Biker's Bride: A Bad Boy Romance (Demons MC)

by B. B. Hamel

  Another cheer, this time louder. Men stood up and banged on tables, and I saw the first smile from Larkin. It was a terrifying thing, full of menace.

  I looked around at the men, surprised and a bit terrified. Why were they really cheering? Worse, what had I started?

  “Isn’t war bad?” I asked Ford.

  He shook his head. “Not necessarily. War brings more money, more territory. Plus, the boys will be boys.”

  “But what about the guys from last night?”

  “Well,” Ford said, “some guys don’t want it. Can’t pretend like we’re of one mind on all things.” He looked at me seriously. “But if the club asks them to die, they’ll die. That’s how it is.”

  A voice cutting through the commotion drew my attention. I looked across the room.

  “Caralee,” Larkin called out. “Come with me.”

  Fear iced my guts.

  “Better go,” Ford said.

  I stood. “You sure?” I said to him.

  “Go. You’re fine.”

  I gave him one last look, that gorgeous asshole, and walked across the room. The guys were all still cheering, and some were already drinking. Larkin nodded and led me through the commotion and into his back room.

  Chapter Eight: Ford

  Four years ago

  Hours after I dropped Caralee off at her place, I could still feel the damn tingle in my cock where she had rubbed herself crazy. We’d made sure her dad was passed out before she went inside, and I’d made her promise to come to my place if things got bad.

  Otherwise, I had the worst damn blue balls of my fucking life. After getting off like that, she’d collapsed back down onto the bench, and we’d spent the next hour or two talking about our lives.

  I’d never done that before. Normally, if she were any other slut, I would have bent her over that fucking bench and ravaged her stupid. Instead, I found myself talking about my mom and dad, about her drunk ass, about growing up in a fucked-up home.

  And she told me her own sob story, which wasn’t too far off from mine. Difference was, I could defend myself, but she never could.

  I clenched my jaw, pissed as all hell thinking about her dad beating her up like that. The bastard didn’t know what was right or wrong, but he got away with it because he was a fucking cop.

  I showered and dressed, glancing at the clock. I had to be at my uncle’s auto body shop in an hour if I was going to make it in time for my shift. I figured I might as well skip sleep for the time being. I’d probably just wake up with a pillow between my legs and Caralee’s fucking sexy-as-hell body in my brain.

  I made some coffee and checked on my mother. Passed out drunk as always, which was fine with me. Better than driving drunk or trying to beat on me, though she’d stopped trying that a while ago.

  I chugged the black stuff, ate some food quick, and then went outside. I hopped on my bike and began the ride out toward my uncle’s.

  Once there, I clocked in and got to work. It wasn’t pretty work, but it was honest and paid pretty good. My mom wasn’t much into working, and we needed to feed ourselves, so it was up to me to put groceries on the table. Mom spent her welfare check on fucking booze and pills, so there was that.

  They showed up halfway through my damn shift.

  The bastards just strolled in. Didn’t read me my rights, didn’t say nothing. Just flashed their badges, threw me in cuffs, and hauled my ass off.

  I’d never thought the cops were evil. I’d never hated them. They were just men doing their damn jobs, and you had to respect that. But after they arrested me for a crime I didn’t commit, I hated the police, fucking hated them with a passion.

  I’d done time before. Nothing major, nothing more than a couple of months in juvenile detention, but they were serious this time, said I’d robbed some house a few blocks from where I lived.

  The judge barely even looked at me. He said my name, read the charges, and said guilty. I’d never gone through the system so damn fast.

  The day after I knocked a cop on his ass and nearly fucked his daughter, I ended up in prison for six months.

  In some ways, that was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. It’s demeaning to be locked up for something you didn’t do, locked up because you pissed off the wrong cop. Worse, I knew I’d lost Caralee, knew I could never go back to her, never face her again. As far as the fucking world knew, I was just another dumbass criminal kid, and that was all I’d ever be.

  But in other ways, it was the best.

  It happened one day a week into my stay. I’d just sat down with my food in the mess hall, eating like my life depended on it.

  “New kid,” some fat guy said from behind me. “Give me your fucking pudding, son.”

  I looked back at him. “Fuck off.”

  Some guys laughed and he grinned. “I’ll ask again. Pudding. Now.”

  I shook my head and went back to eating.

  He grabbed the back of my hair and slammed my face into my tray. Hurt like a fucking bitch and sent stars swimming across my vision.

  But I was up on my feet in a second. The fat guy was strong for his size, but I was stronger. I flipped my tray up and smashed it down onto his skull. He tried to tackle me, but I stepped aside, letting him sprawl out onto the ground. I got a few good kicks in before the guards came and threw me in solitary.

  The Demons came for me the day I got out. I was in the yard, minding my own damn business, when he walked right up to me. Big fucker with a missing tooth.

  “You fight pretty good, son,” he said to me.

  “I’m not anybody’s son.”

  “You ride motorcycles, kid?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Why? Wanna become friends and talk about them?”

  He laughed. “You hate the world, huh? That’s okay.”

  “Don’t hate the world. Just hate this fucking place.”

  “True. Can’t fault that.” He leaned up against the wall next to me. “You ever heard of the Demons Motorcycle Club?”

  I hadn’t, of course. Maybe whispers, but I never really knew much about it. That day, that man recruited me, made me into a pledge. When I got out, the brothers brought me to the clubhouse, made me go through the whole pledge hazing shit, and eventually turned me into a brother.

  That was how it all started. That fight, that guy, that prison. Another guy, another prison, and maybe I never would have joined the Demons MC. Maybe I would have met a nice girl, got married, had kids.

  Probably not, though.

  After that, I’d think about Caralee sometimes. I’d think about her fondly.

  But as soon as I got too fond of her memory, I’d find some club slut to suck my cock for me until I couldn’t think of anything else.

  That was my life. Blood, cum, the fucking club.

  I never thought I needed anything else.

  Chapter Nine: Caralee

  “Sit,” Larkin said. We were in an office, a pretty normal-looking office all things considered. I sat down in a chair, and he sat down behind the desk.

  He eyed me quietly for a few minutes, and I shifted in my chair nervously.

  “Uh,” I said finally, breaking the silence, “thank you. For helping me.”

  “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Thank Ford.”

  “I did that.”

  “Good.” He stared at me some more.

  I’d never been so uncomfortable, so afraid in my whole life. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a shotgun leaning against the wall, and I wondered how many people it had killed.

  “What do you know about the Rebel club?” Larkin asked me finally.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Rod was a member, but that’s it.”

  He nodded. “We confirmed that. Your friend, Rod, was a member.”

  “You talked to them?”

  “We have phones.” He looked down at his desk. “Cops found his body this morning. Any chance you’ll be connected?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “Touch any
thing? Leave anything behind?”

  “I touched his bike.”

  “You wear gloves when you go for rides?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I had gloves on.”

  “Probably fine then.” He sighed, looking at me again. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why would Ford speak up for you?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t lie to me, girl. I’ve seen more than you could even guess at, and I know a lie when I hear it.”

  “We knew each other. When we were kids.”

  “Ah,” he said. “Knew each other.”

  “We were neighbors.”

  “Neighbors that fucked?”

  I blushed. “No. We weren’t like that.”

  “Just friends then.” He grunted, nodding. “So explain why he’d claim you.”

  “He said that he had no other choice.”

  “He could have come to me,” Larkin said.

  “I don’t know why then.”

  “The Rebels are pissed,” he said. “They want your ass, think you’re involved somehow. Are you?”

  “No,” I said. “Rod was my friend.”

  “Didn’t think so. Now we got the Rebels and whoever killed the kid coming for you. That’s a lot of trouble.”

  “What about your speech out there?” I snapped.

  “You got a mouth on you,” he said slowly, and he smiled at me. I felt my blood run cold.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  He leaned farther back in his chair and crossed his arms. “You know what it means when a man claims you and you don’t say no?”

  “Means I’m his, I guess,” I said.

  “Yeah, true, but it’s more than that. For us, it’s a serious bond, a serious thing. You could say it’s like getting married.”

  I went totally still. “Married?”

  “That’s right,” he said. “Ford didn’t tell you that part?”

  “No,” I said softly, horrified.

  “For us, claiming a woman is saying you’re going to marry her. It’s like getting engaged.”

  “No,” I said again, shaking my head. “No way.”

  “You’re deep in this now, girl,” Larkin said.

  “Just let me go,” I said quickly. “Just let me walk away. I can handle things myself.”

  “Well,” he sighed, “that’s interesting.”

  “Please. I won’t bother you guys again.”

  “Problem is, you already did bother us. You heard the boys out there, right? They’re all fired up now.”

  “I’ll talk to them, tell them it was all a mistake.”

  He laughed a short, barking laugh. “Sorry, kid. You’re engaged to Ford, like it or not.”

  “You can’t make me get married.”

  “I can’t?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “If I say you get married, you get fucking married.”

  “Please. Can’t I just stay claimed?”

  “I thought about that. But if you can’t tell, my club is pretty divided over this war issue. Half the boys think you should be tossed out on your ass regardless of what Ford said.” He stood up, pressing his palms flat on the desk. “I say you marry him. That way, we’re deep in this thing, like it or not.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. Larkin stared down at me, cold and brutal, a tiny hint of a menacing smile on his lips.

  Marry Ford. That was what he had been trying to say back in my apartment. He had tried to explain it, but I hadn’t wanted to listen. Claiming wasn’t just saying something was yours; it was a promise. He had promised to marry me, and I hadn’t fought him on it.

  Last night, I had thought I needed his protection. I probably still did. But I could already see that there was so much more happening besides my well-being, something way above my head. Larkin had his own agenda, wanted to get into a war for some reason, and he thought if I married Ford, then they’d have to fight to keep me safe.

  “I can’t,” I said softly. “Please.”

  “You’re going to marry him,” Larkin said. “If it helps at all, I doubt Ford really wants to marry you, either. Boy’s been inside more club whores than anyone else I know. But he made his choice, and so did you.”

  “You can’t force me,” I said.

  “I can force you. But I won’t have to.” He stood up and crossed his arms. “Ford will. Now get out.”

  I stood up, my knees shaking, my gut a twisted mess. “This is crazy,” I said.

  “Welcome to the Demons MC,” he said, laughing.

  I turned and left his office, completely stunned.

  Last night I had watched my friend get murdered in cold blood in front of me. Now I was somehow a part of some gang war that I wanted nothing to do with.

  And to top it all off, I was going to have to marry that cocky asshole from my past. Ford Cook, deliciously attractive, absolutely crude, a total asshole.

  I looked up at him, and he was looking at me from across the room. I couldn’t read his expression, but I could tell he knew.

  I shook my head once. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t marry him. He had his chance that night at the lake, but he decided to disappear and never talk to me again. He had his chance and he blew it. I knew what I meant to him, and that was absolutely nothing.

  I wasn’t going to be his property. I wasn’t going to be some thing he could just lay claim to and keep however he wanted.

  I wasn’t going to be his damn wife.

  I took off, walking fast across the room, threw the door open, and just started running.

  Screw danger. I wasn’t marrying some biker asshole.

  Even if that biker asshole was Ford.

  Chapter Ten: Ford

  I watched her walk fast across the room.

  “Shit,” I muttered to myself. It was pretty obvious what she was about to do.

  I watch as she opened the door and just booked it out of there, running hard.

  I got to my feet.

  “We got a runner!” one of the boys called out.

  I silenced him with a glare as I went after her.

  Damn girl is going to be the death of me, I thought as I tore ass after her.

  She wasn’t exactly fast. I saw her turn a corner up ahead as I quickly hopped on my bike, kicking it into gear. I sped down the alley after her, tearing rubber around the corner.

  She looked back over her shoulder, determination etched on her face. I revved my engine and followed her. She cut left down another alley.

  I had to go the long way. I went around the block, running a few red lights on the way, and came around to the other side. Caralee had already come out of the alley and was hauling ass down the street.

  I quickly sped down along the block, hopping up onto the curb, scaring the shit out of the pedestrians. I tore along, passing her on the left, and then slammed my brakes and swung my bike around.

  She came to a halt right in front of me.

  “Enough,” I said to her. “Get on.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m done with this. No way.”

  I grunted and killed the engine, climbing off the bike. Some pedestrians were still milling about, but I scared them off with a look. You didn’t wander around our neighborhood without knowing what the cut on my jacket meant.

  It meant you minded your own fucking business around us.

  “You think I want this?” I asked her.

  “I don’t know what you want.”

  I grabbed her shoulders and pressed her up against the wall. I felt a thrill run through my body at the defiant, strong look she gave me.

  “I don’t want to marry you, Caralee,” I spat. “Not in the slightest.”

  “Good. Then let me go.”

  “No,” I said. “I also don’t want to see your throat cut because you’re too stupid to do what’s right.”

  “How is marrying you the right thing?”

  “You got yourself into this,” I said, “not me. You wen
t with some dumb fuckwad to a drug deal and ended up getting dragged into a club war.”

  “I don’t want any of this,” she said, pushing my chest. I didn’t budge an inch.

  “I know you don’t. You think I want to be married to you?”

  “So then don’t. Un-claim me. Whatever you need to do.”

  “No,” I growled at her. “Larkin says we marry, so we marry. We make this claim thing legit so that the other boys won’t fucking rebel.”

  “I don’t care if the boys rebel,” she said, pushing harder. I growled at her and she backed off. “I don’t know how I ended up here,” she said more softly.

  “You’re here now,” I said, backing off slightly. She was slumped against the wall, head hanging down. “Face it, Caralee. This shit is happening. You can run away, maybe skip town, maybe get to the cops.” I paused so that this part sank in. “But if you do that, you’re dead. This isn’t a fucking game. If there were some other way, you better fucking believe I wouldn’t be marrying you.”

  She looked back up at me, that defiant look again, and I felt my cock stir, excitement flowing through me. We were so close, standing there on the sidewalk. She looked so sad, confused, angry, but most of all, fucking gorgeous. It was all so damn messed up, but all I wanted to do was bend her the fuck over against that wall and make her come with my thick cock.

  “Fine,” she said finally. “I’ll go along with this for now. But as soon as I say I’m done, then I’m done.”

  I grunted again. “Whatever you say.”

  “Promise me. If I say it’s done, it’s done. We divorce, whatever, and I’m gone.”

  “If that’s what you need, fine. You say so and I’ll divorce your ass. You’ll be free.”

  She glared at me. “Good.”

  “Come on,” I said, climbing back onto my bike. She got onto the back, clinging to my body, and I drove us back to the clubhouse.

  The whole damn thing was crazy. I didn’t know what Larkin was up to, but he seemed to be on my side. I was surprised that he was interested in protecting the girl when it could potentially mean a serious war.