F*CKERS (Biker MC Romance Book 7)

by Scott Hildreth

  “I might tell you again. I love that little black dress. It does wonders for your already great ass.”

  I blushed a little. “Thank you, again.”

  “Look at this shit.” He motioned toward the center of the shop. “They’re dancing. Kind of.”

  I looked toward the makeshift dance floor. As Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get it On played over the speakers of the sound system, Deann held onto the arms of Bradley’s wheelchair, and they danced.

  She pushed him back and forth as he faced her, and then, she gripped one arm of the chair, and twisted it in a circle as she popped her hips to the beat of the music.

  “You mother’s a good dancer.”

  “Pop is, too,” he said. “It’s sad he can’t right now.”

  Dressed in his tuxedo, he was grinning from ear to ear. “I think he is. In his mind. Look at him.”

  Brad grinned. “He’s having a blast. I’m telling you, though. I was worried last week. That heart attack? I was afraid he wasn’t going to make it.”

  “I knew he would,” I said.

  “Oh, really?”

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  He shot me a look. “How?”

  “I think love is that strong.”

  He hugged me, and then gave me a kiss. “I think you might be right.”

  I watched them smiling at each other, and thought of how many years they’d been together. How many times they’d played Scrabble. Kissed. Held hands. Shared a meal. Shed a tear. Said, I love you, and, after all of those years, and all of those experiences, good and undoubtedly bad, they were still just as happy as they were when they met.

  “I am right,” I said.

  The song ended, and Bradley started looking around the crowd. His eyes met mine, and he motioned for me to come to him.

  “I’ll be back,” I said. “I’m being summoned.”

  I stepped in front of his wheelchair. “Need you to do two things for me, kid. Maybe three.”

  “Okay.”

  He curled the tip of his finger toward his cast. “Come here.”

  I braced myself on the arms of the chair, and leaned over him. “Yes?”

  “First one is this. I need you to tell Brad what the fourth most meaningful moment in a man’s life is.”

  “Fourth?” I wrinkled my nose and let out a laugh. “What are the first three?”

  “He knows ‘em. And, that’s why I’m telling you number four. Now he’ll have to tell you the first three. Number four most memorable moment in a man’s life is when your son and his soon to be wife plan a shindig like this. Thank you.”

  I stepped back and cocked my hip playfully. “Soon to be wife? You’re taking a few liberties with that statement, are you not?”

  He did his best to shrug. “I got a feeling about you two. Just tell him what I said.”

  “Okay. You said I needed to do three things. What are the other two?”

  “Number two is this. Dance with me.”

  I curtsied. “I’d love to.”

  As the song started, I leaned over him.

  “Don’t argue with me,” I said.

  “About?”

  “I’m going to pick you up. Just don’t flop around.”

  “But--”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “But nothing. I’ve been handling your old wrinkly penis and wiping your ass for over a month. You can let me do this. We’re going to dance. Just follow my lead.”

  I slipped the sling off of his left arm, and then slid my forearms under his armpits.

  I lifted him from the wheelchair. “Lean against me. I’ll hold you up. There’ll be no weight on your feet.”

  He did as I asked.

  “What’s this song?”

  “Jackson 5’s I’ll Be There,” he said.

  “I like it.”

  “I’ve always liked it,” he said. “Think that’s why Brad put it on this list.”

  Slowly and cautiously, we swayed back and forth to the music. I did the best I could, while making sure I kept his weight off the floor.

  In no time, my arms began to ache, as did my legs, and as much as I felt that each second might be my last, I somehow managed to make it to the end of the song.

  I stumbled to his chair, lowered him into it, and stood up.

  The crowd began to clap. Before long, everyone was clapping. And then, they began cheering.

  I leaned over and put his sling back on.

  “Take a bow, kid.”

  I performed another curtsy.

  “Kid, you made my night.”

  I nodded, still out of breath from our dance. “And you made…mine.”

  “The third thing…”

  I looked at him. “Yes.”

  “Make me a promise.”

  “Okay.”

  “Keep him safe,” he said.

  “Okaaaaay.”

  “I mean it. I saw what you did on the porch. Keep him out of trouble. I love that boy. I really do. Promise me you’ll keep him safe.”

  I stood there, fully knowing the promise would only be good for the amount of time that Brad allowed me to be a part of his life, and no longer.

  “It’s a tough one to make,” I said. “It depends a lot on him.”

  “Depends on you not giving up, too.”

  “Agreed. But I’m like you, Bradley. I’m stubborn.”

  “Well,” he said. “You don’t have to make it now. But when you’re ready, let me know. It’d mean a lot to me if you could keep an eye on him. I trust you, and I don’t trust many.”

  “I’ll think about it, and I’ll let you know,” I said.

  “Not until you’re ready.”

  “Go spend some quality time with the man you love,” he said. “I’m going to spend some with the woman I love.”

  I grinned and then turned around.

  Brad was standing in the same place. I walked up to him, gave him a kiss, and reached for his hand.

  “According to Bradley, the number four most memorable moment in a man’s life is when his son and his soon to be wife plan a shindig like this. I’m supposed to tell you that.”

  He nodded. “Soon to be wife, huh?”

  “That’s what he said.” I liked the thought of it, but I shrugged, so he wouldn’t think I was crazy.

  “What are the first three most memorable moments?” I asked.

  He took a long breath, let out a sigh and then reached for my other hand.

  He locked eyes with me. “Number one is when a man kisses the woman who will later be his wife for the first time. Number two is, when those two people get married. Number three is when those two people have a child. And number four, I guess, is when that child plans something like this.”

  I smiled a genuine smile. I didn’t want to, it just happened. “I love your dad.”

  “So do I.” he said.

  “Words of wisdom from Bradley’s vault,” I said. “I look forward to them.”

  “I’ve been hearing him spout wisdom for a lifetime,” he said. “But it’s just been about a month since I started listening to him.”

  I thought about what he said for a moment, and then I grinned.

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “So am I,” he said.

  Then he kissed me.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Pee Bee

  I laid in Tegan’s bed staring at the ceiling. Beside me, she slept, worn out from the night’s festivities.

  We’d been seeing each other for a month, and as insignificant as some might see that as being, I looked at it as a lifetime achievement.

  Because for me, it was.

  For whatever reason, I couldn’t sleep. Something was just off. I dismissed it as excitement, and then as my having recognized just how much I loved Tegan.

  I couldn’t tell her, at least not yet. I felt foolish for feeling the way I felt, but as my father said, when you know, you just know.

  He realized his love for my mother when they made love for the first time. I’m not so sure Teg
an didn’t convince me when we kissed for the first time.

  I’d never really kissed anyone like that, and although I had very little to compare it to, I didn’t need to liken it to anything to realize just how special that kiss actually was.

  All I needed to do was kiss her again to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.

  When I kissed her at her door, I knew.

  I really did.

  Now, I simply needed enough time to pass so I could tell her how I felt without her thinking I was some sentimental idiot.

  I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of passing cars, and tried to fall asleep.

  The sound of my ringing phone woke me up. Confused, groggy, and pissed off that someone was calling me in the middle of the night, I reached for my phone and stared at the screen.

  Mom and Dad

  I looked at the time in the corner of the screen.

  3:52 a.m.

  My heart sank.

  I swiped my thumb across the screen.

  “Hello?”

  After a few seconds of silence, my mother’s voice came over the phone.

  “Bradley?”

  She never called me Bradley, unless I was in trouble. I swallowed hard, afraid I really didn’t want to hear what she had to say. Visions of my father standing up, attempting to go to the bathroom, and breaking another ankle ran though my head.

  “Yeah?”

  “I need you to come home.”

  “Is everything alright?”

  “I need you to come home, Bradley. He’s gone.”

  I sat up in bed. “Who’s gone? What’s going on?”

  “Your father, Bradley. He’s left us.” She began to whimper, and after a moment, regained her composure.

  It took a moment for everything to register. I think my brain simply refused to process it. At the same time I realized what she had told me, she continued.

  “I need help getting him back into his chair. I don’t want the funeral home to see him like this.”

  She began to cry.

  My heart shot to my throat.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t.

  I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t form the words.

  I couldn’t anything.

  After an immeasurable period of silence, I swallowed hard. Somehow, I was able to mutter, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  I choked on each of the words.

  “Thank you.”

  The phone went silent.

  I dropped it onto my chest and lay there in a daze, staring at the ceiling. Somehow, I felt if I didn’t move, if I don’t go there, if I didn’t react, I’d wake up from the nightmare.

  Tegan rolled over. “Who called?”

  “Mom,” I said flatly.

  She sat up and looked at me. I turned my head to the side and met her gaze.

  Immediately, she started crying.

  I didn’t even have to tell her. She knew. She wrapped her arms around me, and before I’d spoken a single word, kissed my neck.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  Immobile and staring at the ceiling, I simply nodded.

  I couldn’t do anything else.

  She rolled to the side, got dressed, and turned on the light. “Come on. Your mother needs you.”

  “Are you going to go?”

  “I have to,” she said. “I need to tell him a few things.”

  “Okay.”

  I got up and managed, somehow, to get dressed.

  “Can you drive? I asked. “I can’t ride.”

  “Yep.”

  Hand-in-hand we walked to her car.

  The trip took us fifteen minutes that night, and we didn’t speak. Not one word. I’d end up forgetting it completely, as well as walking through the front door, but I’ll never forget what my father looked like when I saw him.

  On the floor, laying on his side, he was still dressed in his tuxedo.

  I looked down at him, and then at my mother. I didn’t have to ask.

  “He insisted that he wear it to bed,” she said. “And you know how he is. There was no arguing.”

  “I think he just hung on until the anniversary,” I said, feeling proud of him in an odd sense. “He probably wanted to cling on to the celebration as long as he could.”

  “He knew it was coming,” she said. “Can you pick him up? Get him in the chair?”

  I chewed my bottom lip and looked at him for a few seconds.

  “Can I?” Tegan asked. “One last time?”

  I nodded, and then burst into tears.

  She lifted him from the floor, shuffled toward the chair, and then lowered him into it. After brushing the wrinkles from his jacket, she leaned over, kissed him, and whispered something in his ear.

  At some point, I stopped crying. It wasn’t because I didn’t care, or that I stopped grieving. I simply stopped crying.

  After the ambulance pulled away, I turned to Tegan and took her in my arms. “What did you tell him? When you put him in the chair?”

  “Just reassured him of a promise I made to him,” she said. “But I forgot to tell him last night before we left.”

  I stood on the porch with my arm draped over her shoulder, and held her close. It was the same porch I sat on as a kid while I talked to him about everything a boy talks to his father about.

  My mother stepped to my other side. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her close.

  And, as I held the two most important women in the world, I realized I had become the pillar of the family.

  The foundation.

  I tilted my head back, looked up at the stars, and made my own promise.

  I’ll make you proud, Pop.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Tegan

  Marcus sat with his head buried in his hands. Eventually, he looked up. “I feel sick.”

  “We can feel sick together.”

  “I liked your words of wisdom from his vault,” he said.

  “Maybe I’ll start making up my own.”

  “You should write them down,” he said. “Maybe make a book.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “He was a good man. He really was.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’m sure going to miss him.”

  “Pee Bee is such a doll,” he said. “I love him, too.”

  “Brad? Why do you say that?”

  He leaned away from the table and shot me a sour look. “What? I can’t love him, too?”

  I laughed, and it felt good. “No, you can, I just. I didn’t know. I wondered where that came from.”

  He pressed his hand to his heart. “From the heart, of course.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  He leaned against the edge of the table, looked at me and blinked rapidly.

  “Did you do something with your eyelashes?”

  “No, I was trying to get your attention.”

  “Attention got,” I said with a laugh.

  “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “Brian apologized.”

  I clenched my jaw. “Not good enough.”

  “Uhhm.” He raised both eyebrows. “Maybe this will be.”

  “What?”

  “He’s got a new bridge of teeth.” He widened his eyes and cocked his head to the side. “And, they look like Chicklets.”

  “New teeth?”

  He nodded his head a dozen times in two seconds, and then continued. “And, he’s got a nice scar on his cheek, and a scar on his arm…” He raised his hands in the air and held them two feet apart. “And it’s this long.”

  “What?” I gasped.

  “Uhhm. Someone beat him to a frazzle.”

  “Karma, that’s what that is,” I huffed.

  “You call it karma, I call it vengeance.”

  “Vengeance?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Serge told me who did it.”

  “Do I know him?”

  He grinned and nodded his head. “I’ll give you a clue.”r />
  “Okay?”

  He rested his cheek against his palm, and tilted his head the side. “You sucked his cock on a motorcycle.”

  “What?” I wrinkled my nose at him and stared. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because, it was my man Pee Bee. I asked around. He went to The Brass Rail as a poser, and then took Brian outside and beat him up.” He raised his hand and turned his palm toward me. “I swear.”

  I shouldn’t have been, but I was excited hearing him say it. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “A hundred percent?”

  He leaned forward and raised his index finger to his lips. “Brain admitted it, but he said if I said a word, even one, that Pee Bee guaranteed him he’d come back, kill him, and cook him on a spit.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Not the spit part, but the rest, yeah.”

  “This is going to sound awful,” I said. “But that makes me happy.”

  “It makes me happy too. I hate it when people talk crap on bikers.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “When is the funeral?”

  “Day after tomorrow.”

  “Can I go?”

  “Sure.”

  “I just. I don’t know. I feel like I know him. And, I want to pay respect to Pee Bee.”

  I sighed. “Brad.”

  He looked down his nose at me. “Brad to you, Pee Bee to me.”

  “Fine. But yeah. You can go,” I said. “Maybe give me a ride?”

  He reached for my hand. “You know it, T-Girl. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Pee Bee

  The highway leading to the graveside service shut down to allow the bikes and cars in without interruption. Tegan, Mom, and I rode in the Limo. I invited Marcus to ride, but he insisted that the Limo be limited to family.

  I gazed out along the grass laden hills. Bikes lined the access road for as far as the eye could see. No less than six MC’s had members in attendance. My guess was there were 400 MC Brothers, and 300 friends and relatives paying tribute to my father’s life.

  As brash as my father was, before me stood proof of the men and women he touched in living his life.

  I could only hope that in living mine I could influence half as many people.

  After the pastor finished speaking, he stepped aside and patted me on the shoulder. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. After clearing my throat, I read the hand-written story.