Handsome Bikers and Secret Babies Romance

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All trademarks and brands within this book are for clarifying purposes only and are the owned by the owners themselves, not affiliated with this document. Roy A Biker Secret Baby Romance By Amelia Wood Chapter One: Roy “Thanks for your help, man. Let me know if you hear anything, yeah?” Shaking Devon’s hand firmly, I cracked a grateful smirk as the heavily bearded man nodded firmly. Seriousness dragged down his expression, and he squeezed my palm as his well-trimmed beard ruffled when he grimaced. “No problem at all. I hope you catch that piece of s**t, Roy.” Nodding a firm jerk of my head, I glanced up at the billiards room-s***h-restaurant one last time before making my way down the sidewalk. Glaring at my sneakers as I stalked the sidewalk towards the parking lot, a deep frown dragged down the corners of my mouth. Devon and my conversation rang inside my skull, and I swiped my hand through my hair with a rough sigh. Hate crimes riled people up all over the country, but that didn’t necessarily mean those people were useful in helping me find the racist son of a b***h. Reaching into my jean pocket, I pulled out my cell phone to check my text messages. I hadn’t wanted to interrupt my talk with Devon when the device chimed, and my frown only morphed into a sneer at the block of text that greeted me. Kelsey: I’ve contacted a few other places that are hotspots. Here’s the list. And by ‘list’, my sister meant unorganized, cut-off copy/paste that was hard to read. Rolling my eyes, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and fished out my bike keys just as the lot came into sight around the corner. My beautiful, ruby red motorcycle shimmered under the bright sun of mid-day, and I reached to swipe my jaw roughly as I let it distract me. Black pin-striping broke up the deep, rich color I’d painted the vehicle, and chrome glowed as it reflected the rays that beat down. Climbing easily onto my bike with an expert swing of my leg, I settled into the seat and jammed the key into the ignition only to pause. My thoughts whirred as I stared at the design on the gas tank, and a heavy, ragged sign burst from my throat. This was the part of the job that I f*****g hated- running around like a chicken with its head cut off after some douchebag that decided to be an i***t. This guy isn’t an i***t, though. He’s a f*****g skinhead Neo-Nazi that shot a Jewish woman in a grocery store to impress his gang of douchebags. Deep-seeded hatred roiled in my gut and tightened my abdomen, and I ground my teeth together harshly. Gripping the handlebars of my bike, I jacked the starter, and the engine revving was almost enough to drown out the red fog that descended on my mind. Pulling out of the lot slowly, I shook my head wildly before turning onto the main bar strip to cruise leisurely. Crowds of people flocked to the sidewalks on their lunch breaks, all dressed sharply and creating a hum that was noticeably buzzing underneath the sound of my bike. Weaving between cars, I kept my eye out even though I didn’t expect to see the person I’d come all this way for. After all, he’d only been on the run for a day- things were still hot, and he was still riding adrenaline and fear. I knew these types of guys; he was a follower, indulging in fantastical, extremist views because of some kind of trauma in his childhood. Racist extremism wasn’t a publicized problem, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a problem. And Neo-Nazis were a breed all their own, infesting America like rats because politicians reacted instead of growing some f*****g balls. The KKK wasn’t any better even though they were a different kind of f****d up. A soft, high-pitched horn tune snapped me out of my thoughts, and I stiffened as a sports bike zipped past me on the left side. Narrowing on the slim, clearly female figure that glanced back at me from under her vizor, my gaze scanned her form even as she held out her arm to gesture me to follow. Revving my engine, I pursed my lips together while my mind ignored the wind rushing along my leather jacket to consider why she’d come after me. I didn’t recognize her sleek, baby blue bike, but that didn’t necessarily matter. Since last night, I’d gone to more than a few biker bars looking for information about the skinhead I was tracking down. They all talked to each other about s**t like this, so it wasn’t all that surprising that she found me and not the other way around. Leading me down a side street towards a little restaurant with a patio jutting from the second floor, my faceless, nameless guide slowed to a stop at the end of a line of a dozen or so bikes. The shadows of the high-rises around us shaded the leather, blocking the sun from its ultimate goal to reach the concrete. Pulling up next to her, I braced my feet on either side of my and cut the engine as she worked her helmet off. A massive, thick braid of deep blue hair tumbled out first, and I c****d my head as she freed her face and crown. Pale cheeks and pointed ears gave her an ethereal kind of look about her, but the delicate features only served to intensify the fierceness of her gaze. c*****g a brow at her in silent question, I leaned back in my saddle as her motorcycle’s engine died before she turned to me fully. “You’re looking for that guy that shot that Jewish lady in Marshal, right?” Even her voice was soft, like her looks and her personality were completely opposite, and she cast me an expectant glance. “Yeah, that’s me. You got any information?” Hoisting herself off her bike, the woman unzipped her jacket to reveal a tight, navy blue blouse, and amusement tickled the back of her throat. I guess it’s her favorite color… and she doesn’t look too bad with blue hair. “No, but I figured I’d introduce you to Jared. You’d get here eventually.” Flashing me a wide smile that puffed out her cheeks, she stuck out her gloved hand, and I reached to take it automatically. “I’m Cat. Word went around last night that you were looking for some help. So, you’re like a real- really real- life bounty hunter, right?” Cat’s hand was so small I could curl my pointer and middle finger around my thumb, and my gaze trailed up her arm to really see how tiny she was. I had at least a foot on her- in height and width- but she didn’t seem at all intimidated by that fact. She was like a pixie- the little ones with wings… like Tinker Bell. It’s kinda sexy. “Yeah, I am.” Keeping my answer short, I couldn’t help but smirk at the glint of wonder in Cat’s eye as her palm left mine, and I steadied my bike to climb off it in one, smooth motion. “So, lead the way.” She’s got a nice ass, too. I couldn’t help but stare on our way the short distance down the sidewalk, enticed by the sway of her hips and skin-tight jeans Cat wore. As if sensing my none-too-subtle gaze, she twisted with her hand on the large, brass handle to toss me a flirty smile. “I work out, you know.” My eyelid twitched in agitation at her tease even while she winked animatedly at me, but the atmosphere didn’t last when she pushed open the restaurant door. The barrier didn’t squeak in the softest, and I had to duck some to get through the threshold. Bright, white light filled the space crowded with people, and I shirked off my jacket while Cat sauntered towards the bar lining the back wall. Hardwood and ceramic tile coated the floor, but the place was absent of chairs and tables. In their stead, nice couches and lounges scattered around, giving the place a relaxed air that eased the fire Cat had sparked in my gut. “Roy- Jared. Jared- Roy.” Jared was probably the oldest biker I’d ever met, but his sagging, wrinkled skin rippled with the confidence of someone that could beat my ass. Bushy, salt-and-pepper eyebrows drew harshly together as he scanned me critically, but the nerves tightening my chest were more about the funny faces Cat was making from behind him in my peripheral vision. “Thank you for seeing me, sir.” Holding my hand out for the 20th handshake of the day, I resisted the urge to clear my throat of the laughter clawing at the base of my tongue. Cat puffed out her cheeks and crossed her eyes, and I covered my mouth with my free hand to hide my mirth with a harsh cough. “I’m just looking for information.” “Well, hopefully we can help.” Rough from age, Jared’s voice rang with authority, and I nodded in agreement. Glancing at Cat, I couldn’t help but smirk at the innocence that transformed her expression as Jared turned to her. “Winona is here for you, Cathleen.” My pupils narrowed into fine points as Cat’s expression filled with red-hot rage within a fraction of a second. Her sudden, drastic change rippled down her slight body, slender shoulders thrown back and the soft lines of her face hardening. Without sparing me a glance, she turned on her heeled boot and stormed towards the stairs and climbed up the far wall, and I watched her go under deeply furrowed brows. “Jay!-“ Stealing my attention as Cat disappeared to the second floor, Jared called over a man about my age, and I pursed my lips tightly to beat back the curiosity that raged through my chest. “This is my son, Jared. Let’s go talk in the back.” Chapter Two: Cathleen Glaring down into the depths of a glass once filled with ice and Sprite, I swirled the tumbler between fingers stiff with disgust and irritation. The dimensions of the glass caused reflections to appear, drifting in and out of the melted ice and few drops of Sprite that were left over. “Are you gunna drink that or just try to boil it?” Leaning on the bar to my right casually, Roy didn’t wait for an answer as his deep baritone rolled down my spine. Snatching the glass with speed that belayed the thick muscles wrapping around his bones, he lifted the rim to his lips to gulp down what little liquid was left. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I held my breath behind thinned lips as he glanced into the short tumbler from beneath raised brows. “I didn’t take you for the kind of girl to drown her sorrows in soda.”