by Emily Bowie
“I’ll go slow,” I try to coax her, wanting to share this with her. Closing the distance between us, I take her hand, guiding her feet as they shuffle forward. Even though she looks scared, she never says no.
Straddling the bike, I motion for her to hop on the back. I watch as she visibly takes a deep breath in before cautiously placing one leg over the seat. Her hands dig into my sides, from what I’m assuming is fear.
Turning my body, I take in her small frame. “I will never let anything hurt you. Do you trust me?”
She nods, swallowing. Taking hold of her hands, I wrap them around me, her body instantly scooting closer to mine. She moves back and forth, adjusting herself as she gets a feel for the bike.
“Don’t be wiggling too much, and lean into me to help with balance,” I instruct before my foot comes off the ground at the same time I press the throttle. I go slow, trying my best not to frighten her.
After a few minutes, her death grip on me relaxes to a normal hold, and I think I hear her giggling. I’m impressed by how she moves into the curves, naturally in sync with me, making the ride easier than I anticipated.
“Kiptyn, I never took you as a Sunday church driver.”
The sass coming out of her mouth only makes me smile, knowing she’s having fun. “What does that mean?” I ask over my shoulder.
“It means you drive like an elderly person.”
She wants to go faster. I can give her that. I press the throttle deeper, going slightly faster, leaning into the curves more to give her the desired excitement. I refuse to go even remotely as fast as I would without her; this speed is good enough. What she’s really after is the fun of the corners. People think it’s the pace, the speed, but it’s all in the way the bike leans as it takes you from one side to the other, bringing feelings of exhilaration, pleasure, relaxation and even fear. It’s a ridiculously addictive feeling, mixing adrenaline and anxiety.
I make a loop in the cut trails until I see two trees near each other with a path going right between them. Her grip tightens as she senses my new destination. I weave in and out of the trees, allowing our bodies to dip with each turn. She screams and lifts her legs as we zoom between the trees.
There’s plenty of space between, but with the adrenaline running through us and the possibility of not making it, our hearts race. She hollers out a laugh, realizing we made it. Before we know it, we’re back in our spot and I’m helping her off the bike.
“That was awesome. I never thought I would get on the back of a bike in my life.” She laughs, her eyes so vibrant with excitement, and I love that I put that excitement there.
“I’ll take you out any time you want.” She has this look of adoration on her face, and it’s directed right at me. It makes me feel warm. Our friendship is easy, and I hope it never changes.
“How’s the all-girls school? Had any pillow fights recently that you want to tell me about?”
Her small hand swats me in the chest, making me laugh. Kellie has this effect on people. She’s so easy to love, and her happiness is contagious.
“I’ve made a few friends. To make it in a place like that, friends are a necessity. My parents are loving it. I’m hidden away from the public world; the school handles our shit enough they rarely involve our parents.”
To be honest, I’m shocked to hear she didn’t already have a million friends.
“What do you mean by that?”
“The whole reason all of us are here is because our parents deem us unfit for whatever role they require us to play in their lives. In addition to the curriculum, they teach us how to ‘behave.’” I use my fingers to make quotation marks. “They’re pretty strict, and the punishments are brutal. Not physically in the way of beatings, but we become slaves to them. Only for expulsions are parents ever involved.”
“No pillow fights then?” She slaps me again, but it’s hardly felt. I notice for the first time she’s brought books with her. “Need help studying?” I nod toward her books on the table.
“Would you mind quizzing me? The higher my grades, the less my parents come and visit.”
I shrug, open to the idea; studying would be a first for me. She hugs my waist, catching me off balance, but only for a split second before I instinctively wrap my arms around her, placing a kiss on her forehead. In this clearing, we are in our own bubble, where no rules exist, no outside pressure is placed on the two of us.
Since the day I met her, we’ve had this crazy chemistry that zaps alive when we’re together. Our embraces and kisses are the most natural part of our friendship. It’s second nature. But I’ve made sure I have never crossed the line with her. She is what keeps me going some days, and I never want to ruin what we have. I never want to ruin her because of my greed for wanting to have her.
“What am I learning today?” I pick up the textbook on the table. I hold it by the front cover, allowing the pages to flip in front of me with my flimsy hold.
She pops a hip, lifting her brow, making her look absolutely adorable. Too adorable, as my dick starts to stir. She knows what I’m thinking too if the pink creeping up her neck is any indication. Clearing my throat, I decide to deflect, “Is this Latin?”
Taking the book from my loose grip, she playfully swats me, her hand lingering longer than normal. “It’s poetry. I need to be able to explain what the poet means. I try to write down what the teacher says and memorize it, but she gave me no marks last time, saying I need to come up with my own interpretation.”
She sits on the edge of the picnic table, and I get behind her, pulling her into me. I can’t help myself. She feels like the perfect fit, and that perfume of hers has me wanting to stay close. “Read one to me.”
She looks to be concentrating while she flips through her book as she decides on which one to read. I love how her nose scrunches with her lips pursed while she focuses. I could look at her all day. I can’t help but wonder what she would look like when she orgasms, a mini fantasy playing out in my head. She makes me crazy with all these little thoughts I can’t help.
“What do you think of that one?”
I stay silent, wondering if I heard her at all.
“You know, if you spent less time looking at my lips and more time listening—”
I cut her off there. “This is your fault. You’re too distracting. This is the longest I’ve paid attention, and it’s because of you. Hell, I don’t even remember this class you’re talking about.”
She laughs, shaking her head at me. “If you don’t help me, I’ll be forced to go back and ask one of the old bats to,” she threatens.
“Try me again.” This time, I honestly do try, but it goes in one ear and out the other. I have no idea what the hell she or this poem is talking about. “I think this is about some dude trying to get laid, so he made up a bunch of bullshit trying to sound educational, and in the end he got his girl.”
She attempts to glare me down. She should know better than to ask me about this shit. Needless to say, she never asks me again to help. In the future, she would bring her books, and I would keep her company and demand she take breaks.
CHAPTER 6
March
It was rare to find myself not at McGrath Mansion. The Fallen Saints’ driveway is littered with bikes, making it hard to get in close, until I find a spot to squeeze mine in along the long line of others in front of the Fallen Saints’ clubhouse, but in the last row. Walking through the maze of bikes, I wave to a few guys who are sitting and talking with a small crowd around them.
Music blares into the night, coming from multiple speakers. I faintly see a couple fucking in the bushes, but they’re more heard than seen. The smell of weed is strong in the air, and the alcohol flows freely through most of their veins by now.
The clubhouse itself is a three-story building, which takes up most of the property. Lights shining through the windows cast enough illumination around until the lines of white bulbs that mark the outskirts of the property take over. Behind it sits overgro
wn hedges and trees that act as a perfect burial ground if needed. It also helps muffle any sound that tries to escape to their closest neighbors.
Walking up the steps to the first balcony, shadows of people are seen, the music vibrating through their muffled conversations. The door is held open with a large brick, allowing the freedom of coming and going. Making my way through the crowded house, I spot a chick giving a biker head in the living room while others are dancing. No one takes notice as she sits on her knees while he’s in the center of the couch. The men keep their eyes cast on the almost naked women dancing in front of them. The dip of hips allows their tits to be in the men’s faces, while they carry on their own conversations with each other.
“What can I get you, handsome?” a drunk girl wearing someone’s cut purrs at me.
Trying to sidestep away, I give her no mind, not needing to get into a fight over some chick I give no fucks about. She latches onto my shoulders like a leach, her vodka breath in my ear. Removing her hands from me, I holler out, “Someone claim their bitch. She looks in heat.” I’m in no mood for theatrics. And I don’t need anyone being misinformed.
“McGrath!” Turning, I see the president’s son, Axel, smiling at me. He’s about my age, climbing up the ranks in the only life he has ever known, much like myself. The two of us have always gotten along, realizing we’re both in the same boat.
Coming up, we shake hands. “Good to see you in here,” he tells me. He has a beer in both hands, looking like he’s alternating between the two of them.
Just as a song ends and another one starts, I swear I hear Kellie’s laugh bounce off the walls and through the music. It’s faint, but I stiffen, knowing she’s here.
“Thought I’d come and check things out.” I look from him around the room trying to figure out where the sound came from.
Each month, I seem to be closer to the MC. We have similar aspirations. We both seem to need each other, at least for now. In order to stay in this slowly forming partnership, I need to know everyone. I want to know who I need to keep close. I’ve been offered to patch in, but I need my independence.
“Beer’s in the ice bucket.” He nods toward the huge metal trough. I turn my head, seeing a woman curl her finger at Axel, hoping to gain his attention.
“You want her?” he asks me. He can get anyone here. Him being the future leader one day gets him anything he wants.
With a shake of my head, I continue on my way, not wanting a beer. I need to keep my mind alert. Looking over the living room, I don’t see Kellie. Every now and then, I hear her giggle, and then it’s gone like I’m imagining it.
Am I imagining it?
Heading downstairs, she’s the first thing I see. She’s swaying her hips, singing, while a few other girls dance near her. They’re perched up on a bar ledge, giving everyone down here a perfect view of them. Lights shine on their perfect bodies, placing them on display.
“Loser pays for that one.”
My attention turns to two bikers who look much too old for her. Everyone here is too old for her.
“Five attempts added together, a shot between each.” They begin forming their rules for their game of darts. I’m not sure which one of the girls they’re talking about.
By the looks of the girls, they’re from the all-girls school. Two of the four girls look identical, even wearing the same thing. They dance closer to each other, teasing the men watching them. The third one is dancing near Kellie, but they’re not putting on a show like the others.
The first biker hits a twenty, while the other one hits a triple ten. I watch in the shadows, taking it all in. I don’t want to show my hand so fast by making a claim on Kellie, but I’ll be damned if anyone gets to touch her.
Each of the girls is handed a drink, and they willingly accept it. They don’t even question it. I have to fight the urge to step out from my spot and rip Kellie from this place. The first rule anywhere is to never take an open drink from a stranger.
I watch as another biker comes up to the girls, holding his hand out to one of the twins.
“Get in fucking line,” the two guys playing darts holler at him. “You have to pay.”
I see under his name the word Prospect patched onto his vest, then another patch that says Fallen Saints. He’s still new and not fully accepted into the club yet.
“While you’re at it, get us another drink,” the dart players demand of him.
The song ends, and I watch one of the men paying cash to the other one. It looks to be close to a hundred bucks. I step in closer, leaving my hidden spot. No one gives me much mind when I bump shoulders coming closer.
The room is humid and hot with too many bodies. The smell of stale beer, sweat, and perfume mixes together. Kellie twists as her knees bend, doing some sexy dip before she snaps her body back, making her hair fly in every direction. Every part of her body looks flexed, making the men catcall, liking the show. I hate every second of it. Curling my fingers in and out, I try not to take note of each and every man here calling for her. Instead, I keep my eyes glued to her, not allowing myself to lose her in the crowd.
“I bet they feel fucking tighter than hell.” The VP comes up to me, slapping me on the back. He doesn’t look at me, his eyes staying trained on Kellie.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins, wanting to coldcock him in the face. He’s nothing but a schemer.
Kellie still hasn’t noticed me yet, and it’s annoying the shit out of me. When I look back at the girls, the bikers have all taken more of an active role in watching them with predatory gazes. They have been inching closer, and the girls don’t seem to have a care in the world.
A gunshot rings through the air, and everyone’s head swivels up toward the floor above. Bodies are only frozen for a millisecond before everyone takes action. Everyone runs past me to see what the hell is going on; people are pushed down the stairs as others scurry past them in the mayhem.
My eyes never leave Kellie, watching her and her friends turn into statues on the bar top, frozen and unsure what to do.
My arm is pulled, away from the girls, and I follow the crowd, needing to keep Kellie safe. The girls are safer down here for right now. If more shots are being fired, I want Kellie nowhere close to them.
Taking two steps at a time, I pull my concealed gun out. It’s chaotic upstairs, women screaming, people scrambling. I head in the opposite direction of everyone. Axel is at my side as we enter the living room that a few moments ago had half-naked chicks everywhere. The woman who had her hands on me earlier is lying in a pool of her own blood, and a biker holds a gun to another.
“Nothing to see here boys. It’s a good old-fashioned domestic dispute,” the president hollers to us, smiling as he takes a seat, waiting to see what happens.
If the biker kills the other one in front of him, Axel will rise another rung of the ladder. I can see why he’s in no hurry to stop anything.
All I can think about is getting Kellie out of here before more people decide to get cocky with their guns. And I want no part in burying someone I didn’t kill. Me being here only drags me further into MC business, which I have no reason to be in. I nod, stepping back. Axel stays in his spot, making sure no one else steps into business they’re not involved in.
Heading back to the basement, I see it’s empty. Plastic cups and beer cans litter the floor, and the smell of cigars mix in with the spilled drinks, all while the music blares.
CHAPTER 7
I run to any door I see closed and open it up. Each is vacant like the last. My heart rate accelerates knowing this club is known for its rowdiness, drugs, and free-flowing women. A girl like Kellie is like catnip to these guys.
Going back upstairs, I reach the last step when I hear the bullet being placed into another body. I barrel through the front door only to see scattered groups of people lingering, no longer worried about a thing. I have to slip between all of them, push them to the side just to get to the ledge of the balcony. My hardened eyes roam the area, look
ing for her white-blonde hair, ready to fight every man in here if I don’t find her.
There are pods of people everywhere, back to drinking and dancing, the second shot doing nothing to move them farther along. My feet jog down the stairs, stepping onto the struggling spring grass, looking for that natural blonde hair that can’t be replicated. Frantically, I weave in and out of people, stopping to ask a few if they have seen her by my description. I get blank looks from the women and shrugs from the men. It’s like no one has seen her tonight nor cares to remember.
I’m close to shouting her name when I finally see her. She’s on top of a picnic table, swaying her hips. Her hands roam over her body seductively with her eyes closed, only opening when it looks like someone is talking to her.
Slowing my steps, I head toward her, gauging the mood and atmosphere over there. The same men stand around watching, practically drooling.
The twins have their shirts off, twirling them around their finger as they holler between laughter. They shout for Kellie to do the same. I can feel my jaw tic, my breaths becoming heavy.
No one takes notice of me when I walk into their area. Looking up, I notice Kellie’s eyes are pink, with a half-smirk on her face. She looks stoned. Seeming to have a hard time focusing, she peers down at her friends.
Her fingers fumble with the hem, getting it partly up before I’m scooping her off the table. “Show’s over.”
She yelps as I take her by surprise and slap her ass for good measure. My hand circles the spot, soothing it. It takes her longer than I anticipate to fight back. She slams her small fists into my back, cursing, “What the hell?”
Just as the men who I don’t know step toward me, Axel walks into the middle of our circle. “Get everyone the fuck off our property. We have business to attend to,” he orders, never sparing anyone else a look before he marches off.
The men look like they want to do something about me, but orders have been called. They’ll have to settle for doing the bidding of the president. I have no doubt a body may be buried in these woods tonight.
