The Biker's Baby

by N. Alleman

  This time, the girl beside me is a pleasant surprise, rather than a pain in the ass I need to get rid of.

  “Hmph,” Daisy murmurs before shifting and making herself comfortable again.

  I can’t help but smile at the sight of her pale, innocent young body next to mine. I don’t know what it is about this girl, but something makes me want to protect her.

  It’s much more than the fact that she came all this way to find her missing sister. She ran straight into danger in that shit-heap of a car and without any money to boot.

  It’s the essence of her. Every aspect of her fascinates me.

  This feels like so much more than a random hookup. It did right from the very first moment I smelled her. How fucking weird is that?

  That’s why I didn’t fuck her last night.

  I wanted to wait so I could savor the moment when it finally arrives. Like waiting for dessert.

  I know it’s gonna be something else too. The thought of her wet, tight pussy last night has my cock standing to attention just thinking of it.

  Thump, thump.

  Oh shit, there’s that noise again. What the hell is it? Is someone knocking at the door?

  Holy fuck. I jump up out of the bed, panic rising in my chest.

  If it’s the cops, I’m screwed. And at the worst possible time too. I don’t want to get arrested with Daisy here. How goddamned humiliating would that be? Plus, it’s likely that she would be implicated somehow, even though she’s perfectly innocent.

  With regards to the crime they want me for, anyway.

  I grab my jeans with one hand as I scramble around the room for all of my belongings. I can’t think straight … I just need to…

  Thump, thump.

  Oh god. My entire body slumps with relief as I realize that the sound is coming from next door. It’s their door that’s being pounded on. It’s probably just housekeeping or something, if they even have cleaners in this shit-hole of a motel.

  “Get your shit together, you fucking idiot!” I hiss to myself.

  I can’t let Daisy see me all paranoid like this. I need to calm down or she’ll worry too, even more than she’s going to when she wakes up and remembers that she spent the night with a supposed murderer.

  I head for the window, but before I open it, I spot something that makes my heart leap into my throat. Police officers, two of them. For real this time. This isn’t just my paranoia speaking—I can actually see them right in front of me.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  I mutter under my breath as they stop directly under the window. They talk intently to each other, pulling out random documents to examine as they do. They’re here for me, I just know it. I don’t know how I can be so certain about that, but I am.

  A chill creeps up my spine, and my stomach ties itself in knots.

  “Daisy.” I grab her, shaking her more ferociously than I probably should be. She turns over, but doesn’t instantly wake.

  Should I just go? Would it be better if I left her? At least she wouldn’t get in trouble for being with me.

  Unless someone saw us as we came in. Oh crap, I can’t make this decision right now. I don’t want to, and I don’t want to leave her, either.

  “Daisy!” I say a bit louder, and she bolts upright in bed.

  “Wha…?” she asks while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Oh God, why the fuck does she have to look so cute right now? I really don’t need this distraction or the current throbbing in my pants. I need to focus for once in my fucking life.

  “We have to go. We need to leave right now.” I emphasize my words, desperate to get my point across clearly and quickly. She needs to understand me right away.

  As she pushes her way out of the bed, seeming to just get it, I race over to the window. They’re still there, which means we have a chance. We might actually be able to escape.

  “Come on,” I hiss. I know I sound rude, but now is not the time for bullshit niceties. “We can get out of the back, if we leave this second.”

  As I turn back, I quickly see that Daisy is already dressed. She has the clothes on that she washed last night. They’re slightly damp, but she doesn’t seem to care about that. The frantic look in her eyes suggests that she only has one end goal, the same one as me—getting the fuck out of here as quickly as possible.

  All the words that I want to say fall away as I grab her wrist and drag her out of the room. I flick back one last glance to check that I haven’t left anything behind. I don’t want to leave any clues that either of us were ever here.

  We rush down the stairs, making far too much noise, but I don’t give a shit about that. I just need to escape. I know that there’s a back door, leading right to the spot where I parked my bike, and we have about three seconds to get there before the police start their manhunt around this place.

  Rob’s word means fuck all to me now. He might have deemed this place safe, but I wouldn’t put it past the bimbo at the main desk to have ratted me out. I could see it in her eyes. She wanted to fuck me and throw me in jail all at the same time. If she got wind that I came back here with another woman, she’s the type to take me down out of spite.

  Goddamnit, I did not think this through.

  “Where…” Daisy pants. “Where are we going?”

  “You just leave that to me, baby doll,” I throw back at her. I have no idea how to answer her question, but I don’t want her to know that. She’s probably still a little confused about being woken up in such a manic fashion, and I don’t want to give her anything else to worry about.

  Finally, we push the doors open, and the cool morning air hits us in the face.

  Daisy lets out a gasp, but I don’t stop. One slip-up could be all it takes for me to end up in jail, and they can fuck themselves if they think I’m going down for something I didn’t do.

  “There.” I point to my bike, and we both rush toward it. Luckily, I have a spare helmet in the saddlebag that I quickly brandish. I keep it in case I lose one, but this time it’s going to come in handy.

  Okay, I’ll admit it. I occasionally take chicks out for a ride to impress them before we fuck, but now isn’t the time to say that out loud, especially not to Daisy.

  I climb on and motion for her to get on behind me.

  She places her hands awkwardly on my hips, as if she’s never ridden on a bike before and has no idea how dangerous it is. Grinning to myself, I grab her arms and wrap them tightly around me. She’s going to have to grip me hard if she wants to stay on. We’re about to go faster than I’ve ever gone in my life.

  “Hold on tight and don’t let go,” I say before revving the engine to life. God, I love the sound of that purr. This bike is probably the only non-shitty thing that I own, and I love it with my life.

  I glance behind me as I raise my foot and plant it on the footpeg and race off into the distance, as far away from this fucking motel as possible.

  I don’t think about where I’m headed. In fact, all I really think about is Daisy’s arms clinging to me.

  Soon, my mind begins to wander into much dirtier territory than is appropriate for a moment like this. As it does, I suddenly realize that I’ve now turned Daisy into a fugitive too. She’s on the run with a suspected felon.

  Coming back to my room with me was one thing—she could have easily denied that she knew anything about me, but to run from the police alongside me … no one could plausibly deny any knowledge there, not even the world’s most expensive criminal attorney.

  And it isn’t like either of us could afford top-dollar legal representation.

  I wonder if she considered this too. Was she already regretting ever setting eyes on me? I can’t imagine Daisy ever having done anything bad in her life, and I can’t picture her sitting in the slammer.

  It’s a mystery why she’s still with me, why she didn’t turn me in last night when I gave her the chance, but I am grateful.

  Something about her makes me feel more powerful when she’s around.

  I
think I’m in trouble, and it’s got nothing to do with the authorities.

  10

  Jake

  “Where are we going?” Daisy raises her voice to be heard over the wind, interrupting the worry filling my mind space.

  All I’ve been thinking about is getting away from the cops. But feeling her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, her scent mingling with the mind, it makes me feel like more than the degenerate, murderous son-of-a-bitch that the law's made me out to be.

  We’ve been driving for ages with no sign of anyone, so I’m pretty sure we’re safe now. It’s time to come up with a plan.

  Instead of answering her immediately, I veer off to the side of the road and stop the bike. I pull off my helmet, feeling the sweat from my dirty hair trickle down my face as I turn to face Daisy.

  She follows my lead and takes off her helmet too. I’m amazed to see how good she still looks. She was pulled from her bed in a hurry, she had no time to dress properly, brush her hair or shower … yet somehow, she still looks gorgeous.

  Like a fucking angel.

  Her blue eyes pierce mine with questions, and it takes me a second to jolt myself away from this moment and back to what needs to be done.

  “We should get started,” I say in a gruff, matter-of-fact tone. Daisy doesn’t immediately say anything, so I continue. “Looking for your sister.”

  “Uh, right, yeah. Okay.” She sounds a little stunned. Maybe she didn’t really expect me to help her.

  I can’t blame her for not knowing I always keep my promises. We’ve only known each other for a few hours. Not even a day, come to think of it.

  So why does it feel like a lifetime?

  And why doesn’t that bother me?

  “I mean, if she’s been missing for a while, we can’t really afford to waste any more time, can we?”

  Daisy’s silence tells me I’ve probably said the wrong thing. Of course, I have.

  I don’t want to worry her more than she already is and make her think something awful has happened to her sister. She’s been dealing with this shit for months already.

  “So where do we start? The strip club, maybe? What did you say it was called again?”

  I do remember—my memory isn’t that short. I just love the cute, uncomfortable look Daisy gets on her face when she has to say the name.

  “Pussies Galore,” she says.

  She almost whispers the words, shifting on her seat. Her hair hangs across her face like a mask for her to hide behind.

  “Do you know where it is?”

  “Do you?” she snaps back, climbing off the bike, full of attitude, probably trying to find out how much time I spend in strip clubs.

  Not be a good idea to admit I’ve been to that particular club more than once, so I feign innocence. “Maybe we should ask someone.”

  I turn, as if I’m looking for the next random passerby to speak to.

  “Stop it,” she hisses, pulling me backward. “I have the address written down somewhere.” She takes off her backpack and rummages through it.

  I try to hide the smile that spreads across my face as I watch her. Half of me enjoys winding her up, but the other half of me wants to stop and just wrap her up into a massive hug to protect her from whatever she’s about to discover.

  Not that I would say this out loud, but a missing person is never a good sign. I’ve never known anyone to vanish and turn back up again without some serious baggage.

  Plus, the situation surrounding Karen’s disappearance sounds sketchy.

  A stripper, an abusive boyfriend … it doesn’t feel like a happy ending.

  Maybe it would in the movies, but this isn’t a movie.

  This is real life, and in my experience, real life fucking sucks.

  “Okay, I think it’s just around the corner from here,” Daisy says.

  “Sure,” I shove my helmet on. I don’t want her to read my expression and realize I already knew that.

  We race down the road, and I hug a curve tight so I can feel her arms around me. Then I turn onto the street where the seedy building that is Pussies Galore is located. Trash floats along the road, including more than one condom wrapper. Graffiti covers the brick walls, and shady characters loiter on all of the street corners. It doesn’t escape my notice that Daisy clutches me even tighter.

  I swing the bike around, parking by the door, then kick the stand to the ground. I admit, I’m showing off a little, but that’s to cover my anxiety that Daisy is about to get bad news.

  Poker-faced, I get off the bike and grab Daisy’s hand. My goal is to remain steady as we walk through the bright red chipped doors, so I barge in with my usual swagger.

  The more presence I have, the more I get what I want. It’s something I’ve learned over time. If my crappy life has taught me anything, it’s that, and that’s a lesson that I’ll always use.

  Even though it’s early morning, girls grind and writhe against the poles, seducing the stage and the clients. It may not be hoppin’, but it’s a well-known fact that Pussies Galore never sleeps.

  “What now?” Daisy whispers, slipping her hand into mine and moving behind me.

  She’s obviously uncomfortable, so I take the lead. “Let’s take a seat and get a drink. Act natural.”

  We slide into a nearby booth and wait quietly for a waitress to come and take our order. I scan the girls, even though I have no idea who I’m looking for. It’s unlikely that Karen is going to look much like Daisy, but I figure that I might be able to spot some sort of sisterly resemblance. Plus, I can’t sit here and do nothing. I told Daisy I’d help, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.

  Fuck, when did I get so whipped?

  “Can I get you guys anything?” A brassy New York accent interrupts my thoughts, and I open my mouth to ask for a whiskey. It might be early, but we need to blend in.

  To my surprise, Daisy pipes up before I can get a single word out.

  “Where’s Karen?” she snaps, sounding harder than I’ve heard her before.

  My attention turns to Daisy. I know we didn’t exactly have a plan between us, but whatever I was thinking, it certainly wasn’t this.

  Doesn’t she know anything about getting information out of people? You don’t just go in head first, like a bull in a china shop. You’ve gotta use street-smarts and manipulation.

  “I’m sorry, we don’t have any girls by that name here. If you’d like to hire one of our dancers, Karma and Destiny are available.”

  Daisy doesn’t let the waitress finish. “Don’t give me that spiel. Karen is my sister. I haven’t seen her for months. I need—” To her obvious annoyance, her voice breaks and tears fill her eyes. “I need to know where she is. I think her dancer’s name was…”

  She pauses thoughtfully for a second, and I glance over to the waitress, trying to gauge her reaction. I hope the tears are going to work. I really don’t want to have to seduce this woman, not in front of Daisy.

  Plus, she has the haggard, tired look of a woman who spends too much of her time ‘entertaining’. I know a lot of the girls here have the side job of the oldest profession in the world, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this woman was one of them.

  The waitress shoves a wayward strand of box-colored red hair behind her ear. I get it. These women have people asking after them all the time, and it’s the duty of the staff to ensure that no one gets close. One of the biggest dangers in this profession is odd characters becoming obsessed. That’s when bad shit happens.

  Just as I open my mouth to try to say anything to make it better, Daisy speaks out again.

  “Crystal!” She sounds excited that she’s finally nailed it. “Her dancer name is Crystal.”

  “I…” The waitress glances around, looking uncomfortable. “I might be able to tell you when she’s supposed to work next.” She starts to say something else but thinks better of it. “I … um … I’ll just go check.”

  She suddenly scuttles off behind the bar, hopefully to consult a work schedul
e.

  “I guess she can’t just tell us.” I lean in toward Daisy, wanting to reassure her.

  “She can,” she says, interrupting me. “She could if she really wanted to. She knows that Karen is in trouble, and she knows that she should tell me what she knows. Something is holding her back.”

  “Maybe because she isn’t too sure you are who you say you are?” I don’t know why I’m defending this woman. I need Daisy to calm down. I’m concerned that she’s about to explode at any moment.

  “I can’t do this.” She abruptly stands and storms over to the bar. Shit! I need to stop her before she does something really stupid.

  I make my way out of the booth as one of the dancers makes their way over to Daisy and quickly whispers something in her ear. Whatever she says clearly has nothing to do with business, because her words stop Daisy dead on the spot.

  For some reason, this makes me freeze too. She’s discovered something. I just don’t know what.

  I wait, my shoulders tense as I see her turn back to face me. It’s like the action is happening in slow motion, and I need to know what’s happening now.

  Her lips tighten into a strained expression. She wrings her hands, tugs on her fingers, clearly stressed as hell.

  I want to rush to her side, but I don’t want to overstep. After what feels like forever, she lifts two of her fingers, indicating two minutes.

  The next thing I know she’s being whisked into the back. My blood boils. What the fuck is happening?

  Not sure what else to do, I stalk over to the bar. If Daisy is about to find out that her sister is dead, she’s going to collapse. I may have only met this girl last night, but I don’t want to see her fall apart. That would break my heart.

  Until now, I didn’t even know I had a heart.

  “Whiskey,” I manage to blurt out to the bartender.

  “Sure thing, sweetheart.” The tall, leggy brunette throws an exaggerated wink my way.

  Normally, I’d flirt back, just to be polite, but I can’t even muster up a half-smile.