SAVIOR: A Motorcycle Club Romance

by Garland, Fiona

  “Well, I’m pretty damn scared too,” I said, turning flush at his praise. “I know Maria meant so much for you. She just seems so beautiful and thoughtful. I don’t know if I can ever be the same for you.”

  “You think Maria was born into that strong, beautiful woman?” he smiled. “She came into this country as a shy college student who could barely string an English sentence together. Maria grew into the person I fell in love with. You don’t have to be a ‘Maria.’ You can be yourself.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure being me is making me any more attractive. I’m clumsy and say the stupidest things at the least opportune times.”

  “Maria snored,” he chuckled. “She was irritable. We got into fights over who had to do the dishes. I loved every flaw and imperfection she had. It reminded me that I was in love with a real human being instead of a brother-in-arms or a motorcycle club. Just be yourself, Emily. If you can’t, I’ll be there to help you find out the person you want to be. It’s what Maria and I did for each other.”

  “Thank you, Max.”

  “Relax, I’m not asking you to marry me,” he said with teasing smile. “I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want to be a part of. But I want to start something with you if you’re willing to join me.”

  “Sorry, I’m can’t help but be a little apprehensive about starting a relationship again,” I replied with a sigh. I wasn’t even sure how long I would stay with Max in his home. “A few days ago, I thought I’d be a single woman freezing up by her lonesome self in an emergency center.”

  Max planted a soft kiss on my lips. “Don’t be. I don’t expect you to be Maria. Moreover, I won’t pretend to be your old boyfriend. We’re our own people.”

  “My old boyfriend…” I began, fighting back a flash of painful memories. “He was not a good man.”

  Max’s eyes narrowed in concern before focusing on the scar against my shoulder. “Did he hurt you?”

  “His name was Todd,” I said, evading his question. I supposed that was answer enough. “I met him when I was young and stupid… but it’s all in the past…”

  His face flared up in anger. I could see the dangerous biker of yesteryear in him. “Does he still bother you, Emily?”

  “No, he’s long gone,” I answered, hesitant to go further. However, Max deserved the truth after how he had opened up to me. “I stayed with Todd for longer than I should have. It wasn’t because I loved him or anything. I was just scared to leave him. He was the first person I had a real relationship with… if you can call it that. One day, I couldn’t take it and left him.”

  “Good,” he said proudly. “It was brave of you to leave him. Not a lot of people have the courage to leave a bad situation.”

  “Even you?”

  “I lived with the Steel Eagles for years,” he said with a shrug. “If I had stayed with them, I would have ended up living alone as some Captain. That’s assuming I was lucky and didn’t end up dead in a firefight.”

  “Todd made me swear off bad boys for life,” I giggled. “Present company not included.”

  Max held his hand up as if swearing a mock oath. “This bad boy is now a boy scout.”

  I leaned up against his nude body and kissed him. “Well, I like a bad boy every now and then.”

  I began to caress the hard contours of his abs. I felt the warm muscles in his body shift under my soft touch. Our encounter last time had been a bit rushed. I didn’t get an opportunity to appreciate his sexy body. I felt a shiver run up and down my spine as I explored his body.

  Nonetheless, Max seemed a little hesitant. A part of him seemed conflicted with embracing me back. I wondered if we had rushed things too quickly. The death of Maria was still fresh on his mind. I knew he wanted to move on but a piece of his heart longed for her.

  In all honestly, I wasn’t sure about what I felt for Max. I thought for sure I’d fall for a sexy guy like him. More importantly, he was my savior from certain death. He would always be an important part of my life. Yet, I wasn’t sure if our paths were the same or would diverge in the near future.

  Eventually, Max broke away. “I’d love to, Emily… I’d really love to but I’m feeling pretty damn hungry. Let’s have some dinner first.”

  I corrected him. “Breakfast.”

  “What?”

  “I think it’s morning,” I giggled. “We slept through the entire night.”

  “Breakfast it is then.”

  After getting dressed, we pulled out all the stops for breakfast. Max couldn’t cook but he knew how to make a mean cup of coffee. He even used a French Press when brewing coffee.

  His eggs weren’t that bad either. He made it benedict style with some spices. I guessed Maria had taught him how to prepare those.

  I went to work on the eggs and toast. I also made some baked beans to give add an English twist to it. I added in some strawberries as well. It would be better to eat them now than risk them going bad.

  Max kissed me before placing a cup of freshly brewed to my side on the counter. “Smells good. I always end up burning my bacon.”

  “My secret is to turn off the heat when the color starts to change,” I explained, feeling him hug me around the waist. “You have to watch the heat since it still cooks after you turn off the stove and serve it on a plate. If you take it off the stove when it’s partially cooked, it’ll finish cooking just about when it’s ready to serve.”

  He seemed more interested in me than in my cooking. Max gripped my waist even tighter. “Haven’t had a fancy breakfast like this quite some time.”

  “Please,” I said, lifting the pan off the stove. With the bacon ready, I took it out of the pan placed it on the plate where it sizzled. “You talking like this is the French Laundry.”

  Max raised an eyebrow. “The French what?”

  “You philistine,” I chided, placing the plate on the kitchen table. Breakfast was finished. “It’s a fancy restaurant in San Francisco. I always wanted to go there but it was just way too expensive for me. An eight course meal over there costs a small fortune.”

  Max sat across from me at the table. “You’re from the West Coast?”

  I nodded. “I was born there. I left about a year ago to start a new life around these parts. I just wanted to get away from that place… and the people there.”

  “Is that why you moved in-land?” he asked, hesitant to probe further. “To get away from your ex?”

  Shaking my head, I poked my toast with a fork. “No, there were a lot of reasons. My father for one thing.”

  “Your father?”

  “My dad was a cop,” I said, reminiscing about the past. “After mom died, I had to hold down the fort at home. He was always too busy with work. Dad would be in and out of the house like a ghost while I slept.”

  “Dad was cop, huh?” Max replied. “I guess that’s why you never liked bad boys.”

  “No, that was Todd,” I corrected. “Anyway, Dad died when I was just coming out of college. It was a traffic ticket that went wrong. Dad had promised me he would cut back on his hours so he could spend more time with me. He told me he regretted seeing his little girl grow up without him…”

  We were both quiet for some time before Max spoke. “That’s sad to hear.”

  “I was lost after his death,” I said absentmindedly. “Between just growing up and dealing with his death, I was desperate for someone to help me. That’s how I ended up with Todd.”

  “Who was he?”

  “Some rich kid I met through college,” I answered. “He was persistent and I gave in after Dad died. He was rich and had a nice car. I was young and stupid. We were a match made in hell.”

  He reached across the table to touch the faded scar on my shoulder. Anger flashed briefly in his eyes. “He hurt you, didn’t he?”

  “He hurt me in a lot of ways,” I sighed. “I was just so depressed at the time. It was like I was perpetually drowning with each waking minute. I wanted some to help… to save me. But Todd just made
it worst. He dragged me under the water.”

  “What made you leave?” Max asked, before a pang of regret hit his face. “Sorry, I should be asking these questions.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I replied, blushing at his show of sensitivity. “You told me about your past in all fairness. One day, I had a dream about Dad.”

  “A dream? What was it about?”

  “Nothing particularly interesting,” I said with a shrug. “We were having dinner together. It was like one of those rare occasions he was home before dark. I don’t know why exactly but it made me rethink my life. I had thought a few bruises was worth having Todd provide for me. However, I knew my dad would’ve hated to see me with a degenerate like Todd. The next day, I packed my bags and sneaked out… all because of that dream.”

  A half-smile appeared on Max’s lips. “Electrons firing in your brain.”

  “Electrons firing in your brain,” I said, my lips mirroring his smile. “I left California and headed eastward. I ended up finding a decent enough roommate in a small town thirty something miles from here. For work, I did odd jobs, such as babysitting or doing someone else’s laundry. We’re both poor as squirrels but we pay the rent on time. I suppose that’s something.”

  Max finished up his breakfast. “Sounds like you’ve turned your life around.”

  I still had to work on my toast. “That’s high praise from an expert, Mr. Boy Scout.”

  “Trust me, I’m still a biker at heart,” he chuckled. “When the weather clears up, I’m doing going out for a joyride. Besides, Maria preferred to biker to the boy scout when we in bed.”

  I finished eating but there was a lot on my mind. “I’m just filled with so many regrets.”

  “About Todd?”

  “No, about my dad,” I exhaled. “I wish I had spent more time with him. I didn’t know so much about him. Same with mom. It’s like the people who brought you into this world were strangers.”

  “I know what you mean,” he said, nodding in agreement. “I was orphaned at an early age. The memories of my mother have faded over time. I have a few photographs of her but I never really knew her. She’s just this beautiful woman in a faded photo. For my father, it’s even worse.”

  “You knew him a little better, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, and I learned about him through the other Steel Eagles,” he said with a bittersweet smile. “But I never had a chance to know the real him. I just knew my father as the Steel Eagles’ gunrunner. I don’t know whether or not I hate the man for what path he guided me towards… but I wished I knew him better.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “More to the point, I wish I knew Maria better,” Max said, rubbing his eyes. “The years with her were the happiest of my life. She gave me so much of herself. I even took her last name. Yet, there were so many questions I wanted to ask. There was so much more I could’ve learned. Why did she never button up the bottom button of that one dress? Why did she always put her left foot forward first when walking into a new room? Did she like Thai food? Those answers are lost to time.”

  “I know the feeling,” I said. “I hated myself for not getting to know my dad better. I suppose we could get to know each other better.”

  “Good idea,” he said in agreement. “Do you have any relatives?”

  “Not that I know of, my parents eloped when they were young,” I answered. “My grandparents never approved of their marriage. My mom’s family had money but they cut off her inheritance after she married dad. I have some relatives but my parents were never in close contact with them.”

  “They ran off together?” Max said, somewhat amused. “Just like those romance movies from Hollywood.”

  “I’ve always been a romantic at heart,” I giggled. “It’s genetic... but I wish it had been romantic for my parents. After mom died, dad buried himself in his work. I guess it helped him deal with her death.”

  Max looked away into the distance. “I can understand that. What else can you tell me about yourself?”

  “Not much to add,” I shrugged. “Like I said before, I do some odd jobs for a living. Some days, I’m walking dogs. Other times, I’m watering plants. It doesn’t pay much but it’s steady work.”

  “Are you looking for something more permanent?” Max asked. “I have some connections through my work if you’re interested.”

  “My roommate works as a waitress at a bar. I wanted to work there as well. However, you need to know how to make cocktails. My off the shelf mojito doesn’t cut it.”

  “Maybe I can teach you,” he said. The offer seemed genuine. “Steel Eagles are taught how to pour cocktails by the time they are ten years old. I even learned to make old fashions when I was eight years old.”

  “I’ll take up on it when we have some free time.”

  The man scratched his chin “I suppose we should keep some bottles on standby. We could use it to keep ourselves warm.”

  “Actually, alcohol doesn’t heat up the body. It just keeps the blood cells from-“

  “I was kidding!”

  “Sure you were,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Speaking of the Steel Eagles, how did they get their name?”

  “We used to have a vat of molten steel at the club,” Max answered without skipping a beat. “One day, an eagle flew through the window and fell into it. We fished it out and made it into our symbol.”

  I looked at him slack-jawed. “Seriously?”

  “No, of course not,” he chuckled, he gestured towards the living room. “It goes back to World War II. Follow me.”

  I got up and tailed him. “Your motorcycle club existed back then?”

  The biker shook his head. “No, we were formed later in the seventies. However, one of our founders fought in World War II on the Western Front. He was in the air force as part of the 101 Division. They were more popularly known as the-”

  “Screaming Eagles,” I said to Max’s surprise, following him into a spare bedroom. “My dad was a World War II buff.”

  “When he formed a motorcycle club,” he continued, taking out a box out of a drawer. The biker opened it and revealed a treasure-trove of mementos. It contained photos, badges, a small handgun, and some other trinkets. Max pulled out a photo of a man in military uniform in front of a World War II bomber plane. “He decided to pay homage to his past as a paratrooper. The ‘Steel’ part of the name comes from the motorcycles we ride.”

  “Explains the name,” I replied, eyeing over the contents of the box. “What’s with the gun?”

  “It’s an M1911A1,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “It’s the greatest handgun ever made if you ask me. It’s reliable, accurate, and has plenty of stopping power. That’s pretty impressive when you consider that it was designed over a hundred years go. Go on hold it.”

  I nervously held onto with both hands as if it were a live bomb. “It feels light.”

  “It’s unloaded,” he replied, sensing my apprehension and taking it from me. Max aimed it and hit the thumb safety. “And it’s about a half pound lighter than the average M1911A1 while having an even stronger frame. It was custom built to begin with but it’s had a number of modifications over the years. My dad changed the grip and sight system for better aiming. I installed a hair trigger so it doesn’t take as much effort to fire it. ”