by Adair Rymer
When I opened my eyes, it wasn't one of Slick's thugs this time. It was only Hendrix. I'd never allowed myself to look at him this close before. His strong jawline, thick eyebrows, and long lashes were strikingly handsome.
Hendrix looked at me. Was he trying to read me, to figure out what I was thinking? Maybe he was trying to justify whatever was going on inside of his own head. He was searching my eyes for something.
I'd seen him watching me when we'd stop to rest on the ride to Colorado. I wasn't so naïve that I couldn't tell when someone was interested in me.
“You don't have to be afraid of me.” His words were deceptively smooth but also had the ring of honesty about them. I desperately wanted to believed him.
I was a liar and a bigot.
I needed to believe that all bikers were the same to protect myself from ever being hurt again. I hadn't known Robbie or Hendrix long but they've both shown me more character in the last twenty-four hours than I'd seen in a lifetime around the Blue Angels.
Not all bikers were the same.
The raw truth of it was that I wanted Hendrix. I wanted to feel what a real man was like and the lies I told myself couldn't convince me otherwise. I felt it the second he stepped out of that shower. Now here he was. There were no more distractions or pretense. He was looking directly and only at me.
He found what he was looking for and kissed me. This time, it wasn't the reaction of a surprise. He meant it. Every soft twist, nibble, and press. I fell into it, let it happen.
I was alive because of him, and I was leaving in the morning. I would never see him again. Could I really pass this up?
Countless easy excuses came to mind to let this happen. At the heart of it, I just couldn't get the thought of him out of my mind. This went against everything I'd ever allowed myself. With each passing second, all my hang-ups and resistance became smaller and less important.
Hendrix wasn't like the rest. I had no doubt that he could turn me to ash but I was less and less convinced that he would. If it was all a lie, one that came back to burn me in the end, then I would at least revel in the warmth for now.
His face in mine, I blindly pulled at his hoodie, clumsily wrenching it off of him. I imagined what his naked skin felt like during the whole ride to the Wild Boys clubhouse. To the point that I chastised myself for it.
My fingers explored every rippling muscle of his broad back. They brushed over every minute raised ink mark or scar tissue. The man's back alone could tell dozens of stories.
With a heavy shrug, he pulled me against him. My dulled senses smoldered with so much contact, tingling, heating up. My nipples hardened into little marbles and rubbed against his stiff pecks. His lips finally smacked away from mine, finding purchase on cheek, chin then neck. I rolled my head back and embraced it.
How long was it since the last time I had sex? Six months... a year maybe? My last boyfriend was a wimp, even by my safe standards. He was wet cardboard. I initiated, I set the tone. Jesus, it was borderline masturbation.
Hendrix was the polar opposite. His touch was strong and definite. Confidence radiated off of him. His every jerk and movement unabashedly told me how much he wanted this too. I breathed and held on.
We crashed against the far wall, the ledge ending the roof was on our left. I leaned back and slipped my hideous collared shirt over my head. Hendrix snatched it from my hands and threw it behind him. He tucked up behind me to undo my bra. Or rather he tried to unclasp it.
“Having trouble?” I teased, giggling.
He stopped, raised an eyebrow at me and snapped the clasp, breaking it off completely. “Nope.”
“Aww, do you know how expensive a good bra is?”
“Bill me.” He licked down my neck and sucked on my collar bone. His tongue skated between my tits, then ringed my areola. My chest heaved when he tugged at my nipple. First with his pursed, licked lips then with a hint of pain as his teeth closed on and pulled the tiny pink nub away from me.
It sent a ripple from my chest down my stomach to my hips. The motion gyrated my crotch into the thick rough folds of his jeans. I could feel the bulge of his stiffening cock. Having seen him at half mast, I was curious, excited, and terrified at what he had in his pants.
His hand slid over my ass and squeezed so tightly that I let out a squeak. My eyes widened, blushing embarrassment began to mar my face.
“You gonna make it?” He asked, lightening the pressure on my ass but burying his face in my other breast. He didn't bother looking up, it was obvious that Hendrix didn't mind my weird noises.
It was a nice feeling. The flushness faded, I was able to relax a little more. All the wine made that happen a little faster than I'd ever thought possible but even still, he wasn't judging me. There were no expectations. Whatever this was, it just was.
“I'll survive,” I cooed, watching him work and dragging my nails down his back.
The playing suddenly felt extremely real when I felt his fingers crest the band of my sorta-stolen jeans. They slid around back and easily pulled the fabric over my ass. Part of me got really nervous for a second. I grabbed two handfuls of his long hair and tried stopping him from going any lower. I was a little intimidated. Old anxieties flared in my subconscious. He's a vicious biker!
It was like... I didn't expect it to go this far. Was that a bad thing though? I wanted it...him. I'd probably wrapped my brain around every inch of his hard body but it just didn't feel right. When he pulled against my grip and inched my pants lower, I got really worried. What if he wouldn't stop? He was so much stronger than me, I couldn't force him to do anything.
Thankfully, Hendrix sensed something was off and looked up at me. My expression must have said it all because he let go right away and stood up. He brushed the hair from my face and smiled.
“What was that about surviving?” Hendrix leaned back and ran his hands over his head.
“I'm sorry. I just...” I took a deep breath, exhaled and buried my face in my hands. I felt crappy letting it get that far just to stop.
He retrieved my shirt and pried one of my hands from my face. “Hey. Don't worry about it.” He handed the shirt to me. I put it on.
Bikers aside, I hadn't known many men that could take something like this in stride.
Goddammit Hendrix, you make it impossible to hate you.
I looked up at him feeling guilty, quickly exhaling in a defeated, breathy laugh “Growing up in an MC household kinda screwed me up. I'm sorry.”
“I just got off a five-year dry spell. Another night isn't going to kill me.”
I kissed him.
Hendrix ground his teeth and adjusted the bulge in his pants to something more comfortable now that it wasn't coming out to play. Getting anxious and nervous didn't make me want him any less. My panties were still wet. It was infuriating! I wanted every thick inch of his cock. I wanted to feel everything he could give me, to wrap myself in him. My stupid brain just had other plans.
“You should rethink leaving.” Hendrix abruptly changed the mood.
I turned to face him.
“I don't know what happened to you in your father's club or why it was bad enough to bring you to us, but... Whatever it is that you started is worth seeing through to the end.”
“How could you possibly know that?” How could he? He was surprisingly quick, but not even he could know what growing up on the outside of a club was like.
“Look at you. The impact they had on you is still deciding what and how you deal with things. You said you're doing this for your sister, right?” He asked.
“Yeah.”
“Would you want her to have the same life you had?”
“Of course not but I'm a lawyer not an outlaw! I'm not fit for this kind of life. It was only a few hours ago that I was nearly killed.”
“We all gotta die sometime.” Hendrix shrugged.
“I'm not...I can't just decide to be something I'm not.”
“If you stay and finish this it won't matter what k
ind of woman you think you are. You'll get to die as the woman you always wanted to be.” Hendrix grabbed his hoodie and bottle and made for the hatch that would take him back inside the hotel.
I was speechless.
I had lost sight of the bigger picture. Anna needed me as much as I needed to help her. This whole thing wasn't just for Mom and Anna, it was also for me. I didn't have to live the shadow of the Blue Angels anymore. I didn't have to be scared anymore.
Hendrix was right.
Just like that, running away seemed so foreign to me that I couldn't believe I had even considered it.
“I'm his niece.” Hendrix stopped his descent and looked at me curiously. I didn't know why I was telling him this but it felt like the right thing to do.“Robbie is my uncle.
“I just found out that my mother had a safe deposit box in California and he's trying to help me get there. I'm hoping it has something I can use to get Anna away from our father and his club. Or something that might explain her disappearance ten years ago.”
Hendrix looked me over. It was the same searching look he'd given me right before he kissed me. It was like he was looking for something inside of me.
“I'll stay,” I said, slowly coming to peace with my newfound resolve. I was still terrified at what might happen to me or at what I might have to do, but I felt like I had a purpose again. It was a spectacular feeling.
Hendrix smiled then began down the ladder again.
“Hey!” I walked over to the hatch and looked down at him. “Thanks for all... Thanks. Oh and seriously, you owe me a bra.” A smile crept onto my face.
“That's what you get for tangling with outlaws. You should know better, Lawyer Lady.” Hendrix glanced up at me before stepping out of the small room into the hall.
“Where are you going?” My real question was: Why are you leaving?
I don't know what I wanted but whatever it was I wanted it to be with him.
“I'll be in the room.” He poked his head back in and looked up, grinning. “I find determination sexy. That hot, little, half Korean body of yours got me too wound up to not get off so don't interrupt unless you're willing to join in.” He winked and disappeared.
He made my smile almost eat my whole face. I was compelled to chase after him, after that talk I found him even sexier if that was even possible. Just the thought of him cock-in-hand below me made me flush with heat again.
I sighed and slumped against the half wall that held the hatch door then looked up at the stars. Tonight wasn't the right time. I would feel absolutely horrible if I made him stop again. “I think one major life changing affirmation was enough for one evening.”
Another benefit of seeing this through was that I'd be stuck with Hendrix, at least for a little while. I had a sneaking suspicion that I might be able to steal away some time with him at some point. God, I hoped so.
Hendrix would be my crucible, if I could survive him, I'd be tough enough for anything. Maybe even strong enough to rescue my sister.
Chapter 6
Hendrix
The sun was at its highest when we arrived at the abandoned railway station, on the outskirts of town, the following afternoon. Concrete platforms ran along on either side of us. Intervals of riveted, iron columns suspended the thick, curved latticework of steel that hung defiantly above of us. Harsh seasonal shifts eroded the paneling on the ceiling, stripping the structure of its function. The bubbled yellow caution paint was mostly eaten by a plague of rain, rust and ruin.
Hazy, pollen-filled sunlight filtered through the spider web mockery of the station's ceiling. It sent crisscrossing square, shadow patterns before us as my bike stamped down the tall weeds that had reclaimed the buried tracks. The labyrinth of oxidized metal made the place smell like old blood. There was an ominous sense of dread and inevitability in the this place.
Maya felt it too and squeezed me a little tighter.
I perpetually scanned for things that looked suspicious and kept the bike at a low roar to focus on our surroundings. Last thing I wanted was to ride us into another trap.
There was nothing here but ghosts and echoes.
I followed the grooved tire tracks of the other bikes that arrived before us. Why would Tex have us meet in a place like this? Between the manmade and natural barriers, it was tough enough to get two wheels out here let alone a van. How the hell would Skids get the van—
“Goddammit.” I frowned, suddenly piecing it all together. Skids didn't have the van... and that meant no coke. Which meant that we were completely fucked.
The platforms all funneled into a central hub. I couldn't imagine what it looked like when it was operational but now it was just a derelict inner city park. The row of Coffin Eater's bikes sat where I would've expected a broken swing set to be.
Of the nearly two dozen members and friends of the Coffin Eaters that left our clubhouse yesterday, only six made it out of last night's slaughter. To think, I was one shotgun misfire away from missing this little get together as well. It reaffirmed my need to get out of all this MC bullshit before my luck gives out.
The greeting hugs were somber. Tex was already on the phone with the Iron Legion explaining what happened. Everyone else waited for the only news we could get. There was only one way that phone call would end. I was surprised Tex even bothered contacting the Legion at all. In this game, there was no forgiveness or second chances.
In the Legion's eyes, it would be our fault for trusting that club. That coke was our responsibility regardless of the circumstances. We fucked up and would pay a heavy price for it. I didn't know yet what happened with Skids, why he didn't have the van, but none of that mattered.
This was all on Tex. Running drugs for protection was his deal to begin with and it was his guy that flipped on us and set us up with his old crew. If this deal collapsed, I would make damn sure Tex was crushed beneath it.
Skids and Miles leaned against an ages-old ticket booth and were talking as we made our way to them when Tex snapped his phone shut.
“Any luck with the Legion?” One of Tex's guys asked.
Tex answered the man with a dour look and a shake of his head. Then he looked at us, or rather just at Maya. It was a curious, intense look that Tex had. It put me on edge. “I have one more lead to shake down.”
The hair on the back of my neck tingled the same way when I caught the Wild Boys locking the gate. Something didn't sit right.
“I was beginning to worry.” Skids picked up on Tex's stare at Maya.
Skids checked his pocket watch, closed it then worked it around in his hand for a moment. He stared at Tex with a concerned look on his face.
I wondered if he thought Tex blamed him for wrecking the van. Tex was a mean, manipulative son-of-a-bitch but he'd never be able to convince the other members that it was Skids' fault. Skids should be safe from the backlash, at least within the club.
“Had to stop. Little lady needed a few... articles of clothing.” I winked at Maya who immediately scowled and began to glow a beautiful shade redder. I loved making her blush. There was an innocence there that I found intoxicating.
“I don't want to know.” Skids shook his head and replaced his watch back into his pocket. I hugged him and Miles, which was always customary when greeting after a tragedy.
“Why the hell didn't you pick up your phone, old man?”
“Lost it in the shuffle,” Skids said. He smirked, clamping down on Miles shoulder. “I was too busy keeping this knucklehead alive.”
“Don't drag me into your lover's quarrel.” Miles abstained, throwing his hands up. “Hi, Maya.”
“Hi,” Maya hugged him. “How did you two escape?”
“It was messy,” Skids said, the shift in tone was almost palpable. He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.
I took a deep breath and asked, “The coke?”
“All over the interstate. Wild Boys took out one of our wheels. The van flipped and all the coke that didn't burn became snow. It was a hell of a sight
,” Miles said. He was wide-eyed and stared off, almost completely lost in the memory.
I figured as much, but I had to know for sure. “The wounded guys?” I looked over at the bikes, two of which I didn't recognize. They were Wild Boys bikes. Those must've been how Skids and Miles made it here.
“Ratchet died in the crash but we got everyone else out.” Skids pulled out a pack of smokes and offered them up. I was all set but Miles snatched one up. When he saw that Maya wasn't smoking, Skids slid his own cigarette back into the pack and put it away. He wasn't going to smoke around her if she wasn't a smoker. Skids really did care about this girl. I guess they really were related.
“They were in too rough of shape to take with us once we got rid of the Wild Boys. Had to leave them. Must've been picked up by the cops by now,” Skids shook his head like a soldier forced to abandon his comrades. He finally looked at both me and Miles then asked, “Give me a minute with the girl?”
Skids grabbed my arm before I'd gotten too far away. He leaned in and whispered, “Thanks for getting her outta there.” Then he patted me on the shoulder and turned back to Maya.
I joined Miles and the others to give the Merritt family some room. Skids and Maya probably had a lot to talk about. After everything she'd gone through so far, she deserved some answers.
That initial feeling of dread I got when we arrived lingered. I still couldn't shake it. It had burrowed into my bones and screamed in my head. Something was very wrong and I didn't know what it was.
I scanned the area with my thumb behind me, casually hanging off my waistband, right next to my gun. No one else looked nervous or shady and there was no sign that we were being watched or had been followed. Maya was with Skids and they both seemed fine.
“We're good with the Legion,” Tex bellowed, walking back toward us.
We're good? That was a death row pardon and we didn't know any governors. A massive weight was lifted off everyone. They began to visibly relax. Everyone except Skids, and that made me concerned. What weren't Maya and Skids telling me?
