Fearing The Biker

by Cassie Alexandra

  “You always say that, but I don’t think you realize how much you do for me already,” I replied, uwrapping the box. “I mean, seriously, you’ve always been there for me and I couldn’t ask for much more than that, Mom.”

  “That’s what we mothers do,” she said.

  “Not every mother,” I said, thinking about the many conversations that I’d had with Adriana, about her husband Raptor. His mother had abandoned both of her sons and although she was trying to make amends, it was still hard for Raptor to let go of the past.

  “No, I suppose not,” she said, taking a sip of her drink.

  When I opened the small jewelry box, there was a beautiful bangle bracelet, with a circle in the middle that was made of tiny diamonds.

  “Oh my God, it’s beautiful,” I replied, taking it out of the box.

  She smiled proudly. “I know how much you used to love wearing bangles. We almost bought you a watch, but I saw this and it screamed your name. I hope you’ll wear it.”

  “Definitely. This is a gorgeous piece,” I said, although I hadn’t worn my other bangles in a long time. After being raped, three years ago, I still didn’t like to draw much attention to my skin or body. My therapist said that I just needed more time to heal. That things would get easier. Sometimes, I wasn’t so sure.

  “Adriana showed it to me. I guess it’s white-gold and those are real diamonds.”

  “I hope you didn’t spend too much on it.”

  “You’re worth it, honey, and don’t worry. Adriana gave us an exceptionally fair price for it. She’s such a nice girl.”

  I liked her, too. In fact, we’d gotten to be very good friends over the last three years. “She is and you both have wonderful taste.”

  “Put it on,” she said, her eyes dancing. I knew how much she loved jewelry herself.

  I put it on and thanked her again. “It’s beautiful, Mom. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. So,” she said, pulling a green olive out of her glass, “you’re going to be starting your residency, soon?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “In about a month.”

  “You must be excited?” she asked, before popping the olive into her mouth.

  I shrugged. “I’m a little nervous. I won’t lie.”

  “It’ll be fine,” she said, reaching over to pat my hand. “And although I’m a little sad, to see you moving so far away, it will give you a fresh start.”

  “Shoreview, Minnesota is not that far. Only about five hours.”

  She sighed. “Believe me – to a mother, it may as well be a continent away.”

  Fortunately, I’d be moving in with her cousin, Cheryl, who was an R.N. at the hospital where I was doing my residency. I’d used her as a reference, wanting to get away from Jensen, the biker world, and the memories that still haunted me. From what I understood, Shoreview was a nice, quiet suburb… free of gang influence, strongholds, and vendettas.

  I smiled. “At least you have Slammer to keep you company.”

  After I’d moved back home, Slammer and Frannie had gotten married and then he’d joined us. Although he spent a lot of time at his bar, Griffin’s, or the clubhouse, we were still walking all over each other in my mother’s townhouse. Although he never complained, I knew he was looking forward to them finally being alone.

  “I know and you’ll have Cheryl. She’s excited to have you move in. Ever since her husband, Earl, died, six years ago, she’s been very lonely.”

  “He died of a heart attack, didn’t he?” I asked, vaguely remembering him. I knew he’d smoked a lot of cigars and loved telling jokes.

  “Stroke, actually,” she replied, smiling grimly. “He was a nice guy. Made everyone laugh.”

  The waitress appeared with our food and we began to eat. She’d ordered a salad while I’d gotten a cheeseburger and fries.

  “That looks delicious,” she said, nodding toward my plate. “You’re lucky that you can eat what you want and not gain a pound.”

  “Why didn’t you order one of these? You’re not over-weight.”

  “The moment a cheeseburger hits my lips, I put on ten pounds and my cholesterol sky-rockets,” she said, pouring some kind of vinegary dressing onto her salad. “Wait until you’re my age. You’ll know what I mean.”

  I smiled at her. Many people said she looked more like my older sister and I had to admit that I was grateful for her genes. Both of us were around five-six, with dark blonde hair and hazel eyes. “You should still treat yourself, once in a while,” I replied, knowing that she spent a lot of time doing yoga and Pilates. She’d also quit smoking, a few months ago, and was now hounding Slammer to do the same.

  “Thanks, Honey. Still, once I cheat, I’m done for. I lost fifteen pounds, since last winter, and I know how easily it is to slip and gain it all back.”

  “I can tell. You look great.”

  “I was thinking about joining your kick-boxing class,” she said and then took a drink of water. “You’ve really toned up.”

  I’d noticed that my clothes had gotten looser, but hadn’t really thought about it. I’d been taking the weekly class more for the self-defense aspect. Not only did they teach you aerobics and kick-boxing, but they’d also incorporated some basic Tae kwon do moves. “It’s certainly an ass-kicker, but I love it. I’m going to miss the class when I’m gone.”

  “I’m sure there are other classes in Shoreview.”

  I nodded. “Actually, I was thinking of joining a Karate class.”

  Her face lit up. “That’s a great idea. If you need money for it, let me know. Those programs can get expensive.”

  “Thanks but, I can pay for it,” I replied. “I’ve been able to save quite a bit, since you let me move back home.”

  “Good. You’re getting paid for the residency, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, thankfully.”

  “That’s what I thought. How is your car running?”

  I shrugged. “Fair.”

  Her lips pursed. “Fair? How many miles are on it?”

  “I don’t know. Somewhere over one-hundred-thousand,” I replied, a little embarrassed that I hadn’t been keeping track.

  “You’ve been getting the oil changed when needed?”

  “When is it needed?”

  Her mouth opened in shock.

  I laughed. “I’m kidding. Of course I have. Don’t worry about my car. I should get another couple of years out of it.”

  She sighed. “Why don’t you just take mine?”

  “No. You just purchased that thing last year and I doubt Slammer would be happy if you did. He paid for it, didn’t he?”

  “He wrote the check but said it was my car to do with what I will,” she said firmly. “I’m sure he’d understand if I gave it to you, Jessica. He adores you.”

  “Right,” I said dryly.

  “I know he’s a man of few words, but he really does. In fact, he’s just as proud of you as I am. Tank as well. He thinks of you as his little sister and is always asking about you.”

  I had to admit, Tank, as intimidating as he was to everyone else, had a soft spot and was one of the only guys that I truly trusted. Of course, we weren’t dating either. That helped. “Still, that Lacrosse was expensive. I don’t need something like that, although I appreciate the offer.”

  “Well, if that car gives you any trouble at all, you call me and we’ll get it taken care of. Or, just buy you a new one.”

  “Thanks Mom.”

  “Hopefully, it won’t conk out on the way to Minnesota.”

  I grunted. “Hopefully.”

  Just then, her cell phone went off. She picked it up and checked her messages.

  “Who is it?” I asked, noticing the smile on her face.

  “Slammer. He’s here.”

  “At home?”

  “I mean he’s here. At the restaurant. With Tank.”

  I stared at her in confusion. “I thought he was still in California?”

  She giggled. “So did I. Come on,” she said, slidin
g out of her booth.

  “Where? We have to finish our food,” I replied, staring at her in confusion.

  “He wants us to meet him in the parking lot.”

  “Why?”

  She grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the booth. “I’m not sure. We’ll be right back,” she told the waitress.

  “Oh, okay,” replied the waitress, looking a little doubtful.

  Chapter Three

  Two hours after the explosion in Salt Lake City, I stepped onto a commercial plane headed toward my cabin in Anchorage, Alaska. As I buckled myself into First Class, a beautiful woman sitting across the aisle from me, made eye contact.

  Recognizing her from a previous flight, I smiled and then grabbed my Ipod, to listen to music. The last thing I wanted was to get into a long conversation with her. She’d been annoying as all hell the last time we’d flown together.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked, flipping her long red hair over her shoulder.

  I feigned ignorance. “We’ve met?”

  I wasn’t at all surprised that she remembered me. The last time I’d seen her, she’d been arguing with her husband, who’d been flirting with one of the flight attendants. It had been over a year ago and both of them had been slightly drunk. To strike back, she’d started coming on to me, after I’d left my seat to use the bathroom. I’d ignored her advances, finding them petty and childish.

  “Yes. I’m Tami, by the way. My Ex and I were flying to Anchorage, last year, for my sister’s wedding.”

  “Oh, that was your Ex-husband?”

  She smiled with delight, realizing that I had remembered her. “Well, we were married then, but not anymore. Our divorce finalized last week and now I’m off to visit my sister again.”

  “Sorry to hear that it didn’t work out.”

  “I’m not. He was an asshole.”

  I chuckled. “Well then, congratulations.”

  “Thank you. So, do you live in Alaska?”

  “Just visiting,” I lied.

  Her eyes swept over my black, leather vest and tats. “Are you one of those motorcycle club bikers?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  She grinned. “You have that look about you. Plus,” she pulled out a book from her purse. There was a picture of a biker on the front cover with a chick straddling his Harley. “I guess you could say that I’m a little obsessed right now.”

  “Obsessed, huh?” I smiled. “Sorry to disappoint. I do own a motorcycle but I’m not affiliated with any clubs.”

  She began undressing me with her eyes. “Something tells me that nothing about you would disappoint.”

  ***

  An hour later, Tami was on her knees and giving me head in the bathroom.

  “I wish there was more room in here,” she murmured, between sucks. “I want you so badly.”

  I squeezed her left breast through the fabric of her blouse, which was obviously fake, but still very nice. “I want you, too,” I whispered, ready to explode as her mouth worked the head of my cock. “Jesus, that feels good.”

  Tami stopped sucking. “Take your glove off,” she said, raising her top and pulling her breast out of her lacy black bra. “I want to feel your hand on my skin.”

  “How about my tongue, instead?” I asked, bending down to taste her nipple.

  “Mm…” she said, taking my hand. She placed it under her skirt. “I’m so wet. I need to come. Rub my clit.”

  Not having felt a woman’s mound for so long, I pulled the glove off and slid my hand under her panties. She was so wet and ready, my cock ached to slip inside.

  “Oh, yes,” she gasped, gyrating against my hand as I fingered her. “I wish I could sit on your face.”

  Needing to silence her, I began kissing her on the lips while my fingers strummed her clit. She came within seconds and then pushed my wrist away.

  “Sorry. I’m ticklish after I come. Oh my God,” she said, grabbing my hand again. She stared at the scars on my skin, where Acid had burned me. “What’s wrong with your hand?”

  The revulsion on her face made me instantly soft. I pulled my hand away from her. “Nothing’s wrong with it. I just made you come, didn’t I?”

  Sensing the mood change, she laughed nervously. “Yes. I’m sorry about your hand. I wasn’t expecting that. I guess now I can see why you wear the gloves. Is your other hand scarred, too?”

  “Not as bad,” I said, turning on the faucet, so I could wash her smell from my fingers, which was suddenly making me ill.

  “Oh, well… it’s not a big deal,” she said, touching my shoulders. “The rest of you is more than perfect.”

  The more she talked, the more I understood why she was now single.

  “My Ex is a cosmetic surgeon. Have you ever thought about having reconstructive surgery on your hands?”

  “No,” I said firmly.

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s my reminder of everything that’s fucked up with the world,” I said, stiffening up as her hand went back down to my fly.

  “Oh, you’re not hard anymore,” she pouted, slipping her hand into my underwear. “Turn around and I’ll finish you off. Maybe you can make me come again, too.”

  “Nah. I think we should just get out of the can and let someone else use it,” I said, pushing her hand away. I zipped up my jeans and buttoned them.

  “It’s okay. My friend is one of the flight attendants. She’s keeping an eye on the door and directing people away. Come on, baby. Let me suck it. I’ve never even seen one as big as yours before. What are you, nine inches?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “I bet you are. It’s huge.” She smiled wickedly. “Can I take a picture of it? Show my sister? She’d never believe that any of this happened on the plane.”

  “Sorry, he’s camera-shy,” I said, pulling the glove back onto my hand.

  Her smile fell as she stared at my hand again; her eyes filled with pity. “Damn. That must have hurt like hell.”

  A mental image of Acid tying my hands down and then pouring the scalding liquid popped into my head. It had hurt so goddamn bad that I’d passed out. It didn’t hold a candle to the abuse Acid had carved on the inside, however. Even now, years after his death, there was no relief from the nightmares that still haunted me.

  “Actually, Hell would have been easier,” I said, opening up the door and walking away.

  Chapter Four

  “I don’t get why he doesn’t just come into the restaurant? Is there some kind of a problem?” I asked, following her toward the exit.

  She smiled brightly. “Not at all. It’s a surprise.”

  “A surprise?” I repeated, wondering what this was all about.

  “Yes. What a beautiful day it’s turning out to be.”

  It was the middle of June, and the sun was warm and bright as we stepped outside. I grabbed my sunglasses from my purse and slipped them on as I followed her.

  “It’s nice,” I agreed. It was the kind of day where I wished we had our own pool. I used to love swimming and had spent a lot of time at the one at my old apartment complex. Back when I lived with my roommate, before the ‘incident’.

  “They’re they are,” she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the end of the parking lot, where Tank and Slammer were waiting.

  “Hi,” I said, as we approached.

  “Hey, Jessica,” said Tank, who was leaning against a bright, red Mustang, his tanned biceps folded under his chest. “How’ve you been?”

  “Great,” I replied, admiring the car. I wondered if they’d picked it up in California. “Wow, nice ride.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told, darlin’,” said Tank with a wicked grin.

  I rolled my eyes. “The car, Loverboy.”

  “He’s such a meat-head,” said Slammer. He stepped over and gave me an awkward hug. “Congratulations on passing your nursing exam, Jess.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, as he patted my back.

  “Yeah,” said
Tank. “A nurse. That’s great. The only thing that I really know about nursing is…” He laughed. “Hell, who am I kidding? I know nothing. I don’t even nurse my beers.”

  I smiled. “You goon.”

  Slammer rolled his eyes. “And you wanted to be a comedian when you were a kid. Glad I talked you out of it.”

  “I wouldn’t call what you did ‘talking me out of it’,” said Tank, smirking. “If I remember correctly, you said that the only thing funny about me were my farts.”

  “No, what I said is that your jokes would clear a room faster than a fart,” said Slammer.

  “Don’t listen to him. I think you’re funny,” said Mom, sliding her arm through Tank’s. “And you can be whatever you want. There’s still time.”

  “What are you talking about? He’s already living the dream. Gold Viper V.P. is nothing to whine about,” said Slammer. “And as far as the future goes, one day he’ll inherit the bar and my status.”

  “I’m definitely not whining,” said Tank.

  “So, what’s going on?” I asked, worried that the waitress was going to think we’d stiffed her.

  Smiling, Slammer pulled out a key from his leather vest and held it out. “Here. For you.”

  I stared at him in confusion as my hand wrapped around the key fob. “What is this for?”

  “It’s a graduation gift,” he said, turning to the Mustang. “What do you think?”

  “Oh, Slammer!” squealed Mom, clapping her hands together. “How wonderful!”

  My breath caught in my throat, as I stared at the gorgeous car, with its glossy red paint and shiny rims. “Hold on a second, are you saying that this car is for me?”

  He took off his sunglasses. “It sure is. This baby is safe and reliable. Not like that piece of shit you’re driving now.”

  As excited as I was, I knew I couldn’t accept such an expensive gift. “The car is gorgeous. It really is. But… I can’t let you give it to me,” I said, holding the key back out toward him. “It’s too much.”

  “No, no, no... It’s yours, darlin’. Bought and paid for,” said Slammer, waving it away.

  “Seriously, I love the thought, but I just can’t accept something like this.”