Surviving the Biker

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I bit back a smile. I had to give her credit, when she wanted something, she didn’t hold back. “I see you’re enjoying the hell out of that one.”

She winked. “What can I say? I love to suck on things.”

Ignoring her comment, I drank my coffee quickly. It was time to leave before she took it a step further, which I knew she would. “Well, there’s another jar in the pantry if you need more,” I said, walking over to the sink. I turned on the water and rinsed out my cup. “Help yourself.”

She came up behind me and slid her hands around my waist. “What if I said I wanted your pickle,” she whispered, running her fingers along my zipper.

I stiffened up. “Enough,” I muttered, grabbing both of her hands. I turned around and stared down at her. “You’ve got to stop doing this shit.”

“You’re hard, Trevor,” she said, giving me that old ‘come-f**k-me’ stare. “You know, if you’d like, I’ll take care of it. And, don’t worry,” she smiled wickedly. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“I’m not going there with you. Besides, it’s just a reflex,” I said, releasing her hands. I moved around her. “Now, go and get some f*****g clothes on.”

“Trevor, wait,” she said, as I headed toward the kitchen door.

Frustrated, I turned around. “What?”

“Are you still seeing her?”

“Her name is Adriana, and yes, I am. I told you before, Brandy, she’s my Old Lady now.”

She put her hands on her waist. “Then where has she been?” she said, her voice cracking. “I mean, she sure as hell took off when she found out that I was pregnant. Most women would have stayed with their man, even in that circumstance.”

“She’s confused. It’s not every day that I ask a woman to marry me and then thirty minutes later, have her find out that I might be a father to someone else’s kid.”

“You asked her to marry you?” she croaked, her eyes filling with tears.

I nodded.

“You never asked me. I was your Old Lady for two years and not once did you ask me to marry you.”

“How do you know that I wasn’t going to?” I snapped, remembering a time when I’d been looking at rings. It was around Valentine’s Day the year before, and I’d come so close to buying her an engagement ring. But, Slammer had called my cell, ordering me back to the clubhouse. Looks he’d saved me that time, too.

She started to cry. “I’m so sorry, Trevor. Maybe if I’d have known...”

I grunted. “What? You wouldn’t have ended up in another man’s bed?”

Brandy started in with the familiar apologies and excuses but I cut her off. “I don’t want to hear any of this from you,” I said, glaring at her. The f**k if she was going to turn this around and try to make me feel guilty. Me? “For one, you knew how important you were to me. I patched you. I made you my f*****g Old Lady. Would I have married you? Eventually. But, that ship has sailed and we’re at the point of no return. The only reason you’re living in my house is so that if that kid is mine, I know it has a roof over its head. As far as me and you? Get that s**t out of your mind because I’m in love with Adriana, now.”

“Really?” she scoffed “You love her? You barely even know her.”

“What the hell does that matter?” I replied. “You and I were together for two years, Brandy, and I didn’t f*****g know you, either.”

“But –”

“Save your excuses,” I said, leaving the kitchen. “I’m not interested.”

“Trevor!” she hollered, following me.

I turned on my heel and glared down at her. Hearing my birth name coming out of her lips was now even making me mad. “From now on, call me Raptor.”

The pained look in her eyes almost made me take it back, but then I remembered what had brought us to that point.

“You’re a heartless asshole,” she said bitterly.

“I’m heartless?” I grinned coldly. “It’s funny how the wheels have turned, isn’t it? Look, do us both a favor – you stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours. Oh, and one more thing...”

Glaring back at me, she raised her chin. “What?”

“Stop walking around this place half-naked. I’m not interested in talking to you or f*****g you.”

Brandy turned around and stomped into the guestroom. She slammed the door and the entire house shook.

Chapter Three

AN HOUR LATER, I pulled up to the clubhouse in my Laramie. When Tank noticed me, he opened the gate. I waved and parked my truck next to his older model Silverado.

“I need a new truck,” he said, nodding in approval as I locked the door to mine. “You pay that thing off yet?”

“Two more years.”

“What are you waiting for, brother? Pay that s**t off now,” he lectured. “You’ve got the cash. I know you do. All of that remodeling you did for Brick and his cousin and then those side jobs you’ve been doing for the old man.”

He was right. I’d made a shitload of cash but I knew what I was doing. “It’s an interest-free loan. I’d rather keep the money and earn my own interest.”

He smirked. “You’re such a frugal shopper.”

I shrugged. “It pays to know what you’re doing, Tank,” I said, running a hand through my hair. It was still partly wet and the cold November climate wasn’t helping. “I do my research before dropping cash down for any large purchase. You should, too.”

He entered the code to get into the building. “I have no patience for the internet or researching ‘deals’, like you do. That’s why I’m dragging your ass with me when I pick out my next truck. Maybe when I get a new bike, too.”

“You are replacing yours already? It’s only a couple of years old.”

“No, just adding to the collection. Got my eye on the V-Rod.”

“Sweet. I was looking at them myself. Hey, Cheeks,” I said, acknowledging her wave. She was sitting at the bar with another female.

“Hey, sexy,” said Tank, heading straight for them. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Layla,” she said. “My niece. She’s only seventeen, so don’t even think about hitting on her, Tank.”

The teenager, a pretty girl with long, dark hair and brown eyes, blushed and looked away quickly.

“Whatcha bringing her in here for then?” he asked, frowning. “This isn’t a place for kids. You of all people should know that.”

Cheeks was one of the club whores and proud of it. She specialized in blow jobs and even I had to admit, she could bring a guy to his knees in less than sixty seconds. She opened up her purse and grabbed a pack of cigarettes. “Nothing wild is going on here right now, Tank. Anyway, I brought her in to talk to Slammer.”

“Oh yeah?” he said, walking around the bar to the cooler. “About what?”

Cheeks lit the end of her cigarette and took a drag. “Tell him, Layla.”

The girl cleared her throat. “I, um, I saw Misty with one of the Devil’s Rangers last Sunday.”

“Misty?” he said, pulling out a bottle of beer. “The bartender at Griffin’s?”

The girl nodded.

“You want one?” asked Tank, nodding to the bottle.

“No, I’m good,” I replied, sitting down next to Layla. “Where did you see them?”

“Layla works at a restaurant, about an hour north of here. In Stacy,” stated Cheeks. “Jerry’s Diner.”

“You a waitress there?” asked Tank, watching the girl closely.

She nodded. “Yeah, but I didn’t serve them. I recognized her, though.”

“I had Misty over a couple of times,” said Cheeks. “Card games, you know? Anyway, one time Layla was over and Misty was giving her advice on guys. She was pretty drunk that night. That’s probably why she didn’t recognize Layla at the diner.”

Tank looked at me and then back at Layla. “You sure she was with one of them?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “I saw the patches.”

“Would you recognize the man if you saw him again?” I asked.

She nodded and then said, “I know his name. His road name.”

Tank’s eyebrows shot up. “You do? What is it?”

“Mud. The other server said she overheard Misty call him that a couple of times,” replied Layla, biting the side of her lip. “He’s their president, isn’t he?”

Tank and I looked at each other.

“What the f**k? She has no business with Mud,” he said, tapping both of his thumbs against the bar.

“That’s what I thought,” said Cheeks with a sneer. “Sounds like she’s up to no good, if you ask me.”

“Where’s Slammer?” asked Tank, standing up straighter. “He needs to hear this shit.”

“Slammer is in back, on the phone,” she answered. “He knows we’re here to talk about something important. Said he’d be out soon.”

“Good,” replied Tank.

“Speaking of, I heard you’re already planning his bachelor party,” I said to him.

Tank nodded. “Yeah. It’s in the works. They’re eloping in three weeks. December 13th.”

“Where they getting hitched?”

“Either Vegas or Hawaii. She wants Hawaii.”

“He’s never been there, has he?” I asked.

“Hawaii? Just once. After he graduated from high school, his Uncle Shepherd took him out there. As a graduation present. He’s been wanting to go back ever since I can remember.”

“That was shortly before he joined the Marines and served in Desert Storm, wasn’t it?” I asked, remembering the story now.

“Yep. I’m pretty sure they’re heading to Maui. He’s been looking at vacation packages online.”

“You tagging along?” I asked.

“f**k yeah,” he answered, smiling. “You’re going, too.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Me? I wish I could. I’ve too much s**t going on at the moment. It’s not a good time.”

“That’s why you need to go Hawaii. Leave your troubles behind for a while. Think cocktails, bikinis, sand, and all of us. You’ll regret it if you don’t fly down there and stay for at least a few days.”

I rubbed my chin. “You’re right. I should go. I could even take Adriana.”

“Or, you could leave her behind,” said Tank. “Clear your head of all women for a while.”

“Hawaii, huh? I want to go,” pouted Cheeks. “I’ve always wanted to see the volcanos and eat at one of those luaus.”

“Sorry, Cheeks,” said Tank. “But you don’t bring sand to the beach.” He turned back to me. “And that’s why you should leave yours at home, too. The women out there are supposed to be f**k-tastic.”

I smirked. “Fucktastic, huh?”

“Exactly. I’m planning on getting laid the first chance I get, and I’m not talking about those flowers they put around your neck. I’m gonna find me one of those exotic, tight –”

“Okay, we get it,” said Cheeks, cutting in.

Layla giggled and Tank gave her a sheepish smile. “Men are all f*****g pigs. The sooner you learn the better off you are, Apple Pie.”

“Apple Pie?” said Layla, her face turning pink. “I like that.”

“There you go, I just found you a nickname,” he said, winking. “And if anyone touches you inappropriately in this club, you tell me and I’ll beat their ass.”

She giggled again. “Okay.”

Just then, Slammer walked out of his office and approached us, a grave look on his face.

“What’s up?” asked Tank. “You look pissed off.”

“I’ll tell you about it later,” he said, turning to Cheeks. “You said you had something to tell me?”

Nodding, she introduced her niece and then explained what Layla had seen at the diner. When she got to the part about Misty and Mud, a vein in Slammer’s forehead began to pulsate.

“That f*****g cunt,” he growled, slamming his fist on the bar, making both of the girls jump. “I should have known. I should have f*****g known.”