by K E Osborn
I chuckle and decide to play nice. “Okay, so tonight? Where can I pick you up?”
She looks up at me breathing through an O shape in her mouth forcefully like she’s trying not to hyperventilate. It’s so cute the way I affect her.
“My place, I suppose?”
“Right, so here’s my number. Text me the address. I’ll be there at seven. Wear pants. A skirt will be bad on the bike. And heels, wear heels… red ones.” I hand her a card with my number on it, and she takes it watching me and nodding taking in my instructions. I like that she knows when to listen.
“See you at seven, babe.” I start to move to walk off, but I can’t leave without touching her face in some way and every part of me wants to kiss her, but I know full on kissing her lips will scare her. So I lean in, and as softly as I can I kiss her cheek. She leans into me, and I smile against her cheek knowing she’s into it.
Pulling back as the tingling in my lips is still fizzling against my skin, I look in her eyes and she smiles. “Seven.” I turn regretfully dropping my hand from hers and walk away.
“Will we be eating dinner?” she calls out.
“I’ll be eating you for dinner,” I murmur.
“Steel!” she berates and I turn back and chuckle. “Sorry, sure dinner. I’ll take you somewhere nice. Be ready at seven. I won’t be late, I don’t want you to be either. Got me?”
Her lip turns up. “Don’t make me change my mind.”
“Seven,” I reiterate.
She huffs and nods. “Seven. If you’re late, I’m going to—”
“This should be good.”
“Hey! I can be badass,” she tells me. I turn looking at her raising my eyebrows ignoring the fading roar of the bike engines all leaving me behind.
“Just sayin’ badass is badass, babe. I can’t wait to see what other cuss words I can ween from you.”
She smirks and looks back at the centre door making sure it’s closed. “Well… shit then.” She smiles brightly as I bring my hand to my chest like she’s shot a cupid’s arrow straight through my heart as I chuckle.
“Geez Flame, you got me burnin’ up again.”
She rolls her eyes and closes the gate locking me out. “Your brothers have left you behind, better go catch Santa on your toy run little biker boy,” she teases.
I smirk and shake my head. “You think that fence will save you from this bad boy biker, Miss Willow?”
She chuckles turning around and walking toward the door, her red hair cascading over her shoulders and falling along her back in waves, making me want to run my hands through and clench onto it as she sucks my cock. I shudder at that thought.
“I’ll see you at seven, biker boy."
Groaning with the friction in my pants at the thoughts in my head and the vision of her taut arse walking away from me, I shake my head turning around running my hand through my hair and walk back dodging cars to my bike. Techie sits on his Harley waiting for me. Adjusting my straining cock in my pants as I reach my bike, Techie chuckles at me.
“So getting it on with the locals, Steel my man?”
“I saved a kid, so we’re goin’ on a date. Seems fair.” I chuckle at my summation of the last ten minutes.
Techie tilts his head looking up to the sky. Shit, I know that look. Here comes information overload.
“You know red hair is associated with the MC1R gene. It’s a recessive and rare gene that occurs in only about two percent of the world’s population.”
I stare at him blankly and shake my head. “So?”
He huffs and rolls his eyes. “So people like kindergarten teacher over there are a rare find. I’m just saying that the Kinsey Institute did a forty year study on the percentage of relationships that worked, and found that only one in ten people develop a relationship where both sides of the couple stay in love with each other until the end of their life.”
I continue to stare blankly at him listening to his stupid percentages and useless crap information. “Techie, English please.”
“The odds are not in your favour, Steel. That’s all I’m saying.” He slaps my shoulder and starts his bike. The roar of the engine helps my heart to plummet further down my chest. I look over to the child care centre wondering if Techie’s right. Maybe Willow is way out of my league. She’s a good girl. Beautiful, bright, has a decent job. She deserves better than a biker like me.
Swallowing hard, I grab my lid and cram it on my head forcefully. I don’t bother to do it up. I feel like breaking the law, rebellion is what I’m good at after all. Throwing my leg over my Hog, I sit down on the leather seat pulling my ride upright as I start the engine.
I glance back over to the centre to see Willow looking out of the window staring at me and my chest tightens. She smiles and waves, and I huff and kick back the stand and pull on the throttle.
“Fuck!” I murmur and hammer down into the traffic not looking to see if anything’s coming. A car honks but I don’t care, I just want to get away.
I can’t think about her.
She’s too good for a savage like me.
During the remainder of the toy run, I was distracted. Thoughts of the red-headed goddess filled my brain. The sweet innocence of her has me in a complete spin. She’s nothing like the girls I know, nothing like the girls I’ve known all my life. It’s tantalizing and I want to get to know her, know more about her. I want to go on this date tonight, but I’m torn. I should probably leave her be. Pulling a girl like her, a good girl, into this world would be a shit thing to do. She’s so pure and fragile that I fear bringing her into my world could break her. Damage her. Make her into something she should never be.
My thoughts are racing as I sit at the desk in my room sifting through some paperwork when my mobile phone alerts me to a message. I exhale slamming the papers down on the desk and pull my phone from my jean’s pocket. The message is from an unknown number which always gets the hairs on my neck standing up. I swipe the screen to unlock it and punch in the pin code. Opening the message, I see it’s from Willow giving me her address and to thank me again for saving Jackson today. It also says she’s looking forward to our date tonight.
A knot forms in my stomach as I figure out what the hell I’m going to do. Do I go on this date and see where life takes us? Maybe bring this sweet thing into this dark world of mine. Or do I let her go now before she gets hurt?
I decide on the latter.
I’m not sure whether I should message her to cancel or just not show up?
Taking a deep breath I decide blowing her off would be cruel, so I start typing back my reply.
Me: Hey babe, I’m heaps sorry. Somethin’ has come up at the club and I can’t make it tonight. But I hope you have a good night.
Hitting send I exhale feeling like a jerk, and that something great might just be slipping through my fingers. But I’m doing right by her and that’s the main thing, right?
Willow: That’s fine. I hope everything is okay? I understand, a little disappointed, but I understand. Maybe next time? :)
I swallow hard. There won’t be a next time! But I would like something to remember her by. I don’t want to push my luck, but I’ll see how this goes down.
Me: This may sound strange, but can you send me a pic?
I smile hoping she’ll send one just so I’ll have something to look at. Her reply comes in quickly.
Willow: Um… I’m not sexting a guy I haven’t even dated yet!
I laugh hard and sink into my chair at her surmise. Fuck, she’s funny! I shake my head and write back quickly.
Me: A pic of your face you pervert!
I laugh as I hit send and there’s a bit of a delay in her reply, and I wonder if maybe she’s blocked me before I could write back with my reply. I hope she doesn’t think I’m some crazy pervert like those people you find on the internet dating sites that ask for pussy pics straight after they say hello.
Suddenly, my phone vibrates with a message. I look down and there’s a picture of her
face, her smile is bright, but she has a look like she’s a little embarrassed. Her eyes are squinting and her lips are drawn together even though they’re smiling. Her beautiful red hair sitting just over her shoulder accents her pale white face, and her full red lips make me want to lean into the phone screen and kiss them.
She is stunning.
God, I wish she was mine.
But thinking like that never gets you anywhere. My cock twitches. But now, at least, I have something to remember Flame by.
I figure I better reply, saying nothing will look like I don’t like her. I do. Too fucking much.
Me: God you’re gorgeous! I have to go, club meeting, but I’ll message you soon, babe.
I won’t.
Willow: Thank you. Have a good meeting. Talk to you soon biker boy. xo
I exhale and move forward in my chair and thump my forehead on the desk. Bringing my head up and then back down again banging it on the desk twice more for good measure. The pain of the hits radiating through my skull.
“Fucking idiot!” I berate myself.
I figure there’s no use in being in here feeling fucking sorry for myself, so I put my phone back in my pocket and walk out of my room down the hall and out into the clubroom. The music is blaring again, and I shake my head wishing this slight headache would ebb. I turn to see Chops going to town on Amie. She’s up on the pool table with her legs spread and his head is buried between them. She’s moaning out in pleasure and I curl my lip up and shake my head. The thing about Amie is she is barely legal. Her age is questionable at best. She’s got to be seventeen at the most. She’s new to the club and wants to impress, so she’ll spread her legs for anyone, even the filthy old men.
I keep walking past the show and up at the bar to get a drink. Knucklehead is behind the bar, and so is Doug, but no FIM. I raise my eyebrow wondering where the new prospect is, I guess he’s on an errand.
“Beer Steel?” Knucklehead asks. I nod and relax into the seat and lean my elbows on the bar and put my head in my hands. I feel shit about blowing Willow off, it’s making me tense, but I know I’ve done the right thing. I can’t imagine bringing her here to see Chops munging down on a new girl like that.
“What’s got you spittin’ chips?” I jump in my seat as the voice appears from nowhere and startles me. Looking up, I see FIM has perched on a barstool next to me.
What the fuck?
“How the fuck did you sit down without me noticin’?” I ask raising an eyebrow to him. I’m normally extremely attuned to my surroundings, but I didn’t hear a fucking thing and he’s right next to me.
“You didn’t hear me sit down?” he asks.
“Um no? What the fuck man? Sneakin’ up on people… shit like that will get your arse shot around here.”
“Like he needs another hole in his arse. Have you smelt this guy’s shit?” Doug asks making me crack up laughing.
FIM rolls his eyes and slaps his brother across the arm. “Fuck off prick.”
“No really, try living with him. I had to grow up with the bastard. Don’t ever feed him licorice. The day after… fuck me. Don’t even get me started on his dried apricot farts—”
“Okay, okay, that’s enough. Fuck,” FIM says and I’m laughing so much my eyes are fogging up.
“Shit guys, you two will get along here just fine.”
“As long as Doug can get a handle on this head situation you have on the tap beer man, ‘cause you suck fucking shit at pouring beer, dude,” Knucklehead tells Doug and I smirk at him as he nods his head in understanding.
“Yeah, I know. Never poured a beer in my life. Drunk plenty, though.”
I smirk and shake my head thinking how lucky it was these two brothers came into Strapless right when we needed them.
The club doors open and Cassius and Shogun run in, behind them Dad saunters in along with my brothers. They were outside in the compound smoking some durries. I gave up long ago. Well, honestly, I never really started. Mum never liked it, so I did right by her and never took up the habit. I tried it for about a month, but the taste never grew on me, and I just stopped. My brothers think I’m a joke. A biker who doesn’t smoke. But hey, at least I won’t need oxygen to breathe when they’re all eighty with emphysema.
“Kid, we got church. I’m calling it in,” Dad yells out to me, as they all walk in behind him. Raising my eyebrows, I nod and skull back the dregs of my beer, heading over to the assembly room.
I take up my seat to the left of Dad and everyone else sits in their usual spots. A thrill of excitement flows through me at sitting in my first church session as the VP. Cassius comes to my side and sits by my feet, it seems only fitting that he’s here with me now. I bend down and give him a pet while he nuzzles into my hand.
Dad bangs the gavel and I look back up and sit back in the chair with my arms crossed. “Okay, church is in session.”
I take a deep breath and look at my brothers, Behemoth the monster of a man, tall, muscles on muscles on muscles, but the softest and gentlest man you’d ever meet. Lookout, his skin a dark chocolate colour, his stature tall and intimidating, but every word he says makes me chuckle because he’s either so angry at nothing, passing out at the sight of blood, or talking in a very questionable way. Jigsaw, the Swedish immigrant, moved here to escape the Swedish mafia. His bleached blond hair and dark brown beard are in stark contrast making him look quite strange, but it suits him and his oddball way. Techie, tall and muscular with a boy next door face and black rimmed glasses. To look at him you wouldn’t know he was a biker. But his nerd abilities, as well as his killer instincts, are second to none. The kid’s a fucking genius. Then there’s Chops, a lot older than the rest of us, a First 7 Original with his balding head and grey mutton chops taking up the entire sides of his face. They’re ugly, but so is he. He’s had them for as long as I’ve known him. They’re the reason for his road name. His Chopper Read moustache completes his look. Then I look at my dad, he’s the typical bad boy biker, the long triangular grey beard, long hair that matches, and a round stomach that sits out further than he’d like.
Suddenly, the gavel is slammed into my hand on the desk, the pain of the harsh wood jamming onto my knuckles sends an ache right up my arm.
“Ouch, fuckin’ hell!” I pull my hand away and bring it up to my face for inspection then glare at my old man for hitting me. “What the fuck?”
“You’re the VP, Steel. You need to pay attention, not be a spoiled brat.”
I huff, rubbing my hand and glare at him through thin slitted eyes. “Then stop callin’ me kid, and call me Steel like everyone else does.”
He huffs. “You’ll always be kid to me, kid.”
I roll my eyes as a couple of the guys snicker. “Fine, what’s happenin’?” I ask actually paying attention now.
“5113 are planning something. We took out their leader, so they’ll be plotting a revenge attack. We took their drugs, killed their men, we should be prepared for war.”
“What the fuck happened?” Chops grunts.
“Chez wanted more money, I didn’t want to give it,” I say nonchalantly.
“So you shot him?”
I huff and slump in my chair. “He pulled his gun, I pulled my knife. Alex pulled his gun, so did Jake. Jigsaw moved slightly, and Chez’s men reacted first, Chops. Don’t go acting like I wanted a war. Chez shot Jake, Alex shot Chez, a guy lunged at me and I stabbed him with Wesley while Jigsaw opened fire on the others. Alex went down. More of the 5113 boys came in and I had to duck from the shells man. The bullets were rainin’ down on us until Jigsaw called Crash in.”
“Yeah, I let off a grenade, blew those fuckers to kingdom come and we got out with the drugs, our money, and at least seven 5113ers six feet under. It’s a win-win I say.” Crash smirks and I can't hide my smile—clearly we are on the same page.
“You’re a fucking idiot if you think killing off seven of the 5113ers is going to scare them off,” Dad says.
“They’re a street gang, Prez
. How tough can they be?” I scoff.
“Don’t be ignorant, kid. Where do you think they get their firepower from? Their drugs from? They don’t get that shit themselves. They have suppliers. They have people they work for. This is bigger than them. If we cut the supply to the more major players, the fall back is on us. You cocks are just too fucking infantile in this game to understand.”
“Just ‘cause we’re young don’t mean we don’t understand how this club works.”
“And just ‘cause you think you know everything, don’t mean you do either, kid. You gotta lot to learn. This shambles shows me that. Chops and I will have to settle the snakes and see if we can calm the new head honcho the fuck down. Chez was a cool guy. Who knows what his replacement will be like?”
“You’re reactin’ over nothin’, Prez. They’re a bunch of kids. We’re bikers. I think we hold the upper hand.”
“And that’s the sort of attitude that gets cunts killed, kid. You think you’re better than everyone else because you’re entitled. Don’t force me to make a fool of you in front of everyone for your attitude, kid.”
“Fuck off—”
Dad swings his gavel and it connects with my hand again on the table smashing it down hard on my knuckles.
“Fuck! Smashin’ your own flesh and blood because he has the guts to talk back to you. It’s no wonder Mum left you.”
The room falls silent as Dad grits his teeth and his lip curls up in clear disgust as his harsh glare stares right at me. But I don’t back down. Dad and I argue all the time. This is nothing my brothers haven’t seen before. My shoulders are tense as I stare my dad down waiting for him to break. His hand clenches tight and I’m waiting for him to punch me.
“Okay, well, how about we fucking quit the family dysfunction and get on with church. Whenever you fuckfaces are ready to put your cocks away?” Chops berates. He’s the only brother my dad would let get away talking to him like that, except for me.