Hard Rider (A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance)

by Wild, Nikki

  Another hit like that, or WORSE…

  His hands came down around my throat, and he put his weight into closing my windpipe. I held panic back as he grinned toothily, snarling with anger as he choked the life from my body.

  I tried pushing back on his face, even grabbing his own throat, but his meaty arms were positioned so that I couldn’t reach it.

  Everything started going dark…

  Until my hand brushed the metal plate.

  I brought it up against the side of his head, slamming the thin bit against his temple. It hurt my hand to strike him so hard, but Mark released his grip and clattered to the ground beside me.

  While he tried to stagger to his feet, I clamored hazily to my own, taking a few deep breaths, and jumped on his rising form from behind.

  My arms didn’t have anything on his, but they still wrapped around his neck just as good. With my forearm held to his throat, I slowly choked him out as he stumbled around, trying to pull me free.

  His meaty arms couldn’t bend far enough to reach me. He could barely get a decent grab at my clothes, and I’d always shake free while clinging to his back.

  Mark finally got to his feet, groaning and sputtering away, and slammed my back against the metal wall. I shuddered with the pain as I almost lost my grip, but held on tight.

  He did it again, weaker this time, although I still almost lost my latch around his throat.

  His head started to roll, and I knew I had him. That was until he pushed over backwards…

  I barely moved my head out of the way before it was crushed against the concrete floor. I still banged it hard enough to see stars, and I completely lost my grip.

  Dammit, I groaned.

  He’s won.

  There’s no way I can fight him now…

  But Mark didn’t move, his lumbering form keeping me pinned beneath him. But now, he was facing upwards, his back holding me down to the ground, arms spread wide.

  It took a moment to realize this, and a little longer to figure out that I couldn’t easily move him off of me.

  His crushing pressure was crushing my chest, and I could barely breath beneath him. Even out cold, he’s gonna choke me out…

  I barely got my palms in place beneath him. Throwing everything I could into it, I managed to slightly shift him over a couple of inches. Delicious air quickly filled my lungs, and I gasped with desperate victory.

  After a brief moment of pushing and shimmying, I was finally able to slowly pull myself free from Mark’s heavy, oafish body.

  The fucker was already starting to move again, letting a groan escape from his lips as I kicked him hard upside the head a few times. That seemed to put him out again, but I was still locked in this damn room. More importantly, he still had the keys on him… A moment of searching his pockets, and I found my prize. Fumbling in the dark, I found the right key, unlocking my way to victory.

  I closed the door behind myself and moved to lock it when I heard activity. Quickly darting behind a nearby crate, I waited for a biker to stumble past, the smell of fresh liquor on his breath.

  He stopped on the other side of the door, holding himself up against the wall. When it was obvious that he wasn’t moving, I glanced around the other side of the crate, finally getting an idea of where I was.

  The dim lights along the ceiling revealed that I was in a hallway of some abandoned building, by the looks of it.

  We hadn’t moved far from New Orleans. My sense of direction told me the van had taken the road west out of the city.

  That meant that I was in Kenner, or maybe Metairie. The sound of a passenger airliner filtered through the thin metal ceiling as I took a moment to catch my breath and take stock of my surroundings. Kenner was where they put the international airport for the city.

  We had to be close to it.

  With this drunken asshole nearby, I decided to keep my head back in the game. If I was gonna break out, I’d need to be sharp…

  I knew I wasn’t far from the exit. They’d gone whole hog and slipped a black bag over my head for the entire little ride here, but we hadn’t walked far once we arrived. A couple doors, maybe one big room, and I’d be out.

  Realizing I couldn’t get close enough to lock Mark in, I gave up on that line of thinking and snuck away past a few more crates. It was my hope to slink out of the hallway and see what was what…

  But when I made it to a doorway, I realized that this wasn’t going to be easy.

  A quick glimpse of the large room took mystery out of the equation – we were in some kind of abandoned train station. I could see the tracks stretching into the room, with huge shutters down on the other side. Crates, supplies, and forgotten mounds of junk scattered all over.

  But that was secondary to the men.

  If what Mark had told me about his gang was true, then the entire Bayou Boys motorcycle club was here. At least a dozen men were scattered around, excluding the sick guy back in the hallway and Mark himself.

  And then I saw their boss.

  Mark had told me about Gridlock, bragging about this shit like he usually did. Flanked by a man on either side, he was a shorter, older bastard with thin, light hair, a heavy leather jacket with dangling chains, and a cigar jammed in his mouth.

  I didn’t know much about him besides his looks, how “great” he apparently was, and the fact that he was stupid enough to take Mark and the Crew into his ranks.

  So, he couldn’t be all that smart.

  But something told me that being caught slinking around on my way out the door wouldn’t work out too well for me…

  When backs were turned, I slipped around behind a few nearby boxes quietly. As silently as possible, I lifted a misplaced crowbar from atop a box. At least I had a weapon now, although I had no chance of making a break for it.

  I had to think this through – I couldn’t even see the exit yet, although I suspected that it was on the other side of the scattered men, over near the front.

  I heard a small scrape nearby, just as I was deciding on a plan of action…

  That’s when everything went black.

  Grizz

  The old tricks weren’t going to work here, and I knew that when I started planning my rescue mission. I’d been blind to the truth, stupidly following old habits.

  When I took emotion out of the equation, I remembered the way to get in, get out, and get away was to put my quick thinking and special skills to use. Hunter didn’t call on me to handle delicate matters for nothing.

  My usual trick was diplomacy, but I already knew better than to even bother with that card. So, I played another one.

  A military extraction.

  Cold. Clean. Efficient.

  Superior firepower and surprise might work for Hunter and the rest of us when we had to mobilize against one of the real bad guys, but I needed to play things smart if I was going to fly solo.

  Riding out to the meeting spot with a plan, I came prepared to knock skulls on my terms.

  Given the age of the building, it was easy enough to find what I was looking for. With a pocket flashlight gripped between my teeth, I threw open the panel box, yanked fuses, and disabled the power.

  The entire building quickly went dark.

  And that’s all that I needed…

  I could already hear the commotion as I walked confidently around to the front, pulling the night vision monocle down over my eye. A dim green view of my surroundings poured in as I checked the bandana stretched tightly over my face. It wasn’t much protection, but it would have to do.

  Thank you, John… I thought to myself. I’d owe that man a beer when this was all over.

  Everyone inside sounded like they were panicking. I took advantage of the chaos by letting myself in right through the front, slamming the door shut behind me.

  Hand against my vest, I ducked to the side before their instincts kicked in. I unpinned my secret weapon, ready for action.

  Rattled and armed, they fired a few shots at the door, hitting
only weak metal walls.

  All that did was give cover to the sound of my movements.

  My night vision gave me a clear view of the bikers.

  Not a drop of blood spilled.

  Not a single corpse was going to hit the floor.

  Nobody had to die today.

  A smile faintly crossed my lips as lifted my secret weapon. I pulled the red ring free and pulled the trigger, a thick blast of spray pouring forth into the confined space.

  “What the fuck,” someone shouted before firing off another handful of rounds in my general direction. “I can’t breathe! I can’t fucking breathe!”

  Now the whole place was in chaos. Screaming and shouts and gagging coughs filled the air as everyone scrambled toward the walls looking for an exit. John wasn’t kidding around about this shit. My own lungs were burning almost as soon as I’d pulled the trigger. I couldn’t even imagine the hell I’d just unleashed on someone hit in the face with this shit. One biker was rolling around clawing at himself trying to wipe it off while vomiting on the floor.

  But they’d live.

  I was just eager to find my woman and get the hell out of dodge.

  This was the way to go. No letting my bloodlust for revenge get the best of me. None of this typical Devil’s Dragons, both guns blazing bullshit.

  It also meant that there was no need to try and fight my way past the cops on my way out of town…

  Treading lightly, I slipped into the lobby corridor. A couple of bikers in the distance were panicking, so I kept a wide berth, slipped past them and firing off another blast of pepper spray in my wake before I continued on.

  There was no telling where they were keeping Kate, but I wagered that I had some time before the air in here cleared up enough to give chase.

  But I realized soon enough that they weren’t about to get their shit together. The panic rolling through the building wasn’t going away anytime soon. These idiots were yammering away in a blind frenzy, and it saved my ass on a few of my louder footsteps.

  The train station was small. It was only five or ten minutes before I’d surveyed the area, noting where the train tracks and obstacles were while gassing out another couple of bikers in the locker rooms and barring the door with the leg of a metal chair.

  As I swept the building, I found what looked to be a couple of drug labs in the back of the station. Things were in disarray, and none of these morons looked smart enough to pass ninth-grade chemistry. I almost felt bad for anyone who came to these assholes for their filthy fix.

  I rounded back and found the man in charge. He was a stocky fucker with a rifle, clutching onto it like it gave him some kind of authority.

  The lights were off and I was here.

  I had the motherfucking authority.

  “Shut the fuck up, you idiots! He’s in here somewhere!”

  The man who I assumed to be the Bayou Boys biker president was barking orders in the dark, but none of his men were listening. He was a little smarter than the rest of them, but it didn’t help him now.

  When I lifted the canister of bear spray to fire a stream in his direction, I swear that he turned and looked me right in the eyes.

  Aw, shit.

  Instinctively, I dodged before he fired a few shots in my general direction. He tried to hear where I was going, but the idiots around him were still covering my tracks with their panicking.

  He tried to back away from the fog of pepper spray, but he was already positioned in a corner…

  That gave me the opening to hit him again, a long stream exhausting the can as I filled the room with a noxious cloud. In his confusion, he fired a few more shot, grazing one of his boys in the shoulder.

  “Jesus! Fuck!”

  The Bayou Boy slumped to the wall, clutching his shoulder and cursing up a goddamn storm.

  The president tried to stagger forward, gagging and coughing with his leather sleeve covering his face, but I took the chance and slipped forward.

  One solid punch to the side of the head later, and the asshole dropped into the mist and didn’t get back up.

  After a few minutes of scouring the building, I came across a room in the back where my old pal Mudflap was out cold on the floor. A quick glance brought a half-empty dish and a bundle of blankets in the corner to my attention.

  It was pretty clear to me what had happened here, and I couldn’t have been prouder. I left the fucker to his nap as I tried to trace Kate’s footsteps. I found her behind some crates, a crowbar in her hands. Defiant to the goddamn end, I grinned.

  Unfortunately, she was already coughing and trying to breathe through what was left of her tattered shirt. I came up up on her from the side and firmly grabbed the crowbar from above her hands. Surprised and defensive, she tried to rip it free, but I used my spare hand to cover her mouth.

  Kate tried to bite my fingers, but when I remained persistent without making any more threatening moves, she paused.

  I slowly relinquished my grip on both.

  Her voice came as a whisper.

  “Grizz?”

  I placed a finger against her lips.

  I gave her some help, pushed the crowbar back into her palm, and took her free hand. Almost all of the Bayou Boys were already cleared out of the building, but I knew that there were still a few around. I just needed to get us out the back door.

  With pissed off bikers still shouting and cussing up a storm in our wake, I led us out through an old rusted exit and into the warm, humid night. With the moonlight to guide us, I led her along the warehouses and back to the bike.

  “I knew you’d come,” she finally said as we reached the motorcycle.

  Time was slipping away. The Bayou Boys were probably gathering out in front of the station trying to catch their breath, and it wouldn’t take them long to realize I might have gone out the back.

  They were going to be pissed.

  “You know, I had things under control,” she observed, climbing behind me onto my bike. “I don’t really do the damsel in distress thing. It’s not my style.”

  “And I suppose you were going to take them all out with that crowbar?” I chuckled, turning the ignition.

  “Grizz, you of all people should know I’m damn good with a hard rod in my hands.”

  I pulled the kickstand up.

  “When we get where we’re going, I’m fucking the shit out of you, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Kate said, her arms wrapping around me.

  I revved the engine and pulled us onto the main road.

  Mudflap

  Let me tell you: waking up to pitch-black darkness while gagging on a cloud of pepper spray ain’t a good way to come back.

  At first, I stumbled through the darkness toward the angry voices of my club outside before remembering the flashlight on my cellphone. Lighting my path forward, I knew the truth.

  The bitch up and went with that fucking nomad…

  Before I could continue my walk through this cloud of choking shit, something caught my ear.

  The distant rumble of a Harley.

  That fucker…

  It’s gotta be that biker prick…

  Ooh, how the blood boiled in my veins!

  I turned, following the sound down the hall and past some old crates, finally bursting out into the back alley while gasping for breath. I was just in time to watch the two of them roll of into the darkness on his bike.

  Fuck!

  I bolted around the side of the building. If I could get to my bike I could give chase and sneak up on the asshole on the open road… I made my way across the street to the closest warehouse as fast as I could manage with my lungs burning and eyes stinging. As I came across the parking lot where we parked all our bikes, I quickly realized they weren’t going to be doing me any good. The fucker must have known we’d come after him. Every last bike was sitting on rims, the tires slashed through and destroyed.

  I glanced around for an alternative, quickly s
potting Tread’s old beater car nearby.

  Fucker might be expecting a bike…

  I ran over to it and shattered the driver window with the butt of my gun before popping the lock and jumping inside. It had been awhile since I hotwired a car, but I knew I wouldn’t need to. Tread wasn’t much for brains, and he sure as shit kept a spare set of keys on the car. I flipped down the visor and came up empty, then threw open the glove compartment. I’d hit paydirt, pulling the keys and a small taser from the glove.

  Tread, you’re too good to me. Sorry I have to take your ride, but you’ll understand.

  I fired the shitbox up and noticed the tank was full. I had plenty of gas for what I needed to do. I knew where they were heading, too. Grizz would take my little bitch west, and there’s only one road headed out that way.

  I tossed the taser into the cup holder and pulled out of the garage to chase my woman down.

  Think you’re so smart, huh? Punk ass biker. Got another thing coming, buddy…

  Didn’t matter how smart he was.

  I wasn’t about to let him take her back to those bastards. She was being a little hard, but I knew that my girl would see the way things really were soon enough.

  I pushed the accelerator to the floor, roaring down after them. It wasn’t long before I was on the interstate, flicking the little piece of shit cage from lane to lane to catch up. They had a couple of minutes on me, but chances were that they weren’t stopping off anywhere anytime soon…

  There.

  I spotted them two cars ahead, shifting lanes. Now that I knew where they were, I could hang tight and let them think they’d gotten away for good…

  It gave me all the time in the world to think about how I was going to make him beg for his fucking life.

  I’d put that asshole on his knees.

  He’d cry like a little sissy bitch.

  I’d be the bigger man, of course. With my pistol against the back of his head, I’d make it a quick one if he told me to my face that I was the better man.

  If he apologized a dozen times over, I’d give it to him nice and clean. Two bullets in the back of the skull would drop that stubborn ass-wipe to the ground.