James could get on him was immediately rendered over to Agent Carlson, the problem was that it was almost nothing. Blood rarely ever got his actual hands dirty, allowing his willing cronies the heavy lifting in the actual criminal enterprises.

Today, Friday July 29th, 2016 James awoke in his own bed after being away for almost three weeks. He'd been assigned almost a month ago to travel from their home turf in Oregon, down to New Orleans to investigate missing cargo shipments the South American Cartel were complaining about. He and his Wrecking Crew had sussed out the corrupt Dock workers and dealt with them, making Blood happy, as well as Agent Carlson in the process. But his vacation was over now and he'd been ordered to report to the clubhouse for his next assignment.

James dressed but didn't shower, instead a simple shellacing of hair grease to lay his pillow headed hair into place and his uniform. Leather pants, and heavy steel toed motorcycle boots, a wife beater, and his 'cut'. A cut was usually a denim jacket sans sleeves which held your colors. It was usually worn over a leather jacket, but today was too hot for that and he'd chosen to go with out his jacket. On the back of the cut was the Devil's Disciples insignia, a red horned devil holding a pitch fork in one hand and the world in the other. 'Rockers' framed the top and bottom of the main symbol, these were name of your club on top, and the bottom rocker read the territory that your gang laid claim to. Next to that was an MC patch, and on the other side was the most important patch, it read 1%er and it meant you were the baddest of the bad. The front of the cut was mostly decorative badges, a nickname, "Coffinhunter", a gun patch which was symbolic of killing for the club, a set of menacing eyes, meaning he'd watched out for the clubs interests over his own and finally his position in the club, head enforcer, Lieutenant.

Into the rear of his waistband James tucked his 357 revolver, a final look in the mirror to reassure his confidence in his cover and he was ready to ride. He walked out of the dive house he'd rented since first taking the role of James White and hopped on to his classic Knucklehead chopper, hitting the ignition and kick starting the faded maroon beast to life. A wild wheelie down the small suburban street and he was off like a bat out of hell.

Thirty minutes later, on a ride that should have taken 45 minutes, James rolled into the parking lot of the Devil's Den. The bar had been a failed redneck dive before Blood had purchased it and turned it into the DDMC's clubhouse, now it was a fortified fortress. He parked his bike, disembarked and walked up to the front entrance where two young prospects stood, trying their hardest to look tough. James only nodded as he walked by and entered unobstructed.

As soon as he entered the smoke filled bar area several of the men turned and gave him a nod, he was well liked here. James scanned the faces of the crowd and saw the usual suspects; Denver, Skank, Astro, Creep, Ratfuck, Heathen, and Barry the Bump. All of these men would eventually spend time in federal prison or end up dead in a hail of gunfire and all because of the cases James himself had built against them. He nodded back without a hint of guilt and walked to the table where where his crew was seated.

The Wrecking Crew were a gang within the gang, run by Coffinhunter, they were tasked with the business of hurting people when the DDMC deemed it necessary. Turpentine, Geiger, Vader and Lil Hank were four of the toughest sons of bitches James had known since he was in the Marines and he considered each and everyone of them to be his friends.

"Sup Coffin, how'd that shit pan out man?" Turpentine asked, pulling his whiskey sour up and taking a swig at 10 am in the morning.

"Good, I got it all handled, how was the ride back?" He responded and sat down at the table.

"You a smooth operator, that's why Blood pays ya the big bucks. The ride was good, ran into a 'statey' around Utah, he didn't fair too well." Turp answered and slid a beer over to his Lieutenant. James took it and nodded, scanning the crowd, all of which looked familiar except one, a chick standing over near the booth seats at the back of the clubhouse. These were the seats Blood and his VP usually sat at when conducting business, and sure enough they were there, and talking with someone, but James couldn't make out who.

"Who's the new Dame?" James asked, tipping his beer bottle in her direction.

"Don't know, prolly one of Blood's side bitches." Turp answered.

"Where's Denise?" James asked. Denise was Blood's real Ol' lady, his bottom bitch. Sure the guy had plenty of girlfriends but Denise was his wife and an old school biker broad from the boots up. She was the MC's mother figure and her word carried almost as much weight as Blood's own.

"Skipped town, heard they had some big blow out while we were down in NOLA. Now he's been hanging with that pretty new one." Vader spoke up.

"And Blood has her standing in while he's conducting business? That don't seem strange to anyone else?" James asked.

"Hey man, I don't make the rules, I just play by them." Vader said and smirked.

James got up from the table and started over toward the table, it was hard to tell what the new girl looked like, but even in the smokey atmosphere he could see she was as hot as a two dollar pistol. But as he approached the VP, Hannibal stood and held up a hand to stop James' advance.

"What's up Han?" James asked.

"Not much, Blood's just finishing up a meeting, he'll be with you shortly." Hannibal said, standing in front of James with his arms folded.

After a few minutes Blood concluded his meeting and the man he'd been conversing with stood to leave. His back still to James, the first thing James saw was the patch on the guy's back. It was a feral dog wearing a sombrero, Los Perros Locos were a rival motorcycle gang and as the man turned he saw a familiar face. Jose 'Blanco' Rodriguez, an enforcer for the Crazy Dogs, was a man that held the same position as James did in his own organization, except Jose wasn't an undercover cop, he was the real deal, a man that would gladly shoot and old lady or a child in the face if ordered to.

Jose's eyes came up to meet James' and the two locked onto each other's gaze for a brief second before Jose pushed passed him, bumping shoulders as he did so. James turned back to meet Blood's gaze and saw the boss motioning him over.

"Hey man what the fuck was that about?" James asked as he approached the table, taking another second to eye the pretty girl up and down again.

"Don't fucking worry about it, if you need to know, I'll be the one to tell you, how'd NOLA go?" Blood asked, chewing his toothpick and staring at James through his blacked out sunglasses. The bar was dark, but that never stopped Blood from wearing shades, the guy was rarely ever without them.

"NOLA is handled, the cartel won't be having any more shipments go missing from the docks. So who's this fine little thing, what happened to Denise, she's practically a staple round here?" James asked, nodding toward the gorgeous girl standing next to Blood's booth.

"Denise had to take a vacation..." Blood said coldly and then turned to the beautiful biker babe posted up next to him. "...Well don't just stand there looking good, introduce yourself to my Lieutenant Coffinhunter." Blood instructed the young pretty woman.

Growing up the daughter of an abusive father, and a junkie drunk for a mother Dakota Lane developed thick skin. In elementary school and middle school she never fit in with the other kids. While all the other kids had nice clothes and parents with reputable jobs, Dakota only dreamed of having such a life. None of the other kids ever payed her any mind, unless is was to laugh at her due to her appearance or stories they had made up about her home life. Teachers didn't want to put the time and effort into lending a helping hand with the bullying or bruises her father left behind. It wasn't until high school came around that Koda finally found a group of kids she fit in with, the misfits.

The misfits consisted of exactly the type of kids most would think, the weirdos, outcasts, addicts, and loners. It didn't take long for Dakota to start experimenting with drugs and alcohol with this new group of friends she had made. First it started out with smoking different strains of cannabis and drinking beer every now and again, but once the cycle started a monster slowly began to grow. As things at home became worse and Dakota's grade's started to drop she found herself turning to drugs and alcohol to help her cope. Pain pills, acid, cocaine, and amphetamines became her vice. Remarkably, she ended up passing all her classes and quickly Dakota approached her senior year.

Only a few weeks into the new school year Dakota got called into the principals office to be greeted by two police officers, the principle, and her guidance counselor. Just as she could feel the anxiety growing inside of her, thinking she finally got caught under the influence, one of the officers spoke up. The next statement that softly came out of the officer's mouth his Kodi like a brick. Her mom had died due to an OD shortly after she had left for school that morning. Everything the young girl had been keeping inside all these years came out as tears began to pour down her cheeks. Not knowing what to do, she sat their shaking with sadness as she starred down at her hands in her lap. She despised her mother for what she had put her through but she still loved her beyond words.

Knowing that if she going down the road she was headed she would soon end up like her mother, and that thought scared her more than anything else ever had. From that moment forward, Dakota had vowed to get clean and get her life back on track.

Shortly after her mother's passing, her father disappeared without saying a word and never came back. Being eighteen at this point, Koda had no choice but to fend for herself. She had no prior experience or skill in life that she could use to get a job so she turned to the easiest thing she could find, stripping. Being young and attractive it wasn't had for the girl to make money and in no time she doing well on her own.

Once she graduated high school, she was faced with the task of college and what she wanted to do with her life. After deciding that she wanted to be able to help people without having to deal with bodily fluids of any sort, Koda settled on becoming a therapist. She continued dancing to put herself through school, and after four years she had her degree. After a few months of working the quiet, almost boring life of a therapist Dakota started to miss the thrill and fun that came along with dancing, and was back to it within six months.

Shortly after returning back to the club she started to notice a frequent visitor, and it didn't take long for him to notice her either. It wasn't until Hector requested a private dance from her that Dakota noticed his cut. At first knowing that he was part of the DDMC made her nervous, not wanting to say or do anything to set him off but after a few visits she started to warm up to him. EVentually one thing lead to another and whenever him and his wife got into a fight he would come see her at work, or give her a call.

Hector never talked about the MC and even told Dakota not to bring it up whenever she mentioned it and after awhile she gave up on the subject. It wasn't until the two got to talking one night after a fight with his ole' lady that Dakota had brought up that she helped the owner of the club with his books that Heck, mentioned the club. He told her that one of the guys had been taking care of the clubs books but he wasn't one hundred percent confident with the job he was doing and asked Koda is she wouldn't mind double checking all his work.

She had been to the club house a few times, to double check the books and keep Heck company but it was usually only when nobody else was around. Today however he called her up to ask her to listen in on a conversation he would be having with someone, because few people would think anything of a chick listening in.

Pulling up to the club house in her blacked out Challenger, she stepped out of her car before shutting the door and looking over at the two prospects standing guard at the door. Laughing softly to herself, the petite young girl walked up to the front of the clubhouse and patted one of the guys on the shoulder as she passed. Her black stiletto boots clicked on the hard wood floor as she made her way inside. Lifting her black sunglasses from her face, she pushed them up on top of her head, pushing her long icy blonde waves from her face. Dakota's grey blue eyes wondered the room until she felt a hand grab her ass through the daisy dukes had on. Turning she saw a smirk upon Heck's face that made her smile, softly.

Without saying a word she followed him to the booth seats in the back, and stood next to him for a moment before walking over to the bar to get him a beer. When she returned she saw another man sitting across from him as well as another guy she had seen around the club house before. Quietly, and with a smile she sat the beer down in from of Heck before leaning up against the side of the seats. Twirling her hair around her finger she acted as though she was paying no attention and was completely oblivious as to what was going on behind her but she was listening carefully to every word.

After about fifteen minutes the group was finished talking and the one guy got up and walked out of the club house. She glanced down at Heck but due to his sunglasses and a blank face she couldn't read him very well. It wasn't until she head a new voice the she looked over at saw another guy had walked over. Koda's eyes looked him up and down as he was talking to Heck and she unintentionally blocked their words out. All she could think about was how sexy this guy standing next to her was.

It wasn't until he mentioned her that Kodi, tuned back in to the conversation. A small smile spread on her lips at his compliment before she bit her inner lip to hide it. When Heck instructed her to introduce herself she stretched out one of her heavily tattoo arms and offered her hand for a handshake, "I'm Dakota, but you can call me Koda, Kodi, or whatever tickles your fancy. It's nice to meet you." She said softly, as she looked over at the Lieutenant.

Coffin's eyes scanned her up and down again as she introduced herself, the girl was gorgeous, but that was no surprise as Blood didn't bother with girls that weren't stunning. She had a great round ass and nice perky tits, but the most attractive part of the young woman was her eyes, she seemed to have a certain intelligence that was obvious in them, which was a change for Blood, usually he dated really hot but really dumb girls. " Nice to meet you Kodi, I'm James, but my friends all call me Coffin. How'd such a pretty little thing like you end up with a low life like Blood?" James asked and chuckled.

"Never you fucking mind that, I got her and you can't have any. Your just jealous I pull down hot tail like this..." Blood said and reached out and cupped Dakota's ass with his hand, his fingers reaching up into the short hem of her daisy duke shorts and tickling her pussy lips. "Koda is all mine motherfucker, ain't you baby?" Blood finished and James laughed but it was another voice that sounded next.

"Yeah she's hot, but that don't mean it's ok for you to have her checking my numbers man. I've been doing the book since you were a prospect Blood, and Greybeard never second guessed my calculations." Hannibal said, as he returned from the bar with beers and set them down on the table, a disgruntled look on his face.

"Settle down old man, It ain't like I think your stealing or anything, It's just you're as old as dirt and back in the day the club wasn't pulling down several million a week. Did numbers even go that high when you were back in school?" Blood answered, reached up and patted his elder VP on the shoulder. "Look I'll make it up to you, ok? Koda here is the hottest dancer in the strip club, Why don't you and her go over to the bar, so Coffin and I can talk and she'll give you the best lap dance you've ever had. I guarantee you'll cum in your pants, ain't that right Koda?" Blood said, giving Dakota's ass another squeeze.

Just as Kodi opened her mouth to answer Jame's question Blood chimed in and answered his question for him. A small gasp escaped from her lips when his hand cupped her ass with a firm grip, his finger teasing her pussy making her bite her bottom lip and moan softly. "Mmm, yes I am but you know what teasingly me like that will get you." Her finger moved down his chest slowly as she gazed up at him, though she could only see herself in the reflection of his glasses.

Turning she looked over as she heard someone else speak up, particularly about the books. She watched Hannibal as he moved from the bar over to where they were standing and she offered him a soft smile as to tell him she meant no harm. While Blood calmed Hannibal down, Koda's eyes wandered back over to James. Her eyes scanned him up and down once more and although she couldn't put her finger on it, she knew there was something different about him. It was something that spoke to the more calm, reasonable and level minded side of the girl as if this whole bad ass biker thing was just a front.

It wasn't until she felt her ass being squeezed again that she tuned back into reality, and looked back over at Blood. Laughing breathlessly she smiled and nodded, "Huh? Oh yeah, of course." Reaching out, she grabbed Hannibal by his shirt and dragged him over to one of the chairs near the bar before pushing him down in it. "Sit tight for me." She said softly, her tone now more seductive and sultry than before. Koda walked over to a jukebox on the wall by the bar and started scanning through the music, her hips already swaying back and forth. After settling on Too Fast For Love by Motley Crue of her favorites to dance to, she began to make her way back over to Hannibal. Standing in front of him, Koda began to do her thing, letting the music take control over her body and her mind so that everything else around her was a blur. The young girl moved her her hips slowly at first, before making her way up to the tempo of the beat. Bending forward she placed one of her hands on the ground as her ass began to shake in time with her hips. Slowly standing back up, she ran her hands up the sides of her body before turning and facing the old man. Her hips still moving with the music she made her way over to him and straddled his lap, her hands resting on the back of the chair. She couldn't help but smile at the audible groan out of his mouth when her body began to grind against his. Moving one of her hands, she placed it on the back of his head and pressed it towards her chest, burying his face in the fabric draping over her breasts. Dakota held his head their as she started to move her hips up and down, her other hand reaching up towards her hair and entangling her fingers with it.

Before the song was even half way over the old man pulled back from her chest and let out a deep breath. "Holy shit." He groaned out as he looked up at the girl, a big grin on his lips. "You're too hot for me to handle sweetheart. I need a minute to myself." And with that Dakota stood up with a laugh and pushed her hair out of her face. She watched as the old man made his way down one of the long hallways of the club house, "I'll give you the other half some other time." She called out before he disappeared around the corner with a wave of his hand.

Dakota looked over towards Blood and Coffin to see the two of them still talking. Deciding to mind her own business and to let the two finish talking she walked over to the bar and grabbed herself a beer, before leaning up against it, looking at the pictures that had been hung up on the wall surrounded by all the hard liquor.