STICK: MC ROMANCE NOVELLA (Forsaken Riders MC Romance Book 8)

by Samantha Leal

The barman turned and held the tumbler up to the optic. She watched as the thick, clear liquid ran down and splashed over the big chunks of ice resting at the bottom.

  The barman smiled at her as he slid it across the splintered and chipped bar top and she took it from him meekly.

  “Thank you,” she grinned.

  “Sure, no problem…” He turned and walked down the bar by a couple of feet, and stood and watched her out of the corner of his eye whilst he dried the stack of glasses that were in a wet pile in front of him.

  Emily was aware of his eyes on her, but she didn’t mind. Of course, he was going to be suspicious. From the look of the only other people in the joint, there couldn’t have been many days they got a curvaceous, naughty secretary styled, starlet type blonde bombshell walking through the doors in the middle of the day.

  Emily raised the glass to her lips and took a long, much needed sip. The vodka was just cool enough from the ice and it slipped down her throat effortlessly. She shuddered and winced. She had never been very good with spirits. But she figured this was the perfect time to try.

  She heard the door go behind her and a small group of men, all clad in leather, walked in and made their way over to a booth in the corner. Their boots scuffed across the wooden floor and the smell of stale smoke filtered in with them. Emily was intrigued. She wanted to turn and watch them, but knew that she would only be asking for trouble by drawing attention to herself and the fact that she was there alone.

  She suddenly wished she had chosen to sit at a quiet table. Somewhere not so on show and in the middle of all of the action. She looked over her other shoulder and could see one not far from the front door. But it was too late. If she moved, she would only make herself more of a target. Better to just drink down some more Dutch courage and hope for the best.

  She raised the glass to her lips and swallowed down the rest. She gasped as she pulled it away and the alcohol stung her insides.

  “Someone’s on a mission?” The barman smiled as he idled up to her again and rested both his palms down flat on the counter top. Emily took in the violent tattoos winding their way down his forearms. Blood and gore mixed in with the gnashing of lion’s jaws. “Can I get you another?”

  Emily nodded and exhaled.

  “Yes,” she said quietly. “I think I’m going to need a few more of those.”

  The barman chuckled and swept her glass away before he refilled it and set it back down.

  “So,” he said. “What’s your story?”

  Emily couldn’t help but feel like a cliché. The lone girl who was unhappy with her life and suddenly wanted to live on the wild side. She’d seen it in movies a million times and now here she was… Could she be stumbling into the wrong place at the wrong time? If it wasn’t so concerning, maybe she would have laughed.

  “Just a shitty day,” she offered up, acting nonchalantly. “Needed to unwind.”

  She shrugged as if she did this type of thing all the time and the barman studied her for a few moments more. She put her purse down on the counter top in a bid to reassure him that she wasn’t hiding anything. And she slipped off the high heels from her aching feet and let them rest on the rough wooden bar that ran across the base of the stool. Her court shoes tumbled and collapsed into a little pile underneath her.

  “We all have shitty days, I guess,” he said as he took her glass away and filled it up for her again. The alcohol already had its tight hold on her and she felt warm and fuzzy inside.

  “Yep,” she said. “Well, today, I feel as if I really have earned this.” She had to make a conscious effort to stop herself from drawling. “I’ve had an epiphany!”

  The barman laughed and leaned in closer so his voice was no more than a whisper.

  “That’s all well and good,” he said gently. “But girls like you should be careful coming in places like this,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Wouldn’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention, if you know what I mean...”

  She could only guess what type of men leered in here later in the day, and she was grateful for his warning.

  “I’ll keep to myself,” she assured him. “But thank you.”

  “No problem,” he smiled.

  And then she watched him move over to pick up another glass and fill it with ice cool water.

  “Here,” he said. “Drink this, or no more.”

  “Yes sir,” Emily grinned, feeling as if her random and spontaneous adventure had already led her to make a new friend.

  3.

  The barman called himself Junk and Emily couldn’t help but fall to the side and let her head loll back on her shoulders with intense laughter as he began to tell her why.

  “Ever since I was a teen and started getting close with the ladies,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “I’m very well endowed.”

  Emily wiped the tears of laughter away from the corners of her eyes.

  “But JUNK?” she gasped before bursting into a fit of laughter again. “It just sounds…I don’t know…dirty…”

  He shrugged and winked.

  She had to look away. It was funny, but she couldn’t believe she knew such intimate details of the rough looking man in front of her. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but with a nickname like Junk, she was sure he had some pretty wild stories to tell.

  The bar had filled up slightly since she had arrived and the music was still blaring from the jukebox. From the group of rough looking men in the corner, one guy in particular kept getting to his feet and sauntering over, choosing old eighties hair metal classics such as Kiss and Motley Crue. Even though Emily had never paid much attention to that kind of music before, she found that she recognized almost all of the songs, and even knew most of the lyrics. They had been engraved into her mind, passively and without her knowledge, over the years. And she found herself tapping her feet and singing along.

  Junk was serving another group of bearded men down at the other end of the bar and Emily could tell that they were dangerous. Their beards were long and twisted down to their chests. They wore big, silver rings across their tattooed knuckles and their eyes moved shiftily from side to side.

  Since she had walked into the bar, the only person to pay her any attention had been Junk. But with the arrival of the two new guys at the other end of the bar, she could feel her anxiety rising. There was something about the way they were looking at her. Something about the way they held themselves. She could tell that they were bad and that they wouldn’t have any problem disrespecting or intimidating a woman.

  Emily fidgeted nervously and just hoped that they would continue speaking with Junk and then take a seat somewhere else. Leaving her in peace to enjoy the rest of her afternoon.

  She checked her watch, it was almost three p.m. She had been in the bar for around an hour and a half and she was still warm and fuzzy on the inside, but she was glad that Junk had coached her into pacing herself with the water. She had decided to move away from vodkas and now she was sipping light beers straight from the bottle.

  The guy from the group behind her got to his feet and moved over to the jukebox. This time, he put on another song that Emily recognized but couldn’t place. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she thought that it could be Poison. She turned her head lightly over her shoulder so she could glance a look at him again. Since she had noticed him choosing the majority of the music, he had stuck out to her and she liked the way he moved across the room. He was tall and muscular, his brows were thick and heavy, and made him look as if he was intense and brooding. His shoulders were broad and she could see that he was wearing a leather jacket with a patch on the back. To her, he looked just like a badass, mean biker… And although she had never really thought about how exciting it would be to meet a guy like that, now that she was in the midst of them in the grimy bar… She couldn’t look away…he was certainly holding her attention.

  He noticed her staring and his eyes flicked up to meet hers. They were deep and dark, all encompassing, and Emily swallowed har
d. Her heart was beginning to beat frantically in her chest and her skin prickled with heat.

  Her embarrassment flooded through her and she had to look away. She had never been so brazen before. So full of confidence and want and certainty. She brushed a stand of hair behind her ear and turned back to look behind the bar. Junk had moved away from the men who had earlier unnerved her, but there was no doubt about it, their gaze was fixed solidly on her. They looked as if they were mulling over her position there and whether they should move over and speak to her.

  She willed with every bit of energy that she had that they wouldn’t.

  She looked down at the bottle of beer that she was spinning in her hands and realized that she had nervously removed the label and was ripping it into tiny pieces on the wood in front of her. She shook it away from her fingertips and brought the bottle to her lips with shaking hands.

  The men were still watching her. And with a wave of nausea, she realized that they were moving closer.

  “Well, well, well…” one of them opened with. “What do we have here? A pretty little lady in our dirty old bar?”

  Emily smiled meekly but didn’t turn to face them. She was trying to stay quiet and invisible. However, she knew that she was fighting a losing battle.

  “What brings a gal like you in here then?” the other one spoke. He leaned in close to her and he smelled like stale sweat. Emily had to try her best not to obviously gag.

  “Looks like she don’t want to talk to us,” the other said. “Stuck up bitch probably thinks she’s way too good for guys like us…huh?” He slammed his palm down on the bar top and grunted.

  Emily jumped slightly and turned slowly to face them.

  “As I was just saying to Junk here, I’ve had a lousy day and I just wanted to unwind. I’m not looking for any conversation, thank you.”

  She said it honestly and politely, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Both of them men moved closer, one on either side of her, and she looked from one to the other with panic in her eyes.

  “Please,” she said as calmly as she could, “I really don’t want any trouble.”

  “Too late,” one of them sneered.

  She looked ahead of her and saw Junk dip his gaze and turn to walk away.

  Oh great, she thought, some new friend you are…

  And even though she felt as if the rug had just been pulled out from under her, she couldn’t really blame Junk… He had tried to warn her that this wasn’t the kind of place for girls like her. And she hadn’t listened. He had even tried to stop her drinking. He’d given her the out. And now he didn’t want to be involved. He obviously knew who these guys were and what they were capable of…

  One of the men reached up and took hold of Emily by the back of the neck and began to whisper into her ear…

  “Why don’t you pick up your things and come out back with us sweetheart…” he breathed.

  Her skin was crawling. She could smell the booze on his breath and all she wanted to do was turn and slap him right across the face, but she knew that she couldn’t… Because what the hell could he do to her…?

  Her whole body tensed and she tried to barely move. Her hands were trembling and the other man was moving in close to her now, his hand running up and down her thigh.

  “Hey!” a voice came from behind them and made all three of them jump.

  The two men who had hold of Emily turned and glared at the guy who had interrupted them, and to Emily’s relief, she realized that it was the one who had caught her attention earlier. The man who had been choosing the music and watching her from across the room.

  “What the fuck?” one of the lecherous men asked. “Don’t be getting involved here, Carl.”

  But the music man was undeterred. He looked angry, his fists clenched by his side and he took a meaningful step forward.

  “I mean it,” he hissed. “Move away… now.”

  4.

  It felt as if time was slowing down, and Emily reached forward and gripped the bar top. The two men who had come over and frightened her had now moved away and were in a full raging argument with ‘Carl’, the man she had noticed earlier.

  She turned and tried to focus on them, but it was as if the booze she had been drinking had suddenly chosen that precise moment to wrap her up tightly in its clutches and rock her steadily into a haze of calm and confusion.

  She had been afraid of them. She knew that. But now, as she watched Carl screaming in their faces, shoving his palms flat into their chests and squaring up to them, it was almost as if she was in a dream. Carl, whoever he was, had come to her rescue.

  “Back the fuck off!” he screamed as he slammed his hands into one of the men’s chest again and behind him, Carl’s group of friends ran to back him up.

  Emily noticed that they were all wearing similar leather jackets. It was almost like a uniform.

  So they are definitely bikers… she thought.

  She looked at Junk and noticed he stood there smiling, his mouth twisted into a sinister grin as he twirled a toothpick along the end of his tongue. When he caught her looking, he simply shrugged and winked.

  “Prick,” she whispered as she turned back to watch the fight as it broke out in full force.

  She couldn’t be sure who hit who first, but Carl drove his fists into both of her assailant’s faces and knocked them out cold. He wrung out his fist and held it briefly to his lips. Emily’s eyes were wide and she was in both shock and awe. He had intervened and rescued her so quickly and effortlessly, she almost hadn’t had time to register it.

  “Oh my god,” she whispered, looking down at the bloodied faces of the two men who were crumpled in a heap on the ground in the middle of the bar floor.

  “Get them out of here,” her rescuer said. “And I never want to see them in here again… You got that Junk?” He said it so forcefully she was sure he was spitting.

  Junk bowed his head and momentarily looked ashamed.

  “Sure Carl,” he said obediently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were going to…”

  “Save it,” Carl cut him off.

  Carl glared at Junk and Junk quickly moved out from behind the back of the bar and jogged to where the two man lay beaten and unconscious. He and two of the others from Carl’s gang lifted them under the armpits and began to drag them toward the back door. As they kicked it open, the sunlight from the outside filtered in and suddenly, Emily was shaken awake. It was still the middle of the day… What was she doing?

  She looked up at Carl who stood in front of her, his chest still heaving with exertion and his anger still palpable from across the small distance between them.

  “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I’ll leave…that was all my fault…I shouldn’t be here.”

  She got to her feet and struggled to slip them into her court shoes. She reached forward and scooped up her purse and her jacket before she turned to find Carl only centimeters away from her.

  “No,” he said calmly. “You don’t have to do that.”

  They were so close she was sure he would be able to hear her heart beating. It was thumping loudly in her chest and her pulse rushed through her ears.

  He pulled up another stool and sat down on it before he reached around her and pulled the one she had been sitting on closer.

  “Sit down,” he said with a smile.

  Emily just wanted to get out of there and back to a part of town that she knew…but he had just rescued her from two horrible creeps. The least she could do was say thank you and buy him a drink.

  “Okay,” she said as she sat down. “But I’m buying… What are you having?”

  “No chance,” Carl grinned. “Junk!” he called as the barman came running back to his position.

  “Get me my usual and whatever the lady desires,” he smiled at her, his eyes looking up and meeting hers from under his deep brow.

  “Same again, Junk,” she said cockily with a grin.

  “So we haven’t been forma
lly introduced,” he continued as he held out his hand. “I’m Carl, and I own this bar.”

  Emily was taken aback. Even though she had figured he knew the people in there and could tell he had some kind of say in the place, she didn’t think for one second he would have been the owner. He looked too young and rugged… She expected this kind of joint to be ran by an older man with a whole lifetime of experience and stories to tell.

  “Emily,” she smiled as she held out her hand too and the pair shook.

  Even though he was clearly a man on the outside of mainstream society, Carl was easy to talk to and he instantly had put her at ease. He passed her her bottle of beer and slid a twenty note across the counter to Junk.

  “I thought you said you owned the place?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “I do,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I get a free ride…”

  She remembered that she hadn’t paid for a drink since the second she had walked in and felt embarrassed.

  “I just assumed they’d have set up a tab or something,” she whispered.

  “What, like you got when you walked in,” he sipped on his whisky with an amused twinkle in his eye.

  “Erm…” she stammered.

  “Relax,” he laughed, “I had a word with Junk and told him all of your drinks were on me.”

  She was stunned.

  “What?” she laughed. “But we’ve only just started talking?”

  His eyes glinted and she was sure that if she looked into them long enough, they could swallow her whole; they were so deep and intense.

  “I obviously saw you the second you walked in,” he said confidently. “And I have to admit, I was intrigued.”

  “Oh yeah?” Emily took a sip of her beer. “Why?”

  “Well, like the other’s said, it’s not often girls like you end up in a place like this…” He ran his tongue along his bottom lip and Emily couldn’t help but let her eyes follow it, and she felt her pulse quicken again. “And, I guess, maybe it was the outfit and the ballsy attitude. I can tell you’re a handful… And I like a handful…”