Dirty Biker (An MC Motorcycle Romance) (The Maxwell Family)

by Alycia Taylor

  That made me smile and I couldn’t pass it up. “You know, it’s a silly name, but I think if I left the world, there would be a few more left behind.”

  He didn’t smile. I don’t think he liked my joke. “If you died, part of me would die with you…but I would be a better man for just having known you. So there goes your argument for “What if I die?” I don’t believe in my heart, however that you’re going to die. So what that means is waiting for transplants and enduring dialysis. What that means is a busy schedule. I want to be there for all of that Molly. I want to be by your side. I want to read to you while you’re on the dialysis machine and I want to brush your hair when you’re in the hospital and hold your hand while you wait to hear about the transplant. I want you, Molly. Not just the you who’s healthy and happy and having a good day. I want the real you. I’m in love with the real you. I’m so much in love with you, Molly. My heart physically aches for you.”

  Did he say love? He’s in love with me? My chest started to hurt and I could barely take in a breath. Why did he have to say that? I love him too. I love you too. Say it out loud, Molly. What have you got to lose? He said it.

  “Brock,” I started.

  “Don’t tell me to go away again, Molly, because I’m not going. I’m sorry, but I’m not leaving.” He wouldn’t stop talking, so I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. That did it. He kissed me back, with a passion, and my chest really ached from lack of oxygen then.

  “I was just going to say, I love you too,” I told him. The look on his face was enough to die for after that, and I realized that if I did die today, at least I left knowing that I had experienced life’s greatest gift, the love of a good man.

  After we kissed some more and he held me for a while, I sent him back out to get Gran who we had forgotten about. Poor old Gran. Megan and Jake got there, just before they took me back to the OR. Meg hugged me and told me she loved me, and then to my great surprise, so did Jake. That one almost put me over the top.

  As they wheeled me back in my lovely paper cap, Brock held my hand. When we got to the door the nurse told him, “I’m sorry, sir. You’ll have to wait in the waiting room now.”

  He bent down and kissed my lips once more. I wanted to put my arms around him and let him lift me up and carry me away from all of this. But I didn’t. I decided to suck it up and take it like a woman, especially when he said, “I love you Molly, with my whole heart. I’ll be right here when you come out, okay?”

  I nodded. He was blurry through the tears, but they were good tears, happy ones. I was headed to a room where they were going to take out a vital organ that I literally couldn’t live without for very long, yet I was happier than I ever remember being. Crazy, I know.

  “I love you too, Brock,” I told him.

  I watched his face until the doors had completely closed on him. When they got me into the OR, the anesthesiologist was waiting for me.

  “Hi Molly, are you ready to get this done?”

  “What’s the hurry, Doc?” I asked him. “You have a tee time?”

  He laughed, “I wish we could keep you awake, you’re a lot funnier than Dr. Harris. He’s kind of flat as a matter of fact.”

  “Yeah, I can’t imagine why. Dealing with cancer is hilarious.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Brock

  The doctor had told us she would be back there for about three hours. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to stand it for three hours. I wondered just how mad they would be if I went back and just peeked through the window, just to make sure she was okay and they were treating her right.

  Jake was playing a video game on his iPad and Megan was reading a magazine. Molly’s grandmother was knitting. I stood up and paced for a bit, but I noticed the looks of the others and, not wanting to tell me that I was making them nervous and they wished I would stop, I stopped. I started wishing I had brought my guitar. At least I could go play music for the other patients and make myself useful for a bit.

  I sat again for a while, and then I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. I almost ignored it, but I didn’t have anything else to do so I slipped it out and looked at it. It was my dad. Somehow, some way, he always knew when I needed him. I went out to the outer lobby and answered it.

  “Hi Dad,”

  “Hey son. How are you?”

  I looked towards the OR doors and almost told him to call back in another two hours or so and I would let him know. Instead, I said, “Dad, I met the most amazing girl.”

  My dad laughed, “Don’t you meet them pretty regularly son?”

  “Not like this one, Dad. This one is a keeper…like for forever.” My dad could hear in my voice that I was serious.

  “That’s great son!” he said, with real enthusiasm. “What’s her name?”

  “Her name’s Molly and I am head over heels in love with her,” I told him. I spent the next hour on the phone with him. After I told him about her, and finally told him where I was and what I was doing here, he wouldn’t hang up. He couldn’t be here for me in person, so he was here for me via telephone. I have the greatest dad in the world, the best and prettiest girlfriend, and two of the best friends anyone could ask for. I’m a lucky guy. I felt so much better after talking to my dad. He was always so positive, and it was contagious. Any lingering doubts I had that Molly wasn’t coming out of there alive and well were purged by the sound of his voice and the wisdom of his words.

  After I finished on the phone finally, I went back into the waiting room. “Does anyone want coffee or anything?” I asked them. Molly’s grandma said she would love some, Megan wanted a soda, and Jake said, “I’ll go with you and see what they have to eat. I got up early and breakfast was a long time ago.”

  We weren’t gone long, but when we got back Molly’s grandmother wasn’t there. “Where’s Grandma?” I asked Megan.

  “It’s okay, Brock,” she said. “Molly’s out of surgery. She’s not awake yet, but they let her grandma go back and see her.

  I felt an overwhelming desire to go barge in there myself. I knew if I tried it though, I’d be carried out by security and I wouldn’t be here when she woke up. So I sat and waited some more, and finally her grandma came back and said, “She’s still sleeping, but you can go back one at a time if you want.” I looked at Megan and she smiled. “Go ahead. I’m sure she’d rather wake up to your pretty face than mine,” she said.

  As I was headed out the door I heard Jake say, “You think he’s pretty?”

  The nurse let me into the recovery room and I followed her to a glass room where Molly was. It wasn’t really a glass room, I guess, but it had huge glass doors facing out to the nurses’ station. She told me to go on in. None of the equipment was foreign to me; I had seen it all before up close and personal. But seeing Molly’s tiny body in that bed, hooked up to all of those tubes and monitors made me feel sick. I went over and bent down to give her a kiss and then I sat down in the chair next to the bed. She reminded me of when I was a kid and I watched Snow White. When she ate the apple and went to sleep, the dwarves put her in a glass coffin and she slept until the prince came.

  I put one hand over hers and said, “I’m not claiming to be Prince Charming, baby, but I want to be your prince and I’m here, so wake up.”

  That was when she opened her eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Molly

  After surgery, it doesn’t matter how well it went, you always wake up feeling like hell. Your mouth is dry and your vision is blurry. You’re disoriented and confused and sometimes you’re in pain. I discovered today though that the cure for most, if not all of that, was to wake up with Brock at your bedside. His face when I opened my eyes was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.

  “Hi,” I croaked. My throat was still sore from the breathing tube they’d put down during surgery.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said with a dazzling smile. “How are you feeling?”

  “Euphoric,” I told him.

  “Th
ere you go with the big words again,” he said. “Are you sure you’re not an English major?”

  “I don’t know why I’m not,” I said. “Speaking of words, before I came into surgery you said a few to me…”

  He leaned in close to the bed then and kissed me on my lips that had to be hard and dry and then he said, “I love you Molly.”

  “Those were the words I was looking for. Does it seem a little desperate that I’m wearing a gown split up the back and lying in bed when I ask you to say it?”

  He laughed again. “I think you’re still feeling the juice,” he said.

  “Maybe a little,” I admitted. “But mostly, I’m feeling the love. I love you, Brock,” I said.

  Then I closed my eyes and drifted off again. I don’t know how much time passed, but I felt Brock’s warm lips on mine again. I smiled and said, “My prince.”

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  RUINED

  THE COMPLETE MOTORCYCLE CLUB ROMANCE SERIES

  By Alycia Taylor

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2016. All rights reserved.

  PART ONE

  Chapter One

  Dax

  “I’m gonna hope we don’t see you again,” the property officer said and handed me the last of my things.

  All my pitiful possessions collected over the past two years in a cardboard box.

  “I’m not in any hurry to see your ugly face again, that’s for sure.”

  This officer was one of the good guys. Some of the correctional officers had something to prove and some of them came in every day and did their job. Hernandez had worked in the prison system for twenty-four years. He didn’t have a damn thing to prove and even after all of those years in service, he remembered that although we may be the dregs of society, we’re still human; at least most of us are.

  “Somebody coming or are they driving you out to the Amtrak?”

  “Nah, my mom’s coming,” I told him.

  My poor mom. I had put her through some serious crap over the years and she was still the only one who made the trip up to Pelican Bay to see me every Sunday. Most of what was in the box I held came in packages she sent. I left a lot of it for my cellmate. He was still looking at another ten years. I was coming out after two. I didn’t know if I would survive if I had to go another eight.

  Hernandez turned serious and said, “Next time you think about doing something stupid, give a thought or two to how hard this had to be on her…and she stuck by you too.”

  “I know H—Thanks! I won’t be seeing you, so take it easy.”

  I stepped into the sally port with the transportation officer, Collins. Collins didn’t like his job and he really didn’t like inmates. As far as he was concerned, paroled or not, I was still an inmate. He treated me like one as he loaded me into the van. The only difference was he wasn’t allowed to put the waist chains on me. I think that pissed him off.

  I, Collins and another parolee named Simons drove in silence to the gates. It was overcast, but that was the normal weather there. I was actually looking forward to getting back to the heat in the valley. Crescent City might be a nice place to visit, but I didn’t want to live there any longer.

  My mother had to wait at the little “friends on the outside” trailer to pick me up. They couldn’t release me inside the prison gates to her. Simons was heading to the Amtrak. He was worse off than I was, not even his mother wanted to pick him up.

  I saw her blue Saturn parked as we approached. She had an SUV, but she refused to drive it up there. She said it ate too much gas. It wasn’t like my father couldn’t afford it, but Mom was never one to spend frivolously.

  She got out when she saw us and opened the trunk. Collins stepped out of the van, opened my door, handed me my box and gave a curt nod in my mother’s direction. Then he climbed back into the CDC van and headed out to drop lonely Simons at the train.

  “Hey, Dax,” my mother said.

  She was pushing fifty, but she was still a beautiful woman. She had light blond hair and it was natural, not from a box or a bottle. Everything about my mother was natural, she wasn’t into the big fake boobs or any of that like a lot of the “old ladies” at the club were.

  “Hi, mom, how are you?” I gave her a kiss on the cheek. She always smelled good too. She had worn the same perfume since I was a baby. I didn’t even know what it was called, but whenever I smelled it, it reminded me of her.

  “I’m good now. I haven’t slept in two years, but tonight I’ll sleep like a baby.” She smiled. I believed her when she said she hadn’t been sleeping. She was a great mom and she wasted a lot of time worrying about me.

  I gave her a hug and asked, “Want me to drive?”

  She laughed and said, “Get your ass in the passenger seat.” She was a sweet lady, but when she told you to put your ass somewhere, you did it.

  My mom made small talk on the way home. She was spouting a bunch of bullshit about all the people who were going to be so happy to see me. They all knew where I was the last two years. Yet it was only my mom there to visit on Sundays and holidays. If they had missed me even a little bit, they would have at least sent a letter or a card. I just let her talk though. It helped her to believe what she was saying. It helped her to believe there was some good left in my father and the rest of the “family.” It was delusional, but I wasn’t going to be the one to take that away from her.

  “Have you heard from Olivia?” my mom asked suddenly.

  “Nope. Last time I heard from Olivia was just before I went into court for my sentencing. What I heard from her was, ‘Dax, I don’t ever want to see you again.’ I have to give her credit; so far she’s stuck to her guns.”

  “She was scared, Dax. You were both so young.”

  “I haven’t heard from her. Not a word. She didn’t even come inside for the sentencing.”

  “Did you reach out to her? Did you try? You could have written to her or called her. She really loved you, Dax. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you. I’m sure that whatever changes she’s made in her life could be…readjusted.”

  “I’m not the same kid who went in. I was a thin, fresh-faced, respectable looking little kid back then, back when she told me she didn’t want to be with a guy who was doing time. She didn’t want to be with a felon. I look like an inmate now or at the very least, a hardcore member of the MC. Whether I was guilty or not, I’m a convicted felon and that will be with me forever. She’s not even going to see the same guy she used to see when she looked at me. She’s going to see a guy who did hard time every time she looks at one of my tattoos.”

  “It’s the man inside that counts, Dax.” My mother truly believed that and she must have seen something in my dad that I couldn’t see or she would have left him decades ago.

  “Let’s change the subject,” I told her.

  It was hard for me to think about Olivia. When I first got locked up it was all I did. I drove myself crazy thinking about her, wondering what she was doing…if she was moving on with her life.

  I fell in love with her the first time I saw her. I literally bumped into her my first day in college. I knocked her down, but she dusted herself off and laughed. After I helped her up, I realized how pretty she was. She had long, thick dark hair that hung down her back and big, deep brown eyes that a guy could get lost in and I did. I got lost in them and stayed lost in them, right up to the day
she told me she wasn’t going to wait for me. That she didn’t want to be with me any longer.

  “How’s dad?” I asked, desperately reaching for anything that would make me stop thinking about Olivia. The days of us being two carefree college students were long gone and we would never get them back. I learned the hard way that wishing things were different was never going to make it so.

  “Oh, well, you know your father,” she said. I had to smile. That was what she said every time I asked about him.

  Yes, unfortunately I did know my father. He was the president of his motorcycle club. I’m not talking about your Sunday afternoon guys who wear suits all week and need a little adventure type of club. I’m talking hardcore, we own and operate a bar up front but we deal in drugs and guns and anything else illegal but profitable in the back kind.

  The club members called themselves The Smokin’ Jokers and their “territory” stretched for miles along the northernmost part of Central California. I had grown up with it, around it, but once I was old enough to choose I had refused to take part in it. I had gone to college like my mom urged me to my entire life. She wanted me to move on, to get out. She didn’t want me to live my life the way my father did. I was searching for a better life for myself, but the fact that I was the son of the president got in the way of that…as it had countless times before.

  “Is he at the clubhouse right now?”

  “Probably. It’s a little after four; the bar will be getting busy for happy hour at five.”

  “Will you drop me there?” Don’t ask me why I wanted to go there, why I wanted to see him. I couldn’t have explained it if I tried. It must have been some weird DNA pull or something because there was really nothing about him that I liked or respected.