by Jess Winters
REBEL BIKER
MC Protective Alpha Romance
Jess Winters
She’s torn by the lifestyle, he’s torn the minute she shows up...
My dad never spoke about his past.
They were the reason why.
The Red Valley Motorcycle Club was his life.
That was before he met my mom.
So, when I go to deliver his last wish, I meet him.
He’s not what I expected from a biker.
Sexy and alluring - with an edge that leaves me restless.
A broken past that he’s never told until now.
I’ve never met anyone like him.
I learn about him during my time with Red Valley.
I’m also learning about my father.
That is, until my father’s last wish leads to danger.
He has to choose.
Between his brotherhood.
And me.
Which will he choose?
Contents
Prologue
1. Scarlett
2. Scarlett
3. Tanner
4. Scarlett
5. Scarlett
6. Tanner
7. Scarlett
8. Scarlett
9. Tanner
10. Scarlett
11. Scarlett
12. Scarlett
13. Scarlett
14. Tanner
15. Tanner
Epilogue
Copyright © 2020 by Jess Winters
All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited, and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Prologue
A silence had enveloped Scarlett and her mother since they’d started visiting him in the hospice. The sound of the monitor beeping was the only sign that there was still life left in his body. The man’s eyes were always closed, and his breathing was so shallow that his chest barely lifted at all.
It was only a matter of time until he slipped away from the world forever.
Scarlett raised her eyes to meet her mother’s. It was obvious that her mother had been crying for days. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was swollen.
Her mother’s lips were quivering as she grabbed her husband’s limp hand. She looked at Scarlett. “There’s something I need to ask you to do.”
An empty feeling entered Scarlett’s stomach as she looked at her parents entwined hands. Thinking of her mother’s being alone, caused her heart to feel heavy, as though there were stones forming inside her. The tone of her mother’s voice was telling. Whatever her mother was about to ask of her was important.
“In your father’s office you’ll find an envelope,” she said, her voice cracking between words. “It’ll be in the top drawer of his desk. You need to deliver that envelope to Nebraska, after he passes away.”
“Why do I have to go to Nebraska?”
“It’s where they are.”
Scarlett held her breath at the tone of her mother’s voice. She couldn't be serious. She couldn’t possible mean them?
Growing up, her father had always been a secretive man. His past had been shrouded in mystery. In those small moments when he did mention his past, he’d always spoke about them.
As a child, she’d imagined her father’s stories to be nothing more than fairytales or figments of his imagination. It wasn’t until she was older that she knew they were all real. He’d led a life of danger before settling down with her mother.
“What’s in the envelope anyway? It seems as if it’s important. Is it money?”
Her mother wiped away her fresh tears and sniffed. “It’s nothing, really, just a set of keys. They need to be returned to them though, and I’m just too exhausted to do it myself.”
Scarlett looked at her father’s aged, withered face. He’d become a shell of the man she’d known since the chemo began. He was barely recognizable as her father.
“I’ll bring them then.”
Her mother nodded lightly. “We’ll wait until he’s gone. I know that he desperately wanted to return that envelope to them.”
This didn’t surprise Scarlett at all. Before her mother had fallen pregnant, the club had been his life. It had been the distant memory that her father had cherished.
She would do it. For him.
1. Scarlett
The town was exactly how she had pictured it – quaint, with historic buildings littering its downtown core. Scarlett raised her hand to her eyes to mask them from the glaring sun. She’d fully expected to see motorcycles parked along the main road, but she saw nothing of the fabled motorcycle club.
In fact, if you’d walked into the town without knowing, you’d never have guessed that a motorcycle club had made it their home base.
The sun was sweltering as she looked towards the end of the street. Old signs covered the top of the brick buildings, like so many other Midwestern towns. There was a veterinary clinic, a hardware store, a convenience store and a salon. She could even make out the silhouette of a diner towards the end of the street, where she also spotted the only traffic light, hanging above the weathered pavement.
So, this was the place where her dad had grown up. It didn’t seem like the kind of place that held the fabled danger, she’d heard so much about. She couldn’t image brawls between bikers in the streets, as her father had described.
Scarlett sighed and pulled out her phone from her pocket. Her old red Mustang was parked right behind her and she sat back against the hood. Where the hell could they be posted?
She was nervous about asking for directions. What kind of person would even give her directions in a small town like this? They might think she was some kind of reporter or worse, an informer. It was said that the townspeople liked having the club around.
The last thing she wanted was to make a spectacle of herself before meeting them. That was not the best way to make a first impression. Small towns were pools of gossip, and there was no doubt that word would be sent to them the minute she started asking around. Her father had told her that much.
Scarlett bit her lip and swiped through the information on the town she had on her phone. She’d read a few reports that the club was near the end of town, but that wasn’t enough to go on. They could’ve made anywhere their hangout.
She tapped her mother’s name into her contacts and lifted her phone to her ear. She could hear the ringing, and waited patiently for her answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mom,” she said, trying to sound positive, despite not really wanting to be there. “I’m wondering where this place is. Did Dad ever tell you?”
Even the mention of her father was enough to make her mother sniffle on the other end. “Umm...I think he mentioned something about a garage in town. If you want to find anyone, that’d be your best place to start.”
Scarlett sighed. “Do you remember the name?”
“I think it might start with a K. I’m not too sure.”
“Is that all you can remember?”
Her mother cleared her throat on the other end. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but that’s all that comes to mind. Just ask around about a garage.”
“Okay. Thanks, Mom.”
“Sorry I can’t help more. Be sure to let me know how things go after you get there. I’m worried about you being so far away from home and in that place.”
“I know Mom,” she said, and smiled. “Bye. Love you.”
Her mother hung up promptly, returning Scarlett to the quiet downtown street. Just casually ask someone about a garage in town as if it wasn’t obvious?
Her mother made it sound easy.
Scarlett turned around and opened the door to her Mustang. The best, and probably only, choice she had was to go to a nearby gas station and ask for help with her car. It might come off as a bit sketchy, but her Mustang was not exactly the newest vehicle on the road and had about two hundred thousand miles on the clock.
That could work.
Scarlett started her car with a roar of the engine and rolled down the windows. The leather was hot against her skin as she pulled out onto the street. Time to find some bikers.
2. Scarlett
Scarlett had assumed that they’d have made their hangout accessible for their customers. It was supposed to be a garage, but it seemed that if you had any car issues in that small town, you were shit out of luck. Even getting your vehicle towed would cost a small fortune, since the garage was so far out of town.
Scarlett had pulled off to the side of the road and into the parking lot when she saw the sign – Karl’s Garage. At least her mother had the first initial right. So, this was the only garage in town - owned and operated by none other than the Red Valley Motorcycle Club.
Scarlett had never thought that she’d one day step foot into her father's past, but nothing could be done about it. It was up to her to return whatever he’d stored away in that envelope. It was easy enough to determine they were keys, but what did they belong to?
Scarlett stopped next to a vintage oil pump, which had long since rusted, outside of the building. The garage itself was a cement square that reminded her more of a storage container than a garage. The only tell-tale sign that it was a place, where mechanics worked, were the open doors at the front.
She placed her phone into her purse and stepped out of the Mustang, being sure to slam the door behind her.
She wanted them to know she was there.
She heard footsteps as she made her way towards the open doors. There were motorcycles along the sides of the garage, interspersed between the cars they were currently working on. The sound of metal hitting metal caused her to jump as she approached.
“Hi there,” said a deep voice behind her, as she heard metal scraping. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Scarlett turned around, jingling her keys in her hand. Was this one of the Red Valley members? “Hi. My name’s Scarlett.”
He was smoldering. Bright-blue eyes, black tank top that barely covered anything and the kind of rugged look that would make any girl swoon. This wasn’t the kind of person she’d expected to welcome her.
“Having some trouble with that Mustang of yours?”
He took a step closer and threw a dirty rag over his shoulder. In this heat, it was easy for fabric to stick to his body. She could make out each groove of his stomach as he neared her.
Scarlett had been expecting someone older, with a beard, a kerchief on his head, and dressed completely in leather. This guy, whoever he was, could pass for a model. If her dad had told her that some of the men looked like that, she’d have jumped at the opportunity to deliver the keys.
“This isn’t about my Mustang. I want to know whom I can talk to. My Dad’s name was Henry Walford and he was a member of this place when he was younger.”
He narrowed his eyes and scratched at the dark stubble along his strong jaw. “You’re Henry Walford’s daughter? Like, the Henry Walford?”
“Is there a problem with that?”
He gave her a crooked smile and let his eyes examine her body from her feet upwards, as though she was some kind of delicacy. “I’ve heard of your father, that’s all. Is he coming up, or does he have some kind of message for us?”
Scarlett pursed her lips and pushed her dark-brown hair behind her shoulder. “I’m delivering something. It was his last wish.”
A soft expression appeared on his face. “I’m real sorry to hear that,” he said, and exhaled. “I’ve been told all kinds of great things about your dad, and I can tell you, he’ll be sorely missed.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that,” she told him, and glanced around the garage. From what she could tell, they were the only two people in the building. “Is there anyone I can talk to who knew my dad?”
“Must be pretty important if you travelled all the way here. I can bring you to see Brighty.”
Scarlett raised her eyebrows. “Brighty?”
He gave a short laugh. Scarlett couldn’t help but watch as his muscular stomach contracted with each movement. “We all have nicknames around here.”
“And what’s yours?”
“Oh. I haven’t earned one yet. You can just call me Tanner.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said, trying to keep her eyes upward. “Where can I find Brighty?”
Tanner turned towards a stairway at the end of the garage. “Hey! Brighty!”
Scarlett rolled her eyes. She shouldn’t have expected anything less. God forbid he just text him or go upstairs with her.
She heard footsteps above her and, from somewhere, a door creaked open. Whoever it was, he sounded as if he was hefty. The floor sounded as though it was going to break beneath his weight.
“Yeah?” replied a brisk, older voice. He sounded as though he’d smoked a pack of cigarettes every day since he’d been born.
Tanner gestured to Scarlett and grinned, as though he was pleased with his find. “Got someone here you’ll want to meet!”
The sound of a voice grumbling filled the garage. His footsteps were heavy, and echoed in the immense space. She glanced over and saw a thick, older man with a long, wild beard and a leather jacket on, despite the hot weather.
Now he was the kind of man she’d pictured meeting.
“Can I help you?” The older man asked, glancing around, and clearly trying to assess the situation.
“I’m Henry Walford’s daughter. I’m here to drop something off on his behalf.”
The man glanced at Tanner as though searching for some answers. “Why didn’t he bring it himself?”
Scarlett could feel a knot in her throat. She hated having to tell so many people in such a short amount of time. “He passed away.”
“Well, shit,” the man said softly, his expression deepening. “Old Skinner passed away, huh? That’s a right shame.”
“That’s why I have to deliver something on his behalf. He wanted to return it to you guys.”
Brighty’s expression shifted again. “I think I know what you’re talking about. Why don’t you come upstairs with me?”
Scarlett nodded. “Thanks.”
“Thanks, Tanner. Mind the garage for me.”
Scarlett turned her attention back to Tanner, whose blue eyes were fixed on her. She hadn’t even noticed he was staring. She tried to control her embarrassment as she turned away.
“Sure thing, boss. Nice to meet you, Scarlett.”
She gave him a small smile and followed Brighty. She could still feel his gaze on her as she walked away, causing butterflies to form in her stomach. She hadn’t expected to run into someone like him, at all.
3. Tanner
It was as though he’d been hit in the stomach with a bat. So – that was old man Skinner’s daughter. He’d heard that when Skinner left the club behind, back in the early nineties, he’d done so to protect her from their wild days. The club had been a different place then, and there had been situations with territories. Other biker groups hadn’t been so keen on Red Valley taking up their space.
He was right to hide her away.
Tanner could barely take his eyes off her as she left the garage with Brighty. He was taking her upstairs, where he’d probably crack a beer in her old man's good name. Tanner desperately wanted to join them, just so he could keep looking at her. It was rare to see a woman that beautiful come through town.
The sound of a loud, vintage motorcycle got his attention and he watched as Sid drove up to the garage. The biker took his time rounding the Mustang, while getting a good look at it.
No doubt about it. It was barely restored and in amazing shape. M
ust’ve belonged to Skinner, before ending up with his daughter.
Sid slowed down and brought the bike to a stop in front of the garage doors. He gave a Tanner a quick nod as he jumped off the bike and took off his helmet.
“Who’s the Mustang?”
“You won’t believe who it belongs to.”
Sid had the kind of face that reminded people of creased leather, probably from his years on the road. “C'mon. Don’t keep an old man waiting.”
“Skinner’s daughter is in town. It belongs to her.”
Sid could barely contain his surprise. “You’re shittin’ me.”
“No, but it comes with some sad news,” Tanner told him, his voice growing lower. “Apparently Skinner passed away.”
“Goddamn. That is some sad news.”
The two men were silent. Tanner pulled at his black wife-beater, which felt as though it was glued to his skin. Hours of work in the garage on a hot day always left him feeling greasy.
“Did she say how it happened?”
Tanner should his head. “No. She’s upstairs with Brighty right now. Something about a delivery from Skinner.”
From what Tanner knew of the history of Red Valley, the club was started by Skinner’s dad and Brighty’s uncle, way back when they first started drag racing their bikes. Both men went way back. Even Sid had been around since the seventies.
“I’ll wait for them to come down, then. You want a brew? I sure as hell need one.”
“Sure, if you’re grabbing. I’m just going to check this exhaust one more time, and then I’ll join you on the couch. We can both wait for them.”
“What’s she like?”
“Who? Skinner’s daughter?”
“Who do you think?”
Tanner bit his lip. “Gorgeous.”
Sid gave him a sideways glance as he passed. “Don’t go meddling with women you shouldn’t.”
“C’mon,” Tanner said, lifting his arms slightly. “Not like me to do something like that.”