by Rye Hart
“Terrance, I have to go,” I said, scrambling to get my things together.
I hung up the phone and rushed toward the door, but Terrance was right on my tail.
“But the meeting with Mr. Brownstein,” he said. “This is an important meeting, Malcolm.”
“Yeah, but my fiancée is in labor with our babies right now,” I said. “So, it looks like you'll be handling it for me.”
“You know your father would stay, right?” he said. “He'd see this through.”
Yeah, I knew that. I knew it all too well. He'd stayed to take a meeting and had missed some of the more important parts of my life. I’d determined long ago that when it came to my own children, I would never let business take precedence over them. “I'm not my father, Terrance,” I said. “I love this company and I'll work my ass off for it, but my family will always come first. Always. So, if you'll excuse me--”
I stepped out of the conference room and rushed out of the building. I had to get to Casey. She was the all that mattered to me. Her and the babies.
Our babies.
~ooo000ooo~
“You're going to have your hands full, Malcolm,” Dad said, beaming proudly.
He was now confined to a wheelchair. His legs no longer worked, but his mind was still mostly intact. Thankfully. Over the last few months, he'd gotten a bit gentler. Kinder even. It was as if he knew his time was drawing to an end and he wanted to make amends for his past behavior.
“I only wish I could watch them grow up,” he said.
Casey held Ava, my oldest daughter by a mere two minutes, while I had Violet. I handed Violet over to my father, and the light in his eyes in that moment was something I hadn't seen in years. Not since I was a little boy myself.
It was my mom, however, that seemed to be the most ecstatic. Casey let her hold Ava, and the baby melted in my mother's arms. She buried her face into the soft skin of the child, inhaling her scent, a look of absolute rapture upon her face.
I had to wonder if my dad didn't make the request for babies for her, and not just for him. I started to wonder because he looked as pleased watching my mother hold her granddaughter as he did holding Violet himself.
“Knock, knock,” a voice came from the doorway.
Casey's mother, sister and brother were standing there, wide smiles on all of their faces. Sierra ran over to Casey and screeched happily.
“I'm an auntie!”
“Yes, you are,” Casey said from the confines of her hospital bed.
She squeezed her sister's hand, and they shared a smile and a few words in Spanish that I couldn't make out. Eventually, I'd learn. Alba was teaching me, so my daughters could grow up bilingual. Casey had thought it important and I did as well.
“Maria, good to see you again,” I said, hugging my future mother-in-law.
“You too, Malcolm,” she said.
Casey and I had helped them a lot over the last few months. Her mother no longer had to stay with her father, which had been hard on them all at first, but it was ultimately for the best. Some people are beyond saving.
Her mother, however, was doing well in a house we'd bought for her in Long Beach, where she'd wanted to live. It was a little bit removed from Los Angeles, but still close enough that her kids could stay in touch with friends.
Nick hung back, seemingly intimidated by the madness inside the hospital room. Probably also because of all the fuss the girls making over the babies. He stood there, with his hands in his pockets as if he'd somehow gotten lost and ended up in the maternity ward by mistake.
“So, ready for your first day next week?” I asked him.
His first summer job. He'd turned fifteen, the same age I was when I started learning the business. Of course, I wasn't about to make him give up everything like my dad had required of me. A child needs to be a child and experience all those things that make a childhood happy.
No, he was just working a summer job. Just something that allowed him to build up some experience and learn about himself. It was the least I could do for the kid, who would soon be my brother.
“Can't wait,” he said. “My first summer job, and I don't have to flip burgers. My friends are jealous.”
Yeah, everything was going well. I couldn't complain. I stood back with Nick and watched my large, extended family mingle and socialize, with a wide smile on my face. A few months ago, I wouldn't have dreamed my life would have turned out anything like I was seeing and experiencing. As I looked at everybody milling around the room though, as I saw my beautiful wife-to-be and our amazing children, I realized that this was the perfect road for me to be on. My life had turned out to be absolutely perfect.
Casey caught me staring and looked over at me, cocking her head to the side with an inquisitive look on her face. Nick laughed and nudged me in the ribs with his elbow.
“Looks like duty calls,” I said, pushing myself back off the wall and walked over to Casey.
I took her hand in mine and leaned down, kissing her forehead. She turned her head and kissed me on the lips.
“You meant it when you said you'd take care of me,” she whispered. “But I never imagined it would be like this.”
“Me neither,” I said. “But, I wouldn't have it any other way, Casey. I was just over there thinking about how absolutely perfect life was and how deliriously happy I am.”
“I love you,” she said.
“Did you ever think you'd say those words to some asshole from the bar?” I laughed.
“You were never an asshole,” she said. “Which was why I liked you from the start.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “From the start?” I laughed. “That's a bit of revisionist history, because I seem to remember – ”
“Hush, you,” she said, playfully batting me in the chest. “You know what I meant. You were never like your friend, Greg.”
“Ex-friend,” I said.
Greg and I hadn't talked since that night. No reason to. Our lives had gone in opposite directions. Truth be told, they'd been going in opposite directions for a long time before the night I punched him, but I'd held on to him as my friend because he was familiar. Comfortable.
But, things had changed drastically, and I had no desire to be an immature frat boy my entire life. Especially, now that I had a family of my own to take care of.
As I looked at Casey, I smiled again. She had the most profound effect on me.
“I love you, Casey.”
She smiled wide. “And I love you, Malcolm Crane.”
I never knew life could be as good as it was turning out to be. Casey reached out and gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
“Our best days are still to come,” she said.
I nodded. “They are,” I said. “And I'm looking forward to spending all of the rest of those best days of my life with you.”
The End
RYE HART SNEAK PEEKS
5 BIKERS FOR VALENTINES
PROLOGUE
Breakfast with the Grove brothers was already getting interesting. By now, all five were watching my every move.
My eyes were fixated on Nick, who was starved for something other than eggs and bacon and I had a feeling I’d soon find out what that was. The midnight blue tint of his eyes darkened even further with lust, and caused a spark to set off in my toes.
He scanned my body as Tyler got up from the table, leaving his coffee behind and stalking toward me.
My gaze followed him as he stood up in front of me, stepping in between my legs as he cupped my blushing cheek.
I nuzzled into his hand, and the air in the room changed on a dime. I heard Nick get up and pad over to me, taking my coffee mug from my hands. I tilted my lips into Tyler’s hand and pressed a kiss to his palm, and then I felt Nick’s hands come down on my shoulders.
Tyler swiped his hand over the kitchen table, scattering the remains of breakfast to the floor, before he yanked me from the chair. His hands were all over me, ripping my pajamas off my body. I felt Nick’s hands on my ass,
squeezing it as his lips attached to the back of my neck. I felt my body heating with electricity as their skin grazed mine.
I slid to my knees as I kissed down Tyler’s body. His muscles jumped for me as my hands raked down his sides. I felt every one of his chiseled muscles pulse underneath my touch as I sank to the floor. He was now dripping for me, lurching toward my mouth and begging to be between my lips. I wrapped my hands around his thighs and pulled him close to me.
I felt Tyler’s hands wrap tightly in my hair as Nick perched himself behind me.
“Hold on,” Nick said. “I want to taste you.”
I heard chairs moving and the table shifting before Nick slid underneath my thighs. His hands traveled up my body, squeezing my breasts as I moaned. I grabbed Tyler’s cock and wrapped my lips around it, causing a groan to fall from his lips.
Then, Nick pulled my pussy down onto his lips.
“Oh shit,” I said. “Holy fuck.”
Tyler’s hand guided my face along his cock as my hips rolled into Nick’s lips. I reached around and sank my nails into Tyler’s tight ass, causing him to thrust forward. I raked my nails down his thighs as Nick sucked my clit between his teeth, causing my legs to grow weak.
“I got you, Kitten” Nick said.
His arms held me up as I braced against Tyler. I could feel myself quickly approaching my end. My eyes rolled back as my throat clamped down around Tyler. I moaned and whimpered. I was trembling against them both, riding Nick’s face with no shame as I enjoyed the wave of an intoxicating orgasm rushing through my body.
“You taste so fucking good,” Nick said.
His vibrations sent me over the edge. His tongue pressed into my clit, riding me through my orgasm as Tyler pulled his cock from my mouth. I moaned into the room, crying out Nick’s name as I shook. Tyler’s hand was holding my hair, pulling my gaze up to his.
“You’ll moan my name before this is all over.”
I had a feeling he wouldn’t disappoint.
CHAPTER 1
Not tonight.
I don’t need this shit tonight.
What started out as a slow afternoon was quickly turning into a wild night at The Skull. In just five hours, I’d already yelled for the bouncers to break up three bar fights between drunken asshats fighting over purely senseless shit. I was losing my damn mind and voice.
Unlike most evenings when I work through the chaos with polished grace, tonight’s serving of ridiculous crap was working my patience in a royal way.
Thanks to the current state of my personal life I didn’t have the tolerance to deal with the bull that came with my bartending gig.
Luckily though, I knew how to use the pistol stashed below the counter.
Special announcement dicks: I’m not afraid to pull the bitch out.
A low-key evening to help me get away from all the bullshit happening at home was all I asked. That’s what everyone was going to give me, whether they liked it or not.
I’d worked at The Skull for a little over two years. It was the only place willing to hire someone without work experience and the owner didn't give a damn about my age. I was now a nineteen-year-old, slinging beer and whiskey in a biker bar to save up money to fund my own dream.
What was my dream?
I was going to be a badass biker street wear boutique owner.
I was determined.
I was driven.
Mostly, I was hungry.
To say that I’d grown up in an unstable household would have been an understatement. I had to make my own way through life ever since I could remember. My passion for clothing design gave me a break from Emma’s screwed up world, and into a fantasy of leather and lace.
I was raised around bikes and bikers my whole life, and drawn to the unique style. It wasn’t for everyone, but it sure as hell was for me. I lived for the daisy dukes, the tattoos, and the motorcycle memorabilia that came with the lifestyle. It was a world that brought me comfort, and a fashion sense that allowed me to be myself, without limits or boundaries. It was an attitude I rocked, a moral code I lived by, and now I wanted to make it my contribution to the world.
I wanted to have a clothing store as well as a patch shop, where I could take in people's leather and lace and bring it to life. I wanted to reach out to a community I admired, and offer quality clothing at an affordable price. These were my people and I wanted to cater to them. Where most people were put off by the biker life, I was exhilarated by it.
There were just two things stopping me: lack of money and those damn demons in my head telling me how much of a fool I was for trying to amount to anything.
Screw you, demons! I’ll show you.
So I had to stick it out at this dingy bar long enough to save up the money I needed.
“Emma! Throw me a drink!”
Rolling my eyes, I bent down beneath the bar and grabbed a beer. My mother was here, and not for the chance to visit her daughter at work, or to commend her for working her ass off to make ends meet. No, my mom had other things to worry about, like the young men at the bar. Gross, I know.
I was over my mother’s cougar ways. She was a forty-something-year-old woman trying to lure in twenty-something-year-old boys who had hard-ons for easy women in leather. She came in here wanting free drinks because her daughter worked behind the damn bar, and if I didn’t get her free drinks, then I conveniently found myself locked out of the fucking house.
“I’ll put it on your tab!” I said as I slid the beer down to her.
But all she did was laugh, like I had cracked a funny joke.
She was already talking with a poor young soul who didn't even look old enough to be in the bar in the first place. She was smiling and leaning on his shoulder, as he settled his hands on her hips. It was disgusting. The woman had no business preying on young men the way she did. She was desperate, and she was drama, and she was the reason why I took all the hours at the bar – that plus my goal to start my shop.
There were days when I never even slept. I would volunteer to come in during the morning hours to clean and set up. Then I would bartend all through the night. It would get me out of the house, earn me extra cash, and get me closer to finally moving myself out of the hell hole I was living in. If things went my way, then I would purchase a building that had a secondary loft over it, and I could live right above my business. It was my dream, and thanks to years of saving up I was so close I could taste it.
“Gimme a shot!”
I panned my gaze up and saw my mother sitting on a stool in front of me. She was back for more liquor.
“You got any cash?” I asked.
“You know the drill, sweetheart. Put it on my tab,” she said with a wink.
I wasn’t ready to fight with my mother tonight. I had already worked that morning, and I needed a place to sleep tonight, so I poured her a shot for free.
“Come on. You can do better than that. I know my only child won’t just leave me hanging” she said.
One shot became two, and two became four. I could see my manager already giving me looks, so I made it seem as if I was actually putting it on her tab. I went over to the register and punched it in, sighing as I looked at the total. My mother had already racked up close to thirty dollars in drinks I knew she wouldn’t pay for, and if I wasn’t careful, that bill would come out of my paycheck.
She tossed it back and swallowed it down. I saw her eyes scanning the crowd, probably looking for that hot piece of young ass she had her hands on earlier. He was standing in the corner with some other woman, and I saw the fire in my mom’s eyes flare up. This poor boy had no idea whose attention he had attracted, and I found myself watching as my mother drunkenly stumbled over to him.
But my entertainment was interrupted by a voice I wanted to hear.
“Mom at it again?” Lindy asked.
“Sweet fuck, I didn’t know you were working tonight.”
I threw my arms around my best friend before drinks started being called out for us to mak
e.
“Mackie called in sick, so here I am. And not a moment too soon, I see.”
Her eyes were looking over at my mother who had slipped herself between the young girl and the guy who had his hands on her earlier.
“That poor boy doesn’t know what he’s in for,” I said.
“Maybe she won’t cause a scene tonight,” Lindy said.
“My mother causes a scene every fucking night,” I said as I started grabbing drinks. “It’s just what happens.”
“So! Where are we with our clothing store bank account?” Lindy asked, trying to steer my mind away from my mother and her drama.
“Once you make your deposit for the month, we can start looking around for shops to buy.”
“Are you fucking serious?” she asked. “We’re there? Finally?”
“Yep. Checked the account yesterday when I made a deposit. Between the two of us, we’ve raised one hundred and thirty thousand dollars.”
“Once I make my deposit,” she said.
“Yep. Once you do that,” I said, grinning.
Lindy was going in with me on the clothing store. We were best friends since we were in middle school. At the bar, she was another under-aged girl who looked decent in a tight leather top and short-shorts, which meant she would rake in tips as well as men who would come to drink our disgusting concoctions. She loved the idea of an affordable biker-wear store, especially since leather jackets and the lace-up shoes were always so damn expensive everywhere.
The two of us had worked our asses off to save up the money we had. We never splurged on ourselves, and never spent a penny that didn’t need spending. We didn’t have credit cards, and we drove piece of shit cars that barely got us to and from our jobs. That’s the only way we’d been able to save up so much money in only two years. Well, that, and the money Lindy always seemed to accumulate from her various boyfriends over the years. She was a trooper.
Lindy was also the girl who could fix anything, from busted up laces and beat-up motorcycle helmets, all the way to motorcycles themselves. If it was in the biker world, she could fix it. I wanted her not only as someone I could trust to help run the place but as someone who could help open the patch shop I would eventually implement.