by Ryan Michele
“Timeline. When’s it going to be done?” My tone is sharp. I’m seriously frustrated with this man.
“Give me a week to get it all switched over.”
“If it’s not done by then, I’m finding someone who can do it.”
“I understand.”
He better understand. Sinister Sons is huge in this town, and he knows who owns this place. One word, and that will be it.
I like handling everything on my own, though. It’s an independence thing. I don’t have it in my life as much as I want, but this I can control.
When clapping comes from the corner, I narrow my eyes. That is, until I see the smirk on Cooper’s face. Then I turn and put the damn mop bucket away, needing to get out of here and breathe. For some reason, he has a power to suck the oxygen out of me.
Coming out of the room, Cooper and his guys are pulling clothes out of the dryers and a washer, then beginning to fold. I can’t help looking. I mean, come on, my eyes just travel there on instinct.
His black briefs are sexy as all hell. I need a cold shower.
“Sorry again for the trouble,” I say on a wave.
Some words are returned as I exit quickly, getting the hell out of Dodge.
“Don’t be pissed at me.” Whenever anyone starts a conversation off with those words, you know you’re going to be pissed at the end. It’s a red flag with a bull running toward it. It’s a lit match about to be thrown into a fire pit doused in gasoline.
“What am I going to be pissed about?”
Leah just walked in the door. Her navy shirt is cut short, exposing her midriff, and her shorts are tight, but she’s covered. One thing I love about her is she’s not over the top. Some of the women at the rally dress in bikinis or fishnet with only a small piece of tape covering their nipples. I wouldn’t want to get caught for indecent exposure or anything. My big hiccup is some men take the lack of clothes as a welcoming invitation, which no man should do.
Me, I’m super simple. Jean shorts that totally cover my ass, coming down an inch or two. They’re not loose, but I don’t have a damn camel toe or any of that crap. I went with my favorite Demon’s Wings tank with a sports bra underneath it. It is Florida, after all. And if I’m going to be dancing, I need air. Tossing on my flip flops, I’m ready to go.
“Your makeup is pretty,” she says to me as we exit the house and I lock it up.
I shrug. “I just went for a little bit of a smoky eye. Tell me what I’m pissed about?” We move to my Dodge Challenger SRT, get in, and I turn her over, making her purr like a kitten in heat. If Leah thinks she’s going to detour me, she’s sadly mistaken.
“A guy I met on that site is going to meet me there.”
The urge to slam on my brakes hits me hard, along with slapping her upside her damn head. “You’re just shitting me, right?” I try with a small bit of hope, knowing in my gut it’s worthless. I’m pissed.
“No, his name is Nick, and he’s really nice. We’ve been chatting on the dating site, and he said he’s coming to the rally this weekend. I told him I’d text him and we could meet up.”
If my grip got any tighter on the steering wheel, my strength would snap the damn thing off Hulk style.
“Is he with a club?” There have been a couple of times in my life where our family was at dinner and another club showed up wanting to talk to my father. The situation got heated when my father refused, and my brothers rose from their seats. No, my family wouldn’t like it if this guy were in another club, but why else would he be at a bike rally.
She clicks her tongue, in thought. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask him.”
“Leah, that should have been the first question. Hello, he’s coming to a rally. Yes, we have non-clubbers here, but what if …?” I let my words trail off.
What if what? I know what my father and brothers do isn’t legal, but I don’t know any details, which keeps me clean. What if this guy is an enemy or something? One of the ones that my brothers are always keeping me safe from? Maybe I’m just being a stick in the mud and need to live a little, but uneasiness prickles my skin.
“Relax. If it doesn’t work out, we go dance. It gives me an out.”
“You’re nuts,” I tell her.
“You love me.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Finding a place to park is a pain in the ass, and after hiking the mile up the hill, we finally make it to the rally.
Music from three stages blares as men and women run around, beers and cocktails in their hands. A huge sign hangs above the road, welcoming all bikers. The atmosphere is electric and pulsing with an energy you only get when coming to a testosterone-filled place like this.
Venders line up their tents with barely clothed women trying to push the latest power drink or tire brand. If you wanted to take the time to visit them all, it would take an entire day. Each one yells out at us, trying to grab our attention, but we keep on moving. No prize they have is on my list of must haves in the world.
A burly man with leather chaps stops in front of me. He’s handsome in his rode-hard biker way. His beard is long, and he has a red, white, and blue bandana over his forehead with a long braid going down his back.
“How you ladies doin’?” he asks in a smooth tenor.
Another man steps around and puts his hand on bandana man’s shoulder. This guy makes me want to take a step backward. He’s mean-looking, hair cut to his scalp, and tattoos covering scars. He screams danger and has a don’t-mess-with-me vibe I’m pretty sure I could feel from another planet.
“Mearna, brother,” he says in a low voice.
“I’m talkin’.”
“Yeah, and you fuckin’ told me to say somethin’ when you get like this. I’m sayin’ it and steppin’ back.” The scary man does just that, hands raised as he takes a few steps backward.
Bandana man rubs his hand over his face. “Fuckin’ hell. My ol’ lady’ll cut my dick off. As you were, ladies,” he grumbles, moving out of our path.
We move quickly.
“What the hell was that?” Leah asks as we make our way toward one of the stages. I’m hoping this is the one for Demon’s Wings.
“Just a big man seeing two chicks and hittin’ on them. Not a big deal,” I tell her, because it’s not. She should be used to it after last year and getting hit on.
“I wouldn’t want to be the woman who’s gonna cut off that guy’s dick. And did you see that other man? I think he could have broken us like twigs. They remind me a lot of your dad and his crew.”
“Crew?” I question with a laugh. “That’s one way to see it.”
“Drinks!” she yells out, making her way to one of the many stands. Behind them are women in bikinis with little bits of tape or fabric covering their lady bits. Tip jars sit out on the bar. These women are going to make bank judging from the hungry gazes around them. The ones who dance and put on a show will do even better. They catch the attention of the men and women, so it’s double the money.
We order drinks then head toward the stage, seeing a large sign that says “Demon’s Wings at seven p.m.”
“They’re here!” I may have given a little excited jump, but come on, this is why I came, just to see them. Well, to see Shane, that is. The other guys are hot, don’t get me wrong, but Shane, the lead singer … hot damn.
Leah looks at her phone. “I got a text. I need to meet him over at the beer tent.”
Okay, that’s vague. “Which beer tent? There’s, like, ten of them.”
“The one near the tire burn out.”
At Point, a band I’ve never heard of, comes on and begins playing. I really want to dance, but you never leave your friend alone. Going with her is a must.
“Alright, but I’m not going to be hanging around you two if you’re going to be all over each other.” I may have that code, but I will drag her away before any of that shit happens. Even as beautiful as she is, she’s meek on the guy side, with only a few ex-boyfriends. She may have other thoughts on it, but we
shall see.
Making our way through the horde, I’m telling pretty much every single person I come in contact with sorry for bumping into them. The burn out is a hot place, and the bodies are deep on the ground level. The only way to see anything is if you go up into the bleachers, which have tons of open areas.
I pull Leah’s arm, motioning for her to follow me up the metal risers. She does, her eyes all over the place, looking for this Nick guy. This is a bad idea. I feel it in my gut, and the prickles are coming back to my skin.
Leah hunches down over her phone, typing away as we take a seat where we have room around us. Me, I’m watching the surroundings and smelling the distinct aroma of burnt rubber. Cheers from the onlookers are loud as a bike gets ready to burn out. Usually, they lock their front tire, then rev the engine in an attempt to burn the tire off the back of the bike. They even have tire companies here that give them free tires for doing it.
I cover my ears as the noise grows from the bike and the crowd. The air fills with smoke as the cheers get even louder. More hollers, pats on the back, and money exchanging hands after the announcer states the rider’s time.
Scanning the crowd, I don’t spot my father, brothers, or anyone from Sinisters. Regardless, it’s only a matter of time. They got back from their run yesterday, and we chatted a bit. I was surprised they never asked me about coming today. They left without a word, and so did I.
Looking down the way, my eyes connect with striking blue ones. The same ones I saw two days ago at the laundromat. Cooper.
He lifts a plastic cup to his lips, and I’m mesmerized by how they hold on to the rim as he drinks. His hair is disheveled, free and sexy as hell. He wears his black cut with a large group of men around him. A small smirk plays on his sexy lips, warming me from the inside out.
“There he is!” Leah says excitedly, hitting my arm.
I lose my contact with Cooper to turn and see who I’m assuming is Nick climbing up the bleachers, followed by two more men.
I lean into Leah. “If this is a set Bristyl up thing, I’m going to kill you.”
“Go with it. They don’t look bad.”
Internally, I scoff. They sure as shit don’t look like Cooper and his guys one bit. The first one has an intense stare, solely focused on my best friend. There’s something behind those eyes that I don’t like one little bit. He has on jeans, a white T-shirt, and a cut, but I can’t see who he belongs to as I scan the patches.
One of the guys behind him has broad shoulders, a long, dark beard, and short, brown hair. His face is one that I’ve seen a million times. Nothing unique or different. The other guy, though, he is different. Blond hair that looks like it could use a wash and a scruff of beard. He is very tall, but built, if the definition of his arms says anything.
“Leah, you’re more beautiful than the picture,” Nick says smoothly. I want to rip his hand off as he touches her face seductively.
Leah gets all giddy from the attention, and I immediately recant my last thought, wanting to slap her over the damn head instead.
“Hi.” Her girlish tone makes me wonder where my best friend went. What the hell? A guy comes along and she’s suddenly a teenager with a crush? Seriously?
“These are my boys, Poe and Len.” He motions to them then looks at me. “And you are?”
I still don’t like the twinkle in his eye one little bit. I’ve been around too much in my life not to notice those small tells. My father taught me well. He may have shielded me from most of this life, but one can’t live in it and not see or hear things.
“This is Bristyl,” Leah happily tells them as the scary one, Poe, comes to sit by me, and way too closely, considering there is plenty of space for his ass to move down.
I study their cuts. Unlike Sinister Sons, they don’t have a patch on the front telling what club they are from, only their names with a number. This is even more unsettling.
Oh, no, this shit isn’t happening. My night is not going to be ruined because of these stupid assholes.
Poe puts his hand on my thigh like he has every right to, and I sit there, stunned for a brief moment. This man will not touch me, but if I do what I’m about to do, it could cause problems for Sinister.
I glance over to where Cooper is, his eyes now turned away from me. Great, he probably thinks I’m with this guy. What the hell do I care, anyway?
“Get your hands off me,” I growl low as the asshole squeezes my thigh hard, causing a jolt of pain to slice through my leg.
My brain goes into survival mode, pulling up the things I learned over the years. I rip the guy’s hand away, and he pinches me as he leaves my leg. Then I stand up quickly and move down a riser. Unfortunately, it doesn’t give me a whole hell of a lot of distance.
“Come on, Leah, let’s go,” I tell my best friend, whose eyes are round in surprise. “Now,” I bark.
She gets up, and Nick grabs her arm, pulling her back down to the seat. She struggles to get loose.
“Let me go,” she cries as I reach up to grab her. As I do, Poe wraps his arm around my waist, and I pop him good in the shin with my foot. I feel it, too, only having flip flops on, but it’s enough for him to loosen his hold on me to squirm away.
Nick stands. “Bitch, don’t you know who we are?” He grips Leah’s arm hard, and tears spring to her eyes. She hasn’t grown up in this life, has only been my friend. This is going to get so much worse before it gets better if I don’t get us out of this mess.
“I don’t have a clue who you are. Now let go of her, and we’ll go our way,” I try to reason. Nick isn’t having it.
“No, you’re makin’ a scene, so you’re gonna come with us nicely so we don’t get shit from anyone around us. Then I’ll show you exactly who we are.”
Fuck that.
“If I have to scream from the fucking rooftops, you better believe I will. We aren’t going anywhere with you.” I meet him head-on. Yeah, he will hurt me, but I’m not backing down, and there’s no way in hell we are going anywhere with these men.
My heart hammers in my chest, but I force myself to keep cool. Not doing so will only make things even worse, as if they aren’t bad enough already. Fuck me. Once we get out of this, I’m kicking Leah’s ass.
8
Cooper
The laundromat girl is here. Or, more to the point, the woman. Damn, she’s hotter than the damn devil, all wrapped up in sin. She has more clothes on than half the women here, yet looks a thousand times sexier. If anything, it’s making me wonder what lies beneath the fabric.
Intrigue. That’s exactly what it is.
Three assholes go up the risers, and her eyes turn from mine. In my gut, I want those eyes to look back.
The cuts on the backs of the men say Red Devils MC. We’ve had ties with them before, but nothing that warrants any concern.
Surveying the situation closer, the chick next to Bristyl knows the one guy, but from the body language Bristyl has no clue who any of these men are. It looks innocent enough, and it’s not like she’s mine, so why should I give a fuck?
Turning back to my brothers, we chat about stupid shit and drink. My eyes keep flickering back to Bristyl, though, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Oh … laundromat woman is here,” Ryker says with a hint of humor. “Think she’ll wanna see me again?”
Not sure why, but my blood boils. “No,” is all I say.
“Oh, man, Coop, don’t be doin’ that shit.”
“I’m not doin’ a damn thing.”
Just then, Bristyl jumps to her feet and down a bench. She grabs for her friend, but the asshole next to her pulls her back down. From here, I can see tears in her friend’s eyes. This shit isn’t my business, but I’m making it.
“Come,” I tell Ryker, who taps Green and Jacks.
“Where you goin’, boy?” my dad calls out.
I just point to Bristyl and keep moving through the crowd. I feel my brothers at my back, just like they always are.
Bristyl is ar
guing with the guys from the way her hands are moving, along with her head. I can only see the back of it, but it reminds me of my mom when she’s giving shit to my dad.
I climb the risers and get right behind Bristyl. “There a problem here?”
Bristyl turns abruptly, breaths coming in surprised pants. I don’t take my eyes from the guys in front of me, though, no matter how much I’d rather look at her.
“Cooper,” she whispers so softly I don’t think she meant to say it out loud, and damn, it’s so sensuous that my cock hardens.
“These are our bitches. Go find your own.” The asshole has his hand wrapped around Bristyl’s friend so tightly his knuckles are white. He rises, taking her with him, and she screeches, trying to pull her arm from his grasp as he begins to pull her away from Bristyl.
Bristyl moves so damn fast I can’t even catch her. One second she’s in front of me. The next, she’s between the asshole and her friend, full-on biting the guy’s arm.
“Holy fuck,” Green says from behind me.
The asshole pulls back, letting go of the friend and lifting his other hand, ready to strike Bristyl across the face. It’s my turn to be quick.
Grabbing Bristyl, I maneuver her behind me and slug the guy in the gut, then in the jaw. He staggers back. I hear my brothers behind me, no doubt taking on the other two.
“What’s going on?” my father asks, coming up and grabbing the punk by the collar.
“Assholes are putting their hands on women who don’t want to be touched,” I tell him.
“Let’s move this away from prying eyes.”
The crowd is all in for a fight, amped up on the energy, feeding off our conflict. Fuck, this could turn seriously bad. Nothing worse than a rally full of bikers who turn all out for blood. Too many dead bodies and way too many fucking questions.
“Bristyl, you and your friend follow us.”
She nods, wrapping her arm around her friend as we lug the three assholes down the bleachers and out the back way. We get quite a few stares, so Dagger jokes with some of the onlookers, putting them at ease. Never met a man who could simmer shit down like that man. I tried to pick up that skill, but haven’t quite mastered it yet.