by Evan Grace
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Razor and Edge
Rowdy Rebels MC book 0.5
By Evan Grace
Chapter One
Harper
Music plays softly from the overhead speakers as I sweep up the hair from my last client. After I throw the hair in the trash bin, I straighten my station before heading into the back to grab my lunch bag out of the refrigerator.
Once the lights are shut off, I grab the deposit, set the alarm, and head outside to the entrance to my little studio apartment above the salon. I bought and opened Flippin’ Out two years ago from the previous owner and closed it for three months while I completely gutted the inside and gave the place a more girly, modern look.
I decorated it in soft pinks, white, and chrome. My best friend, Hailey, says it’s totally bougie, and I admit that it is, but my prices certainly are not, although I’m not cheap either. I love the way it looks—it’s totally me. Once I opened, it took about six months and word of mouth referrals before I was making a profit.
Now I have two other stylists and hope to add someone to do nails and massages soon. I’ve lived upstairs since I moved to Eddington, Texas, four years ago. The former owner, Maeve, gave me my job when the salon was hers and rented me the upstairs studio.
The moment I step inside, I kick my heels off. I love them and love the way they make my legs look, but sometimes by the time I’m done for the day, my feet ache. I drop my purse on the little accent table by the door and then grab a bottle of beer out of my refrigerator in my little kitchenette, sighing as the cold brew slides down my throat.
I carry it into my living room/bedroom and set it on my dresser. After stripping out of my black hot pants and form-fitting, sleeveless red t-shirt with ruffles going diagonally down the front, I throw on my lavender cotton nightgown.
In the bathroom, I brush out my caramel blonde locks and then throw them up into a chaotic mass on top of my head. After washing my face, I head back into the kitchen and hunt through the refrigerator to find something to eat.
I decide to scramble a couple of eggs and make some toast. With a glass of orange juice in one hand and my plate of food in the other, I climb onto my bed and sit criss-cross applesauce.
Once I finish, I quickly do my dishes, grab my phone, and climb back onto my bed. I text Hailey to see what is up with her.
Harper: Hey chica what are you doing?
I set my phone down, knowing that she’s probably in the middle of putting her son to bed. I hop off the bed to do some sit ups. After that, I do some squats and lunges.
When I finish, I step into the kitchen and fill my tea kettle. While it’s heating up on the stove, I turn the TV on, trying to find something to watch. I settle on watching New Girl on Netflix.
The kettle begins to whistle, and I go into the kitchen, getting my tea ready. Hailey calls me grandma because I use my nana’s china when I drink my tea. She got it when she and Pop Pop got married. The cup is yellow with pink flowers on them, and it has a matching saucer.
It just makes me feel closer to her. She was all I had, and when she died, she left me a twenty-year-old orphan. I shake my head. I’m not thinking about her today because I don’t want to go to bed sad.
My phone pings, and I pick it up to see that it’s a text from Hailey.
Hailey: Hey girl just got done putting Tyler to bed. He didn’t want to go.
Her son is four and a riot. He is a little comedian and the cutest. Tyler loves his auntie Harper. His blond hair is super curly and cute. I’m the only one Hailey will let touch it.
Harper: Of course he didn’t.
Hailey: I’ve got big news! My parents are taking Tyler this coming weekend so Saturday night you and I are hitting the town.
Being a hairdresser, the only nights I can really go out and cut loose are Saturdays and Sundays because the salon is closed Sunday and Monday. I’m not a real party animal and never really have been, even though Hailey is always encouraging me to cut loose.
Harper: Yeah that’ll be fun. Do you want to go out for dinner and drinks?
The dots begin to bounce.
Hailey: We’re going to go to that bar on the edge of town.
Harper: Sparky’s?
Hailey: You know it.
Sparky’s is a kind of rough and wild place. I’ve actually never been, but when I’ve driven past it, I’ve always seen tons of motorcycles in the parking lot. I wouldn’t say I’m scared to go, but it makes me a little nervous.
I know if I go with Hailey that I’m sure to have a good time; she’ll make sure of it.
Harper: Okay that sounds like fun.
I grab the remote and unpause my show, watching the crazy antics of Jess and her roommates.
I smooth my hand down the white dress shorts I’m wearing. My top is a pink sleeveless shirt that is form fitting and shows of my flat…ish stomach. I’m wearing my favorite tan wedges that I got at Old Navy on sale.
I’m only five foot four and pretty petite in size, except for my breasts. I honestly look like I got them done. It gets me a lot of unwanted attention from guys and then sometimes dirty looks from other women.
Luckily, my nana taught me to be proud of my body. My hair hangs down to just below my bra strap in beachy waves. I kept my makeup light except I did go heavy on the mascara, highlighting my long, thick lashes and my light brown eyes.
I grab my rose-colored lip gloss, powder, money, and driver’s license, sticking them into my tan clutch. Hailey should be here anytime now. I peek out the window and see her red Ford Fusion pull up.
When I get outside, she gives a couple of honks and I hear her doing the wolf whistle. I shake my hips as I walk toward the car.
“What’s up, bitch?” she shouts as I open the door, climbing inside. “You look hot, babe. A little dressed up for a biker bar.”
Hailey is wearing a jean skirt, an off the shoulder black t-shirt, and her black kick ass short cowboy boots. Her auburn hair is straight and hangs down her back in sleek sheets.
“I know I am, but this is how I like to dress.”
“I know and you look hot so who cares? Of course, we’re looking so good tonight we’re going to have to beat them off of us with a stick.” She shoots me a grin before driving toward the edge of town.
Chapter Two
Razor (Hunter)
I wipe the grease from my hands and shove the rag in my back pocket. I turn to look at the clock, it’s after six, but this custom build I have been working on for the past month is being picked up at the beginning of this coming week. It’s done, but I was just making some last-minute adjustments.
Slipknot blares through the speakers as I pick up my tools and throw them back in the tool chest. Once that’s done, I take off my coveralls and throw them into my locker. I grab my cut and throw it on.
I head toward the clubhouse because it’s closer than going home to shower before I meet most of my brothers out tonight.
I’ve always kept my room there because I don’t fuck bitches at my house. They know where you live and they start showing up, scraping them off becomes harder and harder. My roommate/best friend since we were in diapers gets his panties in a wad if I bring drama to our house.
Our clubhouse, like most MCs, is on the edge of town in an old industrial park. The massive cement structure is up ahead with the Rowdy Rebels logo in the middle of the giant metal gate that closes us off from the rest of the world, or at least that’s what it feels like.
The prospect watching the gate pulls it open as I approach. “What’s up, Razor?” he shouts over the rumble of my bike. I give him a chin lift as I pass and back my bike up into my spot.
Not much has changed about this place over the years except the criminal aspect is gone. My dad’s generation before was all about drug running, guns, and gash. Now we have the bike shop and we offer protection. We still like to party and there’s usually weed, maybe a little blow, booze, and a
lot of pussy there—the ladies get so fucking wet for bikers.
I step inside and look around. There are a few brothers here, and some of the OG members. These days they stick close to the clubhouse. I give them a chin lift as I walk by, past the bar, and down the hall to the living quarters.
Inside my room, I shut and lock the door. After a quick shower, I get dressed in a worn black Harley t-shirt, jeans, and my black motorcycle boots. I don’t bother combing my hair; I just grab my black Nike snapback hat and throw it on backwards.
I open the drawer of my nightstand and grab a sleeve of condoms and stick them in my wallet before sticking it in my back pocket. I slip on my cut and then head out.
Shakey’s is hopping tonight, and the women are smoking, fucking hot. I take a drink from my bottle of Bud. Our prez, Sly, comes walking over, handing me a shot of whiskey. I tip it back and swallow the amber liquid down. “Thanks.”
“Did you get the bike finished?”
I nod. “Yeah, I did. The prospects just need to polish it up and then I’ll let Brandon know he can pick it up.”
“Great, I’ll make sure they know to work on it first thing. Your work gets better and better. You know that, right?”
“I appreciate that, brother. I’m always in competition with myself.”
“Well, keep it up. You’re going to put us on the map. Is Edge getting back tonight?” He lights a cigarette, blowing it out slowly.
I nod. “Yeah, he’s supposed to meet us here.”
“Good.” He claps me on the shoulder and then walks away.
The band begins to tune up their instruments, and I move to stand beside our VP, Ace, and our other brother, Syn. “What’s up, boys?” We all exchange back-slapping hugs.
“Did you see the talent here tonight?” Syn grabs onto my shoulder and points with his beer bottle to a group of women in tiny little shirts and teeny tiny skirts. I’ve never had a problem finding a woman to share my bed. I’m sure I won’t have trouble finding someone to take home tonight.
“Holy shit, look at Barbie that just walked in.” I look at Ace and then turn to see what he’s talking about.
The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen has just walked out into the back. She smiles at the woman she’s with, and I watch her walk over to the outdoor bar. Before I even realize it, I’m moving across the cement floor toward her.
The closer I get, the more I realize that she’s a tiny thing. I’m almost to her when I hear someone call my name. I see it’s Sly, and Edge is with him.
“You’re back.” I pull my best friend, brother from another mother, into a backslapping hug. “How’s your ma?”
Edge’s granddad passed away two weeks ago, and the guy basically helped raise him and his sister Kira after his dad split.
“Hey, brother.” He pulls back. “She’s good, just glad everything’s over so she can try to get back to normalcy.” Edge glances around the patio, checking out the women, I’m sure. “I need some shots and some pussy.”
Sly laughs and slaps him on the back. “Well, there is plenty of that here.” He walks away, leaving Edge and me alone.
“Tell me, how are you really?” When you’ve been best friends with someone as long as we have with each other, it becomes easy to read them.
He shakes his head. “I’m fucking tired. Ma wanted to go through Gramps’s stuff, legal papers, policies, and clothes. Fuck, he left me his Harley. Thing’s old as fuck and needs a lot of work, but it’ll be amazing when it’s finished. I thought we could rebuild it together.”
“Fuck yeah, of course, brother.” I grab his shoulder, shaking him. “Let’s get you some shots and then we’ll find some pussy.”
Chapter Three
Edge (Wyatt)
The band plays “Crazy Bitch” by Buckcherry and the bitches in this place go fucking nuts for that shitty-ass song. I glance around, trying to find a woman who gets my dick hard, but it’s all the same old same old.
Razor comes up and stands next to me. “See the blonde at the bar? The one in the pink shirt?”
I look to where he’s pointing, and the moment I lay eyes on her, I feel my dick twitch in my pants. She’s fucking gorgeous and appears to be completely out of place here, but she doesn’t act like it. Instead she sips whatever’s in her glass while bopping her head to the music.
“She’s hot, but do you really think she’s going to agree to coming to the clubhouse with us tonight?”
Razor and I have always shared our women. Sure, we’ve fucked girls on our own, but we’ve just always shared. The first was Sara Jones, back when we were both sixteen. Many have come since then, but we always keep it casual. Neither of us are ready to settle down.
I start moving through the crowd toward her. I keep my eyes on her, and she must feel my gaze on her because she turns my way. Fuck, I feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never had an immediate, intense reaction to someone before.
Her friend walks away, leaving an empty spot next to her. I lean against the bar, and her floral scent wraps around me, making my dick ache. The bartender stops in front of me, and I order a bottle of Bud. He sets it down and walks away. I grab the bottle and take a drink before turning toward her.
She’s looking at the stage, but the second she feels my eyes on her, she turns her head my way. I give her a small smile—I’m a master at this little game. Her cheeks turn a deep shade of pink and she returns my smile. Fuck, she’s pretty—she’s soft, feminine, and the complete opposite of what I usually go for.
“Hey.” I lean forward. “What’s your name, beautiful?”
She leans toward me. “Harper.”
“I’m Edge.”
Harper flashes her pearly whites as she gives me a wide smile. “Is that your real name?”
I shake my head. “It’s Wyatt.”
“I like it.”
I throw my head back and laugh. Fuck, that feels good. I haven’t done that in a while. “Well, I’m glad you approve. I haven’t seen you here before. Are you from around here?”
“I moved here four years ago,” she says. “I own the hair salon Flippin’ Out. It’s downtown, just past the mall.”
I reach out, grabbing a piece of her hair, winding it around my fingers. “Your hair is soft.”
Her pupils dilate as she stares up at me. I want nothing more than to claim her fuckable mouth, but she looks like the type of woman who’d run scared if I came on too strong.
“Thanks,” she says and smiles shyly up at me.
“Hey, gorgeous.” Razor comes up, standing next to me.
Harper turns to him and smiles. “Ummm…hey.”
“This is Razor.” I signal to her. “This is Harper.”
Razor grabs her hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing the back of it. I want to punch him in the side of the head because the bitches are always drawn to his boy band good looks. Fuck me, I sound like a little girl. I better watch out because they’re going to come revoke my man card.
“Can we buy you a drink?” Razor asks.
She looks between the two of us. “That would be great, but I’m here with a friend.”
“Your friend can join us. We’re here with a group of our brothers,” I tell her.
Harper smiles up at me and nods. “Okay, sure.”
I place a hand on the small of her back, ignoring the warmth that spreads up my arm. Razor stands on her other side, and we lead her over to our tables.
We decided to take our party back to the clubhouse—Harper’s friend opted not to come with us. I was sure that Harper wouldn’t come back with us, but she hopped right onto the back of my bike.
Razor helps her off my bike, and they wait for me to do the same. We lead her inside and over to the bar. “What do you want to drink?” I ask her.
“I’ll just take a whiskey and diet if you have it.” She smiles up at me.
I ask one of the prospects manning the bar to make her the drink she wants, and he grabs Razor and m
e beers. With our drinks in hand, we lead her over to a table.
We keep her in between us, getting her used to being touched by both Razor and me. I notice the way her eyes flit around the room. It’s a lot to take in for an outsider, and there is a good chance she could still run before the night’s over.
“Do you want to play some pool?” I stand up, and we lead her over to the table.
Harper looks in between both of us. “I don’t really know how to play.”
Razor throws his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll show you how to handle that stick.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her.
Her giggle is music to my ears. Harper turns to look at me. “What about you? Are you going to help me handle the stick too?”
I wrap my fingers around her hair again. “Baby, do you think you can handle both of our sticks?”
She looks between the two of us. “Oh, I’m sure I can.”
I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her toward me. I take her lips roughly, forcing her lips open with mine until our tongues duel. Razor comes up behind her and starts kissing her neck. Harper moans into my mouth as she grips my shirt in her fist.
When I pull back, Razor spins her to face him, pulling her in for a kiss. I grab her by the hips and slide my hands up her front until I’m cupping her tits. Fuck, these are either really good fakes or she was truly blessed with the best cans I’ve ever felt.
