HowToLoseABiker

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HowToLoseABiker Page 1

by Unknown




  How to Lose a Biker in Ten Days

  Alina Valentine

  Copyright © 2015 by Alina Valentine. All rights reserved.

  Acknowledgments

  A special thanks to Neville Smith, Gretchen Hodges, Tiffany Shearer, and Ashley Caldwell for Beta reading for me!

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter-Twenty-Five

  Chapter-Twenty-Six

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Doing hair and makeup for strippers has some serious drawbacks. Mainly, it's just dealing with one bitchy stripper and a psychotic boss. Then there are the times her own makeup turns out like a stripper's. That may seem like no big deal, until you realize you look like a hooker. Fine, the only real problem at Club Climax is the neurotic Ashley. She loves to start scuffles for petty stuff. Most of her coworkers have at one time felt her wrath. They probably have a support group for all the strippers who have been slapped by Ashley. Sadie mostly ignores her. Though, with her attitude, it's sometimes impossible.

  Like today, she came in earlier in one of her moods and now is on a huge rampage throwing stuff around. Does having the biggest implants in all of Dallas give her the right to be such a bitch?

  “You stupid bitch! I said white glitter! Not black!” she screams.

  Okay, so maybe Sadie did shower her with black glitter, and now she looks ready to go trick-or-treating, but a person can only take so much verbal abuse before they have to do something!

  She should be thankful; Sadie had contained herself from drawing a black mustache with waterproof liner. Given this little tantrum, she might as well have drawn the mustache and snapped a picture to share with Sydney.

  “You fucking poured it on me!” she growls and advances angrily on Sadie.

  “It matches… your eyelashes,” she says lamely.

  Ashley lets a scream of frustration and rushes Sadie with a fierce expression on her face, which looks really ridiculous since she is wearing a bunny costume. Sadie has never gotten the whole 'bunnies are sexy' idea.

  Sadie steps away from her path and grabbing her arm, uses her own momentum to flip her over on to her back. Add aerodynamic to the short list of Ashley's talents.

  The air gets knocked out of Ashley in a great whoosh. For once, she is silent and stunned, staring blankly up at Sadie.

  Great, the only time she stands up to Ashley and she causes brain damage.

  “Don't ever try that again, or you'll be getting a free nose job. Got it?” Sadie says calmly. Ashley nods. She stands up and rushes out the door.

  Sadie takes advantage of the blissfully empty dressing room to catch her breath and pack her makeup into her cases. Ashley had thrown around and destroyed a good part of her palettes. She throws them out but leaves the rest of the clean up to someone else.

  The black door slams open and in comes Zack, her boss.

  “Sadist, you didn't say you'd be working today!” he says.

  Zack looks pissed and honestly a little bit crazy, which for him is the norm.

  She doesn't miss his use of the stupid pet name he gave her and it still pisses her off. The asshole started calling her that after he tried to corner her in the dressing room his first day on the job. Without preamble, he'd started groping her. He was obviously confident that he wouldn't get slapped with a sexual harassment suit. Well, he did get a bloody nose.

  Zack and Sadie aren't a couple, or even friends, but she can't seem to convince him of that. Oh, he's handsome, with moss green eyes, a killer bone structure, and a sensual lower lip. But for all his good looks, Sadie wants nothing to do with him. Call her crazy, but between the multiple personalities and bipolar disorder, she has a hard time finding him attractive. Then he topped it all off by being a biker. Zack is the main reason she now sleeps with her pink 9mm under her pillow. In romance novels, a crazy obsessive biker might be considered cute. Not so much in real life.

  Six months ago, Rampage MC foreclosed Club Climax from the previous owner to settle a debt. Zack was assigned as administrator. The first thing he'd done was single Sadie out. Then, for the following months, he'd tormented, followed, and taunted her.

  Sadie had done an extensive search on stalking. Once someone fixates on you, you're screwed.

  “Zack. I am not your freaking kid! I don't have to tell you shit,” she says.

  “I've given you space and I'm fucking tired of it!” he screams right into her face.

  She almost bursts out laughing at that. He follows her around all day!

  “You will start doing what I tell you to do!” he screams.

  He really has no respect for personal space. As much as she wants to kick him for intimidating her, she doesn't. All the painful self-defense classes couldn't possibly help her against Zack. Kicking his ass would only make him come back angrier.

  “No, leave me alone. Stalking me isn't my idea of a fucking courtship!” Sadie says.

  “Leave you alone?” he asks with a laugh, “You're my property bitch, and you'd better start

  learning your place.”

  He really is nuts.

  “We aren't dating. Maybe if you weren't fucking crazy we could be friends,” she says.

  “Don't call me crazy Sadist, or I'll show you crazy,” he spits out.

  “Be reasonable Zack. Some of the girls at the club want to date you. Take one of them out and leave me alone,” she says.

  She is a horrible person, but she wants him to transfer all those crazy stalker feelings to someone else. Ashley! They are perfectly crazy enough for each other. Hell, she'd help pay for that wedding!

  “Ashley really likes you,” she offers.

  “Ashley is an easy lay, but I want you as my girlfriend,” Zack says.

  Yeah, as much as Zack adores her to death, he also fucks anyone who will stand still long enough. The man is a whore.

  “If Ashley sleeps around, she's a slut? If you sleep around, you're a stud? That is not okay.” Why is she defending Ashley?

  “Stop. I don't think you understand Sadie. You were mine the moment I saw you,” he seems annoyed.

  What? Is it her fault for not falling in line with his plans for her?

  “Calm down, Zack,” she doesn't want another fight.

  She tries to soften her glare, and it works. The crazy bastard even hugs her.

  Sighing she pulls away, “I'm going home Zack. See you tomorrow.”

  He stops Sadie by grabbing her shoulder.

  “We're going to a club party next Friday. Buy something white to wear. Maybe a dress,” he

  says.

  Groaning, she shakes her head, “I'm working Friday.”

  “I'm shutting Climax down on Friday,” he ruins her only excuse.

  Well shit. The last thing Sadie needs is to be around anymore psychotic bikers.

  “No, I'm not your girlfriend Zack,” she says it slowly and gently, but he still becomes enraged.

  The next thing she knows she's against the door, with Zack's hand around her neck. He's breathing hard and shaking.

 
; “You'll never guess what Ashley told me,” he says with a scary smile. What did that bitch say?

  “That bitch, Sydney, is your friend,” then he grins triumphantly, “and here I thought you had no one. Do you want to be responsible for Sydney's death? Or maybe we can sell her to a whorehouse...”

  Sadie keeps her face impassive. Sydney is her only friend, but she can't show any weakness. Especially to a guy like Zack.

  “She's my roommate, big freakin' deal. Now if we're done here...” she says.

  Zack Slams her back into the door and says into her face.

  “Then you won't mind if you find her raped and dead in your apartment.”

  Fuck.

  “I'm tired of your shit, Zack. You can't kill my roommate to make a point!” Sadie prays that her stupid temper doesn't get Sydney or herself killed. He releases her, and Sadie resists the urge to rub her neck.

  “That's up to you Sadist. Start showing me some respect, and when I tell you to do something, you fucking do it,” Zack warns.

  He shoves her away from the door and leaves.

  Zack is crazy enough to kill Sydney. Sadie doesn't want to kill him. It would bring his entire club down on her, but she might not have a choice. Stupid crazy biker.

  Chapter two

  Sadie gets home to the tiny two-bedroom apartment at nearly two am. It isn't in the best part of town, but the rent is cheap. She has shared the same apartment with Sydney for five years. Sadie's compulsive cleaning contrasts perfectly with Sydney's hoarder tendencies. Sydney is very ungrateful though, and bitches constantly about Sadie throwing everything out.

  She finds Sydney sprawled on the couch, watching reality TV. She barely looks up when Sadie walks in.

  “Dude, we have a problem,” Sadie says.

  Sydney doesn't even blink. Creepy. Once she starts watching reality shows, she turns into a complete Zombie.

  “Ashley?” she asks absentmindedly.

  How is she supposed to tell her only friend that her stalker is threatening to kill her?

  She starts by taking a deep breath, “Zack. He's threatening to kill you.”

  Sydney groans, “Why don't you just sleep with him already? He will move on if you do,” she says.

  “I'm not going to sleep with him,” Sadie says, annoyed.

  “Well then we have to leave,” Sydney says.

  She gets off the couch, and then walks to her room.

  Following her Sadie implores, “We can't leave yet. He has someone watching us. We run now and they will just follow us.”

  Sydney turns and flushes angrily.

  “He is threatening to kill me and you want me to brush it off?” Sydney asks.

  Well no, but they can't act without thinking. Sadie has spent five years working her butt off so she can live out her dream. She was doing great, until Zack showed up.

  “I will think of something. Right now, he just wants me to go to a party with him. I can do that,” she offers.

  “If he threatened you, would you stick around?” Sydney asks.

  Sydney takes out a bag from her closet and starts stuffing stuff into it.

  “I get that you're mad. This is my fault…,” Sadie trails off.

  Sydney doesn't answer, going through the room like a tornado. Sadie has only ever seen her friend really angry a few times, and each time it takes her a long time to come down from her bad mood.

  “Fine, you leave. I'll stay and distract them, but you can't take a lot of stuff with you. That will look suspicious and you will be followed,” she reasons.

  Sydney exhales noisily and nods, “Okay, call me when you can get away.”

  “Don't go to your family. I'm pretty sure one of Zack's friends followed me and he might follow you. I'll try to distract him by taking off, and you wait a half hour to leave,” Sadie says and leaves her friend's room.

  Once Sydney is safe, Sadie is taking off on her own. She will find a new home, one where she can have a normal life.

  The only place that is open all night is the gym, so she grabs running tights, a sports bra, and her running sneakers.

  Chapter Three

  Once at the gym, Sadie runs on the treadmill at a punishing pace. Her legs burn, and her heart wants to burst from her rib-cage. Running has always come naturally to her, and it has been an escape from her own thoughts but today it doesn't work.

  Sadie can't help but think of how different she and her best friend are. Sadie never knew who her father was. There were rumors around town, about how Sadie looked suspiciously like the mayor's two children. Some people even called her the mayor's bastard. Even if true, David Weston would never admit to messing around on his wife with a prostitute that lived in a rundown trailer.

  So, Sadie had grown up in a tiny town, where people didn't take kindly to prostitutes or their bastard children. All the disdain and hatred her mother had earned from the local women had transferred to Sadie as she grew up. She grew up alone, and for some reason she still felt safer alone.

  In complete contrast, Sydney came from a well off, loving, and supportive family. If only she trusted her family enough to confess her problem, Sydney would have unconditional support. For as much as her parents and brother cared about image, Sydney came first. Even her choice of becoming a stripper didn't estrange them. The problem is that Sydney can't stand the thought of telling her parents about her severe learning disability. She'd rather have them think she is unmotivated and flighty. Sometimes it's hard to not blame Sydney for her own problems.

  After a grueling hour of running, and another of pummeling the punching bag, Sadie feels worn out. She hits the showers before walking home.

  Half an hour later, she arrives home. Zack stands outside her building, illuminated by the street lamp. It isn't even surprising to see him there. Countless times, she has seen him standing outside, staring at her apartment.

  This time he doesn't seem as intense as usual. He looks as tired as she feels, but she still approaches him cautiously. Zack can go from zero to a hundred in a few seconds. He wordlessly grabs her bag out of her hand and goes through it.

  “Where were you? I've been waiting for over an hour.” He finds the dirty gym clothes and hands the bag back to Sadie. One day he'll make someone a jealous and paranoid husband.

  “What now, Zack?” Sadie is too tired to even be mean to him.

  “I need to crash here,” he says.

  Now she's just appalled. No matter how delusional he is, she has always been clear about her feelings towards him.

  “Why?” She manages to make the question sound as rude as possible, which does come off as bitchy.

  Zack doesn't seem offended; he just crosses his arms and leans against the brick wall.

  “Our president is a fucking asshole,” he says.

  She can't resist she laughs thinking two assholes would probably cause a short circuit or something.

  He goes on, ignoring her laughter. “He kicked me out of the compound. Asshole thinks his shit don't stink...” He trails off and then continues, “So I'm staying. I'll crash on your couch.”

  Too tired to argue, she gives in. If she wakes up to him killing her, it's her own damn fault.

  “Fine, but I'm locking my door. If you even twitch the wrong way: I'll shoot you,” she says.

  He sighs and nods.

  She lets him into the apartment and points to the couch.

  Once in the living room he starts shedding his clothes and Sadie stops at her bedroom door.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she demands.

  It's pretty obvious that he is trying to shock her. If she were a weaker woman, she would start drooling over those shoulders and that freaking eight pack. Just seeing him without a shirt makes her blush.

  “I sleep naked Sadist. Like what you see?” he asks.

  Yeah, she isn't sticking around for that show.

  Zack is about to take off his boxers before she rushes into her room and slams the door behind her.

  “Goodnight,”
he says after her.

  Chapter Four

  Sadie drops the envelope with raunchy pictures on her boss's desk. The pictures aren't for Mathew, he isn't a pervert, they are for his client Candy. Mathew is a divorce lawyer and the pictures are to use against Candy's husband. Earlier today, Sadie hunted Jeff Rhodes down at his country club and managed to get him into a compromising position with very little effort. This job is ridiculously easy.

  She takes a seat across from Mathew.

  “Sadie, I just don't get why you want to quit,” Mathew says.

  To a man accustomed to getting his way, it is inconceivable that Sadie can't be persuaded to keep working for him.

  Mathew a handsome man in his thirties has wavy brown hair and soulful brown eyes. His great taste in suits only adds to his lady-killer looks.

  “Have you thought about the raise to your rate we talked about last time?” He asks. She remains silent. They have been over this before. Sadie is not about to be swayed. Getting the message he looks over the pictures, “You went straight for the kill.”

  The pictures show her in a white, barely there bikini, straddling Jeff while he practically devours her mouth. Gross. She pops another breath mint at the reminder. She'd left him with only that kiss and a promise of dinner next Friday. Luckily, she wouldn't have to see him again.

  “Candy will be very happy with these,” he says after pursuing all the pictures.

  Candy, at only twenty-two, had three divorces under her belt. Some people are so driven.

  “Does she have a preferred costumer card with you?” Sadie asks.

  Mathew represented her in the three previous divorces.

  He shrugs, “Candy could be busy paying student loans right now, instead she's set for life with the settlements she's fleeced from those poor bastards.”

  Despite his impending doom or at least doom of his bank account, Sadie can't muster up any pity for Jeff. The man left his wife with two young children and only half of her sizable inheritance. An inheritance he spent on his secretary, turned mistress, turned wife. Guys like Jeff kept divorce lawyers and hit men in business. Sadie had wanted to be a hit man, or hit woman, but she regretfully stood out like a sore thumb. Successful hit men had to keep a low profile.

 

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