Loving The Biker (MC Biker Romance)

by Cassie Alexandra

  “He did look a little uncomfortable,” mused Raina.

  “What about you two?” I asked. “You set a date yet?”

  “Not yet,” said Raina, giving me the look. The one that said to drop the subject. I knew that Tank was pushing for a wedding harder than she was. But, she’d been married before and wasn’t in any kind of rush to walk down the aisle again.

  I shoved Hoss’s small phone back into the front of my jeans. “You having a big church wedding?”

  “Yes,” said Tank.

  “No,” said Raina, at the same time.

  They looked at each other.

  He put his arm over her shoulders. “Baby, you know that I’ll do whatever you want, but… I gotta tell you… the guys expect a big hoopla of a wedding. So does Frannie.”

  Raina’s first wedding had turned out to be much more expensive than originally planned. She always said that if she had to do it over again, she’d elope.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” said Raina.

  “Sure.” Tank looked back at me. “By the way, Ice, we have church at two. I want you there today.”

  In the past, I hadn’t been invited to many of the weekly meetings, so this was surprising. In general, Prospects were not privy to a lot of the private matters. I had a feeling that me being a former Devil’s Ranger, made them even more tight-lipped. I understood why, but it was a little disconcerting.

  “Sounds good. I’ll be there,” I said, curious as to why I’d been invited.

  With his arm still around Raina, he pulled her away from the bike and the couple headed toward the clubhouse. “Hoss’s inside… probably on Facebook,” he said, over his shoulder.

  I snorted.

  Hoss had recently set up an account and was already addicted. He was “Friending” everyone and getting messages from women in all parts of the world, some of them “enthralled with his handsome photo”. Hoss wasn’t a bad looking guy, and I imagined that if he bathed more and lost a few inches around his beer gut, in turn… he might attract women here in town. But, he seemed to be intrigued with the ones online.

  We’d all tried to warn him about scam artists, but Hoss insisted that the women messaging him were the real deal. That they liked bikers, even ones old enough to be their grandfather.

  I followed Tank and Raina into the clubhouse and sought out Hoss. He was sitting at the bar aloe and on his laptop.

  “Here’s your cell phone,” I said, noticing that he was on Facebook again.

  “Thanks. How’s Homer?” He held out his hand and I gave it to him.

  “Fine. Thanks for the warning,” I said dryly.

  He laughed hoarsely. “You wouldn’t have went over there if I’d have told you the truth.”

  “Sure I would have. But I’d have been more prepared to face ‘Cerberus’,’” I said, staring at his screen.

  He gave me a confused look. “Cerberus?”

  “It’s from Greek mythology. Cerberus was the hound of Hades. Who the fuck is Lana?”

  “This chick from Florida. She has the hots for me,” he said, smiling proudly. “Hell, she thinks she loves me. Can’t say I blame her.”

  I sighed. “Love? Really? You’ve gotta be shitting me….”

  His face darkened. “What?”

  “Think about it. Lana claims to be in love with you. Already. You don’t find that fishy?” I replied, watching as he began typing a message to a blond, twenty-something hottie who had sent him a picture of herself in black lingerie. Her looks alone told me that she was up to something.

  “We’ve been messaging each other now for the last three days,” he explained. “She claims that she has feelings for me. I’ve seen guys around here fall for a chick in less time than that.”

  Still frowning, I shook my head. “Jesus, you know, ‘she’ is probably really a ‘he’… and one of those romance scammers.”

  “A what?”

  “It was on the news a while back. Basically, it’s the same-old shit. People getting swindled out of money by assholes who pretend to be someone they’re not. They prey mostly on lonely people.”

  “I’m not lonely, although most of my best friends are six feet under now,” he said, looking me out of the corner of his eye.

  Ouch. Talk about cutting in deep.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly, feeling like shit. The shame of knowing I’d been a part of that was sometimes enough to make me want to walk out of the clubhouse and never return. I’m not sure what held me back from doing just that, though. Maybe I was looking for a way to redeem myself. Or, maybe I was doing it for Raina. All I knew for sure was that we both had our own demons to conquer when it came to Slammer.

  Hoss didn’t respond right away. He pulled out a cigarette and stuck it into his mouth. “Whether you’re sorry or not, isn’t going to change anything. Isn’t going to bring him back.”

  “Hoss-”

  Hoss held up his hand. “Hey, I can’t have this conversation with you,” he said, his voice hard. “I want you to know, however, that I don’t hold you personally responsible. You feel me?”

  All I could do was nod.

  “Shit happened and it’s over,” he continued, as if trying to convince himself of it more than me. “We can move beyond it or hold grudges.”

  I could tell that he wasn’t finished, so I remained quiet.

  “I guess that if Tank can find it in his heart to forgive you, then I’m willing to do the same. I just… don’t want to talk about it. Wounds are still too fresh.”

  “I understand,” I replied.

  He removed the unlit cigarette from his mouth and sniffed along the edge. “Damn, I miss these things. Almost as much as beaver.”

  “You quit smoking?”

  He gave me a shit-eating grin. “One I did. The other I’m hoping to get from blondie, here. Haven’t had me a fine piece of ass like that in a long time.”

  “I’m telling you, watch out for that chick.”

  “I am watching,” he said, clicking through the sexy pictures on her page. “And I like what I see.”

  I noticed Raptor walk into the room with Chopper, the Intelligence Officer.

  “Hey. What’s up?” asked Raptor, stepping over to us.

  “Hoss thinks he’s met the girl of his dreams,” I said, smirking.

  “I don’t know about the girl of my dreams, but I’d love to make hers come true by slipping her the old Hoss Special,” joked Hoss.

  Chopper and I laughed.

  “Old man, you’d better calm yourself before you go popping more blood vessels in your eyes,” said Raptor, patting him on the shoulder.

  “That happened because of my contacts,” said Hoss, giving him a dirty look. “Not from jacking off. I told you that, fucker.”

  Raptor laughed. “So touchy. You quit smoking again?”

  “Yeah. As a matter of fact I did,” said Hoss.

  “How’s that going?” asked Raptor.

  “Not so good, especially when I’m reminded of it,” said Hoss.

  “Candy helps,” I said, itching to have a cigarette myself. I’d been trying to cut back because I was broke, and even that was hell.

  “I heard that, too. Should have had you pick me up some,” said Hoss. “Or gum. You try that nicotine gum?”

  “No,” I said.

  He pulled out a piece and unwrapped it. “I’ve been chewing on them for the last couple of days. Seems to take the edge off, I guess.”

  “So, who are we looking at?” asked Chopper, leaning over Hoss’s shoulder.

  “Lana. She wants to hook up,” said Hoss.

  “With you?” asked Raptor in disbelief.

  “Yeah, with me, dickhead.”

  “Isn’t she kind of young for you?” asked Chopper.

  “No. She’s old enough. In fact, Lana is a college student, living in Florida. She’s been living off of soup and macaroni-and-cheese for the last year. Ice thinks she’s lying but I don’t know. I mean, it sounds legitimate,” he said, waving his hand at
the screen.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” said Chopper as he read the last message she sent to him, a dark expression on his face. “That chick says she loves you and is willing to fly over… if she had the money. Emphasis on ‘if’. You don’t see anything wrong with that?”

  “Not really. College students are always broke. Nothing unusual about that,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “What’s unusual is she wants to hook up with you,” joked Chopper.

  Hoss flipped him off.

  “She wants to hook him, not hook up,” said Raptor. “You’d better be careful Hoss. I’m serious.”

  “Eh. I haven’t given her my credit card number or anything like that. It’s been innocent flirting. Like I told Ice, we’ve been chatting for the last few days.”

  Raptor stared at him in disbelief. “Chatting? Come on, Hoss. You know better, brother. That’s a fucking set up if I’ve ever seen one. She’s waiting for you to tell her that you’ll pay for her flight and maybe more. Then you’ll wire her money and never hear from her again.”

  Hoss began to look a little uncertain. “I think you’re wrong. She says she loves bikers.”

  “Right,” said Raptor dryly “Tell me this, if she looks like that, why would she need to date strangers on the internet?”

  “She’s tired of the guys in her town? I don’t know. She hasn’t asked me for money. Here, watch this.” He began typing her a message that said he’d drive down to Florida on his Hog and they could have dinner together, if she really wanted to see him.

  Raptor and I both looked at each other, matching expressions on our faces.

  “You’re wrong about Lana. Just wait and see,” said Hoss, grinning as he added a heart to the message. “She’s going to be fucking thrilled when she reads this.” He hit SEND and sent the message.

  “This should be interesting,” said Raptor with a wry smile. He pointed to the screen. “Oh, look. It shows that she’s read your message already.”

  Less than twenty seconds later, Lana responded and stated that she was thinking about moving to Iowa and would rather come out to see him.

  “Well that’s even better,” said Hoss. His smile fell when he read the next line.

  “I hate to say ‘I told you so’,” said Raptor. “But, she’s asking you to borrow her the money. And, well, would you look at that? She’ll even pay you back when she gets here.”

  “Why can’t she just pay for the ticket herself then?” wondered Hoss out loud.

  “Because it’s a scam,” said Raptor. “That’s how these fuckers steal your money.”

  Hoss’s face turned red. “That bitch. I should drive down to Florida and really give her a piece of my fucking mind. I guess her beauty isn’t skin deep.”

  Raptor and I looked at each other again.

  He just didn’t get it.

  Hoss still thought the sexy girl on the photo was still the scammer.

  “This is why I stay off of social media,” said Chopper. “Everyone is after something. It’s unsafe.” He looked at Raptor. “Speaking of which, you want me to check our computer? Find out why it’s running so slowly?”

  “That would be great. It’s actually Adrianna’s. She’s been having some problems.”

  “I’ve got time right now. Should we head over to your place?” he asked.

  “Sounds good,” he replied.

  “See you later,” muttered Hoss, still staring at his computer screen.

  “Why don’t you get off the computer and go take a walk? It’s a beautiful day,” said Chopper. “Get some fresh air into your lungs.”

  “Who are you now? Dr. Oz?” asked Hoss.

  “Very funny. You won’t be laughing when your accounts get hacked because you’re not playing it safe on the internet.”

  Hoss ignored him.

  “Your stubbornness is your worst enemy,” said Chopper.

  “No, his dick is,” said Raptor. “And he’s thinking with it.”

  “I’m not going to let her swindle me,” said Hoss, looking up. “So just chill out.”

  “Whatever you do, don’t send her any money,” warned Raptor, walking away with Chopper. “You’ll never see it again.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t,” said Hoss, pulling the cigarette out of his pocket again. This time, he took out his lighter too.

  “Don’t do it,” I said, nodding toward the cigarette.

  “Fuck,” he growled, shoving them back into his pockets.

  “I’d better go and fix the disposal. Don’t forget, the meeting is at two,” I told him.

  “I know. How did you hear about it,” he asked, typing again.

  “Tank asked me to be there.”

  Hoss looked up. “You? Why?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  He looked perplexed. “You’re just a Prospect.”

  “I know.”

  He sat back in his chair. “You’ve only been here two months.”

  “Yeah. Maybe he’s allowing Prospects into the meetings now.”

  As if on cue, one of the other Prospects, Dover, walked into the clubhouse, carrying two buckets of paint.

  “Tank invite you to the meeting, Dover?” Hoss asked him.

  “What meeting?” replied Dover.

  “Forget about it,” mumbled Hoss. He didn’t say another word and went back to his typing.

  “What meeting?” repeated Dover, this time looking at me.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said, leaving the room. I went into the small kitchen in the clubhouse and began to fix the garbage disposal.

  You’re just a Prospect…

  Obviously, Hoss had forgotten that they’d all been one of those at one time or another. Yeah, I was a Prospect and damn good at it, too. Hell, I’d pretty much hit the ground running when Tank announced he was sponsoring me, wanting to not only make up for the shit that had happened, but also prove how committed I was to club. The grunt work, midnight errands, and wild goose chases were bad enough, but now they had me scrubbing toilets, mowing lawns, and feeding killer dogs. And hell, I did everything without batting an eye, but there were times that I wondered if they’d ever patch me.

  Hoss.

  I respected the guy but it was obvious that he was having a hard time accepting the turn of events. Sometimes I’d see him watching me silently, his eyes stormy and his jaw tight. He and Slammer had been best friends, from what I’d learned. Closer than any other brothers in the club. A loss like that would be felt for the rest of your days. And then there was Tank. Although he was sponsoring me as a new Prospect for the Gold Vipers, and was about to marry my sister, there was still an awkward tension between us. The reason was obvious… I’d driven his father’s killer, my sister, Raina, to-and-from the crime scene. He’d found it in his heart to forgive her for killing his old man, because she’d believed he’d been the one responsible for ordering the drive-by that had almost killed her two-year old son. Pulling the trigger on Slammer had been a crime of passion. She’d been a grieving mother, her heart and spirit broken. A woman completely undone. Although his pain had been deep, Tank had found a way to forgive her. Me, on the other hand, he owed me nothing. I’d had every chance to turn the van around and stop Slammer’s death. The truth was, deep down I didn’t think she was going to do it, but she’d surprised the hell out of me. Thinking back now, it almost made me a bigger asshole. Slammer could have wrestled the gun away from Raina, leaving Billy motherless. She was my sister. I should have never let her face him alone.

  Shouldn’t have.

  Could have.

  Didn’t.

  I’d heard the words plenty of times out of Uncle Sal’s lips, back when I was a young punk. Apparently, I still need a kick in the ass when it came to getting my shit together.

  Sighing, I grabbed a wrench.

  There was no use dwelling on the past. All I could do was try and make up for it. I only hoped that club would someday forgive and accept me like they would anyone else.

  Th
ree

  Terin

  “It’s been five weeks now since Slammer’s homicide,” said Daniel Walters, the head of our unit. It was early Monday morning and he looked like he’d been up for two days. The lines on his face were deep and made him look much older than forty. “And we still don’t have a damn shooter. We need to start pressing the Gold Vipers for more information.”

  “You think they really know who killed him?” I asked, but then immediately felt like an idiot when all eight eyes turned toward me.

  Walters grunted. “Of course they know. Hell, even we know it was the Devil’s Rangers.”

  “Has there been any recent retaliation at all?” I asked. “By the Gold Vipers?”

  “Not yet, but there will be,” said Jeffrey Bronson, another investigator on the task force. He was stuffing his bloated, puffy face with powdered donuts. Normally, I had no problem with obese men, but this one had ‘accidently’ groped me in the copy-room the other day. Jeffrey licked the powder from his fingers and grabbed another. “That’s what my sources are saying. The Gold Vipers are playing this cool right now. They obviously know we’re watching them. But make no mistake, someone is going to pay for murdering Slammer. I’m sure they’ll probably even use the Judge again.”

  “Won’t Tank want to do it himself?” I asked, tapping my pen against the notepad in front of me. “Murder the guy who killed his father?”

  “He’ll want to and maybe he even will, but my informants claim that Slammer always insisted that the club pay someone else to do their dirty work. They keep their noses clean and by using a hit-man like the Judge, they’ll stay out of prison,” said Bronson, talking with his mouth full.

  From what I’d learned, the Judge was a hired hit-man and pretty much, untraceable. Rumor had it that he was used to kill Breaker and also blew up the Devil’s Ranger’s club in Hayward, Minnesota. Not only did he apparently know what he was doing but he was a master of disguise. We didn’t even have a real description of him. For all we knew, the Judge could be a young woman.

  “I have people breathing down my back about this fucking case and they want answers, just as much as I do. So, we need to dig deeper. Even if it means that we grill the Gold Vipers until one of them breaks,” said Walters, running a hand over his face.