by Chiah Wilder
No … he couldn’t risk getting involved with Sofia while she was still with Tigger. And the fact she was still with the fucker pissed the hell out of Wheelie. There’s no way she doesn’t know I want her. It seemed like Sofia enjoyed the attention he gave her but still loved Tigger. Wheelie couldn’t understand how she could stay with someone who hurt her, but then he never comprehended that with his sister, either. All Kendra ever told him when he’d bring it up was that she loved Russ. Years ago, Wheelie had accidentally walked into the bathroom while she was still using it, a towel wrapped around her, and he’d been shocked at all the black and blue marks covering her body. He was only fifteen at the time, but he didn’t buy her excuse of falling down the gym stairs at school. Kendra told him not to tell Mom, so he’d kept quiet, but the rage and hatred he felt for Russ began on that day.
“You going back to the club?” Rags asked, dragging Wheelie back from the past.
“I was thinking of it.” That night Wheelie needed to be around his brothers; he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts of Sofia and Kendra. “A few shots and a game of poker sounds good.” Wheelie had every intention of getting shitfaced even though he knew he’d regret it in the morning when he had to drag his hungover ass over to the car wash.
“Did you mention a poker game?” Blade asked as he came over. “I’m in. Skeet will be too.”
Ruben came over and clapped Wheelie on the shoulder. “I’m coming by tomorrow with my truck. It needs detailing. Can I get it back in a couple of days?”
“For you, dude, I’ll have it back in a day.”
Ruben’s old lady, Doris, grabbed her man’s hand. “I can follow you and get my car washed.” She ran her gaze up and down Wheelie’s body then settled on his face. “Sofia looked pretty tonight, don’t you think?”
“What the fuck kind of question is that, woman?” Ruben said gruffly. “Sofia’s Tigger’s old lady, so none of the brothers are looking at her.”
“All men look at pretty women whether they’re taken or not,” Doris replied, her eyes still on Wheelie’s.
“Let’s go.” Ruben yanked her toward the door. “See you in the morning, bro,” he said to Wheelie as he walked away.
“Doris is a meddling bitch,” Rags said. “She loves stirring the fuckin’ pot. Watch yourself, bro.”
Wheelie rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s nothing to watch.”
“You know what I mean,” Rags said in a low voice. “It’s probably better that you stay away from Sofia. The way you looked at her tonight, you’re just asking for all kinds of trouble. No chick’s worth that.”
Even though Wheelie knew Rags was right it irked the shit out of him, and licks of anger burned down his spine. “I don’t need any fuckin’ advice on how to live my damn life from you, Throttle, or any other brother. If Doris gets in my business, I’ll make sure she regrets it. End of fuckin’ discussion.”
“What’s going on, dude?” Throttle asked as he sidled up to Wheelie. “You look pissed as hell.”
“Doris is yapping her fuckin’ mouth again and trying to stir the damn pot,” Rags replied.
Throttle jerked his head back. “What about? I’m figuring by the way you look, it has something to do with you,” he said, looking at Wheelie.
“It’s nothing. You know Doris is famous for trying to make some drama. Look at the shit she started between Hawk and Cara last December.” Wheelie folded his arms across his chest.
“What’s she saying about you?” Throttle took a gulp of his beer. “Wait … I bet it’s shit about Sofia.”
“You guessed it,” Rags said.
“The bitch wants to light fire where there isn’t any, and Sofia’s gonna get the worst of it if Tigger hears any of her bullshit. That asshole listens to everyone but Sofia.” Wheelie’s jaw tightened as he ground his teeth.
“Talk to Ruben about it, and back the fuck away from Sofia,” Throttle said.
“Are you ready to go home?” Kimber asked as she ran her fingernails up and down Throttle’s arm. She glanced at Wheelie. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” he said.
“We can head out.” Throttle grasped her hand and pulled her close to him. “We’ll talk later, bro,” he said to Wheelie then looked at Rags. “Are you going to handle the job at the Pederson’s tomorrow morning, or did you want me to go?”
“I’m doing it. I’m taking Mike, Pablo, and Stanley with me.”
“Okay. I’ll take the rest of the crew to work on the new project at Morning Side townhomes.”
“Congrats on getting the landscaping job there,” Wheelie said.
“Thanks. It’s gonna keep us busy all summer and fall. I gotta earn the bucks to buy my woman a new Harley.” Throttle laughed then kissed Kimber on the top of her head. “I’ll see you around,” he said as he and Kimber walked away.
A yearning tinged with melancholy seized Wheelie as he watched Throttle and Kimber—arms wrapped around each other’s waists—amble toward Throttle’s bike. Wheelie had thought that by staying away from Sofia it would make his feelings for her fade, but when he’d seen her, he realized that the emotions he’d tried to suppress were smoldering embers that still had the power to start a forest fire. Dammit! He didn’t want to care about her, and as hard as he tried to erase all thoughts of her from his mind and his life, he couldn’t. Sofia lived in his dreams and his musings, and that fact angered the hell out of him. I don’t have time to care for her. I need to stop this pansy shit and move the fuck on.
“I’ll see you at the clubhouse,” Rags said as he and Blade walked past Wheelie.
He lifted his chin at the two men and shoved his hand in his pocket to fish out his keys. A strong scent of citrus wafted around him, and he turned to his left. The woman who’d been chatting him up earlier stood there smiling at him. Wheelie wracked his brain but couldn’t remember her name. He nodded his head at her.
“Tiffany,” she said, taking a few steps toward him. “You look like you’re ready to leave.” She glanced at the keys in his hand.
“Yeah. Are your friends still here?”
“They’re getting ready to leave. I guess I am too unless you want to have a drink together.”
Wheelie ran his eyes over her quickly: nice shape, decent tits, cute face. Tiffany was someone he should hang out with tonight, but he wasn’t in the mood for small talk, although he suspected that she’d be fine with just a few hours of hard fucking. His dick stirred slightly; it had been a while since it’d had any action inside a woman.
“So, what do you say?” Tiffany batted her lashes.
“I’m meeting some friends.” He rocked back on the heel of his boots.
Disappointment streaked her face. “That’s too bad. I was hoping you’d give me a ride on your Harley. I’m guessing you have one.”
“You guessed right.” Wheelie pointed to his bike. “It’s the red one there. I gotta get going.”
“Maybe another time?” She dug through her purse then handed him a card. “Give me a call sometime. I just love Harleys and the men who ride them. I like everything fast and on the edge, if you know what I mean.” Throwing him a seductive smile, she winked.
He glanced down at the card she gave him: Tiffany Vanorshen, Overpayment Specialist, Department of Social Services. Another groupie who wants to fuck a biker. Wheelie would throw her card into a box filled with others that he’d accumulated from women who wanted a fling with the wild side of life. A lot of citizen women who probably lived by the rules gravitated toward him in search of an escape from their day-to-day responsibilities. Sometimes Wheelie would hook up with them and indulge in their fantasies of hard sex and fast riding, but after a couple of women fell completely in love with him, he made it a point to hook up only with the club girls or the hoodrats who came to the club parties. Hoodrats were women who sought the warmth of a pair of strong arms around them while they engaged in a no strings attached relationship. The women were in it for the excitement, and Wheelie was in it f
or the sex and companionship. When the lust had run its course, he’d move on without any drama from the woman.
“I hope to hear from you soon,” Tiffany said softly, her eyes bright as they stared at him.
His gut twisted. She’s the type to fall hard. No fuckin’ way. Wheelie shoved the card into his pocket. “I gotta go.” Without a backward glance, he strode out of the bar and headed toward his bike.
As soon as he pulled out of the parking lot, the cool breeze sweeping over his face brought him back to the times when he’d driven Sofia to the state pen to see Tigger. They’d talk or listen to music with the wind blowing around them. Sofia loved fresh air and she’d always asked him to roll down the windows. A strong craving for her to be behind him on his bike grabbed hold of him, making the empty spot inside him ache. Without thinking, Wheelie veered past the clubhouse, taking a back road around the canyon. He needed to clear his head and riding always did the trick. From the first time he’d ridden on a Harley at fifteen years old, he was hooked, and the ride had become his constant friend; it was the one thing in his life that never let him down.
Two hours later, Wheelie walked into the clubhouse, the sound of the television competing with the strains of a hard rock song resounded around him. He saw Blade, Rags, Skeet, Smokey, and Cruiser sitting around a table playing cards as he went over to the bar, holding up two fingers to the prospect, Skinless. The man with the shaved head and tats running down his arms and neck handed a double shot of Jack to Wheelie. He picked up the glass and headed over to the table.
“Did you score with that hot blonde?” Rags asked as he scooted his chair down to make room for Wheelie’s.
“The one with the tight as hell pants. Damn. She had an ass I’d like to smack,” Blade said, and the men around the table chuckled.
“She also had the look of being hard to get rid of after the fun ends.” Wheelie brought the glass to his mouth.
“Yeah, you don’t need any of that shit,” Smokey said. “You got a joint? Everyone here is out.”
Wheelie pulled one out of the inner pocket of his cut and handed it to Smokey. “I went for a ride. It was awesome.”
The men nodded in mutual understanding and nothing more needed to be said. The ride was everything, and whenever any one of them had the chance to hit the road on their bikes, they took it.
After taking another long slug, Wheelie held up his hand indicating that he wanted another double; Skinless came over in a flash. “So, who’s ahead and by how much?” Wheelie asked.
“Skeet is,” Rags said, motioning Skinless for another round for the table. “I’m down about five hundred fuckin’ bucks.”
“I’m out,” Cruiser said, laying his cards on the table. “You wanna take my place?” The chair scraped backwards, and the black-haired brother stood up. “I need some relaxation.” He walked over to Brandi, bent down, and kissed her deeply.
“He’s been eyeing her for the last half hour,” Smokey said as he scooped up the winnings.
After a few more games of poker, Skeet lifted his arms overhead and stretched then leaned back in the chair. “Hey, dude,” he called out.
Wheelie looked over his shoulder and saw Tigger walking toward the table, his arm snagged around Rosie’s waist. Poking a tongue lightly into his cheek, Wheelie inhaled a long breath.
“You guys got a poker game going on?” Tigger stopped at the table looking down at Skeet’s cards.
“I didn’t think you were coming by tonight,” Skeet said.
“I wanted some good pussy,” Tigger said, slapping Rosie’s behind. She giggled and curled her fingers around his bulging biceps.
Skeet chuckled and Wheelie pushed the table hard toward him. “Are you playing or fuckin’ talking?” he asked.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” A dark glow pervaded Skeet’s face while his eyes flashed then lowered to his cards.
The other men turned their gazes away from Tigger, and Smokey cleared his throat and slid forward several chips. “Raise twenty-five.”
Wheelie went through the motions of the game but his attention was on Tigger and how he was disrespecting Sofia. After several minutes Tigger and Rosie walked away, and Wheelie’s jaw unclenched. From the way Rags and Smokey looked at him, he knew they thought he was out of his damn mind. When Ruben or Billy fooled around with the club women, Wheelie figured it was their business and between them and their old ladies, but with Tigger, it was like a red-hot poker stabbing his gut every time he saw him getting a blow job or fucking one of the club girls.
“You gotta keep your cool, dude,” Rags said under his breath. Skeet briefly glanced over at them before laying his cards down. Skeet and Tigger were tight, especially since they’d spent several years together in the pen.
Wheelie bristled even though he knew Rags was right. The truth was that Wheelie didn’t have any say in Tigger and Sofia’s marriage, just like he didn’t in Ruben and Doris’s or Billy and Marlena’s. The fact that the old ladies seemed cool with their husbands’ occasional indiscretions made it seem all right. Maybe Sofia doesn’t care if Tigger fucks around. He scrubbed his face with his fists and pushed his chair back. I gotta stop thinking or caring about her. Antsy as hell, Wheelie stood up.
“Aren’t you gonna play another round?” Smokey asked as he shuffled he cards.
“Nah, I’m not into it. Later.” He lifted his chin and went over to the bar, motioning Skinless to bring him a beer. As he drank it, his gaze drifted to the corner of the room where Tigger sat on the couch and Rosie kneeled between his legs, his dick going in and out of her mouth while he played with her swaying tits. A sudden desire to hold Sofia close to him washed over Wheelie. Finishing his beer, he went out back and walked over to the river that ran behind the club’s property. Stooping down, he watched as the rushing water ran over the rocks, its turbulent flow mirroring the chaos of emotions inside him. He took out his phone and tapped in Sofia’s number.
“Hello?” she said tentatively.
“Hey,” he answered.
“Wheelie.”
He heard the smile in her voice. “I was just thinking of you.”
“How nice. I was thinking about you too.”
It took all the willpower he had to not get on his Harley and go to her. “I still owe you a bike ride.”
A small chuckle echoed through her. “You do. Maybe we can go when Tigger goes out of town in a couple of weeks. He’s going on another poker run with Skeet and Cruiser.” A small intake of breath. “He’ll be gone for six days.”
“Then it’s a date. You and me on my bike. We’ll go to Hanging Lake. Have you been there before?”
“No. I heard it’s beautiful and has the most amazing waterfall. I’d love to go.”
“We will. I promise. Did you have a good time tonight at Steeler’s?”
“Yes, but the best part was that you were there. I was happy to see you.”
“Me too.”
“Did you hook up with that blonde woman?”
Wheelie knitted his brows. “Blonde woman?”
“The one you were talking with at the bar.”
“Tiffany? No. Why?”
“I was just wondering. You seemed kinda into her.”
“I wasn’t. Would it bother you if I was?”
“No. I mean … maybe.” A small pause. “Yes,” she whispered.
Wheelie grinned. “I like that.”
“There you are, dude,” a man said behind him.
“That’s Tigger. I better go.” Panic entered her voice. “Thanks for calling.” Then there was silence.
Wheelie stood up and turned around just as Tigger came up to him. “I wanted to ask you something,” he said, stopping right in front of Wheelie. Tigger took out two joints and handed one to him. “What’s the name of that guy who has the chop shop in Balsam?”
“Sparks. You got a stolen car you wanna sell?” Wheelie lit the joint.
Tigger nodded. “Does he do bikes?”
“He might if it
’s a Honda or Yamaha.”
“Skeet and I picked up a bike and a car last night in Aspen. We need to sell them fast.”
“Tell him you know me.” Wheelie gave Tigger Sparks’ phone number, and he tapped it into his phone.
“Thanks, bro. I’ll call him now. We’re thinking to take the back roads over there after midnight.”
“Good luck.” Wheelie stubbed out the joint with the toe of his boot.
“You’ve been a good friend. Don’t think I didn’t appreciate all the times you helped Sofia out when I was locked up. I was glad I had a brother I could trust to watch over her.”
Fuck. “No worries. I’m heading out now … I’ll see ya.”
“Later, dude.”
The rocks crunched under Wheelie’s boots as he walked past the clubhouse. A heaviness he couldn’t shake weighed down on him as he straddled his Harley. Putting distance between him and Sofia would be the right thing to do, but as he sped along the desolate road under a darkened sky, the thought of not seeing her wasn’t an option.
And for one brief moment as the wind swirled around him carrying the hint of summer nights and moonlit rides, he didn’t care about anything but having Sofia pressed against him, holding him tight.
Fuck the consequences.
Chapter Three
Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window and Sofia welcomed the heat. The minute the weather grew warm, Tigger would crank up the air conditioner, and she’d spend the summer months wrapped in sweaters and blankets inside their home.