Released: MC Secret Baby Romance (New Adult Contemporary Biker Romance)

by Casey Elliot

  A cold wind blew through her and she shivered violently, proceeding to rub her hands together and blowing her breath on them in an effort to accumulate some heat. She heard scrunching noises coming near and she turned her head, eyes wide with hope, only for it to be dashed when she saw that it wasn’t her mother, but a boy standing before her.

  He was scruffy, wearing a leather jacket that was too big for him. The sleeves covered his hands and were hanging off. His shoes were muddy and worn, and his hair was spiked up in every direction due to the dirt and water clinging to it. His cheek even had a smear of mud, and she wrinkled her nose in slight disgust, forgetting that she didn’t look much better.

  “What are you doing over there?” the boy asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

  “What’s it look like?” she snapped back.

  His brows furrowed. “Like an idiot wanting to get sick, that’s what!” he fired.

  She stood up and walked up to the boy, pushing his chest with her finger. She was a couple of inches shorter than him, but the angry look in her eyes made him wary of her.

  “Why don’t you just mind your own business?” she cried.

  “I can’t!” he cried back.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I thought you’d get all sniffy and I was gonna give you my jacket!” he yelled.

  She blinked at him, taken back. He looked away from her, but even through the heavy downpour, the red in his cheeks was apparent. He led her back under the awning before taking off his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders. He plopped his butt on the edge of the pavement and slumped his chin to the palm of his hand.

  She looked at him and the jacket before sitting down beside him. She was staying dry now, but he was getting pelted. She pulled him closer to her so he could get under the awning. It was his turn to blink at her in confusion.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, and he scoffed.

  “Yeah well, don’t think I’ll do it again,” he said, making her scowl.

  “It wouldn’t kill you to be nice to me,” she remarked.

  He didn’t say anything in reply and she shook her head, slumping her back against the wall. She wished her mother would come soon. She was really cold now, and she didn’t know how long she could take this nosy boy’s attitude any longer.

  But, she had to admit that waiting out in the rain wasn’t so bad when you have someone else to wait with.

  “I’m Brooke,” she mumbled, unsure whether he’d reciprocate with her introduction. He stayed quiet for a few moments, Brooke figuring that the boy didn’t hear her, and then he spoke.

  “David,” he said softly.

  Despite their reluctance to express even a tiny sense of civility just a moment ago, they looked at each other and smiled.

  Chapter Two

  David

  If anyone ever tells you to NOT chase a truck with a motorcycle, word of advice: follow them. It’ll keep you from within an inch of death, I’ll tell you that.

  Although it pains me to say it, I have to. Brooke was right. I shouldn’t have let the moment escalate the way it did, but how was I supposed to know that the little weasel would have a contingency plan and take the drugs with him?

  You never know how these things will turn out! That’s the reason why people think before they do something crazy, dumbass! Now even my thoughts are using her voice in reprimanding myself. Wonderful.

  I shook it off and spurred my bike faster, keeping an eye on the little shit by the window, looking at me with his eyes wide with fear. That’s right, you better be scared, little shit, I thought. I hung back until I was tailing the truck, letting go of one handle to point my gun at one of the locks. I took aim and fired.

  I hit the latch and the door swung open, revealing two men inside plus the driver I was after. I revved the engine and raised the front of my bike, accelerating to the opening. My front wheel touched the floor and I rammed my bike inside, jumping out of it and quickly hitting the guy in the face with my fist. I heard the sound of a gunshot firing, felt something bounce off my helmet, and I glared at the perpetrator. This bastard just tried to shoot me! I jumped him and butted my helmet-clad head to his, knocking him out cold.

  I got up and turned my head slowly to my target, his face pale-white. He was trembling, and I could already see a wet spot forming in his trousers. I smirked malevolently at him, although he probably couldn’t tell with my helmet and all.

  “Keep your eyes on the road and give me the drugs, and maybe I’ll let you live,” I said.

  ***

  “You are so fucking irresponsible!” Brooke said, slamming her hands on the table and making every glass on top of it shake. I glared at her and held my glass, so it wouldn’t topple down and soil my pants.

  “I got the job done. Why the fuck does it matter how I did it?” I asked grouchily. She blows her gasket every time. I’m over it already.

  “It matters because your stunt could’ve gotten you killed! Or worse, arrested!” she shrieked. I raised my eyebrows at her.

  “Oh, so getting arrested is worse than me dying, is that it?” I asked.

  “Of course it is! You could’ve ratted, and then our lives would be over,” she said, and I shook my head. Selfish bitch. “Are you done with this?” She pointed at my half-eaten dinner.

  I opened my mouth to tell her that no, I wasn’t done eating, but she took my plate anyway and scraped the contents into the bowl of our dog, Bruiser. I bit the inside of my lip to stop myself from cursing at her and got up from my seat.

  I caught sight of something flash in the corner of my eye, and I frowned as I saw her cellphone blinking on the couch. I had half a mind to tell her about it, but curiosity won me over. Who could be calling her right now? My guys know not to contact me or Brooke when I’m home unless it’s urgent. I walked over and snatched it up, growling as I saw her screen.

  Frank calling…

  “Who the fuck is Frank and why is he calling you in the middle of the fucking night?

  Chapter Three

  Brooke

  I dropped the plate I was washing and turned around, gasping as David caged me in with his huge arms to the counter, the heat from his eyes and his body almost steaming out of him. His nostrils flared as he pinned me down with his teal-blue gaze, and I blinked.

  “Why do you care?” I asked, lifting my chin up to look at him squarely.

  “Answer me, Brooke!” he exclaimed, slamming his fist down on the side of the counter.

  I glared at him. “A guy I met over at the bar,” I answered.

  “Did you fuck him?” he asked.

  “What the hell is your problem?” I said, not answering his question. I raised my arm and placed it on his chest, trying to push him off. He reacted by pushing his lower half on mine, parting my thighs with his and brushing my core with his knee, making me look at him. Aghast, I whispered, “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Did. You. Fuck. Him. Brooke?” he said, stressing every word.

  I swallowed as he moved his leg slightly to push at my center and my breath caught. Damn him. “No,” I whispered, and he eased off of me a little.

  “Do you want to?” he asked again, and my glare intensified. I pushed him off harder and he relented this time, letting me walk away from him.

  “Whether I want to or not is no concern of yours,” I spat. I went into my room and closed my door with a bang, hoping the sound deafened the bastard. I knew it was a childish attempt, but he was so infuriating!

  I cursed under my breath as I realized that I had just forgotten my phone outside, but I wasn’t about to go back for that now. As far as I knew, he was holding it hostage, just begging me to go back for it. Well tough luck, David West. The last twelve years had been enlightening for me and I know each and every move you make before you even think of doing them.

  I plopped on my bed, my back on the mattress as I stared up at the ceiling, still grumbling about Dave’s…well, about Dave. He put himself in real danger and for what? Ten po
unds of drugs? It’s not worth it. Nothing is worth getting yourself killed, in my opinion, but Dave grew up in this kind of life and was practically bred and built for it by his father. How could he have chosen a different path?

  Growing up with Dave and his family led me to witness a lot of things that I shouldn’t have seen, but was expected to keep quiet about it. I watched as that little boy who begrudgingly helped an abandoned little girl out in the rain grow up so fast, hardened by the harshness of reality and more than ready to take on the mantle of running the gang of bikers that worked for and followed them.

  “You don’t have to do this, Dave! We could run!”

  “You don’t understand, Brooke. You don’t understand anything!”

  I shook my head, ridding my mind of that memory from years ago. It was too late to cry over that now, since he was the one in charge. I wasn’t strong enough to stop him from going down this path, no matter how much I wanted to repay him for rescuing me. He wouldn’t listen to anyone but himself.

  I’ll probably have to call Frank tomorrow and tell him I won’t be able to go and meet his new boyfriend, as well as tell him why I couldn’t answer my cell. He was so strung out that night I met him at the bar that I couldn’t help but ask him what was wrong, and then we got to talking.

  I knew it was the wrong thing to do, leading Dave on like that, but he deserved it. He shouldn’t act so possessive over me when there is nothing going on between us – nothing at all.

  And it was all his fault.

  Chapter Four

  The rain had stopped and the sun had come and gone, but Brooke’s mother never came back. The little girl tried to contain her sadness and fear for a little while, not wanting to cry in front of the little boy who was starting to get tired of waiting. But when David finally stood up, her resolve broke, and she pulled on his shirt, clutching it desperately.

  “Please don’t leave me!” she cried, tears streaking down her ashen face. David’s eyes widened and he placed his hands on the top of her head and her back to comfort her.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” David murmured.

  When he finally got Brooke to calm down a little, he gently pulled her hand off from gripping his shirt and, instead, held it tightly in one of his own. He was still hoping she was right and that her mother would come back for her, but he knew it was wishful thinking. He was used to seeing kids being abandoned by their parents on the side of the road like dogs, since the kids he played with that hung outside his father’s bar were exactly like that. He just didn’t think it was a good idea to tell her when she was still hoping her mother would return.

  “Listen,” David asked, and Brooke looked at him imploringly. “You’ll get sick if you wait here, so why don’t you stay with us for a while? Besides, I’m really hungry, so you’re probably hungry too,” he said hurriedly.

  Brooke pat her stomach with a slight frown as she realized that she hadn’t eaten anything except the sandwich her mother had prepared for her earlier this morning. She didn’t like the idea of leaving this spot though, because then her mother wouldn’t find her anywhere and may leave without her.

  “But I–” she started, and David quickly cut her off.

  “My dad knows a lot of people, so I’m sure he can help you out!” he said, and Brooke’s eyes widened at his outburst.

  “And if you still want to come back, then we can come back every day and wait a bit, but we have to go home,” he explained. He yanked her hand softly, pleading. Brooke bit her lip.

  “Well, I am kind of hungry,” she admitted. David smiled.

  “Let’s go. If we’re going to be waiting again later, then we’re going to need all the energy we can get,” he said, pulling her hand and leading her in the direction of his house.

  Not once did he ever let go of her hand as they walked home, and Brooke never made a move to pull away. The warmth that came from his tiny hands spread all the way to her heart, which was further intensified by how welcoming his father and mother had been when he brought her home with him.

  Her trips to that corner of the street slowly became far and few between, until it merely became a habit and a way of reminiscing; not about the mother who left her in the rain, but about being found by a boy who gave her another chance at a family.

  Chapter Five

  David

  I woke up to my alarm blaring in my ear, and I swatted the offending object away with my hand, hearing it crash to the floor. I sighed, putting my arm over my eyes to shield it from the light as I felt my brain trying to burst out of my skull. I guess drinking all that scotch after my argument with Brooke was a bad idea.

  Then again, once Brooke saw me like this, she’d probably tell me drinking all that scotch wasn’t a good idea, period.

  I groaned as I pushed myself out of bed, still squinting my eyes as I trudged out of my room and into the kitchen. I was expecting breakfast to already be on the table, so imagine my surprise when I didn’t see it there. I turned and looked around – slowly because my head still hurt – but Brooke was nowhere.

  “Jesus, she’s not still mad at me, is she?” I muttered. I crossed the hall toward her room and knocked on her door; nothing.

  “I’m coming in,” I called before trying the door knob and twisting it. It was locked.

  She left the house early, then. But she didn’t leave me a note explaining where she went like she usually does whenever she goes out to buy groceries, which means she was probably still mad at me. Great.

  I scoffed in disbelief because she could’ve at least fixed me an omelet or something. She knows I can’t cook worth anything. Talk about holding a grudge. I roved my eyes uninterestedly until I zeroed in on a post-it stuck to the microwave. I walked over to it and read the note scribbled with Brooke’s curly handwriting.

  “Smoothie for your dumbass hangover is in the fridge. Omelet is inside the microwave. Seeing Frank and will go straight to office after. BE SAFE.”

  I glared at the note like I was willing it to catch on fire. She’s still going out with that Frank? Even after last night? Unbelievable!

  I ripped the note off the microwave, crumpling it up in my fist before punching in the numbers on the timer and turning it on. Immediately, my mind went into overdrive. I imagined them having coffee in some spiffy-looking café, her laughing and giggling over the stupid shit that comes out of his mouth. I imagined him smiling and reaching over to hold her hand across the table.

  I imagined stuffing my foot down his throat until it came out of his ass.

  The microwave beeped and I took out the plate, not even registering how hot it was as I carried it over to the table. I pulled out the hangover smoothie from the fridge and took a long swig, the strange taste coating my tongue. It may taste weird, but it really does the trick; bless Brooke and her knack for experimenting on drinks.

  Wait, I’m supposed to detest her right now, aren’t I?

  I cursed under my breath. I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to hate Brooke – at least, not in this lifetime. We have so much history that this Frank was just going to be one of those little fights we have and then forget ever happened. That’s how Brooke and I have always been. We fight all the time, but we always come right back together.

  But lately, she hasn’t been as forthcoming with accepting my apologies as before, not since I became the head of the West gang. I mean, I knew she didn’t want me to be involved with the family business, but I didn’t have a choice. Like dad said, someone has to lead them, and if it wasn’t me, then who will?

  I looked at my watch, wondering if I have any buys scheduled for the day. I didn’t get any calls from Mathias either, so I was pretty sure I’d be free until later that night at the bar to meet with some prospective ‘clients.’

  I got up and washed my plate, throwing away whatever was left of my drink before diving onto the couch and closing my eyes. Brooke’s long and straight blonde hair, hypnotic, cobalt blue eyes, and sexy mouth immediately filled my brain and I sighed.
The first time I thought about Brooke like this, I was horrified. She was my best friend and the closest thing I had to a sister. But the years passed by, I became a horny individual, and Brooke became every guy’s wet dream – including mine. I tried to nip that dream in the bud, but the feelings inside of me just grew until I didn’t want to fight it anymore.

  That said, realizing early that I had feelings that ran deeper than sisterly affection for my childhood best friend did not mean that I stopped being a jerk. I continued sleeping around with other women – mostly those who kind of looked like her – just to try to get her out of my system.

  So I kind of understood why she’d be pissed off at me for getting mad at her for not shooting down other guys. She’s not mine – not yet anyway, but she doesn’t know that – and she’s free to hang out with other guys.

  That doesn’t mean I have to like it though.

  I buried myself into the couch more to get comfortable. I should just try to get some sleep instead of thinking about Brooke’s date, because it’s not going to change anything. The only way to get ahead of “Frank” is by apologizing later to her tonight during her shift at the bar,.

  And maybe, just maybe, she’ll be a little more interested in getting it on with me after that.

  Chapter Six

  Brooke

  The bar was pretty crowded tonight, so I was pretty much going back and forth behind the bar and to the booths, taking orders. I have two of the kids in Dave’s gang working in the kitchen and another serving the drinks, because they were too young and I wanted to keep them off of that kind of life, which David agreed to.

  One of them is going to keep working here to pay for college, and the other one is about to graduate from high school. I couldn’t have been prouder of them.