The Biker's Religion (Rough Riders MC Book 2)

by Shelly Morgan

  Turning on my heels, I book it outta there before I do something about the thoughts rolling around in my head. Amy calls out, asking me to bring her bag in. Grabbing it, I practically toss it in and close the door without even looking in the room because I can hear the faucet running and I know she’s seconds away from being naked. Fuck, I need to get out of here.

  “I gotta go make a call. Be back soon,” I yell as I stomp out of the room and into the elevator, my heart racing and cock trying to break through my zipper.

  Off the elevator, I quickly make my way outside and into the fresh air. Fuck, how can I not wait for this weekend to be over, but never want it to end at the same time? One thing I know for certain though, this will be a weekend I’ll never forget, one way or another.

  ***

  Two hours and three beers in the lobby bar later, I’m knocking on the bathroom door. “Amy, are you about ready?” Not like I want to hurry up and get to this fucking wedding shit, but I’m ready to get it over with.

  “Be right out,” she yells through the door.

  Making my way back into the bedroom where I have my bag, I look at myself in the mirror once more. I’m wearing a long sleeve black button-down shirt, dark wash jeans, and my black boots. My cut is laying over the chair, and grabbing it, I put it on, feeling better seeing the worn patches and my name stitched across my chest. It’s funny how wearing something can make you feel better. The anxiety I’ve had for the past hour seems to float away with the weight of the leather.

  I hear the bathroom door open seconds before I see her. My breath leaves me and my heart pounds loudly in my chest. She’s wearing a short, red strapless dress that leaves little to the imagination. Her feet are encased in red strappy heels. Her legs are pale but toned. And her hair falls in long waves down one shoulder.

  “Fuck me,” I breathe out without even thinking. My head is going crazy just looking at this woman in front of me. She radiates pure, raw sex.

  “Oh, I plan on it, but not until after the party,” Amy sasses. Meeting her eyes, she’s smiling seductively, and then she winks before laughing at how funny I must look right now, but I don’t even care.

  Shaking my head, I clear the fog from it as best I can. We just need to get this shit over with so I can get her back here and out of that dress. I’m just not sure if I want her to stay naked after or just have her wear anything but that dress. Fuck, she wears that like it was made just for her.

  She grabs her purse and we head out the door. The elevator is long and torturous, but I made it through without ripping that dress off her and devouring her whole right then and there. I had to close my eyes and hold my breath because holy hell she smells good, but whatever, I still managed to succeed, that’s all that matters.

  I make sure she’s in the truck before I take a moment to breathe and try to calm my racing heart and thoughts. When I feel marginally better, I hop in the truck with her and pull out of the parking lot.

  We don’t make it far before she asks, “So, tell me about you and your ex. What happened?”

  I knew this line of questioning was coming, and honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t ask before now. Sighing, I try to decide what to tell her, but decide I might as well start at the beginning. She’s doing this for me, so it’s the least I can do.

  “I was fresh out of high school, unsure what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to go to college, but didn’t have the money, and there was no way in hell anyone would lend money to me since my family was poor. I had worked all through high school just so I had food in my stomach and to help my mom with bills, but we were barely staying afloat.”

  I think back on those times and wonder how we ever made it. Mom worked two jobs, but without a college degree, she could only find work as a waitress and a maid. And those don’t pay very good. So I got a job working at the local garage, where Marty took me under his wing. I wasn’t licensed to be working on vehicles, but he let me help him when no one else was around. I loved it so much, I knew that I wanted to go to school to become a mechanic. But that shit ain’t cheap.

  “After graduation, I moved us to a small town just outside of Houston where they had a small community college a few blocks away from the university. And since we didn’t have the money for me to start school right away, I got a job in a small repair shop. But the owner wasn’t like Marty. He hired me to be a parts person and work the front desk. I wasn’t making enough money fast enough, so I got a job at one of the college bars down the street to work at night.”

  “Let me guess, that’s where you met her?” Amy asks, probably thinking this is just like any other college love story. Boy meets girl at the bar and they fall head over heels for each other.

  Laughing, I shake my head. “Actually, the first time I met Brittany, she came into the shop for an oil change and I was working the desk.”

  “Well, that’s no fun. Where’s the debauchery and wild nights?”

  “I hate to disappoint you, sweetheart, but when I first met her, she wasn’t like that. She focused on her studies and never went out. You see, her parents were rich and groomed her to be proper,” I almost growl the last part out. I hate her parents with a passion because they were ultimately the reason for her madness. They made her into the monster she became. Or maybe I was just young and naïve and never saw the devil in her eyes.

  “Lame,” she says, bringing her hand up to her mouth and pretending to yawn.

  Again, she makes me laugh. I hate thinking about those days with Brittany and how she broke my heart all those years ago, let alone talking about it with someone. So the fact that she’s making this easier makes my cold, dead heart feel a little warmer.

  “Yeah, well, that didn’t last long,” I say, my voice losing a little of my cheer. “Things started slow with us; going out for lunch between her classes and my work schedule. Then, after a few weeks, she invited me to a movie with her friends. And as much as I wanted to go, I had to work that night at the bar. It was going to be a busy night with all the college kids back in town from break and the bar was going all out with a band and drink specials. But instead of being upset, she said she understood and said she’d text me later.

  “But by midnight, I had yet to hear from her. I thought maybe she really was mad about me not going to the movie with her and I was beating myself up over the whole situation. It’s not like I could have really called in or even afforded to not work that night, but I really liked her and didn’t want this to be the reason we never hung out again.”

  Thinking back to that night and the feelings of hopelessness I had makes me sick to my stomach. I was so young and stupid.

  “Did she give you the cold shoulder? If she did, I’m going to hate her more than I already do, because that’s bullshit. Not all of us can grow up worry free and live off of Daddy’s money,” Amy comments, sounding bitter. I don’t blame her though. I don’t know her whole story, but I know she didn’t grow up privileged. She may not have struggled as much as my mom and I did, but she didn’t have it easy either.

  “No, she didn’t give me the cold shoulder. She actually showed up at the bar that night, surprising the shit out of me. She looked so outta place there too, wearing her tan slacks, a stiff looking button up shirt, and one of those sweater things around her shoulders.” I laugh, just thinking about how ridiculous she looked that night.

  “She brought some of her friends to the bar with her, who didn’t seem as sheltered as she was, because they were drinking and have a grand ol’ time. But once they talked her into having a few shots with them, Brittany started loosening up and having fun. And I think it was then that I started to fall for her. Watching her eyes come to life as she finally let loose, it was amazing to watch.”

  I pause, concentrating on the road for a moment, needing a break from memory lane. That was the start of our downward spiral.

  Amy asks in a quiet voice, seeming to sense this is the part where it gets harder to tell. “What happened after that?”

  �
��After that, it was like a switch had been flipped. She wasn’t so hesitant anymore. It was as if she were looking at the world in a whole different light. She wanted to experience life and all its glory. Studies weren’t as important to her anymore, instead she wanted to have fun, be wild. And I helped her. We went from one extreme to the next; racing her car down long, deserted streets and partying all night long.

  “You see, even though I didn’t grow up like her, I still never experienced life like that before. I hung out with friends, sure, and even drank before. But with her, it was like the sky was the limit and we could do anything. I didn’t have any worries and felt like all was right in the world. With her by my side, I felt like I was the richest man alive.”

  Shaking my head, I sigh. “We were together for three years, living every day like it was our last. I no longer cared about anything except her. It didn’t matter if I lost my jobs or if my mom was able to pay rent, or even if I ate that day. I didn’t even care about going to school anymore. I saved up money to buy a motorcycle because she had wanted to know what it was like to ride. She was all I cared about. I wanted nothing more than to give her anything and everything she ever wanted. All I could see was her. All I wanted was her. She had become my whole life. I loved her more than I thought anyone could ever love someone. And I thought she felt the same way for me too.

  “But when graduation neared and I started making plans for our future, she was different. Instead of wanting to spend all her free time with me, she started standing me up, cancelling plans, and being distant. I thought it was just the stress of her final tests and graduating, maybe even the fear of telling her parents that she wasn’t going to follow the path they wanted for her.”

  I start to vibrate with hate and anger. How people like them live with themselves day in and day out is beyond me. Sure, I’m considered a criminal and I do bad things. I’ve killed people, done drugs, lie, and steal. I’m no doubt going to hell for the shit I do and the life I live. But that’s nothing compared to Brittany. At least I’m upfront about who I am. I don’t put on a show and manipulate people.

  “It had been almost a week since I had heard anything from her. I had texted her, called her, and even went as far as going to her sorority house to find her, but it was all for nothing. Until one night she came into one of the downtown bars we’d frequent a lot. I could tell right away that something was different when I saw her. She ignored me, even when I waved her over. She just smiled and shook her head. She was treating me like I was beneath her. She and her friends sat at a booth near the back, but still so I could see them. I wanted to go over there so bad, but I was confused and a little hurt by her actions. They all kept looking over at me, covering their mouths and laughing like they were all talking shit about me. It pissed me off, but I was going to just leave and say fuck it. I cared a lot about her, but I wasn’t going to deal with that shit.

  “But what stopped me and ultimately drove me over the edge was when I saw one of the guys she was with begin to flirt with her. He had his hands all over her and she didn’t push him away. And when he pulled her close and kissed her, she kept her eyes open and stared at me over his shoulder, daring me to do something. I snapped. I’d heard people talk about being so mad all they saw was red. I never understood that until that night.”

  “What did you do?” Amy asks, sounding pissed for me, but I also hear heartache in her voice.

  Looking over at her, I know I have the same evil look in my eyes now as I did that night. But she’s not afraid. She knows it’s just leftover feelings from that night. So when I tell her what happened, she just sits there and takes it all in, never once seeming like she’s afraid of me or asking me to stop the truck so she can call the nearest cab service to take her to the airport so she can get as far away from me as possible.

  “I charged them and ripped him away from her. It was like I was possessed when I punched him, over and over again, even when he was no longer conscious and his face unrecognizable. It took four police officers to pull me off of him, and that was after they got me with their taser.

  “Brittany was crying and yelling at me to stop, but I knew it wasn’t because she felt sorry for what she did or because she was afraid for the man I almost killed. No, it was because I ruined her night and the face of some rich fucker’s son. But when I got to the police station and she followed to give her statement, I could see the glee in her eyes, happy about what happened. It’s like she wanted me to do that. She wanted to see my reaction and I didn’t disappoint. I guess it was just one last wild adventure she wanted before going back to the lifestyle of her parents.”

  I let the open road calm me for a second, though it would work a lot better if I were on my bike instead of trapped inside this cage of a truck. But when my pulse settles to normal, I tell her the rest of what happened.

  “After she gave her statement, she somehow talked the officers into letting her into my holding room to talk to me. I’m sure a lot of money was involved.”

  “What did she say to you?” Amy asks, sitting up forward in her seat, never taking her eyes off of me.

  “She told me that it was over between us. That I was just a phase for her. A ride on the wild side before she had to settle down. I’m ashamed to say that I tried to talk her out of that decision even after what she did to me. I told her that we could run away together and she wouldn’t have to go back to her parents. I could take care of her and we could live like we had for the past three years. She didn’t have to let any of that go. I was stupid, but you have to understand, I thought I loved her and would have forgiven her for anything,” I say, shaking my head. “And that’s when she told me that I wasn’t good enough for her. She laughed at me for ever believing she’d stay with a guy like me forever. I was just a placeholder, someone to let her live out her wild fantasies and have fun with before she would settle down with a rich, ordinary man. Someone who would be able to give her the lifestyle she was used to. She wanted a big house, lots of expensive jewelry, nice clothes, and fancy cars. That was what was important to her, nothing else. And then she left. I spent the night in jail until the judge sentenced me to a year of probation and a few thousand dollars of fines. I guess the guy didn’t press charges, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but the damage had been done. I didn’t care if I spent the rest of my life in jail, because it was like I was dead when she said those things and walked out that door. I no longer cared about anything. I became hard and emotionless. A cold bastard.”

  There. Now she knows every detail about what happened between Brittany and myself. She knows how stupid I was to fall for a girl like her and how pathetic I was to believe I was good enough for someone like her.

  She’s quiet for a while, but that doesn’t bother me. I need the silence to close the past up in my mind again, though I know it’s useless, because as soon as I walk into that party, everything will come back to me again. Fuck, maybe we should just turn around and head back to the hotel. Then I can drink all of this away. I don’t need to see that lying bitch again. It’s not like anything I do will teach her a lesson anyway. She’s more heartless than I am.

  Suddenly, Amy reaches across the seat and takes my hand in hers. Looking over to her, I’m surprised I don’t see pity or sadness in her eyes. Instead, all I see is pure rage. “I’m sorry that happened to you, but I’m not sorry you’re no longer with her. You’re better off without her, and tonight, you and me are going to prove exactly what she’s missing.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Amy

  Pulling into what looks to be some fancy dinner club resort, I quietly and patiently wait until Ice Man collects himself. After what he just told me, I can understand that. What that woman did to him is horrible. How can people be so hurtful with their actions and words? I mean, I get that she was sheltered and just wanted to live a little. I can’t resent her for that. But for using someone like she did Ice Man, that I will hold a grudge for.

  I wish I was the type of person to j
ust let it slide, but I’m not. Not when it comes to someone I care about, and over the last few months, Ice Man has come to mean so much to me. I’m angry because he’s angry over what Brittany did to him. And I hurt because he hurt over what happened. Which only makes me want to hurt her. Maybe not in the physical sense, because let’s be honest, I’m not that type of girl, though I’m sure if push came to shove, I could do some damage. But I want to hurt her in other ways, and I plan to do just that. Because that I have the power to do.

  Finally, Ice Man looks at me, but his face is blank of any emotion. “You ready?”

  Deciding not to bring it to his attention what his stone coldness does to me, I nod and open my door to get out, but he’s not having that. He may seem like he doesn’t care right now, but he does, at least for me. So I give this to him and wait for him to come over to my side of the door before smiling at him and doing what I do best—making him smile and forget about the world, if only for a second.

  “Such a true southern gentleman. But later, I want the bucking cowboy.” I wink at him and step down from the high standing truck.

  “You know, you’re going to be the death of me, I swear,” he says, but I can hear the smile in his voice, so I know my words did their magic.

  “Only if it’s death by orgasm, which if I might add, would be the best way to go.”

  We’re quiet the rest of the way up to the doors. There is a doorman with a clipboard, and when he sees us coming, he turns his nose up. It makes me laugh on the inside. These people really are full of themselves.

  “I’m sorry, but this is a closed party,” he tells us, then turns to look at everything except us. Asshole.

  “We know. We’re guests,” I say, my voice sugar sweet.

  Now, he looks at us with surprise, but that doesn’t last long. “Funny. But seriously, I’m sure there’s a bar or club down the road that would suit your kind better.”