The Biker's Chameleon

Hey. I'm Rebecca. You probably don't know me, but that's okay. Basically no one knows me in this town, so I'm not offended that you don't either. To give you a little idea of who I am let me tell you about myself. I'm 20 years old, I have brown hair almost to my waist, my eyes are more gray than blue, and I work as a waitress. Yup, I know what you're thinking... that's it? Yes, that is it. However, if you stick around you will get to know the rest of me... the me who hates being ignored but also hates the spotlight, the me who can't stand when people are idiots, but will also rarely confront their stupidity... Basically I'm an overly opinionated chameleon. "Rebecca, I need ketchup at table 6!" I snap out of my thoughts and back into reality. I grab a ketchup bottle from the cooler and carry it over to table 6 quietly. No one glances at me but I don't care, I just walk up to the table and set the ketchup down and take the empty bottle without a word. Before I can leave to refill the empty bottle a hand catches my wrist. "Well, sugar, are you going to refill my coffee or not?" It takes all my effort not to yank my wrist free as I force a smile and look at the guy. The very muscular, very handsome guy wearing a leather jacket... a leather jacket with the local MC patches on it. Frick. "I'll be right back with the pot of coffee." I respond as calmly as I can as I subtly try to read the patch on his upper arm. I really want to know what position he holds, maybe he is just one of the lower guys who can't do anything without someone else's permission. I try tugging my wrist free from his grip but he doesn't let go. it doesn't hurt, but I can't exactly get him coffee if I'm stuck at the table. I meet his eyes and am immediately lost in just how brown they are. Most people have brown eyes, but his are almost the color of melted chocolate with little gold flecks in them. They are completely captivating. "What's a pretty girl like you doing working at Al's bar?" Disgusting. I almost shiver as his deep voice asks me that one question I try to avoid answering at all costs. "It's also a grill."Thus it being called a Bar & GRILL. This guy is an i***t. He grins at me and tugs me a bit closer. My free hand catches the table so I don't fall onto him. Jerk. "You don't have a name tag... what's your name?" Like I'd ever tell a biker."Sir, I can't get you coffee unless you let go of me." "Tell me your name, sugar." Over my dead body."Let go of me." Needless to say this is not how I wanted my day to go, but I do notice it says VP on the patch he is wearing. Vice President... he's the second in command of the MC... Frick! The last thing I need is to be on their radar. _____________________________________________________ Taz _____________________________________________________ I know my goal is supposed to be getting under Al's skin, and I really hate using women to do it, but the guy is a tyrant when it comes to underpaying his staff. So when this gorgeous, exhausted looking girl came to my table to replace the ketchup I felt more angry at Al than ever. The girl looks no older than 18, with long healthy brown hair, and these piercing blue-gray eyes... Get your head in the game, Taz. I scold myself mentally as I keep a gentle grip on the girl's wrist. "Well, Sugar, I've decided I don't want coffee anymore. Where is Al?" "Why do you want Al?" Her soft voice makes me want to lock her away from everything dangerous in the world. She has this innocent vibe about her that makes me feel feral in comparison. However, I can tell by the way her eyes keep glance at the patch on the sleeve of my jacket that she knows who I am... or at least what my position in the MC means. "Al has been... not holding up his end of a deal." I lie, hating every second of it, but not wanting her to be put in danger if I tell her the truth... that Al is in far more illegal activities than just overworking and underpaying his employees at the bar and grill.Her eyes are like nothing I've ever seen before... Taz, focus! Jeez... "Can you let go of me already? I literally can't do my job if I'm tethered to the table." She is getting mad. Good. I keep my grip on her wrist gentle as I tug her closer to me and stand up so I am towering over her. At 6 foot 2 I'm not extraordinarily tall, but I make up for it in muscle. The girl however can't be taller than 5 foot 2, or 5 foot 3. She is the perfect height for me... Jeez, Focus, i***t. I scold myself mentally again. "Sir, what are you...? Sit down, please." She is starting to sound nervous, which is honestly expected. I loop my arm gently around her waist, then I lead her towards Al's office. Get in. Get out. Take the girl with you for her own good. I plan in my head. I'm honestly starting to wonder if I'm losing my mind over this girl or if I've just lost my touch. I open Al's office door without knocking and lead her in and shut the door behind us. Al is sitting in his chair looking like an evil, fat version of Mr. Crabs from that kid's show some of the kids at the club like to watch. "What the hel... hello, Taz! Good to see you!" Al barely recovered that. Good. He should be nervous I'm showing up here. "I have some business to discuss with you. Particularly how you haven't been honouring the contract." "Contract? Wh... What contract, Taz?" I feel the girl shift uncomfortably against my arm. I hook my finger into the belt loop of her jeans. Just so she doesn't do something stupid and get hurt. I tell myself mentally as I stay perfectly still. "How old is this girl, Al?" The girl tenses immediately. Dang, she really doesn't like being talked about. Al, however, has no problem putting the attention on her as he grins and leans back in his chair. "Ah... you're interested in Rebecca. She's..."He pauses and pulls out a files that literally holds only one piece of paper in it,"20. She is 20, single, and just a waitress here." I grind my teeth at the way he states all of this as if reading facts about a horse. Fool. The contract states no females under 21 in facilities that serve alcohol. "20? hmm... I thought she was younger. good to know."I tug her closer to my side and I can feel how tense she is. If she were a fighter I bet she would have punched me by now. Good thing she's a quiet one."Al, expect to be closed by the end of the week." I walk out of there pulling the girl... Rebecca. He called her Rebecca... along with me to my bike. But when I gesture for her to get on I feel a sharp sting in my cheek. She slapped me..?