by M. N. Forgy
“When I saw the cops dead on the floor, I ran. I heard Stevin order his guards to chase me. One caught me and I fought back, only to be slapped by him. I kicked him in the balls and ran to the elevator,” she says, frantically. Her words are flying out of her mouth so quickly I can barely keep up.
“Uh,” she stumbles. Her eyes are wide with a look of disbelief, “Stevin came out of his office pointing a gun at me, but luckily, the elevator doors closed before he started shooting.” Her body is tense, trembling and avoiding. She isn’t telling me the whole story; my mother is a crappy liar. Based on her sweating, stumbling words and frantic state, I am sure she is definitely hiding something. This makes me nervous; the danger we appear to be in must be severe. I should know everything, and I don’t.
“I called your father. He’s going to protect us until we figure out our next move,” she says, finally looking in my direction. Her body suddenly seems calm and appeased.
“My--my father?” I stutter, confused why we are running to a guy my mother has wanted to keep away from me, the last person I ever thought my mother would run to for help.
“Anyway, Stevin’s a powerful man. I’m not sure how deep his pockets go, so leaving New York is our best option.” She looks at me for a reaction, avoiding my question about my father.
“Bull will protect us,” she says, nodding her head, so sure of herself.
“This is a lot to take in,” I say as I exhale, noticing for the first time I‘ve been holding my breath. My index finger and thumb are worrying my bottom lip as well, which is something I apparently do when I’m nervous according to my shrink, Victoria. When I was younger my mother said I acted so much like my father it worried her, making her feel I needed a shrink. Truth is, I hate Victoria. She always sides with my mother, even when I know she is wrong. The only thing Victoria ever made sense of was the nervous habit I have of playing with my bottom lip. I didn’t used to even realize I was doing it, but now I catch myself when I’m lying or nervous, or both.
“Look, I know you can’t understand right now,” my mother says as she grabs one of my hands in both of hers. This new affection is lost on me; she hasn’t shown any maternal instinct since she went to work for Stevin. I drop my fingers from my lips and feel my body stiffen at the contact.
“We need the type of help only an outlaw club like your father belongs to can give us. I won’t let them hurt you or drag you into their world of hell. You won’t be like them, Dani. You have a future, don’t forget that,“ she says, looking directly into my eyes.
“Uh, okay,” I say, shocked at the mother of the year suddenly sitting in front of me.
“They are outlaws, Dani. They will try to drag you into their perverse way of life”, she says with a loud sigh “They’re ruthless and pigs. Do not let them mislead you.” She starts biting her bottom lip reaching up to turn off our overhead lights; as usual she’s done talking about this and no amount of arguing will change her mind.
But why will my father help us if he doesn’t care about us? Did she tell my father about me on the phone? If this biker club is so morally wrong why are we running to them for help?
I awake as the plane lands and am surprised to realize that I could sleep after all the shit my mother has doled out in the past few hours. I shuffle behind her to the luggage carousel and wait what seems like forever, but is only a few minutes, before we see them on the conveyor belt. I grab mine as it rolls up and head for the nearest exit.
As I walk out of the airport, the sunlight pummels my sensitive eyes. I stop and reach into my purse for my sunglasses. As my eyes are adjusting, I realize my mother is no longer beside me. I’m not sure who we’re looking for, but I notice a large SUV with two black, slick-looking motorcycles parked behind it in the ‘NO PARKING ZONE’. There are two men with the bikes and I take a moment to check them out. I’m hoping my sunglasses keep me from looking like I’m staring. One of the guys is leaning against his bike. He is older, maybe in his forties. A black bandanna is wrapped around his head. Long, dirty-blond hair flows from beneath it and rests on his well-built shoulders. A long beard and matching, thick mustache are the same dirty-blond but with white speckles. His mustache is so thick, it covers his mouth to the point I can barely tell he has lips. He’s wearing a black leather vest over a white t-shirt and black jeans which reminds me a bit of Trigger from the airport in New York. His legs are crossed out in front of him as he leans on one of the bikes, while his fingers twirl a toothpick in his mouth. His attempt at looking casual isn’t fooling me, his whole image screams outlaw.
The other guy is facing away from me. He has black choppy hair on top of his head and it is shorter on the sides. The back of his leather sleeveless jacket has a skeleton hand crushing a skull on it. It reads ‘DEVIL'S DUST’ above the crushed skull and ‘California’ under it. He’s wearing a white shirt with blue jeans and black motorcycle boots. He turns and I stop in my tracks. He’s stunning; gorgeous even, and he just oozes bad boy. His skin is tan and I can see his tattoo peeking out from under the short sleeve on his left bicep. I can’t make out what it is, though. He looks younger than the other man, maybe in his early thirties. I see his lips turn into a cocky smirk and I realize he’s caught me looking at him.
Shit. I smile back. Looking into his eyes, I find that they’re a bright blue. Of course, they’re blue; the contrast with his dark hair is striking. And these blue eyes have an animalistic presence to them. He stretches his arms out and then crosses them in front of his chest. The fabric of his white t- shirt stretches tight around his arm muscles in the process. My lips suddenly part; I can’t breathe at the danger standing in front of me, yet I’m completely intrigued at the same time. Surprisingly, I feel safe for the first time since my mother woke me up in the middle of the night. I have no idea why! He seems anything but safe.
My mother grabs my arm as she catches up and to my dismay, starts in their direction. My mind is still slowly processing the information she shelled out on the plane. I remember we’re seeking protection from a motorcycle club and let her pull me along.
The older guy rises from his bike as we approach and the younger one turns toward my mother. “Lady, I presume?” the delicious biker says to her. As we get closer I can see the patch on the front of his vest reads ‘SHADOW’. He is even more seductive up close. But behind all that beauty I sense a beast. He has the look of someone who’s been damaged, but has a natural allure to hide it. I feel my thighs squeezing to dull the ache between my legs. Fuck! What’s wrong with me? He isn’t possibly turning me on, is he?
“Hell yeah, that’s Lady,” the older biker exclaims, his voice raspy with age and cigarettes. “How the hell have ya been?” Up close I notice he has wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, age has not been kind to him.
“My name is Sadie,” my mother retorts; her tone cold and unfriendly. This guy obviously knows my mother. The way he’s so excited to see her, I feel they must have been friendly at some point. The look on my mother’s face, however, is anything but excited to see an old friend.
I feel Shadow’s presence and look at him. The depth of his blue eyes stirs something in me and my cheeks flush. I have to look away. I know from past experience that guys like him are usually just womanizers. I haven’t been used but I’ve heard guys talking at college; guys that are gorgeous like that. None of them had ever affected me like this, though. Those guys were mere boys compared to Shadow. Shadow is all man. I hear my mother’s words play in my head, “…They are outlaws, Dani. They will try to drag you into their perverse way of life.” I close my eyes tightly, trying to shake off the drowning effect this Shadow has me under.
I open my eyes and try to concentrate on my mom and the older biker. I look to find his name patch: 'LOCKS'. Under that was another patch that read ‘VICE PRESIDENT’ and he has a ‘1%’ patch. ‘Locks’ is an odd name; maybe he’s good at breaking locks or something.
I look back over at Shadow’s vest, curious now. ‘Sargent-At-Arms’ is embroidered
on the patch under his name and I notice it has ‘1%’ on it, too. These guys are anything but safe, but I somehow feel they will protect us from the shit my mother has gotten us into. If anything, Stevin will run like a girl when he sees these criminals.
Locks brushes his hand against my mother’s cheek and I see her body tense at the touch. “I will kill the fucker that did this to you, Lady. That’s a promise!” he says with such fierceness in his tone I know he’s not lying.
I look back at Shadow and he’s looking at what Locks is referring to; my mother’s battered face.
“This is Danielle,” my mother says, pointing at me. “Danielle, this is Locks. We go way back.” My mother points back at Locks, her introduction takes the spot light off of her.
“Hi. It’s so nice to meet you. You can call me Dani,” they both stare at me; Shadow’s gaze making me uncomfortable. ”You… uh… have lovely bikes,” I say, nervously. I am trying to be polite, but I just come out as idiotic. Everyone chuckles. Great, I’m sure they’re thinking I’m some naive bimbo. I blow air into my cheeks as I sigh in defeat.
“Bull wants us to meet him at the clubhouse to go over everything. He couldn’t be here. He had to tie up some loose ends; Club business,” Locks explains as he turns back to my mother. “We had the prospects bring the “grocery getter” to lug you and your shit to the club.” Locks grabs our bags and heads toward the black SUV.
Wow, it’s an Escalade. I’m not sure how an Escalade becomes known as a “grocery getter”.
I start climbing into the back seat and am startled by a deep, smooth voice. I jump and turn with a yelp, just missing bumping my head on the door frame.
“Yeah, Locks doesn’t know shit about vehicles, unless it’s a bike. This Escalade could probably buy his whole fucking house.” Shadow smirks, ignoring my startled state. He leans on the side of the SUV, his eyes devouring me; making me feel naked.
Holy shit, he’s gorgeous. Up close I notice his ocean blue pupils have a rim of stormy grey around them, painting a picture of an angry ocean fighting a stormy sky. His lips are soft and sensual, his bottom lip plumper than the upper, making me bite my own lip to repress the temptation. I let out a strangled breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The affect he has on my breathing makes him a danger to my health. His smirk turns into a cocky grin as he tucks a loose lock of hair behind my ear. He knows the effect he has on me. By the looks of him I’m sure he has panties dropping for him all the time. I get angry as I think about it. What a player. I already want to shove my foot in his ass.
He holds his hand out to help me into the car and I grab it without a second thought. My betraying body instantly heats at his touch like I’m on fire. His grip tightens and he pulls me closer; our bodies only inches apart. I can smell the soapy scent of his body wash blending with low notes of sweat and exhaust fumes; the smell causes wetness to fill my panties. My body leans even closer; I’m almost panting for his attention now.
“Ahem,” my mother clears her throat, already in the back seat. “Do we have a problem?” she asks, suggestively, snapping me from the daze Shadow has me in. I clearly didn’t have any common sense around him; that alone should make me want to stay away. Who is this guy, and why am I so attracted to him?
I pull my hand from his quickly, shaking my head of anything ‘stormy skies and bad boy biker’ and climb into the “grocery getter”. I take my sunglasses off and turn toward Shadow to thank him, making sure to throw sarcasm in my tone to show I’m not affected; even though it is a big, fat lie. I am anything but not affected by him. When our eyes lock, his smile instantly falls, his jaw clenches, his body goes stiff and his mouth slightly parts, he looks as if he is seeing a ghost. His change in demeanor catches me by surprise. Before I can ask if something is wrong, he slams the door shut.
What the hell? Maybe he is just an ass, getting off at playing games with my mind. If I have any common sense, I will stay away from him. I place my sunglasses back on my face and turn forward. The way my body screams for the guy contradicts the calmness I’m trying to portray. This is going to suck.
Locks and Shadow follow closely behind us as we leave, the motorcycles sending a thunderous roar in their wake. The two ‘prospects’, as Locks called them, are sitting in front, silent. Their heads are all I can see of them. The one driving has a buzzed Mohawk and the one in the passenger seat is bald with barbed wire tattoos all over his head. My body still feels high from the encounter with Shadow, my skin tingling from every nerve ending. He isn’t even in the car with me and he still manages to send butterflies sputtering chaotically in my abdomen. It’s taking everything I have not to turn and see the ‘sex on wheels’ behind us. I wonder if I will get to ride one of those motorcycles before this is all over. I find the motorcycles sexy and dangerous. Ugh, what is wrong with me? I need to snap out of fantasy land. These guys are criminals and I need to be here for my mother. I have to resist Shadow’s playboy charm, and stay focused.
It’s a short drive before we pull up to a wooded area with a two story building tucked back off the main road. The front has double glass doors with little barred windows here and there. To the right of it is an older tin building with two garages. A parking lot in between the two buildings is littered with motorcycles. As I climb out of the SUV, I hear the rumbling of more bikes. I look over and see Locks and Shadow already getting off their bikes so I know it’s not them. Suddenly, a swarm of black motorcycles pulls up and parks next to Shadow and Locks. The group of outlaws makes my hands tremble with fear. How could my mother think this was safe?
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. How ya been, Lady?” an unfamiliar voice calls out from the gang that just pulled up. A tall, beefy man, ahead of the others, makes his way toward us. He has dark glasses on his face, and black hair that shags around his eyes and ears. He’s wearing a black, ripped shirt with tight blue jeans that tuck into his scuffed boots. His shoulders are broad, and his arms toned and tanned. He reaches down and grabs my mother’s hand and lightly pecks the top of it with his lips. She yanks her hand from his mouth with force. I can almost feel the hatred pouring out of her. My eyes dart to the black leather vest he is wearing.
‘BULL’. ‘PRESIDENT’.
My mind flashes back to Trigger at the airport in New York, he told my mom that this made him and Bull even. This is Bull, this is my father and he is the President of the club. Holy Shit! This is the guy I was always being compared to growing up. The man that paved my road of nothing but disapproving acts; he has made my life hell and doesn’t even know it.
“Still just as charming as ever, aren’t we, Bull,” my mother smarts. ”Say hello to my daughter, Dani.” She gestures her hand toward me. I notice she didn’t say ‘our daughter’.
I try to speak, but my lips won’t move. I feel my heart skip a beat and realize I’m not breathing. What do I even say to a man I know hardly anything about? Whenever I thought of my father I had always envisioned a rock star or a doctor. The president of a motorcycle club was never on my pretend daddy list.
“Well, hello, Darlin’.” He is indeed charming. I put my hand out to shake his and he starts lifting it toward his mouth as he had done with my mother. I slide my glasses off my face and place them on my head to get a better look at the man I am made from. Just before his lips touch the back of my hand, he looks up at me. In an instant his grin fades and his mouth falls open.
“What the fuck is this, Sadie?” he asks, stunned. His eyes snap frantically between my mother and me.
“Obviously she’s your daughter, Bull,” my mother says sarcastically, with a hint of hatred. “I wouldn’t have asked for your help for just myself.”
The whole crowd of bikers gathers around me like I’m a freak of nature, like I’m a science project. I have no idea what they are looking at, but the way everyone is gawking at me has me feeling uncomfortable and pissed.
Bull looks back at me and sighs heavily. He grabs his sunglasses and slides them off his tanned face. He
has green eyes, like pools of ivy; my eyes. I have my father’s eyes. I now know what everyone is looking at. My breathing becomes heavy, I’m trying to control it but losing the battle. There is so much to take in, this is my father. This is his club. It makes sense now why Shadow acted the way he did when I took my glasses off. As soon as he saw my eyes he knew I was the daughter of his president. I look for him out of the crowd and spot him leaning up against the SUV. He pushes off and starts walking toward us. “Yep, no denying that, Prez,” he says with a chuckle.
I gasp for air, but come up with nothing. My body goes limp. I try to grab onto something, anything, but there is nothing. The darkness overtakes my vision; my knees buckle and I collapse.
----------
My head is pounding as I open my eyes to a dusty ceiling fan in an unfamiliar room. “Where am I?” I croak out, noticing my lungs are not screaming for air anymore.
“You’re in the clubhouse. I brought you to one of the rooms. You fainted,” says a familiar voice. “Your mom and Bull are getting shit straight.” I look beside the bed to find Shadow kneeling there. “You took a spill right outside the club. How’s your head?” he asks, as he brushes my hair behind my ear. His fingers linger by my ear causing a rush of adrenaline to fill my body, making me feel high.
“I-- it’s ok,” I stutter, that familiar feeling of not being able to breathe creeping its way back into my lungs. The man makes me fluster in a way I have never experienced, I have no control of my body when I’m around him.
