Fearing The Biker

by Cassie Alexandra

  “You can accept it and you will,” he said firmly. “Now, go sit inside and enjoy it because it’s going to be your new best friend for a while.”

  “He’s right and if you don’t accept the gift, he’ll take it as an insult,” said Tank, chewing on a toothpick.

  “But-”

  “No buts. It’s a gift from your mother and me. To you. We want you to have a reliable set of wheels. This one is a beaut, and you deserve it,” said Slammer, a determined look on his face. “Now, you can say ‘no’ all you want, but this baby is yours and there’s nothing you can do about it. Hell, your name is already on the title.”

  Seeing the way his jaw was set, I threw my arms around Slammer and this time, gave him a hug. “Thank you,” I said, my eyes filling with tears.

  He patted my back. “You’re welcome. Now, why don’t you go and take it for a spin?”

  “Wait,” said my mother. “We need to get back inside before the waitress calls the cops. We haven’t paid for our food.”

  “Just what we’d need,” said Tank, smirking. “To get arrested for not paying a bar tab. That would be humiliating.”

  “No shit,” said Slammer, looking toward the restaurant. “I’m fucking starved. You don’t mind if we join you, do you?”

  “Of course we don’t mine,” said Frannie. “Afterward, Jessica can try out her new car.”

  “Sounds like a plane,” said Slammer, slipping his arm around her waist. “Let’s go eat. Hope the food is better than what they’re serving at Griffin’s. That new cook I hired just can’t get his shit right. Hamburgers are over-cooked and the wings taste like road-kill. I tell you, I just can’t win.”

  “I volunteered to help you out,” said Frannie. “You know I make the meanest burgers in town.”

  “I know but I don’t want you down there. We already talked about this,” he said as we entered the building.

  “I don’t mind strippers,” she said.

  “It’s not the strippers I’m worried about,” mumbled Slammer. “It’s some of the dirt-bags that walk through the door. They see you and try getting down your pants.”

  She laughed. “You’re so full of it.”

  “No, I’m serious. You’re beautiful. Isn’t she, Tank?”

  “Yep,” he said as we slid into the booth. “Hell, you and Jessica could pass for sisters.”

  Blushing, she waved her hand. “Oh, you two…”

  “Mom, they’re right. You look too young to be forty-five.”

  “You’re forty-five?” said Tank, winking. “No. I thought you were in your thirties.”

  “If I was I wouldn’t have a daughter as old as Jessica.”

  “Sure you would,” said Tank. “Some of the girls who hang out at the clubhouses have moms in their thirties.”

  “They legal?” asked Slammer, frowning.

  “They’re all over eighteen,” said Tank. “Don’t worry about it, Old Man. I’m keeping track of shit.”

  “I do worry about it. I don’t want any minors down there.” He turned to Frannie. “I’m not around at night, so sometimes things get out of hand.”

  “Whatever. Nothing has been getting out of hand,” mumbled Tank, as the waitress walked up to us. Noticing that she was pretty, he gave her a flirtatious smile. “Hey there, darlin’. Can I get a menu and a cold beer?”

  “Certainly. Bottled or tap?” she asked, staring at his arms.

  “Bottle.”

  “Wow, I love your tats,” she said, flipping her hair back. “I just got one myself.”

  “You did? Where?” he asked, his eyes moving up and down her uniform.

  She backed away and turned her sandal, giving us a glimpse of the rose on her ankle. “I’m starting off small.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” he replied. “When you want something bigger, you should call me.”

  “Why, are you a tattoo artist?”

  “Oh, were we still talking about tattoos?” he asked, with a wicked grin.

  The waitress burst out laughing. “You’re a handful, aren’t you?”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “Call me and you’ll find out, sweetheart.”

  I snorted.

  “Jesus Christ. I can’t take you anywhere,” said Slammer, taking out a vapor cigarette from his pocket. “Sorry, Hon. I’ve been trying to train him, but he piddles out of his mouth everywhere he goes.”

  Tank flipped him off.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I think it’s cute. Here,” she said, writing down her phone number on a napkin. “Call me sometime. If you want.”

  “Oh, I want,” he said, taking it from her.

  “Great. I look forward to hearing from you. I’ll give you a few minutes to decide what you want to eat,” she said, putting her pen into her apron.

  “I’m thinking pie,” he said, rubbing his lower lip with his index finger. “Can I get a slice of you to go?”

  “Tank, oh my God,” I gasped, laughing. I looked at the waitress. “Sorry. Slammer is right; we really can’t take him anywhere.”

  “Um, I’ll be back,” she said, backing away, her cheeks red.

  “Weren’t you just with Rhonda this morning?” asked Slammer, when she was out of earshot.

  “Yeah. So?” he said, opening up the menu. “She’s just a sweet-butt anyway.”

  “A what?” I asked, frowning.

  “It’s a groupie,” said my mother dryly.

  I raised my eyebrows. “You guys have groupies?”

  “Yeah. Women love us,” said Tank.

  My mom opened her mouth to say something, when Slammer put his arm around her shoulders. “They love the boys, which is good because the only groupie I want or need is you, Babe.”

  “He’s right. Everyone knows you’re the new Queen, Frannie. In fact,” said Tank. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get together with some of the other Old Ladies. Get to know them a little bit more.”

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” she said, smiling. “We’re having a poker party on Friday night. Most of the girlfriends and wives are showing up.”

  “Really? Why didn’t hear about that,” I said, not exactly thrilled with the idea. Although I liked Adriana, some of the others seemed almost as intimidating as the men in their lives.

  “I was going to bring it up, but then these guys showed up with the big surprise. You’ll join us, won’t you?” she asked me.

  “Uh, sure,” I said, knowing I’d be home anyway. “Is Adriana going to be there?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “Raptor is staying home with Sammy. It will be good for him.”

  “Guess I’ll be hanging out with you, Friday night,” said Slammer to Tank.

  “You know it’s Fight-night,” said Tank.

  “Even better,” said Slammer.

  I leaned my chin against my hand. “Okay. What’s that all about?”

  Tank smirked. “Some friendly fisticuffs, partying, music, and babes.”

  “What do you mean by ‘friendly fisticuffs’?” I asked, intrigued.

  “Two guys get into a ring and some punches are thrown until one gets the better of the other. It’s all in good fun,” said Slammer.

  “Is that legal?” asked Frannie, looking concerned.

  “Nothing for you to concern yourself with, Hon,” said Slammer. “It’s just a bunch of guys having fun. What we do with our money is our own business, anyway.”

  “Yeah,” said Tank. “The cops usually turn their cheeks on events like this, and some even show up to watch. It’s all in good fun.”

  “Oh, okay,” she said, relaxing.

  Something told me that it was much more than that, but as long as she wasn’t going to be involved in any way, I wasn’t about to ask any more questions either.

  “When you leaving for Minnesota, Jess?” asked Tank.

  “In two weeks,” I replied.

  “You run into any problems out there, you call us,” said Slammer, reaching over to grab one of my fries.

  “What do you mean?” I
asked. “Is there something that I should be concerned about?”

  He grinned. “Relax, Sweetheart. I’m talking about money or whatever else that might come up.”

  I relaxed. For a second I was worried he was talking about club stuff. “Oh, okay.”

  “But,” he said, pointing to me. “You’re still an attractive, single girl in a new city. If anyone rubs you the wrong way, don’t hesitate to call one of us. We’ll take care of anything that needs taking care of. You got it?”

  I nodded. I was both flattered but hesitant to take him up on the offer. I knew what had happened to the man that had raped me. I’d heard the whispers and had watched the news. He was dead. Admittedly, I was relieved to know that he couldn’t harm me or anyone else again, but I was also worried about my mother. If Slammer was involved with anything else illegal, and was caught, it would destroy her. She’d be heart-broken if he ended up in prison.

  “Yeah. We’re family,” said Tank. “We protect our own. That includes the women in our lives.”

  I thought about how Tank’s girlfriend had been murdered and how Adriana had been kidnapped, and found his words ironic, considering their fates. It was their affiliation with the Gold Vipers that had put the girls in danger in the first place. Not to mention my own attack by a rivaling club member. None of that had been coincidental.

  “I’ll be fine, but I appreciate the offer,” I said.

  My mother cleared her throat. “We’re following you out there.”

  “To Shoreview? Why?”

  “Make sure that your move goes smoothly,” said Slammer.

  “Why wouldn’t it?” I asked, feeling anxious again.

  “Relax,” he said, smiling. “Your mother’s a little nervous about you moving out of state.”

  Frannie smiled. “He’s right, but only because I’m going to miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you, too, but there’s no need to chaperone me,” I said.

  “It would be nice to see Cheryl again,” she replied.

  “Cheryl was just out here two weeks ago,” I said, smirking. “Mom, I’ll be fine and, to be honest, I think I need to do this by myself.”

  “But-”

  “I agree,” said Slammer. “And I told your mother that, too. Not that I don’t want to take a road trip. I love them, especially this time of year, but this will be good for you.”

  “What about those Devil’s Rangers?” she asked.

  “Babe, I told you before, Mud is gone and the rest of their chapter is no longer a threat,” said Slammer in a low voice.

  “How do you know for certain?” she asked.

  He was silent.

  “Slammer?”

  He sighed. “Because most of them are no longer above ground,” he said. “And from what I’ve heard from some of my sources, their Mother Chapter isn’t interested in revenge.”

  “They’re just brushing it off?” asked Frannie. “That’s a little surprising, isn’t it?”

  “Let’s just say that Mud and Breaker won’t exactly be missed by anyone in the Devil’s Rangers,” said Slammer. “They’d made a lot of enemies, even in their own club.”

  “I guess that doesn’t surprise me,” I mumbled, wishing they’d change the subject. Just hearing the name ‘Breaker’ made my skin crawl. He was dead but for me, never forgotten.

  “See, there’s nothing to worry about,” said Tank, looking at me with a smile.

  “Of course that great news,” said Frannie, her shoulders relaxing. “But, I would still like us to follow you out there.”

  I sighed. “Mom…”

  “Just me and Slammer,” she answered. “It will be fun. We’ll grab a bite to eat on the way and check out some of the antique shops. Slammer, have you ever visited Stillwater, Minnesota?”

  “Can’t say I have,” he replied.

  “Oh, you’ll love it. Cheryl and her late husband once owned a slip in the St. Croix River, and we used to have so much fun on it. This was before you were born, Jessica.”

  “Obviously,” I replied, having never been to Stillwater myself. “Is it near Shoreview?”

  “Yes, it’s only about thirty miles away. We’re going to have so much fun,” she said, looking excited now. “Would you like to join us, Tank?”

  “Antiquing?” he asked with a smirk.

  “Yes and we could do some sightseeing. In fact, we should drive all the way up to the North Shore,” she said.

  “Thanks for the invite, but I’m going to pass,” said Tank. “Someone needs to look after the bar while you’re gone.”

  “Bullshit. Raptor can keep an eye on things while were gone. Or one of the others,” said Slammer. “I’m not going to be the only one suffering through antiquing.”

  “Nonsense. You’re going to love it,” said Frannie, glowing with excitement now. “You just never know what kind of treasure you’ll find in an antique store. Cheryl once picked up a vase that was later valued at five-hundred dollars. She only paid twenty-five for it.”

  “I’m sure that’s a rare occurrence. To be honest, thrift and antique stores aren’t my thing,” said Slammer. “But, I’ll take you wherever you want to go, Darlin’.”

  “Thanks, Hon,” she replied, kissing him on the cheek. “And keep an open mind. You might just have a lot of fun. You too, Tank.”

  “Speaking of fun, how are the women in Minnesota?” he asked.

  “There won’t be time for that,” interrupted Slammer, as his cell phone went off. “We’re only staying one night.”

  “Who’s that?” asked Frannie, as he began to scowl.

  “A Prospect. What the fuck does he want?” he mumbled before answering. “This better be important, Dutch. What’s up?”

  I couldn’t understand what Dutch was saying, on the other end of the phone, but Slammer suddenly looked angry as hell.

  “Fuck,” he snarled, pounding his fist on the table, startling all of us. He got up and walked away from the booth, still listening to whatever the Prospect was saying.

  “I wonder what that’s about?” asked Frannie, looking worried.

  “Don’t know,” said Tank, standing up. “I’ll go and make sure everything’s okay, though.”

  “Thanks,” said Frannie.

  After he walked away I sighed. “Sounds like club business. Hope it’s nothing… illegal.”

  “It shouldn’t be,” she said, although her own eyes were full of doubt.

  Chapter Five

  I took a cab to my cabin, which was on Sand Lake. When I arrived, I started a load of laundry, took a shower, and went for a motorcycle ride, relieved to be back in Anchorage.

  As I started my Harley and took off, I began to let go of the last few hours, enjoying the wind in my face and the freedom of the open road. Fortunately, it was close to dinner time and the traffic was light, making it that much more enjoyable.

  I cruised for about an hour and then decided to head back, stopping at a gas station to fill my tank. As I was putting my credit card back into my wallet, my cell phone rang. It wasn’t a number I recognized.

  “Hello?”

  “Judge?” It was Slammer.

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “I hate to bother you, brother, but we’ve got some problems back here in Jensen. I think we’re going to need your help.”

  “What kind of problems?”

  He sighed. “I know you weren’t close to your mother, but… Jesus Christ, I’ll just say it - she’s been murdered. I’m sorry, Son.”

  “You sure it was murder?” I asked, feeling more numb, than anything. “Not a heart attack, stroke, or drug over-dose?”

  “It was murder. She was shot.”

  “Did she owe her drug dealer money?”

  “Nah. Raptor said she’d been clean for the last couple of years and I’ve run into her a few times. She was doing pretty well, as far as I could tell.”

  “Maybe she had a relapse?”

  “It’s always possible, I guess. There will be an autopsy, so we’ll know
for sure if there were any drugs involved.”

  “Who found her?”

  “Her roommate did, early this morning.”

  “I suppose Raptor wants to know who did it and that’s where I come in.”

  “You got it.”

  I sighed. “He should hire a private detective.”

  “Don’t you want to find out who did it, too? She was your mother.”

  “To be honest, I don’t really care.”

  “Raptor seems to think she was killed because of Mud and Breaker.”

  “That thing with the Devil’s Rangers, three years ago?” I’d been commissioned by Slammer to kill two members of a rival club - Breaker, for raping Slammer’s step-daughter, and their club president, Mud, for kidnapping Raptor’s wife. “Why would they go after Mavis, though?”

  “Revenge. They now know she’s your mother.”

  “Guess they won’t get the reaction they anticipated from me,” I replied as an attractive woman pulled up to the pump next to mine. She got out of her car and stared at me. I smiled at her and turned away.

  “Raptor is pretty shaken up, though,” said Slammer. “They’d gotten close, the past few months.”

  My younger step-brother, Trevor, A.K.A. Raptor, had been much more forgiving toward Mavis. Of course, he’d had her in his life for thirteen years. She hadn’t even given me six months before taking off and leaving me with Acid.

  “If it has to do with the Devil’s Rangers, you should be able to handle this on your own,” I said.

  “You’d think, but the Feds are watching us,” mumbled Slammer. “I can’t get us involved.”

  Same old song and dance. “Why this time?”

  He lowered his voice. “They got wind of some bogus arm’s deal that went down last summer. Can’t pin anything on us, but that doesn’t stop them from trying.”

  “Obviously, you weren’t involved in an arm’s deal,” I said dryly.

  “Of course not,” he replied, a smile in his voice. “I run a biker club and a strip joint. I know nothing about running guns.”

  “Why don’t you just let the cops handle this thing with Mavis?”

  “They’re already looking into it but you and I both know that it’s not going to go anywhere.” He sighed. “Truth is… I’m worried about Raptor. He’s talking about taking matters into his own hands. Now that he has a kid, he can’t be doing that shit. He’ll get himself killed.”