by Jayne Blue
Hot women, quick sex and no attachments. I knew there weren’t many women like Sawyer’s old lady or Stone’s hot new wife.
The only girl I’d ever spent any amount of time with lately was Dusty. Our bartender and that was fine with me. She was one of the guys.
The rest? They seemed to want to fuck anything in leather and turn around and fuck you over. Nope. Not for me.
I was happy and very unattached to any women but very attached to my club. I knew I was with good, tough, loyal badasses. They’d taught me all I knew since my probie days.
Larry, the old timer, was keeping his job as Treasurer. We were making a lot of bank these days and having Larry, who Sawyer trusted above all, keep the money locked up, made us all feel pretty secure.
Now I was Sergeant-at-Arms of the Great Wolves Grand City Motorcycle Club. Un-fucking-believable. I would have smiled, but I was on the bike. I wasn’t in the mood for a grill full of bugs.
I rounded the curve of a long empty country road. The spring was just starting to turn things green. I needed the air. I needed the freedom my bike gave me. Even if I was now a responsible officer of my club and ran a fucking business, the open road, even for an hour or two, was necessary. If I didn’t ride, I got “squirrelly” as Sawyer called it. It was my medication.
I was going to spend a day, maybe three, rough, out in the country, sleeping at a campground I knew. That was one thing my old man taught me. How to camp. I loved the grease and the engines of the Great Wolves Auto Body shop, but every once in a while I had to clear it out of my lungs. I had my best ideas on the road or in a tent.
The members understood. We all had days, sometimes weeks, where we needed out. Except for Sawyer. As the Prez, you were never out I guess.
The wind, the engine, the trees whipping by, all of it was my drug. I was enjoying it, and it was the perfect way to balance my new responsible life of running Great Wolves Auto Body. I was completely in my own head. That’s until I saw something on the side of the road. Something very out of place.
A cotton candy shaped puff of white caught my eye as it moved strangely forward along the side of the road. It was sort of hard to make out what I saw so I eased back on the throttle as I got closer.
It was a woman. And I had to close my eyes tight and re-focus them to be sure I was really seeing her.
She was running, pretty damn fast actually, for all the fluff that she was hauling with her. I scanned her from head to toe as I approached.
She had piles of blonde hair with flowers woven in and out of it. I could see white netting, lace, and sparkle covering her from the neck to her tiny waist, and then an explosion of white skirt. She was carrying it to the side, as her legs, covered in white fishnets, pumped fast. At the bottom of this wedding cake topper, gone rogue was a pair of muddy Converse tennis shoes.
Well, that explained how she was able to haul ass as fast as she was.
As I got closer, she made a break for the tree line and off the road. I’d probably spooked her, but I really did want to know what the story was. There was no one around for miles. Where had she come from?
As she scrambled to the woods, I called out.
“Hey, stop!” I lifted my helmet off my head. I watched her trip and take a tumble. I put my stand down and got off the bike.
“Stay away!” She yelled as she tried to get up, navigating her giant dress, which was now grass-stained. It was like a tangled fishnet around her legs.
I put both my hands up. I supposed my leather and current Mohawk hair style was not the most reassuring sight for anyone to see much less a sprinting, uh, bride? Yes. I was looking at a runaway bride here.
“Listen, Princess Buttercup. I’m not here to hurt you. Just looks like you need a little help.” She was looking down, her back to me, and she was still.
When she turned her head and lifted it to face me, I felt something very strange. She had gray eyes. I’d never seen that color of eyes before, and they looked very much like the eyes of someone being hunted. Panic was just under the surface. And she was thinking. It showed in her eyes and furrowed brow.
She looked up and down at me. Nothing about how I look was going to make her feel safer. That I knew.
“Are you a Great Wolf?” She asked me. Which was a surprise, odd that this little princess knew what a Great Wolf was, didn’t seem like it fit?
“Yes.”
“I need a ride. Fast. Out of here. Now.” She figured out a way to stand up, despite the massive amount of white fluff pulling her down, and she looked me in the eyes again.
I moved from her eyes to button nose and perfect bow shaped lips. God this princess was like out of a book for sure. I still wasn’t one-hundred percent sure that this was real. Had I accidently smoked something more than a little weed lately?
“Well, you’re in luck. Riding fast and out of here is my current destination.” I put out a hand, and she hesitated. She looked down the road. It was empty. Was she expecting something to be there? It was just the two of us. Her gray eyes were beautiful, no question, but scared.
The road she’d been running along was deserted that I knew since I was on it. What was she so worried about?
We stood on opposite sides of a drainage ditch that kept the Michigan country roads flood free in the wet spring. We were the only two people in sight on this clear spring Sunday morning.
A biker and a bride sizing each other up. I’m sure it made a curious picture.
Then she put her hand in mine. I noticed how rough and dark my skin looked next to her soft white skin. I also noticed a stiffening in areas I did not expect. It was a shock. Apparently, I had a Princes Bride fetish that I was unaware of until this second.
I pulled her across the ditch and up to me. She leaped at that same moment, and we were about half an inch apart. I took a breath in through my nose. There was a sweet smell to her hair. Maybe it was the flowers. I could see they were real and interwoven in this elaborate hair situation. I wanted to get closer to her. To breathe in again. Instead, I stood still and let her get her balance.
Her stormy eyes met mine. I meant to kiss her. I really did. I questioned myself again. Had someone put a magic mushroom on my last pizza?
But I snapped out of it.
“Where to?” I said.
“Anywhere but here,” she said, and she kept her hand in mine.
“Alright, Princess.” I guided her up to my bike and watched her hike her dress up. This time, I caught a glimpse of garter belts. Shit. This was likely a very messy situation I was helping her out of. But the garter belts were enough. Mess or not I was putting her on my bike.
“My name isn’t Princess.” She said.
“Oh yeah, well you look like one. Except for those kicks.” I answered as I made sure she had all of her dress up and safely tucked in away from my tires and around her.
“My name’s Juliet, Jules. You can call me Jules.”
“Sounds like a very princess name if you ask me. I’m Ryder. Keep that dress up so you don’t get killed. And hold on tight.”
“Are you headed to a town?” She asked me.
“I’m headed to a campground. Few days off. That work for you?”
“It’ll do for now. Let’s go.”
“Okay Princess, uh, Jules.” And I got on my bike and kicked the stand out. I revved it up and unleashed. If she wanted to go fast, I’d show her fast.
She held on, looser than I’d recommend at the speed we were going. She was a little wild this runaway princess bride. That was clear. She liked the speed so I took the pins out for her.
I wondered for a second, who was the prince or groom she’d left behind? Was he the one that sparked the fear in her eyes when she’d looked at the road behind her?
I didn’t wonder for long. Instead, I enjoyed the road, the wind, the clean air, and the feeling of having Jules lightly hold on as we road.
The smell of flowers mixed in with the smell of my leather. The combo worked. It worked like crazy.
> Chapter Three
Jules
Hot. There was no other way to describe Ryder. He was hot. He looked like Brad Pitt era Thelma and Louise wrapped tight in leather and topped off in a Mohawk. And he had the sexiest smile I’d ever seen. I mean ever. And I had been treated to some sexy smiles when I dated the captain of the football team in college.
Ryder’s smile let me know he’d seen my garter belt but wasn’t going to mention it. He didn’t need to.
I had been on fast bikes before. And I knew exactly what every patch on Ryder’s leather meant. He was Sergeant-at-Arms of the Great Wolves M.C., Grand City Chapter.
I was raised in the club. Just not that one. I was raised to hate the Great Wolves because Daddy said to.
“They’ve gone soft, and they act so fucking superior. Fine with me. I’ll take every last cent they would have earned. Idiots.”
I’d heard that and versions of it right before I’d left home for college. Now that I was back, I tried to remember the latest. I remembered Daddy saying there was some sort of trouble, but I hadn’t listened to details.
I wish I had. Whatever. I could use Ryder’s fast bike and clear appreciation of my looks to get as far away from the church as possible. He’d told me to hold tight, but I didn’t need to. I could have driven this bike myself. I held on but only just enough.
And I kept looking back. I envisioned the scene. Ross would be in deep shit when my Daddy realized I’d slipped away. That gave me a pang of guilt, but I brushed it aside. He’d have to fend for himself just as I was doing.
I squeezed my eyes shut and blocked out the scene. I didn’t want to imagine the rage I had set off in my Daddy.
I had to stay in the present if I didn’t want to be dragged back by my hair to that damn church. For a brief second, I let myself enjoy the ride. Enjoy Ryder. He smelled good. He felt good, and he was handling this bike well. Fast, confident, but also careful. He was making sure I had a good ride. Which I noticed as he smoothed out the curves and avoided the constant Michigan potholes.
I put my head on his shoulder. I shouldn’t have. But it felt right, and it helped me think. It helped me plan. I had to stay out of sight. Was this campground Ryder was headed to also a good idea for me?
I mulled it over for half a second or less. When I felt, Ryder pull up on the throttle. I looked to see why up ahead. And then I looked behind. There were two bikes on our path and one behind us.
Fuck.
The Devil’s Hawks had caught up to me. Shit. The two bikes were stopped and blocking our progress. Ryder had no choice but to stop. He enabled the kickstand of his bike. He looked at me and said in a low cold voice, “Stay right here. These are some bad dudes.”
“But...” he didn’t give me a chance to explain.
“I’m badder.” And he flashed that smile at me. Shit. He had no idea what he’d done by picking me up.
Daddy had sent Boone and Headlock. They were mean, tough, and stupidly loyal. If Daddy said jump, they did. Behind us was a guy I didn’t recognize. I didn’t focus on him. I needed to warn Ryder. Ryder didn’t know what they were capable of. I did.
I knew Boone and Headlock were deadly.
Ryder spoke up first.
“You’re gonna want to move out of the way.” His smile was still there, but his eyes had changed. The sexy flirt was gone and instead Ryder was something else. There was ice in his eyes now.
“You go from Devil’s Hawks to this piece of shit Great Wolf?” Boone was looking in my eyes and ignored Ryder’s request.
“This isn’t your business Boone,” I said, and Ryder looked at me.
“You know these meatheads?” Ryder asked me and I caught the surprise in his expression.
“Oh, we know you don’t we Jules? Not as much as we’d like. Kept that pussy locked up tight but not after we get you back to the church, right?” Boone said.
“Don’t be such a pig, Boone.” The other Hawk was rustling behind us. God. Did they plan to shoot Ryder? Force me to go with them? I struggled with the question of just how far Daddy’s guys would go to bring me back.
“Maybe we take a little side trip on the way back to the church.” Headlock apparently took Boone’s disgusting lead.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, but this lady doesn’t have to go anywhere with you.” Ryder put a hand behind him and around me. Jesus I was going to get this man killed five minutes after meeting him.
I decided to end it right then. I wasn’t going to risk it. This was my problem and running away had failed. I’d come up with something else.
“Ryder thank you, but I can’t let you get in any trouble because of my situation. I shouldn’t have dragged anyone else into this.”
I walked out away from Ryder and toward Boone and Headlock. I looked at the other Hawk, who was now next to Ryder. We were really penned in. I looked at the smallest of the three Hawk’s patch. Dirt. His name was Dirt? Ugh.
“I’ll ride back with Dirt.” I figured that was one way to keep my distance from Boone and Headlock. They looked like the worst of the three evils.
Ryder stayed on guard. The situation was about as tense as it could get but once I got on Dirt’s bike, I’d be okay. Well, Ryder would anyway. I’d be screwed again.
Almost paralyzing disappointment washed over me. I had a moment when I was running when I had hitched a ride when I thought it was going to work. I was going to escape before they knew I was gone. I hoped for that moment that I had pulled it off. But as soon as these three showed up, I knew I was going to have to give myself up. I wasn’t going to drag this handsome and kind stranger into my drama. I felt guilty that he was even here.
“Listen, Jules you really don’t have to go with these three,” Ryder said, and I kept getting farther from him and closer to Dirt.
“Thanks, really, please, this isn’t your problem. You don’t want to get involved in this mess.” I said, and Ryder looked skeptical, and I’d almost say hurt. Of course, I’d only known him for a few minutes. I was clearly projecting.
“I don’t mind a mess.” He said, but I turned away. He had no idea. And it turned out neither did I.
Dirt smiled at me. He was one of Daddy’s yes men. A soldier. He was one of the dozens. But Dirt was better than Boone or Headlock. They’d already said what they thought ought to happen to me.
As I got closer, Dirt reached into a bag that he’d stashed behind him. Before I had time to even process what I saw, he pulled out a finger. Not his finger. An actual severed finger!
I felt revulsion so strong that it nearly knocked me over.
“Dirt? What did you do? What is that?” I screamed.
“Oh, it’s Ross’s. That’s what you get when you fail the Devil’s Hawks.” Dirt took a step toward me with his horrific and bloody prize. This was my fault. I had caused this. I had slipped out of Ross’s fingers, and now Daddy had shown me in the most violent way what that meant. Ross had suffered because of me.
But I couldn’t go with Dirt, Boone, or Headlock. They were monsters in my eyes, barbarians. The finger was still bloody, still recognizable. Oh God, poor Ross. I just wanted to run away. Run into the woods. I forgot about Ryder, Boone, Headlock, only Dirt, who stood in front of me we the evidence of my Daddy’s brutality, was in my mind. Daddy’s brutal visual aid was like jet fuel.
Dirt took another step forward, and I bolted. I didn’t have a plan or a strategy, just get away. Get away fast.
Dirt was clumsy. When he grabbed for me I had already started running. I had a ton of wedding dress slowing me down, but I didn’t care. I leaped over the ditch and into the field next to the road.
I landed on my hands and knees and looked back. Ryder! He’d wound up and punched Dirt so hard he had to be unconscious. It had allowed me to put more distance between me and all of them.
But Boone and Headlock were closing in fast on Ryder. They were going to overtake him for sure.
“Ryder LOOK OUT.” And he turned around to find both
of Daddy’s goons coming at him. I really should have taken the moment to keep running. To head to the tree line. To run like hell until my heart exploded. I should have said sorry about your luck Ryder.
But I couldn’t. My selfish focus on my own trouble had already claimed one victim, Ross. I couldn’t let it claim another.
I watched Ryder kick a gun out of Headlock’s hand and then pummel him in the nose. Ryder, who seemed so easy going and fun, was anything but. He’d be a more challenging target for Daddy’s goons then they’d expected. But still that he was a target at all was my fault.
I was stunned as I watched Ryder handle Headlock with a few more devastating blows. I also saw Boone take out a handgun and aimed at the two of them. He was getting ready to shoot. I suppose he only hesitated because Ryder and Headlock were so close. Plus, if Boone killed Headlock, he’d have to explain that to Daddy. Daddy decided who lived and died.
I had a second of indecision. I could run back and try to get the gun from Boone. But I knew I was no match for him physically. And in a wedding dress no less. What I did have was a good arm.
I looked around quickly and there it was. A rock that fit right in my fist. I stood up and took aim.
I may not be big, but I was a pitcher on my high school softball team. I knew how to throw. I launched the rock at Boone. His head was my target, and I hit it. The rock I’d launched landed squarely on his temple.
It stunned him and distracted him from Ryder and Headlock. He lifted a hand to his now bleeding head and changed his focus to me. Good. I had Ross’s blood on my hands. I didn’t want Ryder’s too.
Boone turned the gun on me. Fine. Ryder at least wasn’t in the crosshairs now. Just me. Now and probably forever. Damn Daddy.
“Take another step and I’ll shoot you,” he said to me.
“Daddy won’t be too happy if I get shot.”
“He told us to bring you back. That’s all. Didn’t tell us not to wing you.”
